Dear Girlfriends,

What are the secrets to living an honorable life? The advice is endless. You can read about them in books or in magazines. You can watch the discussions on Oprah. You can go to a psychologist, hire a coach, or learn about them online. You can even chime in on the topic on blogs, like mine. But have you ever seen what the attributes of an honorable life look like?

On December 7, 2007, I fell in love for the first time in 18 years, and I fell hard. Tears flooded my eyes and my mind raced as I looked upon the precious face of my first grandchild, Ava, and considered all she would behold in her lifetime and the important lessons she would learn. My role as her grandmother (I'm coaching her to call me Sugar) seemed a daunting one as I considered all my grandmother had been to me: my teacher; my playmate; my confidant; my spiritual advisor; my role model. How would I compare to the greatest Mammaw of all time? (But don't call me Mammaw - I'm way too hip.)

For the next several weeks after Ava's birth, I kept a list of the things that I hoped she would see in her lifetime. Although the list is long, it doesn't include Disney World, Miley Cyrus, or the shoe department at Niemen's. No. My list includes intangibles; intangibles that due to a change in our social fabric, our busy family lifestyles, or our lack of mindfulness or creativity, we fail to model for our children and grandchildren. And, unfortunately, due to the fact that many of us were raised in not-so-perfect households, these are some of the same intangibles that were not modeled for us. 

So what are some of the things on my list that I want Ava to see?

Timeless Honor
Selfless Devotion
Genuine Respect
Work/life Balance
Considerate Inclusion
Meaningful Traditions
Mindful Appreciation
Working Friendships
Marriage Partnerships
Successful Divorce

Successful divorce? Yep. There's a lesson here for all of us.

Because children are always watching (and because teenagers never listen), we know for a fact that our actions speak louder than words. So let's begin the important discussion as to how we, as sisters, aunts, godmothers, mothers, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers, can model an honorable life for our next generation.

Standing in some very big Mammaw shoes,
Ellen, a.k.a. Sugar

Posted by Ellen on May 21, 2008 11:32 AM  |  Category: What Does It Look Like?

Dear Girlfriend,

Lying by omission. Skirting the rules. Shirking our responsibilities. Failing to admit fault. These are only a very few of the more benign characteristics of a disgraceful life we have seen modeled for us. The list is long and gets ugly, and it has become mostly acceptable in today's society. So acceptable that unfortunately many of us have modeled these negative traits to our own children and grandchildren. Disgrace - yes, we've seen it. But honor? Do we know what it looks like?

At a conference last summer, I heard General Colin Powell speak about his concern for our country and our role on the world stage. As he discussed this topic and other societal issues, he said that bringing dishonor to his family was not an option. He and his cousins were raised with the concept that disgrace is not a personal thing - it's a family matter. This got me thinking: how do you instill the concept of honor in a child?

Over the years you've read about the struggles we've experienced with our son, Scott. I can be honest after 27 years of denial. Disgrace pretty much sums up his situation - a pathological liar, a methamphetamine addict, a manipulator. Today, he's working hard to overcome his challenges but as for the concept of honor, I don't think he has a clue. On the flip side. . .

Our daughter Shauna was born a truth-teller. I would just crack up at the things she would volunteer; at the innocent age of three, she would "fess up" just to get those sins off her chest! She was born a person of integrity; but I didn't teach her that, any more than I taught Scott to lie. I can no more take credit for the honorable life and high moral standards our daughter lives by than I can shoulder the blame for our son's failure to live by a code of ethics. So did I miss something in my own personal modeling and explanations of expectation when it comes to honor? I think maybe I did.

