America Has A Bright Future

Posted on March 11, 2016 by Bob Martin

Interracial primary classroom learning to use laptop with theirWhat an incredible day. Once again the day started with listening to news about how the country and world are slipping down a very deep abyss. I heard about leaders or those wanting to be leaders and how they spoke of each other and those supporting the opponents. Five o’clock is a little early to start thinking that the planet is going to hell in a hand basket. Then the rest of my day happened and the youth of our country made me realize that how good the world could be if we followed their examples.

I find it interesting to hear how many people, both with who I work and those I know in other means, all complain about the length of this week. It seemed that everybody was suffering long-weekitis. I know that between teaching at a conference for the first two days and then playing catch up, I could not wait for Friday. That was until I remembered that Friday meant starting at 6 a.m. and going through the work day teaching fourth graders and ending at our daughter’s school’s variety show as a green room chaperone. Hmmmm. Could I go back to Monday? I will admit that the lady at McDonald’s not understanding what I meant when I asked for an Egg McMuffin without ham, I feared that that day would go downhill quickly.

It is funny how fast one’s mood can change. Upon arriving at the site for our tech day, I started feeling better about things. The set-up went well and without a hitch. However, in checking my phone, I still saw how much people were tearing each other down. I turned the phone off.

Once the students started to arrive, I watched as one fact after another came into the auditorium. They had no idea what the day would offer, but the excitement to learn filled the air. These students wanted to be able to walk out at the end of the day having learned something new and exciting. Considering that the theme was STEAM, I felt assured that they would leave smarter than they entered.

For the next six hours, I spent hour after hour teaching students how to create a stop motion movie using iPads. We talked about how film worked in the “old days”, and how projectors worked. I realized I was teaching about something most of them would never see such things. We talked about what steps were needed to do their project, and then we let them free. Free to imagine. Free to create. Free to be. With each passing hour, I felt better about our country. How?

I watched these young people work together. I listened to them talk about their dreams. I saw their ability to work through problems – both problems with the project and problems with each other. These young people did not stop trying. They did not blame each other for problems. They did not let the problems grow. They figured out how to solve and resolve.

I will admit that I did not hear any resolutions to the problems of our world. I did not hear one child speak about which presidential candidate was going to take our country and make it whole again. I did not hear about how to end poverty. I did hear that the young people have ambitions and plans for the future. More importantly, I saw our young men and women showing that they do have the ability to do what adults do not – work together. Now the question is how do we keep them going without losing that ability.

I would like to say that my day ended there, but I cannot. My work day ended working with teachers. Again, what a great feeling that was. These teachers want to make a difference and are willing to go the extra mile to make sure they do.

Finally, I spent three hours in a room with five other adults and 35 elementary students. Our daughter’s school’s variety show needed parent volunteers. My wife and I decided to be green room  we played musical chairs and Simon Says.

These young people left the room ready to perform. They came back seasoned performers. We asked how they did. Some admitted to mistakes, but none we disappointed in the fact that they went out and tried. For some of them, this was totally outside of their comfort zone, but they did it.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about why America is great. After working with these young people today, I am happy to say that not only is our country great today, it will continue to be so in the years to come. So thank you to these young people that erased all the darkness of the world today. Thank you for making me believe that you are better than the adults who lead you. Thank you for making me look for to tomorrow.

And thank you dear reader for meandering with me today.

 

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Character Check

Posted on March 10, 2016 by Bob Martin

Intersection with the traffic light in Hannover at eveningWhen I was a Scoutmaster in England and then an Assistant Scoutmaster in Burbank, I used to look forward to a segment at the end of the weekly meetings titled, Scoutmaster Minute. A true scout meeting is run by the boys. The leaders are there to guide, mentor, and to make sure the building is still standing when the scouts are done. However, this segment belonged to a leader (it didn’t always have to be the Scoutmaster). This section is a time for the leader to share with the boys a story, thoughts, or experiences in order to teach some part of scouting. My favorite was when I talked to the boys about character. As a scoutmaster and teacher, I feel that this is a trait that we must help young people to grow.

I would always let the boys know that character was one area in which they had the most control. This was the area in which they chose who and how they would be. For character isn’t how you act when others around as much as how you act when nobody is watching.

As part of my minute (okay, I keep saying minute and they were never that short), I would bring up a four-way intersection. A driver pulls up to this intersection at four in the morning; he has a red light. He looks around in all directions and saw no other cars. He waits 30 seconds and the light remains red. What does he do? Many of the boys said they would break the law and go. Others said they would stay, but only due to fear that there may be a police officer hiding somewhere. Some stated that they would wait since that is the expectation. I have some state that this is not a fair scenario since I set it up to be four in the morning and nobody is around. I would respond that that is when character is the most visible.

I also use a set-up of the scouts walking a trail and finding a wallet full of money. I do not mention if anyone else is around. They ask that question first. I tell them that they are alone. I like this scenario because it is more likely to happen to the boys. I allow them to discuss the ups and downs of each. Most of the boys due come to the conclusion that they would return the wallet intact. Some state that it is the right thing to do. Others say that they would want somebody to be honest if the scout’s wallet had been lost. I think there are some who want to keep it, but are afraid to say it aloud.

So why am I thinking about character today. I know that the character of a child is developed at home first. Parents, through example not words, help a young person shape this important trait. However, it soon has outside forces impacting on the way a person’s character changes. They learn from other parents, relatives, teachers, principals, adults in their lives, and adults they see. Each of those groups has good examples and bad examples of people with character. The input is constantly coming in their direction and children must learn early on which to accept and which to deflect.

