A Real-Life Love Story

This is a real-life love story.

Yesterday, I attended a memorial service for a woman I've known my entire life. She was 101. Her husband passed in 2000; he was 96 or 97.

They were still traveling the world in their '80s. They, along with a few other seniors I've known, are the reason why I don't think of people in their '60s and '70 as being old.

All my life, this couple just was (If you know what I mean). They just seemed to have been made for one another. When I learned their entire story, this seemed even more so.

It seems they had first met in college, but someone's parents didn't approve. They went their separate ways, marrying others. She divorced. Something that wasn't done much in that time. He and his wife had a daughter.

His wife died suddenly after their child was grown. He reconnected with his(true?) love. His daughter gave her blessing; she was off living her own life.

Of course the townspeople were "appalled." People always have stuff to say. But they were married a year later. They were together for 41 years. I can't imagine either of them with anyone else, because that's all I ever saw.

The lesson in this for me is that you must live your life for yourself and stop worrying about what other people think or say. If they had listened to the folks, they would not have been together and had all those years.

She nursed him at the end of his life when his health declined. At his funeral, she stood there ramrod straight (her posture was as good as any Marine's). Now, they're together again.

This is a real-life love story.

From one extreme to the other

I partipated in a facilitated discussion today about women, love and life. It was sponsored by Zeta Phi Beta sorority at Lincoln University.

The conversation ranged over a wide variety of topics. At one point though, one of the women remarked on the lyrics of current music. Many of us felt the music was inappropriate and not respectful of women.

Later I plugged in my iPod and dialed up my Jackson 5 greatest hits. In the song "Maybe Tomorrow," MJ poignantly sings "You are the book that I read. You are the song that I sing. You are the four season of my life." While he was only around 12, he really touches you as he sings.

What happened to that kind of music? And what does it say about us that we now shake our behinds to "back that thing up?"

I left that gathering and attended the football game between Lincoln U and Morehouse. Known as "The House," Morehouse is one of the more prestigious HBCUs in the nation, counting men such as Martin Luther King, Jr., among its alumni. Lincoln, once known as the "Black Harvard of the Midwest," has turned out its share of successful alumni as well.

Today, LU did not perform well on the football field, though the Marching Musical Storm put on yet another fabulous performance at halftime. As is often the case at HBCUs, no one gets up at halftime, but stays to enjoy the show.

A marching band battle

I recently took my favorite nine-year-old to see the Battle of the Bands between Lincoln University of Missouri and Langston University. Both bands put on a quite a show, and for two hours were treated to music, dance moves and cheering. The only drawback was that we were inside the gym. That made the two powerful units even louder than necessary.

The nine-year-old wanted to know if the competition was going to be like the movie Drumline? She had a ball and was very impressed. She can't wait for more.

I am so proud of Lincoln's band. My soror is the band director, and they are the bomb! They're currently competing to go to the Honda Battle of the Bands in Atlanta. I am spreading the word through Facebook, Twitter and every other social network I know telling people to vote for LU.

So do it today and every day through the end of October. www.HondaBattleoftheBands.com

How Time Flies

My goddaughter moved in her college dorm on Friday. I went along with her and her mom where I embarassed her taking pictures, helped get her room set up and marveled that she was old enough to go to college.

It doesn't seem that long ago that I was moving into my first dorm room. It certainly doesn't seem to be that long since I went to hospital and held her for the first time. I remember the three year old arguing with me about whether the birds at the pond were ducks or geese (I was right but I finally gave in because she was convinced). When she was eight, we made our own icing for our Christmas cookies. It was a little thin and runny, but we ate them anyway. She's been my partner in many adventures when her mother generously allowed me to "borrow" her and introduce her to my many hobbies.

When I worked in the tourism industry, I took her along to festivals, reenactments and other great sites in the state. And now, she's attending Westminster in Fulton, site of Winston Churchill's famous Iron Curtain Speech. The memorial and a piece of the Berlin Wall occupy prominent places on the campus. It's a true tourism destination in our state.

I'm excited for her as she starts on this new journey. And if my tourism exposure didn't get her interest before now, then being on a campus with a lot of tourists coming through might.

Living Outside the Box

There’s a popular song being played on the radio right now where the singer - a young woman - is bemoaning the fact that the object of her desire doesn’t notice her. She compares herself to the woman who does have his attention, noting “she wears short skirts, I wear sneakers,” and longingly wishes for him to see what’s right in front of his face.

As this song began to be played in frequent rotation, I found myself becoming annoyed with it. Not because the man can’t see the singer for who she is; that’s an issue for another day. No, I’m annoyed because the singer has so narrowly defined herself. Why does she have to be one or the other? Why can’t she be both the girl who wears sneakers and the one who wears high heels? Why can’t she be fully dimensional with many different sides?

This juxtaposition works as a metaphor in the song, but in real life we need to stop putting ourselves in boxes. This type of thinking limits us. We need to look at ourselves differently and recognize all the facets of our personalities. We need to explore who we are and experience whatever it is that intrigues us, no matter whether or not it is conventional to do so.

A few years back a group of us were trying to organize a horseback riding excursion. One friend stated, “black people don’t ride horses.” Why not? Who said? Show me where this rule is written down. Why do we put limits on ourselves and then become upset when others try to limit us? Those of us who went had a great time (well except for the one friend whose horse decided it was time to head for the barn, even though it wasn’t time to head for the barn).

Finding, and following, your passion

I went to see Julie and Julia today and I have the book on hold at the library. It was such a cute movie.

I really liked how the main character figured out a way to combine her passions for food and writing. She made it work and it worked out well for her.

That got me to thinking about how I could follow my passion. I love traveling and exploring new places, experiencing neighborhoods and restaurants serving local food. I love reading mysteries and the NFL. I am a contradiction.

So how do I combine these passions and take my life in a new direction? I'm not entirely sure, but I'm going to figure it out. Just like Julie and Julia did.

The Wonderful Word “No”

It’s one of the first words we learn. As toddlers, we utter it frequently and with strong emphasis. And yet, by the time we become adult women, we are afraid of it.

We shouldn’t be. Instead we should use it judiciously, to save our sanity, protect our health and maintain balance in our lives.

The word “no” is drummed out of us as little girls. Be nice. Be sweet. Don’t be mean. Don’t be selfish. Share.

All great concepts used to socialize us and make us fit to live in “polite society.” But little girls are molded to go the extra step and put others first.

By the time we’re adults, we don’t know how or we don’t feel comfortable taking care of ourselves. “No” is not a reglar part of our vocabulary. It needs to be.

We have to bring back the word “no.” When you’re overworked, stressed, worn out, taken advantage of or just flat being used, just say "NO."
No, I can’t head up that project. No, I can’t drive the carpool this week. No, I can’t carry your burden for you.

It feels selfish. But it's necessary.