I'm amazed at how some changes have come about, and I like these things: Both my son, Phil, and my daughter, Liz, have accepted positions to teach college courses. And get this: BOTH of my kids are moving locally! BOTH of my kids are bringing grandchildren to live NEARBY! wow.
When my son, Phil, was pretty young, he couldn't wait to leave home to be a teen missionary. We made him wait until he was 14 - and he got to travel every summer away from home. For college he moved, and even though I saw him often, he never lived "at home," after high school. When he finished college, he went to a city about 2 1/2 hours away to work, be near friends, and where he eventually found a wonderful wife. Who would have guessed he would take a position at my own alma mater, BSU? That's pretty amazing!
In Phil's pursuit of a job for his wife, he came across a teaching job in the smaller, next-door-neighbor city of Anderson. My daughter, Liz, just completed her MFA in Creative Writing at the University of New Hampshire. She had a baby, "Chuck," while she and husband, Ben, lived out there, and they told me that "someday, before Chuck goes to school," they wanted to move back to the midwest. Because of the opening that Phil discovered, Liz applied, interviewed, and got THAT job.
That move bumped Phil up a notch on the mythical "favorite child list," and he's now riding his normal wave of familial popularity (because we all love Phil!). Within three weeks, Liz heard of the position, procured it, has moved back to Indiana, and although her husband has to stay back in NH for a while, she is living in my basement with toddler "Chuck." She has again become a Hoosier and is writing (like she always does) about all the adventures of her life "back home."
I recognize that these big changes are HUGE in the lives of my kids. Neither family is able to make the move all together yet, with selling of houses, jobs, and insurance demands on the "take care of this first" list. Being temporarily separated, leaving friends, churches, and replacing homes are things to tackle as they can, but I'm one happy mama! Having ALL five grandkids growing up in the same county - that's so cool! I've even brought up the fact that with all of my grown children gainfully employed, I have less of a chance to be put out on the street (any time soon). I just think it's great. Very, very great.
Welcome home, Boltzes.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
Phillip Hinkle, Wayne Co., IN representative
Representative Phillip Hinkle from Wayne County, Indiana, has just been "outed" in the Indianapolis Star, when he contacted a young man for sex.
The article carries communication reports that involve Hinkle's wife, and I'm so sad for her. If she is finding this information for the first time, it will be devastating to her life, her family, and her emotions. I'm so sorry for her.
When will people live truthfully? Why do gay men continue to hurt their wives in this way? And for Hinkle to contact and pay for sex?...Well, there is no excuse for a married man to behave like this. And to make it all worse, this state representative has voted to deny rights of marriage for gay people, while he secretly took advantage of HIS needs.
I don't want to hear that this guy is straight and has "strayed." No, he's gay, he's married to a woman, he's voted against glbt people's rights, and he's hurt everyone involved.
The article carries communication reports that involve Hinkle's wife, and I'm so sad for her. If she is finding this information for the first time, it will be devastating to her life, her family, and her emotions. I'm so sorry for her.
When will people live truthfully? Why do gay men continue to hurt their wives in this way? And for Hinkle to contact and pay for sex?...Well, there is no excuse for a married man to behave like this. And to make it all worse, this state representative has voted to deny rights of marriage for gay people, while he secretly took advantage of HIS needs.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Dad
All my life, my dad has been a strong man. His career as a city fireman took him away from home for 24-hour shifts, and he worked long hours with his business as a heavy equipment operator. Our home required the normal upkeep, plus we had a barn with horses, some beef cows (sometimes), and a big yard and a summer garden. Granted, Dad always made sure that my brothers and I helped (mostly the brothers) outside, and Mom and my sister and I helped with "inside work" and summer canning. (More stories later on how much we hated it then but wish we could do it all again with Mom.) Always on his mind was that he had all of us, plus my two half-sisters, who depended on him.
Now Dad, who ran a strict household (understatement), is 90 years old. He's a good dad, like always. His time and his life was for work, but that work meant that we were cared for. Mom was always the affectionate one, the sympathetic ear when we needed it. But Dad made sure we all knew how to work, support ourselves, and live right in the real world. His caring was shown in ways that meant discipline, rules, and responsibility.
In 1996, my parents were getting ready to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. I was planning a celebration that spring at their church, and the house next door came up for sale. Mom, who had been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, was lonely and the 5-bedroom house was becoming more and more difficult for her to maintain. When Ray came home from a weekend of concerts, heard from me that the house next door was for sale, he immediately said, "Would your parents consider living there?"
