It used to be that this idea was a given.  For our grandparents, our parents and even for some of us who are a bit older.  Of course we all sat down together for dinner.  What else were we supposed to do?  Where else would we be?  We probably did not realize that that time together was part of glue that held our families, our family life together.  It was simply something we did every night after everyone was home from school and work.  It was part of our daily lives.  A time to share and break bread and reflect, together, on the things that had taken place in each of our days.

Sadly, nowadays, this is not a given.  And of all times when this tradition should be vitally important, it is often ignored.  In this age of techology, when we communicate so often through technology, be it cell phones, emails, social networking websites, etc., human, face to face, eye to eye contact is not experienced.  But we are social creatures.  We need, desire and crave that human touch.  Desire to look into someone else’s eyes and see their soul reflected there.  It’s all well and good to express your feelings and talk about your day’s happenings in a quick post on Facebook or what have you, but let’s be honest, are we completely honest in those posts?  Do we really want to all those people our most intimate and private thoughts and feelings?  I don’t think we do.  And even if we do, something, by the very nature of such communication, gets lost in the translation.  A smily face cannot possibly express true, unabashed joy.  In the same way, a sad face doesn’t express the true depth and breadth of sadness.  Is it just a little ouch or is it gut wrenching sobs?

And who better to share these most honest feelings with than with the people who matter most to you?  Your family.  Whether it’s gathering around the dining room table, sitting on a blanket having a picnic, or what have you, the mere act of sitting down with each other, passing the potatoes and the salt and pepper, breaking bread can be a healing part of our long, often arduous day.  We can let our hair down, smile across the table at our spouse or children, refortify our beings-both physically and emotionally by simply sharing that little half an hour together.   (A key point here is to do so without distractions such as a television or the interruption of phone calls-we turn our phones off during our dinner time.)  This is a time to focus on one another, on our family, to let each other know that the other people are more important to us than other things that can demand our attention.

One of my dearest friends told me a long time ago that one of the things that her grown children always talked about when they got together later in life was how important that family dinner was to them in their memories.  They recalled how no matter how crazy their day had been, they knew that at dinner time, they would all gather and there was someone there who cared and would listen to them.  Those are the types of things I hope my children remember most.

So often, we get caught in with thinking that what will matter most to our children when they are grown up and on their own will be their memories of material things we were able to give them.  But when you think back on your childhood, do you remember what you got for your 12th birthday or the times you and your family were just hanging out, being together?  Those happy and warm memories.  They are the ones that fill you with those warm, fuzzy feelings of yesterday.

We all need a time in our day to reconnect with other people.  Life can get crazy busy, schedules often get so heavy we don’t know how to find, but let’s try to remember how important those face to face connections are, for ourselves as well as the loved ones in our lives, and make time to, on a more frequent basis, to sit down at the family dinner table together.

One Sunday evening, several weeks ago,  I took a walk by myself after having a very challenging emotional day.  I was like the Tazmanian devil all day.  Unsettled internally; feeling like a total maniac and a horrible mother, etc.  Finally around 7:30, I realized I just had to get away from everything.  As I was heading over to our favorite walking spot, just down the road, I realized how many times I have said I just need to get away by myself, get away from everything, even if just for a day or two.  It hit me all at once that one thing I cannot get away from is myself.  Getting away from the other stuff is relatively easy.  But how do I get away from the ‘shitty committee’ that screams so loudly in my head?  How would I truly relax when the me inside would be there, being its typical hamster, running and running and running in that silly little ball.

As I started walking, the tears were streaming down my face.  What had happened?  Why couldn’t I be, why wasn’t I that person I had always so wanted to be? Why was I screaming at my beautiful, precious children?  Children I had fought so hard to have.  First there was James.  After being told that without very expensive procedures to help me get pregnant (which we couldn’t possibly afford), there was hardly any chance that we would ever have children biologically, we embarked on the road to adoption.  Miraculously, within two months, we were holding our precious two day old baby boy in the NICU of the Alaska Native Medical Center.  Then there was the unforgettable day when our fertility specialist told us that we were pregnant at long last, and not just with one, but with three miracles.  And then, totally out of the blue, came the unexpected miracle of the little Frankster.  All five of these incredible gifts, our children, are so precious to me and yet I don’t seem to be able to enjoy them as I want to.  To revel in them.  Because I’m constantly working, constantly worrying and fretting about money.  How to pay the bills.   I work my butt off constantly, in front of the computer, day and night.  On and on.   The pressure, the stress, the worries.  All those things take me away from what I really want.  And I feel like it’s all my fault.

