I was holding down the fort and working at my bookkeeping job the other day when a few maintenance men came in to fix a few things in my boss' apartment.
The older fellow left and a young lad was left to finish up, then update me on what they did, what they were still working on and their plan to come back.
I listened attentively to ensure I heard and understood the message well enough to relay to my boss upon her return home.
It just so happened that I needed to leave very close to the time the maintenance guy was leaving so I asked him if he was done for now because I would have to leave and couldn't leave the apartment unattended in my boss' absence.
At this point the young guy looked like he would have liked to vanish into thin air. He nattered a little bit and apologized profusely, "I'm sorry. I thought you lived here. I'm sorry ... I just assumed ..."
My boss lives in a high end seniors apartment. I often say if I knew I had only four months to live, I would live there. It is that "high end".
Was I offended that this young man assumed I was a resident of a senior's high apartment? Not on your life. I was complimented that he assumed I was wealthy enough to live there.
I guess I could pull off "high end" living. I just need to know I'm in my final months before I can afford to foot the bill.
Thursday, June 28, 2018
My Question is This ...
This is a picture of "Ray", our senior cat in residence.
Ray has found himself a quiet little haven within this house he shares with his younger, annoying (at times), attention seeking younger sibling, "Jet". See below:
Jet has outpaced Ray in the race to become the largest feline in the house. Thus, Jet can no longer fit under this particular piece of furniture. So it has become Ray's "safe place to relax".
Ray can be found napping here each and every morning, during their quiet afternoon cat nap time and basically a lot of the times when I can't find Ray, I find him hiding out here.
Thus my question is ...
... who is ever going to move this large, heavy and awkward cupboard to vacuum the massive amount of cat hair that must be accumulating there?
Does anyone have a special vacuum tool to handle the job? Inquiring minds want to know.
Will This Really Matter in Ten Years?
A simple quest sent me on a short journey the other day. I was seeking an answer I thought I had written down in a letter to Mom. Ten years ago.
Thus my journey began.
In sifting through a few letters during the time frame I was interested in, I found a paragraph I had written that intrigued me.
My youngest son was just starting the fifth grade. He wanted out of the class he was in and was desperate to escape by any means possible. There were no other grade five classes in his school so he begged me to let him either change schools or home school him. My request of him? "Just give it some time".
Ten years later, this incident rang the faintest of bells within my memory. It was akin to looking at a photograph and wondering "Do I remember that incident or do I just remember the picture?" In this case, I wondered, "Do I really remember this or do I only think I do because I am reading my own hand writing?"
Intrigued by this little blast from the past, I asked my son if he remembered this devastating, life altering, all encompassing incident from his past.
He looked at me vacantly. "When was this?" "How old was I?" "What teacher was it?" He couldn't remember.
I thought to myself. "This is a very good lesson for us to remember..."
No matter how devastating a moment may feel at the time, will you remember this in ten years?
I am fortunate enough to have many "ten years ago" incidents within my memory bank. I can remember the big stuff. Ten years later, all that is left is the lessons. The emotion I felt at the time is a distant memory.
Keep the lessons in life. Feel what you need to feel, do what you need to do, react as you need to react to get through and past the moment. Keep the lesson. Try to let the other stuff go. Try to forget.
Will this really matter in ten years?
Thus my journey began.
In sifting through a few letters during the time frame I was interested in, I found a paragraph I had written that intrigued me.
My youngest son was just starting the fifth grade. He wanted out of the class he was in and was desperate to escape by any means possible. There were no other grade five classes in his school so he begged me to let him either change schools or home school him. My request of him? "Just give it some time".
Ten years later, this incident rang the faintest of bells within my memory. It was akin to looking at a photograph and wondering "Do I remember that incident or do I just remember the picture?" In this case, I wondered, "Do I really remember this or do I only think I do because I am reading my own hand writing?"
Intrigued by this little blast from the past, I asked my son if he remembered this devastating, life altering, all encompassing incident from his past.
He looked at me vacantly. "When was this?" "How old was I?" "What teacher was it?" He couldn't remember.
I thought to myself. "This is a very good lesson for us to remember..."
No matter how devastating a moment may feel at the time, will you remember this in ten years?
I am fortunate enough to have many "ten years ago" incidents within my memory bank. I can remember the big stuff. Ten years later, all that is left is the lessons. The emotion I felt at the time is a distant memory.
Keep the lessons in life. Feel what you need to feel, do what you need to do, react as you need to react to get through and past the moment. Keep the lesson. Try to let the other stuff go. Try to forget.
Will this really matter in ten years?
A Mission Statement
So few words, so little time. I guess this is a winning combination. Except for the fact that I have been trying very hard to maintain the habit of writing each day. Morning writing works best for me and there has been a little "scarcity" in my morning hours. Thus I have not been keeping up.
In stepping away from the computer keypad and reflecting, I have begun to wonder that perhaps this is a good thing. As I sit still each morning and sort through the rubble of my mind, is it a positive thing to write down the minutia of my thought processes? I am thinking ... not.
I believe I need to set up some rules for writing here in this little space.
In stepping away from the computer keypad and reflecting, I have begun to wonder that perhaps this is a good thing. As I sit still each morning and sort through the rubble of my mind, is it a positive thing to write down the minutia of my thought processes? I am thinking ... not.
I believe I need to set up some rules for writing here in this little space.
- focus on the positive
- humor
- light hearted life stories with a lesson
- writing from a scar (not a gaping open wound)
- less is more
A mission statement. I need a mission statement to guide my thoughts towards. Without overthinking it, I have returned to a cover letter I once sent off in my quest to become a weekly column writer. This is what I found:
"I am a product of what I have lived, read, heard and witnessed. One sentence or glimpse of life passing by me inspires my daily meanderings. Sometimes deep and insightful. Other times food for thought. Then there are the times when life simply tickles my funny bone."
Two years later, I revamped that cover letter to read:
"Everyone wakes up with the same 24 hours ahead of them. Some of those days are special but most are just another regular day. There are little gems within each day we are given. The days that feel laden with burdens and worries don't last forever (though at times it feels that they do). But in the end, we usually come out the other side of a tough situation a little bit wiser and with a new appreciation of how extraordinary it really is ... just to live 'another ordinary day in our life'."
It can all be wrapped up by focusing on the little gems within each day. It's time to get out of my own head and look up.
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Craving Solitude, Creating Scarcity
There has been a scarcity of thoughts within. Not for lack of thinking. Perhaps due to the fact that I am thinking too much, while at the same time while I feel I am doing too much. Let me stress the word "feel". This is not a truth. It is only a feeling.
There is a heaviness of spirit I seem to take with me wherever I go. I am not the friend, sibling, mother or employee I used to be.
I don't feel the spark of enthusiasm and joy I used to carry along with me. I feel like people can see the cloud of doom and gloom over my head.
Conversations become stiff. I don't see the reflection I used to see in people's eyes. Something or someone has changed. I know that "someone" is me.
I am seeking joyfulness but I am not finding it in the company of others. I am finding it when I am sitting in a quiet spot at home, surrounded by all that comforts me. Leaving home, conversing, being social is hard.
I have to leave my home to go to work five days of the week. This should not be so hard. But it is. I loved working from home, from a place of security and solitude. Taking my work out on the road isn't as hard as it has been. But it has made leaving home on the weekends uncomfortable.
"I can do this," I prompted myself all weekend. "I can do hard things"; "I can do this".
By the end of my Monday, I finally felt like I was ready for the weekend. I had done all the hard things but accomplished not a thing.
There is a heaviness of spirit I seem to take with me wherever I go. I am not the friend, sibling, mother or employee I used to be.
I don't feel the spark of enthusiasm and joy I used to carry along with me. I feel like people can see the cloud of doom and gloom over my head.
Conversations become stiff. I don't see the reflection I used to see in people's eyes. Something or someone has changed. I know that "someone" is me.
I am seeking joyfulness but I am not finding it in the company of others. I am finding it when I am sitting in a quiet spot at home, surrounded by all that comforts me. Leaving home, conversing, being social is hard.
I have to leave my home to go to work five days of the week. This should not be so hard. But it is. I loved working from home, from a place of security and solitude. Taking my work out on the road isn't as hard as it has been. But it has made leaving home on the weekends uncomfortable.
"I can do this," I prompted myself all weekend. "I can do hard things"; "I can do this".
By the end of my Monday, I finally felt like I was ready for the weekend. I had done all the hard things but accomplished not a thing.
*************************************************************************
I walked away from this and then the thoughts came ...
I believe the root of this feeling is the unspoken desire to run out to Mom's. Mom is gone. Her house is gone. I will never be able to run home again.
But by sitting here, within my home that is sprinkled with some of Mom's belongings, I feel her here the most. I can be still and feel her presence.
I want to be home, alone and fill myself up with Mom's presence. That is all ...
Sunday, June 24, 2018
Bliss - In the Eyes of a Momma Cat
I am convinced all I need to know could be learned by watching a cat.
I have no idea how much time was spent gazing at a new Momma Cat and her four kittens yesterday afternoon. It was akin to watching a fire, staring out into the ocean and watching for life.
Momma Cat sprawled out lazily while her kittens ate, played, slept and wrestled amongst themselves. The kittens were 25 days old and are just getting their sea legs. They weebled and wobbled and often toppled over.
They nibbled on each other's ears, they walked over each other, they seemed to instinctively want to climb up on something and those teeny tiny little claws were out in full force as they charted their new territory.
