Firstborn and Fearless

My oldest daughter, Sarah, will be turning 35, tomorrow—August 8, 2013.

It's hard for me to comprehend that she is that old—mostly because it makes me old enough to have a 35-year-old daughter.

And she has given me two of the best grandchildren for whom a grandmother can hope—Hannah Jean and Michael Rush.

Sarah, being the first child, had to put up with her mother’s, well, quirks, for lack of a better word. (idiot-syncrasies?)

Everything she touched and anyone who touched her had to be sterilized. It was so bad, that my sister-in-law, Sue Pierce (now Birkle), who was living with us in the townhouse in Montgomery, Ohio, had to move out because I was making her crazy.

Thank God I had my mother and my mother-in-law (Mary Carol Pierce, may she rest in peace) living close by to take my emergency phone calls.

Case in point, a call to my mother went something like this:

Me: “Sarah has just projectile vomited all over the kitchen!”

Ma: “Where is she now?”

“I have her secured to her changing table”

“On her back?”

“Yes.”

“What are you, nuts? She’ll choke if she vomits again!”

“Oh. My. God. I am a horrible mother!”

When Sarah was nine months old, I got pregnant with her sister, Amanda. When Amanda was two years old and Sarah barely four, we were shopping at Gold Circle in Tri-County Plaza in Cincinnati. Sarah thought it was a hoot to hide in the circular clothing displays and jump out at me.

At one point, Sarah stopped jumping out at me. I searched all of the clothing displays in the area, and was starting to freak out more than just a little.

Then, over the store loudspeaker, I hear this: “Will the mother of Sarah Kathryn Pierce please come to the Customer Service desk at the front of the store to claim her daughter?”

I am thankful my four-year old was savvy enough to find her way there, and was not snatched along the way. Thankful. Every. Day. Needless to say, although I AM saying it, I kept an eagle eye on that child from then on.

As she grew older, she posed more of a challenge, as the oldest child usually does. The oldest is the “practice child.” You work out all the kinks in your parenting style.

Thankfully, she has always had a marvelous sense of humor.

She’s shorter than my other two daughters are. Shorter than most people, I think. Amanda is about 5’9” and Samantha, my youngest, is even taller. I used to look at her when we were asked to stand up in church for prayer or a hymn and say, “Sarah, stand up!” even though she already was. It stopped being funny very quickly.

She also has one heck of a temper. Do NOT mess with her family. Sam, the youngest, had a fear of condiments when she was a child—especially catsup. If we went through a drive-thru and they put anything but pickles on Sam’s hamburger, Sarah would leap from the car and read the manager the riot act. (Sarah was a manager with McDonald’s for years and knew the drill.)

My favorite memory of Sarah, besides being present at the birth of both my grandchildren, is driving with her in her car when we lived in Columbus. All of a sudden, my car window rolled down.

Me: “Why’d you open my window?”

Sarah: “I didn’t!”

Then the window rolled halfway up.

Then it rolled down again. And it kept right on doing this until we got back to the house.

We got to laughing so hard at the haunted car window that we were in tears.

Then there was the time she went to the local do-it-yourself car wash and took our dachshund, Gretel, with her. Gretel stepped on the door-locking button while Sarah was washing the car. Sarah spent I don’t know how long trying to talk the dog into unlocking the door by stepping on the button again. I think she finally flagged down a cop.

Thirty-five years. Half a lifetime for some. My wish and prayer for Sarah on her birthday is this:

• Love God.

• Be you.

• Be happy.

• Love your children.

• Love your mother.

• And, if possible … become a millionaire so you can support me in my advancing years.

I love you with all my heart.

Happy Birthday, firstborn and fearless!

On the Occasion of My 50th Birthday, I Offer This . . .

I will be turning 50 in less than two weeks.

Now, normally, this is when I would run my annual “Aging Gracefully . . . or Gratefully” post—a perennial favorite among the well-read (in my own mind.)

But this year, I’ve decided it is time to share some of the things I know to be true and other things I’ve found to be just plain hooey.

I love adages. I love words, grand, lofty thoughts, pithy comments from famous and infamous people. I collect quotes; own numerous books of quotes and who said what tomes—I am fascinated by the clever turn of a phrase.

