Never Really Mine

Well, it's over. Last night my sister and I divided up my Mom's jewelry. I got the Sicilian Hex ring, as I had wanted. I also got a little ring for my daughter to have when she gets older. My sister's daughter took the diamond bracelet my mom always wore. It looked so pretty on my niece that I almost cried. She looks more like my mom than my sister or me. It just looked "right" on her wrist. The division went off with little "to-do". I think I had prepared myself for it and just kinda went numb.

I looked at the ring for a long time tonight, even wearing it on my finger for awhile. But it didn't feel like it belonged to me. Maybe if my mother had actually given it to me at some point in time, I'd feel like it did. But dividing it up last night at my kitchen table did not make it feel like mine. It feels like me, wearing my mother's ring. I felt the same way when I watched the little velvet bag with the rest of the jewelry plop into my sister's purse. It felt like she was taking Mom's things. It felt like we all were.

I will always treasure the ring. I will think of the Sicilian Hex story often as I wear it. I will use it to honor my mother's memory, and keep the stories alive. Maybe the ring shouldn't feel like mine. Maybe it should always be hers.

I'm just glad it's over.

Quotes I Like

"I love you more than life itself...but you're all mad."
-Ozzy, speaking to his family

Here Lies Mary

Ever since I was little my dad always told me that when something goes wrong or maybe unexpected in my day, not to feel sorry for myself or walk around saying how rotten my luck is, but instead to think about what lesson I learned from the experience, or what God is trying to tell me. In my own life, I have incorporated with that, the fact that I strongly believe in karma, and that a lot of the bad things that happen to us in life are direct results of wishing bad things on people, cheating, or lying.

Well, I haven't done any of those things lately, so I've concluded that what happened to me today must have been God trying to teach me something.

I'm off work today, and had planned to make the most of my day. I got up relatively early and headed for the grocery store. It was one of those weeks that I needed to make a really big run. While I was there, I saw the loveliest bunch of peach colored roses on the clearance table, and decided this might be a good day to drive over to the cemetery and place them on my mother's grave.

So after I finished at the grocery store, I made the short drive to the cemetery. I won't lie....I don't like to go there. I know my mother isn't there, but it is a place to honor her, and two or three times a year, on a whim, I like to ride over and place something on her stone.

When I pulled up, I felt the anxiety start to build, and I decided I would make this trip very quick. I left the keys hanging in the ignition, and walked up to the gravesite. After a few words to my mom and a few tears, I laid the flowers across her stone and headed back to the car. When I got there, I had a sickening discovery. The doors on my car were locked. Not only were my keys hanging in the ignition, but my purse, my cell phone, and about $230 worth of groceries were inside.

After trying all the doors and the hatch, I finally conceeded that I was indeed locked out of my car. I decided to walk up to the cemetery offices, in hopes they'd let me use a telephone to call AAA. With temperatures on the rise, I hoped they'd get there quickly before milk and lunch meat started to spoil.

As I walked the distance to the office, I felt frustrated. Of all the days! And all the places to be stuck! And my groceries! My kids were home alone. What if there were an emergency and they were trying to call me? But suddenly, frustration started to subside, and I started thinking about my dad, and his philosophy on "bad luck".

Inside, I met the nicest lady. Her name was Judy. She got me a bottle of water, and insisted I sit down in the cool office for a bit. She told me she would have her maintenece crew come take a look at my car. She knew they had a tool for popping locks. The guys showed up and once again, couldn't have been nicer. With sweat pouring off him, the fellow finally gave up and said I should go on and call AAA.

Another trip walking back up to the office, and precious minutes ticking away on my groceries, but I remained calm. AAA said they'd have a truck out for me in less than 30 minutes. Judy offered to let me sit in her office, but still convinced God had some type of lesson for me, I declined the offer and went outside.

At first I just stood there. Then a relief carving of the Last Supper caught my eye. It was under a giant oak tree and there was plenty of shade. I walked over and studied it for awhile, deciding to touch the hand of Jesus before I left.

Then I spotted another large oak, several yards away. Something was calling me to walk to it, so that's what I did. As I walked, I started looking at all the headstones along the way. That's when I realized God's plan for me today.

The first head stone was for a boy named Jason. I noticed he was 20 years old when he died. I wondered what had happened to him. "Beloved Son and Brother". I thought about how sad his family must have felt.