We didn't even stop on the way from the airport, but went to Mom and Dad's big brick house to ask them! Mom immediately said an enthusiastic "YES!", and Dad's eyes teared up with relief. Within two months, we had purchased the house, Dad orchestrated the move, and Mom and Dad moved in next door.
Over the years I've been privileged to have my parents close to me. Mom passed away almost 10 years ago today. Dad and I have sat together so many times since then, and I've gotten to know my dad better than I ever would have in any other setting. The things Dad has helped me with is HUGE, and too numerous to list. We've discussed finances, religion, politics, and family, and many times we don't share the same views. But sitting with my dad is a gift.
In January of this year, Dad turned 90 years old. He's spent the winters since the '80s in Texas, and I'm still having a hard time convincing him that he has to change that tradition. You see, Dad has to use a walker now, and he's been approved for a scooter by the Veterans, to replace the one that my brother, Lee, bought him a few years back. Dad has a beautiful, shiny GMC truck, as well as a 1992 Lincoln, but he's decided to put up his keys and use the Lifestream bus to get himself to and from the senior citizen lunches each day. He still cooks for himself, most of the time, but I share when I cook something. Dad looks forward to the neighbor who brings in his newspaper and mail, and he's disappointed if the neighbor goes away for a trip and the paper has to wait until I come home from work. It's all different than when I was a kid...and now I look out for Dad.
Today Dad has a list of errands, and I'm heading to do them with him. WalMart, Lowe's, the Post Office, and a few more. I'm going to be tied up for a few hours with some Dad-time.
Now Dad, who ran a strict household (understatement), is 90 years old. He's a good dad, like always. His time and his life was for work, but that work meant that we were cared for. Mom was always the affectionate one, the sympathetic ear when we needed it. But Dad made sure we all knew how to work, support ourselves, and live right in the real world. His caring was shown in ways that meant discipline, rules, and responsibility.
In 1996, my parents were getting ready to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. I was planning a celebration that spring at their church, and the house next door came up for sale. Mom, who had been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, was lonely and the 5-bedroom house was becoming more and more difficult for her to maintain. When Ray came home from a weekend of concerts, heard from me that the house next door was for sale, he immediately said, "Would your parents consider living there?"
We didn't even stop on the way from the airport, but went to Mom and Dad's big brick house to ask them! Mom immediately said an enthusiastic "YES!", and Dad's eyes teared up with relief. Within two months, we had purchased the house, Dad orchestrated the move, and Mom and Dad moved in next door.
Over the years I've been privileged to have my parents close to me. Mom passed away almost 10 years ago today. Dad and I have sat together so many times since then, and I've gotten to know my dad better than I ever would have in any other setting. The things Dad has helped me with is HUGE, and too numerous to list. We've discussed finances, religion, politics, and family, and many times we don't share the same views. But sitting with my dad is a gift.
In January of this year, Dad turned 90 years old. He's spent the winters since the '80s in Texas, and I'm still having a hard time convincing him that he has to change that tradition. You see, Dad has to use a walker now, and he's been approved for a scooter by the Veterans, to replace the one that my brother, Lee, bought him a few years back. Dad has a beautiful, shiny GMC truck, as well as a 1992 Lincoln, but he's decided to put up his keys and use the Lifestream bus to get himself to and from the senior citizen lunches each day. He still cooks for himself, most of the time, but I share when I cook something. Dad looks forward to the neighbor who brings in his newspaper and mail, and he's disappointed if the neighbor goes away for a trip and the paper has to wait until I come home from work. It's all different than when I was a kid...and now I look out for Dad.
Today Dad has a list of errands, and I'm heading to do them with him. WalMart, Lowe's, the Post Office, and a few more. I'm going to be tied up for a few hours with some Dad-time.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Bring on the Light
Yes, Easter is this coming Sunday. The celebration to commemorate the death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. The day when Roman Catholic and Protestant churches celebrate with other believers the most significant day of the church calendar. "Christ is risen!" and "Christ is risen, indeed."
I celebrate that day. As a believer, still, I am glad for a time to include the symbols of new life and sing Alleluia, as well as make carrot cake and watch kids hunt for eggs. I take seriously the gift of Communion, and I feel grateful for the forgiveness of sin. I'm a Christian, and I believe in celebrating this day.
Jesus himself taught his disciples to love God and love others:
37 Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.”
Ray continually sang of that change.
