Where My Story Begins November 5, 2014

Whether I’m coming inside from rain, snow or sunshine, it is the same every time. From the ground up, I am greeted with the words that are strategically placed in my forever home for all to see. It’s a statement for visitors and a reminder for the family. Home is where your story begins, it reads.

It has certainly been true for me during my four years living here. And it’s been quite a story to live. One filled with sights, smells and sounds that have this powerful way of making the world go round. I reflected on this today as I heard a favorite song of ours around here. “Lights will guide you home, and I will try to fix you,” sings Chris Martin of Coldplay.

It’s hard to believe the song came out almost ten whole people years ago already. I wasn’t even around then. But my people were, and they have experienced their fair share of ups and downs along the way. Through good times and bad, I get the impression this is a song that has encapsulated memories for mom of emotional survival. Of passion. Of true and unconditional love.

It was the last song mom and dad danced to on their wedding night. I’ve often thought of how the lyrics describe how I feel about my beloved people. And when no nursery rhymes came to mind in a moment of panic when dear baby Carter was a few days old, it became a bedtime song for him. It takes on a variety of meanings depending on one’s perspective in life, as any good song should do.

Personally I identify most with the concept that light will indeed guide us home, where there will always be someone waiting who loves you. Someone who can fix you with their love.

I guess that’s why I find such comfort in the familiarity of the words that welcome me back into my forever home multiple times a day. It doesn’t matter what time of year it is or what the weather is doing outside, because I know inside will be the same. It’s a message I can’t hear too much. It’s a message I don’t think anyone can hear too much. Home is where your story begins. I’m so blessed to say mine starts here.

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Light Will Guide Me Home June 7, 2014

I don’t know much about the people thing called money. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – when it comes to all things green stuff, I’m pretty clueless. Maybe it’s that I don’t see colors all that well. But I do know it can’t buy happiness. It doesn’t truly “fix” anything.

I thought of it as mom sang dear baby Carter his favorite lullaby today. It might sound silly, but he loves this song. I think it’s because mom does, but (the way I see it) that’s how it should be. It started because mom was overtired in those early days when Carter came home and couldn’t remember a typical lullaby. There are a whole bunch she could have sang to him, but she chose this one. And five months later, it still seems to do the trick.

“When you try your best, but you don’t succeed,” croons Coldplay’s Chris Martin in “Fix You,” “When you get what you want but not what you need. When you feel so tired but you can’t sleep, stuck in reverse. When the tears come streaming down your face. When you lose something you can’t replace. When you love someone but it goes to waste, could it be worse? Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones and I will try to fix you.”

It’s the same Coldplay favorite mom and dad danced to last the night they were married. And it had taken on a whole new meaning now, thanks (I think) primarily to the lack of sleep referenced early in the song. But also thanks to the tears.

They happen around here from time to time. And If I thought mom (or dad’s very occasional) tears ripped my dear little doggie heart out, I had no idea what to expect. Carter’s tears, especially in those early days, tore my little doggie heart to pieces. I wanted nothing more than to do exactly as that Coldplay song said. I wanted to fix it.

While his moments of sheer and complete terror to the point of the kind of tears of the early days have gotten few and far between, I often seek refuge in the dark cover of the basement when it happens. But today as mom sang those words, the words of an unexpectedly perfectly fitting lullaby, to dear little Carter, it came to me.

I don’t know much about money. While I know it doesn’t buy happiness, if I were to someday come across a large some of money for some silly reason I know exactly what I would spend it on. I would fix as many people as possible. I would use it for scholarships or grants or foundations or whatever would help make the world get out of reverse. I know money probably can’t actually fix anything, but I would do what I could.

And if money doesn’t work, I know light will. Joy. From the ground up, I will find a way to make the crying stop. Babies, adults and elderly alike. That is my mission. I don’t have to know much about money to know that.

Fixing You: A Trip All Over March 7, 2013

I’ve broken a few things lately. My dearly beloved Mrs. Prickles and Flea both have holes in them so I haven’t seen them in a while. I think I killed them with kindness and the intention is for someone to sew them up before I play with them again. What a funny concept: they are getting fixed so I can kill them with kindness all over again.

If only it were that simple for the people in my life. If only when something got close-to-broken, it could be put aside for fixing by some magical resource before it is restored for future appreciation. I know from my time with people that is not how it works. People generally don’t fix things unless they’re completely broken. Well, Mrs. Prickles and Flea aren’t exactly broken in my book and yet they are on the re-assembly line. I think the people in my life could benefit from some ground-level perspective on restoration.

My pals in the blogosphere know I dance with my mom when no one is watching (at least most of the time). Well, as a result of this I have become privy to some top secret music, including (but not limited to) the CD my parents burned for a party favor at their wedding. One of the songs on there I know means a lot to my mom is “Fix You” by Coldplay. It was one of the last songs they danced to on their wedding night (she reminds dad all the time). And the lyrics pack a pretty emotional punch if you ask me.

When you try your best but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Some things aren’t worth fixing, but this song kind of stands in the way of that philosophy. And I love it. It offers hope to the hopeless, love to the loveless and power to the powerless. This too can be fixed.

I had a doggie dream last night that brought all of this to the forefront of my mind. I saw my parents blissful and happy in a foreign place. Several foreign places actually. They were explorers on some sort of journey and they were laughing. It reminded me a bit of the Safeco commercial where the couple honeymoons “all over.”

My parents never took a honeymoon. It wasn’t for any reason necessarily, but the timing and the money just didn’t come together in a way that allowed it. They went away for a few days on something my mom calls a “mini-moon” instead. I did not know them then. And I do not approve.

So if I were ever to come across seven days and $10,000 at my disposal I know exactly what I would do. I would find some sort of mobile traveling unit like the one in the commercial, figure out a way to cancel anything and everything my parents had going on for a week, and whisk them away to a long-overdue honeymoon to “all over.” No one deserves it as much as they do and it would be the least I could do to thank them for everything they’ve done for little ole me. It would be a dream come true for this little breaker of things to fix that for the people I love more than anything.