THE LITTLE THINGS

I headed outside to get the newspaper and the mail. Sue Palka was right: "very low humidity, warm lovely breezes...It's just a joy to be outside." I wasn't looking for them, but they stood out in the yard. Three tiny splashes of yellow successfully gained my attention as I walked. The rains of May finally stopped, and the three little flowers seemed to represent hope. They made me smile. The little things really do make a difference.

IMAGE AND PERCEPTION

The recent news of the termination of a popular panel talk show host reminded me of two things. The first was an episode of "The Andy Griffith Show". There was a carnival in Mayberry, that featured a burlesque show, in which a scantily clad dancer gyrated to the sounds of a one-man band. Floyd the Barber loved it, but Aunt Bee and Miss Clara weren't having it. To them, the dancer was indecent, and they marched their mad selves to the courthouse to tell Andy he needed to shut the carnival down. Andy, out of respect for his aunt confronted the carnival owner, but, in fairness to the people in town who did appreciate the show, merely asked if the dancer could "tone it down".  

The second, was an episode of "The Steve Harvey Show". A family wanted his help convincing their relative that her daily choice of attire was inappropriate, dangerous, and provocative. They were afraid for her, and considered her various states of undress reckless and irresponsible. The relative had two daughters, and it was revealed that they, too, were regularly embarrassed by their mother's choice of skimpy attire, and perplexed by her defense of it. The woman joined her family on stage, (her disgusted mother was there, too) after they'd petitioned Steve for help. She nervously greeted her family and began to speak. She was extremely physically fit, soft spoken, pleasant and articulate. She had a beautiful smile and was poised. She revealed that her self worth had been impacted by a cruel prank when she was in high school. It caused her to feel she needed to be less tomboyish and more sexy. She was quite proud of herself, but there were no boundaries to accompany her pride. She'd lost the ability to determine what was appropriate attire for when and where. The slight in high school caused her to adopt the mantra, "People should accept me the way I am." Unfortunately, it was clear that she didn't really accept herself, she was simply projecting an image that had been desperately pushing back against the actions and words of someone to whom she had given too much power. Those old wounds manifested in over-the-top behavior. She wanted to be noticed, accepted, and loved. She wanted to be seen, praised and secure. There was nothing wrong with that. Unfortunately, her own behavior betrayed her; brought unwanted attention and criticism. She was hard-working and brilliant, but her exterior made it impossible for others to embrace her, or take her seriously. Steve reminded her, in spite of her stance, that there was no rule that said anyone was obligated to accept her or her choices.

He said, "I'm really a bit surprised. I was expecting you to sound like your outfits." He launched into a mumbling, comical monologue of broken English. He continued, "I really was. I thought it was gonna be damned near an embarrassing moment for your mom...you shocked me...you're going to open your daughters up to the same ridicule, and that's why you gotta stop...Your body ain't for everybody...I've got some fine daughters. I'd kill for them daughters...If you take the imagination off of a man, the hunt is over." 

I'm sure someone had been trying to tell the now unemployed talk show host to tone herself down, too. Lord knows, her antics were consistent, cartoon-ish, and hilarious, but too much of anything can become annoying very quickly--even to your own people. 

Speculation that her over-the-top demeanor was her undoing, is now being met with cries of racism and sexism. People are surprised that her penchant for "keeping it real" is what was so offensive to some viewers. Still others are appalled that she kept it a bit too real, and aren't the least bit surprised by her termination. 

Their unrelated fictive kinship to her, drove them to hoping she'd be, and do better. She was unfairly tasked to represent us all, but in the end was considered embarrassing, and found guilty of setting back, hundreds of years, the strides Black women had made to be respected.

We;re finally represented on national television and what do we get? We get a daily dose of varying states of loud and wrong. We see less of Julia Baker, Liz McIntyre, Nyota Uhura, Claire Huxtable, or either Vivian Banks, and more ratchetness on top of excruciating ratchetness. 

Many stopped watching, or only tuned in when the host wasn't there. She was clowning and having a ball; being hysterically real and seemingly unaware of the unspoken rule that she was supposed to "act right" on national television; rejecting the long held, and burdensome duty of representing an entire race. 

No one had ever checked her. If they did, she wasn't listening. 

She thought she was fabulous, and thought everyone else did, too. 

She forgot that money talks, and she was not indispensable.

Via reality television, it seems that television is infested with well-dressed, well coiffed, well-heeled, spa-loving Black women with beat faces and lots of coin. On every channel they're wiling out. Somebody decided that ratchetness sells. The minute they speak and give the world a glimpse of their loud, profane, rude, eye-rolling, lip smacking, neck rotating, finger pointing selves, the classy image they presented when they were silent is immediately and irreparably shattered. It's like My Fair Lady gone horribly bad. 

Women are being given platforms to behave as abominably as they possibly can, and the sounds and images will be there for generations to see  and evaluate. 

We finally get to “the table” and we put our elbows on it, slurp, burp, spill, and use the wrong fork.

Every day on television, beautiful Black women lower the bar.  Are they being themselves or giving the world what is expected of them? Did someone tell, convince, or coach them to be combative, overly animated, lacking in finesse and charm? Are they aware that for every viewer who's amused by their antics, there are others who are mortified and furious? 

Is anyone, other than Steve Harvey telling women the truth? Are women even being honest with each other? Have we been deceived into thinking that everyone who comes with constructive criticism, helpful advice, or pure wisdom is a hater? Do we now reject those who teach us to be our best selves? Why do we defend what debases and maligns us? 

