Haystacks

Are you successful?

 

                         To laugh often and much;

 

To win the respect of intelligent people

And the affection of children;

 

To earn the appreciation of honest critics

And endure the betrayal of false friends;

 

To appreciate beauty,

To find the best in others;

 

To leave the world a little better,

Whether by a healthy child,

A garden patch or a redeemed social condition;

 

To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.

 

This is the meaning of success.

 

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Heroes

"Actually, you should never meet your heroes if you want to keep them as heroes. They may wind up as friends or as disappointments or as pleasant surprises, but once you know them they immediately stop being heroes. (I've turned down several opportunities to meet Stephen Sondheim socially, because he's practically all I've got left. Even David Bowie, who I've never even met, has managed to transmute in my head most of the way from DAVID BOWIE  OMG!!1!* to my friend Duncan's dad.)"
~ Neil Gaiman

 
In April of this year, AliJ and I flew to NYC to see Paul Simon in concert. After the show we saw him outside the theater in the street. We walked up and stood beside him while he chatted with others who had gathered around him. I was standing inches away from Paul Simon. We made eye contact several times, but never spoke. A few of my friends have asked me 'Why? Why didn't you say something? Anything?' I wasn't completely sure of the answer to that question until I read Neil Gaiman's quote.

No regrets. Paul Simon is still my hero.

I love my husband!

Every woman (who wants a husband) wants a husband who will love and support her. We often think of that in a positive light. (He will support my dreams and ambitions.) Most of us don't imagine we'll ever need that love and support in times of disability. My wonderful husband spent the last 5 days, waiting on me hand and foot. He dressed me. He helped me walk from the bed the couch. He warmed towels to wrap my feet. I could talk for hours about the wonderfulness of my Jason.

If you are unmarried and looking for the perfect guy, remember this post. It is not always the man who is most handsome, most wealthy, most prestigious who will be your Prince Charming. Sometimes it is the shy, smart kid in the back of the room, who makes you laugh. He may be the one who holds you while you cry and whispers, "I'm right here." And because you believe his presence makes everything better, you believe it will all be okay again.

Next week I will celebrate my 39th birthday. For 23 of those years, Jason has been a major part of my life. We will celebrate our 14th wedding anniversary in August. Of all the wonderful things in my life, I am most thankful to God for giving me this incredible man, my best friend.

Thank you for allowing me to share this very personal part of my life with you. Now, go hug someone you love.

A baby no more...

In a few minutes Jason and I are leaving to attend a graduation party; not unusual, given the season and Jason's profession. But this party is different. It is for one of my kids, not Jason's.

I met Shelby when he was 18 months old. His mother was a former teacher and a dear friend. They had moved to Charlotte a year before Shelby was born. I remember the first time I saw his face. He was sitting at the breakfast table, with oatmeal all over his little square head. He looked at me and giggled and I was in love.

I moved in with the family and became Shelby's nanny. We spent every day together. We learned to play catch, sang our ABC's and could repeat every word to the dialog and soundtrack of The Little Mermaid. We chased butterflies, caught frogs and planted flowers. I taught him the Vulcan greeting, sort of...he never got the finger placement exactly right and he would only say "POCK!". Never Spock and never "Live long".

When Shelby started school, there was no longer a need for a nanny. We've kept in touch over the years and today I celebrate a milestone in his life. I hope in some small way I have helped to shape this sensitive, intelligent, passionate young man who will no doubt change the world.

A letter to my future self

A came across a psych exercise designed to help chronic pain patients deal with the (sometimes frightening) future. The assignment is to write your future self a letter; Dear Me, 2038.  Here is mine...


Dear Traci 2038,

It is strange to hear from me, I'm sure. I wonder if you will think fondly on me. Will your memories of me bring a smile to your face? I hope so.

First, I want to apologize. I imagine you are not in the best of health. You probably are dealing with arthritis pain and living with the results of years of neglect and abuse to your body. I take full responsibility for that, but in my defense, 2038 seemed a lifetime away and as you know, I'm more of a 'live in the moment' kind of gal. I am sorry if my actions caused you pain. Maybe it would help you to take down the photo albums I left for you in the attic. Read through them and know that the pain wasn't for nothing. All those memories came at a cost, I know, but I believe it was a bargain. I hope you will agree.

Do you still color your hair? Everyone is bound to know you're not really a brunette at this point. Perhaps you have let it go silver. I'm sure it's stunning! Is it still long? It took me so long to grow it out. Don't let people tell you you're too old for long hair. What do they know? Who cares what they think?

Is your little house filled with books? How many cats do you have? Be honest. Did you get that bulldog you always wanted? What is his/her name?

By now Hayley has been married for many years. You must be a great Aunt many times over. Did she give them those ridiculous names no one could pronounce or remember? Do you just call them Sweetie and Honey like Mamaw did with all of us? Do any of them look like me, like Hayley did as a child? Has seeing Hayley start a family ever made you regret your choice not to have children?

Do you still keep in touch with my friends? Are all the old jokes still funny? Have you forgotten them? Please try to remember. I promise you will laugh until you cry.

I want to ask if Jason is still with you, but the thought of it being otherwise is too overwhelming for me to consider.  

Wherever this letter finds you, my prayer is that you are happy. Not the kind of happiness that ebbs and flows with the circumstances of the moment, but the kind of true joy that gives your life purpose and peace.


Much Love,

Traci 2008




Share your letter. You can write it in the comments or post a link to your site.

A knight in shining armor

When I turned 18, I went to work in a local factory. My first real paycheck was $127 and some change. After I paid my 1/3 of the rent and put a few dollars back for food and gas, I had a little more than $50 left over. I can tell you exactly what I purchased. I can tell you because HE is standing in the corner looking back at me.

