A mother's love for her son.

For the past 40 days we Catholics have been observing Lent. The Lenten Season leads up to Good Friday which is the day that Jesus, our Savior, was brutally murdered by way of being nailed to a cross in mockery of what he was graciously doing for all of us, whether we were grateful or not. Such an unselfish act.

On Good Friday I often try to put myself in the sandals of the Virgin Mary. Although she was many things to many people, on this day she was a mother. “THE” mother of all time.  I sit in church and wonder what she must have gone through as she watched on in horror. What could she have done? How could she allow this to happen without trying to “save” her son? How can she just let things be as they were intended? God chose the right woman. I truly believe there was never before and never will be again, a mother such as Mary. Her courage and ability to not let her pain interfere with God’s plan makes her the most unselfish person of all time. Jesus gave his life….but Mary gave her son’s life when she would have gladly traded places with him if it would have been allowed. My heart aches every time I think of it. The pain must have been unbearable to the point of wanting to die right alongside her precious son but was cruelly forced to live her life without him. I am sure she would have welcomed death. The love of a mother for her son is one of the most powerful feelings in the world. This is a fact I know all too well.

Our son came home for Easter like he has every single year since he left for college. This is not “my”  holiday  but his father’s. (My “must have” is Christmas Eve!) It is a family tradition for the men and boys in the Mynarcik family to celebrate Good Friday by going to a fishing spot and  hanging out together, drinking, eating and telling crazy stories of the years past. The once small circle of men has grown in size to allow room for treasured friends and extended family.  The next two days we just relax and enjoy each other’s company.  Then in a blink of an eye we have to say good-bye again.

As we are standing at the glass partition in the airport that separates us from our son, we cannot speak. My husband moves closer to the glass as if this will somehow relieve the pain of seeing him go. My daughter, who is heartbroken and sobbing because her only brother is leaving again, is standing halfway between me, who is standing all the way in the back so my son cannot see my tears, and her father who is still watching his only son go through the customs line.  And then our son turns one last time and waves goodbye...then he is gone.

As we all turn away to silently walk to the car, I glance at my husband who is now so heartbroken he cannot stop the tears. I see his shoulders shake with silent sobs. I have stood by and watched the scene unfold. Even though I am aching with sadness and would give almost anything to have him stay, I know that is not as it was intended. Like Mary, no matter how much it hurts to watch him get on that plane, I cannot interfere with what was meant to be. Our son is living his own life and that life has taken him far away from “home”.  Hopefully one day he will choose to move back to Texas but until then we must do the hardest thing any parents can do and unselfishly stand by and let him go.

Our son texted the second he got on the plane and said he will miss us and loves us. Through my tears I texted back and told him that his leaving gets harder and harder on his father as the years pass. To make light of the situation I told him I did not know if this was due to his age or having to be stuck alone with Raychel and me.  My son’s reply: “I do believe it is a little of both!”  What a smart aleck….God, I miss him!

The scent of years past.

Have you ever walked into a store and for a split second your mind drifts back to another time but you just can't place it? Or perhaps a bakery where the smells transcend you to your childhood and grandmother's pie or in my case, my Tante Rosi's cheesecake? Does a certain perfume remind you of someone special?

I call these occurrences "Memory Scents".

I remember the first time I went back to Germany for a visit. I was already overwhelmed with emotion when the plane was descending and I saw the city of Frankfurt below. All these thoughts were running together in my head. I was with my Mutti and I asked her if she felt the same way. She said (In her Hessen dialect), "Pass mal auf wenn du im Flughaven bist!" She was right! The moment I stepped into the airport I could smell my memories. I cried.

This morning my Avon lady (yes they still have those) delivered my goodies. I always forget what I ordered so it is a fun surprise. Mascara, blue eyeliner, purple eyeliner, the new eyeshadow Quad in Smoke & Mirrors and .......another lip gloss. If you have read my blog then you know of my addiction to lipsticks. My embarrassment of ordering yet another lip product was short lived as I opened the black box and took out the treasure inside. For some reason, totally foreign to me at the moment, I ordered a Fruity Lip Juice in Tangerine. Why? Raychel wears clear gloss. I am an old woman. Tangerine Fruity Lip Juice? Seriously?

I took the cap off, slowly squeezed the tube and watched a tiny bead of tangerine colored sparkles rise to the surface of the rounded tip. I carefully ran the tube back and forth over my lips and then I smelled the memory! It took me a second to place the exact moment in time and then it was as if it was yesterday! I wore tangerine lip smackers as a teenager! My first kiss was engulfed in the scent and taste of tangerine! I am now sitting here with my shiny lips and all these wonderful memories of my years in Germany and my first "love" are going through my head.

