Saturday, July 28, 2012

"I'm lost. I could use a little help"



“I’m lost. I could use a little help”. I half-smiled as I heard these words from an older gentleman the other day. As I was out perfectly manicuring (ok mowing) our yard I noticed a slow moving car on our street. The gentleman was obviously unsure of where he was and pulled up close to the curb. He motioned for me to cut the engine and because I was always a very good and smart young girl and listened to my mother, I didn’t go UP TO the car, lest I be carried away for good. Anyway, the gentleman had his window down and was looking at a piece of paper. He yelled out to me, “I’m lost. I could use a little help!” He was an older gentleman with a proper southern drawl, driving a dealership car as he was going to pick someone up. He didn’t want to be late.


What struck me about his approach was that he didn’t come to me saying “I’m so sorry to bother you…” or “Could you please help me….,” Or “If it isn’t too much trouble”. He stated two facts: “I’m lost” and “I could use a little help”. He didn’t apologize for interrupting (There was NO need for him to) and he didn’t apologize for being lost. He didn’t excuse himself and he wasn’t embarrassed that he needed help. He simply stated the two facts, that he was lost and he needed help. Why did this strike me as beautifully odd? Because how many of us can do that, honestly? Without beginning with excuses, explanations, apologies, or embarrassment, how many of us can simply say that we are lost and we could use some help? With anything? I loved how this gentleman simply expected that I would give him the direction to get where he needed to be (and I DID, thank you very much).


I’m lost. I think there comes a time when we all feel lost and we don’t really want to use our GPS’s or maybe the road we’re on isn’t even anywhere in the GPS’s system (my own street isn’t on mine! Glad I know where I live!) We hesitate to ask for help. We hem and haw when we need a little guidance, assurance, or even just someone to talk to. Why can’t we be more bold and simply state the facts, “I’m lost. I could use a little help”.


Last spring I thought I was having little mini-seizures because of something I had been through before. I saw my neurologist and he told me I was having anxiety attacks. WHAT?!?! ME?!?!? ANXIETY?!?!? He was amazing and told me that I do what so many other single moms do; but asked who takes care of me? Who do I talk to? I left with my head swirling. Me? Need someone? I knew something had to change because I have two young people who come first in my life and I have to be my best for them. I remember getting home that afternoon and calling a dear, close friend and saying “I need to talk. Can you come over?” She simply replied “I wondered when you were going to ask”.


 See, we really aren’t fooling anyone when we are lost anyway. I know I get that look on my face even when I’m in Wal-Mart; the “Where in the world am I?!” look because of the stimulation overload. When we are going through something in our lives and we do feel lost, those around us aren’t fooled. They know. Most people who really love us may ask once or twice, but if some of you are like me and used to doing so much on your own, you don’t want to appear weak and let others know you have it all under control. I assure you it takes strength to admit you need help. I have learned that the hard way. I would never have told this gentleman he was weak for asking for directions. Why do we tell ourselves that? 


So here is a challenge, when you are truly feeling lost and lonely, or afraid; or when you simply need help with something, keep it very simple. Call someone you know will listen and simply say, “I’m lost. I could use a little help”. I sincerely feel we’ll all be better off if we take the time to do this; lessening our burdens, shortening our pain, and, like this gentleman, getting back on the right road just in time to pick someone else up.

Becky W.
July 28, 2012

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Mothers and Sons



So I recently wrote about mothers and daughters promising to write about relationships between mothers and sons soon. Here I go! Truthfully, I can only write about my own relationship, as you know, because I am the mother and I have a son.  I was raised in a house full of girls. I had two sisters and after our father passed away, it was just our mom and us three girls. Lots of “girl”. Then, mom remarried and I got…another sister.



When I was expecting my first child, I just knew it was going to be a girl. When Liam arrived I remember thinking “What do I do with a boy?” It wasn’t long before he taught me things, lots of things.  Once when Liam was about four years old, he and his dad were wrestling around on the floor. His dad said, “You’re my little buddy!” and Liam said “You’re MY buddy!” I piped up and asked “Am I your buddy, too, Liam?” to which he sat up, looked at me and said “No”. My heart sank. Then he followed up with, “You’re my sweetie”.  I melted. He already saw me differently.



