Driving Force

 So last week my dad ("The Brick") found out that he is functionally blind in one of his eyes.  He's been undergoing treatment to see if he can regain some of the vision.  This treatment involves injections into the eye while he is awake. So far he's done this without any local anesthesia. Every time we talk about it it makes me squirm. Literally shaking and wiggling around in my chair (yuck, like right now).

He doesn't complain. He under reports health problems (I'm sure it has nothing to do with The Arch Mother's sense of humor). In fact he spent a few weeks with the trouble before he mentioned it to anyone. So far he's had three of these injection treatments and the last time it caused him a fair amount of pain.  When I was talking to him on the phone he was downplaying his discomfort and I started to laugh.

"Dad, there is a saying about this, an ACTUAL euphemism for something terrible you don't want to do, like I'd rather 'stick a needle in my eye' than shovel snow in October..." 

He laughed and said, that yes, it was indeed pretty awful having a needle stuck in your eye.  Again YUCK. The understatement of the year I would say.

Turns out that his other eye is actually in pretty good shape and so it's legal to drive a car with mono-vision (better than 20/40 in one eye). He's always been a good driver (although he does like to drive fast - and in his younger years he paid quite a few speeding tickets). He and my mother split their time between their home and a cabin about 200 miles away so they log a lot of time in their cars.

When he first mentioned to my mother that his vision in one eye was blurry or that maybe he was seeing some spots, I was at the cabin with them and my four kids. 

"Your father is saying there is something wrong with his eye. You go in and ask him about it."

So I did and of course he didn't complain - said it was no big deal (most importantly it wasn't affecting his putting). And I did what everyone in my family does when we have a medical question.  I called my brother, "The Doctor."

What do people do who don't have someone like this in their family? I image its way less effective to call your brother, the horse groomer, or your sister, the NASA engineer, when dad can't see so great. No offense to any other professions, but when your parents are getting older it is really nice to have a Geriatrician in the family. He has also given most of us stitches, looked at our moles, reset a nose or two.

Besides being a good doctor, my brother inherited my mother's directness and also doesn't sugar coat anything.

"Tell him to call me first thing in the morning. He's got to come home and be seen.  Immediately."

So I did the second thing that everyone in the family would do next, I felt guilty. I felt like I had tattled on my dad to my brother, which was of course never my intention, but now Dad would have to call his son and have a conversation about the trouble with his eye.

I didn't sleep very well that night and the next morning my dad showed up on my deck, not dressed in his cabin work jeans, but cleaned up in nice pants and a collared shirt.  He had indeed talked to The Doctor first thing in the morning and my brother had gotten him in to see a specialist that afternoon. He looked sad.  I felt bad.  But we both knew that it was for the best.

No one prepares us for this in our lives. One day you're a child being protected by your parents and then suddenly you wake up as a a child who feels terribly protective of your parents.  I love my parents and I want them to be around for a long, long time.  But its uncomfortable to feel like you're stepping ever closer to their toes. 

As a parent of small children myself, its hard to image that one day these kids will feel this same way about me, that they might feel somehow responsible for choices I'm making for how I'm living my life.  Right now the biggest conflict we have is about picking up clothes. It seems a long way off and yet I know that it isn't.

Here is the crux of the issue: For most of us, parenting starts as a dictatorship in the family and I suppose we all want it to become a democracy.  But a healthy democracy is hard. The biggest challenge is that, at the core, it is about freedom.  Sometimes we can influence, sometimes we can challenge, but in the end we have to respect the fact everyone has to make their own choices. Everyone gets a vote.

I think this is at the forefront of my thoughts because driving is a huge freedom.  And I can sympathize with the fear of losing control of this important aspect of daily life. But this seems to be one of the hardest parent-child conversations. How do you know when to say when?

I'm not a big fan of the "She only drives in her neighborhood, or to church or to the hair salon..." Because if your eyesight, reflexes or memory isn't safe for driving then driving in your neighborhood only ensures that you will know the person you hit.

While they are still trying to treat his eye, my dad is talking about not driving at night. My mom can still drive so it doesn't have the kind of impact it might in another situation. I'm sure this will encourage them to entertain at their house more, which they love to do. They'll adapt, they always do.

