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Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Stealing the Purpose



My niece Sara recently posted a video on Facebook about a visit to Publix.  We’re a family of independent women (well, other than I am hopeless with any home or craft projects and always am begging for help there) and to have someone push our grocery cart to the car when we are perfectly capable of doing it ourselves just seems wrong. She was a bit stunned to realize that when the cashier said she was happy to take her groceries to the car, she really meant it. The cashier really liked that part of her job. To say no hurt her feelings a bit. Providing that kind of customer service is important to Publix and their company culture is based on it (well, at least they said that when they moved into Statesville). I suspect it does make their employees happier.. There is joy in doing nice things for other people or in knowing your work brought a smile to someone’s face. Sata said yes and they had a good discussion about being willing to receive help.

I hate when I hear a friend has struggled in some area where it would have been simple for me to help. It’s a bit deflating...because I feel they don’t trust me as a friend. I believe that’s part of friendship...and part of family. When I say “Call me if you need me”, I mean it. On one hand I understand they don’t want to bother me, because I do the same to others. But when they do that, they are also denying me the opportunity to care for them. And we should look out for each other. I like to take care of my friends.... or anyone who needs it.

I’m not usually the person who can often force myself into a situation. “Introvert respect”, I guess you would call it. Because sometimes I don’t want people around (such as when I am sick or in the hospital), that is my default in most relationships. I forget others are different. That sometimes people need someone just to be there for them. That sometimes people need to know people are there to care for them. And we all deserve to be cared for. Even this introvert loves her time with other people and enjoys the sweet gift of another's time or a a gesture of caring. (Just maybe not all day, every day.)

Usually when I have had friends or family that were facing a serious illness, they have never wanted people to do things for them. At least that is what they said. Maybe they would allow the closest of family, their spouse for instance, but that was it. And the spouse, already emotional themselves, was burning themself out.

Someone told me of one person, though, that started making lists. She was sick, but she understood the need of people to show her they loved her....and it was great. If you asked if there was anything you could do for her, she would get out her list and say “If you could get me a box of notecards and some stamps, that would be great” or “How about bringing dinner on Friday? If I feel well enough, I’d love you to stay and eat with us, but also know I may not feel up to it. Can we play that part by ear?” or “The kids really could use a fun activity. Can you plan something?” or “We’re about out of toilet paper. Could you pick us up a few rolls?” or “We’re going to be away for three days for these treatments. Could you get our mail?” She kept people bustling and they kept going back for more. It was a sweet time for all....and they bonded more because of it. She created community....and they all got through it together.

I admit I am usually bad at this sort of thing....both giving and receiving. I want to give, but for most people I am always hesitant. I make feeble attempts, but have no great thoughts of what people really need. It’s like my brain becomes paralyzed. Plus I am a bad shopper....so hate things like gift giving. I like practical tasks.

I’m not always good at receiving either. Yet sometimes I need someone to keep me on task. To sit there and make sure I stay focused on things. Or frankly, sometimes “the overwhelms” hit and I need them to do it for me.

For a certain period of time in my life, I moved five times in five years. Most of those were company moves, so they would often do the packing and moving part. But I couldn’t let them unpack for me (even the times the company had included that) because I get a bit freaked out about the moving process. I don’t know what I would have done without family and friends. More than once my mom unpacked my kitchen and put those things away for me. A kitchen that is put together goes a long way to making you feel at home. My dad would set up the washer and dryer. My college roommate Ann came for several moves and once, after repeated attempts by me to distract her and get her to go do fun things instead of unpacking, she said to me “Go get a book, and sit in that chair, be quiet, and read. I am going to unpack boxes.” And unpack she did. What a wonderful gift. And she seemed to like going through my stuff and putting it away. Or maybe she liked doing things for her friend. I suspect it may be more of the latter....though I prefer to think the former, as though I was giving her a gift in letting her unpack for me and put my home together!
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We are meant for community.  Communities are at their best when they give to each other and receive. The healthiest have balance, and all give and are at times in a position to receive, During my 20s none of my friends could afford movers. Many Saturdays were spent with a crowd of us getting together to help someone move. It was even fun.My roommate and I had a paint party when we moved into a new house. I never lifted a paintbrush. If anyone knows of my painting skills, you know my friends were saving me from myself. Instead I cooked....and went from room to room talking and laughing with everyone. It was a great time and produced some fun memories.

