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My Tour Guide

3/17/2020

The Journey of Life. We are all on this journey. Since no two journeys are identical, I just want to share a few things about what I’ve discovered along the way. I have found that the older I get, the more interesting, intriguing and beautiful this journey becomes. Many things have come and gone in my life. Some things have remained the same while other have continually changed. The one thing I’ve found that has always been with me, never wavering, is my very own tour guide. His name is God.

I’ve been granted so many breath-taking sunrises and sunsets, so many beautiful landscapes that I cannot even begin to count them. The only times I haven’t seen any of them are the times I chose not to look for them. God’s always provided them.

I’ve made some amazing friends through the years. Some of those friendships have lasted what seems like forever. Others have fizzled down to just an acquaintance, while still others have completely disappeared. But I know that each friend was placed in my path for a specific reason. Those reasons may not be self-revealing and I may have felt at times that I had no friends at all. But as I reflect, I find that the only times I’ve felt completely friendless are the times I wasn’t a friend to God. He’s always been there for me…and He always will be.

My family! From having grandparents to now myself being a grandparent, plus living out every role in between. Yes, I’ve lost many family members whom I was not prepared to say goodbye to, but I’ve come to learn it is all part of life…part of growing…and a huge part of loving. And I know that I have a family waiting for me on the other side. God has them in His care and He has always been my heavenly Father. The only time I’ve felt homeless is when I failed to invite God into my home.

Ups and downs? Feast or famine? Oh yes, I’ve experienced all those as well. But for every down I’ve known in this life, God has given me a huge boost up. And for every famine I’ve suffered, God has given me a feast. The only times in life that I have truly felt hopeless are the times I was not looking for and talking to God. He has always waited patiently for me to return to Him.

Not enough can be said to even describe the storms of life I’ve endured. But look—I’m still here—and I’m not only surviving, I am thriving! Because after every storm I’ve gone through, God has given me a sense of peace and calm. He has always shown me a rainbow--the sign of His covenant with us. His promise to never destroy all of life with flooding. The waters may get deep and wide, but God is always there, standing on the shoreline, waiting to pull me to safety. The only times I’ve felt scared during the storms of life are the times I took my eyes off God.

Yes, this journey of life has taught me so many things. But the most important—the one that really stands out to me—is to trust God and let him be in total control. He is the most reliable tour guide I will ever know. If you don't already know Him, I would love to introduce you!

Ruth McDonald Mair
3/17/2020

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Adoption. It's Not For Everyone.

2/7/2020

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Adoption. It is not for everyone.

While there are different reasons a person would adopt someone else’s child to raise as their own, the level of compassion, understanding, patience, commitment and love that it takes to make this happen is the same on all counts.

Some people adopt because, for whatever reason—medical, age, etc., they cannot produce a biological child of their own. Some people have started a biological family and decide the best way to grow their family is through adoption. Sometimes people adopt because the child is a relative who has been displaced through death of their parents, neglect, abuse or abandonment. And the reasons are endless.

Many things need to be considered when contemplating adoption. Single-child adoption or multiple? What age—infant, toddler, older? Boy or girl? Open or closed (meaning will the biological parents maintain contact or no)? If open adoption, for how long—one year, five years, entire life? Tell the child they are adopted or not? If yes, at what age to tell them? What type of background is the child coming from—unwed teenage mom, deceased parents, abused or neglected?

When parents adopt, they bring a child into their home who is not necessarily their blood but is most definitely their heart. They bring not just the child, but they bring the child’s personality and background, which is not an offshoot of their own. They bring the child’s happiness and sadness, accomplishments and fears, emotions and scars, handicaps. They bring ALL of it into their home…the good, the bad and the ugly. They dedicate their lives to molding the child into a well-adjusted, happy, successful adult. They deal with the night terrors, the temper tantrums that no one understands the root of, the child’s fears of being left alone in the dark, the child’s fear of a cow looking at them (yes, this was ME at one time). They celebrate the birthdays, the Christmases, the vacations. They dedicate themselves to teaching the child who may seem unteachable, but if loved and cultivated could become valedictorian or salutatorian someday. They deal with the hearing impairment, the speech impediment, the wheelchair. They cheer from the sidelines. They survive the ups and downs. They do everything a biological parent would do.