Unfortunately, Blackness and the attributes of a strong Black woman have been wrongly characterized as being synonymous with the very behavior that enemies of African American achievement and pride prefer to see. Sadly, many women in the public eye are playing into the hands of everyone who ever deemed Black people as inferior, unintelligent, and uncivilized. 

There is a huge difference between being spirited, fun-loving and confident and making a spectacle of oneself. There's a difference between "doing you" and screwing yourself.

It really is time for self and soul searching. In so many areas, we aren't putting our best feet forward; we're making excuses for lousy behavior. We're applauding mediocrity and snubbing excellence. We're arguing our right to be ourselves, but we aren't being ourselves. We're feeding into a centuries old stereotype and because of countless, repeated examples of ratchetness in the media, we're misinforming and convincing the world that we are all ratchet. 

Why should anyone be shocked by an intelligent Black woman as if she is an exception to the rule? Perhaps we've displayed and justified too much ignorance. Why do we insist on dumbing down? Why do we accept platforms and take money to paint ourselves in an unfavorable light? When the platform givers have had enough; when they've laughed enough; when they've convinced enough viewers that their abysmal view of Black womanhood is authentic, they pull the rug out. Instead of looking in the mirror to see the real problem, ratchetness always looks for someone or something else to blame.

"What happened to us?! What happened to us?! Who are you? Do you know who you are? What happened to the pride and the dignity and the love and respect that we had for one another? Where did it go? And how--how do we get it back?" 

~Cicely Tyson as Aunt Myrtle, 

“Madea's Family Reunion”

LOVE

This morning, a friend asked, "Why does Love have to hurt?" I sensed an emergency; an urgency to respond. I didn't want her to think, or feel, or ponder the notion that Love was some bad, painful, wicked thing for another second. I don't want anyone to. Things may get rough, but never that rough. Love hurting? Naaaaah. That's a lie--one of those pit-of-Hell-variety lies. It's the great disappointment and despondency as a result of your deep caring about, and genuine investment in a thing, or a person that hurts. It's the wound to your unguarded heart that hurts. Love, itself, never hurts--ever. 
God is love..: )

SESA WO SUBAN

Confucius said, "Wherever you go, go with all your heart.", but then, the prophet Jeremiah wrote, "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?"
Thomas à Kempis wrote, "Wherever you go, there you are.", and Neil Gaiman wrote, "Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. The common denominator in all of a person's interactions is him or herself, and the contents of the heart. It's good to remember that. No one ever has to tolerate the you that you take with you.

It's awfully nice when others are glad to see you approaching--not so much when they have an inkling to throw an impromptu party when you go. There is no law or rule, that anyone has to tolerate you being, or doing you, or accept you as you are...nowhere...ever. Only family members do that, and even they have limits. 
Some people have never been properly checked. Maybe parents didn't do it, and released spoiled brats into society. Maybe teachers, without parental support, threw up their hands, and longed for summer. Maybe others waited until they'd reached their breaking points and decided that saying something would be a waste of words and time. Maybe it was decided that the "hard way" would be the best teacher.

It is sad when a person has no idea how untenable their words or  behavior really are. Perhaps their behavior has always been excused, laughed off, defended, branded as cute, or minimized. No one, whose words had weight, ever pulled them aside and said "Hey. Cut it out". They've gotten indifference, disgusted silence, or tolerance, but never loving truth. The words of anyone, who does dare to speak up, aren't received with thanks, but offense. They expect everyone they encounter to appreciate and embrace their antics as quirky or unique. When that doesn't happen, they don't understand; they're perplexed, devastated, hurt, and confused. Changing is never an option because they simply don't see anything out of order. They're just being their fabulous selves. Everyone else should know that. Any disappointment or loss they experience as a result of their own behavior is, in their eyes, always the fault of someone else.

We all have to conduct a regular, thorough self check--and be brutally honest about it. No. We don't have to be fake, or try to appease everyone, but self-evaluation is never a bad idea especially if there's a pattern of temporary in our lives. Truthful introspection may determine that it's not always them, and their patience shouldn't always have to be of the caliber of the prophet Job's in order to survive. 
The effort one exerts trying to change others would be better spent on one's own stuff. That's something that one can control. But if one sincerely moves through life with the opinion that one is more righteous than others, superior, entitled, and perfect, well... good luck in any long term endeavor that involves other human beings. 
Humility is a necessary thing; a wise and priceless thing, no matter who you think you are.

TUESDAY THOUGHTS: SEE SOMETHING...?

Okay. So...About yesterday afternoon. 

They said, "If you see something, say something". 

I saw something. 

So I reluctantly dialed 911. 

I began the narrative with, "Hello. It may be nothing, but...".

I just happened to be enjoying a late lunch in my favorite seat at the kitchen table, right next to the window. 

A black sedan, that had dark tinted windows, parked across the street. The way it just crept up and stopped, seemed odd. 

It sat there for 3 or 4 minutes, but no one emerged. 

I thought perhaps someone was lost, needed to make a call, or check directions. 

Maybe the occupants were talking. 

Maybe some kid was in the car, wasn't supposed to be, and asked to be let out away from his or her house.

Suddenly the passenger and driver doors flew open. The trunk popped open, too. 

Two tall guys jumped out, and began to hurriedly take off their clothes. It reminded me of some post- bank robbery scene in a movie. 