You see, I know exactly what honor looks like. Honor sat at the dining room table with me celebrating his 80^th birthday last month. There, in flesh and blood, was a man of profound integrity. My second cousin Jerry, and his wife of 56 years, have lived a life of such dignity that I was literally bursting with pride at the mere thought of being related to them. And let me tell you, their living example of a life without compromise has worked - you should meet their two sons, their spouses, and their grandchildren; absolutely amazing people, and children, of character. But this isn't an anomaly; the two preceding generations of the Wilson family lived equally honorable lives. I think that we should turn the whole clan into a lab test so we can study them in order to repeat this success of generations of exceptional human beings. Do you know a family like this? If so, you know what I'm talking about. This is not the rule in our society today, but the rare exception.

So . . . back to the rest of us. How do we, who were not modeled an honorable life or have made grievous mistakes, right the wrongs for our next generation? I would like to propose an equal balance of family pride and shame. Let's start with the unpopular topic of shame.

Shame is a feeling that some generations of our society will have no concept of. A word so ugly we have purged it from our vocabulary. A tool in building a life of character that has been buried for the sake of building Susie's self-esteem. Sure, you can shame someone to the point of damaging her self-confidence or psyche. But have we gone overboard? Have we failed to define and explain honor because the opposite - the teaching tool of shame - is out of vogue?

In lieu of shame, my parents indulged me with a glossy version of high-level scolding so as to not damage my self-esteem. And as my parents modeled for me, I, along with millions of other mothers of my generation, continued this same example of forfeiting the discussion of shame - both personal and family - for the building of our children's confidence.

On the flip slide of shame is a sense of family pride. And this is what I believe my cousins Jerry and Betty have probably modeled and taught - that we have an obligation to our family and out of that obligation comes a desire to be a person of distinction; a person who lives above the fray.

So as I think about my granddaughter Ava and what I want her to see - I want her to see what honor looks like. I can't right my past wrongs, but I can sure be mindful of my examples and teachings today. I will assist her parents as they balance the teaching of shame with stories of generations of honorable ancestors. We will model for her that a life of honor is developed one important decision at a time. And following Jerry and Betty's example, Steve and I hope that Ava will feel the same sense of family pride as she, one day, looks across the dining room table at us.
 

Hoping to re-start an old-fashioned trend,
Ellen, a.k.a. Sugar

Posted by Ellen on May 29, 2008 10:07 AM  |  Category: What Does It Look Like?

Dear Girlfriends, 

A few weeks ago my sleep-deprived daughter, sporting spit-up on her blouse, looked me straight in the eye and said, "No one told me it was going to be this hard." I just looked at her and blinked. The "no one" she was referring to was me. Uh-oh.

After she left I basked in my self-pride of making motherhood and selfless devotion look so easy. But then I became confused. Wait . . .how could she not know this is sometimes very hard? Had she not seen selfless devotion for these past 30 years?

Well, of course she had - but like most of us, she didn't know what she was looking at.

Our recognition of selfless devotion is like our relationship with the sun: it comes up every morning without our doing a single thing. We take it for granted, enjoying its light and relishing its warmth. But even though it's a constant in our life, we rarely really "see" it. Only the occasional spectacular sunrise or sunset gets our attention. And we certainly don't appreciate what's going on in the background. Few of us understand the way our solar system hangs together. No, we give little thought to what it takes for Mr. Sunshine to smile on us every day. It's the same with selfless devotion.

My friend BJ didn't know what it looked like, either; not because she took it for granted, but because she had never laid eyes on it. Ever.

When she was a baby, BJ's biological mom gave her to a woman who worked in a bar, who - when BJ was only 15 years old - left BJ alone to raise herself. At the age of 46, prior to a major surgery, BJ began looking for someone to hire to take care of her as she recuperated at home. But a precious friend, who had invited BJ into her family, volunteered her mom, Genny, for the job, insisting that this was the solution to BJ's convalescence needs. Little did BJ know that this would be a close encounter of the selfless kind.

One night, after BJ got up to go to the restroom, she returned to her bed - but the bed was not as she had left it. BJ held her breath; she was in awe. While BJ was up, Genny had quietly crept into her room to straighten her sheets and blankets . . . and Genny had fluffed her pillow. In all her life, BJ had never had anyone fluff her pillows. As BJ told me the story, I could just see this precious little woman padding across the floor to deliver selfless devotion under the cover of night. But unlike the rest of us who have had our pillows fluffed, BJ knew what she was looking at. It was like looking at the sun for the very first time.