The love and dedication of an adoptive parent is no different from that of a biological parent. I know. I was lucky enough to be adopted at the age of three. I always knew that I was adopted, but they were never my “adoptive parents.” They were my parents. They never once gave up on me, although I know without a doubt, I gave them good reason to many times! I have an older brother, nine years older, whom they adopted before me when he was young. We were never faced with any form of doubt that our parents loved us BOTH, unconditionally with patience and commitment, until their dying day.

If there are parents reading this that are raising an adopted child, please stand up. Stand up tall and proud. Take a bow and accept a pat on the back and hear my applause for making the choice to be a family to a child who may otherwise have none.

Adoption. It is not for everyone. But for those who have chosen it, you have made a difference. You ARE the difference.

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Just An Old Lady Rambling

11/29/2019

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Divorced families. Blended families. Intact families never touched by divorce. For adult children, figuring out how to please all these people at the holidays, or anytime, can be overwhelming. If you are one of these adult children, I want to point out a few things. First, not everyone who is divorced wanted to be. Second, divorce is not the end of the world. For some it's a new beginning and maybe even a saving grace for some. Third, divorced parents love and want to see their kids, kids-in-law and grandchildren just as much as non-divorced parents. Fourth, no one's parents--divorced or not--are going to live forever. Please believe me, there will come a time when you are going to wish for one more holiday, one more birthday or just one more day, period. But it wont be there...ever again. For some, that last holiday or birthday just may have been this past one, without anyone even being aware of it. Ponder that last statement. Please don't hold divorce against families, and please don't use it as a reason to not even try to get together with them. In closing, please take some advice from this old lady who really isn't that knowledgable, but has learned a few lessons. Time is short. And memories...or lack thereof...will last the rest of your life.

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An Open Letter to the 2020 Presidential Candidates

8/9/2019

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Dear 2020 Presidential Candidates,

As the time draws near for the 2020 presidential campaigns to begin, I find myself dreading the onslaught of this season. It seems the mudslinging, name calling, accusations and finger-pointing are all any of you do on the campaign trails these days.

To be frank, I don’t care what you think of the current president. I don’t care what you think of your opponents. I don’t care what you think of Republicans, Democrats, Independents or Libertarians. Those are all opinions—your opinions that I’d rather you keep to yourself. I don’t care which party you are affiliated with—I base my voting decision on who I feel is the best candidate. I don’t care if you had an extra marital affair fifteen years ago—that is in the past and you certainly aren’t the only one who has done this. I don’t care if you attended wild fraternity or sorority parties during your college career—we were all young and not-so-wise at one time. I don’t care if your kids went to private or public schools—they still got an education. I don’t care what’s on your meal plan for today—I have my own, thank you. I don’t care if you went out in public with one grey sock and one blue one, or if there was a wrinkle in your attire or your hair was messed up.

What I DO care about is what you are bringing to the table as a hopeful future president of the United States of America. Tell me what your ideas and thoughts are on getting this country back on track, to get people to stop hating one another, to get the political parties working together instead of constantly butting heads simply because they are not of the same affiliation. Tell me how we can help the homeless veterans, who by the way, deserve SO much more than they currently receive. Tell me how we can improve our school systems to help our students become responsible, productive, caring individuals. Tell me how we can help our homeless population and try and get them off the streets. Tell me how we can help our abused and neglected children. Tell me how we can improve on care for our elderly community.

In closing, I feel it would be a good reminder to leave you with the wise words of John F. Kennedy:
“And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.”
As you enter the 2020 presidential race, please base your campaign on those words and the well-being, safety and improvement of the United States of America and its citizens. Please check your baggage, and that of your opponents, at the starting gate.

Thank you. May the best qualified candidate be our next leader.

God bless America.

Ruth McDonald Mair
8/9/19

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A Letter to Mama

7/9/2019

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Dear Mama,

Well, it’s been 40 years since you went to be with Jesus. If I did my math right, that translates to 480 months or 14,600 days or 350,400 hours. You may want to double-check that for me since we both know math was never my strongest subject. Of course, if I could have had my way, math would not have been a subject, period. But no matter how you look at it or translate it—and whether or not my math is correct--it’s been a very long time.

