I do not want what I haven't got... or do I?

While reading the introduction in this book I received for review, I came across a phrase I vaguely recalled hearing before, one that's apparently been expressed in a variety of ways by a variety of people.

When I did a quick Google search for the origin of the quote, the results listed hundreds of folks saying basically the same thing, everyone from Elvis to Rita Mae Brown, with plenty of others in between and beyond.

Ultimately, Maya Angelou best summed up the concept I had read in the review book, the phrase I had Googled, with this:

It has been said that we need just three things in life: something to do, something to look forward to and someone to love.

— Maya Angelou

In spite of such wise words imparted by Angelou and others, I often feel compelled to be continually searching for more, searching for purpose, searching for bits and pieces to further patch together a full and fulfilling life for myself.

Why do I do that? If those three things — something to do, something to look forward to, someone to love — do in fact make for a full life, my search could easily end here, as I already do have a very full life, indeed.

I have something to do...
Every day I have more on the agenda than hours in the day. I have much to do — and even more that, despite my best intentions, doesn't get done.

Some of the duties are self-imposed, others are simply the day in and day out requirements of being a woman, wife, mother, grandmother doing my best with the blessings (and, sometimes, burdens) bestowed upon me.

I surely am not wanting when it comes to things to do.

I have something to look forward to...
Something to look forward to? I have that and then some.

In the short term, my April calendar is jam-packed with things to do, events to attend, grandchildren I get to spend time with.

In the long term, I look forward to goals I'm determined to achieve, additional blessings I will receive — new sons-in-law, more grandchildren, the memories my husband and I have yet to make with one another as well as with our growing family before our time is through.

I surely am not wanting when it comes to things to look forward to.

I have someone to love...
No, I have not just one someone to love, I am fortunate to have dozens upon dozens of someones to love.

At the top of the list is, of course, my immediate family — my husband, daughters, son-in-law, grandsons. The list also includes my family of origin, my husband's family of origin, plus my friends I now consider family, many of whom I'm closer to than I am much of my birth family, many of whom are my friends reading this right now.

I surely am not wanting for people to love.

When I stop and consider it, my cup surely does runneth over. I am not wanting for anything.

Except, perhaps, for the wisdom to find peace and contentment in that, rather than continually feeling the need to search for more.

photo: stock.xchng

This post linked to Grandparents Say It Saturday.

Today's question:

How close to 'full' is your cup?

10 signs of aging gracefully

When it comes to aging gracefully, forget the face creams, hair colors and exercises — the physical manifestations others see as we rack up the years. Instead, I prefer to focus on a different kind of trait that others see, one I think trumps the physical when considering how gracefully others are aging and how gracefully I'm aging myself.

That trait? It's attitude. For, as age is just a number, aging gracefully is just an attitude.

So when it comes to having the right attitude as I age, I look to the signs. Signs such as the following ten, which remind me of what’s important, what I need to remember as I attempt to age gracefully... as well as graciously, intentionally, hopefully.

Sign No. 10:

Sign No. 9:

Sign No. 8:

Sign No. 7:

Sign No. 6:

Sign No. 5:

Sign No. 4:

Sign No. 3:

Sign No. 2:

And the No. 1 sign of aging gracefully, the one I do my best to live by, day in and day out:

Today's question:

What does aging gracefully mean to you?

Celebrating Seuss

“You can find magic
wherever you look.
Sit back and relax,
all you need is a book.”
― Dr. Seuss

“When you think things are bad,
when you feel sour and blue,
when you start to get mad...
you should do what I do!
Just tell yourself, Duckie,
you're really quite lucky!
Some people are much more...
oh, ever so much more...
oh, muchly much-much more
unlucky than you!”
― Dr. Seuss, Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are?

Tomorrow, March 2, marks what would have been Dr. Seuss' 109th birthday. Bubby's class celebrated all things Seuss this week, topped off by a day of dress-up and green eggs and ham.

Bubby posed with his teacher, whom he loves and adores, then ate (or pretended to eat) the obligatory green eggs. Bubby's not a fan of eggs in general, and I'm not so sure even the prospect of them being green — his favorite color — made him change his mind.

(Food for thought: In the photo above that Megan texted me, the eggs don't seem to me to be all that green. When my girls were little, green eggs for our annual green-eggs-and-ham breakfast — on St. Patrick's Day because that's the way we rolled — were pretty much a Technicolor affair ... and scrambled. Go figure.)

In honor of Dr. Seuss, March 2 was designated a while back by the National Education Association and Random House as the official Read Across America Day. If you're looking for celebration ideas (and printables for some special fun), head on over to Seussville.

