Monday Musings

I actually sat at the wheel of my car this morning and, before heading north for work, I remembered to bow my head and talk to God a bit before I departed. I have a fairly steady running dialogue with Him, but it's rare for me to formalize it with a bowed head these days. I'm sure that's true for many of us. 

I thanked God for the clear sky and warm weather, for the fact that I felt well-rested even though I had had a late night. I thanked Him that I was making it out of the driveway with my breakfast and lunch packed instead of my usual forgetfulness. I thanked Him for the joy of having three of my five children under my roof all summer because that is all about to change with OU classes starting up soon. And I thanked Him for some blessings that are known only between Him and me. I went on to ask for a safe commute. I asked for a good day for my spouse and children. I asked for respite from the COVID infections ravaging my home state. And I asked for us all to do a better job of remembering what unites us instead of what divides us. I asked for some other things that are also private. And it was nice to say an unhurried "amen" before starting the usual daily grind.

I'm sure that many women and men much more deserving of those same blessings have made those same asks with much more faith and devotion than I did this morning. And this afternoon we heard about the continuing rise of COVID infections and some really bad news about climate change. I felt for a minute like my pause this morning might actually have been what I sometimes fear it to be, an exercise in futility. But the idea of joining my voice to people of greater faith and better works than mine appeals in a way that it hasn't in the past few years. I think I will do my best to keep at it.

A Dream Come True

A couple of weeks ago, I got an email from my husband. This is nothing new. His cell phone is worthless since Tinker moved him to the old GM building and since everyone now has a cell phone, they no longer have direct lines to the work areas. So, we email throughout the day. But this email was not a 'Who has what after-school activity and what forgotten dinner ingredient do I need to pick up on the way home?' kind of message. This one was an invitation. And it got my attention immediately:

There was a press release from the American Banjo Museum sharing that they would soon open a temporary Muppet exhibit featuring the banjo used in The Muppet Movie and The Muppet Show and that Heather Henson would be in attendance at the ribbon-cutting. Accompanying the press release link was a note from Dave saying "I AM TAKING YOU."

And two weeks later, with much last-minute protesting from me because "there might be crowds" or "I might accidentally annoy Ms. Henson with my presence", we were on our way. We arrived about 30 minutes early and found only a handful of people were there. The staff looked a little stressed, so I introduced myself as a fellow museum director and we chatted a bit. I tried to look at the other cool exhibits, but when I discovered a screen and video loop of Rainbow Connection while watching Ms. Henson arrive and start to greet the museum staff and other visitors, I became focused on just the small area containing multiple panels highlighting Jim Henson's life and career and, of course, the red ribbon being drawn in front of one of the barriers sectioning it off from the rest of the exhibits.

I was especially impressed by an exchange between Ms. Henson and an extremely autistic young adult whose mother had driven him all the way from Tennessee to attend. He did a great imitation of Frank Oz and we all applauded softly. The crowd had grown at this point, but we all seemed to be fellow Muppet fans and somehow, it wasn't as bad as I had feared to be surrounded by a lot of people. During the ribbon cutting, I learned that the Muppet Show banjo had been an eBay find brought to Ms. Henson's attention by a friend. That the banjo museum had been told multiple times that they would not get a model Kermit puppet, but received one to add to their display thanks to Heather Henson and that the miniature banjo it was holding was one used by the 'Jim Henson' puppet that occasionally appeared in the Jim Henson Trio skits on The Muppet Show.

The ribbon was cut. The panels were scrutinized and photographed and I had taken great shots of the Kermit puppet and the infamous Muppet Show banjo. I was already happy and emotional. Dave asked if I wanted to get a photo with Heather Henson since she was circulating among the crowd, making polite conversation, signing autographs, etc...I said I didn't dare. So he asked her for me. I love the photo, but I loved more the five-minute conversation we had about how her father had inspired me, influenced the things I taught my children, turning towards Oklahoma history (Jim Henson's father was from Meeker, OK), the Harn Homestead, and how excited she was to tour Oklahoma City with the director of the Oklahoma History Center later that afternoon. I made sure to keep the conversation brief, as she was very much in-demand that day. But it felt very casual, relaxed, and friendly. And as if it could have gone on for hours if the right time and place had presented itself. I'm sure she is well-practiced at speaking with fans, but she is also Jim Henson's daughter and I like to think his ability to make people feel unique and special and part of something bigger than themselves continues to perpetuate itself in the world and that she is part of that effort. All in all, it was a bucket list item too big for me to have ever actually written down on one and a testament to how much Dave has come to understand me in the last 22 years because I never would have gone, much less dared to approach Ms. Henson while we were there had he not pushed me out the door and asked her for a photo. Looking at the photo critically, the humidity that morning was not my friend and I wish I was about 40 lbs. lighter. And also, I do not care. The morning and the photos are perfect. Thanks Dave. You get me.

