Solid Foundation

I see posts on facebook that discuss the 15 Habits To Teach Your Teenage Daughter or 10 Things You Need To Know To Raise Sons. I see these and I used to read them but after awhile I decided that I don't need another reminder of what I am NOT doing correctly when it comes to parenting. Usually after reading them I don't feel any better or encouraged about the job that I am doing raising three kids by myself. 

Let's face it, my kids are almost "raised" so to speak. Jake is 17 and will be finishing his senior year in high school this year; Jenna is 14 (going on 24) and rarely wants to spend time with me or hear my opinion. I still have some time left with Jon Keeton but even at age 9 he lives in his own world and he'd rather listen to his friends and older siblings than his mom. They have reached that age where listening to mom goes in one ear and out the other most of the time. I'm reminded of the school teacher voice on Charlie Brown and I am convinced that is what my kids hear when I speak. 

My dad told me as a young mom that there would come a time when my kids would begin to drift away from me. "Gaby, they won't always need you/listen to you like they do when they are little. So you need to teach the important stuff early, when you have their full attention." He said that all to soon they would begin to get distracted by friends and the noise of the outside world. He reminded me that now was the time to instill in them the "big stuff" in life - knowing right from wrong, meaning of family, love, support, manners, honesty, compassion, kindness, and empathy.  "Teach them these things now Gaby, and you will create a foundation on which they can grow. This stuff they will take with them wherever they go and in whatever they do."

And he was right. They don't really listen to me that much anymore. They of course know I am here for them and love them but right now they'd rather discuss the details of their lives with each other and their friends. I get that. I also accept it. I know I am not here to be their friend but to be their parent. And honestly I don't really care who is dating whom, what the latest new video game craze is, or what shoes everyone in high school is wearing. I don't have the time for that, but I do always have the time for them. 

As a new school year begins and my kids move up to the next grade level, the same old doubts begin to emerge and I question myself on how I am doing raising them. Did I tell them about this? Should I have let them do that? What if they forget to do this? I should have reminded them about that! It is never ending unfortunately. I worry. A lot. 

But thankfully amid the worrying and the reminding I see ... Jake return an extra dollar that was given to him by mistake at the bank; Jenna choosing to stand beside a friend who is going through a life changing event while others judge and bully; Jon Keeton on the football field offering a hand and encouraging word to a fallen team mate. 

Through out our chaotic busy lives I've caught a glimpse of ... Jake shaking hands with people he meets for the first time and introducing himself; Jenna saying please and thank you to the waitress when ordering food; Jon Keeton holding the door open for me and then continue to hold it so that others can come through. Little moments of the big stuff that make my heart smile and for a instance the worrying gets put on pause. They remembered - and without me reminding them. I am a proud mom and I know my dad is too. 

Now my kids make mistakes, bad choices and misbehave - they are still kids after all. I still have to remind them of their curfew, to clean their rooms and to do their homework. Sometimes I also have to remind them of the big stuff again ... Be nice to your brother/sister/friend; Be thankful you have a car/tv/clothes; Remember to say thank you/please/yes ma'am. I know I still have some "raising" left to do with them. However, as they make their way to new classes, meet new friends and have new experiences I am grateful that some stuff seems to have stuck. 

Thanks Dad for telling me to teach the "big stuff" so that as my kids grow up and move away from me they will always have a solid foundation on which to stand. 

No Regrets!

Today would have been my 20th wedding anniversary ... if I had chosen to stay married to Jake and Jenna's dad. Wow … 20 years! So many choices I have made in these past 20 years. Some good ones and some not so good ones. Some were thought out and calculated choices, while others were made in a quick moment in time. Most were my own choices but there were times when other peoples decisions created a situation were I was forced to make a choice.

