Don't Forget...Things the Graduate Needs to Know

My Dearest Graduate,

Congratulations!  Such a milestone—finishing high school.  Your grace and poise and  unrivaled work ethic is such a rarity these days.  How proud your parents must be; your extended family, the ones you love, the fortunate ones who call you friend—how proud, but not surprised…not at all. 

I know I don’t have to tell you of my unending admiration and love for you, for that passionate heart and that virtuous soul which holds such wisdom already for one so young.  Those feelings for you, I wear on my sleeve.  Anyone who knows me knows of the deep and abiding love I have for you. No, I don’t think I have to remind you of that here.  However, there IS something I want to tell you, something I want you to know before you leave on a day in August that will be mixed with melancholy and pride and excitement and a missing-you-feeling that will begin the moment you drive down our driveway and off to your new adventure.   I need to tell you.  It is important. 

You are enough. You are worthy, so very worthy.

You are worthy of an intellectual journey.  Drink in all that your professors have to say.  Take advantage of educational experiences abroad.  Join clubs.  Act, sing, dance—Grab those four years of literacy, mathematics, history and science and squeeze the life out of them.  You are worthy my dear of the best that education can offer.  Your brain is capable, your thoughts valuable, your contributions endless and needed.  Yes sweet girl, you are worthy. 

You are worthy of loyalty and love without compromise.  As you move into adulthood make a promise to yourself that you will seek out those who see your value, who know your goodness, who build you up and would never tear you down.  When you find them, hold onto them, because you see they are scarce in this world.  But scarcity does not mean that you settle.  You will need those that are true to you on your life course.  You are worthy of nothing less. Never ever accept anyone who isn’t keenly aware and fiercely protective of your worth. 

You are worthy of finding your purpose.  Take your time.  Let it come.  There is no rush.  Experience life to the fullest, try new things and someday…there it will be…your reason, your destiny.  And whatever it is that you find, you are worthy of exploring it to its highest possibility.  Don’t let anything stand in the way of who you want to become, of your earthly purpose.  If you fulfill that, everything else will fall into place. 

You are worthy of self-interest.  My sweet girl, in all my 44 years, I have never met a human being whose empathy is as profound as yours.  Your acceptance of all no matter—no matter-- is something to be celebrated indeed, but be sure it doesn’t cost you more than you can pay—your sanity, your peace of mind, your ability to do what you want to do, see what you want to see, go where you want to go.  The selflessness that you carry within you is admirable, but let me suggest or even urge that over the next few years, as you enter into adulthood that you remember to put yourself first more often than you do now.  You and your needs are worth it.  Rumi says to “Respond to any call that excites your spirit.” This quote should be the battle cry of the young!  I am certainly not saying “go ahead and be selfish,” for I know you too well and it just couldn’t ever happen.  I am simply saying that words like “what is it that I want for myself?” and “I won’t take part in what wouldn’t be good for what I need right now,” are words that should move to the forefront of that beautiful mind of yours.  Believe me, when you start your career, when you marry, when you have children, when your parents age there will be plenty of moments where selflessness and sacrifice will be necessities and must-do’s.  But at 18…it is perfectly ok to do what is best for you.  Don’t ever forget that that doing for yourself is something in which you are worthy.

Graduating high school is a milestone, but it brings with it both the good and the bad.  The good, of course, is that you are on your way!  Where?  Who knows and how absolutely marvelous is that?  Oh the possibilities.  However the downside of taking small steps towards adulthood is that you lose a bit of the protection one affords to a “child.”  It will be time now for you to fight your battles.  It will be time for you to decide your daily routine, your nightly routine.  It will be up to you to make moral and capable decision about who you associate yourself with, where you decide to go and the situations in which you put yourself.  And that is why knowing your worth is unambiguously essential. 

When friends turn on you (and they will) you may not even know why, but if you know you are worthy of true friendship, it will be easier to face the sting of rejection and hold your head as high as your standards.

When your heart is broken or love leaves, knowing your worth may not take the emptiness away, but it will reassure you that someday someone else will come along.  After all you are worth love.

When a chance comes along, one that may take sacrifice, but is too good to pass up, you will go for it with the knowledge that you are worthy of the chance.