The look in the mother cat's eyes was pure and unadulterated contentment. She was lying in the middle of her world with her kittens all around her, chewing on her ears, climbing over her and she lapped it all up.
This momma was completely content and fulfilled. Her existence was defined by her need to nurture her little family to independence. I told her I wish she had taught me what I needed to know about parenthood before I had my first child.
By the time my second and third children appeared on the scene, I had learned enough to stop and enjoy those moments of complete and utter dependence a newborn child has. There were more moments of bliss with my third child than with any other. I felt like I may have had the look that momma cat had.
My first child however? I was living a life of fear, scarcity, dependence and I was in the thick of learning all I needed to know to survive away from my own family. I was a wreck. I am afraid if I was a cat, I may have eaten my first born.
Is it any wonder that I carry the weight of guilt on my shoulders when it comes to my oldest child? I did not nurture him the way he needed to be nurtured right from the start.
I had not yet learned what that first time momma cat knew instinctively. I was a mere kitten myself when I had my first. I didn't have time to learn what I needed to know to give him the start he needed.
I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. If only I had the sense of that momma cat, things could have been so different ...
I have no idea how much time was spent gazing at a new Momma Cat and her four kittens yesterday afternoon. It was akin to watching a fire, staring out into the ocean and watching for life.
Momma Cat sprawled out lazily while her kittens ate, played, slept and wrestled amongst themselves. The kittens were 25 days old and are just getting their sea legs. They weebled and wobbled and often toppled over.
They nibbled on each other's ears, they walked over each other, they seemed to instinctively want to climb up on something and those teeny tiny little claws were out in full force as they charted their new territory.
The look in the mother cat's eyes was pure and unadulterated contentment. She was lying in the middle of her world with her kittens all around her, chewing on her ears, climbing over her and she lapped it all up.
This momma was completely content and fulfilled. Her existence was defined by her need to nurture her little family to independence. I told her I wish she had taught me what I needed to know about parenthood before I had my first child.
By the time my second and third children appeared on the scene, I had learned enough to stop and enjoy those moments of complete and utter dependence a newborn child has. There were more moments of bliss with my third child than with any other. I felt like I may have had the look that momma cat had.
My first child however? I was living a life of fear, scarcity, dependence and I was in the thick of learning all I needed to know to survive away from my own family. I was a wreck. I am afraid if I was a cat, I may have eaten my first born.
Is it any wonder that I carry the weight of guilt on my shoulders when it comes to my oldest child? I did not nurture him the way he needed to be nurtured right from the start.
I had not yet learned what that first time momma cat knew instinctively. I was a mere kitten myself when I had my first. I didn't have time to learn what I needed to know to give him the start he needed.
I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. If only I had the sense of that momma cat, things could have been so different ...
Friday, June 22, 2018
Hello Weekend!
Well Weekend, you have arrived once again. I was more prepared for you last week. This week I am on standby mode.
The lawn has not been mowed, the car needs gas and the fridge is hungry for some groceries. The house needs a good vacuuming, my hair needs a good washing and the windows could use a little cleaning.
There are things to be done, places to go and I have not done any of the hard things before this day-before-the-weekend has rolled around once again.
I am not sitting in a state of euphoria at the moment but that's okay. We create our own bliss and one cannot appreciate the wonder of life if you live life on a high note all the time.
I'm sitting comfortably on a plateau I know well. I don't have to rush while sitting enjoying this particular view. Everything important has been done and there is always time for all the rest.
I'm in a spot where I can sit back and dream a little when someone asks if I can join them on a last minute holiday.
I'm in a pick up and go mode where I can change directions at a moment's notice.
I may not have all the little details of life tended to at this moment in time. But I will. All in due time.
It isn't going to be the unplugged and blissfully quiet weekend I enjoyed a week ago but the next few days have their own hidden treasures within. Seek and you shall find.
Hello Weekend, my old friend. I look forward to your return and am grateful you are always on the horizon.
The lawn has not been mowed, the car needs gas and the fridge is hungry for some groceries. The house needs a good vacuuming, my hair needs a good washing and the windows could use a little cleaning.
There are things to be done, places to go and I have not done any of the hard things before this day-before-the-weekend has rolled around once again.
I am not sitting in a state of euphoria at the moment but that's okay. We create our own bliss and one cannot appreciate the wonder of life if you live life on a high note all the time.
I'm sitting comfortably on a plateau I know well. I don't have to rush while sitting enjoying this particular view. Everything important has been done and there is always time for all the rest.
I'm in a spot where I can sit back and dream a little when someone asks if I can join them on a last minute holiday.
I'm in a pick up and go mode where I can change directions at a moment's notice.
I may not have all the little details of life tended to at this moment in time. But I will. All in due time.
It isn't going to be the unplugged and blissfully quiet weekend I enjoyed a week ago but the next few days have their own hidden treasures within. Seek and you shall find.
Hello Weekend, my old friend. I look forward to your return and am grateful you are always on the horizon.
Thursday, June 21, 2018
Signs
Signs are all around us. Some of them appear to be obvious. Others are hidden and full of meaning.
Since Mom died, I have searched the world looking for a "sign". The harder I look, the less I see. When I sit quietly, simply watch and feel the world around me, signs are everywhere.
A phrase within a song that is rich in meaning at precisely the exact moment I needed to hear the words.
A rabbit hopping through a mall parking lot, completely out of context within the situation and in plain sight so I wouldn't miss it.
The feeling within my heart as I sit still, try to understand and feel what Mom may have feeling as she spent so very many hours alone.
The day I prepared for an impromptu barbeque with my siblings, I felt Mom woven deeply within the day as I unintentionally recreated some of the best moments of the last "good day" I spent with Mom.
I hear her whispering in my ear, saying all the things she used to say in a particular situation. I want to silence her voice when I don't agree with what she said. But I don't, for fear that I will miss out on the good stuff if I snuff out the negative.
I feel her within our cat's eyes when he hid among the lilac bushes and recreated a scene from our ailing cat's, final days. Andre's eyes spoke volumes without saying a word. Mom once told me, "If I ever get sick, I want to be sick like Andre". His steroid medication masked the symptoms of his respiratory illness and to the unknowing eye, one would have never believed he was dying. "If I ever get sick, I want to be sick like Andre" ...
Mom failed to find the humor and perspective of being compared to a cat as her days wound down. But our little Andre taught me everything I needed to know to walk through The Year of Mom.
The conversations one hears by looking into a person's eyes; the weariness of spirit even though the body mightily carries on; the need for rest; the way they rallied as loved ones came to call and learning that letting go is the deepest act of love when you realize they have given all they have to give to the world.
Signs.
I am open to receive and accept any sign I can find. Maybe I'm holding onto false hope. Maybe I'm fooling myself. Maybe I'm seeing what I need to see. But when I feel the essence of Mom within a moment, I know that she is with me in some form.
My cousin posted a video of a hummingbird at the feeder her mom hung many years ago and faithfully kept it full. Throughout the years a hummingbird was never spotted but the feeder was replenished and full of hope.
My uncle said he had never seen a hummingbird at the feeder until this spring. Yesterday was the ten year anniversary of my aunt's passing. My cousin was visiting her dad when she heard an unknown humming sound from above. She looked up and spotted a hummingbird ...
A hummingbird came to visit at a moment when all my cousin had to do was "look up". As my cousin walked through that particular day, her thoughts were quite possibly full of thoughts of her mom. Her mom, who hung a hummingbird feeder years ago, faithfully believing if she kept it full the hummingbirds would come.
A hummingbird feeder was filled with hope. And the hummingbird came. A special gift especially for my cousin and her family, from her mom at a moment when a tiny little bird could say more than words could encompass.
Signs. They are all around us. Sit quietly and look up. You never know what you will see ...
Since Mom died, I have searched the world looking for a "sign". The harder I look, the less I see. When I sit quietly, simply watch and feel the world around me, signs are everywhere.
A phrase within a song that is rich in meaning at precisely the exact moment I needed to hear the words.
A rabbit hopping through a mall parking lot, completely out of context within the situation and in plain sight so I wouldn't miss it.
The feeling within my heart as I sit still, try to understand and feel what Mom may have feeling as she spent so very many hours alone.
The day I prepared for an impromptu barbeque with my siblings, I felt Mom woven deeply within the day as I unintentionally recreated some of the best moments of the last "good day" I spent with Mom.
I hear her whispering in my ear, saying all the things she used to say in a particular situation. I want to silence her voice when I don't agree with what she said. But I don't, for fear that I will miss out on the good stuff if I snuff out the negative.
I feel her within our cat's eyes when he hid among the lilac bushes and recreated a scene from our ailing cat's, final days. Andre's eyes spoke volumes without saying a word. Mom once told me, "If I ever get sick, I want to be sick like Andre". His steroid medication masked the symptoms of his respiratory illness and to the unknowing eye, one would have never believed he was dying. "If I ever get sick, I want to be sick like Andre" ...
Mom failed to find the humor and perspective of being compared to a cat as her days wound down. But our little Andre taught me everything I needed to know to walk through The Year of Mom.
The conversations one hears by looking into a person's eyes; the weariness of spirit even though the body mightily carries on; the need for rest; the way they rallied as loved ones came to call and learning that letting go is the deepest act of love when you realize they have given all they have to give to the world.
Signs.
I am open to receive and accept any sign I can find. Maybe I'm holding onto false hope. Maybe I'm fooling myself. Maybe I'm seeing what I need to see. But when I feel the essence of Mom within a moment, I know that she is with me in some form.
