What Nancy Did Right

I went to a lone lunch recently at my favorite little hide out. I say lone because I went alone, not because the place lacked for business; it was bustling. I found a solo seat next to a table of four ladies old enough to be my grandmother. 

I had barely ordered my food before understanding that there was an obvious discussion leader of the group. Chatty was dolled up in gold and white, matching her dyed strawberry blonde hair with blonde highlights. She wore lots of gold jewelry and bright pink lipstick. She was very well put together for her age, but she is part of a generation of women who fixed themselves up when they left the house.

She had her smartphone out and was reviewing current events with the gals.

“I'm not into watching funerals....I’m not! I’m just trying to figure out Nancy’s casket. Look. Is it wood on the bottom and metal on the top?”

She passed her phone to the gal on her right who moved her glasses down her nose.

The conversation continued as the lady began discussing her own funeral.

“I told him it's the last time he’ll have to spend any money on me so I want things to look nice...” 

I tried really hard to keep my smile to myself but couldn’t; I pulled my phone from my purse and pretended to be preoccupied by something on the screen. This was like a preview of my mother and her best friends in thirty years. 

Have you read about my mother's last wishes?

She continued by digging in her purse and pulling out an envelope, then a photo.

“This is my favorite school picture. I loved that pink dress; it gave me color,” Chatty said while passing the photo around the small group. I couldn’t help but look over; it was small black and white photo. This woman was something else! 

“So I told him I want to wear this shade of pink,” she said, putting it back in an envelope. 

I’m not sure any of her friends said anything in response or even cared; they all just nodded. Until, Nancy Reagan again came up in conversation once their food arrived. That topic brought more of Chatty’s friends into the discussion. They each remarked about how her health had declined since Ronnie died. How she was the end of an era. How she was an icon in many ways as her role of First Lady, present and former.

Like much of the public, I too was disappointed to hear of Nancy Reagan’s passing. My first thought when Cody told me: There will never be another like her. My second: How happy Ronnie must be to have her home.

Nancy did a lot of things right in 94 years, and as the classic gals at the 4-top table next to me remembered her, I too thought about her influence and a few lessons I could remember from the lady. 

Just Say No

I always assumed our local DARE officer came up with that slogan. Imagine my surprise when I learned - only after her passing - that this was a product of Nancy. I was just shy of five when Reagan left office; give me a break. While Nancy was referencing drugs (and I completely agree with her on that) I think it’s ok to Just Say No when you’re feeling overwhelmed. Give yourself a little time, a little space and a little rest and decline that obligation. Don’t feel guilty for not taking on more. What do you want to remember in ten years?: The anxiety you felt while trying to be all things to all people or those quiet nights at home?

Identify and Own Your Cause

Life is busy…which is such a buzzword right now, right along with sustainable, Bernie and kale. Exhausting. Anyway, you’re “busy” with work and the running around and the commitments and doing favors and returning calls. You do a lot to keep the wheels turning! But what about the one thing you care about that isn’t screaming for attention? Your cause: The thing that lights a fire of emotion within you. Recall it, recognize it and own it. Make time for it. Nancy’s causes were things like awareness of drug and alcohol abuse, annual mammograms and Alzheimer’s research. Your cause doesn’t need to be grandiose, but does need to be true to you.  Find some way to expend your energy in a positive form that strengthens your core, not just staying “busy”.

Speak Well of Your Spouse

Nancy defended Ronnie fiercely, internationally and consistently. The public never, ever wondered where her allegiance lied.  She was proudly his greatest confidant, vocal supporter and loyal advocate. I think there are few things more exhausting than someone who continuously speaks negatively of their spouse or significant other, constantly criticizing them or the things they do - or don't do. What if you used that energy to focus on the good things they bring into your relationship? Consistent complaints only reveal what you're lacking. And if you're not married, but speak poorly of the person you’ve not already committed your life to, how are those around you supposed to support your continuation of a relationship with them? 

Dress Up and Show Up

Nancy had her own color: Nancy Red. She wore it boldly and confidently, the epitome of class. I try to emulate her example every once in a while, but I can’t seem to nail it down. I think I need a statement necklace.  

I’ve often heard that no matter how you feel, dress up and show up. I’m sure you’ll agree: some days half the battle is doing your hair.

 

Dude. I so get it.

I’m just going to say this. Nancy Reagan never wore a shirt claiming “I woke up like this”, so you probably shouldn’t either. When did it become trendy to claim to not take care of yourself? Put on some pants that have a button, buckle or zipper. Pull yourself together. Comb your hair. Put on some lip color. 

And if you woke up like that, 
are you sure you've gone to bed?

I only made it that far in my Nancy notes before Chatty’s comments caught my ears again. Her attention had somehow (how do you even do this?) shifted from Nancy Reagan to Hillary Clinton.