HE is Enrique; a 5 ft tall suit of armor. I haggled the guy down to $45 and loaded him into the back of my 1980 mustang. I proudly displayed him, standing at the foot of my bed. Sometimes when my roommates got too noisy, I would reach out with my foot and send him crashing to the floor. This was a clear sign that I thought it was too early and I was not ready to be awakened.

He has been decorated at Christmas with lights and Santa hats. He has stood guard in dining rooms, bedrooms and bathrooms. Through all my relationships, roommates and moves, Enrique has stuck with me. I once commented to a friend that I knew I would have to abandon him one day. "What responsible adult has a suit of armor in her house?" She was shocked. "When do you plan on becoming a responsible adult?"

I have become a responsible adult, but I still display Enrique in our little office. He is a wonderful reminder of youthful impulsiveness. He stands rigid, ever at attention, reminding me to loosen up.

Question?

In her new memoir, AUDITION, television journalist Barbara Walters tells the story of how she came upon the most revealing question she has ever asked; "What is the biggest misconception about you?"

Walters recalls first using the question with the opera singer Maria Callas, who had been in love with Greek shipping magnate Aristotle Onassis. Callas did not want to discuss Onassis or his new wife, Jacqueline Kennedy, so instead, Walters asked the singer to address the public's misconceptions.

"And she launched into a big thing about Aristotle Onassis and Jackie Kennedy," remembers Walters, who adds that she uses the question to engage her subjects on topics that might otherwise be off limits:

If you ask subjects about the biggest misconceptions about themselves, "very often they will come out with the very thing that people want to know [but that subjects] have not wanted to talk about," Walters says.

(National Public Radio)

What is the biggest misconception about you?

I believe the biggest misconception about me is that I'm hard hearted or cold. I am very much aware of my emotions and sometimes expend great energy keeping them in check. That doesn't make me unfeeling, it makes me guarded.

One day...

Ever have one of those days when you feel like you're in a theme game? What do all these things have in common? Find the common thread. I'm having one of those days today. Seemingly incongruent events and thoughts suddenly connect like one of those ancient star charts that outline an archer or a bear; once you see the big picture, it all makes sense.

A) The weather here has been erratic, which makes for aching joints and restless nights, which in turn makes for sleepy days and a fairly constant level of pain.

B) Steve Earle has a new record out. I strongly suggest you give Washington Square Serenade a listen. In particular, I've been listening to one song, "Steve's Hammer (For Pete)".

(From Steve's Hammer)
one of these nights i’m gonna sing a different tune
all night long beneath the silvery moon
when the war is over
and the union’s strong
won’t sing no more angry songs
one of these nights i’m gonna sing a different tune
someday when my struggle’s through
i won’t have to strive
until then all i can do
is let my hammer fly
one of these days i’m gonna lay this hammer down
leave my burden restin’ on the ground


Obviously, Earle is singing of a social conscience and his battle for his political and social beliefs. Although, I don't agree with Earle's political track, I know a beautiful truth when I see it.

Hang with me...

As I awoke this morning, this song was running through my mind. And I got the connection. "One day,"  my spirit whispered,"You won't wake with pain. One day, this burden will be lifted."  My burden is a physical one; less than others endure and more than some. I thought of friends carrying their burdens and I was overwhelmed with the understanding that one day the pain will end. The loneliness will be filled. The scars will be healed. I'm not one to over spiritualize. I don't often meditate on Heaven or the afterlife. I am certain it exists and I figure I have all eternity to ponder it. I don't look for meaning in every raindrop or uttered word, but today I feel such a connection to the promise of one day.

"I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore!"

Not really, not right at this very moment, but I do tend to get rather emotional when pushed. Oh, wait, I shouldn't say emotional. I should say mad. Why? Because emotional is accepted by general polite society; mad is not.

I confess, I have a temper. I sometimes lose my cool and have a bit of a fit. I don't curse, hit or berate strangers. I just have a 15-30 minute meltdown that often includes me stomping around and occasionally breaking a personal possession or two.

You're judging me, already. I can tell.

We were sitting in the airport in Atlanta last week, on our way home from a trip to upstate New York. Delta got behind and we were delayed by about 5 hours. I was tired and I wanted to be home. The cold efficiency of the woman behind the counter pushed me smooth over the edge and I lost my temper. I did not address this woman. In fact, I walked away from her and attempted to have my meltdown in private. Jason tried to calm me, which only made matters worse.

An hour or so later after the storm had passed and I had resigned myself to an extended layover, we saw a young woman have a similar experience at a ticket counter. Her reaction, however was to burst into tears. I saw Jason watching her and I said, "Admit it. You feel sorry for her." His response; "A little, maybe."

Why is it acceptable for her to cry but it is not acceptable for me to get angry?  Are there positive and negative emotions or are all emotions neutral, made prejudice by our actions?

Filing an extension

I will have to request an extension; either from the IRS or from you, Dear Reader. My plan was to complete my Mission 101 list and begin working on it today. I did begin working on my (still incomplete) list. I will, however, need an extension on completing it. I will be spending the evening working on my taxes so I don't have to request such an extension from the government.

The plan is to finish the Mission 101 list and move it to my About page. There, I can mark off the items as I complete them.

Jason and I are off to New York for a couple of days. We are so looking forward to it. We're taking in 3 concerts and at least one day at the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. Look for some posts from the road.

On a side note; has anyone seen STARDUST? We watched it this week and I absolutely loved it! A wonderful full on fairytale. I recommend it to any and all.