Advise from Grandma

Grandma H. 10/22/2008

One of the most wonderful women I know turned 89 on Sunday.  Strong, healthy, and spirited, she may outlive me by the rate she is going, and the rate I am going.  In talking about her age, she said "Well, I had to renew my driver's license.  The date expires in 2016 - I told Bill (her son) I would be around til then!"

I love visiting with Grandma Hytinen.  Such a wonderful person, so filled with stories, with memories, with love.  She was born to Russian immigrants, holds details of her life that may be stamped by a calendar date decades of years old, but still remain as real as if they happened yesterday.  Those stories of making jackets out of potato sacks, meeting and marrying the love of her life, raising a family and her children she is very proud of, running marathons at the age of 70, travels around the world, grandkids now grown, and now great grandkids ranging in all different ages and located all over the world.  She has the most delightful smile when telling stories, has taught me the difference between what really matters in this life, and what can be whisked away with little thought. 

On my visit with her Monday, she told me stories of family and life.  Stories we both laughed at, and I was able to see that amazing smile as she was talking.  In a life that has seen happiness, she is willing to share her joy.  In a life that may be seasoned with occasional pains, she has decided to not let anything stop her, or get her down.

"I'm not a well woman."
"Ruthe, I am not a well woman!" she told me.  In looking at her, I was a bit confused.  She went on to tell me a story about her sister.  By profession, her sister was a nurse.  Healthy throughout her life. 

"Oh, that is what my sister used to say.  Healthy woman, was a nurse, but if anyone asked her to do something she didn't want to do, she would simply tell them 'You know, I am not a well woman,' and they would leave her alone!  It was the funniest thing, because she started saying this when she was in her 50's - can you imagine? And, of course, she was well, she was very healthy...just didn't want to help out sometimes," she says, putting her hands together, laughing to the point her head goes slightly back as she laughs.

Then she looks at me, says "Ruthe, you should start using that - see what happens!"

Lesson - I guess there is always a way around helping others if you really don't want to.  No one will impose upon someone who is not well.

Great-Grandma and Emi

The Other Side of Heaven 
Grandma has a daughter named Joni.  Throughout the years, Joni has lived with Grandma, traveled on road trips, helped raise Joni's daughter.  One day, Joni and Grandma had a fight, and Grandma decided to leave the house and see a movie by herself.

"I got to the theater, and looked at all the movie names, and saw one that said The Other Side of Heaven.  I thought 'That is what I need, Heaven!' so I bought my ticket and went in to the theater.  Well, I was pretty early for the movie, at least 30 minutes early. I wear the tri-focal glasses, so I have to sit pretty high, otherwise I can't see.  So, I am sitting in this big theater, very quiet, peaceful...and then all these people started coming in...there were hundreds of them.  They all started sitting next to me; there was a group of 9 or 10 to my left, another group of 9 or 10 to my right, and they were all talking, all seemed to know each other. It went from being so quiet to nothing but chatter."

"So I asked if they knew each other, and they said yes.  They were all Mormons, watching this movie since it was about a Missionary.  The men were in their shorts, the women were all in those cotton dresses the Mormon women wear.  And they were all so talkative and happy, each one of them.  By the time the movie started, the theater was packed with all these Mormons!" she says, laughing again, and rolling her eyes at how many people had come into her peaceful theater when she was in need of a glimpse of Heaven.

"Oh, but it was the best movie.  Have you seen it?  It is about this missionary who goes to the Tongan islands, gets there later than when he was supposed to arrive.  When he finally arrives, no one was even expecting him.  Can you imagine?  But it was such a great movie. There was a scene where he prayed for a child to get well, and when he was better the mother offered her daughter, who was very beautiful, as her thanksgiving offering.  Well, of course, he has to sit down with the mother and explain how he has a special girl waiting for him back at home while he was away."

"Ruthe, I walked into that theater in the worst mood, and left actually feeling like I had been to Heaven. It was so great. I drove home in the best mood, so much happier than I had been when I left.  But all those people!  There were so many of them.  Nice people, those Mormons; always happy. The men are nice, always offering to help.  The women are just as nice and so talkative!  Of course, I had no idea what the movie was about, but wow! It was a great afternoon!"

Lesson - Sometimes, on those days we are searching for peace and quiet, in look for a glimpse of Heaven, we are suddenly surrounded by the chatter of others.  And, it is in those moments of chatter we are enriched by the kindness we witness through others.  If lost in this chatter, we may fail to hear what we need to hear.  But if we remain true to our desires, we will always be able to feel our own Heaven on Earth.

Great Grandma and Tyler

There were more stories shared on this visit with Grandma.  Stories of when she and Grandpa lived on the coast, in a 2 bedroom house that had an indoor pool she would get ready each weekend when the grandkids would come visit.  Stories about her health, her kids, upcoming weddings and babies being born.  She leaves for a trip to cooler places this weekend, taking with her the stories I love, but bringing back additional tales to tell.  The advise and lessons Grandma has taught each of us cannot be limited to a single blog post.  Even if I dedicated myself to a full-time effort to chronicle her stories it would not be enough time.  For now, I can only cherish and document some of them, and hope for many years past 2016 to share with her.

Supporting others

Sometimes I seriously wonder about people.  I wonder why they feel the need to not listen to why you may be doing something, only point out that you are doing something wrong. Or they simply do not care enough to support your passion but expect you to support theirs.

I recently encountered this when supporting a team in the NCAA basketball playoffs.  I was supporting UConn due to the relationship I was in, but also because I really started to enjoy watching this group of men playing ball.  I was told by others that I shouldn't support the team, I knew nothing about the team other than my boyfriend was supporting them.  These comments were met with "Why wouldn't I support what he enjoys?  Isn't that what you do when you are in a relationship - you support each other?"  I was so upset that my intentions would even be questioned when they were coming out of a place of love, of desire to see the person I was with be filled with happiness.  Silly - allowing a sport to make me feel so defensive, but as a friend, I have done this time and time again for those I care about.

To me, you support your family, your friends, those you love and care about.  You support them when they may not know how to believe in themselves...you encourage them, take an interest in them, and let them know you are on their side.  You may not always agree with their decisions, but rising above that to support their accomplishments is far more important. You may not always appreciate with their interests the way you do your own, but finding the time to show your support means a world of difference to those in your life.

I have done this in many different arenas and avenues in my life.  I am not perfect, though, and definitely do not feel I am so much better than others...I just appreciate how it feels when someone supports me.  I appreciate when someone says to me "I know nothing about this, but I am here for you."  I appreciate when someone takes the time to learn about something I have an interest in rather than bash it.  Or, on the flip side, I appreciate when they take the time to learn about it, support it, and let me know they support me.

I learned this once from an ex-boyfriend, and baseball.  My teams are the Angels first, then the Red Sox.  I enjoy watching some other teams, but those are the teams I truly watch, want to succeed.  The problem with having these as my favorite teams is that they are both American League teams, and if they both make any type of play-off series, chances are they are playing against one another.  My ex-boyfriend was a Red Sox fan.  And there was one playoff season where the Angels actually won against the Red Sox...quite a feat.  We were not together during this time, having broken up months before.  I received a text message saying congratulations on the Angels continuing in the series race to the World Series...there was no sarcasm, no hint of ridicule.  Just the genuine feeling of knowing it was important to me, and while he could have not texted me at all, he took the time.  That is what I feel is important...that level of support...