My kids have a great dad who does amazing things with them. But there is something different about moms and sons, really. Sons will push the envelope with their mothers, knowing exactly where that line is between being goofy and having fun without being disrespectful. Sons, at least mine, will continually measure their height against their mom’s and let everyone know the day they are taller. They will go for a 3-mile run and come in the door drenched with sweat saying things like, “Mom, we really don’t hug enough!” throwing those sweaty arms around us, at least trying to as we try to get away.  They will share things with moms that I’m not so sure they share with anyone else. Sons feel a need to be protective. I haven’t really understood this unless it’s that “manly instinct” in them. After my kids’ father and I divorced, my son seemed to take on this protective role. I have let him know in many ways that his job is to be a kid, I can take care of myself, but there is truly an instinct to make sure his sister and I are ok. I get that, but I do have to remind him that I’m still the mom J.  Challenge this protective, all-knowing , tough-guy instinct in a son and you may be met with a tad of a passive-aggressive attitude, at least for a few minutes because, at least here, things pass rather quickly. We all need each other too much to let anything fester long. Sons can pick on their sisters, but woe be unto anyone else who does! It’s fun to see that bond between them, too.



I have learned that when keeping an open forum for discussion, sons (and daughters) will talk to us about most anything. Recently Liam came home from a mission trip and was bubbling over with excitement as he told me of events from the week. This spilled over into the evening and other events going on in his life, most of which we had talked about already, but you never, ever interrupt a child when they are telling you about things in their life! Still in deep conversation in the kitchen, close to midnight I looked at Liam and said “Son, it’s really late and we all need sleep. I Love you! See you in the morning!”” And he said “Mom, please, this is fun, let’s keep talking”. What’s a mom to do? Well, she is to prop up on the kitchen counter and listen. These days won’t last forever, for I realize there will be others he will choose to talk to someday. For now, I relish the chats, the laughs, the practical jokes (did I mention he once taped all of my white board markers at school closed with clear tape and I didn’t catch it until I was teaching that day? And he “sticky-tacked” everything down to my desk?? Including my coffee cup?!?)  I’ll appreciate his machismo and him learning where he fits into this world. I’ll feel my heart swell with pride as I watch him, without thinking twice, give his testimony about his life in Christ. And I will thank God for this chance to raise a good man. And… I will be ever watchful for the next practical joke which I’m sure is already set up…somewhere.



Becky Wilkenson

July 17, 2012


Monday, July 16, 2012

Picks, a Pig, and a Thousand Fireflies

                                                                                                     

I am always amazed at what brings people together, but even more in awe of what keeps them together. It’s easy to begin a tradition with the promise of fun, but attending my 3rd Hay Holler Pick this year really touched my soul and opened my eyes to what keeps things going for those who truly hold dear what is important in our short stay on this earth.

When you first arrive at Mr. Kerry and Ms. Sula’s beautiful country homestead I swear your blood pressure drops 20 pts. at, not just the beauty of their home, yard, flowers and garden, but also at the majestic mountains that seem to have been placed there just for their own personal viewing and protection from the rest of the world. You won’t hear any noise really, except the occasional car winding down the road or the gravel from another car pulling up. But as you draw near the house the distinct sounds of laughter, porch swing chains, pots and pans from the kitchen, and oh yeah, MUSIC livens up the sleepy mountains.

As I mentioned this was my 3rd pick to attend (for the record, it was the 34th annual for them!) and unfortunately my kids didn’t come this time; they were having their own fun in FL watching Blue Angels fly around. I never felt alone, however, it’s impossible. Everyone who attends Hay Holler knows everyone and if they don’t when they get there, there’s a really good chance they will when they leave. I remembered a lot of faces and I was remembered as “Becky, Susan’s friend from Alabama”. I wear that title with great pride! There were times I would walk around and just absorb all the “goings on” around the place; all the “remember whens” I heard, how many times I heard all the younger cousins say how much they missed Brice (it was his first miss in 17 years). I asked Harper Grace, my new 8 yr. old friend to take my camera and just go around taking pictures. The world needs more fresh eyes I think and more kids need cameras (Her mom says she has one J). She really captured the personality of the pick (see my Facebook page if you haven’t already). Walking around I soaked in the incredible music; the mandolin, fiddle, bass, guitars, banjos and everything else you can imagine.  I listened to the guys harmonize the most beautiful (and funny) songs and have the time of their lives with it! Even as the thunder and lightning rolled in, they played…. As night fell, they played. And the kids caught a thousand fireflies.