When you doubt yourself, when you stumble and make a mistake it will be your feelings of worth that will help you to brush yourself off and try again. You have to feel worthy enough to persevere even in the face of impossible odds. 

And finally my marvelous, magnificent, miraculous girl, you must feel worthy about yourself because when it comes right down to it…down to the nitty gritty…YOU are all you’ve got.  Despite what the fairy tales tell us, there are NO knights in shining armor whose sole purpose is to rescue damsels in distress, no princes on white horses, no magical fairy godmothers.  You only have you and your sense of self-worth to get you to where you want to travel, to pull you up by the boot straps when you slip and fall.  Only your worthy self can turn your saddest days into happy ones, and your darkest places into light.  My sweet girl for your future you must rely on yourself.  So I have just one question:  Are you WORTH it?  

Caution: Prom Can Alter Your Destiny!

 He'll dress in a charcoal gray Calvin Klein tux.  He'll put a wristlet on his sweetheart.  He'll smile for a million and one photos.  He'll stay out all night at an After-Prom party hosted by his high school.  He'll dance and laugh and eat and, yes, he'll probably even smooch his girl.  He'll do everything that all other juniors do to enjoy and experience prom...as I did.  But for the last 25 years, (ugh...really--a quarter of a century?) prom meant more to me than its pomp and pageantry.   For 25 years, I have always equated prom to questions and quandaries, to mistakes and miscommunication, to poor choices and paths.

Paths.  So many are available to us when we are young and the world is open.  Author, Steven Redhead, once said "The paths we choose will make us what we are.  There are endless opportunities for change and to alter our course or path through life.  A split second decision can change the course of your life completely, forever."   Paths.  Life's paths--discussed in books and movies alike.  Who could forget Gwenyth Paltrow in that thought provoking existential film, "Sliding Doors?" (If you haven't seen it, stop reading RIGHT NOW and click on your Netfllix icon and order that baby tout suite!  It is a must see!)  In it, Helen, the protagonist, lives two lives simultaneously.  One in which she jumps on a subway home just in time.  The other, in which, she misses the subway.  Fate, destiny, chance and choice intertwine as Helen's two lives unfold.  The audience takes part in a "what if" compare and contrast game that is both thought-provoking and entertaining.

Dr. Phil calls these paths "turning points;" moments in our lives when we clearly had choices and those choices directed our destinies in unexpected ways.  He claims that when thinking back most middle aged humans can pinpoint at least 6 of these occurrences in which we traveled down a figurative road when there were oodles of other streets we ALSO could have taken.

For me, when I mine my messy, sometimes maniacal memories, the first turning point, (perhaps the ROOT of all other turning points, ) happened 25 years ago on prom night.  The choice of course was due, in part, to a boy...(after all, what OTHER pressing issues do teenage girls pay attention to?)  It was also made out of spite and feelings of rejection and unwant.  The path taken was clouded by teen angst and heartbreak and the utter DRAMA of being a girl.  But no matter the reasons (so clearly seen today as a 41 year old,) the choice was made...to date a boy that I'd never even noticed or remotely liked-all in the hopes of making another boy jealous.  I am not sure that I ever got the response I wanted from that boy, but the world kept turning and my stubbornness made me trudge down that brambly path I had chosen come Hell or high water.

Sounds like regret doesn't it?  Funny thing there is so much I DON'T regret about that infamous prom path. But that's the thing about choices--they send you down a road that can be full of craters, but also brimming with gorgeous scenery and stops that you wouldn't change for the world.  You see, I ended up marrying that "revenge choice" a few years later.  And while THAT was no picnic, the two sons that came out of that marriage were, I am sure, the reasons for the prom path.  If I hadn't made that choice, I wouldn't have them.  They wouldn't exist.  And while I lament them and their choices quite often here on this blog, I can say with the utmost assurance that life without those two little guys would be empty.  Furthermore, who I am today is in part due to the craters that tripped me up down that particular road.  While traveling that path I learned that I was strong and resilient.  I grew to be self-sufficient.  I learned what is was that I did and did not want out of life.  To put it mildly, I am a different and much more evolved human because I took a path that wasn't necessarily the best one to choose.  So it leaves me questioning?  If it molds and shapes who we are, can there ever REALLY be a poor choice or a bad life path to saunter down?

