I am who my mother hoped I would be. My mother, Sandra Kay Rose aka Sandra Catherine Kuhn, always helped others.
After mom's death, my grandmother talked to me of my mother's propensity to bring home stray people and animals when she was a child and young adult. It made sense to me because she did the same throughout my life as well. We always had an extra critter or person that we were fostering and helping to get on the path of their destiny. I cannot count how many she rehomed, so to speak. She taught me how valuable a single individual can be. During my early childhood I can remember animated discussions in which mom would lay down some wicked wisdom that would floor those present. I remember watching as people listened to her enthralled. With wit and humor she would decimate people's biases, challenge folks to think more deeply, insist peeps delve within themselves and discover their own empathy.
When I was an infant she would treat me with the same respect she did everyone else. Once a friend of hers was passing through Kansas City, they arrived late at night but had not met me and wanted to see me. They told me that mom took them to my crib,gently rubbed my sleeping back and asked me if I would like to wake up to meet her friend. I opened my eyes and smiled and reached up to them. She then thanked me for getting up and we played for awhile. This had an impact on her friend's parenting and perception of human respect. I was preverbal yet still she talked to me as if I could understand; and so I did. These experiences were the norm for me. Being treated as a person worthy of respect from birth taught me to recognize the intrinsic value of all other people whether I liked them or not. That to the best of my ability I should treat others with respect and acknowledge their worth. I talk to infants and wee ones in a sing song tone, but never baby talk; I use real words and plenty of them. Their brains are sponges and I have always felt the more words I can expose them to the more they will learn. She talked to me non stop as I grew, answered any questions I asked to the best of her ability or if she did not know we would look for the answer together. Words are power, respectfulness costs nothing, share smiles at every opportunity, curiosity takes you new places. These lessons were cornerstones to all other lessons that she and life had in store for me.
Once I was upright and ambulatory, my mom conscientiously taught me empathy. If stepped on bugs she would make me imagine being one of them and how awful it would be to be smooshed by a thoughtless, uncaring giant. She painted an image in my mind of their lil bug friends coming to look for them and finding a splat that was once their buddy. Sandi spent her teen years in Manhattan, KS near Fort Riley. She had many friends who were disfigured physically and psychologically by the conflict in Viet Nam. By embracing them, by exposing me to them she taught me not to stare. Make eye contact and smile warmly, ask how this happened if I was curious instead of looking away or being afraid of what I did not understand. That most people would rather talk about their experiences instead of feeling like an object of pity. That engaging others reminds them of their own value when they may have forgotten.
Sandi Rose spent a great deal of effort to step outside of society's comfort zone to expose me to as many diverse experiences as possible. The love of her life was Dale. It was a biracial relationship that began in the 1960s and never really ended though their romantic relationship did end in my teens. They were mismatched in so many ways. He was married, she never would. He was a businessman / entrepreneur; she worked as cocktail waitress, dog groomer, heavy labor construction worker, small newspaper editor, resume writer, social worker and Pinkerton agent. He had a fleet of import cars, she usually drove a car that cost under $500. They met while he was attending K State. She was skipping high school and hanging out at K State's library. They did not become involved until a couple of years later after he had married and she was pregnant with me.
The comedy of her pregnancy and my birth are a tale for another day, suffice it to say he was there throughout. Dale raised me as his own and after their affair ended she never kept us separated and always respected our bond. Their love was absurd. My folks would be so absorbed in talking that they were oblivious to the racist treatment we received in public early on, which taught me to master the stink eye at a very young age. As my mother's only child and innately quiet their conversations taught me that great love is a blinding mix of biochemistry and cerebral compatibility. While "All you need is Love" is not entirely true, it sure is worthy of pursuit! That love is what you choose it to be. After my pops moved out of state, my folks still spoke nearly every day until his death. She loved him until she died. His greatest lesson to me is that, "You'll never know what you'll get unless you ask."
Mom always encouraged my individuality and fostered my inner strength. She always confirmed that my thoughts and feelings were valid.
Words are power, respectfulness costs nothing, share smiles at every opportunity, curiosity takes you new places, don't bother to lie it forces you to remember too many realities, you don't have to walk in anyone's shoes to imagine where they've come from. These lessons were cornerstones to all other lessons that she and life had in store for me. I miss her badly.
