Women's History Month

Growing up I remember being asked the question from a variety of sources, “Who do you look up to?”, and even then I was a little mystified. And yet, although I realized that there was no specific role models that existed in my mind in that sense, I didn’t ever really bother to take the time to dig deeper, or investigate what that could mean to me; to HAVE someone I really looked up to, maybe like a mentor, perhaps as someone I really desired and aspired to be like. There were times through the years when I was faced with this question that my mind would drift towards Oprah, but I would quickly dismiss it as cliché and perhaps just an easy answer.

I just simply don’t recall EVER having anyone, even more specifically, a woman, that I looked up to in this sense. We didn’t ever discuss anything close to celebrating Women’s History Month, and I certainly didn’t realize there were even such occasions back then! In fact, the majority of my life I have either had more friends of the opposite sex, or, as now, simply spent more time in the company of myself; so for really examining the relationships of women in my life, my grandmothers, etc., it has really never been in the forefront of my mind.

Being completely honest, my thoughts on many things have been transformed, or altered over the past year. This would include the relationship with other women; something I have lacked understanding in the value of. I am learning, slowly. I can see it, and am beginning to realize the necessity that actually exists in having a friend or “sister” (of course mother, but I am speaking in the sense of relating to any other woman).

As I look back now, of course I can see that one of the women, one of the most important women, that played a role in my life was my mom. They do say, in the ever popular cliché, that a new bond begins between a mother and daughter, when the daughter becomes a mother herself! But going many years before that, as a young girl I looked up to my mom. I remember being proud, even bragging at times, of having a young mom in comparison to some of my friends; and of course adding that she was pretty! As I grew, amidst the chaos that often exists between moms and their daughters, I still was able to acknowledge the strength that my mom had; dealing with my dad and yet being able to not only go to college, but to excel at the top of her class, only then to move on to working quite successfully for a large company. She had two kids, one of which, ahem, was horrible to deal with, and yet she managed to do not only what was necessary, but she was able to build for herself the life that she truly wanted and deserved. I can certainly say that my mom has taught me many things, whether she is able to see it or not. She has shown me what strength, courage and dedication are all about. Her journey, in so many ways, was/is the lantern that lights my own path.

Laura Ingalls Wilder. How could I have ever forgotten her influence on me from such a young age?! I was captivated by her books, the Little House on the Prairie series and many others. She WAS the “hero” of my childhood in comparison to the other “super heroes” that the kids were into. Laura was the strong, brave and determined girl that grew into an amazingly brilliant woman. I drank in every word of each new dilemma that was faced throughout her life; every new town, the storms, the illnesses. Everything that happened within her family was only a small obstacle in the whole picture of the love and dedication that was shared within that circle.

Oprah. Well, I can now easily admit that I do look up to her. She not only accepted and acknowledged the horrible things in her early life, she absolutely rose above. Above and beyond that personal achievement, she has and continues to do so many wonderful things around the world. The financial and otherwise opportunities that she has provided pale in comparison to the inspiration that she has provided to so many people. She has opened the hearts and minds of an immeasurable amount of people worldwide; she has shown us what it means to give, to receive and to truly live and love in our lives.

There is another woman that I think of now, in this context of great women, empowering women, strong women; I will call her D. She was my boss for a few years, but I also have thought of her as a friend and a teacher. I admire her in so many ways. In the short time that I spent with her, she was the one that seemed to pull the blinders off of my eyes. She brought back to life many things I had touched lightly on throughout my life, but she presented them to me perfectly, exactly as I needed, when I needed. She has shown her own strength in so many ways during her life, and she is truly an example, in my eyes, as to how we could live our lives purely; she makes living our true life, walking our ultimate path look simple!

With this newly opened mind, I could perhaps add a few more women to this little list; my sisters, my grandmothers, my BFF and a couple more well-known names; but I think I have said enough for now!

Women’s History Month…who are some of the women that you look up to and admire for their courage and strengths?

My Little Friend

Halloween is over, but after reading this post  on a blog I follow, I was compelled to share my own experience of a little “friend” in the house!

I lived in an old house until I was 7 years old. It was the kind of house where amazing adventures and mysteries took place, were discovered and imagined. It was also very creepy; the scary basement that I rarely stepped into and the attic rooms we were not allowed to enter. There were always spiders, big ones, little ones, and beetles! Ugh!! Even back then I had vivid nightmares of being trapped in the attic with all of these creepy crawly things surrounding me! My bed would shake a little sometimes, and one night I went downstairs to tell my dad; his response was that it was only the train. Of course! How could it not be the train that was several very large blocks away from our house! I also had an “imaginary friend” named Miranda who lived in the house. She was a little blonde girl, older than I was by a couple of years. We would play and talk together; even my parents witnessed me having conversations with her. We had a lot of fun, and I cannot remember ever feeling scared by her.

As I grew, I saw her less and less; by the time I was 7 years old and we were moving down the street, she was virtually non-existent. I remembered her and would think of her, but I don’t recall seeing her. Shortly after we moved, I was woken one night by crying; I could hear what sounded like a little girl whimpering. Curiousity led me out of my room to peek into my younger brother’s room where I thought I would find him having a bad dream, but it wasn’t coming from there. There wasn’t a tv or radio on; my parents were both asleep and it hadn’t come from our cats or dog either.

But I knew what it was. Miranda had come to check on me, to be sure that I was safe before she left me forever.

I never forgot about Miranda, and had no shame in sharing our story with friends. I knew she was not a made-up, imaginary play friend, she was a real little girl that I was lucky enough to see. I always had the sense that something had happened to her, which I guess explains why she was there, she was stuck.

9 years later, when I was 16, I was re-united my second oldest sister; we had not spoken or seen each other since she left home when I was about 3 years old. I quickly learned that my friend Miranda, had also been my sisters friend. She had the same name, same blonde hair and we shared similar experiences with her. Our older sister had witnessed her sitting up in bed at night, talking and playing with Miranda. Miranda would also shake my sisters bed; ha ha ha dad, so much for your train explanation!

Although we didn’t grow up together, my older sister and I have always been very similar in our personalities and characteristics. I imagine that is why Miranda chose to reveal herself to the both of us and no one else in our family. She knew that we WOULD see her, and I guess she felt comfortable and safe with us.

Over the years I have experienced little signs or glimpses of spirits, but nothing like what I experienced with Miranda. I think of her and our time together quite often actually. It is a little mystery that I hope to one day know more about; who she was and what happened that left her stuck in that house. My sister and I have our theories of course, but as of yet been unable to actually learn anything. Perhaps we never will.