And so...and so...after journeying down this existential road with you dear Mudders, what can we take from it so that we can impart some wisdom to the children we so love and adore?  Well, we could tell them that choices no matter good or bad, smart or dumb, whether conscious or unconscious will shape their lives in ways that they could never foresee.  We can also teach them that choices will present themselves whether significant or slight all the days of their lives, and when they can, they should try and be present and aware of the possible outcomes when making decisions.  But perhaps most importantly, dear Mudders,  we should let them know that making choices, choosing paths takes forethought and insight, and that with any choice comes a chance for growth and developing a sort of stamina necessary to take us down the next path.

Talking to Your Children About bin Ladin's Death

Mark Twain once said "I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure."  It is in that same venue that I write today.  It is an odd feeling isn't it??  Being glad. Rejoicing over someone's death.  Last night, my husband, my seventeen year old and I sat riveted to the television breathing in each word that our President intelligently and gracefully, firmly let flow.  My initial reaction was to clap.  To cheer.  To dance a jig right there in our bedroom. To help organize a parade or a national holiday.  We let out a "whoop!" Jeff and I high-fived each other and I exclaimed, over and over "Obama got Osama!  Obama got Osama!"  Then I noticed, my 17 year old out of the corner of his eye sizing up our reactions, and I was ashamed.  I was sheepish.  Aren't I supposed to be setting an example.  I definitely wasn't doing a good job, was I?  And so I quelled my response.  I subdued my feelings of elation, and rationally began the process of parental thinking.  How must this look to my son?  After all, he was a mere 7 when Bin Ladin's horrific murderous rant occured. He is of course aware of the tragedy.  Several times we've taken our boys to the site, to remember, to give them a sense of history--of patriotism.  But still, to him, it was something that happened once upon a time.  Could he possibly grasp the notion that on the rarest of rare occasion it is more than just all right to take refuge and solace, heck to celebrate like Hell, the demise of evil. Or was it?  My feelings on the topic are definitely...well...dare I say...MUDDLED.

And so...true to my busy mind that sometimes doesn't let me sleep at night with it's constant ruminating, I wondered wide awake what were the lessons that I COULD teach my children about Bin Ladin's death, about the joy people felt, about terrorism, about healing.  By morning, this is what I came up with: 

1.  Patriotism: Watching the throngs of people gather outside the gates of the White House, hearing them sing the National Anthem, listening to the boisterous chants of U.S.A!  U.S.A! gives parents a golden opportunity on a silver platter.  Those images are a sure fire way to teach your children that no matter who we are, what we believe in, or where we stand on issues--we are one country.  We are a country of people who, when the going gets tough, unite to sing the praises of our similarities.  Our commonalities that we believe in, we love and we will fight for our beloved America and its citizens.

2.  Empathy: Let's face it the world is wide but it is a rare child whose viewpoint isn't narrow--based purely on a lack of chances they get to experience that there are others...others who make up the fabric of human kind.  Here is a chance for us to teach our daughters and sons that this man's death provides us an opportunity to think about, to consider the thousands and thousands of family members who had their loved ones stolen from them some ten years ago.  It is a chance for us to help our kids "put themselves in someone else's shoes."  Even the youngest of minds can imagine what it would be like to not  have a daddy or mommy. Teaching our children the art of understanding, the art of TRULY feeling for their fellow humans is an invaluable tool if we ever want to move towards a more utopic society.  Talking about, praying for, remembering those Americans who suffered the loss of someone they loved because of Bin Ladin's evil would be a great place to start.


3. Perseverance Pays  Injustice and evil are inevitable parts of life.  Learning this the hard way is an unfortunate part of growing up. I say, that this life loop hole shouldn't come as surprise to children.  Bad things happen.  I think that it is okay, even necessary, to help our sons and daughters develop an awareness of that as soon as they can.  Part of that teaching, especially in the context of THIS conversation, should be that quite often perseverance and patience will pay off in the long run, and can combat the forces of evil.  In this case it was our brave soldiers and the extraordinary brains of many who over the course of 8 months planned and replanned and gathered intelligence in order to someday reach their goal. 

