What Old People Eat

Have you ever wondered if it really matters if what you eat really has anything to do with living a long life, or if it's just all in the genes? As I have spent a great deal of time, especially over the last several years, being involved in the care of both my mother in law and grandmother-both now 93 years old, watching their eating habits makes me think about this. Two women of different ethnic backgrounds share in this amazing longevity. Is it diet? Are there any connections? My mother in law is Japanese, and my grandmother has an Eastern European background, but indeed, I have obeserved so many similarities in what they include in their diets, that it makes me wonder if it is more than the genes. I'd like to share some of those similarites. Maybe it does make a difference.
Oatmeal- daily. My mother in law (Grandma H.) would eat what she called her unromantic breakfast every day- oatmeal with a teaspoon of sugar and a little powdered milk, a small apple banana, and half of a papaya. My grandmother (Grandma S.) also eats oatmeal daily. She prefers hers made with chicken broth, sometimes in the morning, or as a light dinner, but still daily.
Fish- In general, a Japanese diet includes eating fish frequently. Grandma H. would enjoy her sashimi, but also a variety of other seafood- salmon, butterfish, mahimahi, various small reef fish, and sardines, at least a couple times a week. Grandma S. eats fish every morning for breakfast, especially sardines, but often salmon or white fish.
Pickled vegetables- This seems a bit strange, since picked foods tend to have more sodium than what I would expect to call a health food, but they both included pickled vegetables regularly. For Grandma H. perhaps some namasu (Japanese pickled cucumber) even kim chee ( a Korean pickled cabbage with chili pepper), and for Grandma S., sauerkraut or pickles- and since living in Hawaii, she has also acquired a taste for kim chee, only she adds a little vinegar because she thinks it cuts some of the salt.
Spicy Foods- They both love their garlic- lots of it, and hot spices too- chili pepper, wasabi, horseradish.
Fresh fruit of all types, but most important the banana. Grandma H. especially enjoys mango when its in season. Grandma S. loves when watermelon is in season- with a little feta cheese!
Cabbage, Mushrooms and Onion- Grandma H. always had cabbage, won bok, or mustard cabbage to add to a variety of dishes, as well as shitake mushrooms, onion or green onion. Grandma S. also is a cabbage lover, especially head cabbage and she spent years picking her own mushrooms when she lived in Pensylvania. She has sliced onion every morning with her fish.
Olive Oil- Both know that Olive Oil is a healthy choice, and although they could enjoy spurging on fried foods cooked in not so healthy fats, those foods are special treats, not part of the regular diet.
Starches are an area of difference- the staple for Grandma H. is steamed rice, and for Grandma S. hearty whole grain breads, preferably a bakery multigrain or rye- never soft fluffy bread.
Calcium is also from different sourses mostly because of cultural differences. Grandma H. eats lots of soy products. She doesn't agree with dairy products. the small fish soft bones also are a good sourse of calcium. Grandma S. enjoys dairy products, especially yogurt, which she eats at least several times a week.
So, are these the amazing foods for longevity, or is it the genes? Maybe both! Perhaps a little lesson is here for us to learn to eat like old people!

A Dog for Mom

My children were shocked when I came home from the Humane Society with a 2 year old formerly stray dog, possibly a jack russell beagle mix. Not only that I got a dog, but that I got a house dog. In the past we had big friendly dogs to live outside and protect our home, well as much as big friendly dogs can protect. The children were younger and I didn't want to worry about the dogs hurting them. Also, the dogs were supposed to teach them responsibility. I took care of the kids, and the kids took care of the dogs. Of course having a pet often becomes a chore, and after our last dog died, I was not prepared to have the responsibility of another pet whether it would be their responsibility or mine. So we have been dogless for a few years now. That was a good thing. It was not the time nor did we have the time to care for another dog.
My youngest daughter often begged us for a dog. When we were in the Humane Society neighborhood we would always look- just look. We also would often admire puppies in the pet shops. It gave me time to think that maybe someday I would get a dog, and I would know the right dog when I saw it.
I thought, if I were to get a dog, it would be a small dog that I could enjoy having around the house, but I worried a small dog might be yappy or nippy and nervous. I like animals to be gentle and trainable. I also wanted a dog with a shorter coat that I could keep clean. I had a dog when I was a girl that fit my ideal for size and cuteness, but not really behavior. All I could say is that I may not get a dog today or this year, but I'll know when see the one I will choose.
This is what happened the day I decided to make a quick stop in the Humane Society just to look. There she was, the size, the temperament, the cuteness, sold! I brought her home to the surprise of my daughters. She was for them, but my girls figured out quickly that she was for me!