I guess in a way this is where I miss days of past. While we have always had good people and bad people, young people have never had them thrown in their face as much as today. With the 24/7 media going on, we constantly are being shown the bad that goes on in the world. Movies and television shows show how those doing wrong can profit more than those doing things the right way. Then we have our political leaders. It has almost gotten to a point that we glorify those who do wrong and shun those who do right.

I know that it is up to the parents to ensure that what their children watch is appropriate. However, with technology everywhere, this becomes difficult. One cannot even go into Wendy’s, McDonalds, or even better restaurants without televisions being right there. Parents cannot control that.   

The thing I find most interesting is that with all of this available to young people, with society praising people without character (watch people at the political rallies), with our children being filled without examples of those lacking this trait, how is it that we can complain about the young people in our country not having good character? We are getting what we grow.

It is funny because when I have these things popping in my head, I start looking into my own life. I start wondering about where I stand. I find that while I try to be a good example, I slip. I start wondering about those choices I make when others don’t know. Do I actually give me all to what I am doing? Do I find a way to justify checking social media during the work day? Do I make promises that I cannot or do not want to keep? How is my character? These questions make me wonder if I am holding our leaders to a different standard. It is through thinking and writing this piece that I come to understand. We need to live to the same level that we expect of our leaders. How can I ask them to set the example for my child when I don’t always set the example? So this is a wake call for me, I will strive to live to the same level of character as I expect those leading our country and world.

Thank you for meandering with me today.

 

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Silence

Posted on March 8, 2016 by Bob Martin

Steine im Wasser 3I wrote a while ago about what it is like to grow up in a small town. It is a memory I hold dear to me and will until I no longer walk this earth. However, this morning I believe I finally figured out why, for me, a small town was such a great place. It was due to the lack of sound.

There are all types of people in this world, and each one is truly unique. Just the same, people hold certain things in common. Where we live is one such trait. Some people love the hustle and bustle of the city. Some want quiet and serenity and go as rural as possible. Then you have the others who are in between and live in the suburbs. For me, I live somewhere between a city and suburb. While it has much to offer, the one thing that I struggle to find is silence. I had that living outside of our village. The silence was amazing and something that I think many of us are missing.

I did not realize how much I was missing this silence until this morning. I am going to share my experiences. Some of you may already have found ways to get that silence, and I would love to hear what you do. For me, I didn’t know that I did not have the silence until I tripped upon it in my own house this morning. Once I found it, I started wondering why is it that so many of us try to avoid it.

This morning, I woke up at 4:30 am. This is not all that different than most of my weekday mornings. I normally get up early so I can either work, read, or exercise (yeah right). I am a creature of habit, so each morning, after closing the bedroom doors, I turn on the television to see what happened while I was sleeping or to catch up on a taped show. If I am going out for a walk, I grab my ear buds and turn on the music while I walk around the neighborhood. If I am going to write, I will either have the TV on or music or both. I constantly have sound going on around me. Even on the weekends when cleaning, we have music going on in the background, and were we live, the sound of fire sirens or police are an all too regular occurrence. But today was different.

I woke this morning and reached for the remote. I pointed at the television and stopped. I paused for a moment to take in just how quiet was the house. My wife and daughter were both asleep, and with their doors closed I could not even hear the rhythmic breathing coming from the room. The cat curled up in a corner shortly after she walked out of the room with me. No sirens. No outside noises. The only sound was the ticking of a cuckoo clock. Even that seemed muted in the quiet. I put the remote down and just sat. I didn’t even turn on the light. I just sat there in the dark, and I visited with an old friend – silence.

At first, I didn’t like the visit. I have often spoke to my confirmation students about taking time to sit in silence. I tell them that this is not a time to pray, for we all know how to do that, but just to sit in silence. They complain that this is difficult. They cannot shut off their thoughts, and they end up sitting thinking about things that they need to do, people to call, what is for dinner, and other items on their agenda. Students tell me that it is impossible to do. This morning as I sat down in the dark, quiet room, I too fought with those issues.

Today, I did something different then in the past. I did not fight those thoughts. They ran through my head and I acknowledged each one and let it go. I let the checklist of the day go by. I passed by the thought of the drive ahead. I agreed with the thought of worrying about getting everything I needed to do, done. Then I found the part that the students didn’t like. I think in the past I always worried about the first thoughts that came up so much, I never reached this point.

Once I let the, what might be called, trivial items go by then my thoughts turned towards my actions of late. How I have treated colleagues in all situations, how I treat my family, my thoughts towards others, how I have been treating myself. I think this is where my students struggle with silence. There is nothing to drown these out when you have no outside stimuli coming in. While I try very hard to be a good person, I slip, I falter, I fail. My thoughts reminded me of each and every one. I wanted to jump up. I reached for the remote. I longed for some sound to break me from this world. Silence was no longer my friend.

I did not want to sit there anymore. What a horrible way to start the day. Then I allowed it to happen. I started to acknowledge each of these just as I had with the first set of thoughts. I noted the people I had wronged. I saw the people I had let down. I saw that I was not treating myself as good as I should. Just as with the first group, once each thought had its turn it disappeared. I knew that they would return, but for now they would no longer haunt me.

