Blog Archives - trish hermanson

When Your Dreams Burn Up

6/29/2018

I spotted these charred remains of a car in front of a house that was reduced to ashes. Someone’s dream home on an island off the Gulf Coast gone up in smoke in a few scorching minutes.
I’ve had dreams turn to ashes, too. My dream of being a great singer - my voice didn’t cooperate with that. My dream of buying a house on a hill with a mountain view - the real estate market didn’t cooperate with that.
     Other dreams have come true. The dream of having a family - my husband willingly cooperated in the process. The dream of owning a red Miata convertible - it was a blast until I decided I’d better sell it before I got stuck inside and we had to use a crane to extricate me.
     Some of my dreams weren’t worth pursuing. They were like the New Yorker cartoon I saw in which one woman tells another, “I got what I wanted, but it’s not what I wanted.” Reality didn’t live up to the dreaminess.
     Life’s a tightrope walk - the tension between striving and gratitude. I don’t always navigate the tightrope gracefully.
  But a friend reminded me that this life isn’t the entire script. It’s only the first act in a never ending production where the best of dreams may come true in the second act.

Fighting the Fear of First Impressions

6/22/2018

Sometimes these days I’m a jumble of jitters because I’m meeting lots of new people and first impressions leave lasting impressions, right? I don’t want to blow it.
     So here’s a new person. I suck in a deep breath, tentatively offer my hand, and ask the woman her name. Now will I remember it?
     A week later I see her again and don’t. “I’m still Trish.” I say awkwardly, “and you’re still….?”
     She reintroduces herself. We make small talk. But nothing meaningful happens.
     I remind myself of a motto I’ve drilled into my core: “In this situation, I have nothing to hide, nothing to seek, nothing to prove.” When I remember that, I forget the posturing and pretenses.
     We make more small talk, but still nothing happens. Then I think about the wisdom of John Maxwell: “People never care how much you know until they know how much you care.” So I ask her a question.
     Now something marvelous occurs - we find a connection.    And as Rick Blaine speculated at the end of the movie “Casablanca,” I wonder whether this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
  I hope so.

My Obituary?

6/15/2018

When I worked as a reporter, the tough but important task of writing obituaries sometimes fell upon me. Tough because it was unpleasant to think about death, yet important because I was compiling a summary of a person’s life.
     We journalists sometimes joked about writing our own obits: “After grabbing a coffee, Trish Hermanson was crossing Main Street when a beer truck hit her, wasting the beer, the coffee, and her.” Bizarre humor, I know, but meant to lighten the responsibility of the work.
     I recently had the toughest writing assignment ever, composing the obituary for my six-year-old granddaughter who died suddenly from an unknown cause. But Lydia’s well-lived life made it easier. She had created a legacy for all of us to sit up and take notice.
     That got me thinking about what I’d be remembered for. Would it be because I was somebody’s daughter, somebody’s mother, somebody’s employee? What is my life work anyway? How do I want to be remembered?
     “Our words and deeds are how we are remembered,” says author Jeff Goins. “What we say and what we do matters. We may not control our circumstances, but we can control how we respond to the world around us.”
  Thinking of it that way, I realize I’m writing my obituary every day.

Not a Piece of Cake

6/8/2018

   Jack Phillips’s life hasn’t been a piece of cake. Since he turned down a job to design a wedding cake for a homosexual couple, he’s been threatened to be shot in the head or ripped apart with a machete. That doesn’t fit with the Jack I know, a quiet baker in my neighborhood. When we needed a cake for a special birthday, I visited him at his obscure shop where Jack listened attentively to my wishes. Then he meticulously fashioned a moist carrot cake with rich cream cheese frosting that melted in our mouths. A masterpiece.
   That’s Jack’s aim - to please customers. When developing a couple’s nuptial cake, he “discusses their preferences, their personalities, and the details of their wedding to ensure that each cake reflects the couple who ordered it,” the U.S. Supreme Court noted in its decision this week regarding Jack.
     When a homosexual couple asked Jack for a wedding cake, he says he didn’t turn them down, but turned down the event. He offered to produce something for another occasion or sell them anything else in the store. Why? Because Jack is among those who - not wanting to trample on anyone’s civil rights - believe that marriage is inherently an opposite-sex union. Jack’s not alone. Millions of conservative Christians, Jews, and Muslims embrace this belief.
     Should their religious rights be squashed in the name of civil rights? The U.S. Supreme Court said “no.” The state must respect the beliefs of people of faith.
     This meshes with our forefathers’ vision of liberty and justice for all, where artists like Jack have the freedom to practice their skills and their religion as they see fit.
     There’s plenty of room for both civil rights and religious freedoms under our big, pluralistic American tent.
     ***
     Image from Masterpiece Cakeshop website with text added.

How Long Is Your Trail?

6/1/2018

After I wrote about signs that made me chuckle, some readers responded with their favorites: Stan said that a huge truck stop sign in Missouri announces “Clean Restrooms. Kids Eat Free.”
     Rachel said that when she lived in China, a sign in English in a grocery aisle announced “Inflated Food.” The section was filled with puffy bags of chips and other snacks.
Mary told me about a Florida church sign designed to keep people from parking in a certain area: “Thou shalt not park.”
     Ruth wrote about a Colorado mountain pass sign: “Watch for Avalanches.” Are we supposed to stand there and wait for one?
     I noticed a restaurant named “Re-combobulate” in a Washington port town for those who had just stepped onshore and were trying to get their land legs back.
     One sign in my neighborhood always offended me: “Slow Children.” How dare they say that about my kids.
     A fence company sign: “Love Your Neighbor, But Don’t Take Down the Fence.”
     And a discouraging marker along a path my daughter and granddaughters encountered: “Too Long Trail.”
     I hope your trails are never too long, and that you find plenty of humor along the way. For more laughs, check out my children’s book that discloses the key to developing a positive self image. “Hooty McTooty Discovers True Beauty” takes kids and adults on a wild ride with a chicken who thinks a makeover will change her life. “Hooty” is geared for preschool through third grade and is available here. It’s free for Kindle Unlimited members.

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