Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Thankful for the trials

On Monday my four year old came home from preschool with a perfect Thanksgiving prop. An Indian inspired headband made of colorful construction paper feathers stapled to a thick brown strip of paper sat on his head. Three of the feathers were were adorned with black sharpie marker. Words obviously written by his teacher's hand communicated what Asher was thankful for. The feathers read:

"I am thankful for my baby brother."
"I am thankful for my baby brother's toys."
"I am thankful when my mom makes my baby brother stop hitting me."

(apparently he had his 2 year old brother, Beckett, on the brain that day.)

Cute. I smiled and chuckled at the innocence of his childhood and started to think about what I would write on those feathers.

I quickly thought of many things I am thankful for; my family, my home, my friends, and my health. General categories that most of us could write on construction paper feathers. Then I thought a little deeper.

This past week I also learned of four more people who have lost their jobs, a friend who ended up at Primary Children's hospital with her 1 year old, another friend who was attending a funeral of a young mother who'd died of cancer, and one more friend with unexplained health problems leaving her almost unable to walk.

So many different trials that so many of us face. I believe that all of us are given the trials that WE can handle. At times it seems so hard to find something to be thankful for when we are experiencing them, but as we struggle through them, they turn out to be events that bless our lives in other ways. My Asher has helped me realize this blessing more than anyone.

When I was 36 weeks pregnant with him, I went in for my regularly scheduled appointment. While there, the doctor said my baby's heart was beating too fast and told me I would need to deliver that day. Diagnosed with a heart condition called Super Ventricular Tachycardia (SVT) my premature infant was taken to Primary Children's hospital while I sat alone in a hospital room miles away.

The next few days were full of NICU visits, monitors, alarms, medication and diagnoses. In the NICU there are 6 patients to a room where mothers can sit by their sick babies and nurses work hard to help them. The baby next to Asher laid in a medication induced coma while scars from recent surgeries healed on him. Watching that baby I whispered to Sonny, "Wow, we are lucky Asher has the problems he has. That poor family."

After a week of seeing the other mothers every day, the mother of that baby in the next bed said to me, "The first night when your baby came in it was so scary. His monitors kept going off, his little heart beat was going crazy- I was so glad that wasn't happening to my baby." She had the same thoughts about our family's trial as I did about hers. It was a moment that helped me believe that the trials we have are given to us because WE can handle them.

So, as I finish out this Thanksgiving week, I am going to write on my feather- "I am thankful for my trials." I now have a happy, imaginative four year old that reminds me every day how trials have blessed my life. I hope that you will add this feather to your Thanksgiving headband too.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

The New Rich




This is a picture of a recent incident in Texas, where a man accidentally swerved off the road and drove his $1 MILLION dollar sports car into the marshy water. The car he drove is a Bugatti Veyron and is currently the world's most expensive car. Apparently a low flying pelican distracted him, making him drop his cell phone and while reaching for it, veer off the road. Reports say the celebrity driver (no name released) was in a pretty good mood about the whole thing. In fact he shared with the tow truck driver that he had just been on a call with Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger and kept getting so many other celebrity calls, he finally had to turn off his phone.


This article was the second thing this week that sparked my curiosity about those who live under the "New Rich" label.

On Thursday, I attended an event that my father invited me to. It was an appreciation dinner for those involved in a specific non-profit organization. It was held at an enormously fancy french restaurant nestled in a popular Salt Lake canyon. I felt out of place from the beginning. Pulling my car-seat filled, crumb covered SUV up for valet parking was a first for me. I gathered up the books and lunch bag resting on the passenger seat and threw them in the back before Mr. Valet took my keys.

Walking into a private ballroom decorated with live vines, plants, and trees from ceiling to floor, I was greeted with a rose and escorted to my reserved seat. I got there before anyone else. I knew no one, but the event coordinators were kind and complimentary of my father, so I felt a little better. Sitting alone at the table for eight, I was soon joined by two others.

A man who looked to be around 70 years old dressed in a nice dark suit, blue tie, large gold cuff links and a diamond encrusted watch pulled the chair out next to me. His wife, a beautiful 30-something brunette wearing bright red lipstick, six strands of diamonds, a fur wrap and an enormous diamond ring took her seat as he gingerly pushed it back under the table.

