Thankfully Giving Thanks on this Thankfully Thankful Thanksgiving

Well it's two days before Thanksgiving and Facebook is inundated with people stating all that they're thankful for this year.  It's lovely to read them.  Sometimes it's an eye-rolling good time for this closet cynic (closet?)  But even if it's corny or contrite, I think it's lovely (there's that word again) that these writers are putting themselves out there, baring their soles, making us roll our eyes...I mean making us take stock of ourselves and our lives and publicly thanking whatever greater being they offer thanks to.  Honestly, I don't know that I'd be able to come up with 28 things to be grateful for and want to put on Facebook.  I think it's cool.  Here's some of mine, 'cause I know you're waiting for them...  

I'm thankful for sore muscles; it means I've been staying on task with working out.

I'm thankful for Fridays when for the next two days the house will be filled with my favorite people.

I'm thankful for Mondays when I get my house back to myself and send my favorite people packing.

I'm thankful for Caller ID.

I'm thankful for free premium channel weekends.

I'm thankful my mom is getting past her horrific health issues faster than I certainly could have!

I'm thankful for Pinterest and all the craftier-than-I contributors.

I'm thankful for the village that helps me raise my children.

I'm thankful for my children.......and my IUD.

I'm thankful for hair dye....the really good kind that hides the gray.

I'm thankful for Spanx...not that I wear them....

I'm thankful for my Church and the people in it.

I'm thankful for the roof over my head and the food in my cupboards.

I'm thankful for sneakers.

I'm thankful for sneakers. Oh, wait...no, I'm keeping it; I'm really thankful for sneakers.

Okay, that's enough.  The rest are either too obvious to mention or too sappy to admit to.  There's so much out there that we can be thankful for it's hard to say which gets a mention and which gets a pass.  The things I listed are neither most important nor least; especially the sneakers...did I mention I'm quite thankful for sneakers?  Yes, well.

The point I'm trying to make (eventually), is that I think we should make a conscious effort to bring even the smallest of things to mind and appreciate them; even if for just a split second.  Like I just ran my fingers through my hair and thought of how thankful I am that my hairdresser gives the best shampoo massage in the world!  Just a random thought normally but this time I was thankful for it.  

So what are you thankful for?  Your stylist who gives good head?  Your trainer for kicking your ass on a daily basis?  The village in your life?  Your sneakers?  Don't make Thanksgiving the only time to really reflect.  I'm not going to keep an Oprah-inspired Grateful Journal, that's too much work.  I'm not going to list one daily on my Facebook page, that's too much pressure.  I'm just going to look daily at the things in my life and consciously be grateful for them.  It might be a juicy grapefruit that I got on sale at ACME (yeah, right, like ACME puts their grapefruit on sale EVER.)  It might be that my mom's biopsy came back clean.  Two different ends of the thankful spectrum, but both worthy of a fleeting thought I think.  And that's the key; it's what I think about MY stuff and what YOU think about YOUR stuff and NOT what YOU think about MY stuff or what I think about....okay, you get it, right?

Happy Thanksgiving all!  May you have a day, season, year, and life worthy of giving thanks for.

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

My Father Who Art in Heaven....

I saw an old man today as I drove to the local store.  He had just gotten out of a car driven by an equally old man.  I came upon him far enough back that I was able to watch him start to walk up his driveway, stop, turn around, and go back to examine a shrub like it had called out to him.  I was immediately reminded of my father.  I don't know if it was the way he bent down to look with his hands on his thighs; something my dad always did; or just that he was an old man.

I was thinking of both the stranger and my dad as I did my light shopping and when I walked out of the store, another of the old man's contemporaries was walking in and seeing me, stopped, stepped out of the way, and held the door for me.  I smiled and thanked him "thank you, sir!" and his smiling reply was, "of course."  Like "duh, like I'm not gonna hold the door open for a lady??"  I smiled all the way to my car.

My father was a gentleman.  He was born in 1924, served in the US Army during WWII, was a loving son, husband, and father, and a true man of faith.  Though it was a quiet faith, at least from what I could see, I knew of his Irish Catholic upbringing and his time in Seminary High School. I would secretly watch him during Sunday Mass become absorbed in the Word.  We used to joke that he was sleeping, but we knew better...I think...!  But definitely a gentleman.  Not so much that he couldn't hold his own with roughnecks, but enough that he could NOT embarrass my mom when he was on his  best behavior!