After mom's death, my grandmother talked to me of my mother's propensity to bring home stray people and animals when she was a child and young adult. It made sense to me because she did the same throughout my life as well. We always had an extra critter or person that we were fostering and helping to get on the path of their destiny. I cannot count how many she rehomed, so to speak. She taught me how valuable a single individual can be. During my early childhood I can remember animated discussions in which mom would lay down some wicked wisdom that would floor those present. I remember watching as people listened to her enthralled. With wit and humor she would decimate people's biases, challenge folks to think more deeply, insist peeps delve within themselves and discover their own empathy.
When I was an infant she would treat me with the same respect she did everyone else. Once a friend of hers was passing through Kansas City, they arrived late at night but had not met me and wanted to see me. They told me that mom took them to my crib,gently rubbed my sleeping back and asked me if I would like to wake up to meet her friend. I opened my eyes and smiled and reached up to them. She then thanked me for getting up and we played for awhile. This had an impact on her friend's parenting and perception of human respect. I was preverbal yet still she talked to me as if I could understand; and so I did. These experiences were the norm for me. Being treated as a person worthy of respect from birth taught me to recognize the intrinsic value of all other people whether I liked them or not. That to the best of my ability I should treat others with respect and acknowledge their worth. I talk to infants and wee ones in a sing song tone, but never baby talk; I use real words and plenty of them. Their brains are sponges and I have always felt the more words I can expose them to the more they will learn. She talked to me non stop as I grew, answered any questions I asked to the best of her ability or if she did not know we would look for the answer together. Words are power, respectfulness costs nothing, share smiles at every opportunity, curiosity takes you new places. These lessons were cornerstones to all other lessons that she and life had in store for me.
Once I was upright and ambulatory, my mom conscientiously taught me empathy. If stepped on bugs she would make me imagine being one of them and how awful it would be to be smooshed by a thoughtless, uncaring giant. She painted an image in my mind of their lil bug friends coming to look for them and finding a splat that was once their buddy. Sandi spent her teen years in Manhattan, KS near Fort Riley. She had many friends who were disfigured physically and psychologically by the conflict in Viet Nam. By embracing them, by exposing me to them she taught me not to stare. Make eye contact and smile warmly, ask how this happened if I was curious instead of looking away or being afraid of what I did not understand. That most people would rather talk about their experiences instead of feeling like an object of pity. That engaging others reminds them of their own value when they may have forgotten.
Sandi Rose spent a great deal of effort to step outside of society's comfort zone to expose me to as many diverse experiences as possible. The love of her life was Dale. It was a biracial relationship that began in the 1960s and never really ended though their romantic relationship did end in my teens. They were mismatched in so many ways. He was married, she never would. He was a businessman / entrepreneur; she worked as cocktail waitress, dog groomer, heavy labor construction worker, small newspaper editor, resume writer, social worker and Pinkerton agent. He had a fleet of import cars, she usually drove a car that cost under $500. They met while he was attending K State. She was skipping high school and hanging out at K State's library. They did not become involved until a couple of years later after he had married and she was pregnant with me.
The comedy of her pregnancy and my birth are a tale for another day, suffice it to say he was there throughout. Dale raised me as his own and after their affair ended she never kept us separated and always respected our bond. Their love was absurd. My folks would be so absorbed in talking that they were oblivious to the racist treatment we received in public early on, which taught me to master the stink eye at a very young age. As my mother's only child and innately quiet their conversations taught me that great love is a blinding mix of biochemistry and cerebral compatibility. While "All you need is Love" is not entirely true, it sure is worthy of pursuit! That love is what you choose it to be. After my pops moved out of state, my folks still spoke nearly every day until his death. She loved him until she died. His greatest lesson to me is that, "You'll never know what you'll get unless you ask."
Mom always encouraged my individuality and fostered my inner strength. She always confirmed that my thoughts and feelings were valid.
Words are power, respectfulness costs nothing, share smiles at every opportunity, curiosity takes you new places, don't bother to lie it forces you to remember too many realities, you don't have to walk in anyone's shoes to imagine where they've come from. These lessons were cornerstones to all other lessons that she and life had in store for me. I miss her badly.
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