The girls named her Heidi. She's so fun. I don't think I have enjoyed having a pet so much- Why? I think this time I was ready. I am no longer busy watching young children, but maybe also feeling some of the empty nest since my sons have grown and are now on their own. While dogs don't take the place of my kids, I have been experiencing the kind of excitement of what it was like when my children were at the toddler stage. I find myself laughing so much when I watch my dog play. She is keeping me active, something I need to keep off those middle aged extra pounds. And the unconditional love when I walk in the door, when I call her name to come and when she lets me pet her and scratch her tummy. If ever I was ready for a pet this was the right time, and this was the right dog!

Compassion=Suffering and Anguish

     I never realized how much it hurts to have compassion. While I do not claim to have "seen it all", I feel like I have seen enough- directly and indirectly. I am not sure of "why me" in the grand scale of having certain life experiences and survived; let's just say God has given me a high degree of resilience and survival instinct.  Over time, however, I have been questioning my own resilience.
     Painful experiences can have a way of hardening a person. I think I first noticed this happening to me following when our youngest child was born with a fatal birth defect. I was so concerned about everyone else, and in staying strong for my family, that in the process I became numb.  I couldn't grieve, I couldn't cry anymore, and I thought, thank God for getting me through this.
     New experiences both good and bad with all sorts of opportunity to experience all ranges of emotion came and went. After time, it dawned on me that there was very little emotion left in me. I was a dead person inside of a living soul. I fervently prayed that God would help me to feel again and bring tears back to me once again.
     My prayers were eventually answered, and I remember that moment. I was reading the newspaper, which that days news told of the tragic killings of child hostages by terrorists at a school in Beslan, Russia in 2004. I sobbed in grief, not only my own, but for all those children and their families. It was a turning point and a very different kind of compassion that I had not ever experienced.
     It's not that I was not compassionate before this; to the contrary. I was always extremely sensitive and aware of others in their weaknesses, and I was intolerant of unkindness or cruelty. What became different in this instance of compassion was the connection I felt in the actual physical suffering and anguish over these children.
     Time has not made it easier. Be careful what you pray for! It is hard for me to describe what happens now. I feel more pain with each new instance of not only difficult events and circumstances in my personal life, but those happening to friends and in the world as well. The pain I feel often comes to the point of anguish. It is humbling for me who was once resilient to anything that came my way. Yet, because I feel so weak, I am forced to see others differently; maybe with more tolerance or  patience, and certainly with more compassion. It has helped me to forgive more quickly and fully, because when compassion overwhelms me, I cannot feel anger.
     Sometimes I say I am relieved, but why does it feel so bad? Why do I need to feel so much and hurt so much? Thank God, and may He have mercy upon me. Maybe I am beginning to see a tiny glimpse into how He sees us, and if I could just love others in a small way the way he loves us.  I am at odds with myself. Part of me wants to run away from the experience of pain, but when I really think about it, I never want to simply survive. I want to live.

