HOME for the Holidays...

"She'd sped out of town without turning around

She had to get away.  

Twenty years later she'd find her way...Back home."

excerpt from Home by Dorothy C. LeBlanc

I suppose I was a typical teenager.  Midway through my senior year of high school, I seriously started the countdown of months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds...until I would move out of my parents' home and be an independent college student!  Had we lived on a gravel road, I dare say that our neighbors would still remember the cloud of dust that overtook the neighborhood as I pulled out of the driveway, into my future.  I thought I could handle anything that the world sent my way.  I had no idea.  Who does?

Life threw me a serious curve ball several years back, and it conflicted with my husband's plans.  (I won't say where he was planning to go, but it rhymes with 'wishing'.)  Before he left to go 'wishing', he dropped me off at my parents' house with my young son in tow...and said he'd pick us up when he got back.  Simple as that.  I was uprooted from my adult, self-made home, and handed back to my parents for 4 or 5 days.  

I had been 4 months pregnant, and the baby had died in utero.  I needed somewhere to recuperate from the D&C...and from the cruel loss.  As badly as I needed to be nurtured, I was worried that my young son and I wouldn't fit into the routine of my childhood home.  My parents lovingly took their adult daughter and her child into their home, and into their hearts. 

That weekend,  I learned how to appreciate my mom and dad from the perspective of a grown woman, not as a child.  They were there for me.  They fed me and helped me take care of my 2-year-old.  We laughed together, we cried together, they helped me heal.  Five days later, I cried as my son and I slowly backed out of the driveway to head home.   

I know that, for some of you, holidays often bring stressful family dynamics to light.   That said, I would love to be able to go "home for the holidays" and see my mom and dad again...but they're both deceased.  For me, going home for a few days at such a tough time, planted the seed for the new relationship I would have with both of them into their twilight years.  

I'd be honored if you'd watch my video of this special song I wrote about my story called  "Home".  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiK4LIHbodc&feature=youtu.be

Until next blog post, peace and love to you...dorothy

SEPARATION ANXIETY...and wait, DIDN'T WE USED TO START SCHOOL AFTER LABOR DAY?

The answer to the above question is a resounding YES.  In the 1960s and '70s, there were three glorious, hot summer months, filled with friends, summer camp, swimming lessons, crafting, visiting the bookmobile, playing basketball, and using our imaginations.  Oh, and not to forget the merit badges worked on and earned by my brother and his scout friends...and the Camp Fire Girl honor beads I earned with a vengence during free-flowing summer months.

First days of school each year were exciting (and terrifying) for me.  I can remember, even in the earliest grades, looking in the mirror and saying, "This is the year I'm going to be liked.  This is the year I'll fit in.  This is the year I'll be the person that people wanna hang out with...".  And every year, after the first day of school, I thought, "I bet next year will be my year."  That said, there was something even more pressing on my mind in kindergarten and first grade...

I was the baby in a family filled with love and kindness.  I do not remember my mother EVEN ONCE raising her voice at us.  I had never even heard a raised voice, until I went to school.  The nuns at my first elementary school in Stillwater, Oklahoma were loud-speaking, easily exasperated women.  At least my first grade teacher was.  My mother recalled that Sister whatever-her-name-was scheduled an appointment with her, complaining that I would shake like a leaf every time she came near me.  I constantly complained of a sore throat (brought on my tension and nerves) and the doctor finally gave me a placebo to take every day, that my mom had to bring to school at lunch, to get me to stay for the whole day.  WOW, RIGHT?  I was terrified of that nun, and the world outside of my home! 

But what if I had been a PRESCHOOLER?  Granted, not all children are as protected as I was in my little world as a child.  That said, I've worked as a preschool musician at Baton Rouge early learning centers for the better part of eleven years, and I can tell you that some kids just have a hard time letting go of mom and dad...and some moms and dads have an even harder time letting go of their little ones. 

I wrote this song, "Time to Play", about separation anxiety, from a different perspective.  Please watch this PRECIOUS video song, filmed, edited and produced by Daniel Lee of Boonelight Productions.  In case you're wondering, that is the producer himself on lead guitar and pizza box percussion!  Another special thank you to the children, teachers and parents of the Child Development Cooperative in Baton Rouge, LA, for starring in my lil video song.  Please pass this on to parents, grandparents, teachers...just pass it on to everybody, because it's really precious (I know I already said that) and it will make your day...Here's the link!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2x1Y69vsGyY 

Wishing all of you a great rest-of-summer and an easy back-to-school transition for kids and parents alike!  Until next blog, peace and love to you...dorothy

graduation and the art of letting go

It's mid-May, 2014.  I can wake up in the morning these days, and my little red Honda Fit is no longer covered with pollen.  The temperatures are warming up, and the rain seems to have died down. I've noticed another familiar mid-May occurrence.  Mixed in with the bills and sales fliers and general correspondence, we've begun to receive graduation invitations from high school and college seniors, wanting to share their accomplishment (and hoping to score a little cash in the process).  They look a lot like the invitations I sent out in 1975 when I graduated from high school. 39 years ago.  Unbelievable, yet I digress.

Seniors are excited, fearless, ready to take on the world.  I know I was.  I absolutely do remember my excitement on moving day, ready to make a college dorm my home.  Time to stand up on my own two feet, without my parents on the sideline to rescue me when I fell flat on my face.  I was SO ready!  I never once thought about my parents in this equation...How did it feel as they watched me drive off, knowing that I would not be at breakfast the next morning, or maybe ever again?  As a 56-year-old mom of 2 grown sons, I've gained an appreciation for my own parents...and for the art of letting go.

Okay, admittedly, I was reluctant to let go of my kids.  I didn't always show it, but I was a twisted-up mess inside.  Had I taught them all they needed to know to take on the world, without me?  Would they survive?  I had so many scenarios playing out in my mind...anticipating that I'd failed them, and that I needed them under my parental umbrella just a wee bit longer.  

NOTE TO PARENTS:  Not to sound unfeeling or uncaring, but here's what I found.  "Out of sight, out of mind" held a lot of credence for me.  At some point, you realize that they ARE handling their lives.  They no longer NEED you.  You've done your job...and now it's time for them to do theirs.  That was a hard one to swallow...they no longer NEEDED me.  But I survived and you will, too!  I became a songwriter and performing musician when my kids left the home.  Not bad, right?

NOTE TO STUDENTS:  Cut your parents some slack...If they hover a bit (or even a lot) it's because they love you.  They've been in your shoes and they know your road may be rocky...Be patient with them, okay?

As a songwriter, I love to reflect on moments like these.  I would be honored for you to follow the link to my song, Wander, and give it a listen.  It's about love and letting go, in any loving relationship, but I guess I felt it most strongly in May 2003 and May 2005.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUzLpPxufJI

And one more thing:
NOTE TO MY PARENTS:  I wish I could tell you I'm sorry if I was insensitive as I struck out to find my own way.  You guys did an amazing job of letting me wander...

until next blog, peace and love
dorothy