About a month ago, I went to Chicago on a business trip. It was just overnight and my schedule was such that I really only needed an extra shirt, a pair of panties, and toiletries. I usually check a bag when I fly but I was packing so light, why not carry on? So I abandoned my standard packing system.
Instead of packing the toiletry case I always take, I tucked my liquids into a clear, ziplock bag and the rest of my essentials into a Clinique pouch (free to customers who spend $30 or more as part of their Spring promotion 🙂 ). Everything went into a backpack.
That night at the Hilton as I was getting ready for bed, I couldn’t find my contact solution. This is what happens when you abandon your standard packing system.
I called the front desk and the manager informed me the gift shop was closed, however, there was a 7-Eleven just a block away. Sigh. I put my clothes back on, took the elevator to the lobby, trudged the block to the 7-Eleven, charged a travel size of saline solution, and exited the shop.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any cash. All I have is a credit card.”
He touched the brim of his baseball cap. I kid you not. “Well then, that’s all right. Don’t ye worry ’bout it. I thank ye. Ye looked me in the eye. Ye gave me respect. I thank ye.”
So here’s what I think about on Mother’s Day. Where was that man’s family? Why was he alone, living on the streets, begging for money? He didn’t seem any older than me. Where was his mother? When his mind slipped or he turned to drink, when he couldn’t hold down a job, when he failed to be the son she’d hoped he’d be, did she disown him? Did she refuse to take his calls or allow him into her home? Ok, maybe she’s no longer living. What about his siblings? What about children? Nieces? Nephews? Cousins? Where are they? Did they all just decide he wasn’t worth the trouble? That he didn’t fit into the picture of how they wanted their lives to be?
This morning at church, Steve talked about how when God told Moses who He was, the first word He used to describe Himself was compassionate. The Hebrew word translated as “compassionate” actually means “womb-like”. The safest, most loved you and I have ever felt was in the womb. Steve went on to say that God loves us not because we earned it but simply because we exist. Like a mother loves her unborn child before she even knows him or her. Steve said a mother’s love may be the closest model of God’s love that we see on this earth.
Sadly, that is not the case for all of us. We grew up in homes where love was a commodity. Something we had to earn. Some of us strived for decades in hopes of securing our mother’s love. Some of us are still striving. Some of us gave up a long, long time ago. Some of us thought we had attained it only to realize it was never permanent. Like a paycheck, we had to work for it day in and day out.
Some of us succeeded in life despite never having gained our mother’s love. Some of us were all but destroyed. Some of us lost our minds. Some of us tried to comfort ourselves with substances. Some of us ended up on the streets. Like that man in Chicago. Maybe it’s not his mother’s fault. But one thing I know for sure. If someone had chosen to love him, simply because he existed, he wouldn’t be homeless.
Some of us are handing down that same legacy to our kids, teaching them love has to be earned because that’s the way we experienced it.
I refuse to pass on that legacy to anyone. I dare you to join me.
Photo credit: Dustin Diaz / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
Consider this an object lesson and the object is—wait for it—panties. That’s right. I’m going to present you with several panty photos and get your impression of the woman who might wear them. We’ll see how close you come to the actual truth about the wearer. I know, this is a little odd, even for me, but there is a point and I promise to keep things PG-rated. So let’s begin.
A little skimpy, right? Cute little snowflake but given the G-string, is cute what this wearer is really going for? She’s likely twenty-something, maybe playing the field, or maybe in a relationship where she wants to be prepared for anything. She’s comfortable with her body. She’s playful, sexy but wants to communicate a touch of innocence.
Interesting but . . . WRONG. So a little tricky because there is NO wearer as these have never been worn. As for the intended wearer, well, that would be me, and yes, I’ll pause for a minute while you get back up off the floor, gain control of yourself, and stop laughing. There. Feel better?
So the story here is I used to buy bra’s at Victoria’s Secret and I joined their Angel Rewards program. As an Angel, I was entitled to a free panty every month. A deal right? Weellllllll, if you’re 15 maybe. Turns out the free ones aren’t designed for those of us who like a little more coverage.