Take a few moments each day to learn something more about those in your life.  Parents should encourage their children on their aspirations.  Husbands and wives should participate in activities that may not be of their interest, but mean the world to their spouse or significant other.  Friends should adopt a policy of understanding and desire to encourage each other in their pursuits.  Listening to those in your life, allowing your walls to break down, learning more about endeavors beyond our own hands and minds could change our world for the better.

If we do not support one another, why are we surprised when there is no one there to support us when we fall?  Isn't that the essence of being a family?  Isn't that the essence of friendship?  Isn't that the essence of love - isn't that the essence of what we desire, but fear to show the most?  Why do we so often choose our self-interest over the interests of those we care about?  Our world would be a kinder, gentler place to live if we all would take the time to support one another, to learn about each other, and love each other for who we are, and what we like, rather than feel the need to become abrasive due to a minor difference of opinion.  We all only have this life to live, why not embrace it with kindness, understanding, and a helping hand.

Mother's Day

Ty and Emi, 4/22/2011

Today is Mother's Day...a reminder of all the wonderful blessings I have in my life.  A reminder of how my children brighten my day, help me to make better decisions, and create a home with love, excitement, hope, and energy.

Emi, Mom, and me  4/22/2011

Today is Mother's Day...a reminder of all the wonderful things my mother has done, is doing, or may do in the future.  All the sacrifices she made for her kids when we were growing up, and all the love she provided even when we made it hard.




Today is Mother's day...a reminder of how lucky I am to have beautiful sisters-in-law who consistently show love to my children, and amaze me at their level of love for their own children.  A reminder of how far we have all come since first meeting each other, and pride in knowing these amazing women, being able to call them friends, and family.

My beautiful sisters and mother-in-law.

My amazing sister-in-law and nephew

Today is Mother's Day...a reminder of how blessed I am to have my mother-in-law in my life.  A woman who gives her all to the family, loves us deeply, and never fails to offer support when we are going through our various trials.

Today is Mother's Day...a reminder of all the wonderful friends I have who are mothers as well.  Women who have been my example to raising children.  Women who have nurtured my own children along side theirs.  Women I am not afraid to call upon with my own questions, feelings of doubt, or celebratory moments.

I will never know why I am so blessed in knowing and having my children in my life.  I feel the Lord has blessed me beyond measure.  I will never know why I am so blessed in knowing and having my mom,sisters in law, mother in law and wonderful friends.  I can only thank the Lord for allowing me to have their support.

Tyler, Emberleigh, and me at an Angels Spring Training game.

I have the best friends

The past few weeks have been difficult.  There have been many things that I am questioning, many things I know what I want but have to rely upon others to make happen, many things I have wondered why it is happening at all.  Yesterday was one of those days where I broke down, crying, and told the Lord I was angry at him.  Angry that I have already suffered so much pain in my life...angry that it seems I am staying strong but am wearing thin...angry that in a world where I have been given so much, it also feels so much has been taken away from me.

It seems all I do lately is pray...pray for peace of mind, pray I will remain strong, pray I will be able to just put one foot in front of the other, pray He will show me His presence, comfort me, pray...pray that I will have what I desire, want, need.  Right now, I feel this tsunami of difficulties in my life, this storm that cannot be contained and is just destroying everything I have worked hard on, worked hard for...suddenly vanishing as if it was never there.  My heart has felt so troubled, I have put on the brave face as long as I can, but that hurt and pain I feel is breaking through.  Once again it feels that what I desire is being wiped out of existence...and the only thing that remains is this person who is expected to walk with her head held high while her heart and feet are dragging her through each very second of the day.

That is the funny thing about prayer...our talks with Him and what He gives to us sometimes are not what we expected.

In the past weeks I have talked to friends I hadn't said more than 10 words to in the past 16 years. I have talked to friends who know me at my best, and at my worst.  I have had newer friends comfort me during these trying times.  Friends who have seen my successes and grand fails.  Friends, like family, that remain next to me, and time doesn't seem to be of importance from the last we spoke - only that you are able to pick up where you last off, as if you talked no more than 5 minutes before.  These are the people I could call at 1:30am after being in a car accident who come to pick me up.  Friends that hold my deepest secrets, but don't remind me of the pain within those secrets.  Friends who have held my hand as I suffer another loss, or as I watch my children make their own achievements.

I know this is what I have prayed for - His comfort provided to me in the bonds I have made through out the course of my life.

The countless hours catching up, sharing what we are doing in our different avenues of life, crying with one another, or laughing through stories...those are the moments you live for in life.  To have someone know you so well, and to call out of the blue, and to recognize the power of their presence in your life. For this, I know the Lord is with me...even when it feels He is so far away, on sabbatical and not answering phone, text, IM, email, knocks at the door...quietly, He reminds me I must remain faithful in my desires, quietly He reminds me I am important, I am needed by others, I am special in His eyes.  He hasn't left; He is just waiting for me to come to Him with those needs and desires - to actively seek Him out, to allow Him to erase my tears with joy.  But it will take time.

In the mean time, he has reminded me of the fact I have the best of friends there are to have.  Those that offer me patience, kindness, tender words, a hug, and a reminder that I am not forgotten, and that I am loved.

Scarlett letter of the modern times

I never wanted to be a single parent.  It was the last intention on earth to be alone, raising children, dealing with all their needs without the support and help of someone else physically living with me.  And even when I had someone else physically living with me (their father), it was pretty much like doing everything on my own anyhow.

In today's age, I feel that being a single parent is similar to that of the Scarlett Letter.  Sure, I had my kids while married, so I do not carry a scarlet letter "A" upon my chest as Hester Prynne did, but instead I carry the scarlet letters "SP" upon my life.  Sometimes I feel people look at me in dismay, or disbelief.  In my dating life, it is always cause for great concern when the kids are brought up.  For all the thought and reflection another may do in deciding if my family is something they want to take upon their shoulders, it is greatly appreciated.  Yet, it is also hard at the same time.  It is hard hearing someone say "I am not sure about dating you because of the kids" as if I could wave a magic wand, revert back to another time when I did not have children to start over.  Truth is, the kids have helped form the individual they see standing in front of them.  Truth is, if I accept someone for who they are, I accept all of them, not just bits and pieces.  Sometimes if feels this is the opposite of what happens to me.

In my mind, I recognize the fact that it is not about being accepted, or rejection.  In my mind, I understand that what I have to offer may not be what everyone wants to take upon their own lives.  I get it. I am not sure if I could date someone with kids, which is really ironic. I understand that if I was dating someone with a child, I may have misgivings as well.  Let's face it, it is hard coming into a relationship and not being the other person's top priority.  It is hard feeling like you are doing things in reverse of the old childhood song of "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage..." especially if that baby in the baby carriage is not yours...and is not in a carriage any longer, but able to see what you are doing, look up to you, ask for advise, and include you as their family.  It is hard wondering if you will measure up to what they need, desire, request, or want.  In trying, though, you discover strengths you never knew...

In my heart, however, that is where rationale is thrown out the window.  My mind is able to comprehend and understand the fears that accompany involvement with someone wearing the scarlet SP.  But my heart is different.  My heart, that is able to love and give love does not understand.  My heart looks upon my kids' faces, sees beauty mixed with all their little personality traits, and wonders why someone would doubt the ability to love them.  My children are some of the easiest kids to be around.  They don't ask for much.  They don't act out for attention, or create havoc in the lives of others.  Since I have not involved them with many of my relationships, friend or love based, and sheltered them from yet another person being in their lives, they don't have that dread of "Here comes another one...thanks Mom"

In my heart, I desire to have companionship.  I am not looking for another 'daddy' for my kids...they already have one.  I am not looking for someone to come in and pay my bills, or take on more than they should.  I am not wanting someone to be there because they feel they should be there.  I want someone to talk to at the end of the day, who will hold my hand, walk with me through difficult times, and laugh with me when things are good.  In my heart, I desire to be a good companion, supporting them through their journey in life.  Regardless of the ups and downs, to have my companion also believe the fact that we are standing with one another and we will make it as a team.  To look at me, despite all I have in this world that may be scarlet letters SP related, any baggage I may come with, and go beyond fear to try.  I am not expecting perfection.  I am wanting someone to do their best.