"Did you notice that she’s been repeating her outfits? That navy blue suit with white trim. It’s back! The cut just isn't right for her. You get thousands of dollars in campaign money and you can’t find a suit that makes you look less hippy (not to be confused with hippie)??" 

I tried to find a photo of Hillary's suit that she was referencing, but couldn't. I'm certain if I had asked to see the photo on the women's phone being passed around, she would have included me in the one-sided discussion. 

Update! Jean's Boots Reader Kristen 

helped me by supplying a photo of the suit 

Chatty was referencing. 

JB readers are the best. 

Drugs, passions, spouses or fashion, the four next to me confirmed something long believed, and another side point that Nancy wore well:  Girls need girlfriends. 

Barbara Bush, Nancy Reagan, Rosalynn Carter, Betty Ford, Pat Nixon, and Lady Bird Johnson

Side note: Chatty ended lunch by telling the group - as they were putting on their rain jackets to leave - that the reason she wanted to have lunch with them was because she was going in for a colonoscopy next week. She promised to call each of them when she was done for a progress report.  

Please, God, let me still be that fun at her age. 

Eighteen and Know It All

My employer awards scholarships to Indiana and Ohio high school seniors in our trade area who plan to study agriculture in college.

Before I go any further – the submission deadline has passed.

Part of my role within the company is to compile these applications and prepare them for review by our Youth Development Committee. My contact information is on the application, making me three things: susceptible to a constantly exceeded inbox volume, available to confirm last-minute receipt of applications (23 arrived on the deadline...been there, done that) and also be on the line to answer any questions.

Annually we hear from some of the most promising kids in the future of agriculture. It’s always an encouraging experience, seeing how many seniors have a desire to enter the agriculture field, in any capacity. Vet school, economics, communications, marketing, equine therapy, the list of ways students want to pursue agriculture goes on and on.

Annually I also receive a lot of phone calls.

Did you get my application?

Did page 4 come through?

Does my transcript need to be sealed?

Can I hand deliver?

Do you still have a fax machine?

Can you read my son’s handwriting?

And more.

But the question I get every year that really grabs my attention usually comes from a parent. Even more so often from a Mom. On the telephone. It’s typically a question, then a hurried explanation, followed usually by a sigh of relief.

The question/explanation/sigh of relief usually goes something like this:

"Does Jean (name replaced to protect the innocent and overwhelmed) need to declare a major to submit this application? Because she knows she wants to go into agriculture but she isn’t sure exactly what field. And she isn’t event quite sure what university she will end up at. She is still waiting to hear from one more before she makes a decision and it’s hard to declare a major when you don’t know for certain where you’re going to study. She could end up in Indiana, Illinois or Oklahoma – and each offer something different. It’s just a lot to be so sure of right now for this scholarship…"

OK.

Everyone needs to take a deep breath.

I reassure the parent that if the student lists an ag major, they can fully explain their intentions on page 4 of the application.

What I really want to do is reassure them 

that their kid won’t be discounted 

because they don’t have their life figured out 

at 18 years old.

Life figured out at 18 years old?

What does that even look like?

Eighteen years old.

Just enough exposure to curriculum and hobbies that a kid is supposed to draw in pen – or size 12 font - the path for the rest of their life.

The truth is that a large percentage of students who declare a major when entering a college or university will eventually change it to better suit their passions and developed interests by the time they graduate. Me, for instance. I started at Purdue in astronautical engineering and graduated in agriculture communications. And if you'll buy that, I'll throw the golden gate in free. 

So, you college bound students, drowning in fillable PDFs and watermarked transcripts and checking the mailbox everyday for some type of acceptance. And you, students who would much rather pursue a hands-on trade rather than spend another minute in a classroom (Your path is just as important as someone going to a 4-year college. Sometimes we don’t need another lawyer. Sometimes this world needs a talented contractor or welder who will return a phone call):

Whether college bound or bound to build/repair/create something with your hands: You need not have your life plans chiseled in stone right now. What do you really need to know at eighteen years old?

How to get out of bed without hitting the snooze button

This is serious.

You’re in your prime (though these are not the best years of your life, trust me)! When that alarm goes off, your boots (figuratively speaking) should be on the ground within 30 seconds. This is how you learn to manage your own schedule and your own time. This is how you learn to make it to your 7:30 lab without your mother busting through your bedroom door yelling that you’re about to miss the bus. Seize the day and the save the snooze for later in life. Like when you’re 31.

How to work for someone else and follow his or her instructions

This is even more serious.

You will never reach your goals if you cannot learn to take instruction. This does not mean that you’re destined to work for someone else your entire life. This means that the ability to follow written or verbal instructions will serve you well when you’re filling out your first job application out of college. It will serve you even better when you’re responsible for pouring decorative concrete at a building destined to bring back the heart of an old American town. This means that your ability to actively engage as part a team will give you an edge when trying to figure out an employee or procedural issue at work. This means that when you learn to respect someone enough to follow their lead knowing that it’s for a greater good, you’ll gain the respect of those around you at the work place, too.