I would often call my dad when big life choices arose and seek his wisdom. I recall the first big decision I made on my own. It was my sophomore year in college and I decided to change my major. I was scared to call my dad and tell him that the plan had changed. I was nervous he wouldn't approve of my choice. So ... one late evening in the Thomas Cooper Library, on a pay phone, I called home - collect. (No cell phones back then). My parents accepted the charges and I commenced with the normal, routine chit chat with my mom. Then Dad got on the phone. I answered his standard questions. Yes - I am studying. Yes - I am eating. No - I don't NEED any money (but I WANTED some). No - I wasn't partying every night (just every OTHER night).  "Anything else to report Gaby?" my dad asked. I paused, took a deep breath and told him that I was changing my major and had decided on advertising and marketing. There was only silence on the other end. "Will you still graduate on time?" was the only question he finally asked. I assured him that I would and that I had thought long and hard about it. This is what I wanted. "Well Gaby, that is why you are there at college. To figure out what it is you want to do." He proceeded to tell me that this was my choice to make and reminded me that it was alright to veer off the planned route if needed. He explained that my choices in life will steer me down many different paths and that along the way I will make some well planned out choices and other times I will have to make decisions on the spot. "Just remember no matter the choice, or the outcome, own your decision. These choices are yours. Don't look back. Life's to short. Have no regrets Gaby." 

I remember flying home just days before my 30th birthday with two small children in tow, having just made the difficult decision to become a single mom. Dad wasn't exactly thrilled about that choice, but there he was at the airport with open arms. As we walked through the airport, Jenna in a baby sling and Jake in a stroller, he looked at me and I could see the concern on his face. I could tell he wasn't happy about my choice. "No regrets Gaby?" he questioned. I stopped in the middle of the airport and looked at him and then down at my kids, and said "No Dad. Not today. Not with these two." He smiled and hugged me and just said "OK. Let's go home."

The choices I have made throughout my life, I am sure are not ones that many people would choose. Someone once said to me ... "I would never want to live your journey, it's been way too hard." At first I was slightly offended but then soon realized that yep, she was right, it would be too hard, for her. She couldn't handle my journey or my choices. They were all mine. And yes, the journey was hard at times but it was also funny, sweet, kind, loving and just plain happy most of the time. 

People often ask me if I regret being divorced, twice. I used to stumble over that question and get embarrassed but now I can honestly just answer no. I explain that I certainly did not plan for it to go that way, but in the end I wouldn't want it any other way. For if I had experienced a different journey or made other choices then I would not have three beautiful, silly, funny, kind, loving, and wonderful children. The best three choices I ever made. The three choices of which I am the most proud.

Thanks Dad. You were right. Life is short. These choices are mine. I'm not looking back. No regrets! 

Not Perfect

I usually use this space to write about the great stuff my dad taught me and the truth of the matter is that for all the wonderful things he did, he also did some not so wonderful things too. These are moments that I would much rather not remember but they are indeed still lessons after all, mainly the lesson of "do as I say not as I do" variety. 

Coming to the realization that my dad wasn't perfect was difficult. And even though his mistakes hurt me or disappointed me, most of the time they usually were not about me at all. I learned as the older I got that my parents weren't just mom and dad. They were individuals and had experiences that went beyond just taking care of me. I learned and discovered that their journey through life was filled with some mistakes and failures but it was also filled with successes and triumphs. Through it all, I always felt loved, I always felt important and I always felt safe. 

I have had my share of bad choices, mistakes and failures and I am sure I will continue to make more. Dad would often tell me that it's not the mistake you need to concentrate on it is learning from it and not making the same mistake again. He would give me a hug and say "Do better Gaby. Let's not dwell on the mistake." He would remind me that even if you fail at one thing it doesn't make you a failure.  He would also remind me that with every choice there is always a consequence, good or bad. And I would often pay the consequence and sometimes it was painful. He also taught me that no matter the choices, the mistakes, or the failures that I make in life I do not have to let them define me or take away from "the good stuff" in my life.  

I know I have disappointed my children and at one time or another my choices in life have affected them.  

So to my kids I say these 10 things:
I am not perfect.
I will disappoint you.
I will make bad choices sometimes.
I will fail at certain things.
I am sorry if my choices hurt you.
I am always going to be your mom.
I chose to have you and you are the best choice I have ever made.
I will always be proud to call you my child.
I will always be here.
I will always love you.

Even after all the bad choices and the bad mistakes … even after realizing that my parents were much more than just mom and dad, the take away is that I never once in my life did not feel important. I just hope that my three kids know that no matter the mistakes I make, in the end they realize how important they are to me. That they know, no matter what, that I will always love them. Because no matter the circumstances in my life, I always knew that I had a place to call home.

To Jake, Jenna and Jon Keeton please know that my heart is your home and that will never change. You can always always come back home!