Everyone is going to have baggage, everyone is going to have something from their past that is hard. Everyone is going to have fears and issues they are working on until the minute they leave this world.  Everyone has their own desires, and their own goals. Taking upon yourself the other person's desires, goals, and needs, encouraging them, standing beside them, and being a shelter from the storms of life is part of being with someone just as much as when the sun is shining, good times are only seen, and life seems like a never ending amazement. Accepting someone as they are, knowing as each day passes, we are both growing together, is the goal.

When heartbreak is even harder

I remember my first heartbreak, of realizing I liked someone more than they liked me.  It was such a crushing feeling.  I remember feeling so foolish for all my daydreaming about what it would feel like to hold his hand, or to have him call me on the phone.  He was my pastor's son, Matthew.  All the girls had a crush on him, and he was as cute, and nice.  He didn't feel the same, and I had to face every Sunday knowing I had made a fool of myself.  Even after moving, my family would still occasionally visit the church, and it felt like I was in 6th grade, all over again.  I even ran into him at college one day, not knowing we were attending the same school.  By that point, there was only the sting of what had happened, and not fresh wounds.  He was never rude to me, it was more on my own that I had these awkward feelings.  And for each new crush I would think of Matthew, and each new time someone didn't like me, I felt that same awkwardness...little did I know that those feelings would happen over and over again.  

So, as to protect my heart, I tried like a fool to just get over it, move on, and not let it bother me.  And in the process, I became incredibly shy when it came to liking someone new.  To this day, I probably would not go up to someone and say something to the effect of 'Are you busy Friday night?'

In the current relationship I am in, I knew I had a crush before anything was ever said to him about my feelings. In fact, had he not kissed me first I would have just liked him from afar, and wallowed in my own misery whenever I thought about him, talked to him, or he happened to be in the same city as me.  

It is in those earliest memories we form some sort of realization that maybe not everyone likes us.  Maybe we are to the other person an equivalent of the opposite they are looking for.  Maybe we can't express what it is that they didn't like, but it hurts none the less.  Those earliest memories of a childhood heartbreak are often the hardest to get over, and the ones so much more remembered than the guys we thought about as an adult.  

My son told me the other day he had a crush on a girl at school.  In asking my advise, I had to remind him to be himself, to be nice (but not too nice to creep her out), to show his interest in her (but not to the point she felt he was staring at her all day in class).  She is in his reading and math groups at school, he let her win a game of hoops, she asked him to dance with her at the Friendship Dance 3 weeks ago.  She laughed at his jokes.  And yesterday, he was so excited to tell me that he told her he liked her...and she said she liked him.  Then today, after he asked her out, she declined.  

He came home after school, went into his room, laid on his bed, and was very upset.  To add to the wonders of childhood crushdom, his friends found out he had asked her out, and she said no, and he is now being teased.  

I have had many heartbreaks over the years, plus a divorce.  I have dated someone for 5 years only to be told he didn't think I was 'the one'.  But never, in all my heartbreak, have I felt so bad as I do right now for my son.  My son, the one who tells people I am 23 because that is my fake age.  My son, the one who helps me out without question, asks if I am okay when I cough or sneeze, and watched me suffer through my own heartbreaks as much as I tried to not let him see.  This is surely when heartbreak is even harder - when one of the people you would do anything in this world for is suffering, and not old enough to know things will be okay.  But, in the end, I am not sure that has an age - that knowledge that tomorrow will come, the sun will rise, and carry on with or without you.  It is better to be in the day, soldier on, so to speak, and not let those who taunt you see you are upset.  It is better to still remain friendly with the person who has torn your heart out, allowing them to possibly see they made a mistake, but what's more - showing you are the same decent person you were before your world crashed, only a bit more bruised by ego.

Confessions of a single mom

There are many things I can mention about being a mother.  I have moments where I may glow from the love I feel for them...and other days where I look more haggard than even I care to admit.  Being a mother is not easy.  Being a single mother is even harder.  But, in being the person I am, I try to never use this aspect of my life as a disability, reason for excuse, or even reason for boasting.  I am proud of my children in ways I can never explain to the outside world.  I will tell others about their attributes and traits, but will not gush to the point people start to tune me out.  There is nothing worse than a parent who constantly talks about their child, and you are forced to look at pictures of this kid you do not find adorable, but still need to lie about it for fear of being backhanded by the parent.

Being a mom is something I never thought I would do.  Growing up, I never even wanted my own children.  I wanted to adopt.  And in adopting, I was hoping for a rainbow of children.  I loved kids, but didn't know if having my own was in the plan.  I also didn't realize this would translate to having kids at the age 21 and 23.  There is nothing quite as amazing as the first time you see your own child, seconds after being born, and realizing you are forever in charge of loving, caring for, and protecting them.  It is the closest I have ever been to understanding what it will feel like when I am no longer on earth, and meeting my Heavenly Father for the first time.  It is an overwhelming feeling.  Being a parent means I have times where I am tired, but must continue, have needs but need to secure the needs of others first, desires that may be put on hold, and dreams that may be realized later in life than I imagined.  And for some reason, I do this without reservation.  I do this as second nature, and don't think twice about it.

In my own home, I find myself taking the entire responsibility of cleaning.  On some days, this is great because I love to clean, and have thoughts of how I want cleaning performed.  The kids will help with their chores - Tyler takes the garbage out, and Emberleigh...well, she thinks she is a princess who does not need to do anything except sigh as she picks up the living room. 

But when I walk into my kitchen, seeing empty, dirty cups on the counter-top simply because the kids didn't open the dishwasher, put the cup into the dishwasher, then close the damn appliance I tend to get upset.  It isn't that I am forced to do this myself for them that upsets me; it is that they are not taking care of this for themselves.  I have even thought about letting the dishes pile up, not take the steps to clean, and see what happens, but as previously mentioned - I love to clean.  In turn, that means I also do not like messes, which means I won't be allowing messes to occur.

My daughter is in for a shock this weekend when we dissect her room and start to toss things out.  When we moved into our townhouse in May she was told to keep her room clean - yet the size of the room was much smaller than she was used to.  She literally has boxes left to unpack...and it is now February.  God only knows how much clothing she is not using, papers that should be tossed.  The other night she told me she likes to hang on to old magazines...except she is holding onto old entertainment magazines from 2007 - half those people probably aren't even with the same person they were with in '07, and the children they may have been pregnant with are now enrolling into college.  Well, not really, but with how quickly entertainers lives change, why would you hold onto a magazine that is more than 30 seconds old?  NO point to do that.  She is in for a rude awakening when garbage bags, boxes, and cleaning supplies will be used this weekend, and the end result will be me, cleaning her room, but getting rid of everything she does not need, should not have, or needs to get over not having.  My son is a little better.  But still, his room is also on my list of things to do this weekend.  I am just hoping my need to clean is similar to Goose and Maverick with their need for speed on Top Gun. 

