My Heroes

I need to just start getting out all the things I want to post about, so I'm going to start with something I've been meaning to do for a long time - write about the incredible women in my life. And no time could be more appropriate to start than today, my mother's 60th birthday.

Gayle

My mother is one of those women who looks younger every year. Here's an example (scroll about 3/4 of the way down)- this was just this past summer at the beach. Who looks like this when they are 59 (without really working out on a regular basis and no surgery)? I have always thought that she is the most beautiful woman I know. When I would bring boyfriends home in college, they would look at me and say, hopefully, "is this what you're going to look like in 30 years?"

Her beauty is only surpassed by her amazing capacity to love. She gives of herself completely - to a fault. Most obvious is her commitment to her daughters. I don't have enough space available on this blog to talk about how she has sacrificed for my sister and me. And she continues to do it everyday. What people don't often see is how she gives of herself to other people. I have watched her sacrifice hours of sleep driving back and forth to the town where my grandmother lived to sit by her bed in the nursing home. When she found out that her best friend since childhood had breast cancer, she practically suspended her own life to love and support her. When one of her sisters needs help canning vegetables, preparing for one of their kids weddings, or beauty pageants or church party, or hanging new wallpaper, she drives to the town they live in and helps them. She gives generously of her time and money to those she loves and those she doesn't even know.

She is respected and admired by EVERYONE. She is the financial controller of a large automobile dealership. She has been there for 23 years and I have watched a lot of sales people, mechanics, office workers, etc. come through. Each and every one of them is absolutely terrified of her, but she is the first person they come to when they need anything - whether it is a form signed for work or marriage advice or help dealing with a co-worker or advice on what house to buy. I could make a list of women who have worked for her and consider her their second mother. She cooks them meals, loves their children, throws them parties, teaches them professionalism and self-respect and prays for them.

She is magic with children. My three year old is obsessed with her. I have seen her tame the most unruly children without ever saying a harsh word. I have seen toddlers that have no attention span sit still for the first time ever and let her read books to them. And I have seen the amazing smile on her face when she is sitting in the floor playing cars, or trains, or whatever else he has come up with, with my son.

She has an unwavering faith. We disagree on nearly everything when it comes to our Christianity, except for this - that we have a God who loves us, that each and every human being is a Child of God (even if we disagree on what exactly this means), and that God never fails us. She has spent more money than I could ever count on me and given me more presents than I could possibly remember, but the most precious is the knowledge of those truths.

She is fiercely independent. And she taught her daughters to be the same. I often remind her when she is frustrated, and sometimes even appalled at my religious, social and moral values and beliefs, that she taught us to be independent and make our own choices. She only has herself to blame and can't be upset that we chose differently than her. This characteristic is the blessing and curse she passed on to us. I can take care of myself because of her. And because of her, I sometimes refuse to let anyone else take care of me.

I have patterned my life after my mother. She wouldn't believe that today. We are at a difficult place in our relationship - where we have never been. I can't articulate it, but it has been excruciating for both of us. And there have been days in the past couple of years when I have been angry at her, but I have never lost my admiration and respect for her. And I have never, ever doubted her love for me. Not one day of 32 years - not even for a second.

Tagged

I haven't posted here in forever. I have a lot going on in my mind that I could write about, but I haven't found the energy - emotionally or physically. In the meantime, I thought I would do something fun. My friend Jill, at Desperately Seeking Spawn "tagged" me. I am supposed to post 7 random facts about myself and then Tag 7 other people, so here goes:

1. I went into labor with my first child at the nail salon. I got a pedicure, had moved on to my nails and the woman told me to go wash my hands. I stood up and my water broke. And I mean BROKE. Not in a trickle, but in the dramatic way that you see on T.V. I wasn't really having contractions, so I called my husband who was bartending at the time. A bus boy answered the phone. I, quite calmly, asked to speak to Carl. He replied "There's no Jessica that works here." Puzzled, I said, "no, I'd like to speak to Carl. "There's no Jessica that works here." Now I was irritated. "I NEED TO SPEAK TO CARL. IT'S AN EMERGENCY." They tell me he dropped the phone and ran to the bar. I told Carl to meet me at the hospital. I knew I had time to drive myself and I didn't want to sit and wait on him. He agreed. The Vietnamese man who owned the nail shop, however, did not. He insisted he was driving me to the hospital, and so he did. On my way out the door I told them I would come back and pay them. They motioned me out the door and said, "don't worry about it." We pulled up at the hospital at the same time as Carl. As I was getting out of the car, I said to the nice man, out of politeness, "please let me pay you." He quickly replied, "OK, 35 dollars."

2. I was 17 years old the first time I got on an airplane. This makes me laugh since my 3 year old has flown 3 times already.

3. I spent a semester in college in Northern Ireland (Londonderry). The trip there was the 2nd time I had been on an airplane. When I left to go to Northern Ireland, I was 19 and engaged. When I returned, I was 20 and single. My fiance broke up with me over the phone just 2 weeks after I got there. Don't ask why I was engaged at 19. That's another post.

4. I have played two instruments in my life - I played the flute in the middle school band. Pretty sure I don't remember how to play. I took piano lessons for 9 years and really suck at playing the piano.

5. If God told me I could have any artistic talent, I would want to sing. Like Sheryl Crow or Alecia Keyes.

6. I sold cars for 3 months in Indianapolis after graduation from college.

7. When I was a little girl (up until I was 12 or so), when people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would say, in all seriousness, "a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader."