With no one else to talk to, the couple introduced themselves to me and we began chatting. The gentleman was FULL of things to talk (or brag) about. He talked about his previous ownership of the property behind the magnificent restaurant, his connection as chief advisor to the prince of Ethiopia, their trip to Morocco, ordering cheese and bread to their room every night and spending over $10,000 in one boutique alone. They talked of their travels, their purchases, their connections, and their seemingly happy life.

It was interesting to notice how inadequate I felt during the course of our conversation. I thought about the clothes I was wearing. The fake diamond earrings in my ears. The scuffs on my shoes, and the lack of knowledge I had about world travel.

I also thought how annoying it was to listen to him talk. It was especially annoying in this atmosphere. An event intended to share the need of help for children and families in developing countries. We were looking at pictures of kids living in huts, families trying to make a living and wells being built with old tires. It was oddly hypocritical.



These experiences have really driven home the fact that it is so much more admirable when a person is humble. I see this all the time with Sonny. (Who is probably squirming in his seat reading this and will want me to take it off.) For example, Sonny has owned a Ferrari, but drove his $500 chevy truck trade-in he got 4 years ago instead. He always tells people he's a car salesman, that's it. He doesn't ever say he OWNS a car dealership. People always assume he's the "lot tech" because he details many of the cars. He doesn't correct them by spouting his credentials, he just lets it go.

His attitude about humility teaches me every day.

I hope that as life continues and success grows (fingers crossed) that someday I will be sitting at that table again. I will know that I too have the money that could buy the lifestyle of these "New Rich" but the only acknowledgement I will give of that fact, will be a wink to my husband sitting next to me. Then, at the end of the night I can secretly write a big fat check to help build a school instead of buying designer clothes at a boutique in Morocco or a million dollar Bugatti Veyron.

www.interweavesolutions.org

*** In case you want to help someone now, Interweave Solutions is a non profit organization that can make that happen.

Friday, November 6, 2009

A Decade



Our Wedding Day Nov. 6, 1999

Today is my 10th wedding anniversary. It is a beautiful unseasonably warm November day. Crisp yellow, red, and orange leaves pepper the ground. The air is calm and the sun feels hot on my bare arms. Ten years ago, this day was almost exactly the same as it is today, but my life surrounding it is not.

We celebrated last night. Thanks to Grandparents and Aunt Brenda, our biggest change in ten years (three children) were well taken care of. Sonny drove home a Pontiac GTO for us to take out for the evening. After climbing in the sleek, lowered, two door sports car, and taking off with just the two of us inside, memories of years past flooded in.

With the corvette engine under the hood, smooth leather interior, and powerful stereo pumping through the speakers, Sonny couldn't resist pushing the gas pedal, throwing me back against my seat. The feeling was so familiar to me. When we started dating 12 years ago, I found myself in a different sports car (Nissan 300zx), with a different loud stereo, and a different version of the two of us. Our conversations in that car were about homework we had, friends we hung out with, movies we watched, and if we should ever get married. As we drove to the same Bed and Breakfast we stayed in the first night we were Mr. and Mrs., I thought of how happy I was that those conversations had evolved, changing with our lives.

We reminisced about the goals we had when we "started out". We talked about our achievements, our milestones. Driving along the familiar streets of our college town, we shared memories that took place in different buildings, parks, roads, or parking lots.

"I bought a guy's motorcycle there."
"The first dealership I worked at was there."
"We had our first date there."
"We bought your wedding ring there."
"We cashed our first tax refund there." (thought it was so much money!)
"We celebrated graduation there."
"We bought that great '70's jacket that gotten eaten by the neighbor's dog there."

Happy and sad, memories were fun to recount.


This is us now!


Sitting at dinner, with just the two of us- I felt so content. Despite stresses and challenges that show up as we age, I am glad to have lived through them. Though fast sports cars are fun, I am happy that I now permantely drive an 8 passenger SUV. A vehicle that carries the most important evidence that I've changed in the past 10 years, my family. The same people that Sonny's fortune talked about from his cookie last night- "Someone is looking up to you. Don't let that person down."

I don't know what will happen to us in the next ten years, or what kind of car I might be driving. I do know that I am going to do everything I can to live in the moments that make up those years. Then, on my 20th anniversary, I will feel just as happy as I do today.



Just Kidding, This is us now.