Why I Pray This Prayer

Lord,


I ask for You to lead me, to guide me as I surrender all. These words I recite almost daily in my prayers but what do they really mean?

Lead me suggests I follow Him. Where is He? How do I know it is Him? What signals does He give?

Guide me suggests He directs my path. Which way am I going? How do I know He wants me to go that way? How do I separate what way I want to go from His way?

Surrender all suggests I am detached from all things, people, and outcomes. I care about certain desires, certain hopes and dreams but I allow the actual events to go the way they go even if not toward my desired outcome. I do not intervene. I set the event in motion after thoughtful prayer and meditation. I check my awareness to discern whether there is more for me to do. I step back from the action and wait on the Lord. I am patient.

I go on my merry way with the rest of my life and let that other thing rest. Sort of like a well cooked piece of protein has to rest first after coming off of the heat. The juices have to redistribute and settle before the protein is plated and cut into. If insufficient rest takes place, the full flavors do not get their chance to penetrate all the right places and create a succulent morsel in the mouth and on the tongue.

So too for waiting on the Lord. When I wait for it, whatever it is, to be right; when I feel as though the thing is done and it is my time, I usually experience a feeling, a sense that all was divinely timed. Whether the outcome was double or triple what I expected; whether the problem was way more minor than anticipated; whether the expected loss was avoided or, in the alternative, a gift received instead... I always know. There is that sweet moment where I close my eyes and say "Thank You, Lord. I know this was Your doing. You have blessed me once again and I am grateful." It is in that moment, that sweet, joyful moment, that my heart swells and feels full. Sometimes it stays that way for minutes. Sometimes for days.

And so I pray my prayer and ask to be led, guided, and to surrender.

By the way, I always know when I have not properly surrendered too. It is easy to see. Just like someone handing me some money that they really don't want to let go of.... That last little bit of grip on the bill that forces me to have to jerk or yank it away. I can tell when I am surrendering but not quite fully letting go. Always. I imagine He smiles at me because He is always gingerly about yanking my stuff from my hands. This last time, I set the matter at the feet of the Lord but did not take my hands off of it. I said I surrender it but not really. Ours is a loving God that is so kind a to wait and let me get tired and stiff down there n my knees unwilling to let go. By the time I actually took my hands off of it and stood up to go, I could not walk right and had to hobble away. I can laugh at myself now. I know I was afraid. I had to surrender but was so afraid that the outcome might not be the one I want. I still don't know. What I do know is that God has always blessed me and kept me in His care. He has prospered me and guided me and my life is a blessing to me and to others. I trust Him and I let go. Whatever comes next, will be perfect for me... even if I do not desire it, did not expect it, and wanted something else.


What a magical wonderful feeling to know that the goodness of the Lord is nothing magical at all; rather a sure, solid, dependable gift always available, unending, unwavering, unimpeachable, and unequivocal.



with deepest gratitude,

Pam

Morning Prayer

Good Morning Dear Lord,


Thank You for waking me up this morning. I feel blessed and ready to impress!

I pray today and everyday to be a blessing, for myself and others.
May Your glory be in my every thought, word, and deed, now and always.
May Your guidance be leading me.
May I always be attentive to it and to You.
May I always discern Your will from my own.

These things I pray in the name of Your Holy Son, Jesus the Christ, Amen.

The Daily Word today is Free!

The Daily Word today says, I choose thoughts and words that are free of disapproval or the need to be right. I choose activities that nurture my body and mind, expressing the freedom of my soul. I choose to treat others in ways that reflect an attitude and spirit of freedom and love.

I used to live my life that way.... that was the pre-parent-Pam.  Now, as Pam, the parent , I have drifted steadily backward. Away from the free thinking, warm feeling self that was unconditionally loving, kind, and generous. In my role of parent, I have adopted the "old school model." The model I grew up with involved the adult telling the kid what to do and how to do. There was a right and a wrong, a good and a bad. That's the parenting I am familiar with and so that is the parenting I do.

