With this attitude of awesomeness, friends and acquaintances ask me about why I don’t do this or that.  Well, I am stopped in some cases by little childhood traumas.  My stories usually start with, “Well, I was traumatized when…”

I do hope to overcome not my fears, but my very valid concerns, to once again take up activities that gave me pleasure or could in the future.  In the meantime, for reference, I find it might be helpful to list a few of the things I don’t do until that beautiful day, when I can do them.

Why I don’t…

Mountain Bike
I was a late bloomer when it came to learning to ride a bike, but after my dad finally accomplished what then seemed impossible and taught me to ride a bike, I was always on it.   My parents decided to take me to the mountains so I could bike on some of the easy roads.  I think I was about nine or ten years of age.  Tender youth.  Mistake number one was one my dad admits to – we overfilled my tires.  Mistake number two was underestimating the decline on the road.  My parents got in their truck and were going to lead me down the road.  So, I see the truck start to move forward, and I get on my bike.  Truck picks up a little speed, and the bike does to without any effort.  Then, all I remember is seeing dust behind the truck in front of me, and a blur where the pedals usually are.  I couldn’t catch a pedal, so my legs were in the air.  Speaking of air, I had so much coming at me that I can hardly breathe, but between gasps I started screaming for Mom and Dad to stop and save me.  We reached the end of the road, the truck stopped, and I jumped off my bike to the ground.  I was furious.  I started yelling at my parents for foresaking me.  Mom looked surprised, and Dad said they had no idea I needed help.  I said,

“Didn’t you hear me screaming?”

Mom replied, “We thought you were singing!”

“The ‘Mom, Dad, Stop, I’m Going to Die’ song?!?!?”

More than being scared, I was offended that my parents thought my vocal talents were on par with hoarse screaming.  I could have died that day.

Go to the Zoo
Oh yes, they’re pretty and exotic, but some peacocks are pure evil. 

Let me start by explaining that I was raised on a racehorse training facility that had all manner of animals, not just thoroughbreds and quarter horses.  I was a very small child when this happened, but I remember it as if it ’twas yesterday. 

Dad was building a chicken coop, and I was supervising the project.  He was hammering nails.  It was a sunny day.  Dad was wearing a white “work” t-shirt and had just turned to focus on hitting the next nail on the head when…

WHOMP

I felt a huge weight on my shoulders…literally.  I looked at my shoulder and saw a huge claw.  Then came shooting pain in my forehead.  Next thing I remember is being swept up by Dad and he ran into the house.  What had happened (explained to me later) was that a forocious monster of a male peacock known for chasing people without reason (other than his evil inclination to do so) landed on my shoulders and started pecking my forehead.   

Dad sat me on the counter and began to use his shirt as a compress.  I don’t remember pain at all, but facial wounds spurt out a lot of blood.  The sight of the blood, Dad trying to fix the problem and obviously failing (my conclusion because I was seeing blood), had me screaming “MOM!!!” 

Nowadays, when I am dragged to the zoo, I show no interest in the peacocks.  When I see one, I may take a few steps back.  Peacocks are always just everywhere at zoos, so if the zoo lets them run free I am out.  No Sunday at the zoo for me, thanks.  I could have died that day. 

Go Horseback Riding (with a Dog)
The thought of riding a horse with your best friend trotting beside you is a wonderful thought, right?  Well, I’m about to tell you how it can go horribly wrong.

I was a small child on the ranch.  There was a horse named Ernie (see I remember these details so I know they happened).  One of my childhood friends came over and we begged to go riding.  So Dad takes me and my buddy to ride Ernie on the race track.  Just a walk, Dad leading the horse. 