My cousin posted a video of a hummingbird at the feeder her mom hung many years ago and faithfully kept it full. Throughout the years a hummingbird was never spotted but the feeder was replenished and full of hope.
My uncle said he had never seen a hummingbird at the feeder until this spring. Yesterday was the ten year anniversary of my aunt's passing. My cousin was visiting her dad when she heard an unknown humming sound from above. She looked up and spotted a hummingbird ...
A hummingbird came to visit at a moment when all my cousin had to do was "look up". As my cousin walked through that particular day, her thoughts were quite possibly full of thoughts of her mom. Her mom, who hung a hummingbird feeder years ago, faithfully believing if she kept it full the hummingbirds would come.
A hummingbird feeder was filled with hope. And the hummingbird came. A special gift especially for my cousin and her family, from her mom at a moment when a tiny little bird could say more than words could encompass.
Signs. They are all around us. Sit quietly and look up. You never know what you will see ...
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Then Came the Light
This week has had the power to take me back to where I was several months ago. Triggers of the past arose once again.
This past spring was tough. My senior lady friends unknowingly recreated some situations and emotions of the last spring I spent with Mom. I felt the emotional pull before I connected the dots and realized my inability to just roll with things was because I had walked this walk before.
My heart was still a little tender and Mom's last spring is perhaps the point in her journey when I crumbled to my knees before they got strong enough to carry me through the rest of the year.
It is always the darkest before dawn. Spring was dark. Then came the light.
I felt some new triggers again a few days ago. My spidey senses were a-tingling and I knew I just had to pull up my socks, not take things personally, listen well and just do the next right thing.
I anticipated yesterday to be a tricky one to navigate. But I was wrong.
Do you ever feel like you have made a difference just by showing up? I have. All I did was walk in the door. And it made all the difference in the world.
This is the very same door that took all my strength to walk through all winter long. I don't know when it became easier. But it is easy now.
It was dark. Now it is light. I was weak. Now I am strong.
I'll just keep doing the next right thing.
This past spring was tough. My senior lady friends unknowingly recreated some situations and emotions of the last spring I spent with Mom. I felt the emotional pull before I connected the dots and realized my inability to just roll with things was because I had walked this walk before.
My heart was still a little tender and Mom's last spring is perhaps the point in her journey when I crumbled to my knees before they got strong enough to carry me through the rest of the year.
It is always the darkest before dawn. Spring was dark. Then came the light.
I felt some new triggers again a few days ago. My spidey senses were a-tingling and I knew I just had to pull up my socks, not take things personally, listen well and just do the next right thing.
I anticipated yesterday to be a tricky one to navigate. But I was wrong.
Do you ever feel like you have made a difference just by showing up? I have. All I did was walk in the door. And it made all the difference in the world.
This is the very same door that took all my strength to walk through all winter long. I don't know when it became easier. But it is easy now.
It was dark. Now it is light. I was weak. Now I am strong.
I'll just keep doing the next right thing.
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
The Day After
I am one day into the work week. It has been one day since I turned on the computer and my cell phone. One day. And it has all but erased the tranquillity of my "disconnected" weekend.
After I turned my devices back on and got caught up after my two day hiatus, I tried to walk away from these energy, attention grabbing pieces of technology. I didn't succeed.
I muted my cell phone, closed my email program and the only window left open on the computer was my budget. It wasn't enough.
The magnetic pull of the computer kept drawing me in once the power button was on. I felt compelled to check my cell phone for missed calls or text messages that could be waiting. It was Monday after all. I needed to be available to those who employ me.
Except I wasn't.
Since I was home and my cell phone ringer was on mute, I missed a call that I should have taken. I answered the call that came on my land line but I missed the second call that came through on my cell. I didn't find it until hours after the fact. It was too late to return the call so I left it until morning. I shouldn't feel as badly as I do about this because I could have been reached at home. The old fashioned way. By phone.
When asked how my weekend was I honestly replied, "It was WONDERFUL!!! I am definitely going to do this again!" The reply, "I hope not too soon..."
One statement deflated me. I truly believe it was not meant to impact me the way it did. It came from a place of desperation. But I maintain my position. I was home. Phone calls were welcome. I just turned off my cell phone and computer. I was not sitting on a mountaintop, away from civilization. I was home. All you had to do was call ...
Then again, is there another reason why this is bothering me so?
The feeling, the conversation, the unspoken words and the suppressed anger I felt by not being able to be reached on my cell phone reminded me of a conversation with Mom.
Mom detested cell phones with every fibre of her being. Except when she was the one who was trying to call. Of course she would try all other means first and the mere act of dialing a cell phone number was a last resort. So she would expect an answer. "Isn't that what a cell phone is for?" To be used in case of emergency?!
If Mom was calling me on my cell phone, I knew she needed an answer. I heard the same quiet desperation in the voice at the other end of the phone yesterday.
Instead of climbing on my high horse and defending myself with the truth (I was home ... why didn't you call my home number?), I need to listen, reassure and affirm that I am almost always available to take a call.
We are living in a world where we can be reached at almost any time, any place. This is a good thing in many ways but it is suffocating at times.
I suppose this is why some people are drawn to the mountains. If you can't reach me at home or on my cell, I may be sitting atop a mountain somewhere. Not any time soon though. I am needed here at home. I could hear it in her voice...
Monday, June 18, 2018
Father's Day
Father's Day has come and gone and I would not have even noticed, had it not been for those on Facebook acknowledging the day.
I am not a big fan of the Hallmark Holidays to begin with, but Father's Day is not a day that has been celebrated within my own little family unit for decades. The day is sort of a non-event in my little world.
I'm sorry.
It is not for lack of respecting, reflecting upon and remembering Dad. He was an honorable man and every time I utter his name, it is with reverence and admiration. He was the epitome of the "dad" I wish my sons had had.
He was a hard working, honest, respectful and good man. I can't begin to name the adjectives that describe who he was but in all my memories, he did not falter in being true to himself. He was who he was and did not alter his personality to fit a situation.
I saw a lot of his traits in my Youngest Son's dad but no one could quite measure up to Dad. His brothers are a close second but out of all seven of my grandparents' sons, I'm grateful Dad was the one we could call our own.
In this Year After Mom, my thoughts have become all consuming with Mom. Memories are so fresh that I want to write them down now, so I don't ever forget the small stuff.
Dad, you have been missing from our world so very many years. I dare not think of all I have forgotten. The little things.
I remember a lot. I think of conversations we had, things you taught me, how fortunate I was to know the side of you who was able to go away on camping weekends and go on SUMMER vacations.
I remember a silly side of you, your ability to laugh, the conversation we had when I was pouting in our trailer after your first heart attack and I remember you and Mom wallpapering 😲[astonished face]. You were human after all, Dad.
I cherish these memories because I know they are mine and mine alone. There wasn't a camera or tape recorder present to preserve and hold onto them. They are etched in my memory.
It is the little things that mean the most.
I wish I had a bigger stock pile of "moments" to hold onto. But there is something bigger than you that continues to keep you coming to the forefront of my thoughts more often than I talk about.
Dale was born three months before you died. He never knew you, yet he has embodied your persona in so very many ways. It warms my heart to think of the kinship of spirit you share with Dale. It's like a part of your soul wafted into his and became a part of who he has become.
Then there is your only son. Dad, you would have been so pleased with the person he has become. He is another father who is everything you were and perhaps a little more.
Your only begotten son was raised in a predominantly female world. He has a sensitivity within him and the means to communicate his thoughts in a way that makes me feel like I have a strong and faithful male role model within my world and someone my own sons aspire to emulate. His presence helps to fill the void you left behind.
Our lives without you began thirty five years ago. Your presence has never left us. Your future did.
I am not a big fan of the Hallmark Holidays to begin with, but Father's Day is not a day that has been celebrated within my own little family unit for decades. The day is sort of a non-event in my little world.
I'm sorry.
It is not for lack of respecting, reflecting upon and remembering Dad. He was an honorable man and every time I utter his name, it is with reverence and admiration. He was the epitome of the "dad" I wish my sons had had.
He was a hard working, honest, respectful and good man. I can't begin to name the adjectives that describe who he was but in all my memories, he did not falter in being true to himself. He was who he was and did not alter his personality to fit a situation.
I saw a lot of his traits in my Youngest Son's dad but no one could quite measure up to Dad. His brothers are a close second but out of all seven of my grandparents' sons, I'm grateful Dad was the one we could call our own.
In this Year After Mom, my thoughts have become all consuming with Mom. Memories are so fresh that I want to write them down now, so I don't ever forget the small stuff.
Dad, you have been missing from our world so very many years. I dare not think of all I have forgotten. The little things.
I remember a lot. I think of conversations we had, things you taught me, how fortunate I was to know the side of you who was able to go away on camping weekends and go on SUMMER vacations.
I remember a silly side of you, your ability to laugh, the conversation we had when I was pouting in our trailer after your first heart attack and I remember you and Mom wallpapering 😲[astonished face]. You were human after all, Dad.
I cherish these memories because I know they are mine and mine alone. There wasn't a camera or tape recorder present to preserve and hold onto them. They are etched in my memory.
It is the little things that mean the most.
I wish I had a bigger stock pile of "moments" to hold onto. But there is something bigger than you that continues to keep you coming to the forefront of my thoughts more often than I talk about.