One donned a neon lime green hoodie. 

The other stripped to his bare chest, and exchanged his tee shirt and blue dress shirt for a gray pullover. They changed their shoes. 

They stopped every time a vehicle passed by. 

They threw stuff into the trunk, and in the back seat of the car. 

When they were dressed, they closed the doors and the trunk, left the car, and walked to an intersecting street. 

I thought they were going to the house on the corner, but they kept walking past the house, the backyard of which they'd parked alongside, and went into a yard about 3 doors down. 

I wondered, "If they were going down that street anyway, why not just drive? 

Did they not want someone to see them coming?" There were no cars on the street. 

They could have had their choice of parking spaces on either side. 

Why park on one street, then walk down another? 

They walked into a yard and stopped. 

They went to the door and opened the screen, then they left, and continued walking down the street. They seemed to be looking for something; loitering even. 

They were empty handed. 

There were no clipboards, door tags, pamphlets or fliers. 

One guy crossed the street, then rejoined the other guy. They continued walking out of sight. They never returned to their car.

I was watching the drama outside, missing The Steve Harvey Show, waiting to see a police vehicle drive by, and thinking all kinds of things. 

Were they athletes who decided to park, and walk or run in the neighborhood? 

Were they looking for someone? 

Waiting to ambush or hurt someone? 

Were they stalkers? 

Drug dealers? 

Thieves? 

Oh no! 

School kids would be passing by soon. 

Was one of them a disgruntled dad? 

Was the car stolen? 

Was it rigged to explode if someone got too close? Had they robbed a bank? 

(Yep. I've been watching way too much TV.)

Two police vehicles drove up. 

The officers came to the garage to talk, then left and canvassed the neighborhood. 

Several minutes later, one of the officers returned. 

I met him in the driveway. He was smiling. 

"Ma'am, it's okay. Just wanted to allay any fears. They work for Verizon. They're just making sure customers' service is working".

 

I laughed. I was half happy that my worries weren't founded, and half perplexed by the Verizon employees' behavior. 

Verizon? What? Get outta here! 

What was with all of the espionage moves? They've got to know that they can't conduct business like that. 

Stripping in the street? lololol...

Where was their nice white Verizon truck? 

Where was the Verizon signage? 

They probably have no idea how suspicious and shady they looked, which begs the question, what does "suspicious" look like? 

Is it possible to be perfectly innocent; carrying out perfectly legitimate business, yet inspire doubt or fear?

Those guys are going to have to change their MO, though, or concerned citizens will be dialing 911 to report them every day.
If they're going to use unmarked vehicles, some signage in the windows, or on the doors would be reassuring. Surely Verizon can afford some flags or magnets or stickers or something--

and employees may want to get dressed at home...lol

THE BEST CHOICE

I couldn't help remember one night, years ago, when my sisters and I were watching TV. Mommy heard us laughing at, and critiquing someone who was performing. She was annoyed with us, but she didn't yell or reprimand us. Her approach still caused us to reconsider our actions. In her quiet way, as she stood up and headed to the kitchen, she said, "Hmm. They're on TV. You all are sitting on the sofa in the living room". She never looked at us. She just dropped that bomb and kept walking. We shut up, and thought about that thing. The people on TV were trying. They were being brave. They were taking a chance at facing rejection and ridicule. Okay. Maybe they weren't good, but was our insensitivity unfair? Were we wrong for thinking that if it's on television for people to hear, Music should be...uh...well... good? Have we so embraced the visual that we no longer care about sound? Do we just excuse it, and give performances a pass simply because of a performer's history?
Putting oneself out there to be picked apart by people can be nerve wracking, but kudos to those who continue shining and sharing, in spite of their fear and the complaints of listening naysayers. 
 The posts on social media reminded me of that night years ago, except the performers we were dissing never heard our words, or experienced our disdain. Social media was relentless and cruel tonight. Maybe Madonna wasn't the best choice for the Prince tribute tonight, but for whatever reason, she was the choice. 

Bringing out the great Stevie Wonder may have been not only a genius move, but a great comfort. Nobody was going to throw any eggs, tomatoes, or shade at Stevie. He could have sung the telephone book and all would have been well. Perhaps it's because of the exceptional, stellar, incomparable caliber of musicianship. He is the proverbial iron that can only sharpen, and be sharpened by iron. His presence caused many to put down their remotes.

Someone tweeted that Madonna never "had the audience". Maybe not. I don't know what the temperature was at the venue. What she DID have, though, was weeks and weeks of knowing that she wasn't wanted, because people weren't the least bit shy about saying so. There was even a petition to have her replaced. That's some seriously passionate stuff right there. Knowing how much your presence and performance would offend could put a lump in anyone's throat-- to match the one already there because a dear friend had died. Maybe she was able to quash the noise; be encouraged by those who did want her. Still, the anxiety was audible and visible. It's a wonder she could stand up, let alone sing. I have to hand it to her. A lot of people would have simply bowed out. Perhaps because of relationship, she decided that no one was going to ruin the opportunity to publicly honor her friend in her own way.

I do wonder, sometimes, how decisions are made; why some people get the call to do certain things when there are, in my mind, much better, available, sensible choices. Is it money? Do some people bring drama and difficulty? Is it emotional? Is there bad blood or a poor working history? Is it laziness, spite, thoughtlessness, naivete, or cronyism? Is it a time or logistics issue? Is it simply business?