Next, I noticed a vase had fallen over, and all the flowers it contained had spilled out. I walked over and picked it all back up and put it in place. They belonged to someone named Mr. White. I wondered about him too.

As I walked along, I noticed most stones had some type of art carved into them. Lots of crosses, angels, bibles, and pictures of God and Jesus, but lots of other things too. Many had wedding rings intertwined. "Together Forever". Some had dates that people had married. Some had religious symbols that weren't really familiar to me. But there were other things that were more interesting; such as a Masonic symbol, a police badge, a butterfly, a peace symbol, a hummingbird, an antique car, a Hang Loose symbol (from Hawaii), and a cat. Those are only the ones I can remember. I didn't have paper with me to write them all down.

I thought to myself, these are the things that were important in these people's lives. This is a symbol of the footprint they leave behind. I began to wonder about my own legacy. What would be important enough to me to carve on my head stone? What words would be there? What symbols? I just kept thinking I wanted it to be something more than "She sure loved her cat".

As I pondered that question, I saw the AAA truck turn the corner. The driver told me this was some type of safety feature on my car. It locks when you leave the keys in the ignition. I guess it's so someone can't steal your car, but it was an inconvenience to me. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe I need to think about my life, and the legacy I want to leave when I exit this world. And I think that's what I'll do.

Let's Just Get This Over With

Later this week my sister and her daughter will both be in town for a visit. While they are here, one of the things on the list is to divide up my mom's jewelry. It's been over three years now since Mom died, and the jewelry is still right where my dad put it all--in a little velvet bag with a rope on it.

I realize it's just material things, and it means nothing to Mom anymore, but for some reason, the thought of dividing up her things just seems wrong to me. It's going to be very uncomfortable. I almost feel like we're pillaging her possessions. And somehow I feel a sadness for my Dad in all this. Like maybe he's thinking "Let the greedy daughters take what they want and go."

My mom didn't have a lot of expensive jewelry. In fact, the only thing I want is the Sicilian Hex ring ("My Mom" dated August 14, 2009). I'd like for my daughter to have a little something too. Other than that, they can have it all. I just want this to be over with, and I don't want there to be any arguing or hard feelings. It's not worth it. And I don't want to do this around my Dad. I think it would hurt him. And I'm quite sure if even one harsh word is spoken by any of us, he would snap. I hope they will just come to my house and let's get it done.

It would have been nice if Mom had written down her wishes for all her personal things, but she didn't. My sister says she has a document that my mom gave her at some point, but she doesn't know where it is. This only complicates things, because she thinks she knows who's supposed to get what....but she isn't sure.

I'll say it again....I just want this to be over.

Get To Know Your Food

Ever wonder how margarine is made?

Many people probably know it is made by a process called hydrogenation. But few are aware of the details of what goes on during hydrogenation.

Here is a step-by-step description of the hydrogenation process.

How is margarine made: Step 1

Margarine makers start with cheap, poor quality vegetable oils, such as corn, cottonseed, soybeans, safflower seeds and canola.

These oils have already turned rancid from being extracted from oil seeds using high temperature and high pressure. Rancid oils are loaded with free radicals that react easily with other molecules, causing cell damage, premature aging and a host of other problems.

The last bit of oil is removed with hexane, a solvent known to cause cancer. Although this hexane subsequent removed, traces of it are inevitably left behind.

Moreover, some of these oils are not suitable for human consumption to begin with.

Cottonseed oil, one of the most popular margarine ingredients, has natural toxins and unrefined cottonseed oil is used as a pesticide. The toxin, gossypol, is removed during refining.

As cotton is one of the most heavily sprayed crops, there are also concerns that cottonseed oil may be highly contaminated with pesticide residues. However, insufficient testing has been done.

Canola oil, which is widely touted as the healthiest oil of all, has problems as well. Consumption of Canola has been linked with vitamin E deficiency as well as growth retardation. For this reason, Canola oil is not allowed to be used in the manufacture of infant formula.

The oils used for making margarine are also among the Big Four genetically modified crops – soy, corn, rapeseed / Canola and cotton.

How is margarine made: Step 2

The raw oils for making margarine are steam cleaned. This destroys all the vitamins and antioxidants.

However, the residues of pesticides and solvents – that is, hexane – remain.