Dale was born three months before you died. He never knew you, yet he has embodied your persona in so very many ways. It warms my heart to think of the kinship of spirit you share with Dale. It's like a part of your soul wafted into his and became a part of who he has become.
Then there is your only son. Dad, you would have been so pleased with the person he has become. He is another father who is everything you were and perhaps a little more.
Your only begotten son was raised in a predominantly female world. He has a sensitivity within him and the means to communicate his thoughts in a way that makes me feel like I have a strong and faithful male role model within my world and someone my own sons aspire to emulate. His presence helps to fill the void you left behind.
Our lives without you began thirty five years ago. Your presence has never left us. Your future did.
You live on in our hearts, minds and souls.
I may have overlooked Father's Day but you will not be forgotten, Dad. Even in those who never knew you.
Disconnected Thoughts
As I lived the past weekend without my cell phone, computer and ever present WiFi connection, I had so much more energy without the pull of all of the above.
I wasn't disconnected from the world. I was simply unplugged from all gadgets that leave me wide open to send, receive and wait for incoming messages. The only connections I left open were the phone line, the television and the freedom to drive or walk wherever I wanted to go. I didn't have to go far. Everything I needed was already here.
Conversations were better, energy levels were higher and I was simply more "present". Due to my inability to dig into the archives of old texts, emails and blog posts I was forced to stay in the moment much more than I have become accustomed.
Yes, my thoughts drifted to the past but they didn't remain there. I took my pen and pad outside with me and let my fingers write whatever came to mind. Fragments of thoughts, house maintenance that needs to be tended and a five year renovation plan came to mind.
Without the ability to draw myself into thoughts and conversations that should be left to memory alone, I naturally ended up drawn into the present and looking ahead. Looking up from my technological devices was required to direct my attention forward.
I couldn't believe how many times I was drawn to check something on the computer. The weather, movie listings. my budget spreadsheet, my Air Miles balance (did I get the 100 bonus points I was expecting??)...
What were the first things I checked when I signed back on this morning? Emails and text messages. Anything important had already been followed up with a phone call. Everything else required no immediate reply.
Next, I opened my budget spreadsheet. I had the weekend's expenses (very few, may I add) to add to my monthly spending tab. Secondly, I wondered how long ago I had paid for the car wash I finally utilized yesterday. Finally, I confirmed the answer to my question, "How in the world did I afford to pay the bills last year?" I found the answer rather interesting.
In October of the year when Mom's health began to take a notable turn, I withdrew a lump sum from my pension. These funds were to act as my safety net while I dealt with the aftermath of closing my daycare and headed into an unknown future. Less than one month later, Mom ended up in the hospital which preempted all else. My daycare closed earlier than anticipated and months after that, Mom's health turned one more time.
Mom didn't really ever completely bounce back after that point. She rallied, she fought back and didn't show weakness. But something changed. I simply knew I wanted to be available to run out at any time and stay as long as I felt I needed/wanted to be there. And I did.
That decision is one I'll never regret. The repercussions were unimportant. Increased car maintenance, gas consumption was offset by a decline in wages. Unexpected expenses continued to arise and I just kept doing what it took to pay the bills.
After all was said and done, the amount of my pension withdrawal covered all of my budget shortfalls except for $1,200.00. After Mom's death, I promised my siblings I would keep track of my costs going forward and recoup them from her estate. Grand total? $1,040.00. So in reality, my shortfall was a mere $160.00.
One year before Mom died, I had withdrawn almost exactly what I would need to cover my shortage of income during her final year.
I have said it before and I'll say it again. Whenever I respect my financial limitations, extra curricular costs seem to be offset by an equal or similar dollar value of something I was not expecting. It happens all the time.
This past weekend, the cost of the hotel room for the night I did not pay for was only $13.00 less than the amount of my healthy eating grocery bill. Then, two unexpected cheques totalling $8.67 less than the cost of the hotel's cancellation fee I had to pay, in order to stay home.
There I go again. Trying to "balance to zero". Justifying staying home in the name of my budget was not even a consideration when I backed out of my plans last weekend. But when being home was exactly where I needed to be was rewarded with little financial windfalls along the way, I simply feel like I won the lottery.
Life is what we make it. I can find a way to justify almost any incident that comes my way. There is always a "plus" to offset any "minus". I just happen to be able to account for my choices in dollars and cents. This makes perfect sense to me.
I have spent the first four hours of today attached to this computer. I have one more blog post in me and then I need to walk away.
Two days of disconnection have resulted in an excess of words within me. Though I discovered that my brain to pen connection works very well when it comes to solving my daily word/Sudoku puzzles, my writing connection is wired to the ability to type my words onto a keyboard. The pen alone, cannot keep up with my brain.
Next time I disconnect, I may fire up my old Netbook for writing purposes only. Because there WILL be a next time. This I know for sure!
I wasn't disconnected from the world. I was simply unplugged from all gadgets that leave me wide open to send, receive and wait for incoming messages. The only connections I left open were the phone line, the television and the freedom to drive or walk wherever I wanted to go. I didn't have to go far. Everything I needed was already here.
Conversations were better, energy levels were higher and I was simply more "present". Due to my inability to dig into the archives of old texts, emails and blog posts I was forced to stay in the moment much more than I have become accustomed.
Yes, my thoughts drifted to the past but they didn't remain there. I took my pen and pad outside with me and let my fingers write whatever came to mind. Fragments of thoughts, house maintenance that needs to be tended and a five year renovation plan came to mind.
Without the ability to draw myself into thoughts and conversations that should be left to memory alone, I naturally ended up drawn into the present and looking ahead. Looking up from my technological devices was required to direct my attention forward.
I couldn't believe how many times I was drawn to check something on the computer. The weather, movie listings. my budget spreadsheet, my Air Miles balance (did I get the 100 bonus points I was expecting??)...
What were the first things I checked when I signed back on this morning? Emails and text messages. Anything important had already been followed up with a phone call. Everything else required no immediate reply.
Next, I opened my budget spreadsheet. I had the weekend's expenses (very few, may I add) to add to my monthly spending tab. Secondly, I wondered how long ago I had paid for the car wash I finally utilized yesterday. Finally, I confirmed the answer to my question, "How in the world did I afford to pay the bills last year?" I found the answer rather interesting.
In October of the year when Mom's health began to take a notable turn, I withdrew a lump sum from my pension. These funds were to act as my safety net while I dealt with the aftermath of closing my daycare and headed into an unknown future. Less than one month later, Mom ended up in the hospital which preempted all else. My daycare closed earlier than anticipated and months after that, Mom's health turned one more time.
Mom didn't really ever completely bounce back after that point. She rallied, she fought back and didn't show weakness. But something changed. I simply knew I wanted to be available to run out at any time and stay as long as I felt I needed/wanted to be there. And I did.
That decision is one I'll never regret. The repercussions were unimportant. Increased car maintenance, gas consumption was offset by a decline in wages. Unexpected expenses continued to arise and I just kept doing what it took to pay the bills.
After all was said and done, the amount of my pension withdrawal covered all of my budget shortfalls except for $1,200.00. After Mom's death, I promised my siblings I would keep track of my costs going forward and recoup them from her estate. Grand total? $1,040.00. So in reality, my shortfall was a mere $160.00.
One year before Mom died, I had withdrawn almost exactly what I would need to cover my shortage of income during her final year.
I have said it before and I'll say it again. Whenever I respect my financial limitations, extra curricular costs seem to be offset by an equal or similar dollar value of something I was not expecting. It happens all the time.
This past weekend, the cost of the hotel room for the night I did not pay for was only $13.00 less than the amount of my healthy eating grocery bill. Then, two unexpected cheques totalling $8.67 less than the cost of the hotel's cancellation fee I had to pay, in order to stay home.
There I go again. Trying to "balance to zero". Justifying staying home in the name of my budget was not even a consideration when I backed out of my plans last weekend. But when being home was exactly where I needed to be was rewarded with little financial windfalls along the way, I simply feel like I won the lottery.
Life is what we make it. I can find a way to justify almost any incident that comes my way. There is always a "plus" to offset any "minus". I just happen to be able to account for my choices in dollars and cents. This makes perfect sense to me.
I have spent the first four hours of today attached to this computer. I have one more blog post in me and then I need to walk away.
Two days of disconnection have resulted in an excess of words within me. Though I discovered that my brain to pen connection works very well when it comes to solving my daily word/Sudoku puzzles, my writing connection is wired to the ability to type my words onto a keyboard. The pen alone, cannot keep up with my brain.
Next time I disconnect, I may fire up my old Netbook for writing purposes only. Because there WILL be a next time. This I know for sure!
Bliss ... Pure Bliss
It was the best holiday I never took. I stayed home, turned off my cell phone, the computer and simply "existed" this past weekend. It is a vacation I plan to take more often.
The WiFi connection cannot be heard but it is a presence unto itself. There is a subconscious awareness that pulls and draws me to check on all things on-line.
I could not believe the freedom I felt by not being beholden to these gadgets that had the potential to have a message waiting for me.
I am a girl who has sat by a phone waiting for it to ring. I am a girl who one time felt so lonely, that I wanted to chat a little longer to the person who called the wrong number. I am a girl who wanted to sit a tape recorder beside the telephone when I had to leave the house, to see if anyone called. I am a girl who was destined to become addicted to call display, emailing, texting and all things related to "connection" via an invisible, portable and wireless source.
I severed the connection this past weekend and it was absolutely marvelous.
I spent hours outside, watching our cats, listening to the birds, picking a few weeds, visiting with my children, soaking up the sun, walking a little, listening a lot and simply absorbing the world around me.