Finally, silence and I could be together like we have not been for a long time. I felt it waft over me slowly taking over my mind and being. I felt a peace like I have not felt since I was a kid. I transported back to the same feeling I would have sitting in my backyard especially at night. I would just lay on the grass and let go. I went there today. I let go. My second alarm on my phone went off telling me it was time to get ready. I wanted to ignore it. I did not want to say good bye to my old friend. We had just gotten back together. I decided good-bye would not be the way, I would visit with this friend more and more. I stood up feeling better about the day. I had optimism abound on the events of the day. I was freed from the thoughts that were holding me back. I also knew that I had work to do, I did not want those thoughts to return the next time I try to visit with my old friend.

In today’s world, we keep a fast pace. We are always looking for stimuli of some sort or another. We try very hard not to be with silence. It does not help that every time we turn around, we are offered another product to give us just such a stimuli going and silence at bay. It is a shame. Perhaps it is not so much that people don’t want the silence, but more that they are afraid of the trip to get there. They do not want to be left alone with their own thoughts. They have fear as to what silence will really be like.

I think the greatest experience I ever had with silence came while sky diving. At 4000 feet, there is no sound – no birds, no sirens, no….nothing. You get to listen to nothing. While we cannot all jump out of a plane, perhaps if we all visited with silence a little more often it would help. I am not saying to go off the grid and stop using technology and such. However, what would happen if we all took a little time each day to set it all aside and find…nothing?

Final note for today. I found it interesting that while typing I had a strong urge to turn on my music. I always do that while writing. Today, I stopped. The only sound while writing was the keys on the keyboard. What a great sound.

Thank you for meandering with me today,

Steine im Wasser 3 

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My Water Broke!!!!

Posted on March 6, 2016 by Bob Martin

giving birthI am sorry if this post is later than usual. I had to get my heart restarted after this afternoon. Now, please before my inbox fills up the first comment is metaphorical not literal. However, after our daughter’s comments this afternoon, I am surprised that it is not both. In the end, as with the rest of this past week, it all comes down to lessons learned. I learned today.

My brother-in-law came up to celebrate his birthday with us. We had a great breakfast and were just sitting around talking. Our daughter becoming bored with adult talk started playing around. She started bringing out stuffed animal after stuffed animal. Each one has a unique name and place in her little family.

Next came our cat in the stroller. This cat has to be one of the mellowest animals I have ever seen. It sits in the stroller and gets pushed around. She will even wear sunglasses on certain days. The cat soon had friends in the stroller. She didn’t care as long as she got her ride. Before we knew it, we each had a family member sitting with us – we were charged with its care. Then it happened.

Our daughter ran into her bedroom, giggling all the way. A few seconds later, out comes this little eight year old with a bump under her dress. “I’m pregnant!” came the gleeful voice. Her uncle started laughing – yeah thanks for that encouragement. She walked around patting her belly. She sat on the couch. Two minutes later, she jumps up screaming, “My water broke!” Out she ran. From her bedroom, we heard a couple screams of pain. She then re-enters the room holding a new stuffed animal. “I had my baby.” Her face was all smiles. She then introduced her new baby to all of us. My heart was no longer beating.

Once I regained my composure, I saw the humor and posted about it on Facebook. Currently more than 50 people have also found humor in it. Some made comments about how fast she is growing up, others aimed their thoughts at me being a Grandpa.

Now before I talk about the lessons, I want to state that yes, she probably learned this from television. We were watching a tweeners movie that had a nice message to it this morning. However, in the movie, the aunt had a similar event occur while at the Eiffel Tower. It is a natural part of life, and we are okay with the fact that she has an introduction to what goes on with birth.

So what could this possibly teach me in the lessons of life? Well the first lesson is – I AM NOT READY TO BE A GRANDFATHER! My age is that of a grandpa and I get that. However, even though I have been asked if I am one, I am still just learning to be a dad. After tonight’s homework session, I am not even sure I am doing such a great job at that. It did, though, make look into the future. I learned that I need to do whatever it takes to be here when the real event happens. I have written in the past about my want to get in shape. I have struggled at this of late. Today came more as a message that this will happen one day, but I need to change my habits if I want to witness it – okay, I don’t want to witness the water breaking.

The other lesson that came to me is how, even though we try to block certain things from our daughter, life will seep in, and our daughter will learn. I know that this particular one came in via a movie we allowed her to watch. But I see that she observes anything and everything. She takes it all in.

The thing I learned is that we better make sure that we are ahead of the world. If we cannot be ahead of the world, we better be willing to explain things to her. I have heard it in the past and even said it to others, if you, as a parent, are not willing to talk with your children then somebody else will. We have already talked about today’s subject in the past. We just let this one alone. However, I need to make sure that I have open-ended questions ready when the next play issue comes up. My wife and I better be prepared to answer her questions no matter how much we want to avoid the topic. We don’t have to go deep, but at least enough to let her know she can talk to us at any time.

So now it is time to go put the grand baby to bed. Thank you for meandering with me tonight.

 

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Life Lessons from the AF

Posted on March 5, 2016 by Bob Martin
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Photo courtesy Erik Nilsen

For many nights this week, I have talked about different lessons I learned through many members of my family. Tonight, I will be talking about my other family – my military family. If you have never been in the military, don’t worry, these are lessons that will hopefully bring a smile to anybody’s face. I spent just under ten years wearing the uniform. While I enjoyed my time, I enjoyed the people even more. I made friends with whom I know I will be friends for the rest of my life. Just the same, sometimes things happened with these brothers and sisters in arms that last for a life time.