In the grand retrospect of being a mom, and a single mom at that, there are many moments where I wish I could go back, but only to create a happier more secure environment for my children.  I have moments where I wish I could go back and hold them again as infants, or not take for granted the moments I had with them as a stay-at-home mom when I was married.  There are times I wish I could see them take their first steps again, feel that rush of excitement in watching them view the world for the first time, and embrace the moment a little longer.  I don't know if I will have those moments again with another child (I would need to first settle down, get married, get pregnant...well, you get the picture), so my only desires are to try not missing out on what is going on today.  Eventually my children will grow, will be out of the house, start their own families, and I will be off to establish those dreams I put on hold for so long.  I hope to see them as happy adults, forging their way through a world of unlimited potential.  I hope to see them realize their dreams without sacrifice, love without reservation, and know joy that is never-ending.

What makes a man a father or grandfather

My children have a plethora of grandparents.  In total count, there are 3 grandmothers, 4 grandfathers and a Pam.

I come from a family where my parents are still married, and have not been married to anyone else.  My maternal grandparents were together until my grandfather passed away in 1981, and my grandmother never remarried.  My paternal grandparents were divorced shortly after my father was born, and subsequently my grandfather was not part of the family any longer.  My grandmother remarried my step-grandfather, Jim, and  they had my uncle but later divorced.  She passed away in 1977 - not long after I was born. While I met Jim, we were not close to him.  He was a great grandfather to my uncle's kids, and would send cards to us at Christmas, but we were not taking family vacations to visit.

Growing up, I never had the awkwardness of sharing time between families as my kids must do now. Their family tree is a confusing tangle of branches. My ex-husband's parents, Kim and Dale, have both been married 3 times each.  With each marriage my mother-in-law has had, the person is included in our family.  Her second husband is Grandpa Bill.  Her third husband is Grandpa Robert.  Due to the divorce between Bill and Kim, there was another marriage, resulting in another grandmother of sorts, Kathy.  Dale remarried, and his third wife is Pam.

Truth be told, the men who were married to Kim after her divorce to Jared's father have shown more attention to my children than Jared's father, Dale, has.  Grandpa Bill and Grandpa Robert have been a part of the kids' lives in a much more active role than Dale.  From birth, my father along with these men have been there for birthdays, holidays, held the kids when they were toddlers, attended school events, and did more than simply send a card every 5th Christmas and birthday.

I don't mean to seem critical of Dale.  There are many reasons why the lack of communication has effected his grandchildren.  There are many rifts in the family between Jared, Dale, myself, and everyone else.  Tyler, being the only person in the family to pass along the last name, did not receive a birthday card from Dale until he was 7.  Hard feelings and stubborn hearts can often cause people to say, do, and show things differently.  And my children must suffer in some ways due to this.

My children do not know most of what rifts occurred before or after their births.  I have maintained separation of adult and child scenarios that they do not need to be privy to.

Grandpa Bill and Tyler

Auntie Arin and Grandpa Robert

Grandpa Bill and Emi

What always strikes me, however, about the 3 active grandfathers in their lives is the choice, the decision, and the desire to maintain a relationship.  It is not always easy to do this, and for their efforts, I am forever grateful.  These men have chosen to pick up where someone else has either left off, or failed to even show up.  They have loved my children regardless of issues with someone or something else.  They have taken care of them while they were sick, took interest in them as individual people, and watched them develop into the people they are today.  They have not allowed outside influences to determine their level of attention, level of interaction, or level of love to be swayed.

My own words I would say

Have you ever sat down with someone and told them your heart's song for them?  Told them how important they are to you, how each day is brighter due to their presence in your life?  Have you ever sent a letter to someone telling them how you love them, appreciate them, and know they have the ability to conquer and accomplish all their goals, dreams, and desires?  Have you ever said the words that can touch someone so deeply they are forever grateful?

When others allow you into their heart, when they share who they are, what they want, what they believe, it forges a different path than maybe you would have taken otherwise.  Our words to others are not that of "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me."  Our words to others, followed by our actions, can create a bond between spirits.  Our words can give hope, can offer peace, and can establish joy within the hearts of others.

I am not sure if I do this for those around me on as regular a basis as I would like.  I attempt to always let others know how I feel, but sometimes feel I fall short when going through a regular day of frustration where my own world feels like it is ripping at the seams.

I recently received 2 forms of communication that shook me.  One was a letter mailed to me, unexpected, from my sister-in-law Jessica.  The other was an email received today, from a person I deeply care about and would do anything just to see them smile.  For the sake of this person, I will not mention names, but if you read this, you know who you are.

The letter from Jessica came on a day where I literally was so low in spirit.  I was struggling with not only the regular day emotions, but also huge questions about who I am, what am I doing, why do I suffer the way I do when it comes to certain things...I received the letter on November 20, just a few short weeks ago.  As I am reading this letter that was written on stationary with her handwriting, I was transformed to different periods of my life where things were much more stressful than today.  I was transformed to different periods of my life where I felt complete joy, complete love, and a blissful ignorance only time diminishes. Suddenly, I was 19 again, I was 23 again, I was 27 again, reliving all the wonderful and difficult phases I have grown through, and grown up to be the person I am today.  She was sharing with me her appreciation of who I was, how I live, and who I will be in the future.  She was telling me through every sentence how she loved me for me.  The words she wrote on paper were not just words - they were a song, a testament to love, to family, to strength, and to honor.  They were words I cannot even think of without becoming tearful with an overwhelming warmth of love for her, and who she is.  She didn't know the day I received this I would need it.  She put her faith in her actions, and realized she was doing this based out of her need to show her appreciation.  I have read this letter several times since, overcome with emotion each time.

The other, the email I received today, touched me in a different way.  It was not centered around me as the letter from Jessica.  It was someone sharing with me who they were, their fears, their uncertainty of what the future may offer, and how they were not sure how or what steps they would take.  It was someone telling me who they were in their thoughts. And while there was a mention regarding my strength, or willingness to give of myself, I do not believe that is why the email was sent to me.  I believe it was sent due to a longing to let out feelings that may otherwise be left to roam within their heart, unknown to many, unheard to all. 

My own words I would say to Jessica and the person very dear to me would include something similar to lyrics from my previous post below.  Some of my words will be shared with them individually, in a more private forum rather than in the world of internet searches.  But they would also include a special editorial note as follows that I am willing to share to the world, for all to see, without fear or reservation (with some of those lyrics included):

For Jessica, my sister in love, you are forever one of the strongest women I know.  From the time our lives became intertwined we have both had our ups and subsequent downs.  You have always put a brave face on for the world to see, and I am sure and know that is not always the easiest thing to do.  You demonstrate strength to a degree I will never be able to understand, but have also demonstrated such grace under pressure with all the hardships life has given.  We have grown together as individuals, and grown up together through our own hardships and joys.  To see you as a mother, holding your sons in your arms, to watch your love for them, the love you have for your husband, and the love you have for the Lord is truly an amazing event to see.  In these moments, you are at your most beautiful, for your love shines through you as rays of sunshine would light the sky at dawn.  Be strong in the Lord, never give up hope.  You’re going to do great things, I already know.  God’s got His hand on you so don’t live life in fear.  Forgive and forget.  But don’t forget why you’re here.  Take your time and pray. These are the words I would say.

To my very special friend, with whom my time has been shorter than others in my life, I want you to know your brilliance is beyond my understanding at times.  Your wit, your desire to achieve great things, and your tenacity at grabbing what you want (including my attention) can never be matched.  While most things are uncertain right now, I know you are going to set the world on fire.  You are nothing short of amazing, and I feel so blessed each day having you as part of my life.  Hold strong in your trust to do good. You have captured my heart in so many aspects of who you are, not what you are. Be strong in the Lord, never give up hope.  You’re going to do great things, I already know.  God’s got His hand on you so don’t live life in fear.   Forgive and forget.  But don’t forget why you’re here.  Take your time and pray. These are the words I would say.