Perhaps it was by accident. Perhaps it was my subconscious trying to get me to feel young again. I truly have no idea what made me order this particular gloss but I am most thankful. As I daydream about all the things I would have done differently and all the things that I would never change during those teenage years, I think I will take the Electric Blue Eyeliner that I ordered for Raychel out of the box and give it a whirl. I am sure this will transcend me to the 80's and if I remember correctly I was smokin' back then! (sigh) Where have the years gone?

Prom is in the air- duck and hide!

With the rains gone, everything in bloom and the sunshine making everything feel like spring, Spring Fever has affected every teenager I know. No one wants to sit in a classroom no matter how exciting the teachers try and make it. For girls, thoughts go like this: “the square root of 5 is..….five hours until I can go tan….tan-the color of the shorts I saw at the Buckle, buckle-I saw a cute belt at Forever 21….$21 is all I have for the movies Friday night” and it goes on and on.  Before you know it class is over and NOTHING has been absorbed regarding the lesson. The teacher mistook those wide eyes staring off into space as doors to a brain that was thinking of the lesson at hand. Pshhh, yeah right.  That same teacher acts shocked when test time comes and there is no grade over 85 and the few who made that grade guessed on 50% of the answers.  Spring Fever is viral.  It has taken over the body and minds of our youth. There is no cure. We must all just sit back and let it runs its course.

And if the fever was not enough to make an adult crazy, Prom is thrown smack dab in the middle of the chaos. The focus is much more intense on Prom then it was on Spring Break so this gives you some sort of idea of what we parents are going through. From one day to the next Prom plans change. There are so many emotions regarding who is asking whom, who is wearing what, who will be the most fun group, who will look the prettiest, which guy will be the most handsome? Guys start acting like jerks because they do not understand the female perspective on Prom. Girls then get even more emotional and can not understand how they can be so nonchalant about this important event. Listen up guys, IT IS NOT about you at all! Not the least little bit. DO NOT take it personally! It is about the dress and shoes and hair and make-up and nails and tans. Oh they will tell you it is because they want to make you proud and happy to have chosen them as your date. Lies! All lies! It is a great thought and the girls have the best intentions but at the end of the day it is all about them. They can’t help it. Magazines and stores flaunt all the sparkle and glitz starting in January. The sales clerks all but call the girl “homely” if she is not asked to prom and does not wear a $300 and up dress. Other girls start being even more catty than before and start talking crap about each other's outfits and Prom plans are thrown into every conversation. Good friends are now not speaking to each other because a guy asked a girl that some other guy wanted to ask and a girl said yes to a guy that some other girl wanted to go with. Ahhh....can you feel the love?

Ask your moms guys, we did not spend this much money or fuss on our own weddings! It has all gotten out of hand. But as parents and dates of the girls we must endure and get through the next few weeks.

Gentlemen, take my advice and save yourself much aggravation between now and the big day…….voice your opinion ONCE. Tell them what you would like to wear ONCE. Suggest a restaurant ONCE. Then get out of the way. Hopefully on the eve of the event, these beautiful ladies will once again have some sort of sane thought in their heads and you will have a good time and they will make it up to you. However, if you feel they are getting too out of control during the process, agree with everything they say and then wear a chartreuse tux with a top hat and cane, put streamers on your truck, pick her up and take her to Arby’s for dinner and then call it a night!  

Happy Prom ladies and to all the guys I say “Bless your heart. You hang in there Sport, it’s almost over!”

After the storm......

Texas is known for its horrific spring storms that bring amazing lightening shows, damaging hail the size of golf balls and deadly tornadoes.....and then just as quickly as they come, they are gone.

Unlike 95% of the population who can sleep like a baby in a thunderstorm, I cannot even sleep if there is heavy rain. It is not because of fear or worry, it is just the sounds of the storm that keep me awake. While roaming through the house most of the night I looked in on my daughter fast asleep in her bed and I could hear my husband snoring all the way into the kitchen. I was curious if the dog had made her way to the shop and was resting in her bed and I wondered where the cat was hiding since he hates storms. As I stood at the back door and watched the beautiful lightening show I gave thought to how something this beautiful could be the companion to such destruction.

