27 Cinco de Mayo's - 27 Years of Creativity (Audio)

ITP #37: There have been 27 Cinco de Mayos since Anush's daughter Ani was born. 27 years of creativity and memories to share. On this week's episode of Inside the Pomegranate, Anush shares some memories and the blessings of being a mom.
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27 Cinco de Mayo's - 27 Years of Creativity

Twenty-seven years ago today, on Cinco de Mayo, after 27 hours of labor, I was handed a little bundleand my life changed forever.  It was a defining moment.  From that moment on, I earned the title of "mama".  Today is my daughter Ani's birthday.  Last night, as we celebrated her birthday with family at their home, I was thinking about how blessed my life has been because of my children, and I was recalling some memories of motherhood with daughter, that have made my life so much richer.

My first life lesson happened the moment she was born and the doctor said, "You have a beautiful little girl." Surprise.  I don't know why, but we were convinced she was going to be a little boy.  This was 27 years ago remember.  Back before ultrasounds were so common.  I was so convinced that she was a boy that I packed a blue layette to bring her home in.  Don't get me wrong.  We were not disappointed in the least!  In fact, as soon as they placed her in my arms, we couldn't imagine her being a boy at all!  And just two days later, dressed in blue, we took our little girl home understanding full well that surprises can be beautiful things.

Our baby was born on Cinco de Mayo.  The fifth of May.  It's a big deal here in California.  And every

birthday since Ani was one, we have had Cinco de Mayo birthday parties.  The first year, my younger brother bought Ani a traditional Mexican dress in green, white and red.  We always made Mexican food.  Tacos, burritos, Margaritas for the parents, and a pinata for the kids.  Funny story:  On her first birthday, we invited our family and friends to celebrate Ani's birthday.  That year we bought a little clown pinata.  It was just about her size.  She was only a year old, and our nephew Varoujan was 9 months older.  The two of them watched as we filled the pinata with candy.  We took the pinata out on the patio, and the guests arrived.  We were all chatting, enjoying watching our kids playing in our backyard.  And then it was time to break open the pinata.  We invited Natasha who was 5 years old to take the first swing.  She was a 5 at the time, and could manage swinging the stick.  We blindfolded her, and she started swinging at the bobbing pinata.  The next thing we hear is Ani, Varoujan, and some of the other kids crying.  We're all wondering why, when we realize, they were terrified for their clown friend.  They had no idea why someone would want to be beating their friend with a stick.  After that year, the pinatas were not people based designs, until, I think a few years had gone by and we had the Princess Jasmine pinata.  By then she understood what a pinata was all about.

As our baby grew, I learned that my child would copy whatever she saw me doing.  This one's a no brainer, right?  My love for jewelry, and crazy colors in my hair, manifest itself in my little girl.  At her baptism when she was 5 months old, a friend of ours had made her a tiny gold initial ring, she also received a little gold bracelet with her baptism date on it, and a gold cross necklace my parents had made for her.  We put  them on her on that day, and she left them on.  She never took the ring off, played with it, put it in her mouth.  they all stayed put.  She was the only baby I knew that was not bothered stuff like that.  I didn't take my jewelry off, so why would she?  When she was just a little over a year old, she would hang my bangle bracelets from her ears as earrings as she toddled around the house.  This led to her sitting absolutely still when we got her ears pierced when she was a baby. She'd look in the mirror, touch her earrings, and say, "pee-ee!"  (Ani-talk for "pretty").

We always encouraged her to paint - at first I would color her baby cereal with food coloring, and have her finger paint with it sitting on her high chair.  And then when she was about 3 or 4, we would seriously go through a box of children's water colors every week as she would dip her brush in water and mix colors, sometimes painting on paper, and sometimes painting on her hands or her tummy, sometimes just watching the colors mix in the water, but always mixing and experimenting with colors.

She grew up with all kinds of music playing at the house.  It was the late 80s and early 90s.  She grew up with Joni Mitchell and Crosby Stills Nash and Young, Jethro Tull - music from my youth infused with The Smiths, The Cure, Morrissey, Phoebe Snow and Adam Ant.  I told this story at her wedding and probably here on the blog or podcast as well, but when she was three years old, she had made a huge mess in her room and after telling her that I WANTED it picked up, she put her little hand on her hip, turned to me and and sang - "You Can't Always Get What You Want" while waving her little finger at me.  Her dad was a Stones fan.  I remember a camping trip we took with some friends back when she was about 4.  Our friends had two little girls - one her age and one a year or two younger.  And they were playing with their buckets and shovels on the beach.  Her friend was singing, "Row, Row, Row your boat."  And our little one was singing, Morrissey's "Our Frank" - (Give it a rest, won't you?  Give me a cigarette.  The world may be ending, but look I'm only human...)

We would always buy her markers, origami paper, paints and hole punches.  She would create little pop up books, and Mother's Day coupons for me (that I have in my bible).  When she was 9, she asked for a second piercing in her ears....and then a third when she was 12.  How could I say no when I myself had my ears pierced several times?  Summers were always a time for self-expression.  Without school dress codes to worry about, summer was the time to get a pink or green streak in her hair.  When henna tattooing got popular, I was intrigued with it.  I bought henna from the Indian market, read about mixing it with lemon and eucalyptus oil and we started decorating.  It was summer, remember? Ani had intricate lacy designs henna'ed on her hands and feet.