On being a mom

Thirteen years ago today I was given the opportunity of a new job.  I was given absolutely no guidebook on this new job, no real job description other than examples I had seen from others that performed this job.  I was not sure how I would handle all the responsibilities of this new role in my life - or what exactly would change due to this new job.  All I knew was I staring at the most beautiful person I had ever met who gave me my new job...that of being a mother.

It is funny how quickly time passes.  13 years ago, I was holding this tiny 6lb, 15 oz person, 20 inches in length with the biggest feet and dimples I had ever seen.  She was perfect, from head to toe.  She had the smallest of features, lips that looked like rosebuds, tiny hands with long fingers and a signature crooked pinkie finger on both hands just like her mother.  I was exhilarated, scared, in love, and not sure what to do next all at the same time.  The day was chilly, but not cold.  Storms had come through the town later that day, and in the days after that the temperature did eventually chill.  The ride from hospital to home was the slowest, most cautious drive I have ever been a part of, as her father and I attempted to not have anyone hit the most precious cargo we had ever carried with us in the car.

Those first few days of motherhood were some of the most wonderful I had ever had, and really, there has not been a day that has compared since.  Those first moments of holding her, watching her sleep, looking at her perfect little features, and feeling so blessed to have her in my life.  There were moments of changing the diapers, feeding time, trying to get her snug in her bed without her being in a position that could cause unintentional death.  There was the moments I would look at her sleeping, and wake her up for fear she was not breathing.  There were the moments I had read about in the "helpful" books that told me to talk to her, and when looking at her I didn't have a clue what to say...what do you tell someone you have known only by the kicks she provided you for 9 months, not to mention the heartburn, morning sickness, moments of quiet where I would watch her moving slightly within my belly.  I talked to her the entire time I was pregnant, but that is far different from talking to her as I was looking at her.

Being a mom, I have learned, is not the easiest job.  Not only are you a caregiver, you are their teacher, advisor, chauffeur, nurse, playmate, accountant, cook, maid, and if you are lucky, you are their confidant. You are the first person they learn to trust, the first person they associate with love, and the first person they emulate their own pattern of behavior after.  The countless nights I didn't receive a wink of sleep, the times I spent watching her throw a fit, or play with her babies, learn to crawl, walk, and eventually run are long passed.  She is now almost as tall as me, with feet that are bigger than mine.  She is no longer in need of my help to get around, unless you count a store she would like something from.  She no longer looks at me as her end-all, be-all.  My daughter is now getting more and more independent with her thoughts, actions, and intentions.  She is no longer the little infant I would dress up in pretty dresses just to take her picture; she is a teenager with the ability to dress herself and post endless photos to her Facebook account.

In all the world, I never expected the new job given to me that day to be as hard, both emotionally and physically.  I never imagined the new job could leave me some days completely bereft in my attempts to make "house peace".  I never imagined how one of my kids singing my favorite songs could make me tear up like a baby, or how seeing them achieve their goals could feel like tiny successes of mine as well.  In all the world, I never expected being a mom could mean so much, require so much, take so much, and need so much of my time in so many ways, yet offer me incredible freedoms in other areas that you do not recognize when you are single.  I never imagined I could feel unconditional love that, regardless of what my 2 kids will do, is never wavered.  I never imagined I would be so blessed as I am in being a mom.

All In

The moments we spend attempting to reconcile with our past prevents us from pursuing new dreams, new hopes, new faith.

This is where the actions of today need to be more present than ever before - when attempting to move on. And this is where I am today, at this very moment. You are either all in for the present, or left to decay in the past.

I would hope when others look at my life they see someone who is all in, and for the right reasons. I would hope they see someone who is attempting to do her best every day. I would hope they would see my love shining through. But in the end, does it matter what others may see if you yourself do not also feel and see the same thing? In the end, as I stare myself down in the mirror, it matters more what I see than what the world may see.

This world is not a kind place. Finding your niche in this world may be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. But being happy with who you are far outweighs any of life's opinions. When I look back at my life in 5 years, 15 years, 50 years, I want to never regret not saying I love you to my children enough. I want to never regret not telling the man I am in love with that he is great. I want to never regret a temporary misunderstanding separate me from the joy of knowing a friend. I want to collect moments of laughter as a hobby. I want to find things satisfying in my world, and not what the populous considers satisfying. I want to live each day, all in, with nothing left to wonder, nothing left to regret, and nothing left to desire when I breathe my last breath.

When two worlds collide

There are so many times in our lives when we have collisions with different aspects of our lives. With the help of social media, we are discovering that 6 degrees of separation is really more common than we ever thought. Suddenly, we are all more connected, all more closely intertwined in ways we never dreamed of.

We can all look at our networks of professional, personal, family to discover similarities beyond what we could do even 5 years ago.

My earliest recollection of this "collision" sadly was not my story. No, it was on the news learning a woman who works as a waitress had been pouring coffee for her father for years, every morning, without knowing who he was, and he not knowing who she was.

Then came my own experiences.

In junior high and high school I went to school with a girl who's parents were divorced. She lived in my town with her mother, and her father was about 80 miles south. She lived between them, sharing weekends and summers, or a school year at one point, with her dad. When coming back from her weekend visits she would often tell me about her time with her dad, his girlfriend, her two kids. The girlfriend had a daughter who was 4 years younger than us, and had best friends that were twins, all sharing the same birth date. When she was visiting her father during one summer we would write letters, and always she would mention these other people. After graduating high school we went our separate ways but remained in contact very randomly. Flash forward to meeting my ex-husband, his sisters (twins), and their best friend (all 3 born on the same day) and finding out the people my friend from school was talking about are now part of my family.

When working at Macy's for the cosmetic department I had a client who would come in for men's fragrance. He was older, probably in his 70's or 80's. He was sweet, though. He refused to buy his cologne from anyone but me, probably due to my giving him all the freebies I could find. After about a year of him coming in, and telling me about his cruises he takes, the girlfriend he would buy jewelry for, etc. we talked about his family. His son was an All American in college, and also a great wrestler. He was very proud of his son, and talked about him, his wife, and their kids regularly after that. One day, while talking about his son, he mentioned where his son worked - at the high school I went to. His son was my American History teacher in high school, and I went to school, graduated from high school with his grandson. After learning this, he would regularly bring in pictures of the family so that I could see them, and he could show them off.

Other random collisions are because of social media. I became "friends" with a girl I knew in high school. Among her friends was a girl I went to elementary school with, 80 miles from where I went to high school. Turns out, these 2 somehow met in college, became best friends, and strangely we were all connected. I met another friend at church, became friends on the site, and realized one of her friends is someone I worked with during my freshman year of college some 16 years ago.

When our two worlds collide, I do not think it is by coincidence. I do not believe it is by accident. I believe it is to remind us of how we are all connected to one another in some way. It is to remind us to be kind to strangers, never knowing who they may be in relation to others we know, others we care about, or even love in the past, present, and future. It is to remind us that angels are watching over us, and guiding us to safety through another person to connect the circle of life. Life is a miraculous event, and we are never really alone in a sea of faces. We may be unique in finger print, cell structure, DNA, but we are all still connected in a very intricate way. This reminds me to be kind to the older people I meet; they may be someone's grandparent. This reminds me to be kind to children; they may be offspring of someone I knew or know. It reminds me to be kind to the person who is at the grocery store, department store, gas station, restaurant. They could all be a part of my world without my even knowing it.

