Introspection and Perspicacity

I have a confession to make. Over the years I have tried to avoid Martha Stewart's influence. Don't know why, really. I don't think she's evil or anything.

Perhaps it has something to do with her focus on domestic bliss. She cooks, cleans, arranges, crafts, entertains and even gardens to perfection. I, on the other hand, was the girl in my pre-teen gaggle who didn't want to get married and start a family right away. I wanted a career!

Sitting on the swings at the local park, I shared my secrets and divulged my dreams: a maid would do all my housework. My home would be a palace! With polished wood and roomy spaces. Eight long years was plenty of time to conquer the business world and rise to a lofty rung on the corporate ladder. At the ripe old age of 26 I would be ready to start a family. Then I would have three or four gorgeous and intelligent children with a charming prince of a husband and my life would be picture perfect.

Now that I've walked the road of stay-at-home mom for two years, I feel a bit sheepish. Those childhood goals molded my first post-college years. I enjoyed 12 (not 8) career years. And I didn't get nearly as high on the corporate ladder as I thought I would. (Though I certainly tried.) I did have a cleaning lady for 2 of those years. But I didn't get married and start a family by age 26. I married at 39 and gave birth to Little Sprout at the pivotal age of 42. I feel certain that I have more than a few career years left in me, if the fates allow.

What is even more strange is dabbling in Martha Stewart recipes and projects. Here is my list to date:

Chocolate-filled Eggs for Easter These are dramatic and delicious!
Tomato Tart ...layered with roasted garlic and fontina cheese
Felt Fortune Cookies made as favors for a February group dinner
Heart-shaped Soap easy and fun, especially with a soap kettle
Ginger Carrot Soup Sweet mercy, this soup is good!
Chai-Spiced Cider Punch I use the spice blend for mulled cider.

While the list isn't long, I use the recipes repeatedly and often. That Martha, she gets me every time!

Perspicacity
Last evening I had a very introspective chat with a longtime (though not childhood) friend. She intimated to me reactions to old letters that her deceased parents had exchanged in the 1950's, when their young adult lives were just getting started. Her father, then traing to be a pilot, had written with a perspicacity that belied his years. Her mother had aspired to career success as a writer. They were going to conquer the world!

But life for most women in those days meant getting married and raising children at home. My friend's mother had gotten caught in that stereotypical role and ultimately had become embittered that her intellect (which was considerable and impressive) hadn't been enough to sail through the social mire.

Do today's stay-at-home moms still worry about being trapped in their child-rearing role? What are the economics of motherhood for today's woman? Are comeback moms opting back in as often as we'd like to think?

If my own experience is any indicator I would say yes, we still do worry. But perhaps not so much. What are your thoughts? Leave your comments either in the comments area or send me an e-mail. I'd love to hear what you think.

A Life Well Lived

I couldn't help but be moved by the words you are about to read. They reminded me of my older sister (now dearly departed) whose final years were spent in a nursing home. Multiple Sclerosis claimed her life at the age of 38. My grandmother turned 100 this past year and she currently lives in a nursing home.

Whether or not the following story is true is inconsequential. If there are people in your life that you love who rely on managed care, please go to SEE them. The young soul within them will rejoice at the footprint they have left on your heart.

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When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health.

And now this little old Scottish lady, with seemingly nothing left to give to the world, is the author of this simple, yet eloquent, poem that is traveling the world by Internet. Goes to show that we all leave "SOME footprints in time".....

A Crabby Old Woman
What do you see, nurses ….. What do you see?
What are you thinking ….. When you’re looking at me?
A crabby old woman ….. Not very wise?
Uncertain of habit ….. With faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food ….. And makes no reply,
When you say in a loud voice ….. “I do wish you’d try!”
Who seems not to notice ….. The things that you do,
And forever is losing ….. A stocking or shoe?

Who, resisting or not ….. Lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding ….. The long day to fill?
Is that what you’re thinking?? ….. Is that what you see??
Then open your eyes, nurse ….. You’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am ….. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding ….. As I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of ten ….. With a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters ….. Who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen ….. With wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon now ….. A lover she’ll meet.
A bride soon at twenty ….. My heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows ….. That I promised to keep.

At twenty-five now ….. I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide ….. And a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty ….. My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other ….. With ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons ….. Have grown and are gone,
But my man’s beside me …..To see I don’t mourn
At fifty once more ….. Babies play round my knee,
Again we know children ….. My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me ….. My husband is dead,
I look at the future ….. I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing …..Young of their own ,
And I think of the years ….. And the love that I’ve known.

I’m now an old woman ….. And nature is cruel;
Tis jest to make old age ….. Look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles ….. Grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone ….. Where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass ….. A young girl still dwells,
And now and again ….. My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys ….. I remember the pain,
And I’m loving and living ….. Life over again.

I think of the years ….. All too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact ….. That nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people ….. Open and see,
Not a crabby old woman ….. Look closer …. see, ME!!

~ Author Unknown