A Mixed Bag of Readers

I am hoping I have hit the jackpot for my youngest child who I shall just say is a reluctant reader. We saw the book "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" on the display at our local Walmart and to my surprise when I offered to buy it for her she was receptive to the idea. She finished the book in two days and was hounding me for the rest of the series.
Twelve years ago, when my oldest son was her age, I would not even consider buying a book like this. Books I read on teaching and on parenting focused on quality. We stuck to the classics, and the Newbury Award books. Books like "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" would not make the quality list. They made the fluff list, and fluff is not a good thing to fill a child's mind with when they can have quality. Since then, I am coming around to see that perhaps there is a place for the fluff books after all.
If homeschooling my children has taught me anything, that would be that there is no one size fits all. Each of our children are unique, and individually have their own strengths, weaknesses, and of course personality. Because I personally love to read, and have an extensive library in my home that I have collected over the years, did not automatically mean my children would also share my passion. As the saying goes, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. Still, I wanted them to drink- I saw the benefits and so could never give up on finding a way to get them to read.
I read often aloud often for hours, especially to my older children (when I had more time). This was actually a great time because we could read engaging chapter books that were hard to put down, that they were not ready to read on their own due to the higher level or more difficult vocabulary. It was hard making the transition to reading aloud to getting them to read, and with each of them, I took different approaches to making this transition.
My poor oldest son did not have much say in what he was able to read. I was not going to buy fluff and let him fill his precious mind with nonsense. I picked the books and he had to read them. To his credit, he was a compliant child and read even the books he didn't like. God bless him for reading all 1200 pages of the unabridged Les Miserables at 14 years old- What was I thinking! Educationally, perhaps the reading benefited him for college, but I don't know if he ever new the fun of reading with the exception of only a few of the books on the list.
I started to loosen up a little bit with my second son. I still wanted him to focus on quality books, but we here and there would get a few books that were just silly.  I thought I was going to be reading aloud to him forever, because he always wanted me to read the first couple of chapters. Then I discovered that he was an auditory learner. he needed to hear the story to put the characters and setting in place, and after that could proceed to reading the rest of the story on his own. I ended up collecting unabridged audio books to help him get going. It was a good balance, it kick started him, and he still enjoys reading.
My third child, and oldest daughter, never had a reading issue. When it came to reading, she was the model reader I thought they all would be. She saw her older brother's lists and books and was challenged to read them. She wanted to outdo his lists! When he refused to finish reading Crime and Punishment because it was so depressing, it was his sister who took up the challenge to read all of it. My oldest daughter has surpassed me in the amount she reads, but with her, the momentum of bringing up enthusiastic readers fizzles as her younger sisters do not share this passion.
Fourth child, middle daughter- I really wondered if she would ever learn to read. She wanted to learn, we tried and tried, when I finally found someone who could tutor her using a different approach using the Orton-Gillingham Approach. Once she got going, she enjoyed the Little House series of books, and then got hooked on Nancy Drew. I began to wonder if she would ever try more challenging books, and when we started a book club with a group of her friends, she really stepped up to the plate. This motivated her, although I can't say it gave her a love for reading. Maybe some people read when they need to, and others read when they want to. I'm learning to be ok with that. I'm glad she reads.
Now this brings me to "Diary of a Wimpy Kid." My youngest child lacks interest in books- well not all books, she likes the activity type of interactive books, or books I would call fluff- just not the typical chapter books the average sixth grader would be interested in. I've tried a huge variety that I see others her age reading, but she's not interested. Even when I read aloud to her, it is much harder to keep her focused and interested as when I would read to her siblings. What was different about this book were the magic words I heard her tell her older sister (the one who loves to read). She said, "Guess what? I'm starting to like reading now!" Thank you fluff books! And there you have my mixed bag of readers!

About Humility

Today's theme of the day seemed to be humility. It all started this morning, a Sunday morning, and as Murphy's Law goes, what can go wrong goes wrong. The last thing I want on a Sunday morning when I'm getting ready for church is conflict, and sure enough as I am getting ready, what do I hear coming from another room-conflict! Conflict is often about two sides both being right and the other side wrong, neither side seeing the other's point of view- generally. Sometimes one side is right, and the other wrong, but the way I see it, most of the time if conflict is coming about, both sides really need to look at it that none was 100% right. The only thing that truly cures conflict is humility.

After a what seemed like a long lecture on pointing out to one of my dear children the value of restoring harmony and taking the humble road to accept that she may have been even slightly wrong, we arrived at church, still frazzled by what had earlier taken place. "Let's go inside." "No, I don't want to, I'm still mad." "It's ok, church is the place to be when you feel that way. Sometimes being in church fixes those bad feelings." Reluctantly we go inside. No one but God knows what has just taken place. A while later, she excuses herself to use the restroom, comes back, and slips her arm around my waist. No words, just a gesture. The words of the Cherubic Hymn are soothing as we "lay aside all worldly care, that we may receive the King of all."