And now my dad can say on authority, it can't be worse than sticking a needle in your eye.

The Harder You Fall (The Harder I Laugh)

So one terrible trait I inherited from The Arch Mother, was this bizarre reaction to loved ones being injured. I can't explain it for the life of me. Does this happen to other people? I know I'm not the only one.

My best friend growing up and I have hundreds of these stories.  Once I fell in front of the school bus (it wasn't moving) and she ran up the stairs of the bus to her seat giggling all the way (she might refute this, but I'm sure it happened).

In all fairness, I did roll on the grass laughing once when she fell (or possibly was pushed) into a shrub tree in front of her house. She couldn't get out. One of us might have had an accident - I won't say who (but the shrub never recovered).

Last year, my husband ("The Athlete") was showing our kids how to best use the monkey bars at a park by our house.  I was almost due with our fourth child. There was one other family at the park, a dad and his two kids.

"It's easy," said The Athlete.
"Nothing to be afraid of," he said. 

He went on to demonstrate the best way to swing from one bar to the next and slipped between bars landing flat on his back in the playground chips. There was a loud, very loud thump.

The other dad popped up instantly and asked him if he was OK and then turned around to see me laying, nine months pregnant on the ground myself, unable to talk I was laughing so hard.  He looked at me like there was something very, very wrong with me.

Then this sweet, bystander dad said to my husband:

 "It is harder than it looks. I've done it before too. Well, I never fell or anything..." 

THAT sent me into more hysterics. The laughing went on for much longer than it should have - in fact I giggle even now thinking about it.

Last weekend, we were visiting my husband's family out of town and after a long, lovely day of playing at the beach with our kids and a bunch of cousins, we were all pretty tired out.

My husband told me that he was completely spent. About 30 seconds later he ran his head into the bathroom wall giving himself a solid whack and a bit of a lump.

When I saw he wasn't bleeding, I ran to the kitchen and got some ice. As I made my way, I realized I wasn't laughing (I must have been super tired myself) and upon this realization, I was immensely proud of myself. 

But of course, then I got the giggles.  Badly. Very Badly. My mother in law - I know she loves me - but she certainly bristled at the thought of anyone, much less his WIFE, laugh at her baby. I can't let her read this yet, because I'm sure it is still too soon.

What is wrong with me?  Certainly it is genetic because my mother and some of my sister's have the gene.  When my dad (The Brick") had a hernia repair years ago, my mother called me, whispering into the phone:

"Your father is laying on the sofa with ice on his groin, moaning."

Quiet snickering.

"Men are such wimps." 

Slightly louder snickering. 

"Thank God they don't have babies." 

Full blown, belly laughing.

And the giggling started and didn't stop until she (and shamefully me) were weeping. I know this isn't right, but it is impossible to fight.

The worst part of this whole thing is that my husband is delightful, he'd never laugh if I got hurt.  Sometimes he tries to be lighthearted about it, but he's so sincere and earnest that it never works.

Ahh, what can I say?  I guess I just married up.

Meet The Arch Mother & The Brick

When I first started thinking about the connection between raising mindful children and the work I do with aging adults, I did what I normally do, I called my mother.

My mother is a lot of things, a wife, a retired politician, a fundraiser, a church goer, a true community organizer (but she'd hate that term). But a woman who minces words, she is most definitely, not.  A priest and friend of the family once coined the name The Arch Mother, and it's stuck.

My parents have been married for nearly 58 years.  They have one of those rare golden marriages built on shared responsibility, true love, hard work and a healthy sense of humor.  They rarely fight, they love being together and they love to have fun. My husband and I have worked hard to model our own relationship after theirs - give us another 46 years and we'll see how we hold up.

When I called, at first we were talking about my dad (The Brick) who is still playing tennis a few days a week, will golf until his cart can't get through the snow, sits on a few boards, and still seems to find time for an endless amount of projects around the house.

For as loud and engaging as my mother can be, my father is an endless peacemaker.  My mother is the great love of his life and everything else is just gravy. The long running family joke is when my mother dreams up a new project, party or adventure, someone yells "You're a brick!" to my dad. It never gets old.