I have made a large number of my friends while volunteering. Some of the activities were not pleasant or generally my idea of a good time. But for some reason we had fun. A job needed to be done and we did it together. Or we did it for a good cause. Because someone couldn’t do it for themself. Or because they needed a reason to smile.

I love the concept of random acts of kindness. I think my 2018 goal is to do more of them. To find a need and meet it. To find someone who has lost their smile, and help them find it. So often the smallest of things can pick someone up.

I was at work many years ago and one of the gentlemen who worked with me came by to see if I had change for a dollar. I was fighting severe migraines at the time (later I figured out they were caused by the sugarless mints I had been eating) and was feeling horrible. He didn’t know this, but was simply his normal warm self. He walked out of my office and I burst into tears. I remember it still 30 years later. Those were tears of thanksgiving....he was simply kind on a day I needed kindness (even if he thought he was just getting change for a dollar.) Those simple interactions can change the course of someone’s day. Do you remember some of those times in your own life? If not, think on things a bit.....and remember.

Let us be thankful for each other. Let us give.....and receive. Because sometimes receiving gives someone a wonderful gift. Purpose.Don't steal it from them.

Friday, November 17, 2017

Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

It’s your birthday. The first one you are spending in heaven. A bit better than last year, huh? I know from my Facebook memories we were praying you would pass the swallow test. I am glad we did not know what would come ahead. Having hope was good.

It’s your first birthday since I have been born I haven’t gotten to speak to you. Well, except for that first year of my life when I was almost four months old and I may have babbled. But you still got the message that year, didn’t you? I may have babbled to you at other times. I seem to remember you mentioning it. You usually tolerated it well. And heard me out and pretended it made sense.

Birthdays weren’t important to you. They really weren’t. The years I was in college and the years I lived out of town and called and asked to speak to you (I always had to ask for you, because if anyone else was in the house, you would not answer the phone), you would listen to my exuberant birthday wishes, say a bemused “Thank you, Kimberley” and then “Do you want to talk to your mother?” You’d not wait for my answer, but hand the phone back to her.  It always made us laugh. Talking on the phone was not your thing. Even to your most precious daughter. You didn’t see the sense of having a long conversation on it.

You didn’t get traditional birthday cakes. That was not what you loved and Mom indulged you. You preferred an apple pie or a cobbler. With vanilla ice cream, of course. Maybe an apple cake. Never the frothed up and iced up traditional birthday cake with candles.

To be the center of attention and the recipient of the Happy Birthday song? I suspect it was torture for you. (I kind of understand that one.) As we kids got older I don’t recall us doing it often. But then the next generation came and you had to suffer through it again for your grandchildren's sake. I think that was far more tolerable for you. You did love those grandchildren.....and you had mellowed out about such things so I don't think you suffered much then. You enjoyed their enjoyment of celebration.

You being you, and our family being our family, it is not a big birthday celebration for you I miss today, because our birthday celebrations are usually reserved for kids. But this, the anniversary of the day you were born (or was it?....there was a bit of confusion there), you have been on my mind all day. Work has been busy, so that took a lot of my attention. But you were with me all day. I could have spent the whole day grieving your death, but if my mind went there I stopped it. Grieving on this day misses the most important point.

While you didn’t particularly get much pleasure out of your birthday, I do. Your birthday was my gift. I am privileged to be your daughter. I was able to celebrate your birth in some way with you (even if it was only a 15-second phone call) for 56 years. So many don’t get that chance. You were a good man. Someone consistent in how they lived their life. Someone I could always count on. Stubborn as a mule. The least funny person in our family (bless your heart.) Tolerant of the humor of the rest of us....even if at your expense...though mostly you ignored our funny selves. You were one of the smartest people I have ever met and someone who always just dealt with the logic. You didn’t get the emotional side of life much. But you took care of us well and kept us on an even keel. We were loved purely and without doubt. In the Dad lottery, I got you. The best prize.

So to apply logic to it all, in my own way, this should not be a day about your death at all, but a day to celebrate your birth.  I am so glad you were born. I am glad you chose to have children and gave me life. I am grateful for all the memories...and all the things you taught me. (Like how to stalk people with cameras. And the finer points of basketball.) You took fatherhood seriously. You took most things seriously. You were stable and honest. You didn’t waste time on anxiety. It served you well. It served us all well.  I’m trying to emulate that....though I don’t have it quite to your level.

I asked Mom if we should do anything to commemorate your day. She said she would prefer it be quiet. Surely that is what you would have wanted. You were private and quiet. Well, unless we were in trouble. Then you could get very loud.