I'm the first to defend Art and a person's right to express themselves. I'm all for friends honoring friends. I just wonder why putting one's best foot forward is often hijacked by pettiness and politics; why mediocrity is preferred over excellence and expected to be consumed happily. Why aren't people who know better consulted? Why is popular opinion discounted? Why is wisdom, rational thought, and common sense ignored?

It doesn't matter who controls the narrative about what you experienced. You know what's great because you have history with greatness; you know the sound, sight, feel, and smell of it. Your senses can't be deceived. They respond. You know what misses the mark--even if your mother insisted that you be nice, and not say so.

Mommy was an English teacher, and words mattered. I checked Mr. Webster to see whether I'd missed something. According to the dictionary a tribute is "something that you say, give, or do to show respect or affection for someone; something that proves the good quality or effectiveness of something." 

Ummm. Okay.

RENEW YOUR MIND

Imagine finding out that someone you've known for ages really didn't think highly of you. They've been walking around with a skewed perception of you; they've been waiting for the reveal of the real you to justify the assessment playing in their heads. Their view of you was solely based on how they've navigated life, and, much to their dismay, you were smacking down their narrative like Dikembe Mutombo. 
Your victories, no matter how few, were aggravating. Surely you didn't play fairly or honestly. Surely you had a leg up (or a skirt down). Your niceness was bothersome, because of course, no one could possibly be as nice as you are. Your kindness offended them because they've never encountered anyone who didn't want something from them. Your pleasant interactions with others of the opposite sex always seemed inappropriate to them because they've never had a strictly platonic relationship. Your service to them was always met with suspicion because they've lamented for years that no one has ever done anything for them, and you're exposing that untruth. Your refusal to cosign everything they said and did was viewed as disrespect, because they tended to surround themselves with brown nosers and "Yes" men.

The sooner some people correct themselves, the sooner they can relax. They can stop hating on, criticizing, and accusing everything that moves, and have genuine, joyful, stress-free lives and relationships.

When you adjust how you think; when you commit to honesty with yourself, you'll see others differently. Perhaps you pegged a few folk correctly. When it comes to others, you may find you have been irrational and grossly unfair. It may be painful to admit that it wasn't them at all. It was you. Renew your mind. Realize how many opportunities you've missed; how many good times you've forfeited because of stubbornness, prejudice, ignorance, or because you adhered to lies or nonsense--but don't get stuck there. Dust your thinking cap off and do better. Don't allow your own mindset, misinformation, ignorance, or past indiscretions to cause you to misjudge, discount, or be unnecessarily suspicious of others. Just because you did, felt, or said it doesn't mean everyone will do, feel or say the same.

Stop merely existing and get to living. You've wasted enough time swimming in the wrongness in your own head. Don't be the biggest source of stress in your own life.

CAREGIVER DIARIES

So... I get it that guys don't want to feel emasculated at any age. They want to feel as if they're still in control; still viable and self-reliant. I'm here. Next month will be a year. He doesn't ever HAVE to, but numerous times Dad has picked up to the phone to reach out for assistance with one thing or another and, without fail first responses aren't "Yes", or "I'll see what I can do", or "Sure. I'll be right there", but, "Where is Vanessa?" 
Aaaaaah. That sarcastic, "Where is Vanessa" in all of its offended glory--it may as well be followed by, "Why are you bothering me?" Is "Where is Vanessa?" supposed to remind him of something like, he's reached his designated "one person per person" help quota? Is it a punishment they mete out because I AM here and they aren't exactly happy about it? "Where is Vanessa?" implies that I've said "No" to his request; that I won't, can't or have refused to help him. It implies he shouldn't ever ask anyone else to do anything for him, because whatever it is he hopes they'll do is my job. It's almost as if they're offended by his request. How dare he ask them to do anything if I'm here! What am I going to be doing while they're doing my job? Lollygagging? Goofing off? Wasting time? Sleeping? Perhaps helping him translates helping me, and God forbid they do that. I might get too fancy. I know. I'm being facetious. But I'm also serious. Being dependable and committed is a good thing. He's my Dad and I'm going to help him. 

How others perceive what you do doesn't matter. Just do a good job; do your best no matter what. Focus. Who's looking, critiquing, evaluating, rooting against, or for you isn't important. Who's waiting for you to quit or fail isn't either. Your presence is not an accident. God's got your back and he will anoint you; he will equip you with everything you need to carry out your tasks. He'll send help and it will come in the most mind-blowing way. He'll also let you know who to delete from your caller ID. Fair weather friends aren't friends at all. There are those who benefited greatly when bodies were able. They tend to disappear (and acquire amnesia) when the gravy train stops.
It's good to know who is, and isn't in your corner. You've got to know who the consistent folk are--and even they will not be able to come through all the time. Your trust in God has to increase with each new day. When you remember that God is your source--that you have ALWAYS depended on Him, and he prepares that table, (you know, THAT table) don't be surprised who's seated there grinning and expecting you to make them a plate. The same people who are adamant about not helping you get where you need to go, will be the first to claim a right to drive and ride in your vehicle.

Maybe you've made the mistake of confiding in the wrong people! Fix your face! Many delight in what they PERCEIVE to be your lack or suffering. Their response? Silence. Indifference. Arrogance. Ridicule. "I told you so." They vow not to help; just sit back and watch you figure it out--and are even a little disappointed when you do! They secretly hope and wait for you to fail. They gossip about why you don't have what they have; what you ought to be able to do; why your status, in their eyes, has changed. They hope you'll reach out so they can say, "No", but have a problem when God makes a way that doesn't involve them! You really have to change the tone of your tune! You ain't suffering! You're not out in the cold! Look around!
Help is present.