He is having some trouble with one of his eyes and that's made my parents have to reconsider their driving situations. He's not been told to stay off the roads yet, but anytime you worry about your vision you have to ask yourself some questions.

So I mentioned to my mom that I'd like her to write with me about this experience of having to face life changes that aren't so delightful. At which point she said maybe in a few years, but right now she wasn't interested and didn't have time. Then she went on to talk about her experience with entertaining now, how health problems and retirement have seemed to change and limit so many of their friends. 

"I just want to say 'No one cares about your pacemaker!'"

followed only a few minutes later by:

"I just wish everyone would stop acting so old!"

I repeated these words to her and said - don't you think you have a unique perspective to offer about how to age gracefully? She relented (for now).

Her continual anthem to all of her kids is to keep making younger and new friends because eventually everyone gets old - some people seemingly faster than others. Not everyone has aged as well as my parents and there is often a frustration in my mother's voice when she comes back from a party and all anyone wants to talk about is their health and who's dead.

Well, one thing is for sure, my mom is not dead.  She's feisty and energetic. She's not interested in talking about the end of life while she's in the thick of living it. She says that the secret is wanting to have fun, be open to new things, new people. There is a little bit of the army general in her (sometimes more than a bit) - her life screams "Advance! Advance! Advance!

I admire this, this willfulness, if you will, to be positive, to be respectful of our her abilities. And yet she is pragmatic and not naive. She knows the reality of their situation - but there is no need to dwell when there is so much more life to be living.

And, yes, there is, so much more life to be living.

Getting it Out There.

I am a woman in the middle of my life, happily married, raising with great joy and effort four children. I'm a busy part of a large family - the youngest of seven close siblings.  My parents are entering their 80s with a feisty and pragmatic attitude.  I love to write and have been privately blogging for more than 7 years. I love big ideas, big dreams. Nothing is ever small. So that's me.

Parenting is a hugely cerebral part of my life right now.  No one told me how hard I would work, or how much I would think about how my actions are laying the ground work not only for my life but for the lives of these kids that I'm raising.

My kids taught me to see clearly, terrifyingly clearly, how we impact each other for better and some times for worse. So I work hard, very, very hard to do my best at being the kind of person I'd want my kids to become.  My kids are in the dawn of their lives - everything growing brighter and shining out from them.

Aging and how we deal with it is another huge part of my life. I volunteer with families who are dealing with Alzheimer's Disease and other kinds of Dementia, and I am discovering how hard it is to talk about the end of life not only at the very brink, but in the leading up to it. How does it feel to age? How do we want to be treated? What are we able to control? This is fascinating to me because it matters so much.

I am a reflective person and examiner.  Not everyone is - specifically when we hear from my mother lovingly referred to as The Arch Mother - ("No One Cares About Your Pacemaker" or "Stop Acting So Damn Old"). But my hope is that this can be a place for the practical as well, a place where we can offer suggestions and ideas to help with the day to day of care giving on both sides of the perspective.

This blog, Being The Horizon, is a reflection of the wonder of being in the middle of things.  It is about living deliberately, actively, intentionally. These words and collections are about how to approach life with humor, optimism and faith. I'll talk about kids, transitions, faith and aging.

So growing up and getting old might seem like they aren't related, might seem like too big a scope to tackle together, but to me they seem like both sides of the horizon, equally important and equally illuminating. 

Some of it might be funny, some of it might be tender, but all of it will be true. So you're invited to join me as readers, writers or commentators. Tell me what you think, what you're interested in talking about, I'm hoping to build some sort of community in words that will be bigger than words, as big as the sun.

My Five Rules for Parenting

There has been a lot of talk this week in the news about good vs. bad parenting. And it's gotten me thinking about my own rules of parenting. In the short seven years that I've been a mom here are the
five things that guide each day of parenting for me (I'm going to remind my future self to critique these in 20 years):

1. Love your partner.
2. Be the kind of person you want your child to grow up to be.
3. Little is as important as big.
4. Take care of your body.
5. Listen.