The first lesson I learned was to always know where your belongings are and to keep your bags closed. Our job included flying – quite a bit actually. A number of people would say that a bad day flying was better than a good day in the office. I loved being on the plane. Believe it or not, the more turbulence we encountered the more I enjoyed the flight. I can still remember my first flight when we dove and since I was standing, I rose. Our time in the air included air refueling. Now for those who have never had the pleasure of sitting on a plane being refueled at 25,000+ than you are missing out on a fun ride. You need to realize that all of the jet stream for the refueler is going down the sides of our plane. I used to think of it as a Ferris wheel in mid-air. Most flyers did not have a problem with this. New flyers…….well some of them did.

I can remember flying one night. The person next to me had a trainee with him. It was a very bumpy flight. I can remember talking to Jeff over the headsets with his trainee listening in. The bumpier it became, the more we talked about things like sardines, eating things like rotten food, and… well you get the drift. I believe one of us opened up our dinner about that time as well. I loved to bring curry dishes from the local restaurant when I flew. The conversation, the smell of the food, and the rocking of the plane did its job on the newbie. Jeff paid the price.

When we flew, we carried our helmets in a bag. We stored them next to us on the floor. Some people, like Jeff, allowed his bag to do double duty. It carried both his helmet and lunch. In Jeff’s bag was an open bag of chips, a can of soda, and other items. Most people, if they were going to lose their lunch would throw off their headsets and run for the bathroom. I guess Jeff forgot to tell his trainee about this. Before we even knew what was happening, he bent over, 90 degrees, between our seats and reached for the first thing he could find – Jeff’s helmet bag. The next thing you knew, the bag had additional weight.

We quickly zipped the bag until the newbie could take in the bag and dump the contents. In the end, I had to give Jeff a ride home with the bag in tow. We learned that if we were going to do such things to have better control of our own property.

The second lesson was that not good deed goes unpunished – or watch how fast your friends can run. Our job had us staying in Riyadh quite often. When the end of our deployment came, the flight out could not come fast enough. For this particular trip, our departure was late at night. The departing crew was all packed and just waiting for the bus to the air terminal. We were bored.

Our housing was outside of Riyadh in a village that had originally been built for the Bedouins who later decided they didn’t like it. Our people were spread throughout the different villas. I called a couple of them to see what they were doing. Since I lived near the villa were the mini-busses were parked, my friends asked me to come get them. What the heck, why not.

I walked next door and retrieved the keys. I headed off to pick-up my buddy. Along the way, I saw others who were flying out that night. They flagged me down and asked me to swing back by to pick them up. They would grabbed their bags and be outside waiting. I ended up driving around and picking them all up. We headed back to the bus parking area to get the sergeant who would be driving us out to the base.

We pulled up and parked. As we disembarked, the mood was light – we were leaving shortly. The next thing we knew this deep, booming, bass voice came out of nowhere, “Who the hell took this bus?” We turned to see that the MSgt in charge of the busses had come out of his villa. I looked as he stood close to me arms crossed. This man was scary. He worked out. I truly believe that he lived in the gym. His biceps were two of my thighs. “I asked who the HELL took my bus?” I turned to my friends for a little bit of support. Nothing. And by nothing, I do not mean no support, I mean there was nobody next to me. All of my “friends” had vanished in less than a second. So there I stood all by myself hearing in many terms that I will not write here about his rules for the busses. Somehow I felt like all the other people in the world had vanished. That night I learned that when your friends can stay out of trouble – they will.

The final lesson is that jokes can backfire and backfire quickly. At one point, we left the Riyadh area and moved into the desert. We moved into an area with no buildings so tent city became our home. At first this was a cool place to live since we really had a chance to live without all of the rules. However, after the upper officers moved in the rules came back. Every Tuesday seemed to bring a whole new slew of rules. This would have been okay had they made sense, but many of the rules that came down seemed to have been made just because they could.

A few of us led by a gentlemen named Kenny started playing with peoples’ minds. We would work on rules and then talk loudly about them in places like the chow hall. It was amazing to see just how fast the rumors would get around. But, one day it almost came back to bite us.

Our showers were supplied with water by huge bladders outside. Water was trucked in and used to fill these bladders. In the summer, due to the heat, hot showers were common since the black bladders would absorb the heat all day long. Kenny, a couple of others, and I decided to play with shower rules. The idea was that a low ranking airman would be stationed with a clip board inside the shower tent. The clipboard would have one stopwatch for each shower. The airman would time each person and the amount of water used. At ten minutes, the airman would tell you that your shower was done. Each group of tents would have a SSgt just in case an airman needed support. We went through our normal louder than normal talk around the unsuspecting. We could see the whispers.

Then a day or two later, I was driving one of the busses, yes the same bus, out to pick up the crew that was returning. Our lieutenant decided to ride out with me and another SSgt to pick up the crew. On the way out, he started to mention the new rules. He then brought up that at the base commanders meeting, somebody brought up that they had heard the shower rule. Nobody knew anything about it, but then, apparently, thought that it was a good idea and started to discuss its possibilities. Kenny and the rest of us realized that we may have really messed this up. Fortunately in the end, the rule never took. We were allowed to shower as long as needed. We did learn though that one must be cautious when playing with the minds of those who make the rules. We wanted to show them how silly they were, but in the end we almost lost the freedom of long showers.

Someday I will describe the toilets in tent city, but that is another story. Thank you for meandering with me tonight.