Our children copy what we do.  Because I had breast cancer when Ani was 6 and Nareg was 12, my kids grew up with cancer awareness.  As soon as Ani was old enough to walk in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer with me, she signed up.  Walking 39.3 miles with my daughter was such an incredible celebration of life for me.  And since that time, she has continuously signed up year after year to walk or crew alongside me.  She has fasted for world hunger, and protested against the war in Afghanistan and the Darfur genocide. She has grown up a social activist.

The teenage years were memorable.  Some good memories, some not to good.  And when I say that, it's not like they were terrible...but there was the usual teenage angst, but we made it through.  By then, I was a single mom, and Ani and I were living in a tiny 1920's rock cottage together.  My son Nareg, was living with Ani's dad locally.  The rock cottage was seriously small, about 700 square feet total, and we had a lot of fun making it our own.  Every room had a "word" painted on the wall.  Ani painted her room, with the word, "Adore".  My room said, "Dream", the kitchen (with it's 6' low ceiling) and paintings and messages all over it, and the bathroom painted with, "WHOOSH!"  We spent Ani's teenage years in that house.  It was ours.  There were happy memories at our home.  And one of the most memorable was when a handsome friend, Eric, came to pick her up for the prom.  That memory is etched it my mind.  I was at the front door when he pulled up.  Ani was in her room.  I watched him walk up the driveway, then the front porch in his tux, holding a corsage.  Ani came out of her room in an apricot colored formal. Her hair was up.  She looked like a princess.  After taking a few pictures, I watched Eric open the car door for her and off they went.  I didn't know at that time, that that evening was the beginning of their lives together.  They've been together ever since.

My family has always been there for me through everything, but Ani was physically there for me.  We have

seen each other through a lot.  She was my maid of honor at my second marriage.  When she was in nursing school, I was blessed to have her by my side through two rounds of cancer in 2011.   Even though her studies were taxing, her creativity never left her.  In fact, it became her escape as she scrapbooked, cooked, baked, and collaged.   I have saved every one of her handmade cards that she's written for me.  She has always poured her heart and soul into anything she created.

She is a girl of faith.  And she knows the importance of prayer and giving thanks to God.  When I see her in prayer at church on Sunday, my heart is filled with joy.  Because I know she knows that none of this amazing life is possible without God's guidance and grace.

In 2012, she and Eric got married.  And together, they have created a home.  And now they are creating their lives together.  Last year they started a 52 soup a year project and cooked and blogged soup recipes - one a week - for the entire year.  They garden together, planting tomatoes, artichokes and plants together.  God has truly blessed us with such a wonderful son-in-law in Eric, because they take care of one another. I love that.   They've been together since the prom...and that was 9 years ago.

And now, my baby girl is 27.  Today!  My Cinco de Mayo Baby.  She's thoughtful and considerate. Compassionate and caring.  She is a loving daughter to our family, and a wife and friend to Eric.  And she is still creating.  She's in the process of creating her best work yet - our little grandson.  As I see rounded tummy, I can't help but touch her hoping to feel a kick...a connection.  I am so blessed to be a mom. God has really blessed me with life after all my health issues to see my baby become a wife, and soon a mom.  And the good part...I get to be a MedzMom!

I know that she and Eric will be wonderful parents.  And I know that the creativity will continue. There will be sunflowers to plant, and gardens to grow.  There will be messes to make, and messes to clean up. There will be sticky kisses and sweet hugs.  But for now, there's a baby room to decorate, a quilt to finish, and projects to complete before the baby comes.  I am so thankful to God for the blessings He's given me.  And for blessing me with such a wonderful daughter and friend.  Happy Birthday love bug!!!

 

The Importance of Dignity (Audio)

ITP #15: October already! It’s hard to believe that the holidays are just around the corner. In this episode, Anush takes a look at extending a hand up to the homeless population, upholding dignity, and giving from the heart.
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The Importance of Dignity

The approach of October 1 at my day job is always a time of craziness, and that made for a really trying week.  It's hard to believe that September is already over, and you know that the next 3 months are going to fly by.  Here in the U.S., the stores have a couple aisles side-by-side devoted to the seasonal stuff.  It's a combination of Halloween costumes and candy/Thanksgiving turkeys and fall leaf decor and Christmas decorations!  And that's really how it's going to come and go in a flash!  It seems like just a few months ago that I was writing about my daughter's wedding, and in just a couple weeks, she and Eric will be celebrating their 1st anniversary.  Already!

This time of year marks the beginning of the approaching holiday season.  In general, people tend to be a little more generous during this time of year...usually.  I know that the economic downturn, however, has made it stressful on many of us.  It seems that the bills are always there, no matter what.  And then life throws us a few curveballs along the way:  the car breaks down (we know what that's about!), you've got to take an unexpected trip, medical expenses, etc.  It's easy for us to get stressed out about finances.  And then the Christmas season is just around the corner and with it comes the gift giving madness...you know how that goes.

As difficult as it does seem to get at times though, it's not as bad as it could be.  We still have a roof over our heads, food in the fridge, clothing on our backs, and a bed to sleep in at night.  At least most of us do.  And this week, I wanted to talk about the part of our population that doesn't have these blessings.  The homeless population.

If you've been following my blog or listening to my podcast, you know that I am involved in our In His Shoes homeless outreach.  I am in tune to this vulnerable population...not only because I work downtown, but because I was brought up with parents that cared about them as well.   For the past 6 years, we have been providing meals and clothing to the homeless population on L.A's streets in the skid row area on a monthly basis.  And recently we have partnered with Glendale's homeless shelter and we are now providing homecooked meals to the residents there.   This gives us the opportunity to not only have fun cooking for them and watching them enjoy our efforts, but it also gives us a chance to sit down with them, talk to them, and to understand that they are no different than we are....except that we have support systems, and they don't.

