Diamonds in the Rough

We build who we are each moment at a time. Every thought we have translates into an action even if it is inaction. Each action we take becomes a decision. Each decision we make helps shape our character. Our character will define what kind of life we will lead. The type of life we lead will cement how we effect our world. How we effect world will distinctly specify how it is we are remembered. How do you want to be remembered?

I find myself often thinking about the end result first and the best course of action second. I have found this method to be the most successful in my dealings. Quite often we meander, we linger without direction and purpose in life and to those that continue to do that regularly I would ask, "How often do you get in your car with no idea of where you want to go?"
‎"How many times have you packed a bag and driven to the airport with no idea of where you are going, no trip planned and no ticket purchased?" 'Why should the rest of our lives be any different then our travel plans?" "How can we expect to have our goals and accomplishments realized with out a carefully laid plan?" Granted while we can not control everything, we can develop a course of action that will assist us as a map to reach what ever our promise land may be. We can put into place safety guards for incidentals and unexpected derailments. Most importantly we can enlist the assistance of others who will be there to support and guide us along our journey.
Life doesn't offer a dress rehearsal, you get one ticket to your life. Choose how you live it carefully. Treat the people God has placed in your life like the fragile gifts that they are. Unlike milk none of us has an expiration date stamped on our tummy. We never know how or when the people we love will be taken from us. Value the time you are given because it is the most precious gift you will ever have bestowed upon you.

It was a hot Summer day in August. I was so excited to go to Nanny and Poppy's apartment because I love spending time with my Poppy. Nanny was on a plane to California to see Great Aunt Ruby and Great Aunt Mavis. It was a gift from Poppy for her birthday.
We were supposed to be painting the apartment with him. He wanted to surprise her when she got home because she had been asking him to do it for a while. When Poppy realized how hot it was going to be that day he gave my dad some money and told him to take us to the beach.
It was the most wonderful day. You see my dad didn't do stuff with us often. Most of the time he was too busy or couldn't be bothered and it was just us kids with my mom. It was the first time I can remember us ever doing anything as a family. We went on the board walk got pizza and cheese fries. When we got home the phone was ringing. Mom and Dad were still getting my brother Al and my sister Jen in the house so I was the first one to answer the phone. It was my Aunt Adriane, my father's sister, she was hysterically crying and kept saying put mommy and daddy on the phone. Dad got on the phone and he soon started to cry. My Poppy had a heart attack that afternoon not long after we left. I was told years later he had gotten to a phone and dialed 911. The day that was one of the greatest days of my life also became the saddest because my Poppy passed away. For a long time my aunts and father all blamed themselves for not being there. Everything in life has purpose. Poppy was a proud man and it was probably for the best that his family only saw him as a strong person and not in his hour of need.
Till this very day every one in my family misses my grandfather, Poppy. He was a strong man, very guarded to the outside world but he loved his family dearly.  He taught me about politics, art, music and culture and the most important thing of all, not to take my life or my freedom for granted. While he had no more then an eight grade education he was a wise, cultured man and well rounded in his knowledge. He was always learning, always experiencing new things to try to better himself and his family meant the world to him.

So many people in this world never think about who it is that they want to be in their lives. What they want to get out of their experiences while they are here. They waste their time, energy and emotion on things that are of no value to them in the long run.
As a society we allow ourselves to be repressed by religion, government and the media. We let those entities tell us who to be, how we should think and we allow them to often define our lives. If we stopped for just one moment and left all of the presidential elections, coca cola commercials and religious ideologies behind and were left to our own devices; What is it that we would do? Who is it that you would want to be?
I used to think that I needed to do something amazing in this world in order to make a difference.  That anything less then spectacular would be considered mediocre by most standards. As I have progressed through my life I have learned the value of making a small difference in some one's life.
In 2003 I became a mother. It was the most unbelievable and eye opening experience I have had in my life thus far. My daughter Guinevere opened my heart and my mind to so many new ideas. My opinion never mattered so much to any one before. Having a child is like ripping off a piece of your heart and allowing it to run around naked outside your chest. My capacity to love has grown so much in the six almost seven years since Guinevere was born. She inspires me to want to be a better person. She has made me a better daughter to my parents if only because I now know how they have felt my whole life. While things are not perfect.
There are times when we argue and fight but my family loves me. They are the only people who will be there to support me no matter what I go through. They will forgive me and care for me no matter how I act.
I guess my point is that you can decide how you want to relate to this world. I have always stated that while you can not control what happens to you, you can control how you respond to it.
So often in life we spend so much time wandering we never see the diamond mines we have at home.

 Acres of Diamonds

Old African Proverb

An African farmer had becomequite bored with his life and the rocky soil he had chosen to till.
He had read that diamonds were being discovered in abundance and the idea of finding millions of dollars worth of diamonds got him so excited that he sold his farm and headed out.
He wandered all over the African continent; the years slipped by as he searched for the diamonds and wealth that he never found.
Meanwhile, the new owner of his farm picked up an unusual looking rock about the size of a country egg and put it on his mantle as a sort of curiosity. A visitor stopped by and told the
new owner of the farm that the funny looking rock on his mantle was just about the biggest diamond that had ever been found. The owner of the property told him that “. . .the whole
farm is covered with them – I’ve been kicking them out from under my mule.”
With that the new owner of the property sold many of the diamonds and used his profit to benefit the small town. When the prior owner returned home broke and tired he saw that the new owner of his farm had become a rich king.