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Pure Love as Taught by a Mom

Posted on March 4, 2016 by Bob Martin

12809765_1254143464603101_3643748395282162908_nI started writing one post tonight on lessons learned with my military family. While typing away with some funny stories, my computer chimed. Somebody I follow had posted to Facebook. Being the self-diagnosed ADD adult that I am, squirrel, I immediately had to check. My niece had posted pictures as she and my mom end their trip to Hawaii. The pictures included a flight they took on a helicopter. They flew around the Big Island to get an aerial view. The pictures are amazing. I moved from one to the next, but had to stop on one. I looked at my mom. The theme of this tonight’s post changed.

The picture shows my mom smiling. I saw my mom happy. I felt more than happiness. I cannot describe the emotions that flowed through my soul tonight. I saw my mom like I haven’t seen her in a while. I believe I saw peace in her face. I saw what I have not seen for a long time.

I have mentioned that my father passed quite a while ago – June 1980. On the day he passed, my mother became a single mom to four, almost grown, boys. She took on a role that so many others have had to do before that day, and so many more since. We were not young children. We were all in our teens, and my oldest brother was about to graduate from high school. I guess that was a blessing. Like so many others, she took on the role. However, just because others have done it doesn’t make it any easier for anybody entering into this type of life.

From that day forward, my mom has taught me that you must continue. She could easily have given up. As a mid-teen, I watched her as she planned and moved us through the funeral services. She went back to work. She made us all continue. I cannot say that I would be in the same place today had my father not passed, but I can say that I am who I am because of the support and love of this woman.

However, on that day she did not just lose a husband – she lost her love. On a number of occasions I have asked her why she never bothered to date again. Why she never looked for another person with whom to share her life. At first, she always said she couldn’t because she had to take care of us. She had to get us into being adults. Then she stated that due to my brother having handicaps that she must always take care of him. Finally, finally, one day she shared. She told me that she could never love another the way that she loved my father. She quietly said that once you have found the perfect love, you can never find it again. She let me know that my father still filled so much of her heart that she had none to share with another.

Since my dad’s passing, I have seen my mom laugh. I have seen her smile and joke. I have seen happiness on the outside. But through it all, I have never seen true happiness. That, from what I can see in the photo, changed today.

This year my mom and niece have taken two trips. The first was to Europe. She wanted to see Poland, the land of her ancestors. She wanted to go back to London to revisit the places I had taken her a number of times when she had come to visit with me. This trip was the trip that she wanted to take. She visited two countries that had been on her list for years. She had ten days to enjoy sights that she chose. She took the trip that fulfilled a want for her. With the photos from that trip, I saw that she enjoyed herself. She walked the streets that her family had walked. She saw her home. While in England, the pictures showed happiness as she relived memories that she had created. This trip was all about her.

This week, the two travelers took off for Hawaii. My sister-in-law graciously played host and tour guide. They enjoyed five days in paradise. This trip was not like the Europe trip for this was the trip for my parents. When I was little, our parents always told us that they were going to go to Hawaii to celebrate their 25th anniversary. We heard how they would go by themselves to celebrate their marriage. We knew that this was to be the big trip for them. My father passed less than a month after 19. The trip never happened until this week.

We may have purchased two airline tickets for this trip, but three people went. I can tell from conversations with mom that my dad was there as well. Her voice said more than her words would ever speak. I could tell that he was next to her every step she took while on the islands. I could tell that they were together this week. Seeing the photo, I could see it. The two of them were enjoying their time together.

So tonight, the lessons come from my mom – a beautiful woman. She taught me to continue on no matter what happens. She taught me not to feel sorry for myself. She taught me to love and to love complete. My mom taught me that love goes beyond the earthly bonds. Because of this woman, my wife knows that I will love her today, tomorrow, and forever. My mom taught me so much that I can never repay her for it. I learned how to find peace.

Thank you for meandering with me.

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Nana and Great-Granddaughter Lessons

Posted on March 3, 2016 by Bob Martin

Herzen in den Himmel haltenI must say that I have enjoyed the last few nights as I have typed life lessons that my nana taught me. I really enjoy sharing her with you all. It seems that sharing these stories has been very medicinal for me as well. I lose my stress while letting you know what she taught me. I also think it has brought a peace to me as well as it brings me back to my basic way of thinking. I must say that I feel as if I have done a disservice to my parents. They also taught me many lessons, and as time goes on, I promise to share those as well. However, tonight will be a combination of Nana and our daughter. The older generation and the youngest generation – both have so much to give.

Nana taught me in the past, and my daughter continues to teach/remind me every day of the first lesson. No matter how big your problems are, there are other people suffering more. Neither ladies taught me this in words, but in actions. They both showed me that we just need to look around and see what else is happening in the world. You must have both your eyes and heart open in order to do this properly.

Nana spent the last years of her life going through the different stages of cancer. I can still remember standing in the kitchen when my mom shared the news with me. I didn’t know how to take it. While cancer is still an evil disease, in the 80’s I didn’t know many people who suffered the wrath of this life taker. Those I did know had either already passed or would shortly. The survival rate was nothing close to what we have today. In my mind, I had lost her right then and there.

The only thing was that somebody forgot to tell Nana the above facts. She did not give up, and, while suffering through many years, continued to fight until she could fight no more. She would come home to spend the time with us, and I would watch her continue as much of her normal life as the disease would allow. She would not let people feel sorry for her. I could see the pain at different times, but did not dare to talk about it. The hardest was her final Christmas with us. She could not do very much. She needed help to just get up off the couch. By this time, Nana had become dependent on others. One could look at her and think that her problems far outweighed anybody else at that point.

