The Crab Chronicles

Bullying

I was watching a movie on Netflix called Where the Crawdads Sing last night and it triggered me, big time. In the movie the little "Marsh Girl" tries to go to school and the other kids make fun of her and say ugly things about her where she can hear them. They belittle her and make her feel awful. They verbally bully her. She finds it unbearable and runs away.

Left, me in 6th grade, 1974. I was verbally bullied throughout school. I remember wishing I could be invisible. School was social torture. I was bullied for being fat, because I was a little bit chubby. Not grossly obese. I was an outdoors kid. I like to shoot hoops, play tennis, swim, water ski, play kickball, etc.

After I grew up I forgot about it, honestly.

Every once in a while I remember, though. A TV show or movie or even a book will trigger bad memories.

The bullying stopped when I was a freshman in high school and my older brother and I were riding the bus home from school in the beginning of the year. I was a freshman and he was a senior. One of the bullies rode our bus and lived in the same neighborhood. He said something mean to me on the bus and my brother told him to shut up. The bully didn't shut up. Bruce got up, walked over to the kid, and punched him in the face. My brother got kicked off the bus and walked home. My parents weren't upset with him. In fact, they praised him. Mom called the school the next day and talked to the Vice Principal about it and he agreed not to do anything else to Bruce.

Most importantly, that boy never bullied me again, nor did any of his friends.

I don't really believe in karma, but I do agree with the bible verse that says "you reap what you sow." It makes sense. What goes around comes around. I am trying to make the point that all those little boys who bullied me and who were mean to me have disappeared.

I am Facebook friends with a lot of people I grew up with, and I have never seen a single profile or post by any of those boys who bullied me. There was one guy whose sister I saw on there pretty frequently. She posted that he had died of cancer a few years back. I won't say I was happy to see that, but I wasn't sad, either. I now realize that that particular guy had a very low IQ, in addition to being a rotten person. He never married or had children, which was a blessing. I firmly believe that bullies shouldn't have children, not unless they get some counseling.

You're probably wondering why I brought this up. Two reasons.

One, holding a grudge against a bully or anyone else who wrongs you does nothing to them. It poisons you, though. Your soul is filled with negative thoughts and ideas and that's corrosive. Forgiveness is what heals you. You don't have to approve of or agree with the behavior to forgive the person who wrongs you. You just have to forgive and let go.

Two, if your child is being bullied, make it stop. If I heard a kid had bullied one of my kids I would go to the school the next day and tell the child to point out the bullies. Then I would demand they be kicked out of school, and my child transferred to another class. The school would likely view me as a troublemaker and not want to do what I ask. I would assure them that failure to stop any future bullying would be met with consequences. If the bullying happened again I would pull my child out of school and go to the school board. I'd likely go to the local news station and ask them to do a story. You probably think that sounds like an overreaction but you would be wrong.

Verbal bullying can devastate a child and destroy their self-esteem. That's not just my opinion. It can also cause Depression and Anxiety, and affect a child's grades.

According to McLean Hospital:

The National Center for Education Statistics and the Bureau of Justice Statistics and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention have published recent statistics, including:

• One out of every five students between the ages of 12 and 18 has experienced bullying at some point
• Students who reported being bullied stated it had an impact on how other students treated them
• Many children are bullied by peers who are larger or stronger than they are
• Some children are bullied because they have less money than their peers
• Fewer than half of all students who experienced bullying in school report it to authorities

Cyberbullying is also a terrible thing.

Cyberbullying is a significant concern. It can have a major impact on a young person’s mental health. Adolescents who are the victims of cyberbullying are more likely to experience depression, anxiety, and academic difficulties.

According to one study published by JAMA, young people exposed to cyberbullying are at a 50% increased risk of suicidal thoughts than their peers. Another recent study showed that children and young adults who experience cyberbullying are more than twice as likely to harm themselves and display suicidal behavior.

One study published by the Joint Research Center found that more than half of all children surveyed had experienced cyberbullying in some way. A survey published by Google indicated that teachers believe cyberbullying is their top safety concern in the classroom.

WHERE I DISAGREE WITH THE EXPERTS

Telling your child to ignore it doesn't work. Leaving it up to a teacher to stop it doesn't work. Schools usually do nothing until a child acts out violently or commits suicide. I am advocating a far more deliberate and profound set of actions. Threaten to sue. Pull your child out of school. I homeschooled my daughter for a year and it wasn't that difficult. Go to the news media. Confront the child or children who are doing the bullying and make their parents aware of what they are doing, most importantly. Hold the parents accountable. Most importantly, get the child away from the bullies. Never back down.

I adopted my son when he was 10 years old. When he was 5, a group of older boys bullied him and he fought back, and was beaten unconscious and left for dead. As a result, his right hand was frostbitten and had to be amputated. If his birthmom had been more vigilant it wouldn't have happened. She was an alcoholic. So now you know why I am such a zealot when it comes to bullying.