Working hard at having a strong, loving relationship that illustrates joy, commitment, problem solving, and shared history is one of the very best things you can do for a child. Our parents marriage teaches us about what marriage means - both for good and for bad so I try and always remember that this is the single most influential thing that I do to show my kids how to deal with people. Not everyone has a spouse or a partner, and I don't know how I would handle being a single parent. I hope I don't ever find out. But all I can think is that we all have relationships that define us - sibling, parent, other relative or friend - and when our kids think about us - my guess is they will think about how we interacted with this person.

I also always think about the big dreams I have for my kids and at some point in the last two years I realized I had to walk the walk not just talk the talk. This isn't as hard as it sounds. It can be as simple as working hard to BE a good sibling myself so that my kids can see I mean it when I say they have to take good care of each other. If you want your kids to be avid readers, you'd better pick up a book. This to me is the most cerebral part of parenting - I am always thinking about what my own actions are teaching my kids. I am a work in progress. We aren't always on our best behavior, but sometimes when we fail we are presented with even more opportunity. If I lose my temper (which happens and is different than yelling because your kids are about to do something dangerous, mean spirited etc. This is about the moments when you're angry about something else, overtired, sad etc and your kids pay the price), I always try to apologize. We can show that we aren't perfect, but we do have to be accountable for how we behave.

The little things we do each day, saying please and thank you, sharing our precious things, getting through the day, prayers at bedtime, these are the things that make up our lives. It isn't the few big events - the weddings, the graduations, the promotions, the accolades - it is the simple everyday ordinary moments. How we greet and treat the people we live with is truly who we are. So I made a big deal about how the kids treat and talk to each other, how they view sharing, how they understand giving and receiving, and what they view as the most important things. James started a tradition a few years ago. If you ask the kids what the most important thing is - I can guarantee they will answer "being good to your family." Someday we'll probably have arguments with the kids about this concept, but my hope and my prayer is that in the end it will be imprinted on their hearts. Life is totally unpredictable.

We do not know when our time is up, but I think about how grateful I am that my dad got a second chance in his 50s to change his life (I am also grateful for the drugs that probably saved his life). My dad's had the chance to walk me down the isle, know my husband and hold my children. Quitting smoking, watching his diet and making moderate exercise a part of his life has helped keep him around and I am grateful. We don't often get second chances, so we do the best we can with the bodies we have, I feel we owe that to each other.

Listening is a funny thing. It should be easy - it often isn't. But what I believe is that if we open our ears (and our minds) to the world around us - we make our own impact. How does listening impact?
Seems counter-intuitive? I remember in high school talking politics and religion with my dad. I knew he had his opinions, but the best way he shaped mine was listening to what I had to say.

With The Big Picture Project, I cannot tell you how often I feel like just sitting with someone as they are working out their worries, makes more of an impact than anything I could do or offer. Trust that other people have smart, insightful things to say and teach us. We are never to old to stop learning. Parenting is much harder, much more intellectual than I expected. I genuinely fall into bed thinking about how I did that day. Sometimes I am pleased, sometimes I'm glad I get to try again the next day. But in the end, if I honestly do my best for the kids (which is not always my best for myself) than in the end, I think it will turn out all right. Getting kids dressed, bathed, potty trained and to bed are the simple things. The hard work is raising people we can trust will leave the world a better place.

10 Ways To Live A Happy Life (if only it were this easy).

Several things lately have gotten me thinking  about what defines us, how we find happiness, and what motivates us each everyday.

My brother, The Doctor, gave a short talk at a fundraiser (which he and his wife chaired) about the work he does with some free healthcare clinics. Several times during his talk his voice cracked or he had to pause for composure. It made me think that we should all strive for a vocation (which doesn't have to necessarily be your career) that you love enough to cry in front of a large audience.

Having lost loved ones unexpectedly as well as working with families who are dealing with mortality and end of the life issues, makes us hyper aware of the preciousness of the time we have together.

I get up each morning to take care of my family. Not just my kids, but my parents, my siblings, and our friends. This isn't a selfless act, I do it because it gives me motivation and purpose. Even when I'm struggling, I know that people count on me and so it helps me get through. Supporting other people has been a way, maybe even THE way I have saved myself.

