Kids – FROM THE SHOE

And the Oscar Goes To…

The best 2023 Stories and Performances From the Shoe

Live from sunny Antioch, California is the 2023 From The Shoe Oscars. Twenty Twenty-Three was an exceptional year at the Shoe. Dramatic as well as comedic stories and performances abound. The industry here at the Shoe has undergone many changes and those changes are reflected in last year’s stories.

The Best Actress category is filled with spectacular and moving performances. The nominees for Best Actress are:

Donna Fentanes “Let Me Know”
Eleanor Fentanes “Bruh!”
Esperanza Fentanes “You Don’t Need to Know”
Eloisa Fentanes “A Friend From Work”
Evangelina Fentanes “Nevermind”

And the FTS Oscar goes to…Donna Fentanes for her patient, understated and restrained performance in “Let Me Know”. Congratulations, Donna!

Though the Best Actor category is a little sparse, it, nonetheless, comprises strong and impactful performances including a memorable performance by wunderkind, Peyton Carter. The nominees for Best Actor are:

Elias Fentanes “Mom, I’m a Full Grown Man”
Evaristo Fentanes “The Eighty Hour Work Week”
Peyton Carter “I Don’t Wanna…”

And the FTS Oscar goes to…Elias Fentanes for his consistent, strong and determined performance in “Mom, I’m a Full Grown Man”. Congratulations, Elias!

The nominees for Best Picture are:

“Almost Untethered” by Donna Fentanes. Critically acclaimed, “Almost Untethered” is about a former middle-aged woman’s emotional ups and downs as her children fly the emotional nest while still living with her physically.

“Working Girl” by Eleanor Fentanes. Underscoring the plight of Gen Z, “Working Girl” is about a young 20-ish woman who embarks on a 40 hour work week and experiences the emotional and physical ups and downs of working full time as well as enjoying the financial benefits of earning one’s own money.

“Cat Lady” by Esperanza Fentanes. Sympathetic with cat lovers, “Cat Lady” explores the emotional ups and downs of a 20-something young woman as she juggles work, school and her two cats who wreck havoc on her life.

“Travels with Mario & Luigi” by Elias Fentanes. Adrenaline junkies adored “Travels with Mario & Luigi” which is about a full grown man’s travels around the country going on various and sundry adventures with his friends.

“Driver’s License” by Eloisa Fentanes. Highlighting a teen’s rite of passage, “Driver’s License” is about a late teenager’s emotional ups and downs as she learns how to drive and experiences the freedom and financial impact of passing her driving test.

And the FTS Oscar goes to…Eleanor Fentanes for “Working Girl”. A young adult braves the treacherous trenches of the 40 hour work force. Her emotional ups and downs are brilliantly portrayed by Ms. Fentanes herself. Congratulations, Eleanor!

What a phenomenal year of stories! Twenty twenty-four is looking just as good as well with early entries such as: the election story “What is a Primary?”, adult dental decisions “Should I go Under?” and retirement worries such as “I Can’t Live Off of That”.

Psalm 27 to the Rescue

Silhouette of helping hand between two climber

The last couple days have been kinda hard. Actually, the last couple years have been hard. My mom had a stroke two years ago, and my siblings and I have been increasingly taking more care of our parents. With my mom’s partial paralysis and my father’s decline into early dementia, the responsibilities as well as the emotional toll are being felt deeply by all of us. On top of that, aching old scars and fresh wounds seem to have resulted in acute estrangement from them and from one another.

Saturday night I went to bed carrying a lot of this emotional weight, not the kind of weightlifting I resolved to do this new year. Saturday was tough enough dealing with one of the kids’ issues, and I was looking forward to collapsing into bed and getting a good night sleep without having to get up early in the morning for work. Texted my son, who was out, “you good?“, his reply:

“Yea gonna be home around 10”

Good, one daughter was out babysitting, and she’d uber home whenever, late, no doubt. Around 9:30, I crashed and slept fitfully for over two hours. I woke at midnight. Checked my phone and there was a text. An hour-old text from an old friend: “Hello Donna, I know its late please can you life me up in prayer/medical issues. need them thank you so much. I texted back: “praying…”. I said a little prayer, then got up, went to bathroom and checked son’s room. Not home. Quick text to son, “You ok?” Ten minutes later:

“Yea”

Ok, good. Probably be in soon. He sometimes stays out late even if he has to work in morning. I sent up another quick prayer for my friend. Then I tried to go back to sleep. I couldn’t.

