My View

The view from my back porch

A Mother's Pride and Predjudice

My daughter is a college freshman, and in many ways she is typical of the thousands of other college students around the world. She has had to make the giant adjustment to life away from home and the demands of academics. She has had to choose between studying for an exam or playing beer-pong with friends, sleeping a little longer or making it to an eight o'clock physics class. My only hope was that she would strike the right balance.
She has known for many years what she wants to do, and to that end earned her pilot's license at 17. In the following year, she added instrument, multi-engine, and seaplane ratings. Commercial, CFI and CFII additions to her license are in the works. In the few days before her first college classes began, she attended orientation sessions for AFROTC. I was sure she would decide that the physical and disciplinary requirements of ROTC were not for her. After all, this was a girl who would sleep through alarm clocks, never made her bed, and always procrastinated. To my surprise, she stuck with it. Throughout football season, I would watch with pride her appearance on the field for the National Anthem, standing at attention holding a flag. She looks sharp in uniform. Two weeks ago, she called to announce that she was being awarded a scholarship by the United States Air Force. After the initial "that is so great!", the realization of the flip-side sank in. Instead of having until the spring of her sophomore year to decide on a military committment, that moment had arrived. My heart and my head began to wage war in the pit of my stomach. I believe in military service, and in fact believe it should be mandatory. But this is my baby girl, my only child. The thought of her in harm's way terrifies me.
Yesterday, I signed the scholarship documents and watched as she signed and initialed mounds of other documents - her enlistment papers. I thought it was odd that she is too young to sign for the scholarship, but old enought to commit to eight years of military service. She changed into uniform and the Colonel entered the conference room. She stood at attention in front of the flags, raised her right hand, and took her oath. In that moment, my head and heart got together and both swelled with pride. She is so sure of her path.
The ceremony complete, she changed clothes once again and we had a celebratory dinner. My little girl, sitting across the table from me in a sassy little sundress, will be commissioned an officer in the United States Air Force in 2010.

A Cat Possessed

For her seventh birthday, my daughter had her heart set on a kitten. She had two specifications: it should be orange and have a tail. We didn't have to look long or far to find an orange kitten with a tail. Sneakers (so named because he had white feet) learned to get along with the dogs, but never learned the fine art of getting along with my husband, or most people, for that matter. They tolerated one another. Sneakers never failed to hiss at Donnie at every opportunity. Donnie would feed him, and Sneakers would hiss. Donnie would try to pet him, and Sneakers would hiss. Donnie could just walk by, and Sneakers would hiss. It was really pretty comical. Donnie referred to him as the "cat from hell", and eventually started calling him Azeezel, after some movie feline possessed by Satan himself.
Sneakers has disappeared. We returned from a couple of days away, and no cat. A friend who was charged with the feeding of the pets reported that he never saw the cat or had to refill his food bowl while we were away. My husband swears he had nothing to do with Sneakers' disappearance, although a few days before he discovered that the cat from hell had pissed on the seat of his motorcycle. He is convinced it was for no other reason than the fact that it was his motorcycle and the cat knew it - piss in lieu of a hiss.
Although I am pained to think that perhaps Sneakers has suffered in some way and I would like to know what happened to him, I must admit that nobody seems to really miss him - except maybe the dog.

Beginnings and Endings

A woman friend is getting married this week. She's fifty years old, with a son in college. Her husband decided he wanted his twenty-something pregnant girlfirend more than his twenty year marriage, so he has been her ex for a couple of years now.
Nina is a woman I admire. She is an outgoing, generous spirit; confident, matter of fact, the mother others hope to be, and oh so funny. She has had tremendous success in her career. She will tell you she is not religious, but that she loves Jesus with all her heart. There is a serenity about her of which I am envious. By all measures, she is a true gem.
After her first date with Ed, she told me I better go buy a dress. They have now known each other for three months. When she announced the wedding plans to me, I am sure she was disappointed in my initial reaction (what are you thinking?). But she is a big girl, and so profoundly and completely sure this is right that I cannot help but be happy for her.
While I am sincere in my wish for her happiness, I have already begun to grieve for our relationship.

Tag, You're Weird!

Sweet Shea has tagged me and I am IT. My first thought was that I would be unable to come up with six weird things about myself. Then the frightening thought occurred to me that there will be probably dozens from which to choose. Now that I am giving this assignment serious thought, I am struck by the notion that “weird” is in the eye of the beholder.

1. I require nitrous oxide for every dentist visit, even routine cleanings. Not just a little bit, mind you – crank that output up to 50%. I tell the hygienist she cannot begin until I can no longer feel my feet.
2. I believe in communication with the dead. I would like to have a session with someone who possesses that gift.
3. I live on a lake and love the beach, but am afraid of the water.
4. I am more comfortable alone in a crowd than surrounded by family and friends.
5. I think I was born 15-20 years late (in my secret life, I sang fabulous duets with Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett).
6. I would rather drive than be a passenger in a car.

The rules were clear for this game – post six weird things about me, then tag six others to read my post and do the same (notify by comment). However, I know only one other blogger and she tagged me, so my contribution will end here. I will enjoy reading others.

What If

In the conflict that has existed since the beginning – good pitted against evil, love or hate, rational thinking versus emotion - there cannot be a complete triumph. One is required for the other to be recognizable. They are fueled by one another. Would life be simpler if there was no dilemma?
What if the scales were off-balance, answers were clear, decisions were made in a cut-and-dried instantaneous flurry? What if analysis were not required? What if one didn't have to wonder?

Like Company That Won't Leave

For more than a year now, she has been held in its grasp, unable to shake loose. On occasion, the grip may lessen with an offered diversion, but it is always there, an unwelcome squatter. Although I can clearly see it, it is a demon I cannot battle for I cannot fully understand it. I have not walked in those shoes, and pray that I will not. Before its arrival, she had a self-imposed purpose, a reason to keep moving. She fought with a vengeance to keep it at bay, determined that her very existence was enough, but knowing somewhere she would lose.

It arrived in the early morning of a mid-summer day, while the air was still deceptively cool. I went with her to meet it, and the image of her stricken face when it touched her is etched in my mind. Her chest heaved with sobs she could not stifle. She was clearly its target, as if a big red bull’s eye was squarely centered on her heart. I could tell she was silently pleading with it to go away, that it wasn't time yet. For a moment, she was confused as she processed the scene around her. The instant her heart broke wide open, its aim was true.

Two days later, she buried her firstborn and only son.