Today, though, I wanted to write about those that don't even have the four walls of the shelter to keep them warm and dry.  I write about those that are living on the streets because I want to share some things that I've witnessed over these past weeks, months....years.  Especially as it deals with dignity.

I witnessed something this past Monday morning that is still pulling at my heart today, nearly a week later.  I take the bus into downtown L.A.  And as I got off at my stop, there was a group of us standing at the signal waiting for it to turn green.  I noticed a woman about 20 feet away.  She looked poor, though I can't really tell you she was homeless.  I could tell she had tried very hard to put herself together.  She wore pants and a shirt.  They were clean but very worn.  Her hair was combed to the side, her shoes had holes.  I could tell she was thinking about something.  I understood from her posture and from working with the homeless that she was trying to get the courage to ask for help.  She came closer.  Right next to me was a beautiful woman, dressed to the "t".  Shoes, clothes, make up, matching bag, jewelry were all perfect and her hair was layered and flat ironed.  She was very well put together.  The poor woman approached her.  I heard her start the conversation which went something like this:  "Ma'am, good morning.  I love how you have your hair.  The way it's layered.  It looks so lovely on you....."  Okay, now if someone said this to you, would you not have the courtesy to say, "Thank you"?  I was really taken aback when the pretty woman stopped this woman in mid-sentence, held out her hand like a policeman stopping traffic and said, "Stop!  If you're going to ask me for money, I don't have any!"  If you could see the poor woman's expression of horror when she was confronted this way.  I heard her mumble something about needing only 35 cents...and then the poor woman apologized.    I was so sickened, and saddened by this.  I wanted to follow her as she walked off and give her money, buy her food....but I couldn't because at that moment that's not what she needed.   she had lost her dignity.  I know how mortified she felt at the rich woman's response. She had mustered up all the courage she had to approach this woman in the first place, and then to be rejected so terribly.  I couldn't make it worse by showing her that I had heard the whole thing. I watched her gather herself together and walk away.

You've heard me talk about my homeless friend Bob.  I learned a long time ago to allow him to give back to me as well  Over the course of the 5 or so years that I have had the pleasure of knowing him, he has given me so much:  a penny with a hole stamped in it; a box with an Alaskan fish painted on it; a bag of nuts; a piece of candy; a white chocolate egg....and most importantly his wonderful friendship.  When he first offered to share some candy with me, I thanked him and refused.  But I noticed how that made him feel.  When you're homeless, people avoid you.  It's a given that you're going to ask for help.  You already feel invisible as people avoid you, walk around you, don't acknowledge your presence.   The simple act of talking to someone, and sharing something you own with them, makes you feel like you too have something to share. Like you too can contribute to the friendship.  One of the things that Bob likes most, more than donations or food or money, is when people stop and talk to him.  If you call him by name, he's your friend for life.    And so I accept Bob's gifts of friendship.   And I cherish them.  Because here is someone who has so little.  Everything he owns is packed onto his wheelchair...yet he has so much, that he wants to share it with me.  I am touched by his friendship.  Bob has got dignity!

A few years ago, I witnessed this dignity in a homeless man on one of our Skid Row outreaches.
We had pulled up to our first stop on 4th Street and San Pedro.  There was a small encampment of people living in boxes (if they were lucky to have a box) or on the sidewalk.  It was a cold Fall night, and a man came up and asked if I would have a pair of shoes for him.  He said that he had shoes, and if we didn't have any, that was fine. But he thought he'd ask.  The sidewalk had puddles from the rain that day, and the man's shoes were canvas and looked a bit damp.  I dug around and found a pair of leather high top shoes.  I held them up and asked if he could use them.  He looked at them.  He smiled.  He said they looked great.  He hoped they fit.  He said he wouldn't take them if they didn't fit.  And he took the pair of socks I offered him and set about to try them on.  While he was trying them, I asked if he could use some soup, an emergency blanket?  A rain poncho? "I'm good," he said.  "I have everything I need, but thank you."  

The shoes fit.  He was smiling....and stomping around.  Then he did something I will always remember.  He handed me his canvas shoes, and said, "I'll donate these to you.  They're worn, but someone else can make some use of them.  Oh, and I'd like to give you a donation."  When I thanked him but said it wasn't necessary, he said, "Oh, no, I know it's not necessary, but I'd like to.  It's important that we help one another.  And your group is here helping us."  He pulled out two rumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handed it to me with thanks.  I was so touched.  He looked like all he had was the clothing on his back and the new shoes on his feet.  But he was happy.   You could tell he had been on the streets for a long time.  But he still had his dignity.  He didn't want to take without giving back.  

These are just a few examples out of many that I've experienced on the street.  The economic downturn can cause us all be feel less charitable.  Of course, we're all feeling it.  That feeling that, "I can't help someone else.  Some days it feels like we can barely help ourselves."  But is that really the case?  Like I mentioned, if we have a roof over our heads, clothing on our backs, food in our tummies, then we CAN help others.  Maybe we can't give financially, but do you have enough food?  Then maybe you can pack an extra sandwich one day a week and pass it to someone who is hungry.  Maybe you didn't get to eat that apple that you packed for your lunch?  The gift of a piece of fresh fruit is a blessing to someone who is living on the sidewalk.   Okay, maybe you don't pack your lunch.  Maybe you're out on a business lunch...how about putting some of your lunch aside in a doggy bag to share with someone on the street?  