I cooked a little and I ate meals instead of incessantly grazing. I filled our fridge and prepared it for the upcoming week. A week where I never want to cook, a week where I simply want to grab what is close and run off to work with it, a week where my son and I are never home for a meal at the same time, a week that is driven by the need to be somewhere over most of the meal times.
Instead of paying for a hotel room, I bought groceries. Good, meal worthy kinds of food which filled the fridge to capacity. If you buy it, they will come. And they did.
My children know the way to my heart is through anything I don't have to cook myself. My son and his girlfriend arrived with coffee in hand yesterday morning. They had plans for the day and suggested we go out for supper later. I surprised them with my offer, "Why don't we just eat here instead?" And we did.
After they left, I puttered, I walked, then I came home and hung out in the back yard with our cats until my Youngest Son came home from work.
I listened to the echoes of the past. It was so quiet, I could hear past conversations, remember the lively days of my daycare, reflect on gatherings that have taken place and so very many one on one visits that have been had.
Memories, voices, pictures in my mind and the overwhelming feeling of contentment and cheer washed over, through and around me. I was enveloped in a peacefulness I cannot recall feeling for a very, very long time.
The leaves on the trees caught the breeze and trembled ever so gently. Every now and again, I would feel the brush of the wind touch me but Mom's wind chimes were silent. I watched them, willing them to sing out to me. They didn't have to beckon for me to come outside. I was already there. So they remained silent.
As I watched the birds play within the branches of the massive tree in our neighbor's yard, I thought of the time I spent in Mom's sun room last year watching the birds who used Mom's yard as their playground.
When I sit still and simply absorb the world around me and let thoughts waft in and out and through my mind, I often end up thinking of Mom. I watched her in her stillness a lot. She looked so very peaceful.
When the wind chimes stayed silent, I thought of Mom. I thought of Dad too. I felt their presence within me.
"This is where you need to be right now" is what I heard when I listened to the quiet. So that is where I stayed.
It was bliss. Pure bliss.
The WiFi connection cannot be heard but it is a presence unto itself. There is a subconscious awareness that pulls and draws me to check on all things on-line.
I could not believe the freedom I felt by not being beholden to these gadgets that had the potential to have a message waiting for me.
I am a girl who has sat by a phone waiting for it to ring. I am a girl who one time felt so lonely, that I wanted to chat a little longer to the person who called the wrong number. I am a girl who wanted to sit a tape recorder beside the telephone when I had to leave the house, to see if anyone called. I am a girl who was destined to become addicted to call display, emailing, texting and all things related to "connection" via an invisible, portable and wireless source.
I severed the connection this past weekend and it was absolutely marvelous.
I spent hours outside, watching our cats, listening to the birds, picking a few weeds, visiting with my children, soaking up the sun, walking a little, listening a lot and simply absorbing the world around me.
I cooked a little and I ate meals instead of incessantly grazing. I filled our fridge and prepared it for the upcoming week. A week where I never want to cook, a week where I simply want to grab what is close and run off to work with it, a week where my son and I are never home for a meal at the same time, a week that is driven by the need to be somewhere over most of the meal times.
Instead of paying for a hotel room, I bought groceries. Good, meal worthy kinds of food which filled the fridge to capacity. If you buy it, they will come. And they did.
My children know the way to my heart is through anything I don't have to cook myself. My son and his girlfriend arrived with coffee in hand yesterday morning. They had plans for the day and suggested we go out for supper later. I surprised them with my offer, "Why don't we just eat here instead?" And we did.
After they left, I puttered, I walked, then I came home and hung out in the back yard with our cats until my Youngest Son came home from work.
I listened to the echoes of the past. It was so quiet, I could hear past conversations, remember the lively days of my daycare, reflect on gatherings that have taken place and so very many one on one visits that have been had.
Memories, voices, pictures in my mind and the overwhelming feeling of contentment and cheer washed over, through and around me. I was enveloped in a peacefulness I cannot recall feeling for a very, very long time.
The leaves on the trees caught the breeze and trembled ever so gently. Every now and again, I would feel the brush of the wind touch me but Mom's wind chimes were silent. I watched them, willing them to sing out to me. They didn't have to beckon for me to come outside. I was already there. So they remained silent.
As I watched the birds play within the branches of the massive tree in our neighbor's yard, I thought of the time I spent in Mom's sun room last year watching the birds who used Mom's yard as their playground.
When I sit still and simply absorb the world around me and let thoughts waft in and out and through my mind, I often end up thinking of Mom. I watched her in her stillness a lot. She looked so very peaceful.
When the wind chimes stayed silent, I thought of Mom. I thought of Dad too. I felt their presence within me.
"This is where you need to be right now" is what I heard when I listened to the quiet. So that is where I stayed.
It was bliss. Pure bliss.
Friday, June 15, 2018
A Wireless Weekend
It was the right choice for me. Cancelling plans when you should be counting down the days until a much anticipated date is the right way to go.
I have not quite overcome the "dentist appointment" mentality when it comes to upcoming commitments written on the calendar. Even though it no longer takes a mammoth amount of strength to suggest and plan an extra-curricular activity, as the day looms I cannot wait for it to be behind me.
I tried to ignore it, but the feeling was oozing out my pores. If it was just my happiness at stake, I may have risked it. But there were others involved. Others, who WERE anxiously awaiting this upcoming retreat. Others, who I could have infected with this feeling.
So I cancelled. The weight of the world was released off my shoulders when I simply acted on my intuition. It was the right thing for me to do.
What I did instead, was to plan like I was going away and tend to all that needed to be tended before I hit the road bright and early this Friday morning.
The funny noise in my car has been fixed; the oil has been changed; gas tank is full; car is vacuumed and dusted; the lawn is mowed; my hair has been washed and tamed; the house is vacuumed. And the cats are as tended as they would be any day but as I cleaned their litter box this morning I sighed a happy sigh of relief, knowing I would be here tomorrow morning to do the same thing all over again.
You know you aren't living your best life when you look forward to cleaning the cat litter.
On a happier note, I plan to "unplug" myself from all things Internet and cell phone related. I have an "evite" I must respond to, but after I tend to that I plan to turn off my cell phone, computer and simply rely on the old fashioned means of communication.
I just wrote my "to-do" list for the weekend. It started as all lists do - write a list of chores you want to put behind you. It ended on a happier note:
Happy Friday to you! May you find what you to sustain you throughout this upcoming weekend. And if you want to reach me, please know that phone calls and drop by company is welcome. I'm not unplugging from "life". I am simply taking a break from technology. Television is not included. Not this time ...
I have not quite overcome the "dentist appointment" mentality when it comes to upcoming commitments written on the calendar. Even though it no longer takes a mammoth amount of strength to suggest and plan an extra-curricular activity, as the day looms I cannot wait for it to be behind me.
I tried to ignore it, but the feeling was oozing out my pores. If it was just my happiness at stake, I may have risked it. But there were others involved. Others, who WERE anxiously awaiting this upcoming retreat. Others, who I could have infected with this feeling.
So I cancelled. The weight of the world was released off my shoulders when I simply acted on my intuition. It was the right thing for me to do.
What I did instead, was to plan like I was going away and tend to all that needed to be tended before I hit the road bright and early this Friday morning.
The funny noise in my car has been fixed; the oil has been changed; gas tank is full; car is vacuumed and dusted; the lawn is mowed; my hair has been washed and tamed; the house is vacuumed. And the cats are as tended as they would be any day but as I cleaned their litter box this morning I sighed a happy sigh of relief, knowing I would be here tomorrow morning to do the same thing all over again.
You know you aren't living your best life when you look forward to cleaning the cat litter.
On a happier note, I plan to "unplug" myself from all things Internet and cell phone related. I have an "evite" I must respond to, but after I tend to that I plan to turn off my cell phone, computer and simply rely on the old fashioned means of communication.
I just wrote my "to-do" list for the weekend. It started as all lists do - write a list of chores you want to put behind you. It ended on a happier note:
Happy Friday to you! May you find what you to sustain you throughout this upcoming weekend. And if you want to reach me, please know that phone calls and drop by company is welcome. I'm not unplugging from "life". I am simply taking a break from technology. Television is not included. Not this time ...
Thursday, June 14, 2018
Searching
In my quest of seeking "inspiration", I have found myself back in the archives of the blog writers who speak to me the most.
I have found so much pleasure in going back and reading other people's archives, that it just dawned on me to go back to my early blogging days. My life, my moods, the drama, my coping skills and courage are so very cyclical, that I thought I would find my own answers within what I have already written.
I have been writing within this little blog space for over ten years. My early writing was all about finding my courage, rediscovering myself, my passion and joy for living and writing about the lessons to be learned from the challenges one faces. I wrote with the purpose of finding the lessons in life and my goal was to write with optimism and hope.
As I went back to the beginning, I found this paragraph, written on January 16, 2008:
"There has been a time when my free hours were so scarce that I became very greedy with my free moments. So to be offering to 'share' this precious time .... it's kind of scary. But overall, I think it is a sign that I am regaining some equilibrium in my life again. I'm ready to share my time and myself again. I have a little left over at the end of the day, and it feels good."
The greediness I feel when it comes to sharing my free moments is an ongoing theme throughout the ebbs and flows of my life. Yet it was right at that very time when I made the decision to forge ahead with collecting memories from Mom and her sisters to create their family's book of history and memories.
