There are no accidents…there is only some purpose that we haven’t yet understood.
- Deepak Chopra


I spend much time, I believe, trying to understand things. The why's of life tend to pique my curiosity. During some of my longer meditative periods I've begun to see that I may not be trying to fully understand anything. I may just be trying to understand why others don't see that my opinion is the right one. Did you laugh? You were supposed to because even if you didn't think I said anything funny, the embarrassment of seeing yourself in that statement should have made you at least chuckle. We laugh unexpectedly as often when we're embarrassed as we do when we're fully engaged in our own amusement at something.

As humans we are all judgemental to one degree or other. I could make fun of the situation in the office on Monday, pointing out how inept the guys I work with really are. I can say it's a man thing and I'm having a little fun with that. In my estimation I am amusing myself. However, at what point does that amusement become something else? Where is the line beyond which something becomes insulting? If any of the men in the office had read my Monday post would they have been insulted? If they had, would I have understood their position or accused them of taking themselves too seriously? Is hate speech considered so because of the speakers intent, or because of the listeners perception?

When asked whether I would choose to be right or to be kind in any given situation, I will tell you that I choose to be kind. However, I am also going to give you an opinion on any given subject, and if my opinion doesn't agree with yours, am I being kind? Did my ego, which creates the desire to be right, interfere with my judgement?

I say I am against hate speech, it has to stop. Crimes are committed because of hate speech. Yet I don't really know at what point I am engaging in hate speech. I believe it is hate when speech creates fear in another person. Hopefully I have never done that, but I can't say that I haven't. I know I've never threatened another human being with bodily harm. I've never used the N word in reference to people of color. I've never used the phrase "towel head" to describe a person who wears a turban. I have said that some Muslims are fanatical in their beliefs, then too, I've said that about some Christians.

I understand that stereotyping, in nature, is a method of self preservation. If an animal is another animals prey, they are equipped with the ability to detect and identify that predator quickly. Mice immediately know a cat when they smell one. My problem with the concept of stereotyping is that we seem to be using it to define other humans. Are you Caucasian or Non-Caucasian? Are you Gay or Straight? Are you Muslim or Christian? Are you a Believer or Nonbeliever? All questions that we might find on any application, whether in life or online. Granted, none of this is intended to be hateful in nature. I do wonder though, if it doesn't automatically lead us to label people and allow the creation of a "them" against "us" mentality? What is essentially a marketing tool may have some unnecessary consequences.

For my part, I am going to try to dispense with all those labels we use and see people as they really are. I am going to try, through various means to rid myself of the tendency to be right, rather than kind. Does this mean I won't be doing any more teasing of the male of the species? Well...sorry guys...some things are just too funny to pass up.

I had to work in the office today. I was the only female employee that showed up, all the guys were there. Every time I had to find someone to ask a question of, they were all huddled together in one of the back offices.



All day I heard, "Sherry, where's this?" or "Sherry do you know what happened to that?" Every single time they found what they were looking for before I got there to show them.



I got done what I needed to get done, and it wasn't easy. At all costs I avoided asking myself "Why". If I had tried to find the answer I might still be sitting at the desk struggling with myself.



You would think that grown men could do what they are supposed to do and let me do my job. I have to handle all the field employees and their difficulties when they happen, not after I find the stapler.



One more day and I may just treat myself to something. Something really soothing, or just something that will give me a good dose of the warm fuzzies.

The Mobile Home by Jim Warren



When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everybody will respect you. Lao-Tzu



Dinner at my brother and sister-in-law's home last evening was interesting to say the least. She doesn't cook, my brother does all the cooking. She doesn't clean either. He does that too, along with working two jobs because she likes to spend money. She works, but her income is being spent on new clothes and gym fees that she has to participate in due to the gastric bypass surgery she had. She's lost 100 pounds since Christmas. She shops at JC Penneys, Macy's, Sears, and Kohls. I find myself asking myself why? She needs to be buying clothes that fit every few weeks, why spend that much money? She could go to the Salvation Army and purchase decent clothing temporarily for a lot less money. Who knows? They might be able to pay the mortgage and taxes without his having to work 2 jobs.

She won't shop for clothes at Target, Walmart or The Salvation Army because someone might see her. Did I miss something here? If "someone" sees her, wouldn't it be because they too are shopping there? Her parents are upper middle class, and she married "beneath" herself as far as they're concerned. I always thought their attitude had something to do with the personality of my Dad, but now I fully understand that she was raised to respect...money and it's trappings. Not who people are, not what they accomplish in life, but how much money they make. I don't think they're alone in that attitude either.

I said that I was raised to respect people based on ethical and moral conduct. Attributes like telling the truth, putting ones best effort into something, not being lazy, not having the attitude that the world owes them a living. Not taking advantage of others, just because they can. Having a sense of loyalty and courage. Not cheating on ones spouse. I was told that my standards were not high enough. I was not giving enough credit to the successful people of the world. Excuse me, I measure success by standards other than money.

What about being successful because you tried something and learned from it? What about being successful because you gave up the rat race and found something you loved? What about allowing that some are successful because they raised a family of honest upright citizens, and they didn't have a lot of money to do that with?

A rather odd relationship has developed between me and my sister-in-law. She feels sorry for me because I don't waste money the way she does, and I feel sorry for her because she's wasting so much money foolishly that they are struggling to pay their bills. We are completely opposite people, we measure respect by entirely different criteria. We also recognize in each other that despite our differences we have the same capacity to love others even if they are different.

I live in a mobile home in a manner which allows me to pay all our bills on time. She lives in a house that they are having difficulty making the payments on. I wouldn't trade my life for hers at any time and I'm sure she feels the same way about me. She couldn't live in a mobile home, someone might find out about it or see her or something.