I was just a 17-year old high school girl getting ready to start my senior year when you left. I had my senior picture taken. I managed to pull all A’s and B’s my senior year, thanks to no math classes. I went through the motions of baccalaureate and graduation ceremonies. I applied to colleges. You weren’t there in person, but I know you were there.

I became a college student. The first two years were pretty calm and quiet But the last two years, I really became a college student. Even though I still missed you, I’m glad you weren’t there to witness the last two years. Well, you weren’t there in person, but I know you were there.

Over the next few years I got married, had three beautiful boys and got divorced. Those were some years of major ups and downs, but I am so proud of my boys and I know you would be proud to call them your grandsons. I got remarried, gaining a bonus son and daughter in the package. You already know my bonus son, David. He’s in heaven with you, and I know the two of you are getting along well. Daddy joined you just six weeks after David. That was my toughest year yet. You weren’t here in person, but I know you were here.

Forty years has brought many changes to the world and to me, but it has not altered the love I have for you. I wish I had been wiser at 17, to know how much you really meant to me, to realize how much you did for me, and to understand the true depth of a mother’s love. I pray it doesn’t take my death someday for my children to have this clarity about me.

I miss you. You are not in here person, but I know you are here.

I love you, Mama.

Ruth
7-9-19

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See the Beauty

1/3/2019

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As 2018 came to a close, many people were busy deciding what their resolutions would be for the coming year. Some may have chosen weight loss, some may have chosen to find a new career, some may have chosen to save a certain amount of money. The list goes on. I have not made a solid commitment to any resolutions for many years, simply because after years of experience, I know I will not keep them.

I was talking to a friend just before the year ended and she said she was not making any resolutions this year. Instead, she was setting a couple of goals to reach for. Her two goals are health and simplicity. No set amount of weight to lose, no set amount of getting rid of unnecessary “stuff.” I liked her idea, so I decided to adopt it and set my own goal.

My goal for 2019 is to see beauty in at least one thing each day. I am not talking about the “obvious” beauty such as a sunrise or sunset, a good deed, etc., although those are things of beauty to be thankful for. My true goal is to see the beauty in things that aren’t necessarily so beautiful at first glance. Things like a traffic jam that makes me late for work, a burned dinner, someone backing out on long-made plans at the last minute, the dying plants in fall, an ice storm that cancels a girls’ night out, and so on. I believe that there is something good and beautiful in everything…it’s up to me to find it when it is not instantly obvious. I think that by setting this goal, it is going to help me live a more positive-focused life.

As I am writing this, it is January 3, 2019. I’ve already been challenged to see beauty, but so far, I’m batting a thousand! I will keep a “beauty list” and review it at the end of the year. Yes, there will be some sunrises and sunsets on my list—not every day will present challenges to find something beautiful. But I am determined to override those challenges on the days I need to.

God has allowed us to start a new year. Not everyday will be beautiful, but every day will contain beauty. My goal is to see the beauty.

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Simple Math

10/12/2018

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With each passing day, our country is becoming more and more divided. Very little love is multiplying.

Democrats vs Republicans
Liberals vs Conservatives
Women vs Men
Whites vs Blacks
Police vs Civilians
Rich vs Poor
Domestic vs Foreign
Young vs Old
Empowered vs Victim

I’m tired of all the political division, with each party cutting down and slandering the other. I’m tired of all the “he said, she said” commentaries. I’m tired of letting money “talk”, allowing allegations and law suits to soar, many times destroying lives. I’m tired of the rich not helping the poor, the rich helping themselves to what they didn’t work for, and the poor, in some cases but not all, not helping themselves. I’m tired of hearing “because I am black, white or purple with pink polka dots.” I’m tired of hearing that someone is too young to understand so their opinion doesn’t matter. I’m tired of hearing that someone is too old to serve a purpose anymore so let’s just put them away in a home.

Why can’t we be more understanding, more compassionate, more loving? Why can’t we live as “one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all”? Not everyone has to agree on everything, but we can certainly agree to disagree. We can agree to put an end to all the hostility and hatred that is quickly dividing our country and our families.

We should not allow our differences to divide us any longer. As I have heard many times, no matter what our differences may be, in the end our graves will all be the same size. Let’s each be one of the wheels that gets our country back on track.

When we stop dividing, love will multiply.