“You're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting,
So... get on your way!”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

Today's question:

Of Dr. Seuss' 46 children's books, which is your favorite?

'Grandmother Power' — 8 things I learned from Paola Gianturco

A little over a week ago, I had the privilege and honor of spending a day in Denver with Paola Gianturco, a powerhouse of a grandmother and photo journalist who has documented women's lives in five phenomenal books.

The occasion was a presentation on Paola's most recent book, Grandmother Power, in which she shares photos and stories of activist grandmothers around the world, the stories told in the words of the women themselves.

After the presentation and luncheon in Paola's honor, I had the pleasure of interviewing Paola Gianturco — pronounced Pow-LA John-TUR-co — privately for an upcoming article on Grandparents.com (and possibly other websites, too). Once those articles are published, I will pass along the links to them.

For now, though, I'd like to share with the Grandma's Briefs readers a few of the lessons I learned from Paola that day, some profound, some personal.

1. Grandmothers can — and do — change the world. We grandmas know we're a powerful force in our families, but the grandmothers who share their amazing stories in Grandmother Power make a difference far beyond the borders of their families and inspire us all to do the same. In Guatemala, grandmothers fight for human rights. In South Africa, grandmothers run afterschool programs for orphaned youngsters. In India, grandmothers learned solar engineering and brought light to their villages. Those are just a small fraction of examples, a small taste of what a difference grandmothers make across the globe.

2. Grandmother activists have different issues yet the same goal. Though grandmothers across the globe face challenges unique to their cultures, those wanting to make a change agree on one thing. "The one universal was their observation of our troubled world and the conclusion that this world just plain was not good enough for their grandchildren," Paola said.

3. My camera can do great things. Paola uses the same model DSLR camera as I do for the glorious photos that fill her books. Photos such as these from her slideshow presentation that I took with my camera that's just like her camera:

4. Grandmothers who have long upheld "bad traditions" hold the power to end such traditions. A prime example is the female genital mutilations performed in Senegal, often at the hands of the grandmothers. Once grandmothers learned how the long-time practice impacted their granddaughters to devastating degrees and often contributed to their deaths, the grandmothers joined together to become the most instrumental and successful of all who tried before to facilitate abandonment of the horrific practice.

5. I'm not heroic — and that's okay. Like the grandmothers above, what many of the grandmother activists do and accomplish floors me, makes me realize I could never manage the grand and noble things they've pulled off. I don't need to, though, Paola points out. "Don't do something that has no bearing on your life or skill set," she says. She suggests taking inventory of your skills and interests then matching that with issues you could impact locally. After perusing the organizations profiled in Paola's book, I'd say my interests and skills are in line with the Storytelling Grandmothers of Argentina who inspire children to read, which has helped literacy rates rise.

A member of the Storytelling Grandmothers shares a story — photo taken of Paola's presentation.

6. Grandmas are award-winning superheroes. Inspired by his own grandmothers, Mohammed Saeed Harib of Dubai created the Freej animated series featuring four grandmother characters. The show immediately caused a sensation in his country and became a runaway hit enjoyed by audiences of all ages. Harib told Paola, "Grandmothers are portrayed in media as somebody about to die or who's ultra sick; that's the storyline of our dramas and soap operas. I get many calls from grandmothers who appreciate that we are showcasing women reciting poetry, solving problems, talking...not showing them as people in wheelchairs about to die."

7. Step aside Lady Gaga: Grandmas can dress flashy, too. There's nothing like an electric dress to grab the attention of an audience and bring joy to all. Paola had hers made here, and it's the perfect complement to her ebullient instruction on the gratitude dance she learned from GrandMothers and GrandOthers in Barrie, Ontario:

8. All grandmothers can be activists. Grandmother activists are simply grandmas working valiantly to make the world a better place for their grandchildren. Making the world better, Paola stresses, includes teaching our grandchildren the important lessons of collaboration, generosity, patience, perseverance and resilience. If you teach such things, I think it's safe to consider yourself a grandma activist — then consider the organizations where you might enjoy taking your grandmother activism a step further.

Today's question:

Of the lessons Paola points out as important to teach our grandchildren — on collaboration, generosity, patience, perseverance, resilience — which do you find easier to teach? Which is more of a challenge?

Photo replay: Grandmother Power

Paola Gianturco and me, after her Grandmother Power presentation — Feb. 8, 2013

For information and to purchase Grandmother Power: A Global Phenomenon, click HERE or on the photo below.

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

A grandmother who made a difference in my life is _____________.

