Happy Anniversary International Dad

Sometimes words just can’t express what one feels. This is so true when I think about the International Dad. Father to our kiddos. My hubby. The big guy. I fall short, because I am overcome with appreciation and love.

I spent the last years of my childhood and all of my adulthood with him. The majority of my years. And I hope there will be many more years with him because we’ve got a lot to realize. Tomorrow is our anniversary and, like the majority we’ve marked through the decades, we will celebrate this one out of town.

So, to my man… You are the love of my life. You help me balance life, and me. You support and encourage me to continue to seek, discover and grow.  To be tenacious about accomplishing my goals. To set boundaries and stick to them. To embrace humor as a friend.

You are my “home.” I am exceptionally fortunate and grateful that I share my concerns, dreams, love, and life with you. You bathe me in your light. Happy anniversary, baby!

Raising Dad

Our youngest has just ripped one into goal. He is thrilled; a huge white smile opens up in his latte-hued face. While G is being congratulated by his teammates, and even though he wears sports goggles, I witness him searching the sidelines. His eyes roam and then spot us, but it is confirmation he seeks. From Mark. The smile widens further when he realizes that the goal was seen. Dad’s smile is as big, if not bigger. They exchange hardy and two-handed thumbs up.

My heart smiles.

A is in the big chair snuggled up to Mark, in a serious discussion about something deep. She loves the “deep,” the “chewy,” and the complex. He loves to challenge her. His nonverbal posture shouts full engagement. She is rapt in attention while he speaks to her. Seeing them like this, even though a common scene, causes my heart to swell. Tears prick my eyes.

I smile and go on.

J walks though the kitchen. Mark “checks” her into the wall. She laughs and does it back to him. This goes on a few times. This “checking” is something he began with her when she was just a wee thing. Introverted, she preferred to remain passive about everything. His goal was to help her instill “backbone,” understand she can be tough, that it’s expected she’ll stand her ground with others.

I am glad.

I watch my son with his girlfriend. H towers over her diminutive frame. I observe the way he looks at her, the manner in which his eyes dance as he takes her in. His large hand is gentle on the small of her back as he guides her through the building. He treats her with respect, compassion and grace. He has learned these things from his father, his role model.

I am proud.

Saturday mornings around here typically begin with a singing father and kids making pancakes (chocolate chip, apple-cinnamon, and plain dusted with powdered sugar) from scratch, accompanied by bacon, and fresh oranges. I often sleep in, or “lay in,” listening and enjoying happy composition of creating our weekend kickoff meal.

I am full of joy. My children are rich in the light and love of their father, and I am grateful.

Afterthoughts on Afterglow

Listen To Your Mother…  It’s a wrap. However, the experience has left me with deeper appreciation—new perspectives and lasting impressions about who I am and what I can be for myself and for others, of how the threads of love, loss, joy, and fear weave all of us together in this beautiful, complex mosaic of fabric we coin humanity. From the audition through rehearsals and the sold out show I spoke, shared, cried, laughed, listened, held my breath, exhaled, and learned. I connected.

We walk such unique paths on our journeys from birth until death, nevertheless we have so much in common, and we begin to understand this when we “stop” and listen and are present and open and non-judgmental of each other. We have the capability to help heal instead of inflict hurt.

I shouldn’t have been so surprised when one of my “sisters” that I first sponsored through Women For Women International over a decade ago ago sent me a friend request via Facebook and a beautiful Mother’s Day message. I was profoundly touched to hear from her again, and to know she is safe and doing so well.

Listen To Your Mother was the perfect entrée to celebrating Mother’s Day. A reminder that we women are so powerful and can affect positive change and growth. A reminder that:

• We need to honor ourselves.
• We need to honor the women who have raised, nurtured, taught, and mentored us.
• By honoring ourselves we give to our children, spouses, loved ones, and to others in need.
• By using our voices we empower ourselves and model the importance of being heard, especially for the next generation of upcoming women.

Sharing stories is important. They are gifts of wisdom, insight and the true nature of ourselves.

My profound thanks to the brave women who shared their vulnerability up on that stage: Stephanie Precourt,  Liz Chatwell, Brenda Magnetti Erickson, Beth Fletcher, Alice Harrington, Stephanie Hauser, Katy Hoagland, Julia Huisman, Jen Mitchell, Heather Curlee Novak, June Saavedra, Liz Self, Carrie Steinweg, and Megan Summers. I was proud to be in your company.