Go pursue your dreams!

Tonight I had to say good bye to my dearest friend as she embarks on a new journey, and tomorrow I have to do it all over again with another dear friend. They are both off to pursue their dreams, to follow their path, to shine their light on another part of the world. We all have dreams and we all have people around us that encourage and support those dreams. For me that person was my dad.

For I dreamed as a young girl of being many things ... but most seriously about being a photographer, a photographer for Life magazine. I started collecting Life magazines and would stare at the photos dreaming about being able to do what those photographers could do ... capture a story in one single picture. Of course, this was back in the day when we didn't have digital cameras and had to buy rolls of film and then send them off and wait days to see what image you had actually captured. We had some inexpensive camera I would carry around and snap pictures of everything and everybody, honing my craft I'd like to call it, but more often than not I was just wasting film (money). But my parents finally took me seriously and invested in a fancy (expensive) 35 mm camera and I was thrilled. It was the acknowledgement that I needed from them that they not only believed in me but also believed that I was somewhat competent. One year on my birthday, I received several expensive lenses to use with the camera and was told to "Go pursue your dream Gaby." I overheard someone say as I unwrapped the gift, "I sure hope she makes a career of this, for those are some pricey toys." To this day I will never forget what my father said in response ... "Well, even if she doesn't become a world famous photographer, she should have the opportunity to pursue her dreams, big or small. It isn't about the money, it's about encouraging her to dream. And giving her the opportunity to follow that dream as far as she wants." In that exact moment I remember not only feeling that the pressure was off but I also knew that no matter what happened and whomever I "became" I knew my dad thought I was good enough to invest in and actually believed that my dreams, no matter what they were, would come true.

Well ... I didn't become a world famous photographer ... and along the way some of my other "dreams" did not come true ... but all the while I never forgot that moment in my life when having a dream was scary and I was anxious about pursuing it, and there through it all was my dad giving me the encouragement to proceed, no matter the outcome. "Don't ever stop dreaming Gaby. For when you do, you will lose your way, you will lose your light."

So, when my kids come to me with some new sport they want to pursue, some new career that want to have, some new invention they think will change the world,  I try not roll my eyes or think about how much this is going to cost but instead, I remember a time when I had a dream and I had a person who believed in me. So, I smile and say ok ... if you want this then lets make this happen. And as I look around my house tonight, I could just see drums, guitars, flutes and keyboards clutter a corner of my house. I could only see football helmets, lacrosse sticks and gymnastic leos piled on the floor or also just see art pieces hung on my walls but instead I am happy to see lots and lots of dreams encouraged. Some of them might not be who they become and more often than not they are left forgotten to collect dust. But it all makes it worthwhile the moment my son sits down once again at those drums and gets lost in the beat, or the instant I catch my daughter doing a back flip in the backyard and mouthing the word "yes!", or even when my youngest son simply grabs a football and goes outside to practice his throw. In those moments, I see that the encouragement wasn't wasted, that their light hasn't been lost, it is still shining.

So tonight as I sit with a box full of journals, stories and pictures, tons of pictures, that were once my dreams, I can begin to see my light once again shine. Thanks dad for always seeing the light within me and reminding me it still shines, even when I thought it had faded.

Play with the small hurts

Over the past few weeks we have experienced a few small hurts right here at home. Jenna sprained her ankle - ended up on crutches. Jake fractured his shoulder - arm in a sling. I just started a new workout program, (bootcamp of all things) and just after 3 days, I hurt! We all hurt. Hurt in places we didn't know it was possible to hurt. It has been tough. And through all the hurt, the first words I found myself saying to all of us were ... Yes, I know it hurts, but you know what, you gotta learn to "play with the small hurts".

That is what my dad used to say. For when anything painful happened, my dad would tell us these exact words ... "play with the small hurts". That is what he said ... often. Whenever we complained about exercise, injuries, field hockey or even when life seemed to hand us down an answer that just plain hurt: a position on the team we didn't get; a boyfriend that broke up with us; a grade we felt we didn't deserve; a friend that had turned on us ... whatever the "hurt", dad would just say ... "play with the small hurts". It usually started out about something athletic or sports related but somehow he managed to turn it into a life lesson that stuck with us. I hear these words echo inside my head every time I begin to hurt.

