MOMMY'S ADVENTURE

Flying in an airplane is normal these days. People talk about it like it's an everyday thing, and it is for a lot of them. But it is not for me. I am generally phobic about the entire procedure. Am I the only one that sits in the little seat, that is far too close to the person next to me, and wishes I was not about to shoot up into the air 55,000 miles above the gravitational pull of the earth? Am I the only one that is sitting rigidly, breathing rapidly, and writing a will in my mind, while the pilot calmly drones, “We have a storm forming above Minneapolis, ladies and gentlemen, so we will have some light to medium turbulence.” I think I would rather give birth, than get on a plane.

I had to retrain my mind when I flew to Alaska last week. Because what was waiting for me up there was a sister I hadn't seen in two years, who owns a beautiful restaurant and health food store, and who lives on the ocean where the sunsets are phenomenal and the silence is Divine. And I have a brother who looks like me and he has a baby that won't be a baby for long, that I hadn't gotten to meet yet. I had put off this trip for too long. So when some family bought me the ticket, who was I to say no?
I told myself, “Shoshannah, it is like driving or boating. Air is just like earth and water. It's safe. If it isn't then why do the stewardesses look so happy?”

So, in my life it just so happens that either nothing will be going on, or it will all be going on at the same time. And it was all happening in the land of Hollon. We were changing lifestyles, locations, and Mommy was leaving the tribe, all at once. When the morning came for me to leave I was a mess. I hugged my big girls and told them that I would see them in a week. Being 9 and 7, they are very understanding about the time frame and the reasoning. But being an almost 3 year old, my little one didn't know exactly what was going on. I hugged her and said, “I love you, Tenesee, Mommy's gotta go bye-bye.” She looked at me and told me that she wanted to go too. “No honey, Mama's got to go by herself, but I'll be right back.” (Yes, we all use this phrase even if it's not technically true.)

“But, Mom,” she tilted her head and chirped up at me with her big brown eyes, “I don't want to lose you.” My heart just melted and my knees got weak. I felt like crying, but I didn't. Instead I told her that of course she wouldn't lose me and that I'd be “right back” to see her. I mumbled a bunch of stuff and then jumped in my truck to drive to the airport in Bismarck.

I sped down the road and couldn't get rid of the lump in my chest. I tried to dance and sing it away, but it remained lodged there, stuck like dry bread. I changed the radio station and Tom Petty sang “Free Fallin” and I let out the tears. There is nothing quite as relieving as a well deserved cry. Now I know why kids do it all of the time. It gets the emotions out of the way and deals with issues you never even knew you had. From that point on I let it all go. They would be fine, I would be fine, Daddy would be fine and this was my adventure!

The first thing I learned at the airport was: Don't ever wear Carhartt overalls! I thought I would wear them because they are like a security blanket to me. If I were to crash into a mountain, I would want to go down in Carhartts! So I went through the metal detector, which makes me feel like an evil criminal anyway, and the buzzer went off! Everyone looked over at me. I turned red and smiled at the gal with the magic metal detector wand thing. She flicked a smile at me, and then said, “Please step over here, ma'am.” I did. She pointed to some foot print outlines painted on the floor, “Please stand right here...oh, unless you would like to do this in private.” She snapped on a latex glove. That's when I wished I had on jeans without brass buckles. Oh well. No one said it would be easy. (And, no, she really didn't need the gloves!)

So I chose to stand there in front of everyone, so I had witnesses to the little frisking action that was happening near gate D3, and take it like a real woman. It all worked out. No cuffs, just a, “Thank you, Ma'am.” For what? For not hiding something in my Carhartts? For not freaking out when you got personal? No problem.

By the time it happened at the next airport, I was ready. I held my arms out and said, "Go for it. I'm just going to think of this like a little massage." She just stared at me and then started to laugh. Thank God for airport bars with happy hour!

I got in late to Anchorage. My sissy and I hugged and jumped around like teenagers. I told her all about the funny things that the girls were saying and how my 9 yr old loves to play spy and take pictures of the neighbors. She told me about our plans for the week, the restaurant, and caught me up good on old town gossip. We slept well after catching an episode of the Dukes of Hazard.

I fell in love all over again with the ocean. I remember my school years walking around the small dirt roads of Seldovia and listening to my walkman and mooning over some teenage boy, or another. I remember watching those sunsets go down and the bitter sweet feeling of wanting it all to last forever. I instantly felt 17 again.....in a good way.

To step away from mommy hood and jump back into the world as Shoshannah, was like shedding my skin. It hurt and it felt so great, all at the same time. Life has a way of preparing you for these situations before you even know what you need. And then, BAM, it happens.