The weather is starting to get chilly in the evenings.  Going through your closet you find a sweater or two that you haven't worn for a couple years.  It may be a designer label, but what good is it doing in your closet?  Wouldn't it be nice to share that with someone who has no sweater?  You see what I'm saying?  This may all seem really obvious to you, but when I talk to people about the homeless population, I hear lots of different opinions and some of them are very negative and judgmental.  And is it our place to judge?   Nope!

When you think about it, we are all vulnerable without the love and support of our family and friends.  Remove them from our personal equations and then think about what would happen if you didn't have them as your support net.  Then think about not having that support, losing your job, losing your home, and then maybe having a dependency problem on top of it all.   Life is not easy these days.  It's it's especially tough when you're robbed of your dignity by having to ask for food and money.  

I also realize that not all of you have contact with homeless individuals, but there are still shelters and food banks that could use our help.  With Christmas approaching, there are families that need help.  What about adopting a needy family (with your family) and providing groceries for them?  Donate to your local food bank, volunteer your time at a shelter.  Get involved with charitable giving.  At our church, St. Peter, we have all kinds of programs to help make our Thanksgiving and Christmas more meaningful.  We have our annual food drive where we provide turkeys and food to needy families in our community, we have a toy drive to provide toys for the children of domestic abuse in the shelter, and our annual blanket project has us all knitting and crocheting beautiful masterpieces to give to those in hospitals and cancer wards.  What about you?  There's so much to do.  And so much we can do.  But what we should never do is rob someone of their dignity.  It's only the giving that makes us what we are!

So whether you can give financially- and many, many, MANY thanks to those of you who so generously donate to our ministry and our homeless outreach - or you can give of yourself...the importance is in giving...from the heart! 

As we start this new season and gear up for the Thanksgiving and Christmas, let's all work together in sharing Christ's love, compassion and peace with ALL those that we come in contact with.

If you're interested in sponsoring one of our homeless outreaches, you can shoot me an email at anushnoor@gmail.com

When Your Apology Isn't Accepted (Audio)

ITP # 14: Have you ever apologized for something and had your apology not accepted? Or worse yet, not acknowledged? Tune in this week as Anush deals with forgiveness, conflict resolution, and "moving on"... if that's possible.
Produced by Suzie Shatarevyan for epostle.net
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When Your Apology Isn't Accepted

There's something that has been weighing heavily on me for the past several months, and on Friday, it finally came to a head.  Because you know I share everything here on my blog, I wanted to write about it, thinking that it would be good to hear your ideas, reflection, insights as well.  It's all about forgiveness, and hurt, and apologizing, and then ...have you ever thought about what happens when your apology is not accepted?  Here's what happened.   

My coworkers and I used to put in a couple dollars a week to play the lottery. My one coworker was in charge of the winnings which we would keep to buy more tickets when the jackpots got big.  We would always communicate via email.  So when one day the jackpot winnings were at an all time high, my coworker (let's call him Ray) sent out an email:  "Shall we use some of our booty to purchase more chances for tonight's drawing?"  In regular form, our group sent back responses saying yes.  Now, mind you, Ray has always been very jovial, fun, and has always had a good sense of humor.  Playing on his use of the word "booty" I wrote back, "I agree! An idle booty is the devil's playground".  You know that old saying, right?  Idle hands are the devil's playground.  All I meant was yes, let's put the money to good use.

I thought nothing of it.  The following day, though, my friend was very quiet.  All day.  When I was leaving, I asked, "Ray, what's up?"  No response.  "Ray?"  He responded, "Nothing, just busy."  Okay, maybe he's a little moody.  I thought nothing of it and off I went for the weekend.  On Monday, when Ray walked in, I greeted him with my usual good morning.  Nothing.   No response.  And the several hours later, I received an email from him. "I thought about it all weekend, and I don't know what you meant by your comment, but I will no longer be handling the money for the lottery."  WHAT?  Seriously.  I went back to re-read my email to see if I said anything wrong.  Nope.  So I wrote back.  I explained what I meant...that it meant nothing.  I was trying to just make a play on the words he had used.  Obviously, I said, it was misunderstood and if I had offended him by it, I was truly sorry.  I explained that he was my friend!  We had known one another for 10 years.  And I would NEVER do or say anything to hurt him.  And if I had, again, I apologize.  I waited for a response.  It never came.

And then there was silence.  I thought, okay, maybe he didn't get to the email yet.  He seemed busy.  I waited.  One day, two days. Still nothing.  You have to know that we work in an office.  I have a cubicle, and there are four of us that share a quad of cubicles.  So we're right there in each other's space.  The silence from him, flowed over to my other coworker, his friend who announced via email that he had decided that he was no longer going to play the lottery and wanted out.   I had decided that I didn't want to be part of it any longer either because losing friendships over something so petty wasn't worth it.  And within a day, our lottery group that had been playing for the past 4-5 years disbanded. The small amount of winnings we had were all divided up among us players and that was that.

 But the silence continued. Our department has always prided themselves on being close with one another.  We're the "fun" group of our office.  Yet now, this whole thing had thrown a wrench in the works.  Days turned to weeks, a week turned into a month.  I would literally come to work, say good morning in my quad. Other than a "good morning" from the other two (not Ray), not one would talk to me until I said, "good night guys" at the end of the day when the same two would say goodnight.  The third coworker was not involved in it at all, but because he works for Ray, if Ray ain't talkin' he wasn't either.  