So, when the "big hurts" came and came they did, and sometimes all at once, I heard these words once again rattle around my brain.  And during that time, there were moments when the hurt seemed impossible, unsurmountable, and even unforgiveable and I really just felt like quitting, I'd hear my dads voice reminding me that the only thing I needed to do was to fall back on his words and know that if I continued to play though it, then I would eventually get past it.

"Play with the small hurts Gaby! For when you do, you will be better and stronger and wiser because of them. You will be better at the game, because you played though the hurt, you got past the pain. You will be a better athlete, a better friend, and most importantly a better person because of it".

So when the hurt becomes a little more painful than you would like to bear, remember to play through the hurt, knowing that when you do you will become a better person on the other side.

Thanks Dad, for teaching me to "play with the small hurts".

For the times they are a changin'

Change is hard. In my life of almost 42 years, there has been lots of change. Let's see: I have changed my hairstyle numerous times - long, short, permed, straight - I've done it all and probably have pictures to prove it; I have changed jobs at least 8 times, just since I graduated from college; I have changed husbands 2 times, and lets not even count the boyfriends; And I have moved and lived in 6 different states, 2 foreign countries and too many to count, dorms, apartments and houses. In fact the longest I have lived anywhere as an adult is in this house, right here in Irmo, SC ... 8 years. But even though I have lived here the longest, the most change has occurred right here. I've lost a parent, divorced a husband, raised 3 kids alone, and changed jobs 3 times and that's just the "big stuff". Lots of change internally as well. Yes ... change is hard and scary. I have to admit I am not a fan of change. 

I think change scares me because I fear the unknown and I have no control. You see, I like things scheduled, organized, predictable … me in control. I have lived this way for about 20 years now.  I have a calendar that I carry around with me – everywhere. I always have and I clearly remember when this started for me.  My freshman year at Carolina – with my first Mortar Board. Now, I’m not sure if USC still has them, but for me it became my life. I looked forwarded to getting one each school year – writing in events, birthdays, even school work. It had my life mapped out, planned, organized. I looked forward to the end of the week when I could fold down the page and know that it was complete. I had followed “the plan”, crossed off my “to dos”. It was the schedule of my life. I relished in buying a new calendar each year and as the years went by they became more detailed, each day now had time slots not just a block of white space.  I could plan my life out in 30 minute increments – how fantastic! I was a happy girl. So there I went through life, planning, organizing, and scheduling.  And I was good at it. I had my check list, my plan for life and as the years went by I began to check things off my list. Graduate from college – Check. Get married – check. Have 2 kids – check. I even scheduled my pregnancies. I had this thing called life figured out.  Even after my first divorce I still felt like I was somewhat in control. This was just a slight bump in the road. I could plan around this. So back to my calendar and lists I went. Move back home – check. Find a job – check. Buy a house – check.  I kept my calendar close and continued to plan my life, for I was in control. 

Well ... we all know how that works out. I learned quickly that trying to schedule life certainly didn't stop it from changing. Change it did. ALOT! And I now know that it will continue to change, sometimes for the good and sometimes for the bad. And through it all, I hear my dad's voice reminding me that without change we would fail to grow. "Gaby the only thing constant in life is change. You can't stop it and you can't control it. So you gotta learn to embrace it and just try learn from it. Change isn't a bad thing. Change gives us the opportunity to grow and learn. Just remember it is the only thing you can count on. Even Bob Dylan sang ... 'For the times they are a-changin'." 

Thanks again Dad, for that lesson. Still a hard one to learn but through all the changes I have experienced I am certain that one thing will never change ... I'll always be your little girl. 

Football's Biggest Fan

I can not think of football without immediately thinking of my dad. My dad loved football. Pro, college, high school ... it didn't matter, he loved the game. So we learned to love it as well. Growing up, every Saturday and Sunday in our house, football was on the TV. He had his favorite teams but it didn't really matter if that team was playing because if a game was on TV, we were watching it. Therefore, I learned early on all about the game. Just because he didn't have any sons didn't mean he wasn't going to pass on his knowledge and most importantly his passion for the game.