I can remember sitting one night talking to her. Mom worked the night shift and had left for work. The living room was lit by the Christmas lights. We sat there and talked a little – even this took a lot of energy. I do not remember who in the family we were talking about, but she worried for them. She thought that they were going through such a hard time. She was more concerned about the other family members getting through their problems. Nana did not look at her problems as being any bigger than the others. I couldn’t figure out then how she could worry about other people while she was so close to the end. I am learning now as I grow older.

Our daughter seems to be in a different place than I was at her age. While to an adult, the problems of a child may not be that big compared to what we deal with every day, a child does not see it that way. As a matter of fact, having been working with kids for 30+ years, I have seen so many children with problems that dwarf mine in every single way. Yet so many of these children, look at the problems of others and start worrying more about those people. They forget about their own problems. All too often, I will be driving to school with our daughter discussing a problem such as a child being mean or worrying about something in school when she sees a person on the street or someone in the car near us. All of a sudden her concerns are switched to whether the person has enough food or blankets, or if the other driver is sad.

Nana and our daughter, both through memories and daily occurrences, are constantly teaching me to leave my head. Worry about others. Try to help those that you can. Change the world. Our problems find a way to grow when we concentrate on them. Now I am not saying that people do not have problems. If that was the case, I would not have been sending off friends this morning to say good-bye to a loved one. I really write this tonight to remind myself in years to come when I am not so fortunate that even then there will be others suffering more than I ever will. I want to have the grace that Nana had to care about others more.

The second lesson comes from our daughter. We were talking tonight as I started to write. I told her I was writing about lessons. She informed me that the biggest lesson she could share is that you always need a buddy. A person to be there next to you when bad things happen. She told me that nobody should have to go through tough times alone. She described how her buddy swore to be by her side, and she plans to do the same.

I had to smile at this because I realize how much these two lessons go together for if you have that “buddy” then no problem cannot be faced. The buddy might not solve it for you, but he or she will sit with you while you go through whatever bad times you might have. As she was on the cusp of sleep, she asked me who my buddy was. I smiled as I patted her head and said, “Your mommy.” She smiled and drifted off to sleep. I smiled as I realized that I truly do have my buddy. She will keep me grounded at all times. She will always remind me that we can get through anything. She will remind me of the lessons of which I write tonight.

I am sorry if tonight was that light. Not all lessons bring laughs, but they do bring a smile as I look back on those that took the time and cared enough to take the time to teach me.

Thank you for meandering with me tonight.

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More Lessons From Nana

Posted on March 2, 2016 by Bob Martin

ahockeyThe last two posts have been about life lessons I have learned from different family members. I thought I would toss one more lesson out there – well maybe two. It is funny because my Nana shows up once again tonight. My older brother shows up as well, but this is not the same brother that had the Playboy magazines. This is the other one. I must admit that I cannot remember who initiated this one, but I will blame him. If you follow my page on Facebook, you will most likely see my brother claim innocence on this one – don’t believe him.

When we moved in with our Nana, we had two dogs. Our Nana had a little poodle. One of our dogs got along with the poodle, the other one – not so much. Due to this, and not wanting to lose our pet, our dad built an outside kennel complete with dog house. To this day, I always feel sorry for Scamper especially since Alfie, the poodle, had a tendency to not be so nice. This wasn’t his fault; he had been mistreated by previous owners.

Each evening, one of us would go out and feed and water Scamper. In the summer time, I would sit up on his dog house with him. The winter was not so kind to being out there with him at night. I never did understand Scamper because he liked being up on his dog house when it was cold. Just the same, this was something that one of us did nightly. Some nights we had to be pushed out the door – unless it was between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Also in our backyard was a camping trailer. It was cool to have this in our backyard. When we had friends over in the summer, we would sleep in it. We lived in an area were kids could camp in the backyard without fear. Okay, except for the night somebody drove down the dead-end by my cousins ‘house and lit a car on fire in the field. Other than that it was a safe place. The trailer also became my safe haven to do homework, read, or just hide out. The trailer was ours to use until Thanksgiving. At Thanksgiving, the door would be locked.

Our parents used the trailer during the holidays as Santa’s storage. They not only stored our presents in there, but I believe our cousins used it as well. We knew once the door locked that good things could be found inside. We also knew enough to never try to find the key and get inside. Though I was tempted to go in through the trunk a few times. I was small enough to fit in the trunk, and the inside door could be easily popped.

One year, again I am blaming my brother, it was discovered that one of the curtains on the side opposite the house was left with a small gap. We also discovered that by standing on Scamper’s water pail, we could see inside with the help of a flashlight. So each night, my brother and I would volunteer to go take care of Scamper. We could peek inside and see if anything had been added. Since my dad worked midnights, you just never knew when my parents would go shopping.

For the most part, our detective work turned out to be a bust. Items were in boxes or bags. We could see items being added, but not much detail. That trunk started looking better and better until one night. We put the flashlight up to the window and looked. We moved it around what seemed to be a cavern the size of a football field – looking. That is when we saw it. A huge box. This one had writing on it. Air Hockey. Yes. We were getting an air hockey. Score!