"I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken, or their children begging bread." ~Psalm 37:25
 

GOOD DEEDS

You say that you want to do something for someone. Perhaps it would be in order to first inquire what they'd like. Your signature fried fish dinner, no matter how tasty and beautiful it is, is painful, useless, and potentially deadly to someone whose vision is impaired and teeth are missing. Maybe you did sit for hours on a cold bank with a bucket, catch the fish with your bare hands, and transport them hundreds of miles through a derecho, drag your leaky cooler into their kitchen, clean, season and fry the fish and serve it at their table, but to a person who can't see the bones and has sore gums, your good intentions were self-centered and thoughtless. Don't be disappointed if profuse praise and thanks aren't exactly forthcoming. Not only can't the recipient enjoy the gift or appreciate your effort, but they have a smelly house and a greasy mess to clean up to remind them of your lack of thought. As long as you were going for odor and grease, a bouquet of flowers and a jar of Afro Sheen would have been a better choice.

Consider the gift you want to give, and why you think it's a good choice. Really think it through. It will reveal how much you really know about the recipient. It's nice to want to do something for someone, or give them a gift, but if they won't be able to benefit from it, should you be disappointed when they are less than enthusiastic about it?
Plowing in like a bull in a glass shop to do something for someone that they don't even want or need is never a good idea, no matter what your intentions are. Too often we fail to consider the limitations, likes, and tastes of others, and expect them to accept and be grateful for our good deeds. Maybe they don't even want what we want them to have. Why can't they have boundaries? Why can't they have a right to accept or reject stuff? What will make you feel better may not sit well with someone else.
Ask yourself if the gift is really about your good, warm, fuzzy feelings (or guilt) or the recipient's enjoyment. Will they be able to utilize it the way it was intended to be used, or will it be given to others for their enjoyment? Is it something they would have been happy about long ago, but are indifferent about now? Are you giving to be seen, or to be generous? Are you the only one who thinks it's a good idea? Are you forcing something on them because you like it and are puzzled, or offended that they don't feel the same way? Did they ever say they wanted it, or is it what you think is best for them? Will it involve the use of their resources in order for the gift to be experienced? Will they stare at it, pick it apart, or push it aside? Will they make up a polite excuse as to why it's just not a good fit? What will be done with the gift when you're gone? Will it be consumed or put in a prominent place, or promptly thrown away--followed by a sarcastic, "What were they thinking?"
Being a cheerful giver is admirable, but knowing the wants, wishes and preferences of the intended recipient really cuts down on waste--and hurt feelings.

CAREGIVER DIARIES

I can almost hear my late Auntee Marion saying, "Messy. Just messy."

I detest those who seek to take advantage of ANY vulnerable person, especially seasoned citizens. Now WHY would this woman phone out of the blue the other day, to ask a barrage of personal questions? On whose behalf is she asking? Exactly what does she plan to do with the information? Who is she sharing it with? I have a pretty good idea. I'm happy that my dad's discernment is still functioning and the call was cut short. Some people genuinely phone to see how he is. Others, unfortunately, are just plain nosy.

What some people need to learn AND remember, is that it is NEVER a good idea to align yourself with unscrupulous people who seek to use you in order to either gain access to others (so they can resume fleecing them). 

Here are a few tips just in case you have an issue with a conscientious caregiver, (or are being encouraged by a con (who, by his own actions, has lost access) to get inside information for him:

1. Attempting to annoy a person's caregiver, sowing seeds of discord, upsetting routines, schedules, or an ailing person's environment is proof you don't care about them at all.

2. There is a huge difference between being concerned and being an annoying busybody.

3. Be very careful who you take your marching orders from. It's not cool to run headlong into other people's business. You could trip and bump your head. 

4. Never take on another person's beef. Sometimes, being neutral is best. Even people you love, like and trust can have off days where their judgement is concerned. 

5. Weigh whether the information you're getting is true or not before you launch into a crusade to insert yourself into the affairs of others. You have to know that the side you've taken is the righteous one or you'll look like a fool...and lose whatever access and trust you may have enjoyed.

6. Never be so pressed to have a personal or business relationship with ANYONE that you conspire with shady people. They'll turn on you the first chance they get the minute you step out of line. 

7. If you are not going to commit to being the primary caregiver, consistently offering help, or making yourself available in meaningful ways, go sit down somewhere and shut up. Your pre-illness motives are showing.

8. If you are not a member of an ailing person's immediate family, you have no right to any information...at all...NONE...period...so kindly stop asking.

9. Badmouth or betray anyone and you may be forgiven, but fat chance of being allowed back into their circle.

10. Think.

Many seniors tend to be very trusting, don't mind answering questions--AND they still answer their home phones. Beware of those who phone to essentially interrogate the seniors in your life about matters that do not concern them, (and particularly to gain information like Social Security numbers, bank, or credit card numbers). I would say they're worse than telemarketers, but that would be an insult to telemarketers.
 

Caregivers, you have a lot on your plates, but keep your eyes and ears open, and don't be afraid to speak up. Never, ever, EVER apologize for protecting your loved ones. 