After church we joined together for fellowship in our social hall, chatting with friends, and even getting into some interesting and thought provoking conversations, and then... a voice in the conversation brings back the memory of all that took place earlier in the morning with words that dealt with our topic of conversation- "the problem is that we are taught to be proud instead of grateful, and we don't learn humility" he said. So my next question was, "how do I teach this when the heart wants to be stubborn?"

Once home, a friend calls. The topic- family conflict. I realize to some extent all families face conflict in some for or another, and to varying degrees of severity. While some are able to move on, at other times there is what appears to be irreversible damage, unforgivingness and brokenness. I don't have words to heal the pain of others, but hope that God is bigger than any problem, and through humility and cooperation with Him, it is God who carries those problems over the tallest mountains and deepest valleys. 

I wondered about what the Fathers of the early church would say, and turned to a small book, On Marriage and Family Life by St. John Chrysostom. I'm not going to quote anything because everyone should read this book for themselves, but will say the principles written in the 4th century are totally relevant to our family relationships today. So simple, and full of wisdom. Bearing conflict through love and nurture verses entitlement- loving the one who doesn't listen, or obey, because while we have an expectation of our spouse or child they are not slaves who are always going to agree. A couple is so joined as if they are the same flesh, and the child is the fruit of their union. How do we hold back in doing all we can to nurture that relationship? If there is conflict, there must be a desire for restoration and the harder we make our hearts, our pride will continue to divide. The Holy Trinity is in unity. All are given authority and equality while the Father is given the headship. It is perfect unity in full cooperation, and the model of our own lives and families. We are called to love in this way, and that takes real humility. 

By afternoon, the morning's conflict was restored- by an act of humility- first by one who apologized (and I believe the most correct in addressing what was taking place) and then by the one who insisted on being right who took the time to think through that perhaps not everything was right on her part, and it was better to let go of her pride. This is humility. This is love.

Feeling Good about New Year's

   New Year's is a big deal at my house. The two main reasons- My son's birthday being New Year's Eve and living in Hawaii where I'll just say New Year's is like no other. I love New Year's Eve and New Year's day even though it takes lots of hard work for me to prepare and recover from our celebrations. But in the few moments between the experiences of New Year's, I try to think of all those soul seeking thoughts that I am supposed to. Those thoughts that come to mind are how can I assess the past year and what are the resolutions I need to make for the coming year. In a way, it takes a little bit away from the lightheartedness and fun going on. I am purposely making it serious business. Well this kind of serious business can take a little bit of the fun out of New Year's, but even so, I want to feel good about it all.
   Looking back- for the most part, I count my blessings- looking at the joys I have shared together with my family and friends, considering what I have accomplished, and just being thankful to see another year and the beginning of a new season. I cannot look back on the year, however, without reminiscing some of the more sobering days, thinking of those close to my heart who have passed away, gone away, or those who this past year have met with personal difficulties dealing with loss, health, relationship difficulties, and other kinds of hardship and stress. Sometimes my heart is so heavy for just thinking about these things- who hasn't been affected in some capacity to the harder aspects of life. So, I breathe deeply, close my eyes for a few moments, cross myself and say a prayer in my heart that even I don't know how to pray but feel certain God is hearing at that very moment.
   My thoughts turn to the future. This is my chance. It's a new year and now I have an excuse to make every effort to make a conscientious start to do better and be better than I was last year. What should I change first. It's a challenge. And, whose little nagging voice is whispering into my thoughts that I will fail. I feel defeated before I have even started. But, I know it's good and it's worth a try. I will try. It's New year's Day and I feel good. My faith gives me hope that this mystery of life is good- no matter what has happened or what will come.
My hope is the Father, my refuge the Son, my shelter the Holy Spirit. O Holy Trinity, glory be to Thee.