I have spent a lot of time thinking about what it means to love unconditionally. It's the kind of love that God has for us. People like to throw that term around, but I’m not sure many understand what it really means to love someone regardless of their actions. Yes, I’ve heard the “I love you, but I hate your behavior” line. I’m just not buying it.
How many people decide to marry thinking it is going to last forever and then it ends in divorce? Too many. Instead of planning for a lifetime together, people today plan for the possibility of divorce. Prenuptial agreements are very popular for successful people who want to protect themselves from losing their assets, in case things don’t work out. So, considering the high divorce rate, does that mean people do not enter the state of holy matrimony loving each other unconditionally? Marriage is a decision to love until “death do you part.” You are supposed to work on it if there are problems, not throw up your hands and head to the nearest divorce lawyer. But can you love a spouse who breaks their vows and cheats on you? Or does the hurt and anger and broken trust make it impossible to get back what you had?
If we can’t find unconditional love at the marriage altar, where can we find it? It’s easy to love friends unconditionally when times are good, but what about when they hurt you, distance themselves, betray you? Are we really willing to turn the other cheek? Do we still love them unconditionally? Are we ready to forgive so easily? Does a broken heart trump unconditional love? I think the pain of hurt makes it impossible to go back to a state of pure unconditional love. Something is broken, maybe trust. Regaining 100% trust may be a nearly impossible thing to do.
The only place I find genuine unconditional love to exist is between parent and child. That is one relationship where, no matter what the child does or says, the parent is going to love them and help them get through it. A good parent never turns their back on a child no matter what the cost, no matter how big the heartache. Somehow, when it’s your child, you can get past the anger, the hurt, and broken trust and stand by them. You keep trying because that is what unconditional love is in its purest state. It is as close to God's love as we mere mortals will experience on earth.
Just think of that moment when your first born was placed in your arms for the first time. You know, from that moment on, that this new life is yours to protect, love and cherish forever. The love you feel almost takes your breath away. That is unconditional love.
I received a special request to blog about phone hang ups so I will do my best. I have rarely been hung up on, but I know that it is infuriating when it happens, no matter who is on the other end. It is about as rude as one can be using the telephone, as far as I am concerned. I think my mother hung up on me once or twice, but she was allowed to be rude, she was my mother and that excuses her bad behavior. Mothers can get away with things that other people can’t, that is one of the ten commandments. In my mother’s case, she always felt that I provoke her bad behavior by my choice of words, tone or attitude. In any case there would be no winning that argument.
If someone, other than my mother, were to hang up on me, that might be the last time I talk to them. If someone has the audacity to hang up in the middle of a conversation, without allowing me the consideration to have my say or respond, then there is nothing left to say. Chances are that is it a heated conversation to begin with if it ends in a hang up. It leaves the person hung up on angry about the conversation, as well as, the abrupt, rude, disrespectful, ending to it. There is really no excuse for such behavior and if someone thinks so little of you as to hang up, you better re-examine that relationship more closely.
There may be times when hanging up is excusable, in my opinion. One exception to the rule are telemarketers who will not take no for an answer and just keep talking. We all know they like to call at dinner time, when they are sure people are home. On top of that, I don’t recall ever saying yes to any offer a telemarketer has made to me, and I have had plenty of these calls. So, when they start talking, and you’ve heard it all before, and you say sorry I am not interested once or twice, then it is perfectly ok to hang up on them. I have registered all my phone number with the DO NOT CALL registry so that I will not get many if at all and they will be fined if reported. I will post the link below if you haven’t done it.
Also, if someone is screaming in your ear about something they are pissed off about and you can’t get a word in edge-wise, then say you are going to hang up one or twice, as a warning, then do it. You don’t not have to subject yourself to verbal abuse.
Most serious conversations would be better had in person anyway. Body language plays a big role in communication and might set a different tone for the conversation. On the other hand, if the person has violent tendencies, then the phone would be much better.
Personally, I would find it very hard to hang up on someone. But if you ever want to get someone really pissed off, this would be one fool proof way to do it. Many people will write you off after that, so if you want to end a relationship give it a try.
https://www.donotcall.gov/register/reg.aspx National DO NOT CALL registry
My parents were not only husband and wife, they were also first cousins. Everyone is always interested to hear how this happened to come about, so I am going to tell you the story.
As my mother approached 36, my grandmother worried that she would never get married. My mother even said that she intended never to get married. An unmarried daughter does not sit well with a little old Italian lady who wants to see her daughter taken care of by a man and also wants more grandchildren. So my grandmother decided to “make things happen.”