Michael Thompson Artist

My son Michael is an incredible artist and I wanted to share some of his art with you. He is a perfectionist and never thinks anything he does is good enough but he is wrong:

Dancing in the Wreckage

I am proud to introduce my newest book to the world: Dancing in the Wreckage. Here's what it's about, in a nutshell: When wealthy attorney Carson Strickland dies in a plane crash he leaves everything to a son nobody knows about, and his law partner’s search for the heir uncovers secrets buried for years.

Dancing in the Wreckage defies easy categorization. It's a mystery, a romance, a coming-of-age story, a family saga, and a quirky character-driven story. One of the main characters is dead, and yet his story provides a lot of humor.

I had a lot of fun writing it. It's very different from my other books.

A few years ago after helping my third cousin Roy discover his connection to me through my maternal great-grandmother I started thinking about unexpected family connections. Many people do the testing offered by Ancestry, 23andMe, and other sites, and learn really startling things about their families. Sometimes they are adopted, like Roy, and know nothing about their birth families. Other times they learn their father was not their biological parent. I know 23andMe has counselors trained to help people in the “NPE” (non-parent expected) category.

This book was inspired by a real-life situation I found myself in during the summer of 2022, when I looked at my list of DNA relatives on 23andMe and decided to proactively try to help one of my second cousins figure out our connection. I had been on 23andMe for years and always noticed various people whose names were not familiar, and I just knew there were fascinating stories back there. I called one of my other cousins and together we figured out how this lady was related. Turns out she was his half sister!She was welcomed into our family with great enthusiasm.

I was fascinated by the notion of growing up thinking your father was one person and then finding out years later that your biological father was someone you never met. I started writing. Rarely am I so inspired by real events!

That said, Dancing in the Wreckage is purely fictional.

Not only is it the story of an attorney named Carson Strickland, it's the story of Zak and Amy -- two individuals who are connected to Carson and yet unknown to each other for years -- who meet and recount their life stories, trying to understand their connections to him. Amy grew up fearful and puzzled by men, as there were only females in her home. When she gets old enough to date, disaster ensues. Eventually she realizes she can only find peace alone. Zak’s story is very different. He grew up in a conventional family. At age 18, Zak learned a family secret that rocked him, and he embarked on a life of aimless addiction and partying for a while. Eventually he fell in love and decided to join the family barbeque business. When Zak and Amy finally finish sharing their complicated life stories, they realize they love each other -- and more importantly, that the truth about Carson can actually generate healing and closure, instead of pain.

I realized as I was writing that the book depicts so many sides of the adoption triangle, most obviously in the way Zak’s life and Amy’s lives differ. I have two adopted children, now grown, and so adoption issues are particularly fascinating to me. What most people don’t really know is that when a mother places a child for adoption, although it’s a very selfless act, it’s also undoubtedly traumatic to both mother and child, a primal wound. It must be acknowledged for there to be any real healing.

I wanted to depict many different scenarios – adoption, abortion, keeping a child, placing a child, a child growing up in an orphanage. I also wanted to show different family situations -- single-parent homes, two parent homes, etc. -- and the pros and cons of each.

Having said that, Dancing in the Wreckage is NOT a message book. There is a lot of humor in it.

I am delighted to share that it's also set partly in Tucker, Georgia, my adopted hometown. I moved to this area almost 30 years ago and Tucker is the best-kept secret in the Atlanta metro area -- a friendly small town an easy drive to the bustling metropolis of Atlanta. The photo on the cover is downtown Tucker.

I seem to find myself always writing about Atlanta, Augusta, and Knoxville, but I make no apologies. They are all great cities and I have been blessed to live in each one. I also write about attorneys a lot, and paralegals, and I know those professions very well. 

I hope you will order a copy of Dancing in the Wreckage and that you'll enjoy reading it. Pass along the link to all your friends who love to read!

 

 

Ten Movies to Teach History

My son and I recently had a lively discussion about history. I kept seeing these videos of twenty-somethings being interviewed on the street and asked really basic history facts like What country did American break away from? and the answers he got were utterly wrong. So disturbing to see young people who couldn't answer the most basic history questions. I was so lucky to grow up with parents who thought it was really important to learn history.

The good news is that streaming services offer so many easy ways to see movies that can really help spark a discussion about the history depicted in the film. Most young people nowadays want their History presented in an entertaining fashion, not as dry lessons from a textbook. So I put together a few suggestions of movies to watch to understand American history. All of these movies should be jumping-off places for more detailed discussions of the events depicted and the actual History.