Today, I want to parent differently and yet the natural pull is toward that past... toward the familiar way. I disapprove of my son's behavior and I say I am evolved because I am not disapproving of him. Yet he feels disapproval. and when I ask, he feels disapproved of. Separating himself from his behavior is a tough, abstract task to ask of a seven year old. Intellectually, he gets it and understands the distinctions. Emotionally,  it does not matter whether it is him or his behavior... he just feels badly. One could argue that if he feels badly he will learn the lesson and do better next time. That may be true. But what if, after doing better the next time, he does not feel good about himself. Or worse, what if he only feels good about himself when he is doing something good (rather than all of the time). 

How do parents correct behavior in a way that does not do long term damage to self-esteem? and How on earth do we know what does and does not cause long-term damage to self-esteem?

I could argue that I am doing a good job.  My son is bright and talented, a sharp thinker and a well mannered boy who knows right from wrong and still manages to run free as a wild child laughing and screaming and chasing a ball with friends joyfully. He manages to resolve conflicts with friends over whose turn it is next with whatever toy or gadget. He can focus and pay attention to teachers and coaches and learn what is being taught. He can remember and process information and he can read and write.  

But he bites his fingernails...and chews on his fingers when the nails are gone.... what does that mean? 

I am noticing the absence of a handbook to tell me how far back I should step, and when, to allow him room to grow. I could choose to relax. According to the Word, I have the freedom to choose. How do I parent with a sense of freedom and love? and what does that parenting behavior look like when the boy will not stay in bed and go to sleep on a school night? Should I ignore him, as some parenting books suggest? and let him suffer the consequences of being tired the next day at school? and then do that night after night until he gets it? or should I lovingly persist in insisting that he go back to bed? and then do that night after night until he gets it?

Where on earth is the parent's manual for Kid Jackson? and who is going to enforce the 10-year or 100,000 mile warranty that came with him? oops. that warranty was for my tires.... not the kid. oh well. 

I guess I will have to sit here and continue to freely choose to wonder if I am doing it right! Lord knows, I will not know for years to come.  At least at work I receive annual and mid-year performance reviews. Who is it that administers the parenting performance reviews? I mean, I know if I am a bad parent, the police, the teachers, the family services agencies will all weigh in. But if I am not really bad, then who then?

He receives evaluation as a student... which reflects as an aspect of my parenting... but not the whole of the job. And, if, as was my case, he is quite successful in life academically and professionally because he was constantly seeking approval that never fulfilled him, then what? 

I guess the easiest way to stop that behavior is to have him feel approved of, always, and be inspired to grow and prosper because his destiny is to be the best he can be.....

Oh, and I never found my owner's manual for Kid Jackson, so I bought a book from Amazon.com... it looks promising but it is just a book.... not an owner's manual.

From the DailyWord.com on Monday, September 20, 2010 

FREE

I choose thoughts, words and actions that set me free.

Why does one driver smile and relax in traffic, while another is tense and irritable? It is a matter of choice. Freedom of choice is an expression of our spiritual freedom, and it affects our attitudes and experiences.

Today I have a simple choice: I can be held captive by irritation and restrictive ways of thinking and being, or I can practice genuine spiritual freedom by expressing love in all I think, say and do.

I choose thoughts and words that are free of disapproval or the need to be right. I choose activities that nurture my body and mind, expressing the freedom of my soul. I choose to treat others in ways that reflect an attitude and spirit of freedom and love.

You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.--John 8:32

source: http://www.dailyword.com/

Watching Spike Lee's If God is Willing and Da Creek Don't Rise

According to Governor Blanco of Louisiana, Mississippi had 25% of damage from Hurricane Katrina, Louisiana had 75% of the damage.

Yet, President Bush's FEMA administration granted 50% of federal funds to each state rather than granting funds proportionally.

President Bush, a Republican; Governor Blanco, a Democrat.... guess what party the governor of Mississippi belongs to?

I wonder what Obama would have done....


 Spike Lee's HBO Special - If God is Willing and Da Creek Don't Rise

What is my sentence?

In his book, Drive, Daniel Pink tells us that "the secret to high performance and satisfaction—at work, at school, and at home—is the deeply human need to direct our own lives, to learn and create new things, and to do better by ourselves and our world."


In Part Three of that book, he writes about two questions that we can ask ourselves as a source of motivation and purpose (see page 154).