Dad had a white German Shepherd who was a nipper.  Ernie was spirited.  Race track dirt is deep and includes multiple soils to make it “cushy.”  Do I even need to tell the story?  So, Dad is both training Ernie and the dog to BEHAVE.  Well, needless to say, the dog starts nipping at the horse, the horse bucks us off.  My friend is fine but I go head first into the track.  I remember flight, and then an immediate feeling of darkness and suffocation.  Before I can think, I feel Dad’s arms wrap around my waist and tug.  Takes effort but I am pulled out.  Mom is there already.  I  have sand packed in my mouth, up my nostrils and in my eyes, so I was spitting, snorting and blinking like crazy.  Once she realizes I am completely fine, she starts laughing to tears.  Tears of relief, possibly.  But I’m sure the fact that I played an ostrich in real life had something to do with the humor effect.  It took days to get the sand out.  It was in my pores.  I could have died that day.

Ski
The last time I went skiing I believe was before I entered kindergarten at age four.  I remember feeling cold, hearing crunchy noises and seeing lots of knees.  No mom.  Mom wasn’t the one that took me. I had no childhood friends yet, and I was excruciatingly shy.  Now at, uh, my age,  I just have this feeling that I will be left on the side of a mountain by myself, scooting down on my bum for at least half a day.  Less a feeling than a prediction.  Skiing before kindergarten without Mom?  I could have died that day.  If there would have been a peacock there – certain death. 

In closing, I better start trying some of the above things before my future kids ask me to take them.  I’ll be outed for sure if I try taking a gun into the free-range peacock exhibit.  What from the above list should I try first?  I think I’ll try swimming.

“It has that thing – the imagination, and the feeling of happy excitement- I knew when I was a kid.”
–Walt Disney

My grandfather loved the Jungle Cruise.  Mom said that he got a “kick out of it.”  I could sense that as we waited in a relatively short line (by Disney standards) for an old and original ride, she went back, just a moment, and he was there with us, anticipating climbing on board.

Most families have Disney moments.  That trip to Disneyland with magical memories.  For me and my mom, it’s not a tag line or a commercial.  We make our way back to Disney to reconnect with simple pleasures.  The feeling of being a kid, where anything is possible.

We wonder why anyone in their right mind would take CHILDREN to DISNEYLAND?  Poor parents with strollers and heat and screaming and expense and lines.  Being adults gives the advantage of weaving in and out of crowds, forsaking argument for fun and choosing to eat a pickle for lunch instead of waiting in line for an actual meal.  That pickle was amazing by the way, I regret nothing of paying $3 for it.  Delicious.

Mom remembers going to Disneyland as a kid, way before I was even a thought in her head.  It was fun and exciting!  The first time she took me, I was six years old.  I remember colors, colors in water, the pool at the hotel and then…the trauma.  I was scared to death of the characters.  I  remember knowing that there were people in the costumes, but that didn’t really result in rational thought or behavior for me.  Mom took not only me, but my older friend, two years my senior, who I bothered relentlessly.   She, on the other hand, loved characters and had her autograph book ready.  So, when a character came into view, she shot in one direction and I shot in the other.  This drove Mom nuts, because my friend was running up to a character far away and I was hiding behind the nearest trash can.  How we didn’t get lost is a testament to my Mom.  Now, I don’t why Mom thought it was a good idea.  Maybe it was easier, I don’t know.  But she decided to take me to hell.  The Disneyland Character Breakfast!  I was just about to eat the biggest, most delicious stack of pancakes, and then…I saw him, heading our way.  Goofy.  My heart started racing.  I told Mom and my friend to be quiet and I ducked under the table.  The I heard it.  The sound of betrayal.

“She’s under the table.”

All I saw was a flash of plastic whiskers.  I don’t remember anything after that.  Mom said I screamed.  So, this first trip showed that my mom and I were different kids.  Mom was a calmer kid, apparently, and I was a bit sheltered, a little spoiled perhaps.