I watched as my soul was truly at peace being surrounded by the kindest souls I have met. I wish everyone could stop and realize this is what life is really about. It’s about amazingly great bar-b-q, sweet music, friends who offer a place for you to lay your head at night the next time you’re in town. Life is about taking random pictures with your camera and your heart. It’s about making new friends and reacquainting yourself with old ones. It’s about sitting in a porch swing with someone you don’t know and a couple of hours later, knowing you could trust them with your secrets. Life is about learning a new tail-gating game (in the rain) and being really bad at it but laughing your way through it. It’s about “Let me freshen your beverage”, “Can I get you anything?”, “What can I do to help?”, “How’s your crew doing?” and “Look! I caught a thousand fireflies!” 

So to Susan, my soul sister and her entire family, sisters, brother, nieces, Mr. Kerry and Ms. Sula… thank you for sharing the weekend with me and with sooo many others. I don’t think you realize how much it means. To all of those there, it was an honor to spend time with you… I have pictures with which to blackmail you now, ha! My love to all of you. To those of you who read this, my prayer for you is that you truly take time to slow down with folks you know and don’t know but want to, sit on the swing, talk a bit, listen to some music, look around you… and maybe catch some fireflies.

Becky Wilkenson
**If you aren't on FB and want to see the pix, here is the link

 
July 16, 2012




Sunday, July 1, 2012

Mothers and Daughters


The Extra Penny
Mothers and Daughters
 

Let me apologize in advance for any offense I may cause here. No, I take that back. I’m not apologizing, I do that too much and I’m tired of that. Let me say instead that I hope you’ll see some humor in what I’m about to say and perhaps begin your own letters of apology to your mom, that is, if you are a daughter.


I am a cool person. At least I always thought I was. Not cool with my peers as much as with the kids I teach and work with. That was until my own kids began to realize that I am, well, not. My son still thinks I’m semi-cool. He’ll hang out with me, joke with me, we have a banter that is fun and respectful. My daughter, while I have a great relationship with her, looks at me like she’s sniffing onions. Why is that??


While I was loading up the kids and dogs and other goodies to leave my mom’s the other day, I turned to my mom and said “She doesn’t like me”. Mom replied “What?” I said, “My own daughter, she doesn’t like me.” My mom in her infinite wisdom said, “Honey, she’s eleven, she’s not supposed to like you, but she loves you. That’s more important.” I fought back tears because I know that’s absolutely true. I hugged my precious momma and said “I’m going home to start my apology letters to you right now!” and we laughed.


There is something strange and beautiful about a mother/daughter relationship. No one can love you and build you up and yet no one can hurt your heart like your daughter.  I don’t know why there is such a difference raising girls and boys, at least for me there is. I didn’t try to make it this way and I don’t read books that make it this way, it just is.  And I realize that it’s ok. Because I look back at how wise my mother became and I know that one day I’ll become very wise to my daughter. I know that one day I’ll actually know what I’m talking about. I’ll be funny and silly and it’ll be ok again. For now, when I goof off and sing karaoke into the wooden kitchen spoon or dance in my uncoordinated white woman way, my daughter gives me the eye roll; my son laughs and will sometimes join in.  I know one day she will see what all has been done for her best interest. Right now, she can’t and that’s ok, she is discovering herself and it’s beautiful to see, she needs to do that. It’s funny, I admire her more than she realizes and wish I had been as confident when I was her age. She totally rocks!


My own mom stands about 5’3” and weighs less than a mailbox and is one of the strongest, most beautiful women that ever walked the earth. I tower over her and yet, I strive to be half of what she is. My heart breaks when I think of how much I broke her heart. But my mom had a mom, so I think she knows. And one day, I hope my daughter knows how much I love her and this strange relationship we have has been stronger than the eye roll and onion sniff. Please don’t get me wrong, my daughter has never given me a minute of trouble, she wouldn’t! She is a true joy to all who know her! Seriously!  I just know that there is something about mothers and daughters that make the relationship rocky, strange, hard, but irreplaceable. There is something about “I’ll never be like you!” to “I wish I was more like you!” to “How will I ever make it a minute without you?!” There is something about the bond there. We want them to be better, more, stronger… maybe that’s it.


To my mother, my hero,  I want to be you when I grow up. To my daughter, like it or not, you will be like me when you grow up. To God, thank you for both of them… from the bottom of my heart, my kids, my family… they sustain me.

I will definitely write on the mother/son bond because it is definitely amazing and a different story entirely.


Blessings to all, and to my kids… you have my heart entirely.

Becky

July 1, 2012

2020 - Not All Hindsight

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