I made a good friend as an adult, a woman who modeled generosity, exemplified the idea of giving big, and shown me that even when you're running on fumes, a simple act of kindness can revive and re-energize you. As I think about it - this friendship changed me - it opened me up to a whole new world of opportunity. I see things different because of this one accidental friendship. You never know who is going to change your life.

I am a happy person. I an married to a man who inspires me. I am more grateful for my kids than they will ever know. All I want is to raise happy, good people who love each other and who make a real difference in the world. I can only do so much, the rest will be up to them.

I wish I could wave a wand so that they'd find the joy and love that I have found in my life. We are doing the best we can to set them off on this journey with all the right tools, but in the end they are responsible for their own choices. There is no guidebook to happiness, no perfect life, no way to avoid disappointment or suffering. But this is my best guess for finding and giving joy in life:

1. Do something you love enough to make you cry - if it isn't something you can do professionally - do it personally.
2. Make yourself indispensable - at work, in your family, in your community.
3. Surround yourself with people who inspire you, let go quietly of the people who can't help but bring you down.
4. Surprise yourself with all that you can get done in a day. We call those "loaves and fishes" days. A sense of accomplishment is its own miracle.
5. Be bigger than your pain. Find a healthy way to deal because suffering isn't a one time thing, and you're not the only one doing it.
6. Do something unnecessarily kind for someone every day and don't wait to be asked. The emptier you feel, the more important it is to give.
7. Don't wait for everything to fall into place, put it into place as best you can. Life is meant to be rearranged periodically.
8. Make peace with not getting what you want - resiliency is magic - and we are often the worst judges of what we need. Disappointment often presents new opportunity.
9. Being center stage of your own world is very lonely. Make room for other players. In fact its probably best to give up the spotlight, sit back and enjoy.
10. Receive each day, every moment as a gift. Be grateful for it all - especially the hard parts - because if you don't do it now, you'll miss your chance. Count your blessings before they're gone.

My kids might laugh at this when they're older. I certainly have a lens through which I see the world, and theirs indubitably will be different. But even now in their youth, they inspire me. I tend to be reflective about my life, but it is so import to match our introspection with action. I try not to just talk the talk, but also to walk the walk.

Often as a society, we worry so much about taking care of ourselves, having "me" time, giving ourselves a break etc, so much so that it seems we miss the point. The happiest people I know seem to spend very little time worrying about themselves, and focusing more on the people around them. There's just got to be something to it. I'm not saying that there isn't room for gentle treatment of ourselves - by all means it is necessary - I just can't help but think sometimes we risk setting the bar too low.

Challenge yourself to rise above your own insecurities and failures - the view is better from up there.

On Marriage (an open letter to my children)

I'm writing this to you today because by the time you care about reading these words, you'll know how this upcoming vote will have turned out. You'll have the perspective that the passing of time offers. I don't know if you'll agree with us. I don't know how the world will look from where you are sitting at that point, but it is important for me to tell you that we've never taken the subject of marriage and family lightly, that we have reflected deeply on what is happening around us.

In a few weeks, the state of Minnesota will hold an election. As part of the election, the government is asking voters to define marriage in our constitution as a union between one man and one woman. We are not the first state to have this kind of vote - and the states before us have all passed these kinds of voter referendums.

Your dad and I have what lots of people think of as a traditional life. We married young, we are practicing Catholics, we've welcomed kids enthusiastically into our lives (you're welcome). Dad works and Mom stays home (for the most part). We pay our bills, pay our taxes, vote in every election, volunteer at school, at church and in our community. We are a forever marriage. I have no doubt about that.

Sexuality is something that people often have a hard time talking about - partly because it is private and partly because it is sacred. But as your parents, it is something that we believe is important to talk about, to think about and to understand.

Dad and I believe that God made each of us in God's own image, which is something that seems impossible to fully grasp. It is too big a concept to understand. Since creation, people have been trying to find ways to simplify it into words or concepts that the masses can understand, but I'm confident we cannot get it right. We are not meant to know all things, to see all things, to fully understand all things. That is the crux of faith. We must trust God without being sure of all the answers.

