Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Denying Natural Attitude

My son has been sick since Sunday. He came down with this cold that's going around and like his father developed a fever. His body (which recently surpassed mine in height) was down for the count. And so the demands began. It's day 4 and to be honest I was done at day 1. No joke folks he would call me to come get his water which was on a table right next to him. I feel I must pre-empt this next statement by saying don't pray for me but I found myself wondering if patience is genetic or enviornmental. Again, though my patience well seems dry I am not asking for any. As you all probably know the only way to develop patience is to be put in situations where patience is needed so please do not pray for it for me. Three dozen plus (more than half but not quite a whole dozen) years ago I was born into a family with parents who were patient with people. They volunteered with mentally disabled adults which takes gentleness and patience. I followed in their footsteps by working with disabled adults. I would've volunteered but hey a girl's gotta eat. Mom and I even had clients in common. So it would appear my patience was genetic or was it? I was also on the receiving end of patience very early on. My cleft lip and pallet made it impossible for me to suck a bottle. My mom had to squeeze every ounce into me. Before she could even do that, she had to boil bottles down to get them pliable. That of course was done ahead of time. Once she got them pliable they stayed that way through normal use and washings. It took and hour and a half for mom to give me one 8 oz. bottle. Though she never said she minded I think she was glad when I could eat solid food. I also had a great role-model for patience: my Aunt Nellie. Don't check my family tree, she's not there. It was simply a term of endearment and respect for a friend of my mom. Aunt Nellie had a foster home for special needs children. She had 4 biological children of her own and while we were outside jumping on the trampoline she was inside feeding no fewer than 4 children in high chairs. I didn't realize it then but knowing her meant knowing patience personified. So is patience part of my genetic code or something I saw and emulated? Realizing that my recent impatience with my son's illness stems from my own selfishness I'd have to say it's DNA. I don't mean that long scientific word that they had to reduce to initials because we couldn't pronounce it. I'm talking about Denying Natural Attitude. It is only natural to be self absorbed every now and then, to grumble about disturbances to your routine. Or at least it is for me. Mom taught me alot and gave me alot. The least I can do is take good care of her grandson without grumbling and with plenty of patience.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

A new faith

I cannot believe what fell in my lap this week. A childhood friend who recently reconnected with me through Facebook had an interesting post about how the streams of life shape us and his have been rough torrents. This man was the son of one of my mother's friends so we were more-or-less friends by default. When his family moved that was the end of it or so I've always thought. He is so on fire for God which is not what I expected. The last time I saw him was in my Senior yearbook, his solemn face and blond mohawk starring out from the page. To be honest I don't even remmeber seeing him at school. I found out why when he directed me to his blog. His testimony is there and it is remarkable. It totally fits the theme of my next novel and I've asked if I could use it. But back to when the friendship between our mother's ended. The memory is foggy but upon reflection I realize it ended before they moved. The family didn't move til some time after the young man finished high school but I don't remember visiting with his mother much when I was in junior high or high school. The last clear memory is me helping him with his fourth grade school work so I must've been in 7th. I don't know if the women had a falling out. There are things about his mother that I now know but I'm not sure if my mother ever knew. I've been trying to think back to a time when Mom said, "There are ears in the cornfield" when talking to another friend about this woman. There is nothing in my data bank to tell me Mom knew what went on behind closed doors 2 blocks away. The one thing I do know is that Mom probably took whatever information, whatever hurt she had to The Father. Perhaps that is why a young man came back to a faith that was destroyed by his mother. I've heard it said that the best thing a child can have is a praying mother. I'd always just assumed that meant the child's own mother.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Will Amber-Rose come to life?

January is well under way and I'm feeling optimistic about what the year ahead holds for my writing career. I'm doing all I can to win a Sally Stuart Market Guide and one of 2 guidebooks from Mary DeMuth. I've talked about her here before when I did her Life in Defiance blog tour. Her characters are so real I'm sure Mom would've prayed for each and every one of them. I have the choice between a non-fiction and fiction proposal guidebook. As far as what I've published so far I'm a non-fiction writer but I'm trying to write fiction. It's fun creating characters. I wonder if Mom would like the character (Amber-Rose) I'm creating based on her. All the characters in my first fiction book are family members fictionalized; some more than others. Mom is basically herself except for how she went blind. I know she wasn't too thrilled when I first wrote the true story of my life so maybe she'd be happy if I opted for the fiction help. I probably won't write another memoir and I'm not sure if a collection of my devotionals is in the future. For now my devotionals are included in others' collections and on the web. Thanks for listening. I think I've made up my mind and will choose the fiction proposal book. Well speaking of the year ahead I've got manuscripts to clean up for contests so I'll sign off now. Wish me luck.