Mina Louise Loos Blanchfield

My grandmother is one of my favorite people. She had such strength in the midst of chaos. She demonstrated love when surrounded in a world of hurt. She was silly, goofy, faithful, and wonderful.


Last night I had a dream about my grandmother. In this dream, I was in her care facility, able to see her again, to smell her scent and touch her skin. For a brief moment, I had her here in my world, able to talk to her and feel her spirit once again. My grandmother, or Ladybug as I nicknamed her one day as a teenager, has been gone for 12 years. And for those 12 years I have never thought an ounce of regret for the times I spent with her before she passed.


Ladybug was born September 7, 1916. Her parents had immigrated from Germany before she was born, and settled in Windsor, Colorado. She was the oldest child in a family of several girls and one boy. Her life was not easy, not blessed, and not charmed. She had a father who was difficult at best, and did not share his love with her very often. Her brother died while in her care. She had a baby out of wedlock who died when she was an older teen. She later met and married my grandfather, Robert, in Los Angeles. Together they raised a family in Grand Junction, Colorado. She is a mother to 5 daughters - Eugenia, Roberta "Bobbie", Mary, Ruby, and Mina Lorraine. She is the grandmother to 9 grandchildren - Michael, Rob, Ruthe, Richie, Dawn Michelle, Robby, Bobby, Ray, and Michelle. She is the great-grandmother to 6 great-grandchildren and growing.


Growing up, we lived close to Ladybug off and on. I remember going to her house when my grandfather was still alive. I would walk into her house, hear sounds of "...and these are the days of our lives..." as she had a soap opera on television. My mother, walking out the door, would tell her "Please do not let Ruthie have any cookies, Mom," to which my grandmother in her infinite grandmotherly wisdom would say "Okay, Ruby." She would wait for the door to close, my mother's car to be out of her driveway, then say "Okay, she is gone...you know where they are!" My memories of my grandparents together, the places we would go, their car, the smells of their house, my grandfather becoming ill and eventually dying are still so close to my heart, but rarely a place I allow my adult mind to visit. I miss them both too greatly.


So many things changed around the time my grandfather died. My father became ill, required surgery for a rare but treatable tumor. He decided to leave the church he was pastoring. We moved from a parsonage to the only apartment we ever lived in growing up. My mother became pregnant, and later miscarried the baby. My grandfather had his leg amputated, and eventually passed away. My grandmother stayed with us for a while before we moved away to Kansas. My grandmother eventually moved to Houston to live with my mom's eldest sister, Eugenia. She had her own home for a while, just around the corner from my aunt's house. But eventually she needed to someone to be with her at the house, and not live alone. She would come to visit, tell me her silly Grandma stories I loved so much, and try to help my mother but really just annoy my mom more than anything. Annoy is not the right term, but in my grandmother trying to wash dishes, or do laundry, my mother had quite different ideas of what clean was. So funny, because now the tables have turned, and I sometimes suffer this same problem.


Ladybug suffered several strokes, medical issues that led her to live in the same town as we were in when I was going into the 7th grade. Due to not having enough room, my mother had to make the decision to create my grandmother's new home in a care facility. After this, my grandmother entered into different stages of who she was. At times she was funny, and sweet. Other times she was quiet, and sullen. She suffered more medical issues, and possibly the onset of Alzheimer's. Through it all though, she would always tell me she loved me.


My daughter is the only great grandchild my Ladybug met. The first time I watched my grandmother hold my daughter, I was awestruck at how young she looked again. She was 81 when Emi was born - her face and hands showed the signs of those years. Her hair was long since grey and cut short for easy maintenance. Yet, she looked so young in that very moment. She held her, cooed to her. She asked me when Emi was almost a month old if she was blowing "spit bubbles" yet. When I told her yes, she smiled, and told me "I love that when babies do that." She was mesmerized by her, and I was captivated by having 4 generations within the same room. Emi was 7 months old when Ladybug died. She will never know her scent. She will never really know her voice, the feel of her touch, the way she shuffled, or stood. She will never hear her sing a hymn, or any of her Grandma stories. This is the saddest fact of life - that those I love now do not get to experience the true essence of every moment I was able to spend with those from my past who are just as much a part of me.


My dream last night allowed me to wander into that place in my heart - the place I so lovingly remember, but never allow myself to visit often. I was able to see Ladybug smiling, walking, talking. I was able to have her here for a brief moment, then awake and realize she is still watching over me, seeing who I am as a person, daughter, mother, friend, and sister. I would hope the actions I take on a daily basis are making her smile, because her smile was beautiful.

Strong women

I am so blessed to know strong women of all ages. Women who have survived much, been through much, and have the ability to remember the past in fondness and not bitterness.

I spent some time with Great Grandma yesterday. A rare treat for us since she moved back to Washington. She told me stories of her parents immigration from Russia to America with their parents, stories of her marriage to Grandpa Bill, and how she thinks her current age of 87 does not scare her, but turning 90 is a different story. Up until 10 years ago she was running in marathons. She raised her family with an iron fist, and the heart of a champion.

We are very blessed to have Great Grandma. She is the glue that holds so much together. Her quiet yet tenacious style is to be admired. She was married to Grandpa for over 50 years, raised 4 kids, knows more about gardening than anyone else I know. She holds so many memories that, if given the time, would take years to tell. She has been able to travel the world, spent time exploring the planet. Her luck is amazing! She once told me a story of going to a World Series game at Yankees Stadium with Grandpa Bill - they were in the city on business when she happened into an elevator where 2 business men were informed they would need to return from their business trip. In the elevator she overheard them talking about having tickets to the game that night, and their plan to sell them. Being Grandma, she asked how much they wanted for the tickets...the meager price paid would be unheard of today, and the experience of seeing a World Series game was one that left a deep impression on a woman who has so many other experiences. She makes her own jewelry, knows everyone's birthday, and loves beyond any boundaries.

My own daughter is growing into a strong woman. I wish I could be accredited with her wisdom and grace, but the truth is she was born with this. As an infant she looked so much wiser than her age. Her compassion toward others is remarkable, her ability to forgive teaches me to forgive. She expresses herself in a way that I often find incredible given her young age. She loves her family more than anything, and never forgets a friend regardless of distance or time last seen. Her heart is that of a quiet warrior. Yes, she is still a child, and bickers with her brother, whines about cleaning her room, and doesn't like to hear an answer of no, but it is how she carries herself that is truly that of a strong woman.

In a world where it is sometimes difficult to be a woman, I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by women of high character. On average, we make less than men, but live longer lives. We handle work, family, and everything else in between. We juggle our emotions against what the world thinks we should do. We love beyond reason sometimes to our detriment. We fight within our gender for rights, needs, and desires. We have PMS, can be moody beyond all reason, and cry at the first sight of a Hallmark commercial. We can be strong, resilient, and pick up the pieces where they may fall. We are lucky enough to become pregnant, carry a living being within our bodies, then raise that living being to be a caring individual. Yes, I will admit, I want a man to help me, yearn for a partner in my life, and desire to have a lifetime of joy with a man. But this also makes me strong for admitting my desires.

I did not grow up with a sister, but am fortunate to have sisters-in-law that demonstrate strength in monumental ways. I have a mother who could carry a power tool at the same time as sewing clothes. I have a mother-in-law who has had to overcome difficulties and is able to chuckle at previous moments. My best friend demonstrates strength under extreme difficulties. My female friends create a safe haven for my own strengths to be utilized, and their quiet yet patient tendencies to shine under adversity. I am surrounded by strong women with whom I learn to be strong. I am surrounded by shining stars, and happen to be raising another strong woman in her own right. And hopefully the circle will be complete some time in the distant future that she will raise her own daughter to be strong, and carry on this tradition.