Anyways, it was incredibly uncomfortable to say the least.  Of course there are other people in our office that I would talk to, but this was always there for me.  If you know me, you know that peace is a big part of me. My heart has to be at peace or I'm not okay.  This all started back in June.  My boss had been on vacation.  When she returned, she felt it.  She asked me what was going on.  And I told her.  I shared with her my email that I had sent...Ray's response, and my apology.  She thought that was really strange.  She didn't understand.  She told me she would handle it..that she didn't want this type of thing going on, but I asked her to please give it more time.  I just cringed at the idea of her calling us in.  As I had been the odd man out here, I thought it was just going to put more of a strain on things.  I told her that I would like to handle it.  She was getting ready to go on a business trip.  She said okay and that she'd check back in after her returned in 3 weeks.

By now over a month had gone by.  The silence was taking it's toll on me.  I couldn't sleep.  I discussed it with my husband, my mom, my daughter.  I didn't understand why he couldn't accept my apology.  I didn't understand how this person that I thought was my friend, would think that I would say something to offend him.  My health started suffering for it.  I had to go to the doctor who said my stomach problems were from stress.  I even started looking for another job.  

With my boss gone, I had incentive to get this worked out before her returned.  All the while I had been praying about this.  Asking God to open Ray's heart so he could see inside mine.  I thought I'd try again.  That Monday, I wrote him another email.   I asked if he would have a few minutes to talk to me.  I told him I understood he was upset, but I didn't understand why...and again, obviously, I said, it was because of my initial comment, but i truly didn't mean anything of it...and again, I apologized.  Would he have time this afternoon to resolve this?  I received no response.  The whole day I waited.  The following day I came to work, and he had responded.  He said there was nothing to talk about.  We should just allow time to take it's course.  That was it.  And he left on a 3 week vacation.

This whole thing has been very stressful and difficult for me.  I am a Christian.  I don't take that lightly.   Those that I talked to about it told me I had nothing to apologize about.  But I didn't have a problem with that.  We're all human.  We are not perfect.  And if I had hurt someone, I had no problem in apologizing for my offense.  But the difficult part of this whole equation was that I had done my part, but my apology wasn't accepted.  And not only was it not accepted, it was ignored.  I started thinking about apologies.  When we forgive someone we do it not for them but for us.  I started working on forgiving him....so that I could start dealing with what I was feeling because as the weeks were going on, getting up and going to work was getting more and more difficult.  At work, I continued trying.  I continued saying good morning.  I continued saying good night.  

When my boss returned she didn't mention it.  A couple more weeks went by.  And then two weeks ago we all went out to lunch with a client.  Ray was late, and when he arrived, the only seat left was across from me.  Dread.  Everything was fine with the group.  My boss was sitting next to Ray, I joined in the conversation with the others in our department, and Ray directed his conversation to everyone but me.  And my boss picked up on it.  That afternoon she called me into her office to find out what happened while she was gone.  I explained the attempt.  Shared the email with her, and Ray's non-response.  I told her I didn't know what else to do.  I had tried.  

A few days later, my boss called Ray in.  The door was shut.  And they were in there a long while.  When he came out, he went back to his desk and continued working.  The following morning, I asked my boss if she had spoken to him.  She was busy.  Yes, she said, she had.  She could talk to me about it sometime when she had more time.  In the meantime, she said, Ray was supposed to talk to me.

This past Thursday, nearly a week after that (and three months after the initial incident), as I was packing up for the day, Ray came up and asked if I would have time on Friday, after lunch, to talk.  "You want to talk to me?", I said.  "Sure."  The following day he approached me in the afternoon.  He suggested we go outside to talk, so down the elevator we went, outside to sit in the plaza.  He started out saying, "I don't know where to start with this.  The boss says you're upset."  You can imagine my inner reaction to that, right?  I mean here's a man that has made such an effort to ignore me for the past 3 months...and he says we're talking cuz I'm upset?  So if he didn't know where to start, I would just have to help him.  And I did.

I think God opened my mouth for me.  I told him that he knew very well what he was doing, because being cruel was not something that anyone did naturally.   I reminded him that I had apologized 3 times, yet he had chosen not to even discuss or acknowledge that apology.  I told him I didn't understand what I had done or said that offended him so badly.  I asked him to explain.  And as I always do when I am frustrated, I started to cry.  To which he replied "Don't take it personally like that....you don't have to be upset."  Really?  Apparently, my comment had made him feel that I was questioning how the money from the lottery funds were handled.  Go figure.  Although he understood that I had apologized, he said that sometimes people say things and then apologize after but the damage had been done.  I asked, did he feel this was my case?  We went around and around  He told me that he was sorry that he had made me feel so bad.  I asked him if he accepted my apology.  His response took me aback.  He said, "Well, I've learned to move on."  I told him that wasn't the same thing.  He said, "I can forgive...but it's going to be hard to forget."  I was stunned.  Forget what?  But then I thought about all I had been through too.  And I conceded.  "Okay I said.  I get that, because I can forgive you too....but I will have a hard time forgetting as well."  

I think the thing that really hurt me the most about this entire stupid thing was the fact that this is a person that I considered my friend.  Not a dear friend, but this is someone  that I see at work 5 days a week.  I thought that after 10 years of working together, that I knew him...and he would know me.   I told him that he should know by now, that I would never want to do anything to hurt a friend.  Intentionally or unintentionally.  And there was also hurt there because I thought I knew him. I wouldn't think that a friend would intentionally want to hurt me either.  We don't do that.  Yet he had.  And he knew it.  When I called him on it, he had no answer.