 I called my mother to check on her and she only spoke of how bad the storm was and how there is water in the yard and things were blown around and how she was up all night worrying. As I am listening I look outside. The sun is now shining and it is another beautiful day in Texas. I keep listening and then try to interject with a "But look how pretty it is now" and my comment goes unnoticed. There is just sadness and negative comments about how bad the storm was. Nothing I could say would make her see that all is now right again. When I call again later I know we will discuss the storm again and I am certain she will have found more damage the storm has done.

Our lives are much like a storm...Lightening, Hail and Destruction. We are blessed with an abundance of beauty and light, we are often damaged by situations that come our way and sadly we know all too well the heartbreak of death and destruction.

The way we viewed this storm is the way we live our lives. My mother will dwell on the bad, even though it is now over and she will let it ruin her day. I will remember the beautiful show and be thankful that everyone I know made it through safely. Others are not so lucky. I am grateful. 

Some storms last longer than others. Some storms leave behind damage that requires massive cleanup. Some storms will change our lives forever. We have a choice; we can let it consume us and ruin whatever good we have in our lives or we can seek peace in knowing God has made sure that there has never, ever been darkness that was not followed by light and there has never, ever been a storm that was not followed by sunshine.

Happy Birthday Son!

Today is my son’s birthday. I can remember every detail of the day he was born. My heart is overflowing with love for this soul that God has blessed us with.

Lou was working out of town the first few years of our marriage. I was always concerned that I would have the baby while he was away. I do believe I was one of those young mothers that had “contractions” starting in my fifth month. Yes, I was one of those…..hanging my head….and I swore I was having this baby every weekend until he actually arrived. I was due on February 18 and my mother came up to stay with me during the week while Lou was gone just so she could be there if needed. We would sit and wait and sit and wait as the days turned into weeks. I remember her saying “If I have to watch the show “Quincy” one more time I am going to scream” since this meant another week had gone by.  Back then the doctors only did one ultrasound during your pregnancy and they made an educated guess of when you were due and then adjusted it as you went along. Although they guessed I was having a girl they were not sure. By the first part of the second week of March when they realized that Nathan was breach and did not have room to flip on his own they finally scheduled a C-section for the morning of Monday, March 14. 1983.

Louie made arrangements to take off that week and we spent the weekend getting ready. I was HUGE! I gained 70 pounds and I was exhausted. I ate my usual Saturday night pizza from the West Pizza House and we went to bed late. At 2:15 we were laying in bed and all of a sudden my stomach stretched out the size of beach ball and I felt this tumbling kick. I jumped up and was standing on the bed as I watched the stretch marks pull apart and then in a matter of seconds my water broke.  Nathan had decided he was ready to come into this world and actually stood on end inside my stomach and flipped himself around so as not to be breach anymore. The pressure of this tumbling act caused my water to break with such force that the curtains and bedding and carpet were caught in the cross fire. We had a toy poodle that was always by my side (loved that dog!) …….poor Brandy…she was soaking wet! She just stood there frozen on the bed not knowing what to do. When I jumped off the bed and went to the bathroom to take a bath (yes…I took a bath since we had no shower in our old 2-story home) and get ready for the addition to our family, Louie called my parents and his parents and sister.

My parents lived well over an hour away but they beat me to the hospital. My father was pacing up and down the halls. My mother still had wet hair from her shower. By this time I was having small contractions and I was confident that I could handle this. I thought these pains that I was having on the way to the hospital were what I was to expect during the course of delivery. I am sure all the mothers reading this are laughing and knowing what comes next! When I got there they said I need an enema. A what? I am having a baby from my front, why am I having to empty my back? I did as I was told. The pain got worse. Now I was second guessing my decision to have a natural child birth “for the sake of the baby”.

It is now about 6 am and I am in full blown labor. I remember telling Lou that he better find someone who can give me something for this pain or I was actually going to kill him. That “something” never came. My mother came in and she tried to make it all better like she always had but there was no reasoning with me.  I wanted to see my Daddy but I told them to make sure he came between contractions since I did not want him to see me in pain. The contractions were closer together now and they had to hurry. He came in and I remember the tears in his eyes and then it hit me…..the mother of all contractions! He was horrified! Here was his baby girl having his grandchild and there was nothing he could do to ease my pain. I told him to go and he kissed me on the forehead and went and got Louie. By 7am I was in so much pain and was hyperventilating from the breathing technique they taught us in Lamaze,  I think I blacked out for a few minutes. When I regained a sense of where I was I realized I was in the delivery room. It was time for Nathan to be welcomed into the fold. At 7:20 am I heard the first cry of the most beautiful soul I have ever known; my son. The disappointment of not having a baby girl was soon lost to the never felt before feelings in my heart. Only a mother knows what I am talking about. The moment I held him there was nothing else on earth more important to me. God had just entrusted me with his angel and it was my job to be the best mom I could be.  I hope I did Him proud.

