Blessings and Miracles

Many things in my life went horribly wrong and also miraculously right all in this past year. What I like most about Advent is the anticipation of someone and something new in my life. A fresh start renews my spirit so I can only look back at what was a year of blessings and break free of that which caused me pain. January found me in Scottsdale AZ. gawking at the Camelback mountains and the amazing architecture of Frank Lloyd Wright. That inspiration led me to the daunting task of taking an Algebra/Trig class which I got an "A". I told you blessings and miracles this year..it is what it is. April, my husband and I received recognition for having an historical farm agriculturally productive now for 115 years. There came a morning in June that I couldn't, no would not get out of bed. I was held hostage by self pity and despair. My childhood friend, Gwen Scott sat at the edge of my bed and made me laugh so hard I had to get my day started. I had gone to Gwen's funeral a few weeks earlier. Her spirit comforts me and her love surrounds me still. Again, blessings and miracles. I have formed a relationship with a group of very talented writers and they feed my soul. Another childhood friend drove from Beaumont to Destin Fl. so we could enjoy an amazing sunset and watch the ocean together. God is good! My writing is taking off. Praise Him from whom all blessings flow. I have not one present under the tree this year (not even for my 20 yr. old). I divided my Christmas club money and sent it to people that needed it more than us. For I am blessed and I want to be a blessing to others. That is what I anticipate most about the New Year, I want to be a blessing to others.

TRADITIONS

Holiday traditions are as varied as the individuals making them. I use to think I could never enjoy anything but the traditional. Alas, times have changed and for the past five years I've let others redefine the way my family spend Thanksgiving. Due to the hospitality of James, Collette, and especially Therie we celebrate Thanksgiving dinner aboard their 125 feet three deck yacht, Solaris. The food is just like mama makes including my favorite, old fashioned cornbread dressing (not stuffing) with giblet gravy. The menu doesn't stop there. There are pasta dishes, Mahi Mahi, along with turkey, ham, on and on and on. See photo at the top. I love the way the water shimmers as we cruise on Chotawhatchee Bay and sometimes catch dolphins and turtles playing. There is usually a sold out crowd of other travelers that find themselves away from home for Thanksgiving and partake of the services Solaris offer. I think it is as close as you can come to the first Thanksgiving. Dining with strangers on this special day makes Thanksgiving even more traditional since this is the way it got started in the first place. What did you do for Thanksgiving? What is your tradition?

THANKSGIVING

I am going to tell you what I am thankful for in advance. I am so grateful that I am comfortably in the middle... age wise. I am old enough to look backwards and young enough to look forward. That is a true blessing. When I was young I could only look one way, forward. I raced towards my destiny with not much thought to what I was doing in the present. I really didn't see the bearing the present would have on my future. I couldn't make the connection. I thought once that day was over it was gone, the end. Now I stand in the center looking back at what shaped me and ahead to places yet undiscovered. I am aware of how important it is to live in the day that God has given you, the present. How do you use your present? Do you bask in it or do you rush through it? Do you realize that each day will one day be your past? May you and yours be blessed with a day full of joy, hope and recognition of this special gift.

A DREAM DEFERRED

I've gotten a challenge. You know I can't back down. Here is the challange. All you have to do is blog to the alphabets A-Z for the month of April excluding Sundays. My friend Lee invites all bloggers to participate. For more info. check out Lee's blog http://tossingitout.blogspot.com/

I have always known writing is my destiny. Before I started school I hid under our kitchen table cloaked in secrecy by the lace floor length table cloth left to my game of choice "scribbling." With an eraser less pencil I scribbled on the blank side of discarded bill envelopes. In those days I envisioned myself as a "secretary." Later when I learned my alphabets my writing skills advanced to jotting down every family member's order at supper. It didn't matter to me we all had the same order. I just had to write something. In middle school I started reading "Nancy Drew" and the "Hardy Boys" mysteries. It was the spring board to my starting to write real stories. By the time I was in high school I advanced to writing one act plays. One of them made it to my high school stage. The play received a standing ovation. It was that moment I knew I wanted to pursue writing as a career. Then it happened. My senior year my parents explained why I couldn't go to college to be a writer. "There is no such thing as a black writer. You need to concentrate on something practical," my parents said firmly. It was no need to bring up Niki Giovanni or Maya Angelou, you just didn't disagree or question your parents that way. A dream deferred.
Writing kept returning to me like an old lover whose advances to put black ink on white paper I continued to rebuke. Three decades after my parents senior talk, I read of a writing contest in the newspaper that made my knees buckle and my heart beat loudly in my head. Fingers poised over keys I succumbed to my lover and the sight of my words on the computer screen filled me with an ecstasy of pleasure I could not have imagined. I was finally where I belonged.