How is margarine made: Step 3

The oils are mixed with finely ground nickel, a highly toxic substance that serves as a catalyst for the chemical reaction during the hydrogenation process.

Other catalysts may be used, but these, too, are highly toxic.

How is margarine made: Step 4

The oils are then put under high temperature and pressure in a reactor.

Hydrogen gas is introduced. The high temperature and pressure, together with the presence of nickel catalyst, causes hydrogen atoms to be forced into the oil molecules.

If the oil is partially hydrogenated, it turns from liquid into a semi-solid.

Trans fats are formed during partial hydrogenation. These are fat molecules that have been twisted out of shape. In liquid oils, the molecules are bent, with the hydrogen atoms on opposite sides of each other.

During partial hydrogenation, the molecules are somewhat straightened and now all the hydrogen molecules are on the same side.

If the oil is fully hydrogenated, it turns into a hard solid that cannot be eaten. It no longer contains trans fats because the "out of shape” oil molecules have all been broken up to form straight chains. But this does not mean they have become healthy again because of all the unnatural steps above.

How is margarine made: Step 5

What comes out of the partial hydrogenation process is a smelly, lumpy, grey grease.

To remove the lumps, emulsifiers – which are like soaps – are mixed in.

How is margarine made: Step 6

The oil is steam cleaned (again!) to remove the odor of chemicals. This step is called deodorization and it again involves high temperature and high pressure.

How is margarine made: Step 7

The oil is then bleached to get rid of the grey color.

How is margarine made: Step 8

Synthetic vitamins and artificial flavors are mixed in.

A natural yellow color is added to margarine, as synthetic coloring is not allowed!

In fact, early last century, all coloring was not allowed and margarine was white. This was to protect consumers so that they do not get butter and margarine mixed up.

How is margarine made: Step 9

Finally, the margarine is promoted to the public as a health food – with the full endorsement of many scientists, doctors, nutritionists and health authorities.

-Source: http://www.stop-trans-fat.com/

Like so, so many of the products we consume today, margarine is not even a real food. Butter, made with cream, is a real food. Eat real food.

R.I.P.

A wonderful thing happened yesterday. Our television died. I came home and my husband prepared me for it the way you'd prepare someone if you were about to tell them the dog ran out in the street and got hit by a car. For a minute, we both sat there staring at the picture as it spun around in a circle. We just stared and stared, like it was suddenly going to get better. It did not. We said some words over the body..."Well, it lasted eight years. That's a long time for electronics these days." "Well, it was really looking outdated anyway. It was quite large and today's sets are much smaller." "We got a lot of good years from it. MAYBE it can be fixed!" Then (and that's where the wonderful part comes in), we turned it off! Silence for a minute, then my husband went to the cabinet and selected some Beatles music. He turned it on, and we sat on the couch together, listening to it. It was just like the old days, back when we were dating. We'd say "There's a lot of George in that song", or "I'm sure Paul wrote that." "Don't forget to give credit to George Martin".

It was a great night. Frankly, I hope we don't replace the television for awhile!

Peace In The Pool

During my recent trip to Florida, I wound up having a morning all to myself. I ended up at the pool, and I was the only person there. At first I felt uncomfortable, and a little bored. Then, I had a phone conversation with Sally, who suggested I use the time to meditate, pray, and ask God for peace. And in typical Sally fashion, I knew she meant that I ask it not once, but several times...and out loud.

So I got in the pool and began to swim long, slow laps from one end of the pool to the other. As I swam, I tried to release all negative energy from my body and I said out loud "God, please help me find peace. In this minute...in this hour...in this day...in this week. And please give me the ability to recognize it when you show it to me". I said this prayer out loud, over and over, and over again, until I began to find peace. Until I began to relax my mind and my body.

In our culture, we are busy all the time. There's always noise; either from people talking, the television, music, or traffic. But in many other cultures and religions, people understand the value of meditation, prayer, and silence. Some people go so far as to spend weeks or months in temples and ashrams, in silence--in prayer. Being alone, being quiet, and opening our minds and our bodies are way more powerful than we may realize.

In the days following the quiet time at the pool, I have repeated that prayer dozens and dozens of times. Thank you Sally, for once again pointing out the simplicity of finding God, who is always in us, around us, through us, near us, and within us, just waiting for us to reach out and ask for what we need.