But, as I walked, I looked around at the beauty of my surroundings; the rolling hills and mountains, the barn swallows chasing the evening insects, the cows grazing lazily in the fields, the red winged blackbirds perched along the fence posts, the colors of the setting sun playing against the backdrop of the clouds that dotted the sky.  And it made me stop and think about the fact that all these gifts that are freely given, to me, to enjoy, to soak up, to be a part of.  As I crested the top the of the last hill in the first half of my walk, there,  in the field were three beautiful white tailed deer.  So gorgeous and the perfect bow to the package that was wrapped all around me.  Like the icing on the cake.  I watched them for a few minutes until they caught my scent in the breeze and bounded off into the safety of the woods.

As I turned to head back the way I came, I took some deep, soul-cleansing breaths and decided I needed to stop lamenting all my failures, stop focusing on the fears and worries, and look at things in a different light.  In the light of all that I have been blessed with.  In light of those ‘gifts freely given’.  And it occurred to me, one of those ah-ha and duh moments, that not just was the beauty of nature a gift freely given, but so was, so are my children, my marriage, my home.  Duh! (Yes, some of those gifts were worked for, but they were miracles, gifts in my life, nonetheless.) And here I was, screaming at them, ignoring them, pushing them to the side, treating them in way that was not at all appreciative.  I have been taking them for granted.  And because of some of the situations that I, myself, had created, I was taking out my frustrations and angst on them.  How dare I do that?  I realized it was time for that to stop.  It was a freeing moment, a freeing realization.

Over the next few days, my thoughts focused on this newly found relief.  And the ah-ha’s expanded.  Here I am.  I have been given these incredible gifts.  Gifts I dreamed of all my life.  But I wasn’t ‘using’ them.  I wasn’t showing them the appreciation and the love and thankfulness they deserved.  I was, in sad reality, ignoring them, taking them for granted.  Yes, they had been given to me and they were mine but there it ended.  I wanted more, I needed more.  All these other things were interfering.  The fears, the worries, the frustrations, The need to work constantly.  To do more.  To prove more.  And it hit me, how can I have room in my life for more gifts if I haven’t even opened and enjoyed the ones that I already have?  There is no room for anything more.  It’s like if you get a ton of gifts for Christmas and instead of opening them, you just stack them in a corner, unopened, unused, unloved, unappreciated and leave them there.  When the next Christmas rolls around, no one is going to give you anything else because you haven’t even played with what they gave you last year and they see that you have no room for anything more.  It’s all well and good to visualize and dream and set goals and put your thoughts out in the universe, but when your gift basket is full, you have to appreciate, not just with lip service of thanks, but also with your actions of gratitude, the gifts in that basket.  Share your love with them.  Only then can more gifts be added to your basket.  But, and this is a big but, you cannot appreciate the gifts you already have just because you want more.  You must freely give your love and appreciation, with no expectation of anything back in return.  Yes, it’s a no brainer that that which you put out there will come back to you, but you can’t do it for that reason, for that expectation.  You do it with true and honest love in your heart.  True gratitude.  And gratitude, thanks, thanksgiving and appreciation all require action.  Not just words.

My life has changed since that walk.  Yes, the challenges are still there but internally, my soul, my perspective has shifted.  I am cherishing my gifts.  Taking time out to play games with the kids, go to the lake with the family, embrace them just because.  Is it all roses and peaches?  No, but those moments of togetherness, those “Mommy, I love you.” moments, taking time to breath and relish that which is around me make the challenges less daunting and overwhelming.  Each day is a new opportunity to enjoy these wonderful gifts I have been so blessed with.  A corner has been turned in my life.  A new chapter has begun and I am so thankful I turned that page at long last.

I had the most wonderful Mother’s day this year.  Nothing exotic, expensive or frilly.  Just a relaxing, fun day with my five children and my husband.  I slept in, until 10:30 am, and got up to a spic and span house.  Joe and the kids had cleaned the entire downstairs, including mopping the kitchen floor! I promised myself that I would take the whole day and not work a lick and I stuck to that promise.  (A very difficult thing for a workaholic to do.)

After hanging out on the front porch, sipping my several cups of morning coffee, we all piled in the car and headed over the NC Arboretum.  We took a leisurely four plus mile hike around their grounds.  The weather was just perfect.  Not too hot, a nice breeze blowing through the trees, clear blue skies.  When we got back home, Joe and the kids made a delicious pork roast with potatoes and applesauce.  It was the perfect way, the perfect day to celebrate motherhood.  Relaxing, cherishing and spending time with my family.  Yep.  Life is good.

Love note from my husband, today, our 20th anniversary:

“Willy Wonka might not have been right. The man who got everything he wantED, might not have lived happily ever after. I know that I have more than I could have ever dreamed of. Everything I have, every adventure we’ve had, every story that people tell about us is because of YOU. My sweet Lorelei. Please forgive me if sometimes I forget that. The best thing I ever did was to go to 45 Cherry Street that night. Always know that you are the reason I smile, the reason I breathe. I can’t imagine what the next 20 years and beyond will bring, but I know it will be wonderful because I’ll spend it with you. I love you.”

Oh, yeah, that’s the man I married!

Me and Joe