Today I am remembering those things that remind me of you, and I am smiling. A few tears may be leaking out, but I am trying to keep them to a minimum. Your birth day was a great day. Something to be celebrated, not mourned. Maybe sometime I will come up with a cool way to celebrate this day in a special way. For now, I’ll celebrate quietly. Or try. You know us McKinneys. We’re not that great being quiet.

You changed the world. In a very good and simple way. I am proud of that.

Even now God is with us. In heaven and on earth. We’ll be together again. In the meantime, I will look for signs of you. I will live what you taught me, as best as I can. With my own spin on it, of course. Because really... you never expected me to do it all your way, now, did you?

I love you. That will never die. Nor will your love for me. It is still here. I feel it. And I know it.

XXX
OOO

Saturday, November 4, 2017

That 2017 Goal





So I had one goal for 2017. Just one. I am not a huge proponent of New Year's resolutions because I think often they are like drunken promises. We get crazy enthused and are going to make these huge major changes in our lives just because a new year has started... and we fail miserably each time. Usually week one. I'm over that....but still....I try to pick one area and make small incremental changes that will make my life better. Sometimes I even fail miserably at that.


For 2017 it was simple. I had found I had gotten completely sedentary in my work life. Working at home most days, there aren't a lot of rules. While friends and co-workers have told me they have issues working at home because they get easily distracted, I don't. In fact, the opposite occurs. There are so many distractions around the office, that I find it harder to focus on work there. I like to catch up on the lives of my co-workers and chit chat about everything going on, work and personal. (We all obviously get much less work done when I am in the office....probably one reason the company is so supportive of me working at home.) I like to watch the activity around the building. "Who's that guy walking down the hall....I've never seen him before." "And what happened to the woman that used to be in that office?" I attend meetings in person, where it's frowned upon (and rude) to multi-task. And it is loud....at least compared to home. There's always something to get my attention away from the work I need to do. The hazards of living life with ADD.

Home is different. I don't need to get dressed if I don't want to. Often I just start work. I don't even have to leave my bed....it is the perfect office. Add my laptop, iPad, and a couple of phones all around me, and I have everything I need for the day. I can comfortably focus on work....which is a good thing, right?

Until it is not. Until those two hours you save by not commuting to your office just become two more hours to work. Until you don't leave that spot on your bed for hours on end.  I'm talking five hours at a time on occasion. OK...even.more than sometimes. It happens way too often. Lately daily.

While some may be proud of this awesome work ethic, it horrifies me. I've read the problems sitting still for hours at a time can have on your health. I forget to eat, I forget to drink water. Hours of my life pass me by and I notice nothing except the computer screen in front of me or the voices on the latest conference call. My human contact is all virtual.  When it gets down to it, this is not acceptable to me. I want more out of my life and my body than a good work ethic.

So there are two more months in the year. I need to attain my goal. Like I said....I don't even try for perfection these days, just progress. It's time to make some small changes and see what I can do. To possibly work at my desk in my home office on occasion. Or sit where I can look out if a window and see a squirrel running around my yard. To take a break for a walk....even if I am doing it while on a conference call. To make lunch dates when it fits into my schedule so I can look people in the eye in person and catch up on their lives. To get on the treadmill when I hit the wall and take a few minutes to get away from it all and re-group. To make lunch and sit and eat it. Maybe reading a novel as I do so....or maybe just enjoying the food and noticing what I am eating.

No one has forced me into this cycle.....though I have other co-workers who are doing the same thing. We advise companies on wellness programs....and tell them to encourage healthy work habits in their employees. It's not only beneficial for them, but it pays dividends to the company. Yet sometimes we don't take our own advice.

We plan our days. We make choices in our lives. If I were talking to a friend who had developed my bad habits, I would be lecturing them furiously and telling them a million ways they could make changes. Yes....I know a few of you are laughing at the truth of this....because you have been the recipient of lots of solicited or non-solicited advice. But it is because I care. And I do believe we need to care for ourselves the way we want those we love to care for themselves.

So I have two months to meet my goal. The year isn't over yet. I just need to make progress. I have re-assessed where I am and I have not moved from where I was at the first of the year. I may have regressed. The time to change is now.

You are allowed to hold me accountable. Ask me what I have done to break the negative cycle. Ask me if I put real clothes on today, or took a shower. Call me to make a lunch date. Call me during the work day and ask me when I last moved my body. Sometimes we need a little help from our friends.

Enough about me....how can I encourage you? What bad habit do you need to change?