The People Willing to Raise Their Hand

It’s easy to sit in our living rooms, scroll social media, and complain about our government. We complain about roads, schools, taxes, regulations, crime, and the direction of our communities. We talk about what should change and how someone ought to fix it.

But then election time comes around, and most of us vote for the same people over and over again and expect different results.

The truth is, holding public office is hard work. It’s long meetings, endless phone calls, criticism from every direction, and decisions that make one group happy while making another group angry. It’s missed family time, constant scrutiny, and carrying the weight of thousands of opinions on your shoulders.

And it takes courage to even run in the first place.

You have to put your name, your reputation, and sometimes your family in the public eye. You have to be willing to have strangers judge your motives, criticize your past, and pick apart your every decision before you’ve even won the election.

Most people aren’t willing to do that.

Whether you agree with a candidate or not, there is something admirable about anyone who raises their hand and says, “I’m willing to serve. I’m willing to try. I’m willing to be held accountable.”

Real change rarely happens by complaining from the sidelines. It requires people willing to step into the arena and communities willing to consider new ideas and new voices.

If we keep electing the same people and expecting different outcomes, we shouldn’t be surprised when nothing changes.

Democracy asks two things of us: the courage to run and the willingness to thoughtfully choose who leads. Neither is easy. But both matter.

My Daddy Would Have Been 94 Today!

My daddy would have been 93 years old today.

It’s funny how someone can be gone for years, yet you still find yourself thinking about them, hearing their voice in your head, or wishing you could pick up the phone and tell them something.

My daddy was one of those people.

When I was a teenager, all my friends thought he was handsome. Of course, back then I rolled my eyes about it because that’s what teenage daughters do. But they were right. He was handsome. He had that easy smile and kind eyes that made people feel comfortable around him.

As he got older, he would laugh and say he looked like Santa Claus. The white hair, the beard, the twinkle in his eye—he wasn’t wrong. But what made him truly resemble Santa wasn’t how he looked. It was who he was. He was kind, generous, patient, and always willing to help someone who needed it.

He was also one of the hardest-working men I’ve ever known. He believed in showing up, doing the job right, and taking care of his family. He didn’t need recognition or applause. He simply did what needed to be done because that’s who he was.

Looking back now, I realize how much of what I value came from watching him. The importance of hard work. The importance of keeping your word. The importance of being kind even when nobody is watching.

The older I get, the more I appreciate the lessons he taught without ever having to say much.

I miss him. I miss his laugh, his stories, and the comfort of knowing he was always there. But mostly, I miss being his little Rinkydink.

Happy 93rd Birthday, Daddy.

You were loved more than you ever knew, and you are missed more than words can say.

Somebody has to do the work

I don’t understand this idea that people shouldn’t have to work. Every single thing we enjoy exists because somebody got up in the morning and did a job. Somebody built the roads, grew the food, picked up the trash, stocked the shelves, built the houses, taught the kids, and kept the lights on.

People act like because America is already built, it will somehow keep running on its own. It won’t. Everything has to be maintained, repaired, replaced, and preserved. That requires work.

Life isn’t supposed to be a walk through a garden, tiptoeing through the tulips while everyone else pays your way. You’re supposed to contribute. You’re supposed to get up and do something. That’s how you appreciate what you have and how you gain pride in what you’ve earned.

I also don’t understand the idea that everyone should be their own boss and nobody should have to answer to anyone. If everyone owned a business, who would have the money to buy from those businesses? Society works because people fill different roles and depend on each other.

And no, I don’t think able-bodied adults should expect other taxpayers to support them while they choose not to contribute. People can give back in many ways—through a job, volunteering, mentoring, helping family, or serving their community. Everyone can contribute something.

Maybe this is my Gen X talking, but I was raised to believe that if you want something, you work for it. If you want a better life, you build it. And if you’re capable of contributing but choose not to, don’t expect everyone else to carry your load.

Somebody has to do the work. Otherwise, everything stops.

 

What the Hell Happened to My Eyebrows?

I knew getting older came with a few surprises.

I expected wrinkles. I expected random aches and pains that show up for no reason and stay longer than houseguests. I expected reading glasses. What I did not expect was for my eyebrows to quietly pack their bags and leave without so much as a goodbye note.

Seriously. What happened?

I didn’t shave them off during a wild phase in the ‘90s. Or pluck them into thin lines. (like the 90210 days). I’ve never been aggressive with eyebrow maintenance! Yet here I am, standing in front of the mirror, wondering if my eyebrows entered the Witness Protection Program. One day they were there, and the next they were so light I could barely find them.

And while I am on this rampage... WHY are new hairs popping up on my chin? It’s like my eyebrows are relocating to other parts of my face. Apparently, my body looked at the situation and said, “We’re moving the hair budget to another department.” I did not approve that transfer. What the hell?!

The good news is I’ve reached an age where I don’t panic about things like this anymore. Most women won’t leave the house without putting on lipstick. I won’t leave until I’ve drawn on a pair of eyebrows.

I am starting to laugh about it, but if anyone sees my missing eyebrows wandering around out there somewhere, tell them I’m looking for them. I’d really like them back.