Music Monday: I Wonder

Shortly before I left for Italy in 1994, I found myself in a very transitory phase. I had a brand new college degree, but instead of looking for a place to live or attending multiple job interviews; I was living at my parents during the down time between my early May graduation and my entrance into the Missionary Training Center. Most of my weekends were spent busily (and often foolishly) with my friends John, Christina, and Jeff as a way to stave off anxiety about the upcoming great unknown. But during the weekday mornings when they were all working or sleeping or pursuing other activities; I spent the late nights or the early mornings walking my parents' neighborhood (a different one than the one from my childhood home, but not far from it) as if trying to commit it to memory. I often sang to myself (since my kids got all of that talent) and my favorite was an old ABBA song my Dad and I had sung together when both the album and the family Oldsmobile were new. It was "I Wonder" which was more recently recorded and cut from the Mamma Mia sequel. I really hope it shows up in the eventual deleted scenes because it was one of my all-time favorite songs and completely appropriate for my life transition. Here is a video of the lyrics. Below, I will answer some of the biggest questions that 22 year-old Melessa was asking back then:

1. Yes, your home and family will be here when you get back. But there will be a lot of people who will have endured the horrors of the Murrah bombing while you were gone. But then and now, no amount of explosives, tornadoes, floods, or tanked economies and education budgets can ever really do permanent damage to your precious Oklahoma. (And stop apologizing to all those Jello belt citizens for being from there.)
2. Your future niece and her little sister will not ever remember that you weren't there the days they were born and, even better, you will be there for every niece and nephew birth to follow.
3. Your Rainbow Dad was right "If it's meant to be, nothing you do will change it. If it isn't, it will fall apart no matter how hard you try to keep it together."
4. This will be the only thing your Rainbow Dad was ever 100% right about.
5. Yes, there will be weddings, cross country moves, and other falling outs while you are gone. and no, your friend group will not still hang out like they did before you left. But eventually you will throw enough scrapbooking parties to get the girls back together and, many years down the road, you will reconnect with the boys when you all become "moms", "dads", and advisors to the next generation of Rainbow, DeMolay, and Jobs' Daughters. On a related note, Karma really has an evil sense of humor, so buckle up for it in heavy and hilarious doses.
6. Yeah, you should have called "that Army guy David" before you left. But you will call him when you get home. (And again 6 months later when he is no longer dating that girl he tells you about the first time you call him.) I refer you back to item #3.
7. Tell "Mom Liles" and your "Other twin brother Travis" how much you love having them in your life, because it won't be long enough in either case. (And be glad you said yes to Nancy when she asked you to be Mother Advisor, because it will give you a few extra years of close contact with both of them.)
8. Enjoy your time in Italy, you will be really happy with the way everything worked itself out. I promise.

My Most Recent Epiphany

I write (or is that whine?) a lot about never feeling like I fit in anywhere. It's been a major theme of this blog for far too long. I've thought about this a lot recently, and I've finally decided that feeling that way may just be inherent in my personality and one of those crosses I have to bear in this life. I've also realized that while I may not always be at ease at huge family gatherings (mine or the in-laws) or in my many social circles; I already have the respect and friendship of anyone in my life whose opinion actually matters to me. And while I think it's human nature to want to be loved and accepted by everyone (and even more so for "pleasers" like me), I am going to spend a lot less time worrying about it. There are a lot of really wonderful people in my life who know me and love me for the very human and very flawed person I am and always will be. Why would I seek the esteem of people who make me jump through hoops to get it? I don't know either-and from now on I'm going to worry a lot less about it. I know it sounds like a very simple conclusion to draw, but for someone who has always been described as"gifted" academically; I've always been a little bit slow in other areas. Anyway, coming to that conclusion made a very busy and very socially-oriented weekend a lot more fun for me. In other words: "I'd rather be hated for who I am than loved for who I am not."*


*A very apt quote for today's post that one of my favorite bloggers, Alison Wonderland, posted on Facebook today.