I haven't been feeling the love in our household these days. Running here. Running there. We probably even saw a person (or two) in their underwear.
It's time for #OperationFebruary.
I cut out hearts. I put them into a bowl, some with writing on them. Some hearts say, "You are special to me." Others say, "I believe in you", which is a family favorite. Others are left blank where someone can express gratitude for an act of kindness, behavior or any other love fest they see another member commit in the course of the day.
I hung homeade, red "envelopes" marked with each family member's name. Nothing fancy; just stapled sides, with a slot at the top for the hearts to enter their new home. These artful wonders are taped to our dining room chandelier, so we won't have opportunity to forget that Operation February is serious business.
Each day in February, someone can help raise the love vibration in our home through these cut-out pieces of paper. Although they're just words, they're so much more. As we all know, sticks and stones can break bones, AND words can hurt.
#OperationFebruary aims to bring back love in our home, where it belongs. Words of kindness. Words that help another feel esteem and joy. I will post back as to how we are all faring.
Care to join us this February? It's never too late to start, because we all can use a dose of love!
Growing up, I remember my father would tell us to stop watching the "boob tube". Can anyone else relate to this comment? Television was supposed to be the demise of our society. On a radio show, someone recently asked what happened to the "good 'ole days", where families would sit around watching television together. What was once the judgement of yesteryear, some are now craving the simplicity of once was.
Will this be the experience of today's generation when it comes to technology use? Everywhere we turn, there are opportunities to be plugged in, and just when we think we have a handle on what's happening, there's new technology waiting right around the corner.
National Public Radio (NPR) published an Apple generated story about a near 14 year old boy that appears to be disconnected from his family as they are celebrating the Holidays. I won't spoil the "ending" since the clip is shared at the end of this post. What I'm sure we all can ascertain is television, iPhones, iPads, personal computers and all other technology yet to be discovered, are here to stay. This is how the vast majority of today's teens choose to connect (and stay connected) in the world.
When my oldest was a toddler, he loved Superman. He would dress in a cape laden with red, blue and yellow and run around the house jumping from couch to couch. Instead of missing out on what consumed most of his day, I bought a large book all about this super hero. There we were, reading all about him. Superman swoops down from a building just in time to save the world. Superman defends himself from numerous rockets. Superman even flies into the sunrise. And there I was, watching the engrossed eyes of my son, as he soaked in every word. By connecting with him without judgement, the love between us flowed even more.
Yes, there can be limits in our homes around technology use. I've made a conscious decision to refrain from use when our family is all together in the evening. What's missing is the opportunity to join and learn from the younger generation; how they think and interact with technology may build some forms of intimacy and connection that are not in our scope of practice. Today I will use the experience of Superman and apply it to my children's thirst for technology. I promise not to yell, "Get off the boob tube, or iPod!" and first see how I can join them in their world of wonder.
Maybe, if I'm lucky, our family will create our own version of an iPhone Holiday.
As time passes, I seem to be appreciating life's simple pleasures, taking nothing for granted. Today marks one of those days, as I wake up realizing it's my father's birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad! I've written before about his health "opportunity" when he had heart surgery nearly two years ago. Since his operation, I believe he is a walking miracle.
Like many who have faced mortality in such a profound way, he is here. My father is alive and well, and he seems to be enjoying his final days/months/years on this planet. Yes, he shows signs of aging, as many do in their second half of life. Yet, I have witnessed a spark in his step when he spends time with his youngest granddaughter. It appears she came here to remind him about gratitude, silliness, and most importantly, love. When she visits, my niece takes her "Papa" on a walk; she in her Snow White costume, stretching her hand up to meet his. This littlest of beings, with her hand soft and smooth, holding all that the future holds; my father, with his wrinkled, yet strong fingered hand to meet hers.
Through my niece, I get to catch a glimpse into the feelings I know my father experienced when I was three years old. I remember sitting on my mom's lap, as she rocked me in her rocker. We'd look out the big bay window, waiting for his car to pull up in the drive. "Daddy's home!" I would yell, running to the front door to greet him. I don't remember anything more except the big smile he had as his big arms wrapped me in the biggest, warmest embrace.
The cycle of life shows in this grandfather/granddaughter connection. I hope my father continues to dance right on out into the wild blue yonder on his birthday, and every day he shares himself with his granddaughter, myself, and anyone else that's lucky enough to be part of his dance.