You are enough

This is the most serious of them all.

Maybe you don’t have your major declared, maybe you do.

Maybe you haven’t yet met someone and thought, “They have my dream job”, maybe you have.

Maybe you haven’t determined your living situation for the next six months.

Maybe you’ve already committed to a school or program for the year ahead and you’re already having second thoughts on being that far from home.

Wherever you are on this path to life after high school: you are enough. Where you are right now is enough.

Be confident in all that you are and all that you are yet to be. Is your life’s path written in contractor pencil rather than fine point Sharpie? That’s on purpose. 

God’s plan for your life far exceeds 

anything you can imagine right now!

And while it’s very good for you to have a roadmap of which you’d like to move forward, as a senior in high school don’t let your heart be discouraged because you can’t declare your dream job and describe it on paper. Some forty year olds haven’t even made it that far, yet. Don’t ever discount your 18-year-old self for still exploring all that may lie ahead. Move forward, learn more, get experience under your belt. 

Do you think Columbus discovered America because he had a map?

That was a bad example.

Here. Read this and save it for all the career fairs in your future for which you’ll get a fresh haircut.

As a senior about to graduate you should know three things:

1. How to get out of bed without hitting the snooze button
2. How to work for someone else and follow his or her instructions
3. You are enough 

You have a lot of choices ahead (choices to do the right thing, go the right place, spend time with the right people, and more) and I trust you’ll make the right ones. Your parents haven’t killed you up until this point: make them glad they didn’t!

 And to the stressed out parents calling me freaking out about the internet connection or the kid's indecisiveness to choose a career path: Take a deep breath. This too shall pass. 

Unless you're the parent of the kid who wrote in his application that he's the oldest of eight children. You have every right to be a little edgy with the gal accepting scholarship applications. 

If We Make It Through December

Someone called me last week and they shouldn't have. 

No really. 

It was by accident.

I didn't hear the missed call, but when I found it later that morning I was surprised to see the name in my call log. Though an acquaintance, the caller wasn’t someone that would typically call me. Or even text? So I was even more surprised to see that they left a message.

A long message, at just under three minutes.

Minutes later I was in my car and pulled up the voicemail to review it over Sync – the vehicle’s hands free feature – as I drove. Sync made the caller’s message audible over the sound system of the vehicle, making it easier to listen and drive.

Only seconds into the message filling the interior of my car, it was obvious that the caller hadn’t meant to call me. Like any curious (nosey? bored? curious?) person looking to pass time on the road, I listened through the duration, anyway. The caller moved around a lot. And talked a lot. I think to only themself. And seemed to have a lot on their mind. 

“…just get through this week...” they said in between shuffles.

Amen, I thought to myself. It seems since November I’ve been repeating the same mantra, giving myself a similar pep talk when no one else is around. My theme song has become Haggard’s If We Make It Through December. But honestly, I’ll just be happy to make it through this particular week.

Anyone else feel like that?

If I can just make it through this week…

If I can make this last to my next paycheck…
If I can just hear back from them...

If I can survive this next event…

If I can wait just five more minutes…
If I can survive this shift...
If I can make it through this next semester…

If I can get through one more obligation…

If I can just give them one more chance…

If we can just push a little further, we’ll make it to the other side…

Everything’s gonna be alright, I know.

The trouble is that we always think that we have time. We think that if we can get through some thing in our path, some next step, some big challenge, that our life will begin – or we will begin – after that. But life isn’t meant to be lived that way, by a series of “ifs” and “whens”, marking days off the calendar like it’s some kind of personal feat to become one day closer to the end of a long, exciting ride. When I consider myself hoping that I make it through December (or February?) in that way, I’m actually embarrassed by myself. 

But it’s so easy to do!

The days are long 

but the months are short 

and the years are actually 

a blink.

I didn’t call the pocket dialer back. 

I didn't need to. 

And there wasn't enough time in my day. 

I didn't even give it a second thought. 

What would I say, anyhow?

“Hi. This is Jean. You called me on accident. Last week. I can't believe you have my number because I was surprised that I had your's stored. Anyway,  I (now) know that you’re going through a rough time but I hope you make it through December. Or this February. Or this week. Or, through this voicemail. 

And - hey - thanks for giving me a message to share on the blog this week. You were my inspiration because I really don't think you're alone. In fact, I know you're not. We all have times or experiences that relentlessly drag on. Or drag us. But we make it. We always do. And you will, too. The days are long but the months are short and the years are actually a blink.

And you really should lock your keypad. That's how people get in trouble. Or end up as the subject of blogs.  And – there is a really good chance that in two years you won’t even remember this week of your life that you’re trying so desperately to get through. So hang in there.”

Nah, I didn't call them back 

or even think about it. 

Not even once. 

I wouldn't want to waste their time.