OK, so here are the 7 (actually 4) people I tag:

1. Darah @ A Girl Named Gus
2. TAG @ Tea Worthy
3. Melissa @ Just Me
4. Dawn @ Renaissance Mama (I know we don't know each other, but I love following your blog - and you should meet my friend, Darah, above, by the way)
5. Yikes! I don't know if I know 3 other people who keep blogs and read this one. There are only 3 of you who read it to begin with! So, to be continued . . .

Home

I love reading my old journals. I wish I still wrote in one regularly, but I don't. It's very, very sporadic. For instance, I have a journal that is almost half full. The first entry in it is from 8/19/04 and the last is from 7/20/08. I re-read all of the entries recently and I was stuck by the first one, so I thought I would re-type it here. Remember that we moved from L.A. to Lexington in June of '04

8/19/04:

I am on the plane, on my way to L.A. It's very surreal. I wish I was staying for longer than 3 nights. Even though I have peace about our move to Kentucky, something about the thought of the plane landing and stepping off into that place I love and hate, makes me incredibly happy. I have such an affection for so many places I have lived. I fell the same when i drive into Indianapolis or arrive in South Bend. I often dream of the tears of joy if I ever get to go back to Northern Ireland. Every place feels likes home. I think it's because of the flood of emotions and memories that come up each time - they are so real, I can almost taste, touch, hear them. In each place, a new piece of me has been formed. For L.A., there is a particular affection. I started my career, I met my husband, I lived as an adult for the first time. When I met Carl I was more self-aware, more comfortable in my own skin than I ever had been - and more so than I am now. Sometimes when I think about us living in Lexington, I think, "I am finally home." But then every time I step off the plane or drive into one of those familiar cities I feel like that place is home. I suppose it is. Home is where I grow and change - where I love and get my heart broken, where I make friends and lose friends and I meet people who see the me that is when I am in that place. I used to think only one place could be home - where you could feel safe and loved and be "yourself." But in each of those places, I am my self - the self that has evolved as a result of my experiences there. And each time I come home, I am reminded of who I was when I first arrived and who I was when I first left and I know better who I am now.

Keith Olbermann on gay marriage

Excellent.

The redemption of George Wallace

Wow. Read this article by Peggy Wallace Kennedy about her father, George Wallace, and her support of Barack Obama. Being a child of the South and having witnessed redemption in the lives of so many family members and loved ones with regard to their views on race, I found it very touching.

Here's an excerpt:

When I was a young voter and had little interest in politics, my father
would mark my ballot for me. As I thought about the woman in the cemetery, I
mused that if he were alive and I had made the same request for this election,
there would be a substantial chance, though not a certainty, that he would put
an "X" by Obama's name.
Perhaps it would be the last chapter in his search for inner peace that became so important to him after becoming a victim of hatred and violence himself when he was shot and gravely injured in a Laurel, Maryland, shopping center parking lot. Perhaps it would be a way of reconciling in his own mind that what he once stood for did not prevent freedom of opportunity and self-advancement from coming full circle; his final absolution.

And I love this line:

Today, Barack Obama is hope for a better tomorrow for all Americans. He
stands on the shoulders of all those people who have incessantly prayed for a
day when "justice will run down like waters and righteousness as a mighty
stream" (Amos 5:24).

Dear Jordan and Trevor,

Today, you were a part of making history. You accompanied daddy and me to vote for the President of the United States. We voted for a man named Barack Obama. Like you, Barack Obama is biracial. Your mommy, like his, is white, and your daddy is black and Indian. Barack Obama’s father was black, born in a country called Kenya. Barack Obama is the first black man to be selected as a political party’s nominee for President. I know you are too young to understand the significance of that. Really, mommy and daddy are even too young to truly understand it. But not that long ago (in the lifetime of your gramma, nana and grandpas), it would not have been possible. People are sometimes scared of what is different and for a long time, in our country, many white people were scared of people with darker skin than them. For reasons I cannot explain, many white people even thought they were better than black people. So they made rules and laws to keep black people, and others, from doing certain things, like eating at the same restaurants as them, drinking from the same water fountain and even voting . It would not have been possible then for Barack Obama to run for President. But today, the world changed, and you were a part of making that happen.

Equally important is that a woman named Sarah Palin is running for Vice-President with the Republican nominee, John McCain. We didn’t vote for John McCain and Sarah Palin, but it is important for you to know, as boys, that you have privileges that have not always been allowed to women. Just like white people didn’t allow black people to do certain things, women have not been allowed to do the same things as men. As a matter of fact, black men were allowed to vote before women of any color were allowed to vote. Sarah Palin, like Barack Obama, is brave, and has been a part of changing the world for people like your mommy, your aunties, and your cousin Gracie, who we will get to meet soon.

It is so important that you remember that all people – of all colors, from all countries, whether they are men or women, gay or straight– are part of God’s creation and we should treat them all with the same love and respect that we want them to treat us. Mommy and Daddy voted for Barack Obama today, not because of the color of his skin, but because we believe in what he wants to do to make our country, and our world, a better place to live, for all of us. Because of people like him, and because of what you helped us do today, you can be anything you want to be.

Love,
Mommy

First Amendment

One of my pet peeves is when people talk about their "rights," but don't have any idea what they are talking about. It seems like every time a government, or worse, private business decision, is made that affects someone personally, they claim their "rights" are being violated. Read the Bill of Rights. I understand that they are open to some interpretation, but they are really pretty clear. The First Amendment right to "free speech" seems to be one of the most abused, and apparently, even our illustrious Republican vice-presidential candidate doesn't understand it. If you need a primer on the First Amendment, or you need another reason to be scared if Sarah Palin goes to Washington, read here.