He could make my friends giggle like mad without much effort.  At the dinner table, he would recite poems in Latin and Shakespeare in English; he would tell off-colored jokes and tell you to push his shirt button forcing him, if you were gullible enough to do it, burp.  All gentleman-like behavior, yes?  The thing is, he was a gentleman but wasn't a snob.  Lord knows he was no snob!!  He liked almost everyone...and if he didn't, he faked it great!

So needless to say, seeing that man sent me straight down Memory Lane.  But after I was walking a bit, I made a right onto What If Blvd.  What if he'd lived past 59?  Would if I'd gotten to watch him age?  What if he were alive today at 89?  What if he'd been alive to see that the angry, snappy, directionless daughter he loved despite her shortcomings turned into a relatively respectable middle-aged woman?  What if....

But seeing my mom and knowing that they were so in sync with one another, I don't think it's a huge mystery. I don't think a leopard changes his spots with age so the same guy I knew, I think, would have been the same guy at 89.  Slower in his gait, most likely and perhaps even slower in his sharp wit, but not by much I'd bet, but still Daddy.  Still Jim.  Still a gentleman who, like all old men, get away with flirting with younger girls because they're "so cute"!

It's been 30 years since my dad went home.  30 years since his pain ended.  30 years since seven children lost their father and 30 years since my mother lost the love of her life.  He must have been a great guy.  Why else would not a single day go by without me thinking of him?  Being 17 years old when he died, I don't think I really mourned him until I became more mature.  I was living in a kind of play when he passed; almost a fugue state.  I love that all this time has passed and I can miss him terribly yet love him immensely and not have to shed any tears.  Who knows, maybe if I'd lost him as an adult, like most of my siblings, I still would be able to accomplish this.  But I'll never know.  I only knows what I knows.  And this is what I know:

I know my father wasn't perfect.

I know my father was a gentleman who lived for his wife and children.

I know that I loved and sometimes hated my father.

I know he loved me and wanted to kick my arse at the same time.

I know he smelled like Bay Rum.

I know he wasn't perfect.

I know my mother became my mother and father upon his death.

I know he was the best Pop-Pop to his grandchildren...his own children would look on as he played with them and say to one another, "Who the hell is that guy?!"

I know he wasn't perfect.

But most of all, I know, truly and unequivocally, that he tried his best.

What else could a child ask for?

~ Eileen Cassidy Bishop

Grand Funk Railroad

I've been in a terrible funk the past month or so.  I haven't wanted to do anything or see anyone or even talk to anyone on the phone.  I did do things, though, and see people and talk to them on the phone because that's what you do, right?  We're adults and we don't have the luxury of folding in on ourselves.  Not when there are houses to run and children to raise and home-fires to keep burning.  So we carry on like the good little soldiers we are and except for perhaps our housemates, everyone is none the wiser.

The lights are coming back on for me.  Things are looking brighter and more clear; kind of like blinking a few times when you wake up in the morning.  And because I'm feeling a bit more aware I'm trying to figure out what, if anything, got me into this situation.  I think I've discovered, or re-discovered some things and I'd like to share because I don't think I'm alone.

I realize I have put too much worth on some of those close to me and not enough on myself.  I've assumed that you would do for me what I would do for you; I've been wrong.  I took for granted and assumed that you would defend my honor as I would yours, that you would stand up to people who put me down or lied about me as I would for you.  It would never cross my mind to not get involved in something when clearly you needed me to stand by your side.  Perhaps not agree with your stance, but certainly to defend your right to say it without the fear of being attacked.  I think I've even earned a bit of a reputation, good or bad, of not holding back when I see someone or something I care about being treated unjustly (I sound like a super hero, don't I? Just call me MegaMouth)

After discovering what I think was the root cause, I then realized I was angry and hurt and had incredible feelings of abandonment.  These people close to me had no idea the way I was feeling!  How could they possibly explain their actions or even change their actions if they had no idea there even was a need in the first place?

So back to my discovery, unless I am a narcissist, I can't expect people to act exactly as I do and if I do, I will be sadly disappointed.  My mom told me this exact thing once (yes, yes, another Mom reference!) and though I always remembered it, I never took it to heart.  Well I do now!  And simply, their existence in my life is far more important to me than they're inability to follow my secret rules.  I'm  not angry anymore; not at them at least.  People will act the way their hearts and consciences lead them and if it's alongside me, so be it, if not, well, so be it!