We are Redskins fans, and from an early age I knew all the players, their positions and could follow a game pretty well. It was the era of The Hogs, The Fun Bunch and lets no forget, The Diesel, John Riggins. These names were often talked about and analyzed every Sunday from our couch. They were a part of our family. My dad took us to a Redskins game every year, an experience that I treasure and recall fondly. I remember my dad teaching me the counter trey in my bedroom with my stuffed animals as the defensive line and my two friends and I were the offense. It was hands on football training in the best way he knew. There was always a football around and he was always willing to throw it with you or anyone. He took the time to show me how to place my fingers on the laces and the exact way to throw so the ball would slide off my fingers into a perfect spiral down the field. No child of his would hear the words "You throw like a girl" coming from anyone if he had any say in it.  Boyfriends and guys from my school would often come by the house just to see my dad and bring friends and throw together a game in the back yard. When he found out that I was going to be attending the University of South Carolina, my dad's first response was "Great. They actually have a real football team!" In fact when my parent's drove me to college for the first time, we had to take a side trip out to the stadium before they headed home. We pulled up to the stadium and he pulled a football out of the trunk of the car. We some how managed to walk out on to the field and he told me to go long and threw me a perfect spiral pass. To this day, whenever I attend a game at Williams-Brice Stadium that memory isn't far away. When my son Jake was old enough and could barely hold his head up with the helmet on, my Dad signed him up to play football. My dad attended every practice and every game and was even named an honorary coach because he was there so often (and loudly coaching from the sidelines). To see my dad be able to pass that on to my son and share those moments with Jake is one of the fondest memories I have of him as a grandfather. Even life's challenges were often explained to us in football terms. The one he used most was: "Remember girls, don't go 99 yards just to punt."  I've even said that to my own kids when they feel like giving up on something.

I hope someday I'll be able to take my kids to a football game and let them experience the thrill of being in a stadium with the fans, the band and the excitement that comes along with it. But for now, I will be content with cuddling on the couch with my kids and thankful that I can pass on the tradition of loving the game that my father loved so much and instilled in me. So on this Super Bowl Sunday I hope you are enjoying the game with friends and family and cheering on you favorite team! I'll be sure to toast my dad and know that he's watching with us.

Poppi and Jake

Perfect Pasta

I guess I'll stick with the pasta theme and recount a story about when my dad had to cook dinner for us one night. I must have been in the 1st grade, we were living in Austin, TX and my mom was taking night classes. So that left my dad in charge of dinner a few nights a week, something that we were not accustomed to at all, because my mom always cooked dinner at our house. It was the way things were and to have Dad step into her shoes for a night filled me with a bit of trepidation.

So the first night we were left in our dad's care he made spaghetti. Pretty simple and straight forward and it went according to plan, right until the very end. As always, my dad took this opportunity to teach us something and at this moment it was how to make sure the pasta was perfectly done. We were standing around the stove as the pasta boiled, he reached in the pot, grabbed a noodle and flung it above his head and there it stuck to the ceiling. He smiled at us and said: "If it sticks, then it’s done." My sister and I stood there in disbelief. This most certainly was not the way mom made sure the pasta was done. We laughed at him and questioned his authority on this method but he convinced us with some fancy explanation (knowing him I'm sure it involved physics) and we believed him. After dinner as we cleaned up, I asked dad how he was going to get the spaghetti noodle off the ceiling and he looked at both of us and said, "Let's just leave it there. Let's see how long it takes mom to notice it. It will be our little secret." So, there it stuck. And there it stuck for days, maybe even months ... lets just say it was there for awhile before Mom finally discovered our secret.  But every time I was in the kitchen with dad, he would point up to the ceiling and we'd laugh and snicker at our little "secret". At our special moment in time where we came together and managed to fix dinner and survive without mom, well at least for one night.

I know that this isn't a life altering lesson in the overall scheme of things but he took an opportunity to turn a new and anxious experience in my life into a funny, silly moment that I remember often and always with a smile. So if you are ever at my house while I'm cooking spaghetti, you will no doubt see me grab a noodle out of the pot and throw it at the wall and say, "if it sticks, then it’s done". But no worries, I do clean up afterwards.

Carb it up

My daughter is in competitive gymnastics and sometimes it requires a bit of traveling outside of our home town. This weekend we are headed to upstate SC for a meet and I have the opportunity to visit with a dear college friend. She asked if there was anything specific that Jenna eats the night before her meet and it reminded me of a special tradition my dad started with my high school field hockey team.

