A Real Man, a Real Woman

 

Hold my hand, daughter.

God, history, and hormones arranged how each gender performed in a family unit. Who did what? Man and Woman with their progeny struggled to survive in a sometimes harsh life. 

Man=hunt, impregnate, and kill. Woman=give birth, care for children, gather. Pretty straightforward, wouldn't you say? 

Some would say that there has been a radical turn-around. While many parts of this mixture remain solid, others shift around a bit. Given the changes in society and its needs, change in inevitability is natural.

Whether there is a dad or a mom in the home does not change a primary focus:
their family.

Mother's Day

Men walk through a mall carrying a pink diaper bag.  Women wear combat fatigues when taking their children to school. Men return from work on a motorcycle. Women take the cycle and head out. Men make quilts while women repair pipes. Men and Women both cook. Some are better than others.

Things change, things stay the same. 

 It takes a real man to feel safe in his role, whether it has changed or not.

It takes a real man to accept what he will do, what he can do.

It takes a real man to be the husband or partner to his beloved while both hold onto their family unit. 

And, it takes a real man to change a diaper. 

Happy Father's Day. Even if you are not a father or mother, be a figure for children to admire and respect.

My Hand in Hers

Source

One of the best and heart breaking journals of facing a death of a parent has been written by a fellow blogger, Sandra Tyler at her site, A Writer Weaves a Tale.

In the last years of her beloved mother's life, Sandra keeps a diary in  form of her blog.  Step by step, she writes how her talented mother loses the battle to retain her memories and talent.  What is never doubted, her mother loved Sandra with a fierceness that only a mother can hold.**

My husband John's mother, Dorothy Kane recently died.  It was the type of death she had prayed she would have:  in bed, sleeping and drifting away.

Many of my blogger friends thought that this was my mother who had just died. I so appreciated the sympathy comments on that blog.  Comforting words lift the heart and spirit.  

For 43+ years, Dorothy Kane HAS been a mother to me. I called her "Mom" from the day of my marriage to her oldest son, John. In the last few years of her life, she told me frequently "You weren't born as one of my children, but you are my daughter."

God bless all who have had to let go of hands who held yours  all your life.

**Sandra Tyler's credentials are astounding.  She had written two books, Blue Glass and After Lydia.  Please visit her site! 

Wednesday Words: Great Aunt Tilly

Rest in Peace

The coffin of Great Aunt Tilly lay in state in the funeral home, surrounded by family, who mourned her passing.  Whispering between themselves, their depth of sorrow was on display.  

She was quite the grand personality…Well, she was one stingy b…When Tilly entered the room, who could ignore her?…she was evil, downright ev…she was the best mother…

No one could say with certainty when the door creaked open and a slow dense fog rolled in along the floor.  No one could describe how the temperature fluctuated between cold and colder.

Screaming, all stampeded from the funeral home to their cars and roared away.

Andrew Jones, the undertaker, and his son Richard were speechless at first. Then Richard cleared his throat, “Well, you don’t see that every day.”

The creator of Wednesday Words is Delores at Under the Porchlight. She passed the baton to other bloggers, wonderful bloggers. Elephant's Child also shares the words at her site, and comments can be found there. My turn is the month of November.  Who will be in December or January?  Wait and see.