The Strength of Love

Hi readers! My name is Becky and I’m participating in the 20 something blogger blog swap! Your regular fabulous blogger has swapped with me for the day – and she posted quite a lovely story, so be sure to check it out!

I started thinking about her red balloon, how it was an important memory from her childhood, and it was shaped by books she read in school. I began reminiscing about my childhood and what shaped me. I have lots of memories – good, bad, and in between, but I think one of the biggest influences in my life came from all the strong, amazing women in my family.

I have a large extended family. Both my parents had a lot of siblings, and while we didn’t live close to any of them (they were all always at least a 5 to 10 hour drive away), we were good at staying in touch, and my aunts were always interested in what was going on in my life.

Without realizing it, I was being shown that love, honesty, humor, determination, loyalty, humility, (and about a hundred other characteristics) were all possible for a woman to have and even cherish. My family always celebrated the successes in each other’s lives’ without competing with one another.

One time when I was in 5th or 6th grade, a rock hit the windshield of our car and the glass needed replacing. My mom told me to watch my dad replace the windshield and when I asked why she responded, “So you’ll know how to do it when it happens to you someday. How else would it get fixed?” I said something to the effect of “Oh, I’ll just have my husband fix it,” and I got a gasp and the use of my full name. (Never a good sign). When I asked my dad later why mom was so upset (and yes, this was while he was replacing the windshield), he said that mom wanted me to be my own woman.

A few months ago, I was talking to one of my cousins (her mom and my mom are sisters), and we were discussing tough love. All of a sudden I exclaimed, “you know what, thank goodness for the women in our family who showed us how this is sometimes hard, but totally necessary.” That was a moment when I realized just how much of an impact all these women had made on me – and how I didn’t realize it until years later because I was raised seeing strong women and knowing that as normal.

So thanks to all the amazing women I am related to (by blood, marriage, or friendship), who have shaped me more than I probably know. And thanks to Autumn Twig for getting me thinking about this!

What about you readers? Is there a specific memory or person who has been influential to you or helped shape you into who you are today?

Don't forget to visit 'Love Everyday Life' to read some more great posts from Becky

A Brain for the Scarecrow, Heart for the Tin Woodman, Courage for the Lion and a Memory for Tabitha Temple

JD and I got such a good deal at an old bookstore recently. We found several classics, all in great shape and all in hard back.

Yesterday, as I picked up the charming old 'The Wonderful Wizard of Oz' and settled to read it on my olive green couch, I found something more inside its pages than just Dorothy's story.

On the very first page, there is a handwritten message,

This wasn't just any book. It was a memory. Somewhere in London, sometime several years ago, this book was probably gift wrapped and hid somewhere, then handed over in a well-thought-of manner. Isn't that special?

I imagined a very dramatic episode following this where I Google the girl's name and find out where she is, then I contact her, tell her I've found her book, she cries with emotion and tells me she had been thinking about where this book had been and how sorry she was for giving it out, and then I courier the book back to her and we become friends for life.

Then reality and its many possibilities struck me. It is 2009, the girl has probably gotten married by now, changed her last name, maybe isn't on talking terms with her parents and took great effort to discard all memories associated with them. Or worse, moved in with an African tribe in search of her quest to save an endangered species of lion, with no blogs, no internet, no way of contacting her.

(If I get to find you, Tabitha, and you read this, please ignore the above paragraph)

I still want to try though, so I type her full name on Google ('Tabitha Emma Temple') and click search... Nothing except a Surrey directory which further tells me 'no match found'.

'Tabitha E. Temple'... 10 results but nothing enlightening, except a whole Temple genealogy website. Whoa! This is not going to be easy.

'Tabita Temple'... 2730 results. Ok, people need to stop naming their daughters Tabitha now. There's too many of them out there.

How about if I try on Facebook... 19 results. Hmm...

What in the world am I trying to do?

The Hopeful Airplane

I saw a plane land today. Not that there's anything squeaky new or life changing about it but if you saw what I saw, you'd agree with me. It was... hopeful.

