mirror, mirror

We have this mirror.  It's large, with an ornate frame.  It weighs over 100 lbs, I think.  Once part of Mr. Kenobi's grandparent's home, the mirror accompanied a dining room set we inherited just after we got married.  For better or worse, it is part of my life.

Truth be told, I don't love this mirror.  It's not my style.  Because of its weight and size, it can only go in certain places of our home.  I'd paint it or get rid of it, but it is a family heirloom.  You don't mess with an heirloom, right?

I've managed to make the mirror fit, sometimes better than others, with my decor.  When we moved here, I had Mr. Kenobi hang it above our fireplace.  On the mantel, I displayed the various pieces of crystal we received as wedding gifts.  With the sunlight sparkling off the glass and reflecting from the mirror, I started to like that mirror.

Then, on the 4th of July last year, we heard a great crash from the living room.  With no explanation, the mirror fell from its hardware, cascading every piece of crystal onto the tile and hardwood floors below.  We rushed in to see shattered crystal everywhere.  Thankfully, nobody was in the room, so only "stuff" was damaged.  Still, it was my stuff.  I liked that crystal.  I had hoped some of it might make heirlooms for my own family.  As we swept and vacuumed, I was sad at the loss of all of those irreplaceable pieces.  

The odd thing was, there were no pieces of mirror anywhere.  As Mr. Kenobi moved the frame from the hearth, we realized it was completely intact.  The mirror had survived, with hardly a scratch.  Grrrr....

We put the mirror in the office, waiting for new hardware.  And waited... and waited...

Because I waited for Mr. Kenobi to fix the mirror, and he didn't think of it (unless I "reminded" him), it never got done.  Eventually, I went out and bought hardware, installed it according to the directions, and quickly realized I am a weakling who didn't want to lift that thing over my head and hang it again.  So I waited for Mr. Kenobi to hang it.

And waited... and waited...

Today, I had waited enough.  I hauled the mirror out, lined up a step stool, and lifted the mirror, carefully, while huffing & puffing, to the mantel.  There, I fiddled with the wires, trying to keep both connected with the hooks.  My step stool was just a bit too short.  So, I lined up a sturdy chair and tried again. Once I finally got the mirror hung, I realized something I really, really, should have double-checked:  the wires were slightly too long.  The giant mirror set on the mantel, instead of hanging from the hooks.  Grrrrr, again.

So, I started to lift it, carefully, off the mantel.  I stepped back off the step stool - oh, yes - the step stool.  I wasn't standing on a step stool, anymore, was I?  No, I had traded that handy stool for a chair.  A chair with a back.  A back which, when slightly leaned against, went tipping backward.

As I fell, I had enough time to think, "Seriously?!?  This mirror is going to crash and break with me on top of it after all of this?!?"  My knee caps hit the floor first, one on the edge of the tile hearth, and the other firmly on the wood floor.   The mirror, held in my hands, crashed to the hearth, and the side of my head slammed into it as we landed in a heap.

You might have guessed it - the mirror is fine.  All except a giant smear where my ear & face careened against it.  I think my kneecaps are swollen twice their normal size, and my elbow is bruised.  As is my ego.  But the mirror was none the worse for its second fall from the mantel.  After laying on the floor and testing all of my joints for a while, I finally got up.   Again, I lifted the mirror to the mantel, but propped it against the wall.  I hope we do not have an earthquake tonight, as I've officially given up doing this myself and will wait for Mr. Kenobi to return tomorrow. 

If ever there was a reason to get rid of an heirloom, I think this mirror has earned its departure from my home.  On the other hand, it's starting to have its own unbreakable place in our family.

honor

I hope you had a chance to thank a veteran today.  They often don't ask for thanks.  Sometimes they shy from the attention you offer.  Yet, thank them anyway.  Veterans have demonstrated service to us, our country, and often our world.  They do this with little pay, slight recognition, and even less time with the people and places they love.  They do what they do, often to leave their service with more scars than joys.  

My brother is a veteran.  In my selfishness, I sometimes wish he wasn't.  I sometimes wish he didn't have a calling that takes him into harm, away from those who love him.  I sometimes wish it was easier to understand his work, or support his deployments, or agree with his leaders.  Being a veteran has cost him holidays and birthdays away from his young daughter.  It has stressed his marriage with long-distance phone calls and parenting from afar.  It has sent him into months of loneliness, and moved him far from his home.  

His work has offered opportunities to earn respect and insight from some of the world's best people.  Being a veteran has given him much work, much pride, and many skills.  It has shown him the mixed reaction of citizens who prefers sound-bites and statistics over understanding the complexities of his work.  It has made him a simple and convenient image for those who want to elevate their political ideas.  It has also helped him understand the richness of his own ideas and beliefs.

If you don't have a brother, or relative, or friend who's a veteran, I'm sorry.  You may have to look to a stranger to say thanks.  They are walking & working among you.   They are also hidden.  Look in a soup kitchen, shelter, or hospital to find many who deserve your honor.  

Thank you, bro, for your service and commitment to a calling I don't always understand & sometimes don't want to support.  Thank you, veterans, for the honor you've shown us all.

listening

It's been a season of listening... and I'm finding much to hear.  The boys & I just got back from a church staff retreat (yes, I said "staff," as in "semi-employed," as in that's probably where my volunteer status is headed...)  While there, the team enjoyed some intense coaching and reflection.  We also tackled important questions, like, "Why am I?" and "Who am I?"  It was good to consider these for myself, but even better to listen to the answers, passions, dreams, gifts, and talents of the amazing people who make up this group.

I'm also listening more and more to my children.  Conversations are getting more complex around here, with reasons and wonderings and interests traveling beyond breakfast choices.  I like this stage of motherhood!  My boys are interesting, and their ideas and comments make me laugh, and sometimes make me wonder, and often make me perk up my ears to listen intently.

The neighborhood is talking and changing, as our dear Mary next door adjusts to less independence, better care, and more caretakers in her home.  I'm thankful she can be home and healthy, and even more thankful that I'm able to listen more without being a caretaker.  This is far more sustainable for our friendship.

I'm happily listening to less punditry and campaigning, and bending my ear to the realities of the next season of leadership locally and nationally.  I'm trying not to listen to those who think we're doomed, nor those who think they've elected a savior.  Neither are very balanced views, in my opinion.

I've been knee-deep (and sometimes over my head) in listening to my favorite words, too, as the boys and I have decided to memorize some bible verses together.  We started with 1 Corinthians 13, and slowly walked through its definition of love.  I enjoy this discipline of joining them in an adventure of listening and understanding.

We're listening to new toe-tapping, booty-shaking music, too.  I've just ordered the new Johnny B CD - a favorite artist we know well from our old 'hood in Seattle.  The new album looks like a lot of fun.  

Finally, I'm listening to you, my friends & family, who want to hear more often from this little update spot.  I promise to try harder in the coming weeks.  It is a delicate balance to listen well & write often, as time is hard to spend in both places.  Nonetheless, I know it's important to stay in touch, so I hereby say, "I hear you!" and will start posting more!  In the meantime, thanks for listening patiently.

much love,

MamaToo