On January 19th tears filled my eyes as the nurse plugged me up to the heart monitor. I held on to Marcus’ hand in search of some comfort. I watched with fear as the nurse put the IV in my arm, and tears filled my eyes again.
I was hoping to make it through life without ever having to be put to sleep, but thanks to four very disobedient wisdom teeth, that hope was crushed. The procedure only took 2 minutes, or so it seemed. I woke up and found them disconnecting me from the monitors. I searched for Marcus, and tears filled my eyes when I didn’t see him. I needed his comfort! A few minutes later he walked into the room. His presence made me smile. I was fine now.
Marcus took me home and made me something to eat. While I ate and drooled all over my shirt, he said “Babe, grandma died”. Tears... Again! He was a bit surprised at my reaction and then he said, “No babe, my other grandma, you haven’t met her.” I felt a bit confused. How do you just suddenly stop crying for one grandma and figure out what to do for the other one? It felt weird to be crying for someone I’ve never met. Then my focus shifted to Marcus and his strength. He was the one that really needed the comfort today, but he gave it all to me.
Road Trip! One of our favorite things. Grandma Rosa was from South Carolina and we took the drive down on Sunday Morning for her funeral on Monday. While we drove Marcus introduced me to Grandma Rosa. He told me stories about his life growing up with her. I didn’t know what to expect from this trip. I was excited to be on the road, but also a bit timid to the idea of attending a funeral.
Our first stop on Sunday was at the funeral home. We were going to look at the body! That is such a very creepy thing to do. But I played it cool. I sat and watched family and friends stand in awe at a lifeless Rosa Lofton. Part of me expected wailing and moaning, but it was a peaceful and light experience. Some people just smiled down at her, others stroked her hair, some kissed her forehead, but all walked away from her saying “she’s absolutely beautiful!” That surprised me. This was a wrinkled old woman pumped full of embalming fluid, well, that’s all I could see. But then it occurred to me that they saw her life, their experiences with her, and the memories that will live on as she rests. WOW, How awesome.
I’m now on my way to my first funeral. Marcus gave me some code of conduct tips and a heads up of what to expect. We gathered at the family home after breakfast for pictures and to apparently wait for the limousines. Limousines for a funeral, who would have thought?
The funeral was lovely… it really was. The funerals I see on TV are usually filled with sad, crying faces and women wearing dark sunglasses. I chose to sit in the very back row of the church and observe the proceedings. Laughter, smiles, stories, all poured from those that spoke about Rosa’s life. There were moments of weakness and tears as they considered their loss, but those were quickly whisked away by some memory of her life. Rosa Lofton was a teacher, she loved fishing, and she was the fun grandma. She made great biscuits and jelly cake. Rosa Lofton touched lives. Her family shared stories about the thousands of students she impacted in her 42 years of teaching. Cousins, Nephews, Nieces, Grandkids, spoke about how Rosa helped them when they needed it most, how she changed their lives. Rosa was a simple woman but her heart made her great. I was inspired.
I never thought much about what people would say about me after I’m gone. Those who read my blog have seen my sardonic comments about coffins and funerals. They have been softened. Somewhat.
I’ve spent much of my life searching for a calling and a purpose, looking to do something grand, wondering who to help and how. Rosa has taught me to stop looking and just do. The people that need you are the people that God has put around you. Do simple things every day. These are the things that add up to a great eulogy.
The caption that accompanies this video is: "If more black women thought like this woman, relationships and marriages would be successful."
This first time I watched this video I was surprised that a woman was brave enough to come on TV with such a declaration. I was more so surprised by the number of favourbale responses that floated through my facebook newsfeed in response to the video. I felt pleased to know that there were still women out there that were not afraid of the word submission. It made me smile... until today when I saw this response to the video:
"Okay...so I know i am a drama queen. and to be sure i heard what i heard..i listened 3x..and i was shocked that it was the same bulls*** echoing from my speakers all 3x. Why are we teaching our women to think and act like a supporter, a follower. Why are acting like this view that women should be submissive is okay. It is not! And why are our gender roles being dictated by our genitalia? *sigh* Am I to believe that just because my man wants to lead i must follow regardless of what i think of where he is leading me to? I have no opinions...I am sooo pissed right now. SCREAMING CONJUGAL ROLES... and by far the worst statement is Monique´s as to why women are single ¨because they won´t submit¨ GRRRRRR!!!! well, if that´s the case, call me crazy _ with 50 friggin cats!!! I´d rather be old and by myself and happy than old, married and unhappy...KMT!!"