The enemy's greatest feat is convincing people that he doesn't exist, or is harmless and innocent. He has some human imps who are trying to do the same, but they're just not as subtle as their hellish mentor--they just think they are.

 #ISeeYou 

 #RunTellThat

TUESDAY THOUGHTS: MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME

People are certainly more important than things, but some people demonstrate that they have very little regard for the possessions of others. 

I will never understand how people can destroy a room in a matter of minutes. No. A place doesn't have to be sterilized like a laboratory, but there is nothing wrong with cleanliness. 

How is it that people feel it's okay to just drop and go? 

How does one just leave trash on a table or floor when there's a trashcan mere feet away? 

Whatever happened to "A place for everything, and everything in its place"?

My late mother always said, "Leave it like you found it." and "Treat what belongs to someone else as if it was your own." 

Those declarations came, of course, after extensive home training. 

It also implied that we were expected to take good care of our belongings--as if we wanted to keep them, and understood they didn't materialize out of thin air, but from the sacrifices, kindness, and generosity of others.

My sisters and I just couldn't do whatever we wanted to do in someone else's house. 

I remember the speech we would get before leaving home. From the second we crossed the threshold, we knew to be careful, considerate, respectful, and mindful that nothing on the premises belonged to us. If we were graciously allowed to enter, the least we could do was behave in a civilized manner. 

There was never an expectation or demand that the host had to adjust his or her ways to accommodate ours. 

There was no mess making, no rummaging through drawers or cabinets, no touching anything that didn't belong to us; no imposing our preferences; no failure to wash sticky hands; no feet on furniture; no glasses on tables without coasters; no complaining or pouting that our host didn't have what we wanted to eat or drink; no demanding that anyone do anything. If a mess was made, we had to clean it up--promptly. When it was time to clear dishes, we had to help. 

If we were playing a game, we had to help put it away. 

Whatever we used or moved had to be put back--not when we felt like it, but immediately.

One can do whatever one wants to in one's own space. One can be the biggest, nastiest, smelliest, clumsiest, greasiest, filthiest, sweatiest, hoarding spirit on the planet. 

In the space of another, one should be considerate--not offended because one can't have full reign in, or permission to trash another person's house. 

Most of the time, hosts are being polite by saying, "Make yourself at home." 

One shouldn't take that to mean it's okay to leave one's smelly shoes in their host's living room, or one's dirty underwear on the floor in front of the washing machine. 

One's host shouldn't have a good indication of everywhere one has been in the house, because he or she is constantly picking up or wiping down something. 

A trail of messes shouldn't be the way to successfully locate one's house guest.

"Make yourself at home" is not without exceptions--especially if you are an inconsiderate slob, AND if the person who extends the offer is NOT the person who does the cleaning. 

Offering to cook is a wonderful gesture, but not if no one in the house eats what you want to prepare except you, or you think cleaning up after yourself is beneath you. 

I remember how my mother used to clean as she cooked. She reasoned that, after the meal, there would be nothing to clean except the plates, glasses and utensils we used.

An arrogant, entitled spirit, however, sincerely believes that it can bulldoze it's way wherever it goes without being mindful of those around them. No one should have to ask if something is in the way of another person if they've already told you that it is. That's a facetious question emanating from a contrary, messy spirit, that still thinks it's at its own house. 

If something isn't where it belongs, if it attracts critters, if it smells, impedes egress, disturbs the peace, stains, drains, or annoys, it's a problem for your host. Don't do it! 

How you do things in your house is never a good argument or defense, when you're visiting someone else, no matter how superior or right you think your way may be. What you do at home is moot when you're not there.
You may adore the smell of Lutefisk and Limburger cheese. To you, they may be like roses and gardenias in Spring. Taking Lutefisk and Limburger cheese to someone's home (who doesn't like or eat it) because you like it, stinking up the joint, and leaving it carelessly wrapped in your host's refrigerator, is crossing the line. Who does that? 

People who ignore boundaries, that's who. 

People do what is allowed. 

When limits are enforced, only an individual with ulterior motives will cry foul.

 "Welcome" is not without boundaries, exceptions and limitations. 

Be respectful and considerate wherever you go. 

It's a good way to be happily welcomed back.

TUESDAY THOUGHTS: IT'S NOT THEM...

In the words of the great philosopher Tamar Braxton, "We are in the land of people who are consistently trying it...You gotta watch who you let in your house".

 

Everywhere you go, you take yourself and all of your habits, ideas, preferences, prejudices, opinions, likes, and dislikes with you. 

There is no law or rule that says anyone where you're going has to approve of, accept, or put up with them. It takes work to be a jerk. 

Being considerate is easy.

When, for whatever reason, you:

feel superior to others;

harbor unresolved issues; or

feel you don't have to respect or regard others, 

of course how your words and actions impact them won't matter to you, and you'll endeavor to make others uncomfortable and miserable in their own tranquil spaces. 

That kind of demon-inspired, entitled behavior can backfire, and cause you to be ignored, banned, or ostracized.

If you have decided that you're okay with, and proud of being curt, snippy, intrusive, destructively critical, sour, pushy, strife-loving, and disrespectful of boundaries, go on and "Do you". 

Don't ever be surprised, though, when even the most gracious and tolerant person justifiably pushes back, or, for the sake of their own sanity, keeps their distance.

Sometimes silence IS a response. 

It often perplexes, confuses, and angers. 

People who have never been thoroughly checked or corrected, demand to be acknowledged. 