 

Cinderella Man

This 2005 movie stars Russell Crowe and Renee Zellwegger and it's an excellent depiction of life during the Great Depression. Plot: During the Great Depression, ex-boxer James J. Braddock (Russell Crowe) works as a day laborer until his former manager Joe Gould (Paul Giamatti) offers him a one-time slot against a rising young contender. After he wins a shocking upset, Braddock goes back into the ring full time, against the wishes of his frightened wife, Mae (Renée Zellweger). Dubbed "The Cinderella Man" for his rags-to-riches story, Braddock sets his sights on the defending champion, the fearsome Max Baer (Craig Bierko).

 

In Love and War

This 1996 movie stars Sandra Bullock and Chris O'Donnell and it's set in Italy during World War I. The cinematography is gorgeous and the acting of Sandra Bullock is uncharacteristically understated and subtle. You may also want to discuss the writing career of Ernest Hemingway, one of the giants of modern literature. Plot: This film is largely based on Hemingway's real-life experiences in the First World War as a young ambulance-driver in Italy. He was wounded and sent to a military hospital, where he shared a room with Villard (who later wrote the book the movie is based on) and they were nursed by Agnes von Kurowsky. Hemingway and Kurowsky fell strongly in love, but somehow the relationship didn't work out. 

 

Tolkien

Anyone who knows the Lord of the Rings Books knows their creator was a genius and JRR Tolkien led a remarkable life. It was largely shaped by his experience of losing several close friends during World War I. Full disclosure: I didn't like this movie the first time I saw it but in subsequent viewings I realize the genius of it. Plot: Tolkien explores the formative years of the orphaned author as he finds friendship, love and artistic inspiration among a group of fellow outcasts at school. This takes him into the outbreak of World War I, which threatens to tear the "fellowship" apart. All of these experiences would inspire Tolkien to write his famous Middle-Earth novels.

 

1776

I first saw this movie as a child and I loved the music. Your typical twenty-something may hate the music, but chances are they will remember what the movie is trying to teach us about how the founding fathers shaped the birth of our country. Plot: In the days leading up to July 4, 1776, Continental Congressmen John Adams and Benjamin Franklin coerce Thomas Jefferson into writing the Declaration of Independence as a delaying tactic as they try to persuade the American colonies to support a resolution on independence. As George Washington sends depressing messages describing one military disaster after another, the businessmen, landowners and slave holders in Congress all stand in the way of the Declaration, and a single "nay" vote will forever end the question of independence. Large portions of spoken and sung dialog are taken directly from the letters and memoirs of the actual participants.

 

Iron Jawed Angels

This 2004 TV movie is a powerful depiction of what women went through in order to gain the right to vote. I know a lot about feminist history but this film was a revelation to me. Young women have no idea what their grandmothers and great grandmothers went through. Plot: Alice Paul and the women of the 1917 Women's Suffrage movement fight for future generations right to vote and run for office. Sacrificing their health, marriages and the limited amount of freedom they had, women were imprisoned and force fed after picketing and hunger-striking against war-time president, Woodrow Wilson; but survived to see the results of their efforts.

 

Hidden Figures

I loved this 2016 movie about the brilliant women who were crucial in the space program of the 1950's and 60's. Plot: As the United States raced against Russia to put a man in space, NASA found untapped talent in a group of African-American female mathematicians that served as the brains behind one of the greatest operations in U.S. history. Based on the unbelievably true life stories of three of these women, known as "human computers", we follow these women as they quickly rose the ranks of NASA alongside many of history's greatest minds specifically tasked with calculating the momentous launch of astronaut John Glenn into orbit, and guaranteeing his safe return. Dorothy Vaughan, Mary Jackson, and Katherine Gobels Johnson crossed all gender, race, and professional lines while their brilliance and desire to dream big, beyond anything ever accomplished before by the human race, firmly cemented them in U.S. history as true American heroes.

 

Loving

I bet most millennials don't know that in the not-so-distant past it was illegal for people of different races to marry, in many states. This film is such a beautiful and powerful depiction of the landmark court case that changed that, and every young person should see it, IMHO. Plot: Richard Loving, a white construction worker in Caroline County, Virginia, falls in love with a local black woman and family friend, Mildred Jeter. Upon Mildred discovering that she is pregnant, they decide to marry, but knowing that interracial marriage violates Virginia's anti-miscegenation laws, they drive to Washington, D.C. to get married in 1958. Richard makes plans to build a house for Mildred less than a mile from her family home.

 

Pearl Harbor

I was lucky because my parents actually remembered Pearl Harbor and we talked many times about how that event changed their lives and the lives of most Americans who lived in 1941. Plot: Pearl Harbor is a classic tale of romance set during a war that complicates everything. It all starts when childhood friends Rafe and Danny become Army Air Corps pilots and meet Evelyn, a Navy nurse. Rafe falls head over heels and he and Evelyn and Rafe hook up. Then Rafe volunteers to go fight in Britain, and Evelyn and Danny get transferred to Pearl Harbor. While Rafe is off fighting, suddenly one morning comes the air raid we now know as "Pearl Harbor." 