I think it's important to mention, too, that their worth to me has not changed in the least.  However, I have realized that I will value myself more than I have previously.  I think I'm an exceptionally caring and conscientious person.  And although I value you, I'm not concerned as to whether or not you agree with my self-assessment...to the contrary, I don't want to know!  You know that old expression, "if you don't want to hear the answer, don't ask the question"?  Yeah, well, I ain't askin'!!!

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

Choices

Dropping the kids at school this morning I looked around at all the working moms looking so pretty and done-up while I had on my workout clothes and a scrunchy hair tie around my wrist and it got me thinking; how many moms work because they need to make ends meet and how many work because this is what they're meant to do and what they have always desired to do?  How many get up in the morning, do their crazy morning routine of getting all the kids fed, dressed, and out the door while doing the same for themselves...not to mention preparing lunches and snacks?  How many do this and are happy to fulfill their ambitions and how many curse their financial needs to have to put them above their wants of staying home with their kids keeping the home-fires burning instead of having to re-stoke them when they get home after a very hard albeit satisfying day’s work?  I'm the latter mom; I'd be cursing all the way through my morning routine, all the way to the office, all the way to the coffee machine... Come to think of it, I did this even before I had kids!!  

You see, my career picked me, not me it.  I was in staff recruiting and sales for 12 years.  I made a very good living at it and had great people working with me.  But I didn’t wake up every day looking forward to the work day.  There was a lot of “cold calling”…that’s calling strangers in high positions and trying, in the 30 seconds they’d allow you, to win them over long enough to allow you an additional 2 minute sales pitch.  If you got through that without hearing a “no thanks” or, worse yet, the ominous click of the call being ended, you would lay out your hoops and begin jumping through them with the hopes that if you do it well enough, the person or people you’re peddling to the manager will get their turn at the hoops (interviewing).  In the beginning of my career this happened once every 10 or 15 calls and more often than not, at the end of the process, I’d get contracts signed and staff placed.  Toward the end, though, in the late 90’s and early 2000’s when things weren’t so great in the country, that number was more like 20 or 30+ calls before I’d get the courtesy of the two minute pitch and that number climbed significantly for hoop-jumping opportunities.  Because I was in the ‘contract’ business, once a consultant was placed I then had to make sure everyone was happy doing their job and everyone else was happy paying them (and me) for it.  Sometimes I’d get yelled at…by everyone.  Sounds like bliss, yes?

It was never a “sexy” career; even at its height.  People didn’t have a whole lotta interest when I told them what I did for a living.  They’d either nod in that polite, “good for you” kind of way or wrinkle their noses and say, “oh, so you’re a head hunter”. Ugh!  Anyone in staffing hates that expression!  “Um, no, I’m in staffing”.  “Right, same thing.” Aargh! “Yes, same thing.” [jerk]  Not many high school seniors dream of one day becoming a staffing sales consultant.  Human Resource executive?  Maybe.  But “head hunter”?  Not likely!

But back to the topic at hand!  If the timing had been different and I’d become pregnant with my first child while still working (I was taking some time off using some of the unemployment money I’d been storing up) and the industry was like that of the early to mid 90’s, I’m sure I would have been a working mom.  I never even considered otherwise.  Many, if not most of my friends were so it was basically a no-brainer.  I thank Heaven that the timing worked out the way it did and that we were financially able to survive on one income because I’ve been very happy being with my kids this far.  But it wasn’t a hard decision for me to make.  Like I said, I wasn’t living the dream doing what I was doing; I didn’t go to school and log in umpteen hours learning a skill that would be wasted staying home.  I never felt like I was wasting my education or my skills staying home though understandably, I think many women would and do feel that way.  I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.  On the contrary, I think staying home and feeling like you’re doing yourself an injustice is doing yourself and injustice and in turn, an injustice to your family.

So because you all need my permission, I grant it!  You have my permission to MAKE YOURSELF HAPPY by donning a business casual outfit and heading to the office, or scrubs, or a fire helmet, or a police badge, or an apron.  Make no excuses for your choice; if you have an excuse or feel you need to make one, I’m thinking maybe you didn’t make the right choice so take another look.  I’ve never regretted my choice.  I’ve got plenty o’ regrets, but choosing my current career path is and never will be one of them.

(So how many of you have a scrunchy hair tie on your wrist right now?)

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop