Launching

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of attending a university graduation ceremony.  It wasn’t just any old graduation ceremony – it was the one in which my son received his undergraduate degree.  Finally, after years of study and undergoing a change of direction, he was able to walk across the stage and receive that bit of paper that says he accomplished his goal.  It was a pretty proud moment for Jim and me.   

Just a few observations, if you don’t mind. 

There were over 600 graduating students in The Kid’s ceremony – some undergrads, some graduate students and a few PhDs – and it took a long time for them all to file in and find their seats. 

The procession started out much as you’d expect – gowned young men and women following the person in front, watching to see which seat was theirs.  

Then there was that one young woman who walked in, talking on her phone the entire time.  And then more students walked in, talking on their phones during this formal procession of graduates.  It seemed so odd to me that they couldn’t talk before the ceremony started or wait until it was over.  Apparently, it’s unreasonable to expect that phones will be put away for the ten or 15 minutes it took to get them all to their seats.  

The phones didn’t go away at any time during the graduation ceremony:  a surprising number of students took selfies when they were shaking the hand of the university president.  Many of them texted during the ceremony (and my boy was right in there with the best of them – but I’m not complaining because I was texting him back.  He told me afterward that he was texting three different people.).  A young man below me was playing a game on his device. 

I suppose we all found ways to amuse ourselves during boring speeches and long ceremonies back before cell phones were even an idea.  We probably fidgeted and looked around and jabbed our neighbour and tried not to snicker too loudly.  Maybe the smart phones are a good idea – at least they can be quieter than all the shuffling about and snickering. 

 

The most interesting thing to me – and what I found to be touching - was the number of students who, once they found their seats, turned around to the audience to find their families.  Once they found them, they waved, huge grins spread across their faces.   It reminded me of church Christmas pageants, when little kids troop on stage and, no matter what they were supposed to be doing, search the audience for their parents and grin and wave.   

Yes, these were young men and women being officially launched into the world, but at heart, they are still their parent’s children, looking to make sure their parents are watching.  It was pretty sweet.

A matter of perspective

Lately I’ve been watching re-runs of the Mary Tyler Moore show.  I loved that show.  It was the story of Mary Richards, the 30-something single woman who had a life despite being single.  She was a career woman.  She had friends.  She had dates.  She had a great wardrobe.  She was who I wanted to be. 

My roommate and I would make sure we were home every Thursday night to watch Mary and her friends.  We ate dinner in the living room and watched a new show and a re-run and then, after the show wound up, re-runs.  I don’t think we missed a Thursday night while the show was on.  

From my early-20-something point of view, Mary worked with old people.  Lou Grant had to have been in his mid-to-late 50s, Murray Slaughter in his late 40s and Ted Baxter in his late 50s or early 60s.  It made sense – they were experienced, long-time employees of WJM-TV, while Mary was the relative new kid on the block.  

Except they weren’t.  Old, that is.  Ed Asner was only 41 when he started with the show in 1970; Gavin McLeod was 39 and Ted Knight 47.  Wow.  They seemed so much older. 

Fast forward to 2014. 

I was grocery shopping the other day.  As soon as I drove into the parking lot, I noticed it was senior’s day and the parking lot was packed.  Why did they all have to leave their grocery shopping til 5 o’clock when working people were trying to pick up a few things for dinner?  

I found my few things and went to the checkout.  I glanced at the screen on the register and noted a subtotal of $34 and then a red, bracketed number - $3.40, or the 10% discount that seniors receive.  I was shocked. 

The young woman at the checkout thought I was a senior.  Me.  I’m only in my late 50’s (I’ve had to move that number up from the mid-50’s after my last birthday) and don’t qualify for the discount.  Yet, she looked at me – probably older than her parents (maybe the same age as her grandmother?), a little wrinkled around the eyes, silver white hair  - and automatically assumed that I was one more old lady shopping on senior’s day, at a time when working people should be shopping for their dinner.  

Knowing how I judged ages when I was younger, I can see how that young woman came to the conclusion she did.  That doesn't make it feel any better, though.

How do you explain love?

Valentine’s Day was just a few days ago.  I was informed by my Australian friend (and had it confirmed by a friend in Britain) that it is very much a North American holiday and I believe them – the greeting card companies and floral industry have done a very good marketing job here and we have bought into the whole hearts and flowers thing.  Well, most people – Jim and I have done very little to acknowledge Valentine’s Day over the years – I think the most we’ve ever done is make a nice meal, give each other cards and say “I love you”.  After almost-30 years of marriage, is anything else needed?  We didn’t even do the cards and nice meal this year – we left it at “I love you”.  