Three years later, second trip included Dad.  I had the stomach flu.  We lost the car one time, and Mom and I lost Dad many times, but he kept popping back up with ice cream.  Dad was vacationing from health that trip, which resulted in me and mom getting on him about eating too much ice cream, and then me complaining about my stomach, and it was tough.  But, Dad wasn’t a Daddy Downer after all because we took him to the opening of Toon Town.  We decided to check out Chip N’ Dale Treehouse…of Horrors!  We were immediately pushed into a line soon realized was meant only for small children.  Then the stairs somehow became narrower at the top.  We were told to slide down the tube slide.  First me.  Whoosh.  Then came Mom.  Whoosh.  Then we waited.  And waited.  Did Dad already come out and go find ice cream?  Then we started hearing voices from inside the treehouse and they seemed perturbed.  Then we saw them – boots.  Cowboy boots, no less, slowly inching their way down the slide.  Inch by excruciatingly slow inch, grunt by grunt, Dad finally emerged.  I think Mom and I just stood there with our mouths slightly open in shock.  No need to explain we weren’t from California.  That was a true magical memory.  If you say “treehouse” Mom and I burst into hysterical laughter to this day.  If you say “character breakfast”, only Mom does.

Mom and I went back in 2005 to mark the 50 year anniversary of the park’s opening.  Going as adults was the best! Sure, a child’s imagination lit on fire through real encounters is a great thing to behold…yes…but, I am a huge Walt Disney fan, so thinking about the grand opening of the park from a historical perspective and what it has meant to our family was a wonderful experience as an adult.  We were free to do what we wanted when we wanted without the fear of losing people!

This past trip, just a few weeks ago, Mom and I went back to Disneyland because we needed some old fashioned happy.  Work and stress and all the responsibilities of being an adult take their toll.  Mom turned into a kid.  Laughing and screaming.  She actually clapped her hands using only her palms after riding Big Thunder Mountain Railroad.  I was jumping up and down saying, “Omigod, omigod, omigod!”  I pulled her into the 45 minute wait for California Screamin.  She screamed, I laughed.  Our picture showed me covering my eyes laughing and her looking like the Bride of Frankenstein (her words) from the hairspray overuse.

As I prepare for a trip home, I know that Grandma would have been worried.  She hated planes.  Was in only one once her entire life, but that was enough.  She was afraid of me driving, of me flying, of me being far away, of all the bad people.  I know that once I would walk in her house, her smile would be one of relief as well as happiness to see to me.

The last words I spoke to Grandma were that I loved her, and not to worry about me.  Those were always my parting words to Grandma.

“Paying respects” is too cold-sounding of a term for this trip, because I love her so much.

Grandma grew in a time and place where women were not educated, but charged with building homes.  The life this woman had is remarkable, and her strength seems unfathomable.  Without her determination and endurance, I wouldn’t exist.  She not only gave me my roots, but she kept our family together, reminded us of where we all came from, and that remembrance builds character.   I believe her strength may be a inheritable trait.  My aunts are tough as nails.  My sister and I don’t fear adventure even though Dad keeps telling us to get our butts back home.  When tough times have come, there is this inner strength I can only credit to the Holy Spirit and my family.

Grandma was a very intelligent woman with common sense and wit.  She was funny.  I remember sitting with her in the cab of her truck when she and my grandpa would sell molding at the flea market, and we would give me advice on career and love.  Her words made sense to me, and she always reminded me of my worth.

She prided herself on her cooking, even after she couldn’t anymore.  She tried to teach me to roll tortillas.  I might have gotten some of her stubbornness, but not her coordination.

Even though some may feel contrary, I believe my grandmother lived a complex life, not easily understood.  At least in this granddaughter’s eyes.  On one hand she never left home.  She worried about all of us.  And even though she conceded that times had changed, she still wanted me to have a husband to take care of me now and children to take care of me when I got old.  Then, on the other hand, she was orphaned at two years old.  She lived a hard life in which she worked constantly to build a family.  In that respect, she knew women were capable of handling difficulty.  I know she wanted for me, what she had found.  A man dedicated to her completely.  My grandfather is the only one I have known, and in his quiet way, he loved her so much that it made her life sweeter, complete.