1. What is my sentence?
2. Was I better today than yesterday?

How on earth can I sum up what I am all about. I am a parent, a manager, an economist, a learner, a volunteer, an analyst, a sister, a colleague and more. How can I get it all into one sentence? ..... well let me see... it goes something like this:

"An effective leader, empowering people and processes to be their very best"

Was I better today than yesterday? Yes.

 I peacefully parented, respectfully reviewed work, I patiently led new managers, and I was attentive to my health and well-being....


more to come.

Life Half Full?

I have finally reached that point in life… the place I really, really am not ready to be. It is that time in life where it begins to feel as though more of my living is behind me than in front of me…. The half-way point. I know I really do not know where the half-way point is, but then again I have cheated myself out of about 20 years so half won’t feel like half whenever it does actually come. I am 43 years old and very proud of my age and my accomplishments. I have felt fulfilled in my living and glad for all my blessings.

I do have regrets. None of which are significant enough for me to want “do overs”.

The only trouble I have comes when I am around the twenty-something crowd…. Then I get a bit weird. When I am with that age group, I am reminded of myself when I was twenty and boy was I dumb. I was young, ignorant and blissful. Life held every promise, I had every option, and my choices were all my own. Win or lose, rise and fly, do or die, Pam called the shots and Pam was in control. And only Pam suffered the consequences of Pam’s choices.



God is my source and my protector as was the case back then…. It’s just that twenty years ago I had no idea how much protection I was enjoying. Now, I am wiser and less ignorant. I control so very little it is quite pitiful. My commitments dictate my choices and my values run the show.

So when I listen to the plans and dreams, hopes and schemes of today’s twenty-somethings, when I listen to the optimism, the faith, the aspiration, I am moved. I think of their aspiration and feel inspired. I think of my ambition and feel driven. My optimism has turned to pessimism, my faith to despair as I wonder if I will “make it” succeed at these efforts and endeavors I have chosen.

I am a mother. And that changed everything for me. Maybe I take myself too seriously, maybe not. But there is so much less in my life that I do for me… I use my job to fulfill a sense of vocation and purpose… but I keep that job to pay for the life I want to live as a solo parent. My volunteer time is spent investing in the church and the school that help me grow my child. I invest heavily because these are my pseudo-parenting partners in lieu of a husband or my son’s father. My dad used to be my parenting partner, helping me raise my son. He is no longer here. I no longer have his help. I miss him.

I do as much as I can in all the places that I can because I care about doing a good job. I care deeply about being a good mother. I enjoy being good at my job, but failure to be a good mother has a higher “at-stakeness”. A life is on the line… literally. Yes, I sound dramatic. And yes, I believe I am right.

Lives are on the line every day as parents fail to parent their own children and leave the duties and responsibilities to others. The costs of failure to parent keep soaring and the costs are born by us all. We pay every day in the social and emotional costs that accompany the killings and beatings and violence that is our every day norm in urban America. We pay every day as we grow number and less sensitive to those people, the ones who are not my problem, but are my community. We pay every day in lost productivity and human capital growth as our urban Americas sink further and further behind growing more illiterate by the hour. And when my son grows up and is a black male who is educated, enlightened, unimprisoned, and employed, I cannot help but wonder…. What statistic will he be? one in one hundred? one in one thousand? One in two thousand?

So, yes, my life may be about half over. But my parenting career is not even half begun. I have a long haul and sometimes the load sure feels heavy. But every day, I know I am closer and closer to creating a life lived powerfully, productively, powerfully, and prosperously … a life that is my son’s because of the way I have paved.

I am forty-something and I thank God for each and every minute I have lived and for each one I might have left.

Them Down There in the Treme

So I have been watching the HBO miniseries Treme and I have been fascinated by the perspective on the post-Katrina New Orleans that the show provides. Clearly, the show is only a snippet and it is fiction. Nonetheless, I found it interesting to think about the damage done and the recovery process from the viewpoint of the types of people that the characters represent.

First, I learned that Treme is one of the oldest neighborhoods in the city, and early in the city's history was the main neighborhood of free people of color. It is reported that the neighborhood was and is an important center of the city's African-American and Créole culture, especially the modern brass band tradition.