I was fine until the first anxiety attack. It's all good to have tons of time to myself and no questions being asked and no butt to wipe besides my own, but when that's what my profession has been for 10 years, it's frankly hard not to be needed. My hands took to looking for a little hand to hold and I had to busy them with artsy things. I drew some signs for my sissy's restaurant and I took a lot of pictures and I ate the best food in all of Alaska.

We saw a bear. We boated across the bay and watched sea otters. We drove to our brother's house and caught the sweetest smiles from my little nephew. I was ready to kiss baby cheeks, by the time we got there. But at every turn I kept thinking, "Wow, the girls would really love these sea shells and they would be picking these fat blueberries like crazy!"

If life has taught me anything, it is to be here now. It is to relish all of the sweetness I can out of each and every experience. It's to slow down and love each moment, because there really is no tomorrow. The little faces of my children, the way my husband looks at me, the sun going down on the river, and the hot days of September hanging on before the fall slowly creeps in and settles over the mountains frosting the Elderberries.

I got back home after so many little adventures, it would take a book to tell. I pulled up to our little camp on the River and those girls attacked me. We all kissed, hugged, kissed again and everybody was talking at once. I showed them my pictures of Alaska and told them all of my funny stories. They showed me bee stings and rocks they had painted for me. They told me about getting wood in the mountains with Daddy and swimming in the Salmon River. We laughed and cuddled and I watched how grown up they all were and I took pictures in my mind and marked them down as EPIC! I do believe the big girls will always remember the time when Mommy went away to Auntie's for a week. And I think Daddy will, too!

MONEY MAKES THE WASHER GO 'ROUND

The laundry money I'm using today has a story behind it. Everything does. I wish I could trace it back to its origin, follow all of the hands it's gone through, and see what has been made and created with it. See who held it in need, used it to make their dreams reality, and what great shoes were purchased with it. I would be amazed at the intricate loom that weaves us all together.
You cannot tell what a person is like by looking at them. I like to think I can, and I try because it's amusing. It keeps me entertained while killing time, stuck waiting on the tires to be aligned or the taxes to get done. In moments like these I do my best work, much to my husband's amusement.
"She's with him for the money." I say as a couple walks by. He looks double her age and she's checking out the construction worker across the road as her man adjusts his toupee, flashing his $1,000 watch in the sunshine.
"You don't know that." My husband replies, barely looking up from the Classified Adds. "Maybe it's his daughter."
"Nope. The body language is all wrong. Hup! I can see the huge rock on her finger from here. Yeah, she's a gold digger." I reply confidently.
I know it's mean. It's even downright a waste of time, but I love a good story, even if I have to make it up. I like to speculate. I am so in trouble on Judgement day....when I get judged for judging.
Well, the other day I went to Williston North Dakota, to do some shopping. I don't like driving up there, because it's boring. The only trees on the prairie, are the ones that people planted there. It's truck, fields, construction, and oil rigs. So I'd already made up some stories about the guy at the gas station. He was about 100, and he had tattoos all over his body. This guy probably invented the tattoo. He had them before they were cool. He was driving an old rusty truck and I'll bet his real stories would have blown my made up ones clean across the prairie.
We pulled into the parking lot of the "Economart" and my heart began to pound with anticipation. Every lady that I'd met in the last two months, had told me that this place was the best place around to shop. Especially for produce. Apparently Walmart Superstore had nothin' on Economart. (I saw the "Econo-Liquor" sign hanging near the far end of the building. Wow, these people could use some help in the catchy-name-department.
I was like a kid with a brand new pogo stick! I jumped out of the truck, grabbed little sticky kid hands, and streaked towards the entrance, Nascar style. I looked at my beautiful little 2 year old, that had just woken up from a nap and was still trying to put together muddled sentences.
“Oh my gosh, Tenesee!” Her hair was sweaty and matted in all of the wrong directions and her face was covered in strawberry juice! She'd fallen asleep after eating half of the package. She looked like a vampire, that needed a shower. For once, I had no brush, and NO wet wipes. I tried to run my fingers through her hair. No use. Now she looked like Ace Ventura, in a bad way.

We hit the produce section first. It's my favorite part. You can tell everything about a store, by it's fruits and veggies. It's like the business card. Disappointment quickly set in. UGH! $2.99/lb for nectarines?? They were .89 cents/lb in Montana. Head lettuce for $3.50!? Where's the Romaine? Are these women from the same produce planet as me? This is lame. Yes, the quality was there, but the prices were for the company men, not the roughnecks.

