People With Influence -- Part Two

So many people impact me, even when they have no idea.

That first person, that boy or girl who you dreamt about and pined for ...

Your first love. We all define it differently but I know who mine was and he was definitely an influence.

The aunts and uncles who took you on dates, bought cute clothes for you and put up with you when your parents needed a break. Their influence in my life cannot be calculated. I still call or email and ask, "Will you help me?"

The cousins who forget that you're not a sibling. They drop what they're doing and say, "What can I do?" I have a cousin who occasionally sends emails to his family. It's his wife, mother and siblings. Somehow, I made the list and I get a little giddy whenever I see my name on the family list. Another cousin with an extremely busy life manages to make me feel important and relevant. She confides in me. And, she lets her daughter visit -- knowing I'm probably a bad influence.

The animals (okay -- technically, not people) who run to you, slather you with kisses, do the "I'm so happy you're here" dance.

Neighbors. We've all gotten so wrapped up in ourselves that we can forget to be good neighbors. I like it when a neighbor calls to say, "There's someone in your yard, is he supposed to be there?" I grew up in an environment where neighbors looked out for each other.

The children. Busy with their own lives and their own struggles. Yet, they manage to find time to email, phone or text. Somewhere in there is a message of love.

Grandparents. If you're lucky enough to still have them: hug them. call them. Soak up their love and their knowledge. (Ask them for money.)

In-laws. I miss the Captain and the Belle. They influenced me in a great and profound way.

Oldies. Take a lesson from me. Help that old woman with her groceries. Ask that man if he needs help across the street. Listen to their stories. You're not doing them a favor -- you're getting an education.

The husband. Maybe you have one of those marriages where you never disagree, you never get on each other's nerves and you never break a promise. I don't. I have a marriage that keeps me on my toes. (I tried it the other way -- I got bored.) I like learning from my spouse. If nothing else, he keeps me interested.

The "Get Me Out of Here" Window

Remember being pre-teen or early teens? In my day, you did not have the option of cell phones and texting. You were at the mercy of your parents and what they chose as family entertainment.

For a while, my parents chose square dancing -- complete with the full outfits.

Ok, I admit I enjoyed the dancing part but most of the time I felt like a dork. I've always loved dancing but this was not my fave. Part of it felt like I landed on the set of Hee Haw. When you go to school and someone asks, "What did you do this weekend?" Trust me, you don't want to say, "I went square dancing."

We dragged others along. One of my first crushes was Greg Davis and that kind boy accompanied me to many square dances. What was he thinking?

I used to count the days until Jan would get her driver's license. She didn't need my help but I would've taken the test for her. Just get it and let's get out of here!

The Belle would be proud that I was wearing pearls.

Wandering and Wondering

I'm wandering through the house -- picking up wrappings and trying my best to tidy up. While I'm wandering I'm also wondering.

The oldies are in Texas. I'm just enough of an egomaniac that I'm sure they need me. I'm wondering...

The daughter is on a plane. Beyond the prayers for a safe trip, I wonder about her life. She's happy and we're thrilled. But, there are lots of decisions in her future.

The baby is headed back to college in a few days. I wander through his bedroom and then I wonder ... Have we put too much pressure on this child?

The husband keeps me in the loop but he is stressed. I wonder if I'm making it better or worse.

I wonder about friends. Do they need my help? Am I failing them?

The First Boy

Like all young girls, I regularly had crushes on the boys in my neighborhood. Some were fleeting and some last forever.

As you know, I did not enjoy yard work or anything that made my hands dirty. I epitomized "prissy." There was a boy down the street. He helped my dad and he did all of my yard work for me. I was madly, passionately in love with him.

My parents went through a dorky stage where we all went square dancing. God love them, he and his sister went along. I choose to believe that he wanted to be with me. My dad had a pick-up truck with a cab and the kids rode in the back. He used to kiss me and his sister pretended not to notice.

I know he went into the service. I know he is happily married with children. I ran into him once in a mall. I was gushing.

My parents ran into him a few years ago. My mom, always the Queen of conversational innuendo, said, "There was a time in my life when I thought you would be my son-in-law." His response: "I'm not dead yet."

With due respect to his wife, I still have a crush on him.