Viewers of the HBO program get a good look at the landscape, the interior of houses and businesses, and the exterior buildings, houses, streets, and land areas. The sense of the damage, the amount of problems encountered as people attempt rebuilding, and the simple things like water in the gas line that will not power the cooking stoves on the restaurant of one character.

I can see the livelihoods that derived from a tourism industry devastated and decimated but not completely deterred.... the musicians, the chefs, the hotel staff, and more.  The neighborhoods that look desolate, isolated, and damaged.  The houses that are no longer homes.

My heart broke as the lawyer and the sister searched for the missing brother while the mother, older, less in control of her faculties, held vigil. All three hoping, searching, slaving through a bureaucracy that encouraged all the wrong behavior and provided no incentive for integrity and valor. Yet they found a little along the way. In the end, the viewer gets a clear sense of what happens in a moment when the world as someone knows it is literally washed away. And we get to feel, only barely, what it feels like to be someone, like the college professor-husband-to-the-lawyer, who knew his government had been failing his community for years.  Not enough of the right people put the appropriate degree of attention on the problems to solve them before catastrophe took those problems away and replaced them with new, bigger ones.

Treme is a beautiful creation and I am glad to have seen the program in all its beauty and grace amid debris and desolation... with all its hope and faith in the face of loss and mourning.

Visit: HBO's Treme Website  and The Times-Picayune HBO Treme website


The one thing that stood out in my mind Sunday after Sunday as I watched was the awareness of them and their plight. "Boy, they sure have a mess to recover from." "Man, what a trauma that was that happened to them." "They sure had a great place down there." "I wonder how they are doing."

I, sitting in the comfort of my Washington DC residence, wondered about them and felt very little connection to the post-Katrina New Orleans of 2010. Before this HBO special, that community and its devastation had been off my radar for quite a while. Have I done enough? Yes, I sent charitable gifts.... in 2005 and 2006. But what about 2009 and 2010? Who needs my help now? Have I done enough? I am not situated to travel there and spend my tourist dollars just yet, but when I can, will I go? Will I remember?

And then I wondered, when the next drama hits DC, if my neighborhood is torn apart, will I wonder then, if I had done enough for "them down there."

Then I listen to the stories about the oil spill and how business and tourism in the region are experiencing even more hardship. Am I doing enough now? What else should I be doing?

My First Fatherless Father's Day

Someone at church wished me happy father's day yesterday. I smiled. She knew my father had passed. She was acknowledging him and my loss in such a warm and loving way my heart just warmed over and swelled. She said it in a way that let me know, she knew he was still with me, fathering me, even if his body was no longer here.  It was the kindest, gentlest gesture and it made my day.

I had been afraid to go to church.

It was men's day and I did not really want to have my attention on dad... I thought I would be too caught up in feelings of mourning. I thought that I would see all of the dads, hear the message about fathers, and then feel devastated at losing mine.

But then again, church is not supposed to be about me!

Welcome to Northeastern Presbyterian Church

I am Pam Jackson, Phil Jackson’s second favorite daughter.

Alicia Keys singing about the Streets of New York

Alicia Keys sings that New York's streets "will make you feel brand new and inspire you." It is the "concrete jungle where dreams are made up There is nothing you can't do now that you are in New York."


I believe her. The music, the beats, Jay-z... all make me feel empowered and moved deep in my soul. It is the kind of song I would play very loudly on the car radio while driving on the freeway (at high speeds) with all the windows down at dusk. The kind of song that makes me feel free and hopeful with a full rich life ahead of me.


The song reminds me that life can be simple and joyful. Just show up and let life in New York move me.


Today is the last day of school for my soon-to-be-done-with-first-grade son. I feel emotional, sad that time has flown by, glad because he is doing so well.  As I listen now, to Alicia, I notice my dreams are less about me and more for him, more about his life than my own.


Don't get me wrong.... I have more to do and big dreams for myself.  But at this stage of my life, I dream of the world that my son will live in. And my focus of attention is on making the way for him to live the life he wants to live.... and making a way so that his community, his country, is as good or better than the one we have now.


