Blog Archives - trish hermanson

My Old Friend Took a Tumble

11/25/2019

My old friend Terry took a tumble that left all of us - including him - speechless. Terry was like a big brother to me when we were teenagers, an affable guy always quick with words. Three years ahead of me in school, he pursued a degree in journalism, and when I reached the same college, I did, too.
     I was shocked when I heard Terry tripped down a flight of stairs and suffered a traumatic brain injury. After four hours of surgery, he struggled to communicate. He had trouble finding his words.    What did Terry want to say?
     If this had happened to me, what would I want to say?
     What would I wish I had said to those around me before I no longer could?    Over time, Terry’s speech has improved. And because of his fall, I’ve thought about how easy it is for me to speak with others. With little thought and just a few words, I can build them up or tear them down. This has prompted me to want to say simple, but important, things to them like:
     “Thank you.”
     “You’re great.”
     “You’re valuable.”
     “I love you.”
     I’ve already contacted two people I hadn’t spoken with for decades, and our communication was rich. Now I’m thinking that perhaps around the Thanksgiving table we can tell each person how much they mean to each other.
  That might leave us speechless.

Mr. Rogers, Make Believe & My Family

11/18/2019

It seems like only yesterday that our girls lived in Mr. Rogers’ land of make believe, and now Tom Hanks is portraying the TV icon in a movie. Mr. Rogers was a hero in our household. I remember when our youngest was just two and her emotions exploded. She stomped upstairs, stood on the landing, and announced, “I hate everybody! I even hate Mr. Rogers!” She marched into her bedroom and slammed the door.
      She quickly emerged with shame on her face and a whisper in her voice. “I didn’t mean what I said about Mr. Rogers.” She couldn’t hate the man who embodied good. Then she retreated to her bedroom to sort out what to do with all the mad she felt toward the rest of us.
     My daughters have blossomed into strong women. I like them just the way they are as they face life’s realities while keeping their rich imaginations. Mr. Rogers has left his land of make believe, passing into the perfect realm he always envisioned. He was disillusioned near the end of his life. Even with his powerful message of kindness, the world had grown worse. I think that’s because we need something more than good attitudes and good intentions. We need new hearts, what the historic Jesus described as being “born again.”
  That’s because beautiful as it is, make believe isn’t enough.

Learning to Put Down the Ducky

11/14/2019

My grandson Joel showed me his collection of rubber duckies, and I confess: as an adult I once bought a rubber ducky when life was overwhelming and I needed a squeaky little friend for security.
     Which is why I smiled when I heard that “Sesame Street” is celebrating its fiftieth birthday. This PBS gem gave my girls and me songs for all occasions when they were little. Like singing “C Is for Cookie” while pulling steaming morsels out of the oven. Or belting out Oscar the Grouch’s “I Love Trash” as we collected ours.
     Recently I’ve been thinking about Ernie, who realized he had to “Put Down the Ducky” in order to learn to play the saxophone. I wonder if I have any duckies I’m clinging to that keep me from taking on new opportunities. Am I holding onto old securities? Or activities I might need to drop to make room for fresh possibilities?
     Clinical psychologist Dr. Henry Cloud calls this making “necessary endings.” When I’m willing to put down those duckies, I’m free to move into sunny days sweeping the clouds away - that's how we get to “Sesame Street.”
How about you? Holding onto any rubber duckies?

How Did God Become a Swear Word?

11/7/2019

Why did we start to say “Oh my God” as an exclamation of shock or surprise, rather than invoking something like “Oh my Gordon” or “Oh my Gladys”? Is it because we don’t believe in him, so what does it matter? But if God doesn’t exist, why use his name as the most powerful word there is to express shock or surprise? And why say “MY God,” claiming God is yours if he doesn’t exist?
     Here’s another oddity. We say “God damn” to express anger. Are we asking God to condemn someone to eternal punishment in hell? Even if we don’t believe in God or hell, that’s a strong image. Do we really want to channel our rage to that depth?
     I wonder if we use God’s name flippantly because there’s no sense of awe left in us. No reverence because nothing is sacred. We no longer view ourselves as souls, just minds and bodies.
     That’s a tragedy because deep inside us, we know we are so much more. We’re not simply atoms and energy that eventually wear out. We are hopes and hurts, dreams and desires. We thirst for love. And here’s the incredible news - the God who created the universe is so enamored with us he stepped onto Earth as Jesus and still rings our doorbells and asks, “Wanna do lunch?
     That’s a God whose name is worth being awestruck about.