Goodnight Irene

One of my favorite poets once wrote, “Time stands still best in the moments that look suspiciously like ordinary life.”  No one knew this better than my mom.  My mom saw the beauty in things that most people wouldn’t notice.  Did you know that my mom loves trees?  Every time she saw a beautiful, twisted trunk, or roots reaching from beneath the ground, she would stop immediately to take its picture.  Or maybe you weren’t aware that mom would go out of her way not to kill a living object, regardless of how creepy or crawly it was.  As a kid, I would be so grossed out watching her secure a critter with her hands or a cup and gently escort it outdoors to its safety.  As an adult, I simultaneously smile and roll my eyes as I find myself doing the same thing, thinking of all the creatures I’ve saved in her honor.  And to mom, there was no moment too small, no moment too insignificant, no moment too ordinary that it didn’t deserve to be captured by camera, frozen in time for us to enjoy again and again.

Yes, my mom was able to appreciate the ordinary, but my mom was far from ordinary.  In fact, she was extraordinary.  I’ve spent a lifetime wondering if there was anything she couldn’t do.  For over 30 years, I’ve looked on in awe at the woman who has been, not only the rock of our family, but seemingly the rock for so many of you, as well.  And while I know each of us has a story of how she has touched our lives or how she has helped during a time of need, mom’s extraordinary impact goes far beyond what she has done for each of us.  Mom’s lasting impact is in the way she could light up any room with her smile or squeeze away any worry with her hugs.  Her legacy is her ability to see the positive in every situation and in each one of us.  But mostly, her legacy is in her capacity to love, and especially the love she showed our family.  To my dad – for over 36 years, she stood by your side, loving you unconditionally and fully through everything life and marriage could send your way.  To my brother – we couldn’t have asked for a better mother.  That’s evident in the amazing man, husband and father you are today.  And to my Kayla – Gum’s angel – there are no words to describe what you meant to her.  No words to describe how much she loved being your grandmother, a role in which she was truly extraordinary.

So, in honor of my mom, I ask each of you to consider the following:  Maybe what made my mom so extraordinary was her ability to fully embrace the ordinary that most of us take for granted each day.  So, today: stop.  Stop in your tracks; look around.  Find that which is most suspiciously ordinary and give it extra consideration.  Listen for my mom’s voice.  She’ll guide you right to what is most beautiful about it, and I promise you, it’ll be extraordinary.

Ecuador: The Adventure Hat

Thirty minutes into my 33rd birthday, I boarded a plane with 11 LMU students and one faculty member to head south to Ecuador for a week of service and reflection. Before we shuffled onto the plane, the group serenaded me with a rousing round of "Happy Birthday" as we stood in line to board. And once on the plane, after a little pleading with the man in 7F to switch seats with me so that I could sit by the pack, I settled into my seat and quickly passed out. For the past few weeks, I've been solidly asleep by 10 pm, so to be up and functioning past midnight was quite the feat. All things considered, I got a pretty decent rest for the good part of four hours, waking occasionally to adjust my positioning or awaken whichever limb had fallen asleep. I'm pretty sure that if I could find a travel seat cushion to protect the top of my bum from aching, I could probably stay asleep for an entire flight. Alas, with an achey arse, I awoke as we began our descent into Guatemala City - our stopover during the first leg of our travels.

The view from seat 7F was beautiful. As we descended closer to the clouds, a volcano appeared, peeking its head above as if to remind air travelers of its ominous presence. I snapped some pictures, brought my seat back to its upright position and listened to my playlist come to an end just as we touched down on new soil.

There were many benefits to swapping seats for the front of the plane, including making sure none of the students got off the aircraft. Since this was just a stopover for us, we weren't to disembark the plane, but sure enough, the first I had to stop was Schultzy, suited up in his self-named "adventure hat" (an LMU baseball cap) and fumbling toward the exit despite me and Kelley still being buckled up in our seats. Next to try to escape was Mark, one of our fearless leaders. "Mark, we don't get off here. We stay on until Costa Rica." "This is Costa Rica." "No, sweet pea. This is Guatemala." when your trip leader doesn't know in which country you are, it might be a good idea to worry.

Fortunately, we kept everyone on the plane and the only catastrophe was when Schultzy knocked his head into the overhead TV causing the adventure hat to topple. Mark and Kelley made a valiant effort at trying to convince me that they could now claim Guatemala as a place they've visited (an argument, I'm not sad to report, they lost). But as I watched us slowly taxi passed the row of hangars before the wheels pulled up as we continued our journey toward Costa Rica, I watched Guatemala get further away and thought about how far I'd come in 33 years.

Secret Blogger

Sitting in the WACUHO Exec Board meeting, and we started talking about blogs.  Made me remember that I fancy myself a secret blogger, but it's not supposed to be secret from myself!  Where have I been?  What has kept me from the blog?  Maybe (when I am no longer sitting in a business meeting) I'll muster the energy to come back and leave some memories behind.