So how did it end?  Well, he asked how we should move on.  I told him I would like us to be civil.  To start saying hello again.  We didn't need to be best friends, but we should be courteous.  It will take time we both agreed.  I told him that I had prayed for him.  That God would open his heart to understand mine.  He said, "Well, maybe it worked."  That was it.  We took the elevator back up.  At the end of the day, I packed it up and said, "Good night."  "Good night," he said.  That was the first thing he has said to me in the office in 3 months.  It's a start.

I am relieved that it's over...that it's somewhat resolved.  Although I know things will ever be the same between us.  I can forgive, though it's difficult to understand why someone would want to hurt someone by not accepting their apology.  Perhaps he didn't know me as well as I thought he did.  Who knows.  All I can do is keep praying and let it go.  I found this nice quote on forgiveness by Mark Twain.

"Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it." - Mark Twain

The violet has no choice but to be crushed by the heel though.  I did have a choice to allow Ray to crush me with his actions.  And I don't know why it was so stressful for me and why I allowed it to hurt me so much.  Because truly, in my  heart, I KNEW that I hadn't done or said anything to hurt him.  So why?  Why couldn't I just let it go knowing that I had done my best to resolve the situation?  Why not just say, "hey not everyone has to like me...."  y'know?  I'm still taking a look at that one.  At what point do we need to stop apologizing?  In my case, I think it was more of a character issue.  It was important to me that he understand that I wasn't like that.  I would do something to hurt him.  Yet, looking at it from the other side now, obviously, I had.  I suppose Ray's not acknowledging my apology was his way of punishing me.  But in turn, wasn't it more of a punishment to the self to have to put yourself through purposely working so hard to hurt the one you're upset with?  Anyways, these are all things that I'm pondering.  What do you think?  I'd love to hear from you. 

In It To End It!!!

Here are the cards I will carry with me every step of the 39.3 mile journey.
I will hang them from my pack for all to see and as reminder that we have to keep walking til we find a cure. 

This weekend I'll be walking 39.3 miles in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer with Team In Her Shoes. I am walking in memory, honor, and celebration of those that have fought the fight and won, are currently battling, and sadly, those that have lost their lives to cancer. I am walking against breast cancer...and I am walking against ALL TYPES of cancer. Here is my list of names. If I missed your loved one, let me know. I have them written on cards and will be carrying them with me every step of the journey:

Fr. Vazken Movsesian

Diane Taschne

Daro Zadoian 

Iskouhi Ghazarian 

Debbie Gillum
Shirley Burr
Stella Okada
Ana Guzman
Elise Antreassian
Ellen Allison
Hilda Jubelt

Houri Donoyan

Cynthia Keylian

Veronica Monano Bedjakian
Evelyn Shafer

                                                                     Nevair Tatoulian

Robin Haviland

Laurie Hrzyan

Anita Sislian

Sylvia Proskine

Hratch Casparian 

Rita Mendez

Gloria Burgos 

Gloria Solorio

Yvonne Clemente

Lauren Graves 

Martha Pacero

Lisa Hagan
Nelik Golanian

Sue Bugsch

Andrea Petker

Stephanie Sajjadieh

Tamar "Sugar" Apelian

Patricia Didonato

Emma Kapurch

Robin's mom

Mimi Megerdichian 

Anush Berberyan

Tamara Kiser Sparks

Nora Svajian

Tean Kech

Monica Beltran

Josephine Greco

Shakeh Arpajian 

Sossie Arpajian 

Irene Sazar

Arpine Jarlekian

Suzy Jones-Rogers

Janet Cicero

Zabel Bahudian 

Laurie Byerly

Taleen Petrossians

Marguereite Vigorito

Deegeen Nvart

Madline Tatoyan

Maria Wulf

Adrienne Krikorian

Nanejan Hacopian

Elizabethe Kronaugh

Margie Scott 

Dianne Friend

Jane Leapheart

Margrit Zariani

Jenny Smith 

Janet Stephen

Carolyn Kakligian Tellalian

Richard Jouroyan

Jennie Boranian

Bn. Simon 

Jim Lione

Chris Jakubowski

Cory

Rodger Brennan

Leo Franconi, Jr.

Danny Avejic 

Allan Lowry

Ferdinand Sarkissian

Ardella Jelloian 

Robert Eggert

Perooz Baghdassarian

Haig Diradourian

Desi Geestman

John Martin 

Paul Tallis 

Shirag Berejekian

John Quintana

Katarina Zlatkovic

Claudia Minjares

Keith Ammerman

Paula Crisostomo

Ellen Yerejian

Dan Cortes

Puzant Sabounjian

Beth Pereny

Susan Hill

John Shafer

Francis Sobott

Grace Balayan 
Hratch Balayan 

Becky Leonardi

Brian Sellers

Sarah Barajas

Lyndsay Colosimo

Delta Rathbone

Jennifer Thoma

Nick Mehterian

Mary Frances Sawtelle

Rick Bowman

David Ponkey

Devorah Stamulous

Danielle Adams

Patrick Dwyer

Alice Mikaelian

Tami Brazil
Becky Leonardi
Brian Sellers
Lyndsay Colosimo
Jan Petit
Sue Smith
Lou Fancelli
Randy Crabtree
Jon Kinney
Paul Perkins

There are a few of you out there whose cancer is so new, I wasn't quite sure you wanted it out on FB at this time, so I didn't list your names. If there are others that I missed, comment with the names, or just message me by Friday.

Thank you to all of you for your donations, support and prayers.  Please pray for us this weekend.   And send us blister-free wishes too.  I'm in it to end it!