I am not sure how my brother and I were able to keep the secret, but keep it we must since our lives would have surely ended it had we spilled. Christmas morning came and we rushed down the stairs. We did our normal family rituals. Please Jesus in the crib, open the stockings, attack the presents. My brother and I kept looking at each other. Presents disappeared from under the tree. No big box was in sight. The last gift was opened. We were all happy, but my brother and I looked at each other. Oh well. I guess our cousin received the Air Hockey. Okay. We would go next door in the afternoon to play.

The rest of the day moved forward like the other Christmases. My mom and Nana started working on the dinner. We were using whatever presents we had received. Both my brother and I walked into the kitchen. Nana let out a little gasp, it was an oh no type gasp. Dad and Mom both looked at her. “We forgot….”

“AIR HOCKEY” we shouted (actually I think my brother shouted it, but he will deny it so I will say we)

All three adults froze. My brother and I looked at each other … knowing. Immediately we were sent to out rooms. I can still hear my father talking to me about how we had hurt Nana. She had planned to have this big surprise for us, and between the two of us – we broke her heart. Christmas lost its joy.

Eventually we were allowed back down to join everyone else. The game had been brought in from the trailer and set up in the basement. Nana had the honors. We were forgiven.

I guess in the end there are three lessons here – 1. Don’t snoop 2. If you know a secret – shut up. 3. Forgive others. I still remember the hurt we caused that day. We never repeated that mistake again. I will say that this story actually won me a prize on the radio in the UK. The show would read out apologies to people and give the back story. Once again, I will say sorry Nana.

Thank you for meandering with me tonight.

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Beware of your Older Brother

Posted on March 1, 2016 by Bob Martin

Magazines close-upToday is Super Tuesday! Everything on television is all about the primaries and who is winning which state. So I thought, after yesterday’s post, I would continue on the light side of posting. While my Nana pops up again to visit with us tonight, she is not the star. Tonight we visit once again with my older brother with whom I went fishing. This time he taught me a different lesson. Beware of your brother.

I cannot remember the exact year that this occurred, but the fact that my dad is involved tells me that it was pre-1980. We lived in my Nana’s house, but she spent only half the year with us. The other half was spent with my Aunt. In the summer, she would get us up early to go out and weed our garden. As far as a kid goes, this was a pretty big vegetable garden. Nana raised all sorts of items, and our job was to keep it free of weeds. I can still remember throwing dirt clods at our cousins whose garden was two feet away from ours. Don’t worry – they returned fire.

Nana was extremely smart and would get us up early to work. While we could never accept her logic, it makes perfect sense now, she always told us to get it done before it became hot and then we could have the rest of the day to ourselves. This meant begging our neighbors across the street to go swimming.

On this particular day, my brothers had something going on for I remember being the only one around. As usual, I was out in the garden weeding. Okay, I was out in the garden picking clods of dirt and dropping them. I would throw some at the fence to see if I could make it through the holes in one piece. I watched insects. I, well I did everything but pull weeds.

I could hear some banging coming out of my bedroom. I knew Nana had plans to fix a problem on my bunk bed. A board had come loose or something. It could not have been that big of a deal since I was fine with it. Nana however did not want it to deteriorate any more. Bang. Bang. Bang. Then silence. I guess it wasn’t that big of a deal.

I went back to dirt toss. Next thing I know the sounds of the birds singing was shattered by Nana yelling for me. Now this was not a normal yell. All three of my names came shrieking threw the air. Every person knows that when your full name is used, you better move it….and you were in trouble. I thought fleeing and claiming ignorance, but I knew better. I booked it for my room.

I took the stairs four or five at a time. I turned the corner and flew through the door to find Nana at the head of my bed holding the mattress high off the frame. There on the slats sat a pile of magazines – Playboy Magazines. (I guess this posting is in honor of the last publication.) The look on Nana’s face was a combination of anger, sadness, disbelief, and shame. I stood mouth agape.

Before she even had the chance to ask, I pleaded innocence. I mind raced for an answer. My eyes fell on my brother’s bed and the light bulb went off. He didn’t want to get caught with the magazines so he hid them under my mattress. Fortunately, I was quickly let off the hook. My brother definitely was more likely to be the culprit in this case. I moved them out to the garage with the rest of his stash.

Since it was Nana’s house, we honored her rules. She spoke to our dad about not wanting those “rags” in her house. My father spoke with my brother with an understanding of what teen males go through. He told him to just get them out of the house. My brother promised to do just that and called a friend to see if he wanted them. The deal was made.

Either that evening or the next, we had rehearsal for our Junior Drum & Bugle Corp. We practiced in the parking lot of Bell Aerospace. The lot took up more than a block. Due to the size, the horn line, drum line, and color guard could all practice in different areas without interfering with the others. We also had enough space to mark out a football field to learn our moves. The horn line always went to the far corner to work music at the start of practice.

Our dad, being the director of the group, held meetings with officials from the Drum Corps International (DCI) organization while preparing for our home show. On this particular night, he had high-end officials there to meet and talk about how the show would happen. They walked around the practice for a little, and then they were ready to get down to business. My dad asked them to walk with him to our van so he could get his briefcase. The approached the back doors, and my dad reached for the handle. As soon as the door had the slightest of openings out they came. No longer was this a little stack of magazines. My brother had an entire box of the publication. Out they all came, out from the van, out from the box, and all around my dad’s feet. There he stood with the officials from DCI looking down at the pavement.

Now earlier I mentioned how loud Nana yelled when she first found these magazines. My father’s yell made hers sound like a whisper. He didn’t have to use my brother’s full name. Every horn became silent. They entire line looked over at my brother. I cannot remember if it was my brother or somebody else that went, “oh oh, he found the magazines.”