 

Some time ago, a friend asked me why I loved Jim.  When she first asked, I thought it was a no-brainer; she knows and likes Jim and so knows his good qualities.  When I tried to respond, though, I was at a loss for words.   I stammered out something about his sense of humour and his kindness and ….his sense of humour … and his kindness …and … I could not say why I loved him.  I know I do but could not say why.  I felt rather foolish.

I don’t think I’m telling tales out of school to say that my friend has a complex relationship with her husband.  In comparison, I have occasionally felt that Jim’s and my marriage is almost too easy – and maybe too easy means a little shallow?  That’s ridiculous, of course, because every marriage has its own story and context and cannot be compared to any other.  Yet, when asked to explain why I loved Jim and being unable to do so – well, it left me wondering.

Several months after this exchange, I heard a speaker at a conference talk about consumers’ buy-in to various products and how they appeal to people.  He compared rational responses to products – they are useful, user-friendly, the right size, etc. – to the emotional appeal they have, and noted no one can adequately explain why they are emotionally attached to a product.  And he extended that to relationships and finally I had the reason why I couldn’t articulate my emotions.

According to the speaker, the part of our brain that deals with rational things like decisions and problem solving and learning is also the part of the brain that processes language.  We can use language to express what we are thinking and reasoning.  The part of the brain that processes emotion and emotional responses, however, does not process language, and so we cannot use language to describe emotion. 

I’m sure that’s overly-simplified (and let’s face it, my middle-aged brain only remembers so much these days) but his presentation made me feel so much less foolish about my inability to express a simple sentiment.   

So next time someone asks you why you love your significant other – or even your child or best friend - it may help to remember that you can’t explain love.  And maybe that’s what makes it so wonderful.

 

A happy winter memory?

It’s the first week of February and the middle of winter – and what a winter it is.  Anyone who loves crunching snow and cold would love it here.  We’ve had enough snow that it’s getting hard to find a place to put it when we’re shoveling the driveway.  And I understand it’s not over yet – reports from Environment Canada suggest there’s much more of the white stuff headed our way in the near future.

 

Strangely, I’m not turning this into a complaint about the winter.  As much as I dislike cold weather and snow and ice (anywhere except in my drink), I’m actually finding some enjoyment in the winter precisely because it is so cold.  The cold brings the light, fluffy snow that turns into the dry, crunching-underfoot snow I remember from my childhood.  You don’t get that when the temperatures hover nearer the freezing mark.  

 

Ah, childhood memories of winter.  I do find it a bit odd to be looking back fondly on winters in Manitoba – I don’t recall actually liking them as a child.  My mother would send us outside to play and I know I hated being out in the cold.  But there had to have been something that brings warm memories now … was it the snow forts we used to build?  The paths we’d shovel out to make a maze?  The group of kids we’d be playing with?  I have no idea – it’s all jumbled into that single memory of the sound of crunching snow that makes me feel good now…something that makes me smile.

 

These happy feelings about winter are today’s feelings.  Tomorrow … who knows – we’re supposed to get some more snow – enough to cover the ice on the roads and sidewalks and make it treacherous again for driving and walking.   I’d better enjoy this while I can.

The end of another year

Another year is coming to an end.  The years do really slip by faster and faster, and when they are done they are just a distant memory, the events of the year just past blending with all the other years.  I sometimes find it difficult to remember when something happened – was it last year or two years ago or five?  I just know that it happened.

 

Thankfully, this past year was a huge improvement over the previous year for me – no health or medical issues, no huge emotional issues, no broken bones, no beloved pets being sent on their way to the next life.  All in all, a good year.

 

For the most part.  Unfortunately, bad things are happening in the lives of people I love, and those things have become part of my life and created some uncertainty, some fear, some sadness.  I wish better for them, and as I said to one, I don’t pray often, but I do pray for them.  I don’t know if it helps, but it’s a way I can feel I’ve helped at least a little.  A few positive thoughts can’t hurt.

While I don’t really believe the turn of a calendar page makes a difference in our lives, it  sometimes feels like it does.  For me it was the difference – almost from the first day of last year to the last – between a really bad year and a good year.  As this year draws to a close, I don’t feel there’s something waiting for me or is about to happen – like there’s going to be a difference – as the old year passes.  And that’s a good thing – it’s normal and that bodes well. 