Good Gravy!
I had to leave a response, but not necessarily for her, more for other women who will come across the post to see that there is life, beauty and happiness in submission. I wrote:
"I think the key is to first find a man that is worth following, listening to and submitting to. Submission is a requirement in any relationship whether business, spiritual, familial, emotional, sexual. Too many cooks spoil the broth. Too many heads in any relationship is misery. It's a matter of accepting and honoring someone as the head and allowing them to lead. Some women choose to be the head, but at the same time don't consider a submissive type man to be attractive. A submissive woman is not an unhappy woman... the misery and frustrations comes from the type of relationship and partner that you choose. If you choose someone that shares your values, someone you trust has your best interest at heart and are confident that they work hard everyday to give you all you need and want, what would hinder you from being supportive? There has been a huge shift and more and more women want to be bread winners until they wake up and see a house-husband lying beside them. I believe it is our nature to seek strength, provision, protection from our men."
Why does the idea of submitting to a man breed such fury in women? I'm lead to believe that they have never experienced a happy relationship neither for themselves nor even witnessed one in their peers. That's heart breaking! We are creating a cycle of broken homes and broken hearts because they simply have no good examples to follow. Will the real happy women please stand up! Share your stories... I want to hear them, and they NEED to hear them.
What makes submission so demeaning? Why does submission mean losing your voice and losing your self? Why does submission make you feel like you get left out?
I belive every relationship is different, and as a result each relationship will assign roles differently, but in every case, someone has to submit. If a couple decides that the woman will handle the nurturing of the children (which is natural anyway), the man will also have to submit to some decisions she makes in the best interest of the children. When a man is given a role, we also need to submit and give him the opportunity to lead. There is nothing demeaning about that, it's just plain "Order".
Not every man wants the same thing though, so that's good news. If you realize that you are not the submissive type, don't get attached to a man that is looking for that type. There are men out there that want to be lead, that one's for you. That's the whole point of dating and courtship. You get to ask these questions. "Baby, what kind of wife are you looking for?" "I want a career woman! Someone to match or challenge my income and work towards building an empire with me" If that's you girl then go for it! But if his response is "I want someone to be a nurturer, caregiver, homemaker. Someone who will be there when I get home. Someone who has time and interest to build a family with me." and you know that's not your thing then that's where you kiss and say good-bye. Unfortunately, that's the point where most women that I know start wanting to prove that they can wash, cook and clean just so they can keep the guy. Why? Why would you work to keep a guy you really don't want? Why would you prove you can do things you have no interest in doing? Beats me.
One of my guy friends tells me that he has women call him back after a break-up asking why it didnt work, and over and over has to tell them he is not looking for a career woman. They throw angry words at him for a while then call back again asking why he wont just give it a chance. That's the main difference between men and women I think. Men are more likely to walk away from something they clearly do not want.
We need to find a way to redifne the word submission to make it less scary. I can understand how it got its bad reputation, but if you've never even tried it, how can you speak so ugly about it?
I'm told it's "different strokes for different folks". I disagree.
How much do you weigh? What size do you wear? Does it really matter?
I've been fat all my life. 50% of you will agree with me, the other 50% probably read that statement with some confusion and concern for my state. I've been thinking a lot lately about what makes us fat. Ofcourse there is the obvious over indulgence and laziness, the two things we spend most of our waking hours watching infomercials about and getting advice on how to tackle them. Well, i'm finding that those aren't the only culprits. You may already know, but some of these are new to me.
PEOPLE - Yes, people make us fat. No! I don't mean they force feed us soda and french fries, but they force us to be unnaturally conscious about our bodies. If you run into 20 people today, 10 will greet you with "oh my you've been putting on weight!", 8 will say "Wow have you been working out?', and the final 2 real friends you may have will just say it's good to see you. That doesn't happen to you? My bad, well it happens to me all the time. Countless times I've left home feeling pretty awesome about me and my outfit but come home feeling fat because of a casual comment. I'm sure they don't mean any harm, but commenting on body size has become as cliche as saying "Hi, how are you?". it just rolls off the tongue. Some people can't help it. Even when they don't say it, they think it. It's like we're in constant copetition and when we see we are winning we have to declare victory. "HEY you're looking fatter than me today, how are you?" We need to learn how to manage these comments so it doesnt affect what we know to be true about our bodies.