My mind went into manic mode as it got swept up in the family drama and distress. Every time I closed my eyes, the feelings of estrangement and rejection swirled and churned inside me. After about an hour of wrestling with fears, doubts and feelings, I checked the clock: 12:54 AM. Son still not home. Well, as any reputable helicopter mom could tell you, my mind was ripe for panicking about what possible harmful scenarios my son stumbled into. I sent another text, thinking he may just spend the night at a co-worker’s: “Are you coming homr”, ( I was tired.); another at 1:20 AM: “Ok?”; and the last one at 2:09 AM: “You good?”. No answer to any of those texts or the couple of texts I sent my daughter. But, I figured she’d just stay over and get a full night sleep away from the baby.

As you can imagine, I was getting frantic. Sleep was impossible. Even if he came home, I was so wound up, that an all-nighter was inevitable. I hate these kind of nights.

I put on my Bible study, often that would put me to sleep. J. Vernon McGee on his Thru the Bible radio show has been going through 1 Chronicles. It is his opinion that although 1 Chronicles seems like a rerun of 1 & 2 Samuel and 1 & 2 Kings; it is the same stories and characters, but from God’s point of view. The latest Bible study was about David’s great sin. No, not the one with he and Bathsheba, but the one when David numbered the people. McGee contends this sin, in God’s eyes, was worse in the sense that David was no longer trusting God, but in the numbers, in the strength that he thought he had accumulated. Wasn’t I failing to trust God like David? Yep.

In my emotional mania, somehow that lesson began to seep into my mind. I’ve been trying to be more trustful of God. And I was failing miserably, I was not trusting the Lord at all. I could not get a grip on the worrying, the pain and the despondency. I checked my email, and my daily Henri Nouwen devotional was already delivered. I read it:

Nouwen post

The further reflection took hold of my attention. I got out my Bible and read all of Psalm 27:

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to devour my flesh— my adversaries and foes— they shall stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise up against me, yet I will be confident. One thing I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple. For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will set me high on a rock. Now my head is lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the Lord. Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me! “Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!” Your face, Lord, do I seek. Do not hide your face from me. Do not turn your servant away in anger, you who have been my help. Do not cast me off, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation! If my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will take me up. Teach me your way, O Lord, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies. Do not give me up to the will of my adversaries, for false witnesses have risen against me, and they are breathing out violence. I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!

I read it again. I saw that even if my parents forsake me, the Lord will take me up. Even if what I feared was true, I had God to turn to. Then, finally, wait for the Lord. Not my strong suit.

As I let these words, these words of healing and solace, soothe my tempest-tossed mind, the storm slowly stilled just like when Jesus stilled the storm at the behest of his frantic friends. I began to trust, trust Him that my son would be OK, trust Him that my family’s issues would smooth out, trust Him that my financial situation will prove to be enough and trust and believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Far past two o’clock, and as I was drifting to sleep, I heard the jingle of his keys and the door unlocked. Before I fell asleep, I muttered to him as he passed my door, “Ten, huh?” He said something about dropping off friends (good kid!), and I finally said so he could hear, “glad you’re home safe.”

Good night.

Playing in God’s Backyard

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This blog was featured in my self-published book, “The Plight of the Hare & Other Stories From the Shoe”.

Like a lot of San Francisco families, my parents have a cabin up at the Russian River. We’d spend all summer there when we were kids until the summer of ‘72 when we all got busted raiding the parents’ bottles. Before that though, after our chores, we kids would find our friends and hang out. We’d walk into town and get candy at Lark’s: the berry lollipop, the apple rope gum and even the candy cigarettes. We would hike up the hillsides and build forts. But most of all we would spend our summer days swimming in the river.

I took my kids up there a lot too. We couldn’t swim until the sun hit the pier. So while we waited, we would go to the park or to Armstrong Woods or even hit up Lark’s like I did as a kid.