 

What I do hope, for those experiencing pain, heartache, uncertainty or upheaval, is that there is a huge difference as we move from 2013 to 2014 and that the new year brings hope and relief.   The turn of the year is as good a time for that as any.  Better, maybe, because it’s imminent, and sooner is better than later. 

As I was writing this, I was thinking of specific people because I know how their lives are affected by their individual circumstances.  But as I think more about it, I want to leave this wish out there for anyone in trying circumstances.  Everyone deserves to have their uncertainties settled, their pain relieved, their grief lessened, their burdens lightened.

May the coming year be a good one for us all.    

Bumper stickers aren't always right

Another month has gone by - unbelievable.  The good news (for me) is that we're in the best time of the year - the Christmas season.  The music came out on the weekend and the outside lights and greenery are up, so there's a little something to get me into the festive mood.  Our house is in a bit of disarray, though, because we're having some work done, so I can't decorate just yet.  I hope that comes soon.

While I was out shopping yesterday, I noticed a bumper sticker I hadn't seen before - "The more I learn about people, the better I like my dog".  Or something like that.  It's a quote from Mark Twain.

At first I was amused because it made me think of the now-long-departed pooch - I like to remember him and think about his antics and how much pleasure (and frustration, if I'm honest) he brought to me and to my family.  

But think about what it says - animals are more lovable than people.  I suppose there's some truth in that - dogs are fairly predictable, they obey (well, not always, if I think about my dog), they love unconditionally and they know their place in their human pack.  They are also cuddly and soft.  What's not to love?

But is that better than getting to know and love people in all their complexity?  In finding the part of people that makes you glad you met them, even if you don't always agree with them or don't believe in what they stand for?  Don't you want people to get to know you and look beyond whatever walls you have built or masks you wear?   Personally, I don't like the idea that someone thinks their dog - as wonderful as their dog might be - is better to love than me.  Easier, maybe, but not better.

It's a cute saying but a sad statement. 

What I learned on my vacation

It has been a relatively eventful month. 

First there was Thanksgiving, when The Kid came home for a few days and we got together with a few family members so we could be thankful together.  Thanksgiving is my second-favourite holiday – it happens at the best time of the year and makes me think about all I have to be thankful for – which is plenty. 

Almost immediately after Thanksgiving, Jim and I left for a fall vacation.  We drove to San Antonio, Texas and enjoyed driving through areas new to us on our way there and back.  It was a fabulous vacation – although entirely too short. 

I’m not going to bore anyone with details of the trip – I’ve already regaled a few friends and family members with tales from the road; I just thought I’d share a few things I observed.

·    None of the states we drove through looked the way I was expecting.  Louisiana is not all bayou; Texas is not all sagebrush and cattle ranches.  I was surprised that as we travelled from state to state, the country looked remarkably the same - we could have been in northern Michigan.  (Don’t get me wrong – I really like northern Michigan!)  That didn’t meet my expectations at all.  There was one notable exception – an elevated section of interstate through the Atchefalaya Basin in Louisiana went over and through a mix of waterways, swamps, trees and I’m not sure what else.  And when we came back onto the ground, it went back to the northern Michigan landscape.  It was fascinating.

 

·     As intrusive and damaging as it is, kudzu is also fascinatingly beautiful.  It covers trees, walls, poles – almost anything, it seems – and transforms them into fantastical forms and shapes.

 

·    There are a lot of white vehicles in Texas and Louisiana.  I don’t know if that’s factually correct – we just saw a lot of them, and concluded that there were more there than other places we’d seen. 

·    Travel websites like Yelp and TripAdvisor can be really helpful when you are looking for a restaurant or hotel in a strange place.  Don’t be put off by the occasional nasty review – you have to look at the overall remarks.  We used these sites often and as a result were introduced to some really wonderful  meals and accommodation.

·     There is no better way to spend an evening than on an outdoor patio with a margarita in your hand and chips and salsa on the table - unless there’s a plate of seafood stuffed jalapenos on the table instead of the chips and salsa.  That’s what we had in Galveston where the patio overlooked the Gulf of Mexico and we could watch dolphins and pelicans while sipping our drinks and nibbling the jalapenos so that they didn’t disappear too quickly.

·    Old hippies go to Galveston.  At least that’s what we surmised from the number of bongs and hash pipes we saw for sale in the historic downtown stores.  

·    Southerners really, truly are friendly and hospitable.

 

·    Sometimes the best times are those you haven’t planned.

 

·    Best t-shirt I didn’t buy – “I may not be politically correct, but I am right”.