Some “clevernalities”—as I call them—are true—some are patent falsehoods. This is what I have learned after half a century of living:

a) Silence is golden. No, silence is yellow. Silence is cowardly. Silence betrays a shallow heart, devoid of feeling—a fear a retribution. Speak up! Raise your voice in praise to God. Shout from the rooftops when you’re in love. Loudly decry the injustice in prejudice and bigotry. Shout your protest when an animal is mistreated, a child is abused or neglected, another human is bullied, betrayed, battered, or beaten into subservience.

b) The best things in life are free. No, freedom demands hard work, constant diligence, and sacrifice.

c) People are basically good. I wish this was true. I have lived five decades believing in the innate goodness of “man.” I have been proven wrong time and time again. As much as I hate to “pen” this, I must—the majority of people I have known in my life will lie, cheat, and steal to get what they want. Some of them will brag about it—wear their ability to dupe the general public like a badge of honor. There is a possibility of goodness within all of us—we are made in the image of God, the Author of all that is good. But, people are basically lazy, and it is far easier to lie, cheat, and steal then it is to be good. The world tells us good is boring—bad is sexy, bad is cool, bad is better. Mae West voiced the opinion of the world best: “When I’m good, I’m very, very good, but when I’m bad, I’m better.” Sorry, Mae darling, it is a funny line, but it is certainly not a life lesson.

d) Beauty is only skin deep. Oh my no. Although I have seen and experienced a lifetime of ugliness, there are some absolutely and divinely beautiful men and women who are lovely to the depths of their souls. Here’s the short list: my father, Harold; my mother, Beverlee; Ken; my brothers, Steve and Thomas; my sisters, Kim and Barb; my daughters, Sarah, Amanda, and Samantha; my grandmother, “Nana”; my friends, past and present—Daniel Silver, Mary Alice O’Connor, Elise Shelton, Rita Lester, Helen Spicer, Rick and Amy Hassebrock, Brad and Tara Bolsinger, Rita Bennett, Elizabeth Nason, Peggy Hildebrand, Molly Pelon, Kitty Morrell—I love you all.

e) Love is blind. Oh no. “Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails . . .” (I Corinthians 13: 4-8, NIV). Love has its eyes wide open and will rush into action, blind only to the consequences to itself—the lover—thinking only of the beloved.

f) Honesty is the best policy. Unequivocally, yes. Certainly it is easier to lie than to tell the truth. It is easier to waffle, to hem and haw, to conceal—oh vastly! But herein lies the rub: dishonesty reveals one’s contempt for the person from whom one is withholding the truth—“They won’t understand”; “It will hurt their feelings”; “I am being kind”; “I am protecting them”; “You can’t handle the truth!” But tell me, which is better: to tell the truth, to face the consequences, to help that person handle that truth, or, to be found out in a lie, to be branded a liar? When, then, should you be believed?

g) Laughter is the best medicine. Yeah, that one is definitely true. Laughter increases blood flow to your skin, lending you that healthy glow. Laughter raises your serotonin level—that hormone that gives you a sense of well-being. Laughter brings people closer and draws people toward you. A baby’s laugh is priceless and puts a smile on the face of even the most hard-hearted. A child’s laughter is a delight and a treasure and should be cultivated and preserved.

h) No man is an island. Granted, some “men” ought to be restrained on an island, alone, sans contact with anyone living. But what we do or do not do in our own life has an effect on everyone around us. It is the basis of the “butterfly effect” and the “one-hundredth monkey effect” theories. Look it up, people. Which brings me to this last truth . . .

i) Knowledge is power. Yes! Gone are the days when the dimwitted girl is considered the desirable and most feminine woman. Thank heaven for that. Knowledge increases your ability to function physically, mentally, socially, and emotionally. The more you know, the better equipped you are to cope, to grow, to be an asset to someone else. Do not dumb yourself down. Do not dumb-down your writing, your speech, your thoughts, or your actions. Force those around you to think, to investigate, to probe, to question, to analyze, to debate. Make them powerful.

Fifty years of wisdom condensed into less than a thousand words. I am looking forward, not to growing older—ick—but to growing smarter, to laughing loudly, to loving longer and stronger, to not going gentle into that good night . . .

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

Womanly Wisdom from my Aunt Pam

• Women over 50 don't have babies because they would put them down and forget where they left them.
• A friend of mine confused her Valium with her birth control pills. She has 14 kids but doesn't really care.
• One of life's mysteries is how a two-pound box of chocolates can make a woman gain five pounds.
• My mind not only wanders, it sometimes leaves completely.
• The best way to forget your troubles is to wear tight shoes.
• The nice part about living in a small town is that when you don't know what you are doing, someone else does.
• The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight because by then your body and your fat are really good friends.
• Just when I was getting used to yesterday, along came today.
• Sometimes I think I understand everything, and then I regain consciousness.
• I gave up jogging for my health when my thighs kept rubbing together and setting fire to my knicker's.
• Amazing! You hang something in your closet for a while and it shrinks two sizes!
• Skinny people irritate me! Especially when they say things like, "You know sometimes I forget to eat!" Now I've forgotten my address, my mother's maiden name and my keys, but I have never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat!
• I read this article that said the typical symptoms of stress are eating too much, impulse buying, and driving too fast. Are they kidding? That's my idea of a perfect day!