Ruth McDonald Mair
10/12/18

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Step Into the Darkness

11/9/2017

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Today I write this blog in hopes that some of you will be willing to step into the darkness. “What darkness?” I hear you ask. I am talking about the darkness surrounding another person, making them feel hopeless, useless, and lifeless. More than likely you know someone who needs help in some form. Chances are even greater you do not know exactly who this person is because they are good at keeping their darkness a secret.

I know…I have been there in that darkness…alone. Some of my family and a few friends were aware that I was “having a difficult time” but even they did not know the full extent of my suffering and my struggles to heal and just “be normal” again. I was not so far gone that I was contemplating doing harm to myself (or anyone else). I was in deep enough that, if I was not successful at shutting people out completely, I managed to keep them at arm’s length. Oh, I got out of bed each day, went to work, came home and made dinner. I attended family functions, sporting events. I decorated for the holidays and celebrated birthdays. Outward appearances showed that I was solid as a rock. However, inside I could feel myself crumble just a bit more each day. I suffered a lot, not from physical pain, but emotional pain. I didn’t know how to deal with things that were happening (in 2007 I lost my stepson and my daddy exactly six weeks apart, my husband was laid off from his job, there were financial hardships, I had kids that were getting ready to graduate high school, and the list went on and on). I fought with the demons in that darkness for many years. Only recently have I been able to step fully back into the light, realizing that I am not alone, but also realizing that it is ok to be alone at times. My saving grace came from the strength and love of one person who shall remain nameless because they have absolutely no idea that they are responsible for bringing me back into existence. And that, my friend, is the beauty of it. They did not know that their simple words of love and kindness, their patience and their prayers would lasso my heart and gently lead me out of the darkness. Today, as I enjoy the beauty of life once again, I am so thankful this person was able to reach me.

There are others suffering in that same darkness. Many of them are suffering much more than I ever was. Some of them may be contemplating ending their life because they simply cannot cope any longer. It is possible that you work with, talk to, or even live with someone who is sheltering himself or herself in the darkness, hoping and praying that someone will come along and show them the way out. It happened to me…it happened for me…it could happen for others.

Each kind word, every kind deed, each and every prayer is going to help someone, someone you may or may not know. So please take a step into the darkness today. Even if you believe the candle you carry is very dim, it will still bring light to someone else’s darkness.

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Time Doesn't Stop, But Life Does

7/28/2017

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Last weekend I attended a memorial service for a man I did not know. By all rights bestowed upon me at birth, I should have grown up knowing this man. He was, after all, my uncle. I grew up not knowing him because with life being so unpredictable, my four siblings and I were separated when I was still a toddler. The five of us grew up, adopted out to different families, not knowing each other. The older siblings have a few recollections of our biological family, but I have none. Several years ago I got to meet this man, my Uncle Gerald. Upon our introduction, I remember seeing him wipe the tears from his eyes. We talked for just a few short minutes and he told me I was welcome to come visit him and my aunt anytime. I told him I would do that. Time got away, and a few years later, I read in the local paper that his wife, my aunt, had passed away. I had not gone to visit them. I knew where this man lived, and I cannot begin to count the number of times I drove by his street and thought to myself, “I need to go visit Uncle Gerald. I need to get to know him. I will do that soon.” A little over a month ago I was told that he was having some health issues. Again I thought, “I need to go see him.” The first week of July, I learned that Uncle Gerald had passed away. I had not gone to see him. I had not gotten to know him. Out of respect for this man, I attended the memorial service with one of my sisters. As we took our place among the small gathering of people, it came to my mind, “Some of these people are my very own flesh and blood…and we do not even know each other.” A man and wife, who were good friends with Uncle Gerald, stood and spoke about him to those of us who had gathered to pay our respects. They spoke about how he loved to watch the Tigers baseball games, about how he loved his dog, and about how he loved his family. Then they talked about how little family this man had, and how he would get lonely at times. A few other people took turns speaking, and I noticed a common theme in each of their sharing. Uncle Gerald was a good, loving, family-oriented man. The military honors were then executed, beautifully and pretty near perfect, giving me goosebumps with the twenty-one gun salute and bringing tears to my eyes with the playing of the taps. As I stood there reflecting, a lot of “why didn’t you’s” kept going through my mind, like, “Why didn’t you get to know him? Why didn’t you try to make a difference in his life? Why didn’t you save him from some lonely moments in time? Why didn’t you reach out to his grandchildren and offer to help care for him?” The only answer I could dredge up was, “I just did not take the time.” I know I could have taken the time. I just did not make it priority. Before and after the service, I had the opportunity to meet a handful of my biological cousins and second cousins. I do hope that in the near future I have a chance to be better acquainted with some of them. I know that if given the opportunity, I will not put it off until it is once again too late, and I have to learn second-hand about what a good person they were. In closing, I urge each of you reading this, if there is someone in your life that you think could use some help, some of your time, or just a few words on the phone, please do not put it off. Put forth the effort to make it happen. Don’t let life get in the way. Don’t let your busy schedule rule your life. Don’t pencil someone into your thoughts…put it in ink by making it happen. You just never know when you might make a difference in someone’s life, or even in your own, if you just take the time to put priorities in the right order. Rest in peace, Uncle Gerald. I may not have known you, but I will never forget you.

