Enough Said

Enough Said
A sampling of my columns and why the hell is my picture SO big?

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Facebook, the great connector (original title)

Reunited after 40 years: Facebook, the great connector

Published 02/27/2014 12:00 AM
Updated 02/25/2014 01:05 PM

When my kids were in college they talked about a new social network called Facebook. They were enamored by it. To me it seemed kind of intrusive and a bit hedonistic. I thought Facebook would be a lot like an early marriage-infatuation, passion and maybe even a little obsession. And that eventually it would go the way of Myspace and recalling what's-his-name on the marriage license. But it didn't wither, it didn't die, it didn't dissolve into an online memory, it got bigger. It got so big, that the private little college system of communication expanded exponentially.

I don't think that in the beginning the kids ever thought that 10 years later they'd be Facebooking their parents and liking it. I certainly know my kids didn't think that.

My husband hates Facebook. Like other folks strapped to landlines and envelopes he thinks Facebook is like a 12-year-old jimmying the lock on his big sister's diary: What's in there is stupid, of no interest and who cares anyway? I have friends who think that going on Facebook is akin to listening at their kid's bedroom door for conversations about everything they are trying to hide from their parents.
"It's their world and I want no part of it," they say. I understand that because I used to think that way but not anymore.

A few years back, one daughter was mortified because I considered joining Facebook and the other daughter thought the whole idea was great, so I did what I had to do and signed up. I felt like a senior citizen sitting in the front row of a Pink concert. I was intimidated by the youthful process, didn't understand what was going on and felt totally out of place. I dropped out and went back to my homepage where I was comfortable looking up my daily horoscope. Fast-forward a couple of years, I got a new laptop, made the papers and gained enough courage and a little information and went back on Facebook, this time with the blessing of both my kids. Our Facebook worlds have mingled somewhat but I'm still so clueless that I'm very careful when making comments, liking and friending.

Early last year I did a search for a friend I knew 40 years ago. She was an amazing singer and I was a songwriter. We were sister-close and lost touch when I opened a small manufacturing company and she moved back to the Midwest. Her name is not unusual so searches prior to Facebook were fruitless. My friend is a few years older than me so I thought even though there's no way both of us would have the nerve to join a social network started by toddlers and run by teenagers, I'd give it a try. It took a year until I saw her name pop up in my Facebook inbox.

We messaged each other a few times but catching up became an on-the-fly sort of thing. So I called.
We talked as if there had been no 40 years between us. It was wonderful.

The Facebook connection taught me that even though we may travel different paths, the one we once shared is sustainable. Though my friend and I have lived very different lives we share a time when youth and all its promises of dreams fulfilled was real. She may never win a Grammy and I may never win a Pulitzer but years ago when we talked about such things nothing was beyond our grasp. Though now the probability wanes, the possibility does not. I found a long-ago friend. I never thought the possibility of that would happen and because of Facebook it did. Enough said.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Babies are all about change and not just as in diapers (original title)

Babies are all about change 

Published 02/13/2014 12:00 AM
Updated 02/10/2014 01:06 PM

I am wandering the house fluffing pillows that don't need fluffing and straightening a stack of magazines which looks like a perfect block in the center of the coffee table. I emptied the dishwasher and stacked it full again. I'm fidgeting. I'm doing the non-important stuff because the really important life-changing future-affirming stuff is going on right now in a hospital - my daughter is in labor. I feel as if I am waiting for a houseful of guests to arrive. Everything is set, everything is in perfect order - all we need is for the birthday girl to be born.

My husband and I will be first-time grandparents and we are over the moon in love with a little girl not yet here. Everyone tells me how magical grandchildren are and I can't wait for the enchantment to begin.
I worry about my daughter and her husband and the newest member of our family traveling the path of birth. It can be rough but oh so sweet. What they are going through takes me back to my own birthing experiences. They say women forget what it is we go through when we give birth. I don't think so. Women have a way of putting things like getting married, giving birth and passing a watermelon in perspective, the reward far outweighs the effort.

What amazing things will this little girl see in her lifetime? I wonder how far into the future she will take our DNA? Looking forward to the mystery of expectation is what babies are all about. They are about change, too, not just as in diapers, but as in life. They get you to step outside of yourself.
I am hoping that the relationship I will have with this little nugget as she grows up will not be diluted by the challenges of my age. The reality of me being born during the late '40s of the last century has me realizing that there is a lot about this little girl's life I will miss. I will love her as my grandparents loved me, unconditionally, unrestrained by mom and dad rules, and with a heart filled to overflowing with adoration, simply because she exists.

I wish a lot for this little one not yet born. I wish her health, humor and prosperity. I wish her love, tons and tons of love. I want her to be strong against all forces which may choose to limit her dreams, and that includes her parents who may think they know what's best for her and me, a person still struggling with what's best for myself. This little girl has no limits, the world and time awaits her.

Sydney Francis Murphy was born about 10:26 p.m. on Jan. 17, weighing 9 pounds, 1½ ounces. She and mom are OK, just a few speed bumps. My daughter was, and continues to be amazing, my son-in-law is the model-dad of the baby-unit and little Syd is the most beautiful baby ever. Really she is, and I'm not just saying that because she is my granddaughter.

I cannot even describe the thoughts that flooded my mind when I saw my daughter's daughter for the first time. That moment connected me to all the women in my family who came before us, all the women who did exactly what I did. I looked into the tiny eyes of a newborn and saw the broad spectrum of a future I will never see and felt joy, because I know she will. Her parents gave her life, we gave her a past on which to build that life. Welcome home baby, welcome home. No way would this ever be, enough said.