You Say Goodbye...

It's been a week of convergent endings, in life in general and my own in particular.  My last week of work coincided with both Oprah Winfrey's and Mary Hart's (who retired after 30 years hosting Entertainment Tonight).   Although I didn't have quite the sendoff these gals had, Tuesday marked a definite shift in my lifestyle and my prospects for the future, one I'm eagerly anticipating. This was also the last week for two of my favorite competition/reality shows - Dancing With the Stars and American Idol.  We follow these shows from the beginning, and I can't help but get involved in the lives of the competitors and I miss them when the shows come to an end.  I'm just a sucker for watching people develop a talent into individual greatness, particularly when you see someone like Hines Ward (a football player for Pete's sake!) turn into a joyful, elegant ballroom dancer.

It makes you believe you can do anything if you set your mind to it.

Also this week, we're in Florida, making the first moves towards putting our house on the market to sell.  This is bittersweet for us. We've had some wonderful times here, and we put the house together totally from scratch.  At the desk where I'm sitting is a collection of photographs my son took as the house was being built 10 years ago.  Once it was finished, we had the delightful task of furnishing it from top to bottom - that was the most fun as a "homemaker" I've ever had, and it's doubtful whether I'll ever have another experience that comes close to resembling that.  As my husband says, this is probably the best house we'll ever own, so there's no surprise we have some mixed feelings about giving it up.  Realistically, it's the sensible thing to do- with a new grandbaby living in Dallas, how much time will we be spending in Florida?

Of course, no one ever said it's fun to be sensible.

Topping of a week of goodbyes was another one to my friend, C., who made the trip back from China only weeks after moving there, due to her mother's death.  Although the circumstances were sad, it was an unexpected gift to spend some more time with her, and reminded me again just how much I will miss her in the months/years ahead.

Last week I started rehearsing with my middle school chorus kids, preparing for their big spring concert.  One of their selections is a Beatles medley, which includes this song:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HBZ8ulc5NTg]

It got stuck in my head after rehearsal the other day..."You say yes, I say no, you say stop, I say go, you say goodbye and I say hello...hello, hello.  I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello."  It reminds me that with every goodbye comes the opportunity to say hello - to new careers, new homes, new relationships - even new TV shows (can anyone say So You Think You Can Dance?)

So as I say goodbye to some very important places, people, and experiences in my life, I also say hello to what the future might hold.  Life in general is full of surprises, and I'm looking forward to whatever comes next!

How about you?  Have you said goodbye to anything in your life recently?  And then said hello to something new and exciting?

Did You Just Call Me Grandma?

My son and daughter in law are surely busy pondering all those things that new parents-to be ponder, among them what name to choose for their baby.  With my daughter in law's Asian heritage, an entire new world of possible names opens up to them.  In Thailand, the custom is to give children easy to pronounce nicknames, since their given names are often long and complicated.  For instance, my daughter in law's nickname is Apple (yes, like Gwyneth Paltrow's daughter), or even just Ple. She has a sister nicknamed Cherry, and a little niece who answers to Idea. Meanwhile, here at home, we've been giving a little thought to what we'd like the child to call us.  I've never really liked "Grandma" or even "Grandmother," and it's rarely been used in our family.  My own grandmother referred to herself as "Mammy," a good old southern name that originated in slave days - perhaps that's what she felt like sometimes, because she did a lot of cooking and cleaning up.  I called my grandfather Granddad, which fit well because he performed lots of dad-like functions for me all through my childhood.  When Brian was born, I started out calling my mother Grammy, but sometime around the age of 3 or 4, he began calling her Mamoo.  I never knew where that came from, but it stuck, and that's what he calls her to this day.  My dad was always Papa, although I can't recall how that originated either.  Jim's parents were Grandma and Grandpa to Brian, and these traditional monikers seemed to fit their function in his life quite well.

I was intrigued by this article in the New York Times last week. Apparently, the issue of how to name ourselves as grandparents is a big one on baby boomer's minds.  "Resistant to being called anything that makes them sound old, baby-boomer grandparents have taken to accepting toddlers’ neologisms and ethnic variations or, better yet, naming themselves."  There are actually books about it. “The New Grandparents Name Book, a Lighthearted Guide to Picking the Perfect Grandparent Name” (ArtStone Press), offers 700 (yes, 700!) unstodgy alternatives to "Gram" and "Gramps."

So what are some of these new grandparent names?  G-Mom, DooDad, BuyaBuya (I certainly get that!), Nonna, Mimi, Popsi, PawPaw, Papa John (or Jim in our case).  For the sophisticated wine tasting set, there's Sonoma and Napa.  (I'm not making this up.)  Goldie Hawn's grandchildren call her GlamMa.  Blythe Danner requested Woof (!) but accepted Lalo as the children's choice.

I suspect that our final choices might end up being a bit more pedestrian.  Luckily, we're spared the need to come up with two sets of names, because of course the child can call his/her Thai grandparents by whatever Thai variations they choose.

Of course, it's entirely possible that the child will eschew whatever  names we pick and come up with something totally original.  That wouldn't surprise me in the least, given the independent and creative streaks brewing in those genes.

I just hope it's not Woof.  I'll happily surrender that one to Ms. Danner.