I know that many of you, my girlfriends, are young mothers who are just learning the ropes - and I'm sure there are days when you're overwhelmed (as we all were). As you sacrifice your physical, material, and emotional needs for those of your child, I hope you will take time to think about and thank your own mom. As imperfect as she might have been, she also sacrificed for you - even if you didn't notice all that was going on in her solar system, behind her eyes . . . and in her heart. There were sacrifices I'm sure she made, even if you didn't know what you were seeing. And so it will be for your child.

Shauna will make mothering look easy; so much so, that Ava probably won't know it's selfless devotion that she's looking at, either. And one day, thirty years from now, Shauna can think of her own good answer when Ava says, "No one told me it was going to be this hard."
 

Fluffing pillows for the next generation,
Ellen, a.k.a. Sugar

Posted by Ellen on June 11, 2008 9:23 AM  |  Category: What Does It Look Like?

Dear Girlfriends,

"Don't use that tone with me, young lady." If there's a female child in your life, and she's talking, there's a good chance you've had the opportunity to use this line. If you haven't - well, clearly she has not yet entered puberty.

Respect. Most of us expect our children to respect us. But can they define it? Do our children know what it means because we've showed them, or because we've simply demanded it?

I define respect as an attitude of gratitude and the discipline of self-control. With the exception of a couple of hormonal outbursts when she was a pre-teen, our daughter Shauna has always been respectful. And now it's my turn to return the favor. You see, genuine respect is a two-way street, and the respect I want Ava to see is the attitude of gratitude I have toward her parents. I had a good role model for this one; I know what it looks like because my Mammaw showed me.

As I've shared with you in previous Truth Nuggets, my Mom struggled with substance abuse as the result of mental illness. As a child I idolized her but as I grew older, her issues became a source of embarrassment for me. By the age of 15, my respect-o-meter had hit an all-time low.

Taking my grievances to my grandmother, I ranted and raved. But not once, not once, in all my years of Mom-bashing would Mammaw join in. My beautiful gray-haired grandmother would quietly listen, and then remind me how much my mother loved me, as she gently turned the conversation to a more positive topic. Mammaw modeled for me that respect is not only something a mother hopes to receive from her child, but is something a mother also returns.

This topic cuts close to the bone for those of you who have been on the receiving end of negative comments made by a parent or an in-law. You know first-hand the pain this inflicts and how confusing it was for your child; how it totally undermines the philosophy of respect. Because you were hurt, you understand this intangible of genuine respect at a gut level, and most likely model it well for the children you influence.

Others, who have not lived through such an experience, might not fully grasp that every word out of their mouth has an impact on the child in their life. Snide comments, hurtful teasing, and unreasonable criticism can paint a picture for a child that their parent is undeserving of their respect. We so often forget that every word said and every tone used is either positive or negative. Nothing is neutral. Especially to a child and regardless of their age.

At the Sugar Pop (which is wherever Sugar and Pop live at the moment), we have begun to model genuine respect for Ava. As we feed her and rock her and play with her, we share with her the many charming characteristics of her Mommy and Daddy. Yes, she's only six months old, but she will learn this one cold: She's a blessed child to have these two awesome human beings as her parents. There will be no mom- or dad-bashing at our house, either.

Learning the ropes of parenting an adult child is not much different from parenting a newborn; it's all trial and error. We make it up as we go along, sometimes without thinking of the greater consequences of our actions. But today, I am thinking. And I'm thinking that what I say or don't say will have a lasting impact on Ava Lynn's understanding of genuine respect. And because I have something good to say, I'm going to take the time to say it.

Respectfully yours,
Ellen, a.k.a. Sugar

Posted by Ellen on June 25, 2008 3:11 PM  |  Category: What Does It Look Like?