My grandmother wrote to her brother in Sicily. He had a single son who was 29 years old. Letters went back and forth until the elders decided this would be a good match for their children. Then my grandmother broke the news to my mother. She told her that her brother had a single son who wanted to marry her and since her brother was a good man, his son must also be a good man. My mother said “No.” My grandmother took out my father’s picture. He was extremely handsome, a long the lines of a Clark Gable (no exaggeration). My mother said, “No.” My grandmother insisted that all they would do is go there and meet him, if my mother didn’t like him she would not have to marry him. She wore my mother down and she said “OK.”
So, in August 1952, my grandmother and mother got on a boat to Sicily with all their luggage, which happened to include a huge formal wedding dress in the trunk. The wedding invitations already went out to all the family in Sicily. My parents “courted,” with chaperones, for three weeks and were married on September 20, 1952. My father took my mother to Rome for a honeymoon. There they stayed with an elderly couple who hid my father from the Germans during World War II. When the honeymoon was over, my mother and her grandmother came home to Brooklyn and filed the paperwork for my father to come to America. He arrived here in May, 1953 and they stayed in my grandmother‘s apartment.
My grandmother loved her nephew/son in-law, and she didn’t want him to work for six months. But my father was always a hard worker and couldn’t sit around doing nothing. He got a job in a shoe factory making shoes. When an apartment opened up in my grandmother’s six family house, she gave it to my mother and father.
In August, 1954 I was born. Because I was born of this “special union” I instantly became my grandmother’s favorite grandchild. She doted on me and never allowed my mother to scold me when she was around. Even though she died when I was four, I have very fond memories of her still today.
I often asked how my parents were allowed to marry when it is taboo for first cousins to marry. Apparently, no one was concerned about genetic defects in our family. The rational I got was that because my parents did not grow up together and didn’t know each other, it was acceptable for them to marry.
I guess I should be thankful because I wouldn’t be here otherwise!
The day is almost over and nothing has inspired me to write in my blog today. Not a word, not an experience, not a conversation. I always have so much to say about everything and anything, but today my mind has been blank.
So I am brain dead now. It’s late for me and I go to bed soon so there is no way anything is going to come to me now.
Sorry.
This question came up yesterday as a topic of conversation and I thought I would address it today, from my perspective. There are a lot of factors to take into consideration, so the question cannot be answered with a simple yes or no. I grew up in a family where it was ingrained in us to work hard and achieve success. Our family also believed in helping those who helped themselves. My parents were always quick to lend a hand to make our lives easier, even if we didn’t need or ask for help.
In my case, both my husband and I had college educations, I saved up quite a bit of money and when we married we were doing very well financially. We were both working and saving up to buy our own home where we could raise our family. After I got pregnant with our first child, I knew I was going to be a stay at home mom. When the baby was 18 months old we bought our home and had only one salary with more expenses. We were able to manage, but things were a lot tighter money wise. So when some expensive house repairs came up, my parents offered to pay for the cost of them. We had a water main break, the house needed to be painted on the outside, and the basement needed to be waterproofed. These were all costly jobs and my parents wanted to take the burden of the expense off of us. They were able to do it and they never asked for anything in return. My husband always worked and provided for our family, and my parents agreed with my decision to stay home and raise my children.
Many adult children are struggling today because of the economy. Even if they want to work, there are no jobs out there to be had and there is a lot of competition for the ones there are. I think as long as children are working hard at jobs or at getting a good education, parents should help out as much as possible. If that means children have to stay home longer to save up money before moving out, or helping pay off college loans, or help furnishing a new house, condo or apartment, then that’s what parents who can afford it should do. And, let's not forget that a college education at a private school can easily cost $130,000 for four years. That kind of money, with interest, could take a lifetime to pay off. As long as the child is motivated and working hard, a parent should be there supporting and encouraging them in any way possible. One day they will get traction and be able to stand on their own and they will do it sooner with a little help.
However, if a child isn’t doing anything to help themselves, isn’t motivated to work or attend school, and comes to expect or feel entitled to help, then it’s time to rethink any kind of assistance. Assisting lazy kids with attitudes of entitlement isn’t helping them, it’s enabling them to do nothing. They will always be dependent and bleed you dry financially if you let them.
Kids who grow up with good strong values will not want their parents help. Sometimes they have to graciously accept their parents help, when they offer it, because parents still want to feel needed. A parent’s job is never done. Once you have a child a parent will worry about them for the rest of their life and want to take care of them and know they are ok. It’s part of the parent/child relationship.