 

Harriett

This is SUCH a powerful film and I've watched it many times now. It should have won a million Oscars, especially for Cynthia Erivo, who magically embodied her character. Plot: Based on the thrilling and inspirational life of an iconic American freedom fighter, Harriet tells the extraordinary tale of Harriet Tubman's escape from slavery and transformation into one of America's greatest heroes. Her courage, ingenuity, and tenacity freed hundreds of slaves and changed the course of history.

 

The Imitation Game

This is the last movie I saw in the theater before life got super hectic and I just quit going to the movies. Very powerful and heartbreaking story about the genius Alan Turing. Plot: It is based on the real life story of legendary cryptanalyst Alan Turing. The film portrays the nail-biting race against time by Turing and his brilliant team of code-breakers at Britain's top-secret Government Code and Cypher School at Bletchley Park, during the darkest days of World War II.

#teachinghistorywithmovies, #learningthroughmovies, #lessonsonfilm

Formerly the Queen of the Uptight

I used to be a person that freaked out quite easily. I was the opposite of laid back. I was the Queen of the Perpetually Uptight. That's not a good thing, trust me.

Everything is energy. It took me years to really grasp that but that's one of the benefits of getting older. If you're lucky, and you keep an open mind, you will accumulate knowledge that will help you cope. My hard-won knowledge of energy is as comforting to me as religion is to a lot of folks. 

One of my cousins posted a long essay about vibrational energy on Facebook. Below is a quote from it:

7 things that affect your vibrational frequency from the point of view of quantum physics.

Vibration in quantum physics means that everything is energy. We are vibrating beings on certain frequencies. Every vibration equals a feeling and in the "vibrational" world, there are only two kinds of vibration, positive and negative. Every feeling makes you emit a vibration that can be positive or negative.

 

Every thought emits a frequency out to the universe and that frequency goes back to the source, so in case if you have negative thoughts, discouragement, sadness, anger, fear, it all comes back to you. This is why it is so important that you take care of the quality of your thoughts and learn to cultivate more positive thoughts.

 

So true. When I was younger my head was filled with a lot of negative thoughts. School stressed me out because I was always wanting to make top grades and when I didn't immediately grasp the material I panicked. I also got bullied at school because I was chubby. At home, I was a constant source of annoyance to my older brother because I was walking around breathing in the same house, so he liked to tease me mercilessly.

 

I grew up and became a paralegal, mainly because my dad thought it was a good idea. I really never wanted to be a paralegal. It took me years to make peace with it. I felt obsolete in my last paralegal position -- lots of negative energies. (Thanks be to God I now have a job I love where I can use my legal background but I get to write all day, a huge blessing.)

 

I have told my son many times, we can control our thoughts. He is only slowly coming around to accepting this idea. It's true, though. Once he really understands that and puts it into practice, life will get easier. I have noticed this in my own life. It can be very tricky to do, though.

 

I have a relative who is a big strong guy but he is the most fearful person I know. He constantly worries about everything, and as a result those fears control him. My last few conversations with him have been very strained so I have decided to distance myself from him for the time being. If I told this guy that the key to inner peace lies in thought control he would snort with contempt. [I've seen that many times! He is the Snort King!] He cannot do what I do so often in life and simply turn it over to God. He knows the concept, but he cannot do it. Turning it over to God is just a mental exercise. It's the act of saying to God [or the Universe, or whatever deity you believe in] that you feel completely frustrated and unable to handle a problem, but you are going to turn your thoughts elsewhere and trust God/The Universe/Buddha/whoever to handle the problem. Taking a mental vacation from your thoughts can be very difficult to do because you stop trying to control the situation. It's absolutely necessary, though, to avoid all the worry and feelings of inadequacy and anxiety.

 

I think sometimes people cling to their negative thoughts because letting go of them would feel like a betrayal, or an acknowledgement that they aren't always right.

 

When you focus on the positive, though, it changes things. Let's say you don't believe in God. You know the happiness you feel when you express love? That's positive energy and that's a healing energy. Pet your dog or cat for a few minutes. Play with your child. Take a walk by a lake or river. Close your eyes and listen to a favorite song. Take a friend out to lunch. Put those positive vibes into yourself and see what happens.

 

I don't want to get into a political argument here but I was reminded of this yesterday as I watched the news coverage of the overturning of Roe v. Wade. Half of the people in America are in deep despair over that Supreme Court ruling. The other half are rejoicing and celebrating -- but also quite anxious about the possible backlash. The same can be said for the gun control bill just passed by Congress. Some rejoice, some despair.

 

The entire country feels awash in negative energy. We all need to walk that back -- and we can. All the negative energy accomplishes nothing. It's really wasted energy. Roll up your sleeves and work for the side you believe in, and keep focusing on the result you want. Protest peacefully if you like. Don't riot because that does nothing good. Express loving feelings through acts of kindness.