So my brother taught me two things with this incident. Beware of your brother and always check under your mattress when you share a room.

I hope you enjoyed tonight’s meander. Thank you for reading.

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Lessons from Nana

Posted on February 29, 2016 by Bob Martin

nanaSince the adults in this story are no longer around, I feel that it is safe for me to post this story and not worry about them getting into trouble. I am also free to post this since the people who owned the establishment are also long gone. However, these people had such an impact on my life that they will always be with me. Stories like the one I am about to share will be in my memory to recall for the remainder of my time.

My Nana, Nana for she decided when my oldest brother was born that she was too young to be a Grandma, was a loving, caring, but tough as nails little old Polish woman. She took no gruff from us or anyone else. She was the first of her family to be born in this country. Her sisters had all been born in Poland with one of them having remained behind when the family first moved here. Nana and Papa went through the Great Depression. During the first part of their marriage, they were separated while my Papa served in the Army. They made it through a lot. They eventually bought property and built a home to raise my Mom and Aunt. Like so many of their generation they had a toughness to them, and they used any given moment to teach a lesson.

Nana knew how to be tough and teach in a unique way. I can only remember one time when she laid a hand on me, and, well……….. I deserved it. She found ways to get you to think about what you did or said in order to get you to change – and guilt. Being from a Polish, Catholic family guilt was used as a tool to teach quite often.

I am not sure if children ever hear the guilt line at dinner like we heard. I do know that many of my friends heard similar lines while growing up. Nana really knew how to cook, and her meals were outstanding. I credit her with my ability to whip together dinner from scraps. Be that as it may, a kid does not always feel like eating no matter how good the food (I was going to list things like golumpki, but you have to be Polish to get it). I can remember sitting at the table with a plate of food in front of me. Being the grandchild of immigrants, it could be used against you at the drop of the hat. I would complain that I wasn’t hungry. If I said this in front of Nana, I would then get a list of relatives that were starving back in Poland. The nastiest look I ever received was when I asked if I could package it and ship the food to them. I saw those eyes stare at me – I ate.

I know my cousins in Poland did suffer. They were growing up in the time of Communism. I can remember all the care packages that Nana and others would put together to send to them. I would hear the stories. Growing up I feared for them, and due to the number of times I heard about their lack of food, I never spoke back about eating after that.

Nana also taught me to never get cocky and talk smack. As I have written before, I grew up in a rural area with a small village. During second grade, my Church School took place on Saturday mornings. The classes were held in the basement of the church. Afterwards, I would walk the two blocks to the family bar. I loved being able to do this. I felt so grown-up to be allowed to do this. I also loved the bar. It is a huge stone building from the 1840s. It has a great basement that, with a child’s imagination, could hold robbers, critters, and ghosts. Even as an adult when I cleaned in the mornings the ghosts would still pop into my head when I went downstairs. I also loved this place because this is where the family lived when my Mom was very young. Between the upper floors and an apartment off to the side, Nana’s family lived and grew.

The bar had a kitchen and offered lunches. Nana was one of the cooks. She would work the weekends and many other times. I believe her potato salad is still served. So I would walk over from church and sit in the kitchen having lunch until Nana finished her shift. Every weekend my cousin, Uncle John, would come in to say hello and ask me what I wanted to drink. Being a cocky little seven-year old, I always requested a beer. I received a coke. This happened every week until – that one day.

I came in and sat down. Uncle John came in and greeted me. He had a deep friendly voice. I responded back a cheerful hello with my request for a beer. Nana and Uncle John looked at each other, totally unnoticed by me. He went back out to the bar and returned with, yep, a beer. My eyes must have popped out of my head for the two of them started laughing. Then Nana spoke up with, you asked for it – you drink it. I stared at the glass afraid to touch it. I believe I ate half my lunch before even trying to lift it. I took a sip and requested a coke. I learned that day that one must be careful with being cocky and asking for things that they do not want.

The last lesson that comes to mind tonight is when I was eighteen. Like I said, Nana was a LITTLE, Polish woman. By the time I had reached my full height, she only came to my chest. I still obeyed and revered her, but I could still make mistakes. For the life of me, I cannot remember the conversation that we were having. I know it was serious, and I know I had done something to get her angry with me. However, there was something funny going on in my head as this short person was taking me down to size. I had a huge smirk on my face.

She stopped in mid-sentence to look at me. She froze. Slowly the words came out of her mouth. “Wipe that smirk off your face.” What happened next, I cannot explain. Something took over my body and made me do it. I swear it was not me. Even slower than her words had come out, my hand raised to my face. The back of my left palm reached across to the right corner of my smirk. My hand passed over my lips with my letting go of the smirk as the skin crossed. I let me hand down and stood there struggling not to have a smirk on my lips. That is until she reached up and smacked me.

I fell backwards more in shock than from pain. The smirk forever gone. Nana had never touched me in anger before, and now something I did brought her to a level that I had never seen. I learned that day that actions hurt just as much as words. Even more I learned how easy it is to hurt somebody you love so deeply. I learned a new type of sadness that day.

There are so many other lessons Nana taught me. She was there for us when my mom became a single mom. She gave advice, she gave support, and she gave love. I hope that I can teach lessons to my daughter, in different ways, to our daughter that will stick with her and give her cause to write about them some day. What about you – what lessons did you learn from adults other than your parents?

Thank you for meandering with me today.

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