Yesterday my good friend Shanon posted something on Facebook (of course) that brought up a memory of my grandfather. Her post was, “Being Nice to someone you dislike doesn’t mean you’re fake. It means you are mature enough to tolerate your dislike towards them. Be Blessed!”
I was reminded of a story my grandpa used to tell of a man he worked with. This man HATED my grandfather with a passion. Every morning my grandpa had to pass him when going into work. He would smile and say a genuine good morning. After about 6 months the man couldn’t stand it anymore. He stopped my grandpa and said in the nastiest tone, why are you always nice to me? You know I hate you. My grandpa looked at him and said because Jesus commands me to. You can be as mean and as nasty to me as you want to be. I can’t control you. All I can control is my reaction to you. At that point the man broke down and began to tell my grandfather about his life. Because of this he was able to share Christ with this man. You never know how your behavior changes others.
This is what I, myself have to work on, you see, when I dislike someone who has treated me badly, it shows, on my face, in my tone, in my body language. Every ounce of my being says I don’t like you, I should not behave in such a manner. I had great examples showing me exactly why I shouldn’t behave this way.
Controlling your own behavior is really the only control we have over ourselves. Once we realize that we can then behave in a manner that is befitting what we say our belief system really is.
I say this for myself, I need to control me, not anyone else, as I write this I am reminded that the person this is speaking to is me. This is not one of those times I am irritated with others and am telling them they need to take a hard look at themselves.
I am talking to me, the man in the mirror as it were, it all starts there, within myself. We only have the power to change ourselves. We can’t change the way anyone else treats us, we can only change the way we treat them.
Prude?
So, on my twitter feed someone had retweeted a Cooper Hefner tweet. He was tweeting an interview that a London paper had done with him. His tweet inferred that the journalist was biased. Curious me, I read the article, and yes, while I do believe that the journalist already had her mind made up before the interview. However, Jr hardly helped himself during said interview.
During the interview he inferred that if one is religious they are a prude. Well that is what I want to address. I am religious, I am no prude, however I have a clear cut view on what I believe is right and what is wrong.
It is wrong for 10 year old girls to wear the playboy bunny emblazoned on their behinds. It is wrong for them to wear the charms, have purses or anything else that depicts this image. Why you ask, well, let me tell you, playboy is pornography, is this really what we want our daughters promoting at a young age?
I believe it is wrong for Target to sell certain books on their shelves, I believe it’s wrong for Robin Thicke’s uncensored Blurred Lines video to be on YouTube. Anyone can access it, it needs to be NC17, I don’t think children should be able to access it, yet there it is.
We are, as a society, so intent on proving our non prudishness that we have gone to the extreme.
Some things should be adult only, it should be left behind the counter in a brown wrapper.
You don’t have to be a prude or religious to know that out children are being over exposed to things that should be for adults. This is not the only generation to do this, it had been going on for a few decades now.
The end result is we now have 18 year old girls whose main goal in life is to be a 80 year old mans trophy, or to be featured in a certain magazine.
Teach your daughters about their brains, develop that as well as teaching them they are beautiful.
When I was little my grandfather was teaching me to read, my grandmother told him I was pretty therefore I didn’t need to know how to read. He laughed, she walked off, he then looked me in the eyes and told me ” listen well, you are pretty, but that will only get you so far in life, your mind will take you wherever you want to go. Develop that and it will last you a lifetime.”
I never forgot his words, I take a lot of pride in my looks, and am obsessed by them, but I take a greater pride in my intellect. Give that gift to your daughters instead of a bunny emblem.
Father’s in my Life
With it being Father’s Day soon I wanted to talk about the Father figures I have been fortunate to have in my life.
The very first male influence in my life was my grandfather; I cannot properly express how much I loved that man. To this day not one person can say anything bad about him in my presence. Not that anyone has anything bad to say, he was nothing short of awesome. My earliest memories are of him teaching me to read, taking me for car rides and buying me a nutty buddy and telling me not to tell grandma. Especially if I was too full to eat dinner after that, but my favorite memory are of the two of us eating apples.
I would sit in my rocking chair (which Elizabeth Anne has now) and he would sit in his recliner, he would peel the apple and then slice it. I would eat the peeling and he would eat the apple slices. He didn’t have teeth, well he had them, but only wore them to town and church, so he couldn’t chew the peel. It was our time, we would just talk and munch our apple, he taught me to love animals, to grow green things and appreciate laughter. He taught me that Jesus loves me and showed me, on a daily basis exactly what it meant to be a Christian. I am so fortunate that man was my first male influence.
I was so blessed to have wonderful Uncles in the mix, Uncle J.H., Uncle Walter, Uncle Albert, Uncle Wayne, Uncle Cecil, Uncle J.D. and so many male cousins. Pat, Albert, Gary, Larry just to name a few, they were all older and all influenced my way of thinking and my moral compass.
They laid the foundation for the man who would become my Dad, he was, blood wise, my great Uncle. He and his wife, my great Aunt would adopt me and become my mom and dad.
He taught me to laugh; life was too full of wonderful things to be serious all of the time. He taught me to find humor in everyday events; he built on the foundations of respecting the earth, taking care of what God gave us. He also had a deep love of Jesus and God, taking me to church every time the doors were opened. Teaching me to respect others beliefs, and learning everything I could about them, in order to witness more effectively. He taught me to read everything I could get my hands on, to educate myself in order to argue logically, and win. He was a great debater and enjoyed the fact that I could, in fact, hold my own with him.