 

My dad had a very stressful job. He was a bank vice president. His days were often long and very stressful. When he got home from work, though, he would always change clothes and spend time with his children, usually playing with us. He really played -- on the floor, playing with toys, singing songs, playing games. He told Mom it was his favorite part of the day because he could forget about all the stress of the day.

 

We all need to remember that. You want to change the world? Fine. Go play. Go love. Go sing your song. Fill yourself with positive energy and wait for the blessings to roll in, as inevitably as the tide.

 

 

Dad's Day

In cleaning out my house to get it ready to show I have run across so many forgotten but very cool old photos and documents. The other day I found Dad's baby book, started in 1930. It contained a number of tiny photos, too small to scan in, but treasured by me nonetheless.

Left, Daddy as a baby. My grandparents were poor, but they clearly adored their sons. Cordelia wrote in his baby book periodically for years. There were even some photos of Dad as about a 10 year old.

When Dad was born in November of 1930 the family was living in Jacksonville, Florida. His brother Lewis was about 6 and Bobby was about 4. Below, the boys with Grandaddy.

My grandmother Cordelia must have been disappointed when her third child was not a girl. She had two boys already, and a girl's name picked out [don't know what it was, though.] Then comes her third son. She had no boy name chosen so she named him "Anthony" - the name of a drugstore near the hospital. Nobody else in the family had that name.

Dad was a pistol from day 1, clearly.

Below, a note from Cordelia about him: Age 3, Dad decided he wanted to be called "Slick" -- my grandfather's nickname. Not sure why Grandaddy got that nickname, the origins of it. Might have been given to him during his brief career as a professional gambler, in South Georgia.

When I first read Cordelia's notes under Dad's photos as a 6 year old I was appalled. She let him go downtown alone?! Then I remembered that in those days downtown Hephzibah was a very short walk from their home.

Another note in the baby book talks about him having a good tan - when he was less than a year old! Of course, they lived in Florida. I remembered that my dad had really unusual skin. Despite having light brown hair and green eyes his skin was always quite brown. He never wore sunscreen, despite Mom's entreaties. I never saw him get a sunburn, either. He always spent a lot of time outside. He liked yard work, swimming, skiing, tennis. His back would turn mahogany brown. Mom said he was part pirate. Who knows.

I miss Dad a lot. He passed away July 11, 1996, of cancer. I had just turned 34 years old. It seemed so unreal, that he would be taken from us like that. For months afterwards I felt like the whole world was off whack, like everything was just WRONG.

I will say this for him, though. Tony Thompson packed a lot of living into 65 years. He was a busy guy.

He tried very hard to be a good father. He didn't know what to do with a little girl, since he'd had no sisters. He didn't do tea parties. I didn't brush his hair or pick out his nail polish like I did for Mom. We went to movies though, and we talked about everything. People used to say I was a lot like him. He was a ball of fire, unlike Elva [Mom] who was laid back. Maybe that's why they were such good friends. They were opposites.

Sometimes when I am worried about something I talk to Daddy, and ask him to help me, if possible. Death is simply a doorway. He's on the other side of it, but I feel him around me often. He came to me in a dream and told me to adopt my son. Sometimes I sense him when I smell his aftershave. Sometimes I clearly hear his voice in my head.

He wasn't perfect, but nobody is perfect. He tried to be a good daddy and he loved us fiercely. That was enough. I will miss him until the day I see him again in heaven.

 

An Easter Thought

When I was a little girl I was a tomboy and also a traditional little girl. I liked to play football and kickball with my brother, and I liked to play with my Barbie dolls. Nobody ever told me I had to choose. I always assumed I would grow up and have children the traditional way, of course. Adopting a child never entered my thought process. It never occurred to me that I could possibly love an adopted child as much as a child that I produced from my body. It just didn't seem possible.

God showed me how wrong I was.

After years of failed relationships, of desperately trying to make myself pretty enough, thin enough, agreeable enough, I finally just gave up and asked God for a miracle, on my 40th birthday. I wanted to be a mom. I had failed at becoming a wife, but Mom seemed vaguely possible. I had a friend who had a baby at age 37 and told me all about her trials and tribulations, mothering an infant, which take tremendous patience and stamina. I didn't think I was up for that, not by myself. I couldn't imagine adopting a non baby, however.

By the time I turned 42 I was in the process of adopting my daughter, then age 12. Two years later, I brought home my son.

When we as human beings give up, and think there's no way our dreams will EVER come true, that's when we allow blessings into our lives. I had no idea how I could become a mom. It seemed just impossible. All I could see were obstacles. By turning the problem over to God, though, and getting out of my own way, I was able to turn a huge corner in my life.

The path to motherhood wasn't easy.

The family I eventually got -- two older adopted children and my own mother as a co-parent -- was anything but conventional. Yet we were a happy family.