There's still time to donate:  www.avonwalk.org/goto/anushavejic

Off to School (Audio)

ITP #9: It's time to head back to school. Whether you're a student, or a parent, the new school year can be an emotional time. On this week's Inside the Pomegranate, Anush takes a look at letting our kids go so that they can learn some of life's lessons on their own.
Produced by Suzie Shatarevyan for epostle.net
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Off to School

We just got home today from a week's vacation.  It's kind of sad to have it come to an end because we had such an amazing time.  For several years now, the state of Oregon has been calling to me:  "Anush.....anush.....come to oregon..."  Okay, not spooky like that...but I've had this feeling that I have to go to Oregon for some reason.  Neither my husband, nor I had ever been there, so this year, when we were thinking about vacation, I pulled a double whammy and said, "Hey Neddy....this year, for vacation, I want to go to Oregon."  "Okay...what's there?"   "I have no idea."  Always up for an adventure, he agreed.

Then the second part of the whammy.   "Let's go camping up the Oregon coast!!"  Although I have quite a bit of camping experience, and Ani and I have gone on mother/daughter camping trips, this was my husband's first time camping.  And I figured he's either going to love it or hate it, but I thought what's the harm of trying.  So I made the reservations and booked some very beautiful campsites on the Oregon Coast and off we went.  And I've got to say that it was incredible. And I have created a camper out of him!

The beaches are wide and expansive and clean.  If you love looking for shells, like I do, this is a great place to go shell collecting.  And rock collecting.  There are some really interesting agate beaches with beautiful pebbles.  And there are trees, trees and more trees.  The drive up the coast is lined with forests.  Huge redwoods.  And just the sight of it all makes you really appreciate God as the greatest artist of all.  The trees, the birds, the scenery, and colors in the sunset were all miraculous.  Sure, I live in California which also has the coast right there, but in Oregon there were miles and miles of pristene beaches...unspoiled.  The industry up there is timber and fishing, so great little towns dotting the coast and lots of friendly people.

We roughed it...slept in a tent.  Cooked out on the coleman stove, and although we weren't hugely successful at keeping our campfire going, it was good enough!!  So the whole experience was great.   My husband's one indulgence, or goal was getting a Dairy Queen every day for a Peanut Buster Parfait.  He's from Chicago, and I guess Dairy Queens are common there but not in CA.  So when he saw the Dairy Queens dotting the coast, all was right with the world.  Did you know there's no sales tax in Oregon?  And you can't pump your own gas.  Seriously.    We covered from Brookings to Astoria and back.  And on the way home we made a stop in San Francisco to visit my younger  brother and his family before heading home.  All in all, in 8 days we drove a total of 2015 miles! I'll post some photos of our trip on my blog.  If you'd like to see, please visit www.pomegranateandeye.com.

Well, how has your week been?  You heard that mine was great.  If you have children you know that either last week or this week is when schools are starting back up.  I was thinking back on the start of the new school year when I was in elementary and junior high school. Until recently, I think, the start of the school year was right after Labor Day, right?  For some reason it's in August now.  Anyways, there was great anticipation in  starting a new year at school  New lunchboxes, new notebooks and PeeChee folders (remember those?).  And then on the first day you'd need to bring your books home and cover them all. We'd use the brown paper bags from the grocery to cover our books.  New markers or crayons for projects...and a new eraser...the pink kind.  The Asian girls in my class always had the really cool plastic erasers from Japan that smelled sweet.  I was always jealous of them because of their scented erasers.

New school clothes.  The funny part about living in CA and back to school clothing is that mom would buy us fall clothing....the plaids and the socks and tie shoes and sweaters.  Of course we'd want to wear new clothes on the first day of school, so there's everyong all in their fall finery, except that the temperatures here in So Cal are in the 80s and 90s...hardly the cool crisp weather the clothing is meant for.  But back then, in the 70's, there were dress codes.  Shorts and tshirts were not allowed in school.  Neither were sandals. So we dealt with it. 

So as I mentioned earlier, on the way back down from Oregon we stopped in San Francisco for one evening to visit my younger brother, sister in law, and my nephew Vartan who will be starting Kindergarten this coming Monday.  After spending a very fun evening playing Pengaloo and Pikachu with him in his little igloo tent in the living room, the following morning were were able to attend Vartan's play day, a nice little get together of all the kindergarten classes at Vartan's new school.  We all met at the park, and each child was given a lei that coincided with the class they'd be in.  Vartan's lei was yellow....so immediately, he went in search of other children that had yellow leis on the playground.  It was neat to see his interaction with his new classmates....and in turn, it good to see the interaction of my brother and sister in law with the parents of Vartan's new classmates as well.

To those of us who have been there, and done that with our children, we know how difficult it is that first year.  Sending your baby off to school to fend for themselves can be very emotional.  As my brother and I stood together at the park, taking it all in, I saw him searching the playground for Vartan, making sure he was making friends.  Wanting to go up and check in with him, but being a strong daddy and holding back and letting him out there on his own.  But yet still present.