The traditional wedding ring of the Irish since the 17th Century, the Claddagh ring is worn by people all over the world as a symbol of love, loyalty, friendship and fidelity.

Handed down from mother to daughter, the Claddagh ring is a symbol of the ties with the past and Irish generations gone by. The Irish people remember the many of their ancestors who had to leave Ireland with nothing but their lives during the Great Famine of the 19th Century. The gold Claddagh ring was to become, for many, the only enduring link with their home country and practically their only savings and family inheritance.

An original symbol of the "Fisher Kings" of the Galway town of Claddagh, Ireland, (pronounced clada) the design was first fashioned into the traditional ring back in the 17th Century during the reign of Mary II.



Legend has it that an Irish young man, Richard Joyce, bound for the West Indian slave plantations, was kidnapped by a band of Mediterranean pirates. He was said to have been sold to a Moorish goldsmith who over the many long years of his exile helped him perfect the skills of a master craftsman. When in 1689 King William III negotiated the return of the slaves, Joyce returned to Galway despite the Moor's offer of his daughter's hand in marriage and a princely dowry of half of all his wealth.

Back in Ireland a young woman had never stopped faithfully waiting for her true love to return. He presented her with the Royal Claddagh gold ring as a symbol of their enduring love. Two hands to represent their friendship, the crown to signify their loyalty and lasting fidelity, and the sign of the heart to symbolise their eternal love for each other. They married, never to be separated again.

The hands, heart and crown of the Claddagh is found today in many different mediums. Jewelry, stained glass, appliqued or printed on T-Shirts, hats and other wearing apparel. More common in American St. Patricks Day decorations is the shamrock, but the true symbol of Ireland is the Claddagh. It is such a beloved symbol that hands and heart portion of the Claddagh, without the crown, was the symbol used by the Fenians during their uprising.



My Great Great Grandfather Owen arrived in America a few years before the Great Famine. Yesterday, after he read my blog post about his father, my Uncle called me. He has finally found the names of Owen's parents and what part of Ireland they actually came from. He was the first and only member of our family, the descendants of James and Bridget McM. to return to the birthplace of our ancestors. At that time he was unable to discover the additional information that he now has. His trip was not entirely fruitless because among my collection of jewelry is the Royal Claddagh brooch he bought for me in Ireland. The traditional Irish symbol for Friendship, Loyalty and Love.



Irish Toasts

May you be in heaven half an hour
before the devil knows your dead.



May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night, and a smooth road all the way to your door.



May the roof above you never fall in,
And those gathered beneath it never fall out.



Here's to health, peace and prosperity. May the flower of love never be nipped by the frost of disappointment, nor shadow of grief fall among your family and friends.



May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings, slow to make enemies and quick to make friends. And may you know nothing but happiness from this day forward.



May your home always be too small to hold all your friends.

I had made the comment to Anexplorer, when he began his postings on his geneological research, that the problem was it sometimes raised more questions than it did answers. I also said that I would post the one unanswered question that has intrigued me regarding the research my Uncle did into our family ancestry when he finished his posts.

My Grandfather William McM. died when I was just about a year old. The only knowledge I had of him growing up were these snippets of information.

1. He was from Rhode Island where his father owned a prosperous hotel.

2. He was raised as a Catholic but had turned from the church because a priest would not leave a horse race to administer last rites to my great grandfather as he lay dying.

3. He left Rhode Island and traveled after the death of his father because his step-mother cheated him out of his inheritance. He would have been 16 or 17 when he left. I also saw his WW1 enlistment papers where he gives next of kin as Mrs. Josephine McM of Riverpoint, Rhode Island and states step-mother on the form where it asks for relationship to the enlistee.

There are, of course, my own conclusions regarding who he was as a man, based on other things I learned about his personality and they aren't germaine to the issue of ancestry except my conclusion that quite possibly he and the truth were not well acquainted.

Geneological research verified that my great grandfather was the proprietor of the Riverpoint Hotel. Riverpoint is now part of Warwick, RI and the building no longer exists. However a page for a Chamber of Commerce publication of the 19th century did indicate that it was quite popular. There exists also a picture of Grandfather taken shortly before the death of his father. It shows him behind the bar of the hotel. He would have been 15 or 16, which at that time was old enough to work as a bartender.

Research disclosed through the 1900 US census that William lived with his father Michael and Josephine and was about 2 years old at that time. Uncle could find no birth certificate. Great grandfather married Josephine 6 years or so prior to that census. She was still married to great grandfather upon his death. Great grandfather and Josephine would have been married 4 years before the birth of my grandfather, yet he claimed Josephine was his step-mother. He claimed his mothers name was Elizabeth. Hanky panky? Some sort of lie? Who knows?

We have a picture of the monument located on the gravesite of Michael and Josephine McM. It clearly shows that a third party was provided for. The statement on the front of the monument is..."Their son William". We do not know if the monument was purchased at the time of Great Grandfathers death, or was it taken care of before hand by Great grandfather himself? If after his death, that wording would have been requested by Josephine, the supposed step-mother.

I am inclined towards the lie. Not because of any problem with illegitimacy, but because Josephines middle name is Elizabeth. He did receive a portion of his inheritance. Sometime during the 1930's he and my grandmother made a trip to his home and they came away somewhat richer than when they went. My Grandmother's opinion of Josephine was that she was a cold woman, not very welcoming although she did make an effort towards Grandma.

I believe that my Grandfather was charming and irresponsible and as I said before...not well acquainted with the truth. If a will existed it would have left everything to his Mother as he wasn't considered an adult. Sad that he should have been so angry that he tried to disown the woman I believe actually was his mother. However, I wasn't there so I don't really know what the full story was. Just one more question that will never be answered. Something we never would have known without geneological research. Don't you just hate that?