Skip ahead to today.

I have almost succeeded in selling my house. It's under contract. There will be an inspection soon. It has been a wonderful home. I will dearly miss my yard and my neighbors.

But it's time to move on. Time to downsize.

It's time for a new chapter in my life.

My son is back living at home and will help me with the move, but I'm sure he will be in a place of his own in the near future. That's as it should be.

My newest challenge -- and it's a big one -- is to find the right condo or townhome where I can move to in the next month or so. Right now, because interest rates have been really low for a while, there is very little inventory out there. Nice places are snatched up as soon as they come on the market -- at an alarming rate.

I will not despair, however.

If God could help me become a mom when I couldn't see any possibility of it myself, he can find me a nice place to live out the last years of my life. It's a matter of having faith. It's a matter of getting out of my own way.

This home will forever hold a cherished place in my heart. I have lived here nearly 16 years -- the longest I've ever lived anywhere in my life. My children experienced the love of a mama and a grandmama here for the first time. Cousins and friends came to visit. Kids played in the yard. My mom lived out her final years on earth here. We celebrated Christmases and birthdays here. I was able to write six books while living here.

This old home has served us well. I'm happy it will be a welcome refuge for another family to enjoy. 

Faith can be an elusive thing. It has not always been readily accessible to me. However, I have crystal clear memories of Mom reminding me to always trust in the Lord, always have faith. When we can only see closed doors, God can see how to open doors.

God = Love

Love can make miracles happen. It's the greatest energy source out there.

 

Honor Thy Mother and Father

I was thinking today that one of the commandments you don't hear a lot about is the one to honor your parents. What does that mean, exactly?

I think it means we are supposed to live our lives the way they would want us to live our lives. Most parents [mine included] try and raise their children to be decent, moral, hardworking, kind folks. That's certainly how my parents raised me.

Now that Mom and Dad are both gone, I decided it was time to remind myself what they tried to teach me. My mother was known for a number of traits, chief among them her wonderful sense of humor and her kindness. She always said "If you don't laugh, you'll cry. Laughing is better!" So I've tried to remember that. When I see a funny meme I try to share it. When I am in a stressful situation I try to find the humor and laugh. Laughter heals.

Below are some of her other rules of living.

Good manners are really nothing more than kindness.

Mom always said that. Good manners aren't only for stuck up people. They are important because treating everyone with kindness, respect, and dignity is important. I never saw her treat anyone with anything else.

Everybody carries a box of rocks.

In other words, we all have troubles, no matter how rich, famous, or important we are. Nobody is spared from troubles. Therefore we should always strive to understand where the other person is coming from, and be kind.

He puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like I do.

That was actually something my grandfather always said. My grandfather, Bob Hasty, was a professional baseball pitcher for 5 years. During his life he met plenty of famous people. He was never overly impressed.

Dad's Wisdom

My dad, Tony Thompson, was a study in contrasts. He was always immaculately dressed and groomed at work, but at home he liked to work in the yard and tinker with the cars and he always looked like a bum. He didn't care.

Always do the right thing.

I heard him say that a million times. He taught me and my brother that no matter what, we should always do the right thing -- which was often not the easy thing.

Don't let the weather make your decisions for you.

Dad like to trot out that one when it was snowing and he was going to go to work anyway. Mom always wanted him to stay home. In a broader sense, though, what it means is if you're committed to being somewhere, do everything possible to be there.

I've gotten compliments all my adult life because if I say I am going to do something, I generally always do it. Many people don't. Dad taught me that.

Work hard and always give it 100%.

Dad was a very hard worker. I think that stemmed from a youth picking cotton and other crops on his uncle's farm -- backbreaking labor that made him appreciate his ability to work inside, wearing a suit and tie. He would often help me and my brother get jobs when we were young, because he knew a lot of business owners, but he always told us "I expect you to work hard and make me proud." He would always tell anyone who hired us "If he/she doesn't work hard, fire him/her! No hard feelings." Nepotism carried a heavy weight of responsibility.

Good manners are very important.

Like Mom, he was a stickler for manners. He wanted us to always behave correctly, in any situation. We were taught to address our elders as Sir and M'am, and much more. Manners included not hurting feelings, always being particularly kind to children and the elderly, and taking food to someone when they were having problems or mourning someone. Dad lived that idea.

 

I hope and pray that 2021 will be a wonderful year, far better than the awful 2020.

I will strive every day to honor my parents, and remember the many life lessons they taught me. In doing so, I hope I will inspire my children.

My parents took great joy in raising me and my brother. My mother loved being a grandmother and seeing her grandchildren grow and thrive. This is the best work we do as humans, nurturing our children and grandchildren. Nothing else is as important, IMHO.

Elva

My mother always said "If you don't laugh, you'll cry. Laughing's better." She did a lot of laughing during her 86 years. Elva Hasty Thompson was born in Marietta, Georgia in 1933, and she left us today.