~Ruth McDonald Mair~
7/27/17

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Sleepless in Elsie

7/19/2017

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Last night I decided to go to bed early and get a good night’s rest since I have been lacking in that department lately. By the time I conducted all of my bedtime rituals (take Murphy out, brush my teeth, double check that the doors are locked, turn off all the lights, say my prayers and coerce the dog to the bedroom) it was 9:30 pm. I fell into bed, drifting to sleep almost immediately. Have you ever been dreaming and just kind of incorporate sounds and/or smells into that dream? Well, I do not recall the dream I was having, but all of a sudden, I was very much aware that the ghastly odor in my dream was actually in my bedroom. As I came back to consciousness, I realized that Murphy (who sleeps on the floor next to my side of the bed) had passed gas. I looked at the clock and it read 2:05 am. I knew I still had a little over two hours to sleep, so I laid my head back down on my pillow. As I tried to go back to sleep, the dog decided to release more malicious toxins into the air. I turned onto my other side facing my husband, thinking this would block the stench rising from the floor. I soon realized this was no solution, as not only did Murphy continue to give his body relief, he began to lick (quite loudly, I might add) various parts of his body. On top of that, my husband was snoring…loudly. And exhaling….loudly. When he snores, he exhales with a "puff", likes he is blowing away the seeds from a dead dandelion. To my dismay, he was facing me and "puffing" right in my face. As much as I love my husband, he has some really raunchy night breath! Over the next thirty to forty minutes, the dog’s timely odor escalated, while my husband’s snoring and puffing got louder and louder. I tossed and turned, not knowing which was the lesser of the two evils. I flipped and flopped, trying to imitate a beached whale in hopes of causing my husband to turn over and face the other way. It seemed to be a failed mission on my part. Then, as I was about to give up, my husband turned over and was facing the opposite direction taking his snoring and puffing with him! I looked at the clock again. It was now almost 3 am and I knew I could still get one more hour of sleep. Just as I was dozing off, my husband let out the loudest emission of human gas I have ever heard. Moreover, almost in tandem, Murphy decided to give one more blast of not-so-fresh air. I do not recall all the exact thoughts/words that flashed through my mind at that moment in time, but I am certain that when I say my prayers tonight, I need to ask God for forgiveness. I threw the covers back, turned off the alarm clock (didn’t need it today anyway), headed outside with the dog, all the while threatening him that he BETTER have to poop. Around 4:30 am, my loving husband came strolling into the kitchen to a hot cup of coffee waiting for him on the kitchen counter. He looked at me, smiled and said, “Good morning, Sweetie. Why are you up so early this morning?” I just very calmly (to my own surprise) told him that I woke up and could not go back to sleep. Perhaps when we get home from work tonight, if I am still coherent, I will try to explain to him why my Fitbit says I got 4 hours and 18 minutes of sleep last night.

Ruth McDonald Mair
7-19-17

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My Tour Guide

Adoption. It's Not For Everyone.

Just An Old Lady Rambling

An Open Letter to the 2020 Presidential Candidates

A Letter to Mama

See the Beauty

Simple Math

Step Into the Darkness

Time Doesn't Stop, But Life Does

Sleepless in Elsie

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