Never go in search of the world's riches until you have explored your own back yard.

Importance

Jayme Lin Rose

In the positions that I have held, in the home that I once dwelled, in the car that I once drove, no meaning do these things hold

In the grace that I once gave, my helping hand did save, important these things are, not my home, my money, nor my car

Never Your Average Joe

A few years ago when I had just become a mother I spent a lot of time in AOL chat rooms (Seems like forever ago). Since Guine was so small going to bars and meeting people wasn't an option. I started seeing a computer programmer from central New Jersey named Bruce. After him and I had started dating I met Joe in the same chat room. I was sold the concept that Bruce and I  had a future together but I really liked talking to Joe. I agreed to meet Joe for drinks.
Joe is a politically incorrect, mans man. He likes his wings hot and his beer cold and back then I didn't know how to handle a guy like that. I was all about my independence and being heard as a woman (RAWR!). We agreed at some point in the beginning of our relationship that it would be simply a casual thing. It worked for me because I really like Bruce and thought of him as potential life partner material. Joe lived local so when I didn't want to drive the forty minutes to see Bruce or if Bruce was busy I could call Joe.
Eventually both the relationships dissipated and I moved on with my life. Recently Joe and I got back in touch through AOL again. I hadn't logged into my AIM messenger for years. Mostly because I was engaged and I had also found other online forms of communication that are easier to use. I only logged in because I joined a dating site and one of the guys who was interested in me asked me to chat via AOL.
Joe immed me unsure of whether or not I would remember him. Of course I did, the sex between the two of us was always amazing. Joe was always great in the bed room. He commanded presence, knew what he wanted and how he wanted it. Our online chatting went on back and forth for about three weeks. We kept missing one another until he finally caught me at my computer one day and asked me to meet him for drinks. At first I was a little hesitant with meeting up with Joe. I am at a point in my life where random casual dates that often lead to sexual encounters just are not what I consider to be my bread and butter of dating or relationships. As much as I kept putting off meeting Joe for drinks, he persisted. I after our first meet I did let him know I hoped things might be different this time around. He started making excuses about his ex-fiance' how he wasn't over her and I quickly retorted, "Joe I didn't ask for a ring I was just hoping you would take me out to eat every once in a while before we have sex." He laughed and I think my humor and lack of any real expectation from him was what he needed to hear.
Joe is a prominent business man in a neighboring community from my own. His family has been part of the local community for generations. His work is definitely his mistress if not his wife. He is rough and edgy. He speaks his mind without fear of reprisal and he is completely unorthodox in his thinking. I love the fact that while he often says things that would piss most people off in mixed company, he is his own person. He even calls himself a douche bag which I find hysterical. He knows that he makes people angry with how he acts and what he says but he doesn't care. It is a large part of what draws me to him.
This world is filled with J.Crew and Abercrombie boys that are cookie cutter morons. They follow socially acceptable trends closer then paparazzi follows Lindsay Lohan after she has just gotten out of a rehab clinic. Guys like that make me sick. They are the general populous that exists in the United States and the sole reason that women like me are still single.
Joe is different. He is old school. His tan is from working outside not from sitting his ass on some beach in a speedo. His body is toned and fit not because he works out in some gym six days a week but because he does hard labor for his business. He has this pair of ripped shorts that he loves because they fit just right and he doesn't care how they look to others. He smokes cigarettes and drinks regular beer which these days is considered uncultured by the upper echelone of society, but he could give a fuck less. He was raised right in the fact he holds the door for me, he carries anything heavy I need help with and I never have to worry about paying for anything. I want for nothing when I am with him. As a modern woman I shamefully admit that I love that side of him. I love feeling like I am safe and taken care of and that I don't have to worry about a god damn thing.
He is the kind of man that wouldn't hesitate to kick some one ass or at least try to if they got out of line no matter the situation. He keeps his feelings hidden which makes the fact that he is now opening up to me so much more meaningful. He makes me laugh uncontrolably when we are together. His humor is a staple in his personality. And while sex isn't always gentle and it certainly doesn't look like a love scene in a romantic comedy, his passion is real and amazing. I never feel self conscience about my body or fear that he will judge my imperfections when we are together. His confidence and enthusiasm make me feel at easy no matter where we are or what we are doing.
Where as when we dated prior I felt like an option to him and he was an option for me; now it feels very different.
He keeps in constant communication with me even though it's only been a short time we have been talking again. He is affectionate in public where he wasn't prior. Now he is sharing his life stories with me when before if I asked a question he felt was too personal he would simply reply, "What are you writing a book?" Sad part is if he said that now I could answer yes where as I could not back then.
Yesterday we agreed to meet up for dinner and an evening at a nice hotel. He told me he would pick me up around four o'clock pm. I put my cell phone on silent so I could take a nap. He called me around two pm because he wanted to pick me up early. From two pm to four pm he called nineteen times and sent eight text messages. This is not the same Joe I knew five years ago. He was seriously worried about me. I am not used to that level of concern from most men and I surely didn't expect it from Joe. He cuddles, he holds my hand even if I don't reach out for his. He is open and loving and while I am not quite sure what has changed nor do I care, it is a wonderful difference.
I have no clue where things will lead this time but to be honest I don't care either. Any time he gives me I enjoy. I am really grateful that we reconnected and that things are contrary to how they were prior. Regardless both ways he was never your average Joe.