Sometimes though, we would just hang out in the backyard, and the kids would start digging holes. My kids love to dig holes. What is it with kids – a shovel, a pail and a ton of dirt? I don’t know, but they can be happy for hours playing in the dirt. Sooner or later though, my father would holler from the deck some 25 feet above them and tell them to quit digging holes and to fill ‘em up. We sadly filled the holes and just waited for the sun to hit the pier.

Another time, my kids were in their own backyard in the East Bay, and they started to dig a giant hole. They spent hours and hours digging it real big and played in it like it was a fort. I couldn’t care less, I always enjoyed when they were wholesomely occupied. But their dad showed up and told them to fill the hole and not to dig anymore of them. What a bummer!

One day, years ago, my sister, her kids, my kids and I went to Pacifica State Beach in Linda Mar. We grabbed all of the play toys and marched to the shore. What do you think was the first thing the kids did? Yep, they started digging holes. But, unlike the other times, no one told them to stop. Rather, it seemed like God joined them in their play. His laughter roared in the sound of the waves as they played. The waves would playfully fill up their holes. And as the surf retreated, the kids were challenged to dig more holes. And they did!

The waves roared back, laughing, playing with the kids. They played all day digging and running away, only to dig and run away again. It was delightful to watch. No one told them not to dig holes; instead it seemed as if God was playing with them. He didn’t mind them digging holes in His backyard.

Individuate!

I am a word nerd. I love words. When I had a boring job in Half Moon Bay back in the 1970’s, I entertained myself by reading the dictionary. I still have the lists of words I learned. Words are great, wonderfully great and terribly great. Words can harm, cut down and poison; but on the other hand, words can build up, inspire and heal. Just like I have comfort foods such as creamed tuna and pumpkin pie, I have comfort words, “Providence,” “hope” and “sublime” to name a few. I am always excited when I learn a new word.

Sometime in the 1990’s, my family was watching “Home Improvement.” Jill was having one of her talks with the fenced-obscured neighbor, Wilson. She was having trouble with her older son, Randy, and mentioned to Wilson that she believed that Randy was probably trying to “individuate” from her and Tim. That word caught my ear. I had never heard it used that way, and I took a psychology class in college (my worst graded class, by the way — that may explain a lot).

Individuate! Not only did I love the word and the way it gave my tongue a mini workout, I also understood immediately what Jill was talking about. As my children have grown, I have witnessed them “individuating” away from me. For some of them this came early, one at about a year and a half and one at three years old when she declared in front of many witnesses, “It’s my life” (this one was going to move out when she was 8), but the others were in the typical age range of 12-15 years. This is a hard stage of parenting; but I am in it for the long haul. I think I can, I think I can …

As I do with words and other things, I like to add my own spin. I think it is time for me to “individuate” away from my kids. It was natural and exciting to pour myself into these little lives….but eventually, their personalities began to take over. Early on I should have known things were bad when after we got a set of Laurel and Hardy movies, I called my sister bemoaning, “Linda, I need to get out, I think Stan Laurel is hot!” Symptoms continued, singing the Rescue Rangers theme song while doing dishes, penciling in the “Good Luck Charlie” Christmas movie on the calendar and being more conversant with people under the age of 20 than my peers.

Those are the harmless aspects to full immersion parenting; however, things can get ugly. They are nice for awhile and then they turn on you. If you are not prepared, it can be brutal. “It’s not fair.” “You never do anything for me” “You like everyone else more than me” and, the topper, “I hate you” can certainly wear down one’s defenses. At first, I would indignantly defend myself as being a perfect and fair parent (LOL) and try to hide my hurt feelings. As they individuated away from me, I also had to individuate away from them.

My first step toward individuation was to build some strong battlements. I couldn’t be so sensitive. I had to garner some courage and fortitude to handle their time of individuation. In the process, I was delighted to find myself again. I didn’t need to spend every minute with them. I didn’t need to hover over them; I could pursue some interests of my own. I could listen to Barry Manilow instead of Tupac and Two Chains.

I still have young ones at home, and am appreciating the things that I used to love. Funny, I caught the 13-year-old listening to Barry Manilow awhile ago. That’s the best of both worlds.

http://pacifica.patch.com/articles/individuate