This is where I will interject a small disclaimer for the Bakken Oil Reserve. There is a nation wide assumption that we are all rolling in the dough over here. Yes, it's true that they pay well, but the retailers also know this. Housing is astronomical. Try $1,500 to $4,000 a month! The grocery stores know it, too. Food is so cheap in Idaho! I take this for granted while I'm there. Go to the store, right now, and buy a loaf of 7-grain bread for $1,69...because you can, people! It's $3.29 here...on sale! When I get home, I'm headed straight to the store, and I'm going to roll around on the floor, and purr.

I was standing in the fruit section, thinking about all of this, and sniffing an apple that was probably worth $2, when an older gentleman caught my eye. He had poofy, shoulder length white hair and was grinning like Buddha. He crossed over to my cart, passed over the invisible line of personal space, and put his hand on mine.

“I like to help people.” He said. His hand was cool to the touch and was still resting on mine, which was now gripping my cart handle in Mama bear fashion. I subconsciously moved my little cubs behind me and slipped my hand out from under his.

“Do ya?” I replied, wondering what was going through his mind. Was he a creeper or a scammer? I was ready for anything....I thought.

“Yes, I do.” He grinned at Tenesee. “Especially people with little kids. Okay buddy, where are you going with this? I readied my self to make an aloof comment and skedaddle down the aisle. He held out his hand toward me again. There were some $20 bills folded neatly in it. “Here you go,” he said.

“Oh, no! I a can't take that! No, you keep it.” I looked at his eyes and saw a warmth there, that I had missed the first time. I looked at the money. Of course I could use it. Who didn't need more grocery cash? Especially those of us that refuse to live off of Ramen noodles and Kool-aide just because they are cheap.

“No, please, take it. This is what I do. I like to give. Please! It's my blessing.” He pressed it into my hand and looked at the kids and smiled.

“Thank you, so much! That's awesome.” I took the money and thanked him again. Well, what could it hurt? I hadn't met him on Craigslist and he wasn't asking for my bank account number. This was just a nice deed and obviously I should take my 2 yr old to the store more often, looking like a wayward orphan.

He walked away, and I half expected him to disappear. Angels have poofy white hair, you know...and apparently very cool hands. I didn't stop thinking about it all day. I am still thinking about it. It is so easy for us to step across the “that's-so-wierd” barrier and do something nice. Just to do it.

CNN should take a week, or even one day, off of reporting all of the filth and nastiness of mankind, and do some stories on the wonderful and the good! I don't want to know about the evil choices that people make because of a series of bad decisions and events that have taken place in their lives. Rape, murder, and violence should not be the news that is spread around the world at mock speed. I don't watch the news. I skip the headlines on AOL that start out with, “Woman convicted of killing her children.” I will not and absolutely refuse to have it in my mind. It does not exist in my world.

“Well, Shoshannah, it happens. You can't ignore it. It's reality.”

It's not my reality. Imagine what it would be like if the news was all about miraculous wonderful acts of kindness and generosity? What would we be spreading then? Instead of going to work and saying, “Oh, man, did you hear about that wacko in Waco?” We'd be saying, “Hey, did you see that thing on the news about the poofy haired angel guy?”

My mantra for the week is: Love creates more love. The good is ever abundant. What I focus on becomes an intricate part of my make up. I want a good foundation to build on. I don't want rot and decay. There are so many great stories and information to pass around.

From now on, my stories that I make up are going to be about good things. That gold digger lady wasn't a gold digger at all. Her car probably broke down on the way to the nursing home to visit her Mother. The guy she was with picked her up because she was walking in heels and needed a ride. He was looking at his watch because he was late for work. Then he gave her his triple A card, as he dropped her off at the dealership, to get her car worked on. What a nice guy.

There are many ways to "fight" against the negative things in this world. If you want to start a campaign against something, then that is fine. It takes perseverance to make radical change. It takes changing laws and advocating the good to bring about better living conditions. But, I personally think it is very ironic, when I hear about a man that hated abortion so much that he shot the abortion doctor.! Isn't that a bit of an oxymoron? To murder so that no more deaths occur? If you don't like something, don't be part of it. Spend time doing and supporting things that you believe in, not hating people for doing the things that you don't.Maybe that guy should have spent a little more time loving the miracle of birth, creating a family, and raising some beautiful children of his own to make good choices and to enjoy LIFE!

We can curse and scream at the darkness. We can beg, plead, rebuke and pray. "Why is it so dark in here!?" But until we turn on a light...it will never go away. It's simple. It's beautiful. And, wherever you are, produce-section-20$-bill-angel-guy....thanks a lot for the blessing. You just made my laundry day, a whole lot brighter!