Everything they do makes noise, and they can cop quite an attitude, especially when they don't know whether their loud, bothersome ways have successfully bothered you or not. 

(Someone consistently stomping overhead won't be happy to know that they've exerted all of that energy, but you weren't even in the building suffering the headache they wanted you to have.)

Silence screams what a person may be thinking, who is too nice, polite, or exhausted to actually say it. Sometimes, people choose silence because they know they don't have to tolerate a thing for long. They're just biding their time, and are preserving their blood pressure. 

Besides, there's no sense in wasting good words and breath, with someone who is so self-absorbed, that they won't hear you anyway. 

Silence, then, is very informative. 

Be clear--you don't necessarily WANT to know what someone has decided not to say, so don't push them. They may tell you, and then of course, you'll get the confrontation you've been hoping for--but you may not emerge with your feelings (or face) intact.

Be very, very careful how you treat others. 

Consider, if it matters, whether God is happy with what he sees. 

It's not always them. 

Sometimes, it's you. 

Examine yourself. 

Care. 

Perhaps someone is owed an apology. 
Don't ever try to excuse the drama you've consistently visited on others.

Even nice people have limits.

MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS

The irony is that Mothers' Day was only a week ago. 

I watched as the young lady was lured into a corner of the room by the older lady. At first, I didn't think anything of it. I thought, perhaps the old lady may have wanted to give the young lady a gift, or well wishes before she left the gathering. The young lady is kind and conscientious; talented, smart, and pleasant. The old lady is progressively proving to be messy, petty, and insecure. She was doing a poor job of whispering but a great job of sowing seeds of discord. The young lady said nothing, but it was clear that she was uncomfortable, yet trying to be respectful. The older lady's "advice" was motivated by her extreme disappointment over her own daughter's recent decision to relocate thousands of miles away from her. With a sly smile, she counseled the young lady to, among other things, limit the amount of time she spent with, and talked to her mother. I could hear her. All I could think about was Eve talking to the serpent in the Garden. I stood up. 
Why would a woman who has a daughter of her own, try to drive a wedge between another woman and her daughter? Fortunately, the young lady's mother walked in, discerned what was going on based on her own history with the old lady, and whisked her perplexed daughter away. The old lady didn't quite know what to do with herself. She stood there in the corner, wringing her hands, and not seeming to know which direction to look. Her scheme failed. She just stood there, defeated. 
The young lady and her mother had a frank discussion about what happened. Their closeness and trust in each other easily cancelled out what the older lady had tried to do. Any respect the young lady had for the old lady vanished in an instant, but because of her kind heart it was replaced by pity.

Some people are truly evil. You don't want to believe it, but it's unfortunately true.

My hope is that the old woman would examine herself, recognize how greedily and regularly she feeds on strife; see how it has poisoned her tone, infected her conversation, skewed her thinking, and marred her demeanor, posture, countenance, and relationships. She has become positively toxic--almost unbearable to be around. She wasn't always that way. I wonder what happened. I hope that one day she figures out the root of her frustration, insecurity, and hatred and stops justifying her conniving, imposing ways. She flippantly commented that she recognizes that she's "different" and has stopped caring about what people think of her. She was right about one thing. She has stopped caring. She has forgotten how to treat others. She bulldozes through life wanting love and respect, but receiving indifference. What she is, sadly, is deceived. Her icy, curt, snippy speech does little more than repel others (including her daughter) and force them to keep their guards firmly up, and locked. 
Maybe seeing the young lady interacting with her mother, smiling, laughing, and happy was too much. How tragic that she continues to talk and act her way into never experiencing what they have.

CHICAGO'S FINEST IN THE DMV

I knew where I would be this morning. I figured if I left at 10 or so, I'd get to the mall in time for the grand opening. I LOVE popcorn. I have every since I was a child. My uncle, one of Plaquemine , Louisiana's oldest residents, used to make the most delicious popcorn balls. He would make roasting pans full of popcorn. Sometimes he'd use sugar; other times he'd use pure cane syrup made by the Steen family in Abbeville. I didn't think anything could come close to his recipe. In my life, I've eaten a lot of popcorn. I like Detroit popcorn. State Street popcorn sold at Cracker Barrel is good too, but Garrett's is by far the best popcorn on Earth. I knew it could be shipped in those wonderful, signature tins, but for years I've hoped that someone would open a store in the Washington Metropolitan Area. I believe that the best of the nation should always be readily available in the nation's capital. Today, delighted customers in the DMV welcomed the 50th Garrett's store and the finest popcorn Illinois has to offer.
My niece was sweet enough to go with me to Fashion Center at Pentagon City. We went via Lyft, and entered the mall where lots of construction was taking place. We looked at the mall map, but didn't see Garrett's. We figured the best way to find the new store was to look for a very long line. When we looked down into the food court, it was clear where Garrett's was. We went down the escalator and happily joined the line. It was like joining a band of believers. Everyone was on one accord.
Shoppers walking through the food court stared at the long line, and then asked, "What is it? Are they giving something away? How long have you all been standing here? Either it's free, or it's just that good." The atmosphere was so lovely! Everyone's smiles and patience drew people. They wanted to know what we knew. Many of them joined the line-- that was the length of the food court-- based solely on the recommendations of those who waited. People from Chicago seemed happiest. They'd known for a long time what the rest of us found out about by virtue of flights in and out of O'hare. There was no pushing or shoving; no line jumpers, just hundreds of very happy people united by their love of popcorn. Strangers held conversations and swapped stories. 
It was a lovely morning--and the popcorn was worth the wait.

