Life in the Middle Age Lane

Certain conversations and opinions at times echo in my head when I least expect it.  I think it's a way my sub conscience "highlights" what I should be paying attention to.  I suffered from low self esteem/insecurities most of my life as I imagine most women have.   Trying to achieve the Barbie figure or wondering why no one has whisked me off my feet with grand romantic gestures, surely something is wrong with me.  Of course all this subtly lifted as I matured and realized that this was not the real world. Other insecurities took their place, my lack of higher education among my peers was a sore spot.  My lack in attention to expensive brands and fashion names, when it was all the rage among the PTO moms made me feel like I was missing something.  Which of course, I wasn't. Now a days, a few years short of turning 50, I listen to the positive words my friends say to me.  How easy it is for me to approach strangers and strike up a conversa...

I spent four hours yesterday volunteering at a church in The Woodlands. Most of the time I shy away from writing about the individual act of service I perform. However, this one struck a little too close to home. I signed up for gift distribution, thinking that it was like an "Adopt-a-Family" type of program.  What I didn't realize was that it was for a Women's shelter and all the customers picking up their Christmas gifts were either physically or sexually abused.  Let this sit with you a minute....... The women I saw were all very thankful and had this look of shock and disbelief that they would actually be having a Christmas this year and most of all they all commented on how their children would be so excited on the toys they were to get.  All moved to tears and all gave soulful hugs that felt like liquid sunshine.  With everything going on in my life this year, this was by far the most rewarding thing I have ever done.  And it was only a small gest...

Being the first generation in America it was difficult for me to fit in, I tried by observing others.  I was very worried about being the odd one out as a child. Growing up watching the Brady Bunch and My Three Sons, I had certain expectations of what it was to be an American.  I remember being in Kindergarten and having an old german lady as a teacher who was not very nice.  I don't ever remember her being kind or thoughtful.  I did not speak any English when I started Kindergarten in Chicago, but after a few weeks I was fine.  But I will never forget feeling like I needed to learn to be like the others.  Maybe then the teacher would like me. Funny thing is, Chicago in the 70's  was a huge melting pot in itself and we had so many diverse ethnicities that it was hard to define what an American was.  We all were either Italian/American, Polish, Arabian, Mexican, etc. And most all of us were first generation, we all spoke two languages. Bu...