Pass the tissues please....

I'm an embarrassment to the family generally but my current state of "quick to cry over everything" never helps. Chip pats my shoulder, resigned to the sniffling beside him. The girls "oh, mom" me. Happy crying, sentimental crying, fearful crying, sympathetic crying....feeling frustrated, unappreciated, wistful.....Kleenex commercials, very special episodes of ER, old songs, baptisms, weddings and orphans of any species. I've always been a crier and reveled in it. When I was very little I would watch a show called "The Littlest Hobo" about a dog on the move. Every week he'd have to press on after some heroic deed that was misinterpreted by the bad men...a homeless Lassie if you will....and I would cry for him each time. My parents would say maybe I shouldn't watch. But I love to happy cry. And Sunday was a treat...a new occasion to add to my collection of events that require tissues. Confirmation of our beloved Leanny.

She's been in our lives for about seven years and is my and Chip's M-F breakfast companion while our daughter gets ready. She has a second breakfast and we fight over the funnies. It's the third daughter we wanted without the college tuition. We don't know what we'd do without her. Her mom says I get all the good stuff. And that's true. No limit setting, no curfew sweating, no screaming, no money or tears shed....she costs me two boxes of granola bars a month and I get all the love I need. A bargain at twice the price. Well done to you, Leanne and to all your friends.

Any fourteen year old who has the ability to focus on two years of confirmation classes amidst daily critical hair and wardrobe decisions is already ahead in the game of life. It was a massive class of 30-35 kids and the pastor's lesson was simple. Foundations built on rock last longer than those built on sand. What I liked to tumble around in my head was his reference to the Leaning Tower of Pisa as an example of poor foundations as relates to faith. Having just visited Pisa and knowing they have done a lot of restoration to shore it up, it does remain standing after seven hundred years-ish. Even with a shallow foundation in marshy land and sitting "off plumb" (my new personal motto), what I got from that little talk was a little spiritual maintenance now and then can stabilize a substantial lean toward decadence. I'm almost positive that was not the message he was trying to convey, but I'm jaded and like to be rebellious. Being a bit of a Leaning Tower gives one freedom to make a choice to topple and rebuild or to restore before falling. A little dodgy philosophy but infinitely more interesting to me than the solid and square lighthouse on the rock. I want to waver and question and wonder and take stock of where my feet are planted and whether they need to move occasionally.