I was slightly terrified at the prospect and my enthusiasm and fear cycled through my days regularly. I just found these words:
"I knew I should start making my next round of phone calls to line up my next interviews ... and I was stuck. Wouldn't you know it? Mom called me and our conversation got me excited again ...
I had printed off a few of my blog entries and she had gotten them in the mail today. And her words felt so good to hear. Praise coming from your mother is simply the best approval in the world. She didn't say all that much ... but she said just enough to make me feel worthy. And capable of taking on this book endeavor."
That book project was the beginning of a journey that evolved into the rather special connection I felt with Mom. She was my cheer leader throughout my life. Reading that one paragraph reminded me of the many times she was the one who encouraged me through the process of amassing those memories. And so much more.
I miss my most ardent cheer leader...
My thoughts are all over the map as I write that last sentence. So I went back and reread more of my old posts. I wrote the following on January 23, 2008. It sounds like a road map for where I need to go next:
I have found so much pleasure in going back and reading other people's archives, that it just dawned on me to go back to my early blogging days. My life, my moods, the drama, my coping skills and courage are so very cyclical, that I thought I would find my own answers within what I have already written.
I have been writing within this little blog space for over ten years. My early writing was all about finding my courage, rediscovering myself, my passion and joy for living and writing about the lessons to be learned from the challenges one faces. I wrote with the purpose of finding the lessons in life and my goal was to write with optimism and hope.
As I went back to the beginning, I found this paragraph, written on January 16, 2008:
"There has been a time when my free hours were so scarce that I became very greedy with my free moments. So to be offering to 'share' this precious time .... it's kind of scary. But overall, I think it is a sign that I am regaining some equilibrium in my life again. I'm ready to share my time and myself again. I have a little left over at the end of the day, and it feels good."
The greediness I feel when it comes to sharing my free moments is an ongoing theme throughout the ebbs and flows of my life. Yet it was right at that very time when I made the decision to forge ahead with collecting memories from Mom and her sisters to create their family's book of history and memories.
I was slightly terrified at the prospect and my enthusiasm and fear cycled through my days regularly. I just found these words:
"I knew I should start making my next round of phone calls to line up my next interviews ... and I was stuck. Wouldn't you know it? Mom called me and our conversation got me excited again ...
I had printed off a few of my blog entries and she had gotten them in the mail today. And her words felt so good to hear. Praise coming from your mother is simply the best approval in the world. She didn't say all that much ... but she said just enough to make me feel worthy. And capable of taking on this book endeavor."
That book project was the beginning of a journey that evolved into the rather special connection I felt with Mom. She was my cheer leader throughout my life. Reading that one paragraph reminded me of the many times she was the one who encouraged me through the process of amassing those memories. And so much more.
I miss my most ardent cheer leader...
My thoughts are all over the map as I write that last sentence. So I went back and reread more of my old posts. I wrote the following on January 23, 2008. It sounds like a road map for where I need to go next:
Fulfillment
I am feeling absolutely jubliant about life these days!! I have an outlet for my excess words, here on this blog, I have an outlet for my 'creativity' with ''The Book", I have my dancing to fulfill the 'fun' part of my life, I have my work,which is something that I feel like I am doing well. I have my family - I feel like my own family unit is getting stronger once again. I have reached out to so many family members these past 6 months ... it is amazing. Between keeping in touch with my own siblings (planning a birthday gathering for Mom) and initiating these get togethers with my aunts to gather information and stories for "The Book". And friends. Where would I be without my friends? And I feel like I am a equal partner in my friendships ... not the needy one.....
I have patience with the kids, I am enjoying my the parents I babysit for, I feel like I am a better parent, I have something left of me to offer at the end of the day ... whether it is to help someone out in some way ... or actually leave the house and go and visit someone ... I am so very, very ''full''.
I have often felt a void in my life. And it has honestly felt like a hole in my heart or soul in some way. I can feel the difference in the way I eat, I shop and I live when I am ''full''.
I have shopped and filled my cart as though I was 'filling a void' ... I have eaten to the point where I am beyond full but still shovelling in the food to fill something inside me that is empty ... I have rejected people and socializing in my life because I am so hollow inside that I feel I have nothing to offer anyone.
But these days ... I am full. I eat because I am hungry. I shop because I need to. And I actually can leave the house at the end of a day ... and still feel like a vital human being that has something to offer someone else.
I have just returned home from a most enjoyable visit ... my heart and my soul are so content. Feeling like this at the end of the day defines contentment and happiness.
My cup is overflowing ...
I have patience with the kids, I am enjoying my the parents I babysit for, I feel like I am a better parent, I have something left of me to offer at the end of the day ... whether it is to help someone out in some way ... or actually leave the house and go and visit someone ... I am so very, very ''full''.
I have often felt a void in my life. And it has honestly felt like a hole in my heart or soul in some way. I can feel the difference in the way I eat, I shop and I live when I am ''full''.
I have shopped and filled my cart as though I was 'filling a void' ... I have eaten to the point where I am beyond full but still shovelling in the food to fill something inside me that is empty ... I have rejected people and socializing in my life because I am so hollow inside that I feel I have nothing to offer anyone.
But these days ... I am full. I eat because I am hungry. I shop because I need to. And I actually can leave the house at the end of a day ... and still feel like a vital human being that has something to offer someone else.
I have just returned home from a most enjoyable visit ... my heart and my soul are so content. Feeling like this at the end of the day defines contentment and happiness.
My cup is overflowing ...
When in doubt, search your own archives. The answers were within you all along, Dorothy (another slightly paraphrased phrase from The Wizard of Oz).
Wednesday, June 13, 2018
Food, We Need to Talk!
Food, you and I need to have a talk. I need you to know I have been "using" you. Using and abusing you. It is an unhealthy relationship we have, Food. I need to relearn how to treat you because I need you in my life. How can we learn to co-exist in a healthy way?
I wandered away from my second cup of coffee this morning and suddenly remembered the little ways food was a form of a reward and consolation when I was young.
Sundays will forever remind me of Dad going to pick up McDonald's for supper and he would time it so he would return by 6:00 and we would gather around the TV and watch "The Wonderful World of Disney". Only on Sundays. It was family time, it was special and it was something I always looked forward to.
I remember Mom picking up Pringles and we shared that can of Pringles while we watched "The Waltons".
I remember coming home from school every day, making myself a chocolate milkshake, then sitting down and devouring the current book I was reading.
I remember another phase when I came home from school, made some popcorn and watched "Love American Style".
I remember a time when I was heartbroken over not being asked to dance at a school sock hop. I came home feeling sad and Mom made French fries for supper (French fries had a designated day of the week and they were served at lunch time). French fries were my consolation prize.
I just remembered a time when I was quite young and knowing I just wanted to die. I was not courageous enough to act on that urge but quietly decided I would starve myself to death. I remember reading how long the body could last without food. Obviously I never succeeded. Probably because Dad brought home McDonald's the following Sunday.
After I left home, whenever I would walk through Mom's door, the offer of food, conversation, company and support was always there. Always.
Food accompanied me through good times and bad. Then I became independent and started hiding, hoarding it and eating alone. I bought my junk food at different stores so no one would know the problem I had with food. I hid snacks in my closet. You know you are in trouble when you start using food to fill a void.
Was I subconsciously trying to recreate the comfort that food always provided? Was I using food to numb my feelings and fill the void? Did I use food as a reward? As a consolation?
Yes.
They say the first step is admitting it to yourself. "Hello, my name is Colleen. And I am a foodaholic."
I don't know where I will go from here (even though I know where I need to go). I will start at the beginning. I will admit my powerlessness over food. I will admit I use food in a fashion it was never meant to be used. I admit I eat too much, too often and for all the wrong reasons. I will allow myself to delve into that first step of admitting my powerlessness and I will move onto the second step.
Hmmm ... I started writing this post in a tongue in cheek, humorous kind of way. Then I let my fingers fly across the keyboard and I have realized I may be onto something here. It isn't about cleansing, deprivation and eating in a Whole30 kind of way. It is about getting to the bottom of the relationship I have with food.
Food, I am so over you. You hold far too much power over me and I resent you for that. I don't know exactly where I will go, but this is where I will start. I need to redefine my relationship with food. I have a feeling that is not as simple as it sounds...
I wandered away from my second cup of coffee this morning and suddenly remembered the little ways food was a form of a reward and consolation when I was young.
Sundays will forever remind me of Dad going to pick up McDonald's for supper and he would time it so he would return by 6:00 and we would gather around the TV and watch "The Wonderful World of Disney". Only on Sundays. It was family time, it was special and it was something I always looked forward to.
I remember Mom picking up Pringles and we shared that can of Pringles while we watched "The Waltons".
I remember coming home from school every day, making myself a chocolate milkshake, then sitting down and devouring the current book I was reading.
I remember another phase when I came home from school, made some popcorn and watched "Love American Style".
I remember a time when I was heartbroken over not being asked to dance at a school sock hop. I came home feeling sad and Mom made French fries for supper (French fries had a designated day of the week and they were served at lunch time). French fries were my consolation prize.
I just remembered a time when I was quite young and knowing I just wanted to die. I was not courageous enough to act on that urge but quietly decided I would starve myself to death. I remember reading how long the body could last without food. Obviously I never succeeded. Probably because Dad brought home McDonald's the following Sunday.
After I left home, whenever I would walk through Mom's door, the offer of food, conversation, company and support was always there. Always.