Wendy - the newest member of my family

When the kids and I moved into an apartment in 2004, my son asked if we could get a dog. Problem being, our lives had changed drastically within the past 6 months before this request. I had made the difficult decision to leave my husband. With the decision to leave a bad situation, the kids and I stayed with a friend for several months as I go back on my feet. My work schedule was not reliable. I was working at Neiman Marcus at the time where I was able to have control of my schedule, but still needed to work at least one night a week. The kids were attending school and daycare full time. Our apartment was larger, and definitely fit our needs, but was not a good location to have an animal. It was not the right time to get a dog.

I told my kids when we moved into a house, we would get a dog. They persisted every once in a while. My son especially wanted an animal to cuddle with, take for walks, play with...all the fun things you imagine when talking about having a pet. And, in the fall of 2008 we moved into a house. The house was large enough for a huge mastiff if we wanted, had a doggy door, and a big back yard to run around in. By this time, life had changed. I was no longer working for Neiman Marcus with evening shifts. I was now working Monday through Friday, 8-5. But that Monday through Friday schedule was much longer than just 8-5. We would need to leave the house at 6:30am to get the kids to school, and not return home until around 6:30pm. The kids were older, and not attending daycare any longer. They were now members at a local Boys & Girls Club. But that did not mean they would get home before I did to spend time with the dog. Weekends would be the only time we could devote to a new member of our household. But, with an animal needing and deserving the same attention as a child, this would not be a good scenario.

We were lucky to have my father-in-law bring his dogs over to the house. His dogs - Josie, Ashley, and Gypsy - were always welcome in our home, and made a few visits to the kids. As our time in the house progressed we lost Josie to old age, and Ashley was very shy around people after the loss. Gypsy, being a chihuahua, was just spunky and not sure what to think when dropped off. The kids were able to have this exposure, however, and learn more about dogs.

Our time in the house ended. I miss this house, and all the kooky nooks and crannies! I miss the space, and the feeling of being home. We recently moved into a townhouse that is not terrible, but still becoming acquainted with the new digs. 2 weeks before moving into the townhouse, I started a new job which was much closer to home, a better schedule for both the kids and me. And a month after moving, I started feeling the strong urge to get a dog. There were all these fabulous (new job), not as fabulous (new place to live), and difficult at the time (breakup with a boyfriend) that had occurred in 6 weeks span of time. So much has changed in my life, and even the difficult times I have experienced have really turned out for the best. Yes, it is hard not being in the house, but it is only drywall and wood. Yes, it was difficult going through a breakup, but in hindsight I learned so much about myself through the relationship, through the breakup, and am thankful to be in a much better place now. It seemed the perfect time to find a dog.

Enter friend Jessica Higgins. Around the same time, Jessica was looking for a new dog. We had gone to a local rescue farm and found her new dog, Luke. Luke was very much the protector of Carrie, owner of the farm. He watched her every move to make sure she was okay. When it came time to select a dog, I told Jessica that Luke would be a great match simply due to his level of protection he demonstrated. While at the farm, I found the sweetest dog named Lois. If I was not the level headed person I am, who is cautious with every turn, I would have walked away that day with her. But, being the person I am, I thought about this decision. I prayed about this decision, and realized I was not ready. Taking an animal home to me is the same as bringing a new baby into my home. It will take dedication, time, energy, and passion. Preparation was needed. Lois was extremely sweet and with a great disposition. She was beautiful with freckles on her nose. But she was also a larger dog that would need room. She was still in a chewing phase that I would not be keen on. I kept my eye on the website for the rescue farm, looking at the dogs to see if one was perfect.

Jessica and I took a trip out to the farm on 4th of July weekend, and I met Wendy. I had gone out to see another dog named Charlie. Charlie was very sweet, and a bit shy around new people. But Wendy was similar to Luke. Wendy watched Carrie with love. Wendy was very calm and sat down next to us, resting her legs, and not being forceful in her need to be noticed. As I did for Jessica, she did for me. "Ruthe, you HAVE to get Wendy!"

That day I made the decision to bring Wendy home! She needed to stay at the farm for a month due to some travel the kids and I would be doing, but she was ours. And last night, we picked her up, brought her home, and welcomed her into our family. As we were driving away from the farm, the place that had been Wendy's home for a few months, she settled between Emi and Ty. She rest her head on Emi's lap as we were driving away, and seemed very comfortable with her new situation. There will be an adjustment period for Wendy, and for us. We are getting to know her little spirit, and she will be learning ours. But we are so happy to have her come into our home and offer her love. She will be there for the kids as a friend and companion. She will hopefully grow to an old age and have a happy life with us. We are elated to have her as the newest member of our family.

Motley Crew

I went on a trip with the kids to California this past weekend. They are staying for a week to see their dad, aunties, uncles, cousins, grandparents. It was an amazing time for me. Very healing in so many ways to spend time with them.


I went to the beach with my sister-in-law Krista, my nephews, Jared, and the kids. Our motley crew family. To be able to see my kids together with their dad was great. To spend time with Jared and talk to him was therapeutic. To have my kids hang out with both parents, at the same time, at the beach, getting along and laughing together was the most beautiful expression of love I could offer them. I have tried to always maintain a level of peace for the kids when dealing with Jared. The issues we may have had should not be their concern, or a thought that presses on them daily. These issues are our adult issues. Two adults who started out being in love, and making decisions after all this time from a place of love.


For a majority of the world, being friends with your ex, or your ex in-laws is out of the question. There are battles with who was right, who was wrong. Battles of who did what, who didn't do something, what was said, what wasn't said. But, for us, we let all this go. That is what family is about, what love is about; overlooking flaws to see the true person, good or bad, and loving them in spite of the flaws the may have.

My marriage to Jared was not a happy one. There were more disappointments, hardships, and pain than fulfilment, happiness, and contentment. Some days I didn't know if I would survive until the evening because of how hard things were; other days I would be afraid for the evening to end because of how great the day went. I loved him. I wanted him to be all he could be. I was young when we met. Only 19. And, 2 years later, I was married at the age of 21. I would not let my daughter marry at the age of 21, not knowing what I know now. I grew up in many ways with Jared. I had hope beyond reason, and thought there was nothing he couldn't do, that he was the most wonderful human being, until we got married. After that paper was signed, things changed. We changed. Through it all, my in-laws were there, supporting us. My sister-in-law Arin would come over, listen to my cry, comfort me, and became a friend who was able to perform the hardest task of all, love in spite of the situation. She was a saving grace in so many ways during that time. With her, I was able to let go. I was able to laugh, to enjoy myself, to be spontaneous. My other sister-in-law, Krista, would come in, help me with what needed to be done, and take care of things I was too much a wreck to do myself. A month after I left their brother, my sisters and brother-in-law gladlly took the kids and I in for a week's vacation in Huntington Beach without hesitation. They wanted us there, wanted us to spend time with them, and loved my children and I the same as they did despite the recent events.

My marriage was not perfect. It was the complete opposite of that blissful "happily ever after." I was left in shambles, a shell of a person who used to feel so many things, dream, and love. Somewhere along the way I lost who I was in tending to, taking care of, and caring for someone who was able to to things for himself, but chose not to. The hardest decision of my life was walking away from him, and leaving with the kids. It came to the point where I didn't want my daughter to grow up thinking it was okay for a man to treat her in this manner. It came to a point where I didn't want my son to grow up thinking it was okay for him to treat a woman in this manner. The second hardest day was when Jared told me he was moving to California to be closer to his family. It took me 3 years to finalize the divorce. I knew I could not go back into the marriage, but I also didn't want to succomb to feelings of failure so evident on a piece of paper.

