Rock Me to Sleep

I've been browsing through the book of poetry (my proud garage sale purchase) that I referenced in an earlier post, Half Dollar Humility.  The book is divided into different sections.  For example: Part I: Love & Friendship, Part II: Inspiration, Part III: Patriotism and Heritage, etc. 

Last night, I was reading through the section entitled "Home and Mother."  One poem that caught my eye was "Rock Me to Sleep" by Elizabeth Akers Allen.  As with all poems, this piece can be interpreted in multiple ways.  At its core, however, the poem is a letter written to a mother from her child.  The child is now grown, and the trials and tribulations of adulthood seem to be wearing her down.  She longs for the simplicity and frivolity of her childhood, where all pain could be eased and all sorrows could be soothed with just one motherly embrace. 

A mother's love is a very powerful thing-- it starts before she's even seen her child, and it only grows exponentially from there.  I know not everyone is as blessed as I am.  There are individuals who have no mother, or perhaps for some reason they have a strained relationship with their mother.  Granted, my relationship with my mother hasn't always been perfect (I admit, I was a teenage nightmare...  and also, is any mother-daughter relationship perfect??).  But I'm happy to say that I'm very close with her and she's the most wonderful and supportive mother a girl could have :)  My mother is always thinking of my sisters and me, and she's always praying for us.  She's never hesitant to help her daughters, and she loves us unconditionally.  That's really all you can ask of a mother, isn't it?  And in the end, the only thing that one should expect from a mother is unconditional love.  My mother has never wanted anything for me and my sisters but peace and happiness.  She's only wanted us to know love and joy, nothing more, nothing less.

I thought of her when I was reading "Rock Me to Sleep" last night.  If you want, you can read the entire poem here (it's a bit lengthy, but worth reading).  The stanza that stood out the most was the fourth:

Over my heart, in the days that are flown,

No love like mother-love ever has shone;

No other worship abides and endures,—

Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:

None like a mother can charm away pain

From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.

Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;—

Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!


This stanza truly defines a mother's love -- there is nothing like it in the world.  A mother's love lasts forever.  It is faithful, unselfish, and patient.  As much as I pride myself on trying to be independent and strong, I would be nothing without my mother.  There are days that go by when I think I've got life all figured out.  And it just takes one bad day to make me realize how much I miss my mom...  A mother is a woman's eternal best friend, and mine is always willing to listen to any gripes I have, or offer her advice for any obstacle I encounter.  I sent this poem to my mom today-- an excellent vehicle for expressing my appreciation for her mother-love.  She responded with this:

"awww...lump in the throat...thanks for sharing, m'ija. Loving mothers are pretty special :) I'm grateful I have mine.  kind of on the same note...i rec'd a text from amanda the night before she started her new job..."it's nights like these when I wish I still lived with my mommy"--sometimes, when life is making you crazy, nothing can take the place of your 'mommy.'  I will always be here for you, Melanie Lynne! God bless you."

That sums it up.  Nothing can take the place of your mommy. 
 
 
 
Side note: My sisters and I generally make a point to refrain from calling our mother 'mommy...' that was simply a cutesie text from my sister.  We're not 'that family.'

In Perfect Harmony

I'm in Frankenmuth this weekend for a wedding. The wedding took place yesterday (a beautiful wedding - the marriage of my best friend Stephanie to a wonderful man named Matthew). Today is Saturday and it's a gorgeous day to be touring Frankenmuth. You know the saying "you don't know what you've got till it's gone?" That saying rings true for me when I visit Frankenmuth. I don't travel back here nearly enough-- and my mom will back me up on that.

My sister (who still lives in the area) went camping this weekend and my mom is out of town today. Which leaves me to entertain myself all day. Luckily, Frankenmuth is the Land of 1,000 Festivals, so there always seems to be something happening in town. Today I left my mom's house, and within minutes saw plenty of tents set up around town. There is an art/craft show here this weekend, so I browsed through it for a while. Then I crossed the street and shopped for a while in the quaint (overpriced) shops of the Riverplace. Didn't buy anything, because I didn't need a personalized keychain, a riverboat tour, or a pound of fudge (though the chocolatey breezes were horribly tempting). I opted to walk back to my car.