Food accompanied me through good times and bad. Then I became independent and started hiding, hoarding it and eating alone. I bought my junk food at different stores so no one would know the problem I had with food. I hid snacks in my closet. You know you are in trouble when you start using food to fill a void.
Was I subconsciously trying to recreate the comfort that food always provided? Was I using food to numb my feelings and fill the void? Did I use food as a reward? As a consolation?
Yes.
They say the first step is admitting it to yourself. "Hello, my name is Colleen. And I am a foodaholic."
I don't know where I will go from here (even though I know where I need to go). I will start at the beginning. I will admit my powerlessness over food. I will admit I use food in a fashion it was never meant to be used. I admit I eat too much, too often and for all the wrong reasons. I will allow myself to delve into that first step of admitting my powerlessness and I will move onto the second step.
Hmmm ... I started writing this post in a tongue in cheek, humorous kind of way. Then I let my fingers fly across the keyboard and I have realized I may be onto something here. It isn't about cleansing, deprivation and eating in a Whole30 kind of way. It is about getting to the bottom of the relationship I have with food.
Food, I am so over you. You hold far too much power over me and I resent you for that. I don't know exactly where I will go, but this is where I will start. I need to redefine my relationship with food. I have a feeling that is not as simple as it sounds...
Tuesday, June 12, 2018
Twenty Years
It has been twenty years plus a day since my youngest son was born. As I think back on the time when I was the one who just turned twenty, I reflect on the differences between "turning twenty years old in 1980" verses "turning twenty in 2018".
By the time I was twenty, I had been married, had a child, divorced, started working at a restaurant which was quickly enhanced by a second job at the bank, I had bought a townhouse the month I turned nineteen, so by the time I was twenty years old I had established a nice little independent life of my own.
Contrast that with my son at age twenty. He is just getting nicely established in his classes at University, he has a part time job at a grocery store, has a group of friends he sees regularly and has established a nice little life of his own, here at home.
I was financially independent (with the safety net of knowing my parents would probably catch me if I started to free fall) and had struck out on my own.
Though my son supports all of his own spending and costs related to running his car, he is rather dependent on living at home and the creature comforts that provides.
While looking backwards, maybe I should have tried to seek out a University degree to better pay my own way going forward. I have recently learned that a degree makes a difference in the amount of your pay cheque (who knew??!). Even knowing that, I believe I would have chosen independence over furthering my education in my own personal circumstance.
When looking at "today", I feel my son has made a good choice by choosing education over independence. While living independently and forging your own way through life is the best way in the world to discover who you are, become accountable and find out what you are capable of, "life" is a very good teacher and will take care of that in due time.
I think of the comfortable life we lead here together under our shared roof. While I know I would and will fully support my son's decision to move out and into his own life when the time comes, I also know that our peaceful co-existence is beneficial to both of us.
As much as I do not enjoy leaving our home to go out and forge a life on my own, I have a feeling that I may not feel that way if there was not another human being sharing this roof with me. Not only do I have a man about the house who is willing to share some of the household responsibilities, I know that I am not alone. I am simply grateful that my son is not being held back due to him feeling like he HAS to stay home.
I think of Mom and my brother when he decided to move out on his own and prove to himself that he was capable of making his way on his own.
As much as Mom encouraged living away from home as the best thing that can happen as a child grows up, she must have missed his presence when he left home. She had various boarders who stayed with her which would have eased her through the transition, but it still marked the end of an era. An era she believed in completely and fully in all the years to follow.
Twenty years. It passes so quickly. It marks the time in different lives, different and unique ways.
It has been a good twenty years. I hope my son feels the same...
By the time I was twenty, I had been married, had a child, divorced, started working at a restaurant which was quickly enhanced by a second job at the bank, I had bought a townhouse the month I turned nineteen, so by the time I was twenty years old I had established a nice little independent life of my own.
Contrast that with my son at age twenty. He is just getting nicely established in his classes at University, he has a part time job at a grocery store, has a group of friends he sees regularly and has established a nice little life of his own, here at home.
I was financially independent (with the safety net of knowing my parents would probably catch me if I started to free fall) and had struck out on my own.
Though my son supports all of his own spending and costs related to running his car, he is rather dependent on living at home and the creature comforts that provides.
While looking backwards, maybe I should have tried to seek out a University degree to better pay my own way going forward. I have recently learned that a degree makes a difference in the amount of your pay cheque (who knew??!). Even knowing that, I believe I would have chosen independence over furthering my education in my own personal circumstance.
When looking at "today", I feel my son has made a good choice by choosing education over independence. While living independently and forging your own way through life is the best way in the world to discover who you are, become accountable and find out what you are capable of, "life" is a very good teacher and will take care of that in due time.
I think of the comfortable life we lead here together under our shared roof. While I know I would and will fully support my son's decision to move out and into his own life when the time comes, I also know that our peaceful co-existence is beneficial to both of us.
As much as I do not enjoy leaving our home to go out and forge a life on my own, I have a feeling that I may not feel that way if there was not another human being sharing this roof with me. Not only do I have a man about the house who is willing to share some of the household responsibilities, I know that I am not alone. I am simply grateful that my son is not being held back due to him feeling like he HAS to stay home.
I think of Mom and my brother when he decided to move out on his own and prove to himself that he was capable of making his way on his own.
As much as Mom encouraged living away from home as the best thing that can happen as a child grows up, she must have missed his presence when he left home. She had various boarders who stayed with her which would have eased her through the transition, but it still marked the end of an era. An era she believed in completely and fully in all the years to follow.
Twenty years. It passes so quickly. It marks the time in different lives, different and unique ways.
It has been a good twenty years. I hope my son feels the same...
Monday, June 11, 2018
I'm Trying
I need a life.
I have been reflecting on my thoughts this past week, most likely brought on due to upcoming plans where I am pushing myself out of my comfort zone.
Make no mistake. I NEED to be pushed out of this comfortable life I'm living, but part of me is screaming "You are already doing all the hard things! Do you really need to add to the list?"
I am going to work each day without falling to pieces and the reciting the cheer: "You can do this. You CAN do this. You can do hard things", as I propel myself out the door. I'm doing it. And it's okay.
It just makes me love weekends a little more than I probably should.
I am coming upstairs and sitting in natural light. My inclination to stay downstairs in my room and hold a Netflix marathon of watching Gilmore Girls and Grey's Anatomy over and over again. But I'm coming upstairs. I am letting myself be drawn to the light.
It just makes me love heading down into my room at the end of the day a little more than is probably healthy. But I am trying to absorb the daylight, the sunshine and Vitamin D. I'm trying.
I am reading in lieu of watching TV. I am trying to absorb new words and thoughts. I'm trying. It is hard. Words still swim on the page and I got so angry with Harper Lee for her wordiness and (what I felt) was an excessive amount of extra information. But I am trying.
I chose four of Mom's books to take along with me on my upcoming technology free retreat. I will continue to try.
I am writing. It isn't deep, provocative and meaningful writing. But I am writing. I am working to re-establish the brain to fingertip connection.
I have a long way to go but I am doing better than I have done.
I want to eat better. I have an emotional connection to food that is unmistakable. The moment I walk in the door at the end of my hard day of being away from home, I cannot wait to find something to eat. I eat before, during and after the point of it feeling uncomfortable. My stomach physically hurts.
I know I am trying to fill an emptiness that has nothing to do with food. I admit this. I haven't overcome it. But I am searching.
I have come so far but I have so much further yet to go.
I have done the hard things and made some upcoming plans. When I wrote them on the calendar, it didn't hurt. I thought I would be okay. But as each deadline looms, I simply can't wait for it to be done, so I can come home, head downstairs and fill the bottomless abyss with food.
I came home at the end of my 12 hour day away from home last week and ate. There was no hunger involved. Simply emptiness. I panicked at the onset of the day and could not wait for it to be behind me.
This is not living. But I'm doing better than I have done. I feel so sorry for the people involved in this uphill battle I'm waging. "It's not you. It's me."
I can do hard things. When I come home and write them on the calendar, it is another victory for me. One battle at a time. Then come home and rest.
It's all about "coming home" for me. There is simply no place like it.
P.S. I wrote this yesterday afternoon and cancelled my upcoming weekend plans last night. I woke up this morning and read these words (in part) by Glennon Doyle:
1. Be Still
2. Know
3. Do
5. Let It Stand.
~ Glennon Doyle
I'm just going to let it stand. The end.
I have been reflecting on my thoughts this past week, most likely brought on due to upcoming plans where I am pushing myself out of my comfort zone.
Make no mistake. I NEED to be pushed out of this comfortable life I'm living, but part of me is screaming "You are already doing all the hard things! Do you really need to add to the list?"
I am going to work each day without falling to pieces and the reciting the cheer: "You can do this. You CAN do this. You can do hard things", as I propel myself out the door. I'm doing it. And it's okay.
It just makes me love weekends a little more than I probably should.
I am coming upstairs and sitting in natural light. My inclination to stay downstairs in my room and hold a Netflix marathon of watching Gilmore Girls and Grey's Anatomy over and over again. But I'm coming upstairs. I am letting myself be drawn to the light.
It just makes me love heading down into my room at the end of the day a little more than is probably healthy. But I am trying to absorb the daylight, the sunshine and Vitamin D. I'm trying.
I am reading in lieu of watching TV. I am trying to absorb new words and thoughts. I'm trying. It is hard. Words still swim on the page and I got so angry with Harper Lee for her wordiness and (what I felt) was an excessive amount of extra information. But I am trying.