JEWEL

Out of the ashes of long-wasted years

Out of the salt mines of leftover tears

Out of the battle with doubts and old fears

Came a jewel

A jewel

Shine in the light that no one can destroy

No need to hide,

Go on, lift up your eyes

Shine and reveal your unspeakable joy

You’re a jewel

A jewel

Light of the world; salt of the earth

Think of the miracle that was your birth

God has great plans for you

So much for your hands to do

You’re a jewel

A jewel

Grace under pressure, now just look at you!

No scars or signs of the trials you’ve been through

Strong and resilient

And sparkling like new

You’re a jewel

A jewel

God says you’re above; you’re never beneath

Fearfully made; oh so loved

Don’t you see?

I’ll keep on singing it ‘til you believe

You’re a jewel

Shine

Shake off the dust and see the glory

Shine

Be bold, be brave, and share your story

Shine

Encourage them; encourage me

You’re a jewel




vrw c2016 

ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT

Some people come with drama, and always have. It makes you keep your guard up because you know something will jump off at any minute. It's hard to be comfortable around nosy, provocative, pushy people who don't respect boundaries, and being in close quarters isn't exactly something to which you look forward, but you suck it up. Your childhood narrative says "Be nice, gracious and polite", but it's hard. You want to say something, but nothing that comes to mind would pass the "ladylike" test.

I could feel my stomach tighten. My first thought was to make myself scarce. Not dealing at all--totally ignoring things and people--that's always an option. Save yourself! Just don't engage! History dictates that there will be fires to put out. History doesn't have to repeat itself, though. It only does when we don't change our responses to the actions and words of others. Allow people to annoy, intimidate, and bully you, and they will. Our responses don't ever have to involve stressing ourselves by accepting, as normal, the disturbance of our peace.
We really do give our power away too much and too often to people who only seem important, menacing, or antagonistic. If we'd stick around long enough, we'd see that they act from places of weakness, immaturity, jealousy, or insecurity. 
Take your power back--today. They expect you to run and shrink and hide because that's what you've always done. The day you look them, or it in the face and speak up, you'll be amazed how dynamics change. Don't be surprised if you laugh out loud. You're a lot stronger than you think, and you always have a choice. Everything does not have to affect you. Shake it off.
 
Your problems, issues, and annoyances are valid and shouldn't be trivialized, but there will always be something that arrests you AND your thoughts and feelings. When you find out what's on the plate of someone else, suddenly, your plate looks like a gourmet meal. The revelation of the gravity of the problems in the lives of others, has the power to stop you in your tracks. There you were, on your way to feeling anxious, disgusted, exhausted, overwhelmed, becoming fearful, losing hope, making hasty decisions, and making snow-capped mountains out of molehills. Then you stop, turn around, and immediately reevaluate just how serious your stuff really is. You may have initially perceived it to be a pain in the neck, but that was before you had a virtual decapitation to which you could compare it. It may have seemed inconvenient, but you realize, you've got lots of time, and whatever it is will be gone before you know it. You get grateful in a hurry. You felt tears; your heart was racing a bit; you did say, "Oh, hell no!", but all of that changes in a matter of seconds when you become aware of what you're not dealing with, and what is plaguing others. You tell yourself: "I've got this. I thought it was something, but this is nothing. Compared to what's going on with them, this is a piece of cake." 
Your attitude adjusts quickly. Your power is back where it belongs. Your eyes open a bit wider. You rethink your responses.
You learn from, and are empowered by the lives of others. Their circumstances sure have a way of altering how you perceive yours. That big deal really isn't as big as you thought. Yeah. It's still there, but it's manageable--extremely manageable--with one hand.

MOTHERS' DAY

I thought about how Pastor Sturdivant doted on his mom at church yesterday. 

"She's moving! Somebody ought to be taking pictures!" 

Just the fact that she was walking was a big deal to him. Her presence was everything to him. It was inspiring. 

That tiny lady had saved his life. She's his hero. 

You couldn't help but feel the love and admiration--and wish your own mom was there, too. 

Faith United showed love, and gave roses and a gift to every woman present, but it was clear that Mrs. Sturdivant was beloved, not just to her family, but the entire congregation.

It was lovely to greet her. When she took my hand, I searched her face. Her complexion, salt and pepper hair, glasses, and sweet smile reminded me of Mommy. 

I imagined that my Mom would have been very much like her, a bit fragile, but exuding strength, wisdom and grace; elegantly and neatly dressed, gracious, and smiling; enjoying the way everyone looked out for her; seeing no need for the fuss everyone was making, but humbled by it and appreciative of it just the same. 

Mothers' Day was easier this year. There was no heaviness, except for thoughts of friends and loved ones who, for the first time, made no calls, no visits, bought no cards or gifts, and made no reservations. They’d made no plans, except to purchase flowers to lay on a fresh grave. For them, my heart was sad.

I still miss my Mom, but yesterday was different. I can't explain it. Maybe I'm different. Maybe that resilient, determined part of my mom is finally standing up in me.

My daughter made my weekend special. Any time spent with her makes me smile.  

From the beautiful luncheon at the Ritz with the Women of Zion Church, to her family's cookout (just sitting in the yard among the beautiful flowers her cousin Pam so lovingly attends to, was so peaceful), to her surprising me at church, it was a great weekend. 

Mommy would have loved it.