My parents owned a pasta making company for a few years while we were in high school (you'll hear about that experience in a later installment) so we always had plenty of fresh pasta in our house. My dad always in his teaching/coach mode, insisted on having the entire field hockey team over before the first game of the year to load us up on some carbs for the big game. So after practice we all would gather at my house, sit around the table and devour some pasta. We would laugh and talk and eat and eat and eat. We saw it as just a time to hang out with our friends and eat some good food. But my dad knew it was an opportunity for the team to come together off the field and bond, which he knew would make us a much better team on the field. Now our hockey team didn't win a lot of games but we fought hard together and we stuck up for each other. We probably lost more games then we won but we came together as a team and always had a good time on and off the field. We were more than just teammates, we were friends and we were a family. So I want to thank my dad and my mom (she did the majority of the cooking) for providing me with not just a bowl of pasta but with the opportunity to form some friendships that have lasted a lifetime.

So a special shout out to all my Wakefield field hockey sisters: Next time your in the neighborhood, stop by and we can share a plate of pasta.

Relentless Pursuit

My dad used these two words a lot and usually together. The dictionary defines it as:
      Relentless: showing or promising no abatement of severity, intensity, strength, or pace
      Pursuit: the act of following in order to overtake, capture, kill, or defeat

To me it just meant basically to never give up, don't stop till you get what you are after, stick with it and you will succeed. I was probably about 12 years old when I heard my dad yell these words at me for the first time. And yes, you read correctly, he yelled them at me. A bunch of us had gathered down at the pond for a day of ice skating and laughs and my dad decided to start a game of ice skating tag. Well, of course I was the youngest, so I was "it" more often than I wasn't, but my dad knew that I had staying power if not speed. He pulled me aside and told me that I needed to find my target (in this case a friend of my dad's who was a bit wobbly on his skates) and then to stay with him, because pretty soon he would take a spill. He looked at me and said "you can tag him, just stick with it." With that he skated off and looked over his shoulder and yelled at me ... "Remember Gaby, relentless pursuit. Relentless pursuit!" And he was right, it might have taken a bit longer than I liked but instead of giving up I stayed on his heels and skated after him and wouldn't you know it ... down he went and I was there to tag him.

He would tell me these words often and in many different circumstances. It became my cheer from him in whatever I set out to accomplish. Sometimes victory and success came quickly and other times it was a long and tedious journey but as long as I kept pursuing then my success, in some form or another, would come. So these days when things are not going at quite the speed I'd like or an obstacle is thrown my way and I'm feeling less than motivated, I often hear my dad's voice in my head shouting : "Relentless pursuit Gaby". I'm reminded of that moment on the ice when he yelled at me and saw the strength inside of me to never give up. It encourages me, yet again to keep going and if I do I know I will succeed.

So today, I'd like to give you a bit of encouragement in whatever it is you are pursuing. I'll be your cheerleader standing on the sideline, yelling at you .... Relentless pursuit! Relentless pursuit!

Welcome

That's a picture of my dad and me about 36 years ago. I don't remember that day specifically but I'm told that he was teaching me how to fly a kite. I have no doubt he was doing that but also teaching me some little life lesson while he showed me how to maneuver the kite as well. That was my dad and I was definitely daddy's lil girl. (Seriously, ask anyone who knows our family and they will agree!)

I find myself lately saying ... "Well, my dad taught me ..." to  my friends but mainly to my children, so I thought I should probably start writing some of these things down to pass along to them. You see, my dad died three years ago and I hope that by recording his little life lessons he taught (big and small, silly and important), I will honor him in a way I know he would love. He encouraged me from a young age to write because he saw the joy I got from it and a passion I had for it. I guess its about time I finally listened to him on that bit of advice: "Gaby, don't ever stop writing. Write every day, even if it's just a little bit each day, sit down and write."

So, welcome to my blog. I apologize up front for any blogging etiquette I lack and ask that you bear with me as I fumble my way along this new adventure. So stay tuned for some interesting stories and funny memories I have with my dad. I hope that as you join me on this journey that you catch a glimpse of the incredible man that was my father, maybe smile or even chuckle at our expense, perhaps stir a special memory that you have about your own dad and maybe, just maybe ... learn a life lesson too! 

Thanks dad for all the lessons, laughs and a wonderful lifetime of memories.