CLOTHES - Don't laugh, I'm being real. Our wardrobe is filled with clothing in numerous sizes. Some things fit, other things, well, we might fit them again 
one day. Sometimes we forget that we've had that dress since high school and try to wiggle into it, when it doesn't pass the hips then "UGH I'm so fat!". The other issue with clothing is that they are designed based on either Barbie bodies, or 12 year old boyish figures. Take six different women who say they are a size 8, look at the shape of their bodies. One is wider in the hip, one in the butt, one has thick thighs, one has a muffin, one has big boobs, one is shaped like a rectangle and one is 6 feet tall. What happens when all these women walk into a store to buy size 8 clothes? They walk away feeling fat. I get that it must be quite a challenge for manufacturers to style clothing to fit the awesome range in body types 
and shapes, but that's for them to figure out. I notice a trend with the new "curvy girl" styles, but that's just a small step towards fixing the problem.
MEDIA - The photoshopped world! I heard a comment recently that "not even those girls look like those girls, so why should we expect to" He was refering to the made up, photoshopped, art directed poses of the perfect women we see in the media. I'm somewhat fond of the unofficial "without makeup" campaigns that show what celebrities really look like when they are off the clock; It helps us to measure ourselves correctly. So now if you really want to compare, go take a picture of your self all made up, get it photoshop then compare. If you're still not happy, then go photoshop it some more. It's absolutely unfair to compare our natural bodies to magazine covers, it will always leave us feeling fat.
FAT EYES - I have fat eyes. No matter what the scale says, no matter the number on the tape measure, no matter how many hours I spend at the gym, when I catch my reflection in the mirror it looks fat. There are some days I will be getting dressed and just feel and look absolutely fabulous, but that's in the minority; moreso because of people, media and clothes. Women tend to have a skewed concept of their body type and size (i'm guessing men do too). I read a blog recently about a woman on her weight loss journey. She pointed a woman out to her husband one day and said "I can't wait til i'm her size". Her husband was surprised at her statement and said "Babe, you are so much smaller than she is". So here is a woman trying to lose weight, working towards this visual goal that she had surpassed even before starting the journey. How frustrating is it to be working towards something you've already achieved, but you just dont know it yet? Thats like working all your life to buy a house then have someone tell you that you've owned one all along. I'd be pissed and happy at the same time. So anyway, when I read her blog I thought, "Hey I do that too".
When I realized that i had Fat Eyes I started asking my husband if i was bigger or smaller than women I see. I can imagine its awkward for him to answer, but I prefaced it with the reason I asked. I was wrong about all the women I thought I was bigger than or atleast the same size as. There was one woman who I thought I was on par with, even after being told I was not i wasn't sold. I recently saw a picture of us standing side by side and was in shock. I was dwarfed horizontally and vertically by her. How is it that I can't see this? Having Fat Eyes i'm guessing is some sort of non-clinical disroder where women see themsselves as fat and as a result, perpetually pursue weightloss programs.
I've decided from now on that I wont pursue a particular size, shape or number. It's endless and impossible. I will instead pursue a body that makes me feel healthy and confident. I think you should too. I don't think there is any one ideal. I was a size 4 before but that didnt make me feel confident. I know I wasn't healthy either, just slender. I felt like a 12 year old. I like feeling womanly, so I welcome a little more roundess, and I defintely enjoyed the few donuts that helped bring me here! I've also been a size 10-12 before and that was a mess for me. Do you know what its like to feel like your skin is on too tight? I was a mess. That motivated me to come down a bit. I'm just a few nudges away from my size confident, but i'm very awarre now that it's not my scale or my eyes that will assure me that i've arrived.
We can't be happy at a size that someone else tells us to be. I get that peer pressure is a pain, but we need to take back the reigns. There are some pretty confident and healthy size 16 AND size 2 girls out there. Find your size confident. I'm definitely not promoting obesity (every blog needs a good disclaimer), but the next time someone asks what size you are, just say... "I'm a size confident"
Consecration: Web definitions: a solemn commitment of your life or your time to some cherished purpose (to a service or a goal);
Every January, my church - WOCC goes through a period of consecration. It is essentially a tithe of our year, 36.5 days. it is a very powerful period of fasting, prayer and sacrifice. This year we are fasting from January 2nd until February 3rd.