I feel less of the inspiration of Alicia's Streets of New York and more of the drudgery of my work to make life all better. There are moments of inspiration. But I contrast those with the life I lived when I was twenty and most of that time was spent feeling inspired and invincible. 


"Where did it all go?" I ask the rhetorical question knowing the answer. It is all still there. I am just too serious about it all. The problems I have taken on are bigger and more complex... the consequences more severe. I am less mindful than I ought to be about the work to do to make my dreams come true. I focus more on what I have yet to do than on what I have done. I celebrate less and plan more. Oh, the adult life is a challenge. This parenting thing really can be fun and joyful but I have work to do on that front.


Maybe it is simpler yet... I am in DC not New York. Oops, better head north and have some fun!

Food from others

I am reading Rosabeth Moss Kanter, a professor at Harvard Business School and an author.

15 Steps for Successful Strategic Alliances (and Marriages)
http://blogs.hbr.org/kanter/2010/06/15-steps-for-successful-strate.html?loomia_ow=t0:s0:a38:g4:r2:c0.000000:b0:z6

She has developed a 15-step guide to ensuring success as every stage of the relationship, from courtship to ongoing success. Her advice:
1. Be open to romance, but court carefully. At the beginning of new relationships, selective perceptions reinforce dreams, not dangers. Potential partners see in the other what they want to see, believing what they want to believe. Hopes, dreams, and visions should be balanced by reality checks.

2. Know yourself. Build your strengths. An organization seeking partners should identify assets that have value to partners and strengthen them. Networks of the weak do not survive. The best alliances join strength to strength.

3. Seek compatibility in values. In rapidly changing environments, compatibility in values, philosophy and goals is more important than specific features of an immediate business deal. The basis for collaboration must be more enduring, and there must be a foundation for mutual trust to help weather inevitable changes or problems.

4. Treat the 'extended family' respectfully. Include other partners and stakeholders. Rapport between leaders of partner organizations is not enough. Other people and organizations who are the 'relatives' in each organizations' extended family must also be won over.

5. Put the lawyers in their place. Leader-to-leader relationships are important. Partnerships and network formation shouldn't be turned over to third-party professionals, such as staff analysts, lawyers, consultants, or deal-brokers.

6. Vow to work together until business conditions do us part. Commit to a first project, to exploring growth in the relationship, to monitor change, and to remain friends if changing conditions require a graceful exit.

7. But don't count on the contract. Formal agreements can't anticipate everything, and interpretations of the agreement vary — even within the same organization.

8. So keep communicating, face-to-face. Matters are more easily sorted out when partners' leaders keep talking long after their initial deal-making and dedicate people to watch over the relationship — a partner or alliance 'ambassador' (the equivalent of key account managers).

9. Spread involvement. Create more ties for more people. Alliances begin with a few direct connections among top leaders. As projects unfold, more people at more levels must get involved, and they need to feel connected, too — that they know their counterparts in their partner organization. The more people feel included, the more they have a chance to see the others face-to-face and come to know them, the easier it will be to implement partnership activities.

10. Build organizational bridges — formal structures. Active collaboration occurs when organizations develop structures, processes, and skills for bridging organizational and interpersonal differences and getting value from the relationship. Bridges include formal governance (a partnership board), joint project teams, and alliance ambassadors.

11. Respect differences. Alliances, partnerships, and networks are most helpful when they involve differences — when partners give each other something they do not already have. But differences in "specialty" desired by partners are accompanied by more "inconvenient" differences in behavioral style, motives and goals, operating methods, or cultural assumptions. Respect is essential. Time must be invested in understanding differences and transcending them.

12. Teach partners. Learn from partners. People from across the partnership network must become teachers as well as learners. Often the ultimate value of a partnership is the new knowledge and skill it brings. Organizations that derive greater value from their alliances tend to have greater communication internally, share more information, and promote an atmosphere of learning.

13. Be prepared to change yourself. Partners must be willing to be influenced by one another. To make linkages possible requires operating compatibilities, project by project and sometimes even in a larger sense. This can mean learning the other's language and style or inventing a new one; changing to the other's system or creating a joint one.

14. Help everyone win. Mutuality is the hallmark of organizational collaboration. Balancing benefits so that each partner gets something of equivalent value can be hard to do in the short run, but it is essential in the long run. The best alliances try to maximize the value of the whole relationship, which then makes it more valuable to each partner.