Happy Birthday Nathan (a gift from God) John (given by God- also masculine for Johanna which was my Grandmother’s name)- you are my most precious gift and I love you more than you will ever know….until you have a precious child of your own.

And by the way…….natural child birth is highly over-rated. I did not even get a gold star for my scrap book!

I've got the music in me!

As a young teen some of my favorite times were sitting on the front steps of the building with friends waiting for Casey Kasem's America’s Top 40 to come on the boom box placed carefully beside us. Most times it was the highlight of our week. We would tease each other about what song would be number one and we knew the words to all of the top 20 songs if not the entire countdown.  When we were in High School they would have dances at the school and we would all dance to our favorite tunes and hum them all the way home.  Music was our life. There were songs for every emotion one could possibly feel; breakups, make-ups, loss of a loved one, loss of a pet, extreme joy and those times you just wanted to “get down and boogie” with Boogie Fever.

My favorite genre of Music is Motown 70’s. It was the era of all the soul songs that artists today just cannot hold a candle to and all the dance songs that kids today think are “retro cool”.  These songs have a way of creeping inside my head and staying for hours. No one can tell. I just sit and work and keep them all to myself.

This morning I logged into AOL online music and selected Urban 70’s. All of a sudden a phrase I must have heard somewhere along the way popped into my head “Most of us go to our graves with our music still inside of us.”

Why is it that I do not sing along, get up and dance, hum or even just “shoulder shimmy” to the brilliant works of my favorite artists?  Is it because I am now a grown up? Do I have to display some level of decorum? Is there some unspoken rule that says I cannot burst out in song and jump up and dance around my office for a few minutes?

 Pondering……………..NOPE! I have only myself to blame if I go to my grave with my music still inside of me.  There is music inside of all of us and even if it is only for a few minutes, LET IT OUT!! Sing and dance and enjoy the moment!

I am turning up my music and I am going to sing out loud! I am getting up out of this office chair and I  am going to shake my groove thing……..excuse me while I go close my office door.

30 years later......

Yesterday was my and Lou's 30th wedding anniversary. This momentous occasion sparked a desire to look back at our union and reflect on the journey that brought us to this place.

We were very young when we got married....well I was! :) There was so much we thought we knew and so many battles we fought that really do not matter at all anymore. In all honesty, they didn’t matter 30 minutes after they happened. Proving to each other who was right, who was wrong, who gets to pick, who gets to compromise and who is the first to raise the white flag now seems like such a waste of precious time. We raised two children, live in our second home, are now on our fourth dog and second cat. We lost grandparents, parents and precious friends along the way. No matter where we were in our relationship with each other, time did not stand still and life for all kept going. There have been so many sad tears, unbearable heartaches, major frustrations and miles of hurdles to overcome. I choose not to think about those....instead I am smiling as I think about the tears of joy, the many things that made my heart overflow with love and happiness, the things that fell into place when we least expected them to and the ability we had to overcome all of life's obstacles.

Louie greeted me at 7 am with "Happy Anniversary my Love" in his quirky sarcastic tone and was actually excited to turn on the radio to listen to birthdays and anniversaries. The song "It's Five O'clock Somewhere" came on and he laughed since this is his favorite song. I rolled my eyes. Then, unbelievably the next song was "Amarillo by Morning" which was our favorite song when we were dating. We both could not believe it. It was like the DJ knew that these two songs are perfect for this day. Then we waited with excitement for the announcement "Louie and Sissy married 30 years!" Every year our relatives call in our anniversary and birthdays. No one has ever missed a date. Every person in the family gets announced on their special day. We waited. It never came. Wouldn’t you know it? The one day we are PROUD to have a milestone announced to the world, no one in the family remembered to call it in!

We looked at each other and busted out laughing! I then hugged him and said "Happy Anniversary Louie! Damn we are old!" and I pecked him on the cheek as we both went out the door in two different directions just like every other day.

On this day, I thank God for 30 amazing years with my best friend who accepts me for who I am; for better or worse...and believe me when I say, "I have been "worse" far more than I have been "better"!"

Poor Lou! Bless his heart.