The idea behind the consecration is to "deny our flesh for a spiritual and natural purpose. Indeed, our spirits, souls, and bodies are cleansed and renewed during this special time." Most of us have lost control over some of the things we choose to walk into each day. We over eat, we over sleep, we under serve, we under worship, and a whole host of other indulgences. Last year I chose to give up Ice Cream, something I was seemingly addicted to. During the fast I went through serious withdrawal, upset and sometimes anger because of it. I found that it was my comfort. I thought Jesus was my comfort, but Ice Cream had snuck its way in and taken His place. I'm grateful that my eyes were opened to that fact. I still have ice cream on occasion, but not the weekly quart that I was consuming last year. My scale is grateful.
There are different ways to fast. Different things to give up. Different methods of challenging the flesh and being committed. Most participants are doing water only for a week. Denying their flesh of food. I've fasted many times, usually a few times throughout the year I'll do water or juice only. For this consecration, I needed more of a challenge. I know I can go 30 days without desserts, meat, and bread, so what was my flesh-eating monster?
After much evaluation I realized that I LOVE the lazy, gluttonous feeling. It's such a luxury to lay around in the bed on a Saturday morning, or go through a whole bag of cookies while watching a movie. Just because I'm my own woman and I can! That's where I need some control. That's where I need to sacrifice. So I decided. This year I am committed to not being lazy or gluttonous. I commit to going to the gym for atleast 30 minutes every day, have atleast one salad everyday, and to consume snacks and desserts in moderation.
I missed the first day of the fast because I lay in bed at 5am convincing myself it was not an official work day so I didnt have to start the fast; I didnt have to go to the gym. The second day I drove to the gym and sat outside for 10 minutes before draaaaggiinng myself inside. Day three... I didn't make it there unitl midday. Why is it soo hard? I've gone to the gym before and I usually like it. Being in there isnt the hard part really, it's getting there. It's 9:38pm and I havent made it there today, and I'm embarrassed to say I'm making up excuses not to go while I write this.
Cookies! Chocolate covered potato chips! Just telling yourself you can't have something heightens the desires. But i'm not depriving myself, I'm jst saying don't eat 20! Two cookies after dinner should satiate my desires right? Unfortunately not. My neighbors gave me 2 coupons to Krispy Kreme for a free donut and hot chocolate. I'm about to go off on my husband if he doesn't take me there before they expire.
I knew it would have been challenging, but not THIS challenging. We are only 4 days into the fast and I have already asked my husband if we could take a break. He looked at me without judgement, but with much disappointment. I looked away shamefully yet recommited.
I have become such a monster! I know it's the withdrawal phase, but Good Lord give me strength. I'm embarrased at what I see. I'm hoping that as I persevere through this time that I will wake up one day with a message of victory to blog about. A victory means great things because I would have gained control and be better able to manage my health and my time this year and be more productive. Such a bright and glorious light at the end of this tunnel.
In the mean time.. I want cake :-(
I hope your efforts (if your are participating with us) is going a lot better than mine.
I'm described as "weird" pretty often. When I was younger being weird was unwelcomed. I always felt that I should fit in, even though I was never willing to do what was required to fit in. Whether the current fad was having sex, drinking, being uncouth or unChristian, I knew early enough that those choices while they seeminlgy offered some short term pleasures, had no place in my life. So I just continued being weird.
Fast forward to my twenty-somethings, and still weird. I chose to do things that were complety outside the norms like purchasing my home at 25. The nay-sayers did their best to deter my efforts, but I again chose to be wierd.
Now it's 2011. I'm married, living in the US, and seemingly more weird than I was growing up. I've adopted new ways of being different, some from my husband, and some from pure innocence or ignorance to how (and why) things are done here. We just survived the Christmas season. I chose the word "survived" very carefully, because some of us almost didn't make it through. This past Christmas was another time in my life when my weirdness stood out.