THE ANSWER

"I've waited to comment on this b/c it's such a touchy subject, although it shouldn't be. All I can truly say is that as a Christian mother, with twelve years of teaching in public schools behind her belt, when I look at a person, I do not see the color of their skin. I see their eyes- are they sincere? I see their face- are they smiling? I listen to their heart- is it full of love? Then I choose who to sit next to." said the comment on my post.

This is the only dialog I received from any of my "Racist" blogs. It was from one brave woman. She restores my faith in humanity because she has it right. The answer she gave is the right answer. I know responding to a stranger's blog isn't the best way to go. I know my passion and stubbornness on this issue is maybe a little over the top sometimes but this one answer lets me know two things. (1). Race is still taboo to talk about in mixed company (2). People do want to express themselves but are afraid of being judged.

So, should I keep at it? Maybe I'll give it a rest. After all the person that wrote "The Answer", has said it well enough.

THE LETTER

I interrupt my regular ravings on to insert a letter to my daughter. So you may stop reading at this point if you want or read and make a comment.

Dear honey,
I know you read my blog. I know that you know that I had your cell phone cut off because you went over $48. For this reason you seem only to be talking to your dad (which is great that you are checking in with one of us so that we know you are alright). I just want you to consider a few things as you wrestle with what I know I instilled in you (right vs wrong).

First I am not Geo. W. there is no bailout at the Johnson household. I don't believe in throwing good money at bad choices. It sets a bad precedence...look at the economy.

Secondly, you know by heart my favorite law of physics. Let us say it together now. For every Action there is an Equal and Opposite reaction. Action-you had a gab fest and disregarded your budget and ours. Reaction-i had to cut that cell phone off (fiscal responsibility not meanness).I SUBTRACT $8 A DAY FROM THE $48 OWED EACH DAY THE PHONE IS OFF. Therefore six days times $8 Equal well you get the physics and the logic and you know how your mother operate.

Lastly, I hope this phoneless period will give you a much needed opportunity to pay attention to what's going on with the world and us. We, this country is in a full blown depression. Can you say 78 Billion? Unlike our president, I can't just run down to Kinko's and start printing out money. Well, like W. I could but make no mistake it would be as worthless as his will be. Your future and ours is at stake and you need to pay attention because it will be your responsibility to elect the next president. Unless you can really see beyond titles (democrat/republican) around fears (black/white), unless you have the vision, the knowledge and the faith to vote for not just what is best for you and your family but what is best for the nation then everything I have done thus far as a parent has been a failure.

P.S. As soon as you get dial tone my phone better ring instantly. We need to have a face to face chat over lunch. It was great seeing you last week, you look really well.

Love always
Mom

FORGOT

I'm baaaak! And guess what I found out? I did an impromptu visit to my daughter's apartment after the hurricane and found liquor bottles and cigarette butts. Mom, I have two other room mates and I don't know who those things belong to, she pleaded her case as my glare pierced through her very soul. I gave her a piece of indignation she'll not easily forget.

A few days later my friend from college visited my hotel and as best friends do we critiqued all the good times we had in college. I mentioned my husband and I had spent the day before at the Ft. Worth "stockyards". If you've never been, it's a haven for bars, saloons, honky tonk, dance halls and such. "You remember the first time we partied in the stockyards", my friend said laughing. "No I don't think I had ever been there in college", I told her. "Been there!" my friend said still laughing, "we had to use it so bad we peed up against a brick wall!"

If that didn't take that smug self righteous smile off my face nothing could. And guess what I found out? I was once a living breathing twenty year old college student once, even if it was a million years ago. Oh how sometimes we parents forget that.