He taught me discipline, a work ethic, be early, he would say, respect others time and smile. Treat others the way you want to be treated and you wont go wrong.
I’ll never forget him, I’ll always think of him as my Dad not my great uncle, he built on the foundations that my grandfather and other male family members started. He gave me a place to call home, a place filled with laughter, love, discipline and a strong relationship with Christ.
Memories
Well, it is Monday, I don’t know what to think, I am loving the weather, I did not like being out last week with eye issues. Yesterday was my parents wedding anniversary and my aunt passed away, bitter sweet day. My heart goes out to my cousins in the loss of their mother; I know what it is to lose that one person who is always in your corner no matter what. Even when you expect it, even when you know they will no longer be in pain, it’s hard. It is hard to accept, it is hard to find peace, it is hard to reconcile that your mom is gone. My thoughts are with them, my heart breaks for them, and yet I can see my grandmother and grandfather greeting her with open arms.
I have to tell you all, my grandmother was only fond of two of her daughter-in-laws that was my Aunt Laura Fay and my Aunt Dorothy, and they were the only ones she had really good words for. The rest, she didn’t say anything about, except for my Uncle Laverne’s wife, she was bitter towards her, but Aunt Dorothy and Aunt Laura Fay she loved. So I can totally imagine the greeting that Aunt Dorothy is getting right now. My Great Aunt Effie loved everyone, she was a lot like my mom, and I never heard her say one bad word about anyone. EVER. She was truly amazing; I know she was there as well to give a huge hug and a huge welcome home.
I know I write a lot about my parents, and with yesterday having been their anniversary I feel the need to tell a story. I have to be honest; I don’t remember which ones I have told before, so if this one is a repeat, please forgive me.
I never saw my parents argue, like ever, the only time I saw my mom slightly perturbed with my dad was during the period where he was teaching me to drive. I can only imagine the conversations they had in private about this; I never witnessed any of them. Well this one time, my dad was under the hood of the car and told me to give it some gas, which I did. He then says put the car in neutral and give it some gas, I said I don’t want to do that dad. He said it’ll be fine, so I put the car in what I think is neutral and give it some gas. Imagine my surprise when the car went flying backwards, knocking the fence down and leaving my dad standing there with a wrench in his hand with a surprised look on his face. Mom comes flying out of the house and points at dad and says these simple words “drivers Ed”. Turns and walks back into the house. I look at my dad, he looks at me, and says, well, hmmm I guess that settles that, now let’s fix that fence.
I really miss them, their humor, their wisdom, their influence; I know my cousins will miss their mom like I miss mine. She was kind, gentle and always put others before herself, it was no wonder my grandmother thought so highly of her.
Deep Thoughts for a Friday
I often wonder what I will be like, or what my life will be like when I am 90, will I be as spry and lively as my grandmother or will I develop Alzheimer’s like my mom. And while I know my mom was not my birth mother, I still worry about it. I want so bad to be like my grandmother, my aunts and uncles all appear to have inherited her constitution, my birth mother died from emphysema, so you can’t count her, she smoked. She should have known better, Testermans cannot smoke without consequences. My grandfather used to tell me that, I believe him, I never smoked, well, ok once when I was like 6 years old. It was nasty, and smelled bad, who wants to do something that tastes bad and makes you smell bad. Not me.
It is Friday and I have deep thoughts, not a good combination, I would prefer to have frivolous thoughts on a Friday.
Next week is the birthday of our country, I will, of course, be writing a special AngieWorld for it, I am still developing it, so totally look for that. I will be working on the 4th of July, just 7 to 4. I will work 5 days next week, I don’t even know how to do that anymore! It will be a challenge, I know I will be tired by the time Friday next comes around, pray for me.
I foresee a ton of coffee in my future, just to let you all know, ok, that is a warning, run and hide.
More Thoughts
Today is the memorial service for my former minister, I have struggled with going or not going. I have made the decision not to go, not out of any protest or because of the way his life ended. I made the decision based on the fact I have not gone to that particular church in several years. The family remains in my constant prayers, I simply cannot imagine their grief.
I read something on, of course, facebook that struck me. A person said that it is strange that someone is judged by their last act on this earth. She was speaking of people who choose to end their own life. What that statement made me think of was my grandfather, my most vivid memory of him is his last day on earth and how he chose to live it. He was 82 (I think), that morning he worked in the garden, then off to the church to work on the roof. Yes, the actual roof, he climbed the ladder and worked on the roof, a man in his 80’s. Then he came home and worked on the car, the came in and sat down and had a massive heart attack. His last day on earth was devoted to the church he helped build, it was devoted to making sure his family had food to eat and transportation. That is how I remember him and how I, for lack of a better word, judge his life. What I am trying to say, in my most convoluted way is that we are all judged by our last act. Whatever it is, it is not unique to that particular situation.
I can only hope that my last act on earth will be as equal to his, he was amazing and it is a hard legacy to live up to.
I am going to choose to remember my former pastor for his service to his parishioners and to the community. His sermons at times inspired me and frustrated me, I believe with my whole heart he tried always to do what he believed God was telling him to do. Frustrated due to the fact I believe he had an antiquated way of looking at women in ministry. I have said that before and I stand by it. I don’t believe in sugar-coating things. However, I always admired him due to his beliefs. I know he will be missed, by his family, the people in the church, the people he touched during his mission work in Russia. He truly was a man of God.
Angie World 