She prayed for me every night.  And her prayers and her example helped get me through college.  Even though she won’t see me one day get married, or she won’t hold my children, she saw me graduate college with honors.  She appreciated how hard I worked, and she loved seeing pictures of places I have been.  She would point to my new home and say, “Everything’s so pretty there.”

Now Grandma is finally home, and she finally gets to experience how incredibly beautiful everything is.  An experience I cannot even imagine.  I’m excited for her.  She loved pretty things.  She must be ecstatic right now.

She has no worries for me.  I have such loss in my heart, because I know I won’t see that smile, I won’t get to talk to her about work, about men, about the past and the future.  But I carry her with me, and am comforted in believing that she will see me get married, have children, roll the perfect tortilla, and tell my children about where they came from.  From blood, tears, love, strength and a deep understanding of the unconquerable soul.

On this Father’s Day, I will pay tribute to my dad my publishing some of his words of wisdom to all my readers.  So for you, and the other person who reads my blog.

Now, my father has lived an incredible life so far, full of trials, humor, grief, success, love, friendship, service, learning and transformation.  I am so proud to be my father’s child, that I talk about him quite frequently.  This post in no way can convey who my father is and how I revere him, so I will just post some little phrases that Dad has spoken, and hope they serve you as they continue to serve me.  Repitition is the God of wisdom, right? 

Life lesson:  Honor your parents.  Never forget where you came from and respect your upbringing.  The world is full of experiences and new responsibilties, from work to travel, to raising our own families.  We all are short on time and as we grow into adults, we become consumed with moving up in our careers and leading our own lives.  While this is expected, we cannot forget about our parents.  We must cherish who they are and what they do for us today, not just in the past.

“I didn’t raise you just so you could leave.”

Life lesson:  Although making lemonade out of lemons is a common way of looking on the bright side, we must develop and utilize our strengths, not complain about our weeknesses.  We all have talents, and using our talents and developing our skills will bring success.  The best ingredients make the best dishes, and the same goes with our accomplishments. 

“You can’t make chicken soup out of chicken shit.”

Life lesson:  Don’t be so negative.

“Don’t be so negative.”

Life lesson:  Appreciate what you have!  When thinking about material things we must always take stock of what really matters and really appreciate the gifts we are given.  Constant attainment of material goods will not bring us happiness.  True entertainment comes from creativity, imagination and making the best of what you have.

“You know what toys I had as a kid?  I had two, two by fours.  That’s what I played with.”

Life lesson:  Life is confusing for people.  It always will be.  Becoming upset with confusion is pointless.  We must have faith in God, as He knows our path, and we can find our true self only by serving  Him.  He knows what is best for us, and He is watching us always.  We are safe under His grace.  We must trust in God always.

“Drop kick me Jesus, through the goal posts of life.”

Life lesson:  Language ties us to our heritage.  It allows us to converse with people in speech and through culture.  This allows deeper levels of communication and not knowing the language of your family is allowing yourself to be left in the dark in conversation and not taking the gift given by our ancestors.  It can also lead to being lost in rural areas, not attaining the popular vote in any future political campaigns, and looking stupid period.  Learn Spanish. 

*Insert rant about needing to learn Spanish in Spanish with wild hand gestures here* 

Life lesson:  Everything takes a bit of strategy.  You can’t just hope for the best and go for it.  Think about it, visualize it, and execute the strategy.  Works in life, works in basketball.

“It’s all in the wrist.”

Life lesson:  There’s no place like home.

“But THIS is the Land of ENCHANTMENT.”

Life lesson:  Work hard with a kind heart and people will follow by example.  Yelling with a closed mind will get you absolutely nowhere.  People may fear you, people may do what you advise out of this sense of fear, but respect is not attained through this form of “leadership.”  A true leader is a servant of the people.  A good listener.  Someone generous and caring.  A strong sense of right and wrong coupled with a caring disposition.  Words mean nothing without action as evidence to support those words.  Lead by example.  Your example comes from being a follower of Christ.  People do not always understand by hearing, you must prove yourself.

“You don’t demand respect, you earn it.”