The day my divorce was final, and I went to the hearing by myself, came home by myself to the kids I was overcome wtih shame for not being able to stay married. I was overcome wtih grief of that facade of a happy ending. I felt robbed of a life I so desparately wanted; my reality was just so not what I set out to have. In coming home to my kids, they were confused, concerned, not sure what this new status for their parents meant to them.

"Does this mean daddy is not part of our family anymore?"

How crushing to hear those words from my young children. "No, daddy will always be part of our family. Daddy is our family. Just because we don't live in the same house, or in the same state will never erase the fact he is Daddy. Things are just different than they used to be. But your family is always your family."

These are words I have never regretted saying to my children. It is the concept I have attempted to live up to every day since.

It took me several years to really forgive Jared. There were different stages of this, and it was not over night. Initially when leaving I think he believed I would come back. I think he was surprised I left in the first place. There were issues with his grief creating havoc in my life. Havoc is never a good thing when you have young kids. The summer I left him was filled wtih many tears, frustration, trips to receive restraining orders against him, police being called, and my pleas to officers arriving at my house to not use their police lights when coming to our non-emergency to some call. I didn't want my kids to wake up, see the destruction of their parents. The years that have passed have changed both Jared and me. It was only 2 years ago as I sat next to him while attending his uncle's funeral did I realize I was no longer mad, upset, frustrated, angry with him. I had let go. I had released the bitterness. I had allowed myself to heal.

Through it all, I was lucky enough to have the love and support of my family,and of his. His family was now my family. I was a part of them, and that would not change.

Fast forward to today. It has been 13 years since I married Jared. 6 years since I left Jared. 3 years since I divorced Jared. I have had to deal with the kids all on my own. I have provided their food, shelter, clothing, school items, toys, etc. all by myself. I have not asked for help in many ways other than to remain close, and always have my children know we are still a family. My sisters-in-law have always been there, willing to hold my hand. The strength they have demonstrated, the love that has been offered, the ability to overlook issues between their brother and me is nothing short of a miracle. When having a great day they are the people I want to share it with. When struggling with hardships their advice is always sought out first. I talk to my mother-in-law about the heartbreak of breaking up with my boyfriend John - the guy I dated after leaving her son. Whenever I feel I can't go any further, or start to doubt myself, they are there to pick me up. Some of the best advise I ever received came from Arin after a breakup with John. I was in shambles, feeling really sad for myself. John was the closest to a father figure my kids had, and had participated so actively in their lives. When telling Arin I didn't know how I was going to manage on my own, Arin said "Ruthe, you will be okay. It was very helpful to have John around, but you can do this on your own. You always have done this on your own. You just forgot for a few moments when allowing him to help you. And that was nice he helped, but you can do this."

I am the most blessed person I know. I am able to forgive, I am happy, I am loved. I am all of this because of my family.

Who I am

Who am I...that changes every day. I am a fighter, but I am frightened. I am a blonde by birth, dark hair by color, and white hair slowly creeping onto my scalp. I am young, but old at the same time. I am a woman but still feel like a girl. I am a mom, but still someones daughter. I am a lover without someone to love.

What I love:
- my children's giggles
- Emi's compassion
- Tyler's skepticism
- being close to my family
- seeing someone touch their own personal stars in the sky
- hearing "What a Wonderful World" by any singer
- sunsets
- having my favorite hymn played at church

What I like:
- daisies, especially Gerber daisies
- the beach, with sand between my toes and a cool breeze
- the smell of the desert after it rains
- lightening storms from the distance
- waking up next to the man I love
- long drives to clear my head
- seeing my favorite baseball teams win a big game
- sitting in a ball park during a game
- Marilyn Monroe
- Aerosmith on a long drive when I am feeling blue
- friends who are there through thick or thin
- hearing the perfect song on the radio
- hiking on a beautiful clear day
- finding jeans that fit
- opening my Bible to the perfect scripture
- gardening from seed to harvest

I am sure the list is longer than this. I am sure there are many more things I love, many more things I like. I needed a release to just remember what I have in my life that is positive, wonderful, delightful, and worth remembering.

Why I love my kids

Ask any mother if she loves her children, and you will hear a resounding yes. What a foolish thing to ask a person who has carried a child, given birth, stayed up at night, hurt when they were ill, and rejoiced when they accomplished the ability to FINALLY use a toilet!

Ask any mother how she loves her children, and the answers that are to understand. After all, this is a person who remarked on what color your spit and poop was.

Ask a mother why she loves her children, and this is where you see the most beautiful and tender path to her heart.

Emberleigh is the oldest, and the only girl. She has a spirit in her that can tame wild beasts. She is a peacemaker, a compassionate young girl who will love anything that comes her way. She is quiet, introspective at times, loves poofy girl dresses, the color pink, and thinks that people in Hollywood are wonderful. She is my twin in how she looks, in how she acts, and how she handles things. That is both a wonderful thing, and a distraction at the same time.

She has always been compassionate since the day she was born. She was born with big feet(at the age of 11 she is wearing women's 9 1/2 shoes), and an old soul. I remember commenting when she was first born that she looked like a little old man - far too wise were the eyes that looked back at me from birth. She was patient with me. I was new to being a m0mmy, and she was very willing to allow mistakes, never judge me for my incapacities as a new mother. As she has grown, she is considerate of others, thinks she can do anything...anything except cleaning and homework. I once declared to her that I would someday marry Keith Urban...and when she heard that he had married Nicole Kidman she had the compassion and love of a child to ask if I was hurt or mad at Nicole for marrying him. She has style beyond her years pulling outfits together that a grown woman would not be able to muster. She is growing into a young woman, and with that things have changed with her body. But through and through she is such a tender spirit who loves her family, and thinks the world of her friends.

Tyler is my second born, and all boy. Thank goodness for this because there is far too much estrogen in our household as it is. He was the most wonderful baby to have around - rarely cried and rarely shoved his place in the world...that is, until he turned about 18 months old. He is very much a new spirit in how he views the world. He can be impatient, and difficult at best, but also the sweetest boy any mother could call her son. He is the reason I love baseball (even if he does not like it as much as I do), and the reason I have been able to look at life in a different way.

In 2nd grade he declared he wanted to be an artist; he has the soul of an artist. He once asked me while listening to Michael Jackson's "Billy Jean" if the song was about a stalker...you can not help but love a child with such insight to the world around him. Smart as smart can be, he is astonishing at his ability to grasp new ideas. He will pull me to the side away from his sister to talk about things, just mom and Ty. These conversations range from girls, to video games, to questions about the world around him. I feel priviledged when he poses the questions to me.

As a single mom, I find being a mom at times to be difficult. I am the only one around to answer questions, to care for them in the middle of the night when they are sick, to ensure all homework is done and teeth are brushed at night. At times I am struggling to determine who I am as Ruthe, much less who I am as Mommy. But through it all, my kids are always there for me to laugh with, cry with, and share the most amazing moments of truth, love, and happiness. They allow me to view the world through new eyes, allow me to have fears and hidden secrets. They allow me to love this world I am in, for all the beauty and all the pain. They have taught me more about myself than anyone else I know, and have helped me to discover a deeper insight into this world I am in. It is hard without their father, but through it all, they have been the best decisions I was able to make. As I told a friend one day, "My children do not define what I am, but they do define who I am." I am a mom with amazing children who are the light of my day, and the glow of a moon at night.