If you’ve done your job and raised hard working children, then it becomes your pleasure and your duty, if you are able, to lend a hand when needed.
I have watched American Idol for the past ten years and I love this show. I enjoy watching different singers take songs I’ve heard before and make them sound brand new. I think what I appreciate most is that talented people across America get a real chance to live their dreams by competing on the show. Many have been discovered through the process and gone on to have great music careers, not just the winners. I never realized there was so many talented singers out there.
This season seems very promising to me. There are so many very talented singers I don’t know how they are going to narrow it down to the top 24, then the top 12 and come out with one winner. Once I get to the top 12 I feel terrible every time someone gets voted off. It looks to be an exciting season.
Of course anyone who knows me knows that Carrie Underwood is my favorite winner from season 4. She is not only a phenomenal singer, but she is a great role model as a human being. In fact, most of the singers to come away from that show seems to be the nicest people. You can’t help but want them all to win.
This season we have lost Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul and have two new judges, Steven Tyler and Jennifer Lopez. I thought Simon’s absence would jeopardize the show. Instead I find there is a lot less bickering and joking around between the judges and more attention is focused on giving constructive criticism to the contestants. I have to say that I am enjoying the new judges so much that I don’t even miss Simon. I hope this professional behavior on the part of the judges continues throughout this season.
If you haven’t been watching, it’s not too late to jump on board. They will be selecting the top 24 and the live shows will begin soon. If the singers perform as well as they have in the auditions you will be seeing some amazing performers, some of whom are only 15 and 16 years old!
Who will be this year’s American Idol? It’s going to be a tough call. I don’t envy the job of the judges.
My high school French teacher was Miss Leah Silverman. She may have changed the course of my life. I’ll never know that for sure, but I suspect she did.
I always loved the French language from the moment I set foot in my first class in 7th grade. It came easy to me and I enjoyed it. I wanted to share what I learned so I made my brother and cousin take classes with me at night so I could teach them what I learned. I took it for three years in middle school and then continued on in high school.
Miss Silverman walked into my first French class in high school. She was very plain looking. Pale skin, red hair always in a bun, and she wore little, short black boots on her feet. Her dresses were all identical except for the material. I suspect she made them all herself from a McCall’s pattern. All boxed dresses, a pocket on each side, collar, and three button on top. She always walked into the room promptly, with an arm full of books and got right down to business. I think she looked older than she really was because of her appearance. She was the epitome of the word old maid.
Miss Silverman took teaching very seriously. There were no jokes or digressions to stories of her life or trips to France. We stuck to the book and learned our grammar, vocabulary and culture. Somehow she took the joy out of learning French for me. She made me uneasy though she never really did anything to me.
As in any language class, participation is very important. It’s the only time you really get to practice speaking the language. I hated to speak French because my accent was terrible. When she called on me, I was nervous and uneasy, which didn’t help my accent at all. One day, after struggling to read something out loud, she asked to see me after class. I dreaded this like you would not believe. After class I reluctantly approached her desk. She told me that my pronunciation needed work and that I should pick out a sentence a day to read to her after each class. I was dying inside. There was no way this exercise was going to end because my accent was terrible. Then I remembered that my young English teacher knew French and offered to help any of us if we needed it. I decided to go to her, have her read me the sentence, and then try my best to imitate her when I got to French class. That worked. However, it also killed my confidence and ability in continuing with French and maybe teaching it one day.
When I got to college, I had the option of continuing with French or taking a new language. I chose to take Italian. I was afraid that I was not good enough to pursue French and felt maybe the other students would be ahead of me. Ironically, my brother went on to major in French when he got to college.
It’s now 40 years later and I still remember the first sentence I picked out to read:
Hier, toujours cheminant en revant, je suis arrivee sur la queue de la Seine. (trans. Yesterday while walking and dreaming, I arrived at the mouth of the Seine.) I will say it out loud every now and then and tell the story of Miss Silverman when I do. And I will wonder, if I had had another French teacher, if I would have continued my studies in French and became a teacher.
I guess I will never know the answer. But maybe I do…
A bit more irony. In 2001, 30 years after leaving Miss Silverman’s class and forgetting all my French, I went to a local college to take French classes. I got all A’s and the professors suggested I take graduate classes and get my Master’s degree and teach. I got all A’s in the graduate classes too and write two papers, in French that were over 25 pages each. I love French literature and being in class. So I think the answer to my question is yes I could have easily majored in French and become a teacher if Miss Silverman had bolstered my confidence instead of shooting it down.