15. Get closer, change course, or exit gracefully. Like living systems, relationships evolve. Change should be expected. But the best guarantee that organizations will be closer in the future is success in what they try to achieve today. Success strengthens relationships.

If the world is about to end

So there is a line in the John Legend song, Quickly, where he talks about needing to love the girl he just met quickly cause the doctor told him he is dying slowly.

I love that line in part because it is true for most of us, that we are dying slowly.... but also I love how he sings it.  In that song, like most of his songs, is really passionate. He says time is running low so he wants her (the girl he is singing to) to love him like the world is about to end. Can you imagine that? What would that be like? the attention, the passion, the focus, the disregard for the day-to-day and mundane... whew.... hours of pleasure??? romance? love???

So if the world is about to end, I guess I would not care about a lot of the things that take up space in my thoughts. I would be more free and at ease to enjoy the moment, to be fully focused on the man in front of me and not worrying about my chores, my errands, my budget, and my parenting. I imagine myself in beautiful surroundings with this beautiful person, uninterrupted and full of pleasure, excitement, lust.

Do you do that right now? I know I don't. Well, I might for like 5 minutes in a month or something. It seems like the shortage of time is always on my mind when it comes to many aspects of my life. If the world were about to end, my sense of time, its value and my choices about how to spend that time would shift powerfully.

If I pause a moment....let's see. It is Saturday night, in June. If the world is about to end then I do not have to think about:

1.teaching Sunday school tomorrow
2. finishing the laundry to get ready for the next week of school
3. applying the dog's monthly flea and tick medicine
4. vacuuming the first and second floors of the house
5. washing my hair and deep conditioning it
6. losing 10 more pounds
7. saving for my son's post-high school options (college? entrepreneurial start up?)
8. figuring out how to manage the mid-year performance reviews that I am about to have to start at work
9. resolving my father's estate and selling his house
10. and 20 other things

Then I guess I could be free.

Interestingly enough, it does occur to me that if the world is about to end, the distraction of wondering when, exactly, the world is ending and how it might be ending....may interfere with my beautiful, in-the-moment, passionate rendezvous I have been speculating about.

oh well. I guess I will just stay in the moment when I can and go on with my world ending much later on.

Now, if John Legend himself calls me, everyone else will see me gone with the wind as the world ends!
http://www.johnlegend.com/us/home

Not The Decider

I am watching the movie, “My Sister’s Keeper” and experiencing the struggle of a mom fighting for her cancer stricken daughter. I hope I never have to have that fight. It is all about trying to make the right choices and decisions, pursuing the best interests of the patient, being the decider.

I came close with my dad. He was cancer stricken. He died. But I never had to be the decider. I did not even have a chance to fight for him.

He said how it went, what he wanted, what he did not want. He chose when to start the process of dying. Yes, the cancer would have taken him, but he got a head start and kept the lead ‘til nearly the end.

I never had to tell the doctors to turn off a machine, to stop treating him, to not resuscitate him. I did not have to spend weeks or months feeding him, changing him, cleaning him, and giving him his medicine. I did not have to make any decision that led to his death. He made them all, I supported him. He chose when to stop eating and drinking. He chose when he was not going to take his medicine. He chose not to pursue chemo. He decided three-score and ten was enough for him.

On the one hand, I think if I had to make those decisions, I may have been broken spiritually. On the other hand, in an odd sort of way, I feel robbed… and deficient. Somehow, I did not do enough. Yet, I know it is a feeling, not a truth.

Nonetheless, I cannot help but feel moved by the heroic nature of this character, Cameron Diaz playing Sara Fitzgerald, who has devoted more than a decade of her life to her daughter, Kate. She had to be the decider, make the choices, and suffer the consequences. In her case, she switched into fighting mode and fighting mode became her. The time, the resources, the stamina all make her look admirable and valiant. The family, strong and united (sort of) looks the better for the suffering and struggle.

But then I remember, I am watching a movie. The reality is not this. I am not sure what the reality would look like but I know it is not what I am seeing on the television screen. The reality would likely contain way more mess, trauma, strife, depression, grief, fecal matter, vomit, and irate patients (patience too).

I heard a line in a song during the movie…. "you'll feel better when you feel anything at all." I guess I am glad I am feeling something. Lord, knows for most of 2010 that has not been the case. My dad grew ill in 2009 but the official battles leading to the end of life accelerated in December of 2009 and ended on February 28, 2010.

Caught between feeling guilty for not doing enough, feeling robbed of an opportunity to serve, and feeling sorrow because I miss my dad, I guess I am feeling better because, at least, I am feeling something.

Mostly, I am just feeling glad not to have been the decider.

How Much I am Loved

Originally published on Sunday, February 28, 2010 at 8:58pm

Mandisa sings, "Do you really know how much you are loved.... Take the depths of the deepest ocean and go deeper, take the top of the tallest tower and go higher... take the best day that you ever had and try to imagine better than that. Still don't come close to how much you are loved."
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9IbUYRpQSA)

Saturday, February 27th, 2010 was the best day I ever had and I cannot imagine any better than that. It was my father's homegoing and lucky for us he scheduled it and we hosted it before he died as opposed to after. The entire day was filled with beauty and light. I am so absolutely grateful and joyful for the day, for the people, for the sunny skies, the brisk, wind, the tantalizing food, the laughter, the card playing, the music, the hugs....

I had no idea the amount of joy that could come from the warmth of loving people coming to tell Phil Jackson and his family how extraordinary he was. Though he was no longer conscious, I never doubted for a moment his ability to hear, absorb, and appreciate the generous words, gestures, and gifts. ..

I give thanks to family and friends who celebrated a day, all day, in such a wonderful way. We were so loud, we laughed so hard, we hugged so much... I am a bit surprised that the man did not wake up!

Mandisa sings that God's love goes out to everyone....that includes me and you. I am so comforted by and confident in the universe's ability to care for us, to gift us with loved ones, and take them away from us in a way that does not break us but , rather, makes us stronger and better.

I was loved. Deeply, profoundly, powerfully, persistently. I was cared for, valued, appreciated, nurtured and so much more. And I let that love wrap its arms around me very hard. My dad loved me and though he is now gone from this worl, I can still feel the strength of his grip on me. He held me with his care and concern for me for decades, even as an adult and a new mom, he gave to me and cared for me like a mother would a baby. It was figurative, not literal, and felt just as good. He taught me how to parent my son, he created the space for me to grow and prosper, to rise and shine, to live and love as deeply and powerfully as he. Most of all, he granted me peace by helping me to grow confident and trusting in my own voice, my own way, my own abilities. And all of that was in the last seven years, never mind the thirty-some odd years before that.

Through the late hours of the night on Saturday and as the early Sunday morning hours began, the laughter and friends and family faded, but his grip remained on my hand and in my heart. I felt such joy at being able to be the one to hold his hand through the night, to wipe his brow, to administer the morphine, to feel his heartbeating, barely, to hear his raspy breathing, barely there. I felt such gratitude and pride in waking up before the alarm clock to make sure the drugs never wore off so that he never felt pain or suffering.

His homegoing was his way and on his terms. I respected him and his choices and am grateful beyond measure to have been trusted by him to help his life end graciously, sweetly, peacefully. I am also grateful for my sister, my beloved, beautiful, brilliant sister who partnered with me in this journey these last few weeks. Our experience is forever and always a treasure, a collaborative union filled with the pain of losing a dad, the joy of serving him lovingly, and the comfort of being together struggling to make the right choices, not wanting to mess it up for dad!

Saying God is good all of the time sounds trite... though it is true. What is more appropriate is that we, only on special occasions, acknowledge that God is good all of the time.

What I really feel is that God is gracious and merciful all of the time and we take it for granted, do not always notice it, and would benefit tremendously if we were to wake up! Unlike my dad, I still can.

Friday Night Dinner

Originally published Thursday, March 11, 2010 at 10:42pm

Today it was a commercial for Outback Steakhouse. I saw the commercial, reflected a moment, my memory was jogged, and the tears began to trickle. My eyes sting. They dry up. The moment passes. My head hurts.

I never know what it will be that makes me think of my dad and cry. Sometimes I think of him, and I don't cry. Sometimes I just cry.

The Outback Steakhouse was where we were heading for dinner a few Fridays ago. It seems like a lifetime. Yet, it was one month ago, Friday, February 12, 2010. The snow storms, the biggest to hit the DC area in seven years had just finished and he had been discharged from the hospital in the midst of them. Snowbanks two feet high covered much of the region and that Friday was the first day back to work for most people after four days off.

Traffic was horrible. My twenty minute commute picking up my son at school to travel to my father's house took three times as long. Dad was patient. Then, it took a major effort to help him out of the house and make it to the car which I could not park in front of his house. I had to park four houses down in the middle of the road (I use the term park rather loosely; stop the car is more accurate).

Our fifteen minute ride to the restaurant took over an hour. Traffic lights were out, travel lanes were not plowed. Congestion abounded. Amazingly Quinton was sane in the backseat enjoying his Ipod and Dad and I just talked. We talked the whole time. It was probably the longest uninterrupted, adult conversation he and I had had in years.

But we never made it to the Outback Steakhouse. He would have ordered the Prime rib, Quinton would have had the mac and cheese, and I would have had the grilled shrimp. I know this. That is what we always ordered. We always tried to get there early on the Fridays we went, like by 6:30 or so to beat the night time, date time crowd.

Up until that night, Friday night dinner had been our family tradition for years, four to be exact. We started in January 2006. I had started training to run a marathon and needed to get up early on Saturdays so Dad started staying over on Friday nights to watch Quinton. We started doing Friday dinner and then we would come home to my house together instead of him going home to his house. I would be up and out at 6am, or 5am when summer came, and Dad would be there when Q woke up. They would hang out cook breakfast or go out to eat. I would make it home by 10 or 11am. We did that routine for ten months until the October date for the Marine Corps Marathon. I ran it. Finished in just over five hours. It was one of the most life changing experiences I will ever have. I grew so much in my abilities to persevere and to ask for help. I fell down… a lot. And I got back up. I relied on a community of people to help me achieve my personal goal. I accomplished success for others as well. I raised money for AIDS while I trained. And I taught myself, my dad, and my son what the power of the words “I can do it” meant coming out of my mouth.

When the race was won, we kept up with the Friday dinners. But Dad no longer slept over. He went home afterwards. I don’t blame him. I did not have a guest room. All those months, he slept on the sofa. Never complained, never commented, never showed any signs of anything other than duty. He taught me in that way. Put your head down and do the thing you committed to do. No costs assigned to the requestor. Just do the thing.

That last Friday dinner did not happen at the Outback because they had lost power and had no electricity. The Home Depot and the Giant grocery store across the way, the traffic lights, and the entire Prince Georges Plaza mall area on the south side of East West Highway was out. We went to the Olive Garden across the parking lot instead.

Everything worked out really weel. We found parking, got a table quickly, Dad ate pretty well. It was there, for the first time in our 200 plus Friday night dinners, that I learned for the first time that Friday night dinners out with his folks is what he did when he was younger. I had never known. I do not even remember how it came up. I asked some question about when he was younger, the age Quinton is now. He described the restaurant and the building. The name escapes me now. He said that his family, his mother, father, sister, and himself, went out most Fridays for years. Interesting.

I loved my dad. I enjoyed his company. And long ago he taught me the ability to enjoy being in someone’s company without having to fill up the space with words or television or other entertainment. He allowed me to experience unconditional friendship and companionship. I learned to respect him and his space and to let him be. I learned to accept him as he was and let go of any wishes for him to be different…. For our time to be different.

We did not laugh and talk and fill up Friday nights with good cheer and happiness. We just went to dinner on Friday nights. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes it was quite, sometimes it was long, sometimes it was not. We went all over town... College Park, downtown, Chinatown, Silver Spring, Hyattsville, Baltimore, Capitol Hill, Union Station, Wisconsin Ave., and, more. When the recession hit heavy, we started eating in at home, cooking or ordering Chinese food.

I have not figured out what to do about dinner on Fridays yet. In time I know I will. For now, I can look at the Outback Steakhouse commercials, but the Olive Garden ones tear me to pieces.