There's so much to learn when you're just starting out.  How to share, how to take turns, how to listen and not interrupt.  And then the realization that you're not the center of your teacher's universe like you are to your parents.  Being that we were visiting, I was trying to get some pictures of him and went up to him on the playground to see whta he was up to. There was a play train in the yard and Vartan was behind the wheel.  In front of him was another compartment...the engine compartment, and behind him other cars.  When I approached him he looked concerned.  When I asked what was bothering him he said,
"That girl is in the engine compartment."
I said,"Well, maybe she's the engine mechanic?"
 He answered,  "But I'm the engine mechanic".
 I said, "Well, you're behind the wheel...I think you're the engineer...and she's the mechanic."  "But I'm both!", he said.  "I am the engineer, AND the mechanic...I do everything on this train!"
I think this is the big lesson of kindergarten and of course, of life:  You CAN do everything yourself in life, but it's so much more fun when you allow others to share in your adventure.  I told him that Kindergarten was going to be different. He'd have a lot of friends that would all want to share in the fun.  And that everyone had to play together. I don't know if he bought it, but I could see him thinking about it.   And as I walked back toward my brother, I looked over my shoulder and Vartan had turned to the kids in the passenger cars behind him and was saying,  "Everybody get ready.  This training is leaving and it's going to Los Angeles!"  : ) And the little girl?  she was still in the engine compartment...as the mechanic!

And then there's us parents.  The start of school is an adjustment for us as well!  My sister in law has been a stay at home mom since Vartan was born.  Embracing motherhood and makiing sure that my nephew had diverse and challenging experiences, she signed Vartan up for all kinds of classes, workshops, activites that the both of them would attend.  Because of this, he's very well adjusted, social and makes friends easily.  And he has a super imagination too.  Now, suddenly, it's going to be different for his mom as she'll find herself alone while he's at school.  It's tough to let go now and allow all those experiences to come to an end and let the love and nurturing to do their thing.

It's like this for all our lives, no matter how old our children are.  My sister had posted photos of my two neices on their first day of school and wrote a comment on Facebook about how they were growing up and she remembered that song from Mama Mia...about how her kids were "slipping through her fingers."  One just started 5th grade, and the other high school.  I was thinking, "Just wait....til they start dating, and college...and weddings..etc."  It all flies by so quickly.

And then there's the big move if they're attending college away from home.  Suddenly after high school graduation, our kids are packing up and moving out....clothes and dorm room stuff, hot pots and ramen noodles.  Bedding and blankets.  And their rooms are empty until they come back for holidays or summer.  And then life after college:   I remember last year when I wrote about my "empty nest" and how I felt after my daughter got married.  It's much the same as that first day of school.  All of life is like a series of hills....start school, climb up through the grades, graduate.  Start a new school and you're down at the bottom of the hill again...you start the climb... freshman, sophmore, junior, senior....graduate...then start over with college back down at the bottom.  And then after school, real life. And the same with new jobs...starting at the bottom, working your way up.  If you change career's you're back at the bottom.

We love our children.  We nurture and provide for them. We teach them life lessons that we've gone through but that they can only learn if they experience it themselves.   It's our job to instill in them self confidence, curiosity, compassion, love, kindness, self-preservation and faith.  We pray for them....for their safety, for wisdom, for good friends and good judgment.   And then, when it's time, we have to let go...and let God guide them.  We have to have faith that we have done our best....and then believe that all our prayers are being heard and that God is holding our children in his loving hands and wrapping them safely in the wings of his angels.

To all of you starting off a new school year...whether students or parents. If you're a student, I wish you a successful school year with happy memories, new friends, a natural curiosity and a joy of learning.  And wishing our parents out there peace and faith in knowing that our children are right where God has intended them to be when we have raised them in a love-centered/God-centered home.  Oh, and one more thing:  College students....be patient with us parents and realize that it's hard for us to let go too.  Send us a text message and check in once in a while. Call home on the weekends.  Because we miss you more than you know.

And finally, I'm writing this on Asdvadzadzin, the Feast of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary.  I wanted to wish all of you Mary's out there...Mariams, Mar's, Marianas, (And all you Mary-name derivatives) and my sister Susan - who is a Surpouhi, a very blessed Name Day! Anoonovut Abreek!!

****************

If you'd like to hear the audio version of this blog, it's available for download on epostle.net, iTunes, Stitcher radio and blubrry.

PHOTOS of our TRIP to OREGON!!!

Day 1: Prairie Creek Campground in the CA Redwoods.  Car camping in my car.  Me, the Tree Hugger!  

Day 2:  Loved the bridges, the Heceta Head Lighthouse and the Sasquatch Sculptures as we made our way to our campground at Cape Lookout

Day 3:  Sand Dollar collecting on the beach at Cape Lookout,  Tillamook Cheese Factory, Seaside and Astoria Oregon.

Day 4: Yaquina Head Lighthouse, Whale watching at Depoe Bay, Tidepools at Nye Beach in Newport and watching the Sunset with Jiffy Pop back at our campground

Day 5: Finishing up the sketchook project, Driving down to our new campsite at Sunset Bay, driving through Northbend and crossing the 45th Parallel

Day 6:  Picking berries at our campsite for breakfast, packing it up and visiting Coos Bay, and Bandon by the Sea and some of the beautiful beaches at Ophir and Cape Sebastian...ending up in Crescent City

Day 7:  Driving down to San Francisco and making a stop at Coppola Winery to visit our vine (tagged in 2009)  Spending time with our nephew Vartan

Day 8:  Time with family and our drive back home!  2015 miles!!!

The Cancer Connection (Audio)

ITP Episode #7: Ever feel like you're in this exclusive club that no one wants to belong to? Welcome to the cancer club where Anush talks about physical and emotional connections made through this disease.
Links: www.pomegranateandeye.com
www.avonwalk.org/goto/inhershoes
www.thesketchbookproject.com
Produced by Suzie Shatarevyan for epostle.net
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Subscribe to Inside the Pomegranate by Email
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