On the road alongside the airport runway, the traffic light was red. Everybody had obediently stopped and sought attention elsewhere for those thirty seconds. Just as the countdown came down to a 5, a deep whirring sound came and everybody turned.

4...

A beautiful airbus was smoothly descending to the ground. Its wings shone in the evening sunlight.

3...

I imagined all the passengers; excited, fearful, anxious, thinking about the person waiting for them outside the terminal door.

2...

It came down like a bird does on water, smooth, elegant, feet first.

1...

Its wheels touched the gray path effortlessly.

*Green*

Nobody moved. Only the airplane continued to glide over the runway like a pro ice skater.

1 second over...

News reports were forgotten. Hopelessness of seeing death and destruction were put aside. Sorrow of lost ones made way for new beginnings.

2 seconds over...

We all watched the airplane, together, united.

3 seconds over...

We all thought about the 150 Pakistanis who died this month. Not of natural causes but blown away by terrorists. And still, the Pakistani government agreed to sign the Kerry Lugar Bill. Not for dignity, not for pride, not because millions of people were against selling our country, but for more, unconditional aid.

4 seconds over...

As we saw the last of the airplane's tail tip fade away into the treeline, we gathered hope again. After all, if Allah puts you to it, He puts you through it as well.

5 seconds over...

Nobody had honked. Nobody had noticed the light that had turned green 5 seconds ago. It was as if everybody, and everything had paused. With no sight of the airplane, we all turned back to reality together and went on.

Like I said, it wasn't life changing, but it was hopeful.

p.s. Congratulations on your Nobel Peace Prize, President Obama.

Oh Crap! I May Not Be Unique

I was listening to the radio while driving this morning. The guy with the sexy voice, as my friend calls him, was on. His question to the callers was ‘If you could make a world record at something, what would it be’? Some were just going on randomly, not making any sense, only wanting to go live on the radio. A few wanted to make the record sound as hilarious as possible and ended up chuckling alone (‘I’d be the one who sleeps the most, after all, what’s there to lose at 9.00am HE HE HE’). But there were actually people, even though a couple, but lucky, fateful people, who knew exactly what they wanted to attempt. They knew exactly what they were good at.

As they confidently admitted about the possibility of doing something truly unique and holding a world record at it, I couldn’t help but wonder. What can I achieve that nobody in the whole wide world could? I looked around in my brain, heart too, and the answer surprised me, to say the least. And the answer was… nothing. I couldn’t think of anything that set me apart from the rest of humanity. Sure I could come up with the many traits of my charming personality, my countless skills, the many people who definitely, maybe like me a lot but something that only I could do that nobody else could in the world…? Hmmm…

Note to self: Invent something… anything.

Oh well, rather a nobody than somebody with the longest nails or the most stretchable face, right?

Have You Read This?

This book titled 'Baby Proof' by Emily Giffin was such a delightful read. It has just the sort of perspective that life can offer for women who are in relationships, women who want children, women who don't want children, women who are trying and/or women who are with children.

It's the kind of book that you put down with a smile.

The 'Two' In Life

In life, it is always about the ‘two’. The two choices we always have. The two ways to go about all. The two paths that lead to completely different sets of lives for us. Unfortunately and as opposed to majority view, it is not ‘right’ vs. ‘wrong’ anymore. It’s not ‘this’ or ‘that’. In fact, and trust me on this one, it is the two different ways you get to be ‘wiped out’ – a term I learned from AXN. If you have seen the show and have found time to contemplate on this creature called ‘life’, you know what I’m talking about. No matter how high you jump or how tight you grab that rope, eventually, inevitably…you fall, hard. You muster all the courage you have known and repeat every pep word you can remember and yet, upon every return, it is a painful, endless, struggle to stand up.

I am standing up…still. Because as ‘they’ say it, it is not the end of the world. Because I still have people who I will stand up for, who I will live for. I still have my people. And I still have my ‘happyness’.

p.s. I love you, JD. Happy October!