4.  Hatred Ultimately Destroys It's Host George Washington Carver once said that hatred eventually destroys the hater.  Never has there been a clearer example of this quote than Osama bin Ladin.  The measures that the man took to destroy those that were the objects of his hatred eventually led to his demise.  As parents, this moment in history is as good as any to teach our littlest family members that love gets so much more accomplished than hate.  That treating others...ALL others...with dignity and respect should be a daily affirmation because it is right and good not only for the person receiving the kindness but for the giver. 

5.  Dialogue=Intelligence In light of bin Ladin's death there is bound to be an upswing in those horrific images of 9/11.  It is impossible to shield our children from all those violent images.  So use it for good.  Teach them of the great orators and peaceable humans throughout history.  Martin Luther King, Ghandi, Susan B. Anthony are fantastic personalities that we should use to counteract the idea that violent aggression and war are the ways to get things done.  We could even practice the art of polite negotiation at home. 
"Mom, I want a cookie." 
"Well dear it is 10 minutes until dinner.  You can have some cucumbers."
"Mom, I am not in the mood for cucumbers.  Can I have cheese?"
"Cheese it is!"

The most important message we as parents should emphasize to our children no matter the age is that the grown-ups in their various roles are in charge and that they are safe.  No, we can't REALLY say that with 100% certainty, but children are about absolutes, about black and white, about right and wrong.  Remember when life was that simple?  Remember when fairy tales endings were not only possibilities, but the norm?  Although that feeling is a rarity in adulthood, yesterday we were reminded what it was like when the dragon is slayed and the princess saved.  We were reminded of witches dying because of flying houses, of evil wizards being defeated, of a magical ring finding it's rightful place.  Yesterday, the good guys won and the bad guys lost.  Yesterday was a good day.   

Mama's Soundtrack

The soundtrack starts first thing in the morning.  I am awakened by shouting and banging, presumably the boys fighting, and immediately the bass guitar of David Bowie's Under Pressure begins its repetitive" bum bum bum ba ba bum bum, bum bum bum ba ba bum bum."  I jump out of bed and find the two boys in front of the bathroom arguing about who will shower first.  We have assigned a section of time for each kid so the problem (it would seem) is easily solved.  "Aidan, you overslept.  It is Gannan's time in the shower.  You will have to wait."
"Mom!"  screams Aidan frantically.  "I have to get to school early!  I have a review class!"
"Nope, nope." says Gannan sarcastically.  "It's my time right mom?  Right?"
Trying to decide what to do, my mind's soundtrack plays in the background.

                      " Pressure, pushing down on me
                       Pressing down on you, no man ask for
                       Under pressure, that burns a building down
                       Splits a family in two
                       Puts people on streets."

I grew up in a musical family where performing, piano lessons, voice lessons, dance lessons, 8 track tapes, oodles of albums and radios blaring intertwined with the din of life on 132 Hunter Street.  Music was always there.  It would keep me company on my paper route at 5:30 in the morning.  It would play in the background during showers, homework time, or hanging out with friends, and while belting out a show tune on stage, it would give me a high like no other.  Music was and still is a reliable and trusted friend.   Is it any wonder that it accompanies me on this motherhood journey?  It seems that  for every situation I experience throughout the day there is a song I can connect to it.  Many people who enjoy music are attracted to the melodies and combination of sounds.  For me, the lyrics have always been the most important.  If I can relate to the words the singer is singing, the song has me hooked forever.  Songs that make me feel less alone as a mom and sometimes a wife immediately get put on my iPod and become part of the "mom soundtrack" in my head.  Sound crazy?  Little singers in my head...No my name isn't Sybil!  Let me give you more examples.

The boys are outside.  Baby is napping.  I have seen an interesting story on CNN that I can't wait to discuss with Jeffrey.  We settle in on the couch and I say, "You should have seen this story that Anderson Cooper did on CNN last night."

"Uh huh."  Jeff grunts.
I am pretty sure I see his eyes glaze over, but I really want to tell him about it so I press forward. As I delve into the details of the story (that I will spare you here) Jeff's eyes wander to the television.  I move my position on the couch so that he at least can see me peripherally and therefore may refocus, but instead he turns his head a little more focusing harder on the TV.  It is at this moment that my mom soundtrack begins to play Listen (from the motion picture Dreamgirls) sung so brilliantly by Beyonce.