While it makes me very sad to lose her, because I will miss her terribly, I am also rejoicing.

Mom is in heaven, I am sure. The macular degeneration, arthritis, and hearing loss that plagued her in recent years are gone now. She is whole and perfect, and with the Lord. I know this like I know the sun will rise in the East tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mom was born at the height of the Depression and times were tough. My grandfather [Bob Hasty, who had played major league baseball for 5 seasons] had to stop playing minor league baseball and get a regular job. He went to work coaching the baseball teams for companies like Atlanta Gas Light and Foremost Dairy.

They moved a lot.

Mom was whip smart and always did well in school, despite all the moving around. My mom could read a book and listen to the teacher at the same time, and recall everything the teacher said. One teacher tested that, accusing Mom of reading during class, and Mom repeated her lecture word for word -- that was in high school. She kept reading in class but made top grades anyway.

After World War II the family came back to Atlanta. Mom was in 6th grade.They bought a beautiful old home on 9th Street and Mom rode her bicycle all over the area, and learned to swim at The Atlanta Women's Club.

Elva graduated from Grady High School in 1952. She went to the University of Georgia and got her BS in Education. She worked and got loans and completely paid her own way through college -- a really uphill battle but one that made her a strong person. She became a teacher. She made very little money but loved teaching and always told stories about those years and how much she loved her students.

In 1956 she met my dad, who was living and working in Atlanta, for one of his cousins. They married in February 1957, and moved to Augusta.

They lived in Augusta until 1970, and had two children, my older brother Bruce in 1959, and me in 1962.

Elva had a wonderful singing voice. She would sit at the piano and play and we would sing together from the time I was a baby. She played entirely by ear, and her arpeggios would have rivaled Liberace's. In her youth, she sang for weddings and special events around Atlanta, and did a USO tour and sang for the soldiers back from Korea. We rarely had a party when I was a kid that someone didn't say "Elva, sing for us."

"Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" was her signature song.

She was a soloist for the Men's Glee Club at the University of Georgia. She also soloed at First Baptist here in Atlanta, and sang at other local churches when they needed a soloist. Several times she sang in choruses for the Billy Graham crusades and she revered him.

When she married Dad and became a mom, she was all about being a mom. Even though it was a financial sacrifice, she stayed home with us so we would never come home to a cold empty house, as she had as a child. We came home to snacks and long chats with her.

Mom had a lot of hobbies. She knitted. She beaded sweaters. She did decoupage in the 70's. She loved to garden and grew amazing gardens. She loved to read and read voraciously, even after arthritis limited her to using a Kindle.

Mom was always an amazing storyteller. She had a fantastic sense of humor and could make just about anyone laugh. She had one date after Dad died, and the old man's tooth fell out during dinner -- a story she told with great amusement.

Mom became a widow in 1996 when my father passed away from cancer. She was only 61. She never wanted to marry anyone else, though. She laughed when Bruce and I suggested it. She stayed busy with her church and garden club, and took trips to the beach with friends.

When I adopted my daughter in 2004, Mom stepped in to be an amazing grandmother. She sold her house in Augusta and moved over here to help me, and what a blessing it was for all of us. When Michael came along a few years later she spent his first summer tutoring him and he thrived in school, skipping a grade after only one year. She always said it was her pleasure to tutor him because he was/is so smart. They had a special bond.

Mom was one of a kind. Smart, funny, always a fighter. She loved her friends and she had a lot of great ones. She loved her family and we all felt that love.

For the rest of my life I will hear her voice in my head. I will think of her when I smell a gardenia. I will remember all the great times we had together.

I will rejoice, because God gifted me with the best mama in the world.

There will never be another one like her. That's okay. She was my greatest source of love, my biggest champion, my best friend, and I am so grateful she was with me for so long. 

I've posted some other photos below. Click on them to make them bigger.

 

 

The Last Days?

When I started researching adoption in 2003 I didn't realize I was starting a journey that would produce not just the family I'd always wanted, but also friendships that would sustain me. I had no idea of any of that. All I knew was that I had visited an orphanage and seen a little girl that I knew in my heart was my daughter.

Shortly after she came home I realized my daughter needed a sibling, and I started researching adoptable children in Russian speaking countries, because I wanted Alesia to be able to help me teach English to a younger sibling. Teaching her had been quite a challenge, simply because I didn't realize that she had a learning disability.

Michael came home in May 2007 and Alesia was a great tutor and sibling to him.

Michael was from Kazakhstan, a country I had only vaguely heard of that day in 2005 when I spotted his photo on the adoption agency website. I was working in the legal department of a hotel company at that time and I had to go examine the world map to figure out where he was.

Kazakhstan is a fascinating country. It's situated east of Europe, right under Russia, and west of China. For centuries, traders between Europe and China traveled across the vast plains of Kazakhstan on a trade route known as The Silk Road.