I have watched all four of you take your first breath of air. It is miraculous - simply miraculous. I think of you all as presents we waited for breathlessly. We didn't pick out characteristics, gender, temperament. We just received you into our lives and felt immense gratitude. I know that you are all different - so different - from each other, even though you've all been raised by the same parents, housed in the same home, schooled in the same places. But - I have never doubted that you are unique reflections of an omnifaceted God.

We believe part of that reflection of God is your unique and precious sexuality. Most people are heterosexual, but some are homosexual, and it is our belief that they are both reflections of - and gifts from - God.

This belief goes against what our current Catholic Church teaches. For a long time, we've been listening to our church leadership speak about the dangers of embracing equality in our understandings of sexuality. The church currently believes that homosexuality is a sin and should never be acted upon or encouraged.

This is all very tricky for your dad and me. We believe sexuality is precious, nothing to be exploited or used lightly. We believe in monogamy. We believe that sex is meant to be shared as a connection between two people who love and respect each other. Sex is certainly not the most important part of marriage, but it absolutely is a big part. It is a part that has to be nurtured like anything else. It's hard for people to be honest about sex - it make us uncomfortable to talk about it. But the truth is that God created sex just like everything else. As long as we're treating ourselves and our bodies respectfully, we shouldn't feel shameful about it.

And so that has led us to struggle with the church. But let me be very clear: we struggle, but we do not lose faith. The church is a reflection of our humanity. It is a growing, living and changing entity. It is not a building or a city in Rome. It is a collection of tiny reflections of God. But we are not God. We make mistakes, and our understandings change with time. Our interpretations also change as our knowledge base expands.

Many people would lead you to believe that the world is spinning into a dark and dangerous time, but Dad and I believe the opposite. Our world actually values life and love in a much more significant way than it did 500 years ago. We are starting to see that we are partners in this world with cultures very different than our own. God gave us this one planet - this one life. We are starting to see it for what it is - a diverse and beautiful collection of people rooted together by our very creation, by our first breath of air. Absolutely there is sin and darkness in the world, and as we said at your baptisms, your charge in this world is to see through the darkness, to find the light, in fact to be the light.

When I was a child, the church was going through the final process of allowing for girls to become altar servers. It had been forbidden for many years, but as the church's understanding of women's roles evolved, eventually girls were allowed to serve mass with a priest. Still today, the language of the church allows for a priest or a bishop to refuse to have female altar servers, but they are not forbidden to do it anymore. This may seem like a small change, but it shows that the church is open to evolution.

I believe that discussing the value of marriage is incredibly important, and we agree that many people do not treat marriage with the selfless determination and perseverance that it deserves. Marriage is not easy.  It requires us to compromise, to elevate and to hold ourselves to higher, better standards. It is nothing to enter into without a willingness to work harder and be better than you are today. It is not something to enter into without finding the right person to marry and without being the right person to marry.

Yet much of this current political and religious discussion of marriage isn't about those things. It's about fear that same-sex marriage could be taught in schools, that it could become illegal to not give benefits to same sex couples, that businesses and schools might be fined for embracing same-sex parents. The ads all talk about these terrible consequences. As a parent, I am supposed to be afraid that you, my kids, might think being gay isn't the end of the world. Well, I've prayed long and hard, and I am not afraid.

In the end, behind the ads and the signs and the letters, it's about a belief that some people are born more sinful, more flawed and less in the image of God than others. It is about the belief that some people are made lesser. No matter how I approach the arguments, I can't get past that truth.

Each day I pray. I open myself up to what God might need to show me, to what I need to do and change about the choices I am making. And every day the call has become stronger and louder that we need to stand up for what we know in our hearts. We are called to be God's gentle reach and voice in this world, even when it is uncomfortable, even when it is hard.

Whatever your orientation, dad and I expect you to treat your sexuality with the reverence and respect it deserves. We believe in long term commitment. We believe in marriage. And we hope that when you are old enough to commit - and if you choose to get married - that all people, regardless of sexual orientation, will be able to join you. We posted a sign, we've taken a stand, we will vote No.