The One and Only

When I was growing up in the 1960's, there weren't many only children in the neighborhood.  In fact, I was the "only" one on the block.  I was also the "only" one in my classroom for the first five years of school, at which point another "only" entered the scene  - a young man with whom I fell promptly in love. It seems I was fated to be attracted to only children, for my next two boyfriends were also the centerpiece of their triangular families. As was the one who ultimately became my husband, thirty five years ago this month.  In the early days of our courtship, people half heartedly teased us about the havoc this was likely to wreak on our relationship.  "You're both so used to getting your own way," one of my aunts said.  "You're both so independent," my best friend told me.  "You're both so spoiled!" my dad said.

Later, as it appeared that nothing would hold us back from pledging our futures together, friends and relatives pointed out that  someday we would  each have the sole responsibility of caring for elderly parents. "You'll have no one to help you," they warned.  And still later, when it became apparent that we would have an only child ourselves, the warnings became even more dire.  "Your poor son will have such a lonely life!  He won't even have aunts and uncles and cousins!"

Only children have historically been the subject of pity, and have been looked upon as inherently selfish and inordinately spoiled. The myth of the only child dates back to the late 1800s when G. Stanley Hall, known as the founder of child psychology, called being an only child "a disease in itself."

I'm sorry to inform Mr. Hall that modern research can't come up with a shred of evidence suggesting only children are more prone to psychological disorders.  In fact, these studies indicate that only children are more intelligent and more highly educated, which isn't surprising when you consider that an only child is the sole beneficiary of her parents resources in time and money.

A recent poll (reported by ABC News) suggests that only 3% of people think it's "ideal" to have only one child.  There was a time when I would have placed myself squarely among that 3% - but maybe not so much anymore. I have to admit that it gets lonely here at the apex of the triangle. Until I got older, I didn't realize how alone I really was. No siblings to share special occasions or tragedies. No extended family to call on for help with moving or garage sales or trips to the airport.

And most obviously, there will be no one to share memories with when my parents are gone. When those two important sides of the triangle are removed, only I will be left teetering precariously on the tip of what was once our solid little family.

Of course, I have my own family now, triangular as it is.  But now that it's about to grow by one, I feel a stirring of excitement.  I wonder, will the only child syndrome come to an end with this generation?

Only time will tell.

I know several of my regular readers and friends are only children, or have only children.  How about you? What do you think?  Is being an only child "ideal"?  Or is it lonely at the tip of the triangle?

Habit Forming

A journal can get you in the habit of writing regularly, of finding a time and a place to write. You're not just jotting things down at random on little pieces of paper (though this can also be a good idea): you have a notebook and you write in it everyday. Five minutes, an hour. It doesn't matter. You're starting a habit. And while you may think you need great rushes of adrenaline and creative highs to write, the fact is that very little gets written unless writing becomes a habit. Courage and Craft, by Barbara Abercrombie.

Within the past year, I've formed the habit of exercising every morning for at least 20 minutes.  It wasn't easy to form this habit, because it interfered with my morning coffee/reading hour , which is quite sacred.  But now that I have, I find my day is a little bit off kilter if I miss.

I've read it takes 20 repetitions to form a habit.  Would you join me in a writing challenge?  For the next 20 days, we'll spend 10 or 15 minutes writing.  It doesn't matter when, or where, or even what you write about.  It could be something silly your friend said, a new song you heard on the radio, something noteworthy in the news, or a favorite memory from childhood.

Just write everyday.  Who knows, we might just form a writing habit!

First Steps

We  had torrential rains here this weekend, a steady downpour which began last night and didn't let up the entire day.  Yesterday morning I snuggled into my favorite chair, coffee in hand, and watched as the wind tossed my neighbors magnolia tree to and fro, sending a cascade of pink blossoms raining down onto her driveway. We've had a cascade of good fortune in my family lately, for which I'm more than grateful.  In the past few years we've had times when fortune has rained less than blessings upon us, and though we survived it was not without scars.  So although I won't say we "earned" the recent glad tidings, I feel as if  we've paid enough dues to enjoy them without guilt.

While I've written before about my aversion to change, I recently wrote about the positive effect of initiating change rather than having it thrust upon you.  When I made the decision to resign from my job, it was as if I had opened a door which allowed all sorts of new possibilities to enter in.  Within weeks of making that decision, we learned about our impending grandparent-hood.  Then, in another wonderful stroke of good fortune, last Friday my husband was offered full time employment at the company where he once worked, and from where he was laid off in July 2009.

Taking the first step appears key - having the courage to set things in motion with a decision, an action, a forward movement toward the direction of a dream. My son and daughter in law started it all, I think, when they moved to Texas in January.   In their case, that movement toward a new way of life seemed to be the spark that set an actual new life into being. And they inspired me to start thinking about my own situation and how I needed to change it.  I now feel excited about change and for the first time in years I can anticipate it with pleasure instead fear.

Robert Collier, who wrote books on positive thinking and self motivation in the late 19th century, put it this way: "Take the first step, and your mind will mobilize all its forces to your aid. But the first essential is that you begin. Once the battle is started, all that is within and without you will come to your assistance."  

"All that is within and without you will come to your assistance..." It's not difficult to understand that once we make a decision and begin to move in the direction of our desire, we learn to marshal all the forces necessary to help make that desire a reality.  What's fascinating to me is the way "all that is without us" seems to get caught up in the movement as well.

It's as if the universe senses the energy and wants to join the party.  And I say, come on in - you're more than welcome.

How about you? Have you ever taken a first step, made one big change, and then had a series of positive changes occur as a result?