Friday fun: Keep Your Heart Young

I heard this song—this artist, actually—for the very first time yesterday. Where have I been?

I really enjoy this song and thought you might, too. Just a little something sweet and simple for Friday.

Keep Your Heart Young — Brandi Carlile

My grandpa gave me a wheat penny and I kept it in my pocket

Had big plans in my backyard to build me a space rocket

Talked to my brother on a fake CB that I made from a tic-tac box

Packed my snowballs nice and tight and in the middle I put rocks

Don't trade in your tic-tac box for a ball on the end of the chain

And don't go spending grandpa's pennies buying into the game

You gotta keep your heart young

Don't go growin' old before your time has come

You can't take back what you have done

You gotta keep your heart young

Dad took the wheels off of my bike and he pushed me down a hill

But speed got the best of me and I took my first spill

That was back when alcohol was only used on cuts

Stung like hell so I shook my leg and mama said it would give me guts

Don't trade in your tic-tac box for a ball on the end of the chain

And don't go spending grandpa's pennies buying into the game

You gotta keep your heart young

Don't go growing old before your time has come

You can't take back what you have done

You gotta keep your heart young

So take a picture of the one you love and put it in a locket

Go dig up your time capsule and the blueprints for your rocket

Keep in touch on a fake CB and that same old tic-tac box

Pack your snowballs a little less tight but in the middle still put rocks

And keep your heart young

Don't go growing old before your time has come

You can't take back what you have done

You gotta keep your heart young


You gotta keep your heart young

Sometimes you don't die quick

Just like you wished you'd done

The love is a loaded gun

You've gotta keep your heart young

You can't take back what you have done

You gotta keep your heart young

# # #

Today's question:

What's one of your treasured memories of your grandfather?

Bringing out the best

I have been married a long time. With more than 30 years under our shared belt, my husband and I have seen the best of times, the worst of times, the best in each other, and the worst in each other.

I must admit—as anyone who has been in a long-term relationship might—that not only has my better half seen me at my worst, he's occasionally been the one to bring out the worst in me.

Not a pretty thing to admit about the man I've promised to love until my dying breath, I know.

My husband's not alone, though. My daughters have done a pretty good job of bringing out the worst in me over the years, too. If you have kids, and especially if you have gone through or are in the throes of the teen years, you know darn well how very bad the "worst" in a mom can be.

Regardless, I still love my husband and my daughters. Unquestionably, unconditionally. I hope they feel the same about me despite that worst part of me they've coaxed to the surface now and again. There's something comforting in knowing I can show my very worst side to the ones I love without fear of abandonment.

There's something equally comforting, though, in knowing there are a few souls to whom I don't show that unsavory side, the loved ones who bring out not the worst but the very best in me.

I'm talking, of course, about my grandsons.

My grandsons have magical powers, I believe, for when I'm with them, I am my best, I do my best.

When I'm with my grandsons, I don't demand they be on my time as I'm wont to do with anyone—with everyone—else. No, we move on their time, live by their schedule. 

When I'm with my grandsons, I laugh more, sing more, dance more.

And I swear far less, for reasons needing no explanation.

When I'm with my grandsons, I look on the bright side more often than not. Perhaps that's because all things are indeed brighter when we're together, regardless of the side one may look at.

When I'm with my grandsons, I cook more often, and usually without complaining—even if they complain about what I've set before them, as finicky kiddos often do.

When I'm with my grandsons, I do more crafting and more creating.

I do more reading, too—albeit from books with far more pictures than those I typically read on my own.

When I'm with my grandsons, I do more hugging of little bodies and kissing of little heads.

And I don't sigh heavily or act like they're silly when they say they have owies here or there on those little bodies and little heads. Which is a far different response than when hearing the same from those with big bodies. Not a sympathetic nursemaid am I—except when I'm with my grandsons.

When I'm with my grandsons, I move more, sit less. I listen more, preach less. And I model using manners more in hopes of having to point out one's lack of manners less.

As I stop and look back at what I've written above, I see it's a rather lengthy list of ways my grandsons bring out my best. And as I consider it, I realize this: I should show the same face, have the same demeanor with others. Whether it's my husband, my daughters, distressing relatives, frustrating strangers. I should be my best with all, not just reserve the best of myself for the privileged two.

So I'll try. I'll try to be my best with and for my husband, my daughters, the world at large. I will do that, I will model that, for my grandsons.

In the end it's just one more way my grandsons bring out my best—or at least the hope and intention of me being exactly that.

Today's question:

Who brings out the best in you?