Sometime around the time I adopted Michael I "met" another adoptive mom who had adopted a little 6 year old girl from Kazakhstan. Although she lives in California and her background is totally different from mine, I liked Judy immediately. She is smart, funny, and she writes a blog. She lives in California, but a few years ago she bought an apartment in New York and she stays there part of every year and sees Broadway shows, goes to museums, etc. I always enjoy reading her blog about all her varied and fun activities.

Although it may sound like a peculiar friendship, my relationship with Judy has always been one of mutual respect and affection. We don't always agree politically, but we agree about a lot of important things.

Judy is one of the few people I can talk to about raising an adopted child who came home not as a baby, but as a fully-formed little human.

Raising a child who has come out of an orphanage and is older than 6 when they are adopted is quite a challenge. Judy has had challenges with her daughter and I have had some with Michael. We both love our children, and we have tried hard to help them. Other parents are great sources of wisdom when it comes to biological children, but they really don't understand the challenges Judy and I have faced.

Most children who live in chaotic birth homes with parents who neglect them carry that emotional scars of that for the rest of their lives. Ditto for kids who spend their earliest years in an orphanage, like Judy's daughter. Our kids didn't have as early examples parents who loved and nurtured them, who protected them from harm and showed them what it's like to cope with adversity in healthy ways. My son watched his birthmom cope with trouble by drinking. Right after he came home he picked up a bottle of perfume on my dresser, smelled it, and said in Russian "My mother used to drink this for the alcohol." [My daughter translated.] I was shocked.

Most kids like my son and Judy's daughter go through periods of hard rebellion when they become teenagers - more rebellious that biological children, usually. It's terrifying to watch, as a parent. Judy's daughter pushed the limits. Michael put me through a lot. Both children are doing well now, though. Judy's daughter is thriving in college, and Michael is headed back to college in the Fall. Our children are smart, resilient, and able to give and receive love. I am so proud of them.

Judy just learned the other day that she has Stage 4 colon cancer. There is a tumor on her colon and it's inoperable. The day she told me that, Wednesday, I cried off and on for most of the day.

You're probably thinking that's weird. I have never actually sat across from Judy and chatted. We've never met in person. I've never shared a meal with her. Yet, I feel like I am losing a member of my family.

I also am constantly berating myself for thinking there's no hope. There is always hope. Miracles do happen, all the time. Ask any doctor or nurse who has more than a few years of experience.

 

A few months ago I finished a book called Dying To Be Me, by Anita Moorjani. She had terminal cancer and actually died from it, in the hospital. Her soul left her body. She writes about it very articulately. Excerpt:

"I didn't feel as though I'd physically gone somewhere else -- it was more as though I'd awakened. Perhaps I'd finally been roused from a bad dream... What I can only describe as superb and glorious unconditional love surrounded me, wrapping me tight as I continued to let go... Love, joy, ecstasy and awe poured into me, through me, and engulfed me. I was enveloped in more love than I ever knew existed. I felt more free and alive than I ever had... I suddenly knew things that weren't physically possible, such as the conversations between medical staff and my family that were taking place far away from my hospital bed."

Anita goes on to talk about time in the other realm isn't linear, it's simultaneous, and how she was able to make contact with her deceased father and best friend. She felt such joy and peace in the other realm. She came out of the coma eventually, and her cancer completely went away.

I gave the book to my mother to read and she, too, found it fascinating. I love this idea: If you want to know about the journey, ask someone on the way back. By coming back and sharing her journey with the world, Anita Moorjani has helped countless people to not fear death. I don't fear it. I don't want anyone I love to fear it. It's simply a transition.

 

I kept thinking about my father's 1996 cancer diagnosis, when I heard from Judy the other day. He had been in such a lot of pain and yet I knew that when he died, the pain would be gone and he would enter into the blissful state Anita describes. Whether Judy is facing the last months of her life or it's simply a very scary bump in the road and she will recover, I feel peaceful. Her life is about to change dramatically, either way.

If Judy is dying, I will miss her friendship terribly. I hope I will also be able to rejoice, though, because she will be out of pain and in a state of peace that I can only imagine. One day our spirits will meet in person and I will rejoice in seeing my old friend, and hug her. One day our Kazakh children will meet, whether in this life or the next.

I am still finding myself crying, at odd moments, for reasons I cannot fully articulate. I don't want Judy to be in pain. I don't wish it on her family either. I am anticipating missing her, and she is not gone yet -- and I am a little angry at myself for pre-grieving. I am also sad that I never got to visit Judy in California, and she probably doesn't feel like traveling, now.

I comfort myself by picturing this: Judy and I sitting and looking out at the ocean, drinking something cold, and talking about our kids, our passions, our lives -- and laughing. So much healing and love comes in the form of laughter. One day it will happen, whether in this life or the next.