St. Peter at the Gate
by Joseph Bert Smiley

St. Peter stood guard at the golden gate
With a solemn mien and air sedate.
When up to the top of the golden stair
A man and a woman ascending there.
Applied for admission, they came and stood
Before St. Peter, so great and good.
In hopes the City of Peace to win –
And asked St. Peter to let them in.

The woman was tall, and lank and thin,
With a scraggy beard-let upon her chin.
The man was short and thick and stout,
His stomach was built so it rounded out.
His face was pleasant and all the while
He wore a kindly and genial smile.
The choirs in the distance the echoes woke,
And the man kept still while the woman spoke:

“O, thou who guards the gate,” said she,
“We two come hither beseeching thee
To let us enter the heavenly land
And play our harps with the angel band.
Of me, St. Peter, there is no doubt,
There is nothing from heaven to bar me out.
I’ve been to meeting three times a week,
And almost always I’d rise to speak.

“I’ve told the sinners about the day
When they’d repent of their evil way.
I’ve told my neighbors — I’ve told them all –
‘Bout Adam and Eve and the primal fall.
I’ve shown them what they’d have to do
If they’d pass in with the chosen few.
I’ve marked their path of duty clear –
Laid out the plan for their whole career.

“I’ve talked and talked to ‘em loud and long,
For my lungs are good and my voice is strong.
So, good St. Peter, you will clearly see
The gate of heaven is open for me.
But my old man, I regret to say,
Hasn’t walked in exactly the narrow way;
He smokes and he swears, and grave faults he’s got,
And I don’t know whether he’ll pass or not.

“He never would pray with an earnest vim,
Or go to revival, or join in a hymn.
So I had to leave him in sorrow there
While I, with the chosen, united in prayer.
He ate what the pantry chanced to afford,
While I, in my purity, sang to the lord.
And if cucumbers were all he got,
It’s a chance if he merited them or not.

“But oh, St. Peter, I love him so,
To the pleasures of heaven please let him go.
I’ve done enough — a saint I’ve been,
Won’t that atone? Can’t you let him in?
By my grim gospel, I know ’tis so
That the unrepentant must fry below;
But isn’t there some way you can see
That he may enter whose dear to me?

“It’s a narrow gospel by which I pray,
But the chosen expect to find some way
Of coaxing, or fooling, or bribing you,
So that their relations can amble through.
And say, St. Peter, it seems to me
This gate isn’t kept as it ought to be.
You ought to stand right by the opening there,
And never sit down in that easy chair.

“And say, St. Peter, my sight is dimmed,
But I don’t like the way your whiskers are trimmed;
They’re cut too wide, and outward toss,
They’d look better narrow, cut straight across.
Well, we must be going our crown to win.
So open, St. Peter, and we’ll pass in!”

St. Peter sat quiet, and stroked his staff,
But in spite of his office he had to laugh,
Then said, with a fiery gleam in his eye,
“Who’s tending this gateway — you or I?”
Then he arose in his stature tall,
And pressed a button upon the wall.
And said to an imp, who answered the bell,
“Escort this lady around to hell.”

The man stood still as a piece of stone –
Stood sadly, gloomily there alone.
A life-long settled idea he had
That his wife was good and he was bad.
He thought, if the woman went down below,
That he would certainly have to go –
That if she went to the regions dim,
There wasn’t a ghost of a show for him.

Slowly he turned, by habit bent,
To follow wherever the woman went.
St. Peter, standing in duty there,
Observed that the top of his head was bare.
He called the gentleman back, and said,
“Friend, how long have you been wed?”
“Thirty years ” (with a weary sigh),
And then he thoughtfully added, “Why? ”

St. Peter was silent. With head bent down,
He raised his hand and scratched his crown.
Then seeming a different thought to take,
Slowly, half to himself, he spake:
“Thirty years with that woman there?
No wonder the man hasn’t any hair!
Swearing is wicked, smoking not good,
He smoked and swore — I should think he would,
Thirty years with that tongue so sharp!
Ho! Angel Gabriel! Give him a harp.
A jeweled harp with a golden string!
Good sir, pass in where the angels sing!

Gabriel, give him a seat alone –
One with a cushion — up near the throne.
Call up some angels to play their best,
Let him enjoy the music and rest!
See that on finest ambrosia he feeds,
He’s had about all the hell he needs.
It isn’t just hardly the thing to do,
To roast him on earth and the future too.”

They gave him a harp with golden strings,
A glittering robe and a pair of wings,
And he said, as he entered the Realm of Day,
“Well, this beats cucumbers, any way.”
And so, the scripture had come to pass,
That “the last shall be first and the first shall be last.”