Also, turns out the free panty is just a marketing ploy to entice you to visit the store. Yeah, I should have seen that coming. So I wised up and exercised my right to just say no. My husband, on the other hand, not so much. “But its FREE,” he kept telling me and when I refused to budge, he made the trip to Victoria’s —on my behalf—or so he said, not that I doubt him. Okay, maybe a little. Anyhoo, this was the last pair he brought home and while I’m flattered that he thinks these would look good on me, let’s get real. Hahahahahahaha. NEVER g-o-i-n-g t-o h-a-p-p-e-n.
Hmmm. Practical, cotton hipsters. Not sexy but then not exactly granny panties either. Pastel color. Could be for a little girl but wait. Is that a vanishing edge I see? Ah. These belong to a working woman, a no non-sense gal – a sales person or a school teacher – someone who doesn’t need the distraction of panty lines. Not likely a very attractive woman. Probably not sexually active. Or if she is, she and her partner are REALLY comfortable together because she doesn’t feel the need to impress with te-niny triangles of satin and lace.
Better, but still WRONG. Again, these are mine—see the pattern forming? And yes, these are my goto everyday panty. And while it’s true, I AM a working woman, I buy the Soma vanishing edge brand more as a, eh-hem, health conscious consumer. They’re Oz-approved, you know. That’s Dr. Oz, THE leading expert on all things health (and don’t tell me you don’t DVR him) and according to his extremely important episode, uh, scientific research, on cellulite prevention, these panties are the way to go. True to the name, they virtually eliminate panty lines, so you were right about that, and there’s no elastic in the legs allowing better blood flow and less fat cell accumulation. So don’t judge me. “Not a very attractive woman,” humph. Let’s be a little more considerate on this next pair, shall we?
Uh, right. Spanx. Obviously for a woman who’s a half-size larger than some of her clothes. NOT comfortable with her body. Maybe has a muffin-top she needs to camouflage. Could be any age really but likely younger since she still cares how she looks. Probably single because, again, still cares how she looks.
My, you ARE cynical today. Might I suggest a second cup of Joe? As for this pair, your guess is as good as mine. Never seen them before in my life. Really. Have absolutely no idea about the kind of woman who would wear these. If I had to guess, mind you I really don’t know anything about them, but if I had to, I’d say these were worn by a fashion-forward lady with a special dress for a special occasion like maybe her 40th birthday or perhaps, 25th wedding anniversary? But then I’d only be guessing . . .
And now for the last photo. That’s right, there are NO panties here. What kind of woman wears no panties at all? My mother would say a slut, a hooker, a prostitute, a “ho” (although I believe the politically correct term might be “pleasure technician”). A woman with no morals. A party girl, a stripper, a playboy bunny. Need I go on?
But wait. Let’s think this one through. What about a homeless woman? She’s living on the street with only the clothes on her back and let’s face it, panties wear out. Do shelters provide underwear in their clothes closets? Many do not. What about a lady at a battered women’s shelter who fled for her life and left all her belongings behind? What about a single mom at the rescue mission who’s trying to get back on her feet? What about the skads of low-income females who do their clothes shopping at Goodwill and Salvation Army stores? When was the last time you donated undergarments to these stores?
Never. And that’s the point. No one does.
So why am I posting photos of my panties online? I want to start a panty raid.
I had an ah-ha moment two years ago as I was packing my sister’s clothes for her move to Durham. I was surprised to find she didn’t own a single pair of panties. When I asked why, she said, “You can’t buy them at thrift stores and I’d rather spend my money on groceries.” So now, every Christmas, one of the gifts she gets from me is panties and bra’s.
And, as we’re now steadily approaching the holidays, I’d like to enlist your help. Won’t you join me by raiding your local department store this month and donating NEW bra’s and panties to your local shelter, rescue mission, GoodWill or Salvation Army? You don’t have to purchase at Victoria’s Secret, or Soma, or Spanx. Target and Walmart have perfectly good underwear at reasonable prices. Consider this a special Christmas project. Or a non-random act of kindness. Or a tangible means of linking arms with your sisters nationwide. And don’t forget, your sisters come in all sizes 😉