                            "Listen... to the song here in my heart
                             A melody I start but can complete.
                             Listen... to the sound from deep within
                             It's only beginning to find release."

Trying to ignore that his eyes aren't looking at me, trying to ignore that his body is pitched forward as if trying to hear the TV better, even trying to ignore the song playing in my head warning me that I don't have his attention, I continue to talk and pose a question--perhaps to measure whether my husband is listening or not--


"Can you believe he reacted that way?" 

"Uh huh."  he grunts again.  His eyes are on the TV.  I sit quietly hoping that he is just thinking of something to say, but after five silent minutes I give up, and as I walk away Beyonce's voice sings louder in my head.

                               "Listen... I am alone at a crossroads
                                I am not home in my own home
                                And I tried and tried to say what's on my mind.
                                You should have known."

I am not sure when I realized that I had this growing collection of songs in my mind chiming in during specific daily moments.  But I am kind of glad that they are there.  It is comforting to me that there are song writers out in the cosmos who seem to understand, in their own way, the feelings that I may be experiencing at  certain times.  And that isn't to say that the songs only play during frustrating times.  They also play during times of happiness and levity.


For instance, whenever I see Ila after a particularly long nap or date night with Jeff, Leona Lewis' version of The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face  plays melodically throughout my head.  "I thought the sun rose in your eyes..."  At night the soundtrack leaves my head and gets played out as lullabies sung by me.  If you were a fly on the wall in Ila's bedroom you would hear a variety of songs from Carly Simon's Love Of My Life  and Barbara Streisand's version of Not While I'm Around to my very favorite, Carole King's Child Of Mine. 

                             "You don't need direction, you know which way to go
                              And I don't want to hold you back,
                              I just want to watch you grow
                              You're the one who taught me
                              you don't have to look behind
                              Oh yes, sweet darling
                              So glad you are a child of mine."

There are many songs that seemed to get played out  more often than others.  For instance, when I am feeling particularly desperate about the problems that plague the family that I love, when I feel inadequate in the mothering department, a favorite tune by Jon McLaughlin, Beautiful Disaster becomes a repetitive reel both in my head and on the i Home in my kitchen.  "Perfect only in her imperfection" is a line that seems to sum up how I feel most of the time when it comes to being a mother.  I am ashamed to say that sometimes, on very taxing days where I have been a taxi driver, a chef, a referee, a maid, and an overall punching bag for the shortcomings of my children's lives, Adam Lambert's purely amazing voice belts out the chorus from his recent hit, Whataya Want From Me. Concentrating on that line..."Hey!  Whataya want from me, whataya want from me heee..." has offered me moments of sanity when really all I wanted to do was LOSE-MY-MIND-ON-THE-NEAREST-CHILD.  So my soundtrack really CAN sooth the inner savage beast.

Finally I'd be remiss to leave out that my Mama Soundtrack can sometimes help to set a tone or mood.  For instance, on the rare evening that my husband and I go out (and I mean really out, drinks, dancing, good food, friends) I can do a pretty great Mimi impression in the shower holding my scrub brush as a microphone and singing Out Tonight from the Broadway show, Rent.

                                "Let's go owwwwooooot tonight.
                                I have to go owwwwwoooooot tonight.
                                You wanna prowl, be my night owl?
                                Well take my hand, we're gonna howl
                                Owwwooooot tonight."

Really gets a girl going, ya know?  And then of course at the end of the day, when all is quiet I sit at my vanity removing makeup and brushing my hair, and Jeffrey comes in after giving Ila a bath smelling of soap and Johnson's baby lotion.  He sits behind me on the bed and says in a particular way how much he loves me.  At moments like this, I may turn to gaze in his eyes while Beyonce's Naughty Girl rings its slow sultry beginning in my ears, "Ahhhhhh love to love ya baby.  Ahhhhh love to love ya baby...."  ehem...What happens next?  Well my dear readers, those details are for a far DIFFERENT kind of blog.

If you are interested in some of my songs, you can click on them and listen or even purchase them from Amazon.com.
What about you?  What's on YOUR soundtrack that you think I should add to mine?  Leave your list by commenting below!