Walking past the Bavarian Inn Restaurant on Main St, I passed Fischer Platz, where Linda Lee and Wild Bill were entertaining Hofbrau-sipping patrons with some good old polka music. Most people were drinking, eating, laughing, and clapping along as they sat under umbrellas, seeking shelter from the harsh midday sun. Howeer, one couple (appearing to be approximately 80 years young) took to the dance floor. The tall chap and his tiny little wife were spinning and 1-2-3-ing their way around the makeshift dance floor as though they were the only two people in Frankenmuth. I noticed them dancing and stopped to watch... for the duration of 3 entire songs! As a former resident of Frankenmuth, I admit to having scoffed at pedestrians who stopped to watch the local entertainment; I would rather have been caught dead than be caught watching some Bavarian Inn entertainment. And yet, here I was, awed at this couple showing off their mad (and well-rehearsed) polka skills.

It wasn't just the dancing. It was the way they moved with one another. Don't worry, I'm not getting lewd. On the contrary, I'm actually getting a bit sentimental. Mr. and Mrs. Polka were dancing in perfect harmony, all the while looking at one another. Not once did they look at their feet, nor did they look at their surroundings. To this couple, it was very clear that the only thing that mattered was being with their other half and spending time doing something that they both (clearly) loved. This seemed like a fabulous match... had probably been going strong since the beginning of time. This man completed this woman, and this woman completed this man. Yes, this was love.

So I popped in to the Platz, ordered some French fries (the only vegan option on the menu) and a water, grabbed some brat sauce to dip my fries in, and sat down at an unfortunate umbrella-less table to watch Mr. and Mrs. Polka and their perfect harmony out on the dance floor.

Sure enough, no sooner had I ordered my food and taken a seat than the dancing couple also decided to sit down. Not only that, but Linda Lee and Wild Bill ended up taking a 20-min break as soon as I sat down. No matter, it allowed me time to sit down and blog about the couple.

Granted, I'd only just witnessed a few minutes of them dancing, but this couple looked as though they had it all figured out.  What young woman doesn't dream of having someone like Mr. Polka -- someone with whom she can do the things she loves, and together do them so well that strangers are unable to walk by without staring?  Someone with whom she will move in perfect harmony for decades to come?  Someone to whom she can cling when the rest of the world seems to be spinning?  Mr. and Mrs. Polka knew love, and they were displaying it for all of Michigan's Little Bavaria.

I'd made decent progress on my fries and brat sauce (and in perfect Lanie style, splattered some bright red brat sauce right across my lap... in white shorts, of course) and the ice in my water glass had succumbed to the brilliant rays of the sun when Linda Lee and Wild Bill took to the stage again.  They once more entertained the crowds, she on her accordion and he on his fiddle... the perfect setting in which to be writing.  I was smiling to myself, waiting impatiently to see Mr. and Mrs. Polka command the dance floor once more after their brief intermission, and to my dismay, a group of preteen Little Leaguers (in town for some tournament, no doubt) rushed the dance floor in an attempt to Macarena to a traditional Polish polka.  So much for romance.

And there you have it: the diverse world we live in.  From lovestruck dancers to rhythm-less Little Leaguers, our world is a wonderful place.  And our world wouldn't be nearly as interesting without the variety we have.  The song of the human race is a unique melody indeed.  Not always in perfect accord, but a beautiful song nonetheless, once we find our harmony.  Harmony is an amazing thing-- something that humans will spend their lives searching for, yet very rarely will it be found in its purest form.  Here's hoping you find love, peace, and perfect harmony in all you do :)

Lessons from Harper

My dog's name is Harper; she's a Lab/ Great Pyrenees mix, according to the vet. She has two spare toes on her 2 back legs, and they dangle off the sides as if they don't necessarily belong there. What's the point? I don't know. Anyway, apparently that's a distinguishing feature of a Great Pyrenees. Here I have a picture of Harper (to the left) and a picture of a Lab/ Great Pyrenees I found online (above). Though I'll never know for sure exactly what my dog is (I adopted her from a shelter), I'll agree with the vet.