There a so many traditions fluttering through this season. Shopping, Carolling, Christmas Trees, Santa Claus, Baby Jesus in a Manger, Food, and lots of busy stressed out folk. The most disturbing thing however, is that most people don't know why some of these traditions even exist. Don't believe me? Ask someone. Better yet, Ask yourself. The Baby Jesus story is pretty popular, and possibly the only tradition that makes sense in the season, yet not much emphasis is placed on him leading up to the day. The season lasts about 30 days and He gets just one day. I guess in every right Christmas Day is His day, all the other days belong to the planning and shopping.
Let's tallk about shopping. I hear people complain that Christmas has become heavily commercialised. But really it's all about supply and demand. There is a high demand for "things" in the season as people go about finding gifts for their loved ones, and all the market is doing is supplying as much of these "things" as they believe the demand will absorb. There is quite a lot "stuff" disguised in sales and bows that are apparently exactly what you need to make Christmas day special for someone you love. Really? Are you really falling for it? All this hoopla surrounding things and stuff tend to make people more tired and stressed out than anything else. There is panic and disappoinments from not finding or getting the perfect gift. The weird in me leans heavily towards wanting to spare myself and my family from that sort of seasonal frustration. Hubster and I had decided from last year (our first Christmas together) that we would not do gift exchanges. Instead, we use this time to relax, visit friends and family and enjoy and bond with each other. I like having a Christmas that is defined with words like festive, happy, relaxed, holy, rather than santa, giftcards, traffic and stress. I bask in the peace of not having to be out in the streets. When I hear people comment on how crazy it is out there I just smile, put my feet up and take another sip of my sorrel. Before I close the topic, I would like to offer some advice; If you find yourself taking out loans, and credit cards to be able to afford gifts, and posting Craiglist ads asking for financial help to finish up your shopping, you may want to consider cancelling Christmas this time around, because that's just weird.
"Mommy, where do Christmas tress come from?" "I don't know honey, just be quiet and hang the ornaments."
It would seem that the tradition of Christmas trees has passed from generation to generation with such a response. I have asked many people who choose to erect trees in their living rooms during the season that one simple question, "Why?". The popular response is that it's just tradition. Well, that's just not good enough for me.
I just can't bring myself to do something just because the masses are doing it. I have done some googling and found a bunch of ums and ahs but no solid explanations of the tradition. From Martin Luther to Paradise Trees, to a funny story about a wife who woke up and found her drunk husband had cut down a tree and brought it into the living room. I have never had a Christmas tree, and probably never will. People look at me strange when I dont get excited about their Christmas tree, or when I express that I have no plans purchase a tree and millions of tiny light bulbs, but that's ok because even though it may be one of the prettiest traditions of the season, I still think it's weird.
I'm not sure how to address the issue of Santa Claus. I strongly believe that parents have allowed this tradition to penetrate generations because... umm.. well.. I have no clue. Why do parents teach their kids about Santa Claus? I don't have children, but I am already thinking about what I will be teaching them. I like the story of St. Nicholas and even that one has many different versions, but all of which share a moral of kindess towards children and the poor. I can't see how that got twisted into a fat man flying through the sky on reindeer who then climbs through the fire place to eat your cookies. That's just weird.
Boxing Day is largely a commonwealth holiday. Decades ago "Alms Boxes" would be placed in churches on Christmas Day for people to donate gifts and money. The day after Christmas, the boxes would be opened and the contents shared with the poorer members of the church. What an awesome tradition, yet, I've never seen or experienced it. Isn't that weird? Boxing day as I know it is the day to recover from over eating on Christmas Day; The day to return or regift the "lame" presents you dont like.
Traditions tend to transform into concepts that feed our selfish, gluttonous, greedy ways. Many of the traditions we incorporate in our lives are a little ridiculous. I've watched that Jim Gaffigan video a few times and I have to admit, hearing some of these tradition broken down does make us sound like a bunch of drunks, and I think, that's weird.
We spend so much of our limited resources over extending ourselves for meaningless traditions. Our lives would be so much more fulfilling if we spent some time understanding the purpose behind our actions, finding the real meaning behind our tradtitions so that we can replace the stress in executing them with a little joy and reverence.
These days, I embrace my weirdness. I'm ok with not doing what everyone else is doing 'just because'. I like to know that my actions will add some value to my life or to others. So, call me weird but know this, because of it, my life is happy, and full of meaning. I encourage you do some research before your start celebrating your next season of traditions. Try to understand their roots, and determine whether they should really have a place in your life.