Because of Easter and the fact that Ray's music often is highlighted for church celebrations (i.e. "Watch the Lamb" and others) that I've seen an increase in the hits of this blog. (Heavens to betsy, I hardly even write any more!) as well as long e-mails trying to set me on the right path. Some question if I remain a Christian. No problem. I understand that I've made myself public and fairly transparent, and for that reason, people can easily contact me and say what they will. Anyone can ask what they will. All of that is fine with me, and I don't harbor ill feelings toward others. It's just that they don't see the light from my window.
From the place where God put me, I changed my heart (emotions) as well as my mind (thoughts), and I believe that God brought me to the point where I am. God always knows the outcomes of lives, and I know that I have trusted God since I was very young. When Ray "came out" to us (me and our four grown kids), I was a fundamentalist Christian, even if I was not the most conservative one. Since that time I have changed - really, really changed. There is still a lot to sort, and I still have many, many questions.
But I do have my own window, and I do know what I know. If anything has made me see the light of Christ more fully, it's the fact that I had to be more inclusive in how I see God/Jesus, the Light of the World, and upon whom that Light is shining. And I believe it shines on us ALL.
Happy Easter.
I celebrate that day. As a believer, still, I am glad for a time to include the symbols of new life and sing Alleluia, as well as make carrot cake and watch kids hunt for eggs. I take seriously the gift of Communion, and I feel grateful for the forgiveness of sin. I'm a Christian, and I believe in celebrating this day.
My former husband, Ray, wrote extensively about transformation, which is symbolized wonderfully in his songs. Our hearts are to be made into the likeness of Christ where Paul wrote:Romans 12:2 "be transformed by the renewing of your minds",
Jesus himself taught his disciples to love God and love others:
37 Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.”
Ray continually sang of that change.
Because of Easter and the fact that Ray's music often is highlighted for church celebrations (i.e. "Watch the Lamb" and others) that I've seen an increase in the hits of this blog. (Heavens to betsy, I hardly even write any more!) as well as long e-mails trying to set me on the right path. Some question if I remain a Christian. No problem. I understand that I've made myself public and fairly transparent, and for that reason, people can easily contact me and say what they will. Anyone can ask what they will. All of that is fine with me, and I don't harbor ill feelings toward others. It's just that they don't see the light from my window.
From the place where God put me, I changed my heart (emotions) as well as my mind (thoughts), and I believe that God brought me to the point where I am. God always knows the outcomes of lives, and I know that I have trusted God since I was very young. When Ray "came out" to us (me and our four grown kids), I was a fundamentalist Christian, even if I was not the most conservative one. Since that time I have changed - really, really changed. There is still a lot to sort, and I still have many, many questions.
But I do have my own window, and I do know what I know. If anything has made me see the light of Christ more fully, it's the fact that I had to be more inclusive in how I see God/Jesus, the Light of the World, and upon whom that Light is shining. And I believe it shines on us ALL.
Happy Easter.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Slipper mornings.
I have this non-routine routine when I'm off work, like today. I get up at the normal time (crack of pre-dawn) and try to sleep late. Thinking of the dog and how he needs to go out, I finally rouse myself and head downstairs. I think of my dad and how I should go over early to visit him, but first I'll just check my e-mail, facebook, blog comments (if there are any), etc. It is more like me (so I say) to get dressed first, but since the dog needs to go out, I stay in my jammies. I think, "I won't put on slippers, so that will make me go back upstairs because my feet will be cold if I get on the computer too long..."
So, here I sit. It's been over 90 minutes, and yes, my feet are FREEZING. But the dog got out. I have yet to see my dad (next door) and I've sent out an e-mail to organize meals for a family with a new baby. I've written short replies to e-mails (nothing of much substance) and I'm getting ready to meet a dear friend, Kassie, and her partner, Joni, for lunch at the Indian restaurant, Sitara (of Muncie).
I say this is not routine, but I do it when I don't go to work. I better learn to just put on my slippers.
So, here I sit. It's been over 90 minutes, and yes, my feet are FREEZING. But the dog got out. I have yet to see my dad (next door) and I've sent out an e-mail to organize meals for a family with a new baby. I've written short replies to e-mails (nothing of much substance) and I'm getting ready to meet a dear friend, Kassie, and her partner, Joni, for lunch at the Indian restaurant, Sitara (of Muncie).
I say this is not routine, but I do it when I don't go to work. I better learn to just put on my slippers.
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