I can't generalize for all dogs, but I know this of my own canis lupus familiaris: some of life's greatest lessons can be learned from your four-legged friend. Harper causes me more pleasure and pain (often within seconds of one another) than any other living creature possibly could. She sleeps in a wire crate in the basement (her "house," as I call it-- and she sprints to said house when I ask her to... she loves it). To us, it may seem like solitary confinement, yes, but Harper loves it-- it's her home. And as much as she adores her little jailhouse, she's even more ecstatic to greet me in the morning when I open the door to let her out. Never in my life have I experienced another living thing who was so excited to see me (and it's like this every day-- she never tires of this routine!). There is no doubt in my mind that, if she could, she would jump up, wrap her paws around me, and give me a five-minute hug every morning. And a million kisses. Yes, she loves me that much. Why? Because she can.

So I release her from her jail-- she bounds up the stairs, then back down to meet me halfway (I'm not scaling them quickly enough, I suppose), then back up the stairs. I let her outside, she does her "business," and she comes back into the house. She then waits, pressed tightly in the corner between the wall and the front door, as I pour a cup of food in her dish. She watches me intently, waiting for the "go" command. I tell her "okay," and she leaps to her food dish and gobbles it down-- this is one of the best parts of her day. The dog eats the very same thing, every day, twice a day, and it never gets old-- it is consistently one of the most amazing elements in her life.

What does she do all day? She stares out the window, naps, and occasionally chews on a squeaky toy, a partially-dissected/once-stuffed animal, or her Kong-- and she's perfectly content. Well... she used to be content. Until a couple weeks ago, when she started eating everything in sight. Business cards, bills, socks, lightbulbs (yes, whole glass lightbulbs), currency (I've lost $25 cash to her appetite), wallets, and credit cards... she is an expensive canine. Every time I see her eating my money (literally chewing up my funds), I scold her. And this makes her very sad; she heads into the corner and refuses to look at me. Give it two minutes, and she'll be right by my side again, trying to get as close to me as possible. Because she loves me unconditionally.

My dog has four loves in her life: her "house," humans, food, and exercise. A while ago, I taught her to retrieve my running shoes and leash upon command. Lately, she does pretty well with bringing the leash; however, she gets so excited about the idea of going for a run that she brings not only my running shoes, but also my mom's shoes, random magazines, gloves, hats, my phone, my purse, her food dish... you get the picture. I may have created a monster here. Regardless, it's refreshing to witness this infinite enthusiasm for exercise.

See? We can learn so much from our canine counterparts. What has Miss Harper taught us today?

1) Home is, in fact, where the heart is. It may feel exhilarating to get out and experience life, but you will always find absolute comfort in your home. Though perhaps from the outside, your home may seem small and insignificant, it is nonetheless home.

2) Be thankful for the simple things in life. It's safe to say that many of us have had "nothing to wear," or perhaps we've had to eat "the same crap every day." Enjoy what you've got. Odds are, you're more fortunate than billions of other people in the world. My poor dog eats the same serving of the same food every day, and is still thrilled by life. We should only be so lucky to feel the same way about the things we've got.

3) Take a nap when you can. It's something our teachers tried to instill in us in kindergarten... somehow along the way, our teachers/ professors/ bosses ceased planning our days around naptime. It's obvious, though, that it relieves stress. So give it a shot. I would vote for daily naps at work.

4) Get out and exercise-- and enjoy it! If we're healthy enough to be able to walk/run around outside, we should. We have this beautiful Earth, and we should be out enjoying it. You should get so pumped about the fact that you're able to enjoy the great outdoors that you can't figure out where to start to get ready. Don't go tearing your house up/ throwing magazines and pillows around/ tossing all your flatware in the bathtub (the human equivalent to what my dog does)-- just get excited about going for a walk. Simple.

5) Find your true family/ friends and love them unconditionally. We're human; we find ourselves in altercations from time to time. But things blow over. Usually, these quarrels are over small, insignificant things. Move along and concentrate on what truly matters. Forgive and forget (Harper's great at that). These people will always be important to you; if they're true friends and family, you'll always be important to them as well. You don't want to lose that.

To me, having a dog is experiencing pure joy in all that life has to offer. When I realize I'm worrying too much about little things or failing to live life to the fullest, I look at Harper and take note. It's true: the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.