I chose four of Mom's books to take along with me on my upcoming technology free retreat. I will continue to try.
I am writing. It isn't deep, provocative and meaningful writing. But I am writing. I am working to re-establish the brain to fingertip connection.
I have a long way to go but I am doing better than I have done.
I want to eat better. I have an emotional connection to food that is unmistakable. The moment I walk in the door at the end of my hard day of being away from home, I cannot wait to find something to eat. I eat before, during and after the point of it feeling uncomfortable. My stomach physically hurts.
I know I am trying to fill an emptiness that has nothing to do with food. I admit this. I haven't overcome it. But I am searching.
I have come so far but I have so much further yet to go.
I have done the hard things and made some upcoming plans. When I wrote them on the calendar, it didn't hurt. I thought I would be okay. But as each deadline looms, I simply can't wait for it to be done, so I can come home, head downstairs and fill the bottomless abyss with food.
I came home at the end of my 12 hour day away from home last week and ate. There was no hunger involved. Simply emptiness. I panicked at the onset of the day and could not wait for it to be behind me.
This is not living. But I'm doing better than I have done. I feel so sorry for the people involved in this uphill battle I'm waging. "It's not you. It's me."
I can do hard things. When I come home and write them on the calendar, it is another victory for me. One battle at a time. Then come home and rest.
It's all about "coming home" for me. There is simply no place like it.
P.S. I wrote this yesterday afternoon and cancelled my upcoming weekend plans last night. I woke up this morning and read these words (in part) by Glennon Doyle:
1. Be Still
2. Know
3. Do
5. Let It Stand.
~ Glennon Doyle
I'm just going to let it stand. The end.
Sunday, June 10, 2018
I Got Luke!
I have been following where my Internet connection takes me this morning (see why I need to unplug from all things technical?! It is almost 12:30 p.m. and I have spent the past 5 hours attached to this silly computer) and it led me to this quiz at Buzzfeed: How You Feel About Rory Gilmore's Life Choices Will Reveal Which "Gilmore Girls" Guy Is Your Soulmate
The result? I honestly thought my answers would take me to one of Rory's love interests, but my result? "You got: Luke Danes". I knew it!
"You're destined to be with Luke! You're looking for someone who is dependable, loyal, and an all-around good guy. While it might take a little while for him to show true feeling for you, you'll have an epic romance nonetheless. Luke is your perfect match!"
While the very last thing on my mind is finding a "love interest", I always knew I was looking for a "Luke". Someone who had been part of my life all along, who was everything he showed himself to be. And then (in my fairy tale mind), there would be the moment:
"Luke can waltz" ... "Luke can waltz?" ... "Luke can *waltz*"...
This revelation, which was no revelation to me, has led me down a Gilmore Girls soundtrack marathon. All I can say is, if I get hit by a semi and don't survive my up and coming road trip, please play "Reflected Light" by Sam Phillips at my funeral.
It is now almost 1:00 p.m. and I have frittered away half of this day at the computer. Yes, I need to be on a mountain top, unplugged from all things technical. Maybe I'll find myself there. Maybe?? I'll find "Luke"!!
The result? I honestly thought my answers would take me to one of Rory's love interests, but my result? "You got: Luke Danes". I knew it!
"You're destined to be with Luke! You're looking for someone who is dependable, loyal, and an all-around good guy. While it might take a little while for him to show true feeling for you, you'll have an epic romance nonetheless. Luke is your perfect match!"
While the very last thing on my mind is finding a "love interest", I always knew I was looking for a "Luke". Someone who had been part of my life all along, who was everything he showed himself to be. And then (in my fairy tale mind), there would be the moment:
"Luke can waltz" ... "Luke can waltz?" ... "Luke can *waltz*"...
This revelation, which was no revelation to me, has led me down a Gilmore Girls soundtrack marathon. All I can say is, if I get hit by a semi and don't survive my up and coming road trip, please play "Reflected Light" by Sam Phillips at my funeral.
It is now almost 1:00 p.m. and I have frittered away half of this day at the computer. Yes, I need to be on a mountain top, unplugged from all things technical. Maybe I'll find myself there. Maybe?? I'll find "Luke"!!
Saturday, June 9, 2018
A Productively Unproductive Day
I have enjoyed a most perfectly lazy kind of day. I followed where the day took me and it didn't take me far. And that is okay.
I am not going to beat myself up over all I could have and should have done. I picked up groceries on my way home last night, then immediately mowed the grass and had a shower. I did all the hard things by 9:30 Friday night. I then declared to myself, "If I do nothing else this weekend, this is enough".
I was sitting by my phone this morning when I got my son's text announcing their first "kitten sighting". Their mother cat had kittens (not quite) three weeks ago but she hid her new family out of sight and reach of predators as well as her humans. She brought them out and moved them to their new home this morning.
I was so happy that little nugget of good news didn't get squeezed into a busy day. In fact, I thought it was a gift that even though Momma Cat had her kittens while her humans were at work, she chose to bring them out on a day while her human was outside tending her flowers. She was ready to show off and share her family.
I accomplished one small task. I retrieved all the motion sickness medication I have collected over the years and stacked them in expiry date order. I will soon need to be ready to take on the heroic deed of being a passenger in a moving vehicle. It's okay. I can do hard things.😣[persevering face]
I googled "Can you take expired motion sickness pills?" and my research tells me it is worth a shot. At least for the medication I am considering.
I also googled "To Kill a Mockingbird is it the most overly wordy book in history?" The jury is still out on that, though I did discover that even though this classic Pulitzer Prize winning novel that was part of both my and at least one of my children's school curriculum, there are others in the world who don't disagree with me.
Though I did find several chapters drier than month old toast, the story did have some redeeming qualities and it was worth fighting through to the finish. I finished reading a book today.
I like when life slows down to a crawl at times. I appreciate it when I don't have to rush a moment, hurry into a decision or race through a day.
Perhaps I should have set my sights a little higher. I simply knew I wanted to take a step away from my work week and enjoy the quiet moments of the weekend as they revealed themselves to me.
Mission accomplished.
I am not going to beat myself up over all I could have and should have done. I picked up groceries on my way home last night, then immediately mowed the grass and had a shower. I did all the hard things by 9:30 Friday night. I then declared to myself, "If I do nothing else this weekend, this is enough".
I was sitting by my phone this morning when I got my son's text announcing their first "kitten sighting". Their mother cat had kittens (not quite) three weeks ago but she hid her new family out of sight and reach of predators as well as her humans. She brought them out and moved them to their new home this morning.
I was so happy that little nugget of good news didn't get squeezed into a busy day. In fact, I thought it was a gift that even though Momma Cat had her kittens while her humans were at work, she chose to bring them out on a day while her human was outside tending her flowers. She was ready to show off and share her family.
I accomplished one small task. I retrieved all the motion sickness medication I have collected over the years and stacked them in expiry date order. I will soon need to be ready to take on the heroic deed of being a passenger in a moving vehicle. It's okay. I can do hard things.😣[persevering face]
I googled "Can you take expired motion sickness pills?" and my research tells me it is worth a shot. At least for the medication I am considering.
I also googled "To Kill a Mockingbird is it the most overly wordy book in history?" The jury is still out on that, though I did discover that even though this classic Pulitzer Prize winning novel that was part of both my and at least one of my children's school curriculum, there are others in the world who don't disagree with me.
Though I did find several chapters drier than month old toast, the story did have some redeeming qualities and it was worth fighting through to the finish. I finished reading a book today.
I like when life slows down to a crawl at times. I appreciate it when I don't have to rush a moment, hurry into a decision or race through a day.
Perhaps I should have set my sights a little higher. I simply knew I wanted to take a step away from my work week and enjoy the quiet moments of the weekend as they revealed themselves to me.
Mission accomplished.
"Time you enjoyed wasting is not wasted time"
~ Marthe Troly-Curtin
Friday, June 8, 2018
The Morning After
The morning after a completely committed day has me feeling light a slightly wrung out dish rag. I wish I could stay home today ...
I left the house at 8:20 yesterday morning and didn't get home until after 8:30 last night. Every moment of the day had purpose and design.
My time was allotted to being where I needed to be, when I needed to be there. I had places to be and I needed to be accountable.
It has been quite a while since I had such a day.
It is only in the afterglow of "the morning after" what most people consider a regular, ordinary day ... that I can honestly say that I truly believe I must be semi-retired. Otherwise such a day wouldn't take such a toll.
Onward. There is only one way through this Friday. Walking out the door one last time. I hope I just get to stay home this weekend.
I left the house at 8:20 yesterday morning and didn't get home until after 8:30 last night. Every moment of the day had purpose and design.
My time was allotted to being where I needed to be, when I needed to be there. I had places to be and I needed to be accountable.
It has been quite a while since I had such a day.
It is only in the afterglow of "the morning after" what most people consider a regular, ordinary day ... that I can honestly say that I truly believe I must be semi-retired. Otherwise such a day wouldn't take such a toll.
Onward. There is only one way through this Friday. Walking out the door one last time. I hope I just get to stay home this weekend.
Thursday, June 7, 2018
A Bonus Hour (or was it?)
I seem to have woken up with Sluggish Brain Syndrome. My thoughts are pinging all over the place and I can't seem to pin them down. My morning puzzles challenged my concentration skills and here I am. It has been two hours since I put my feet on the ground to start this day and I may as well just be getting out of bed.
I just had an epiphany.
I offered to drive my boss to an appointment this morning. Thus, I got up an hour earlier than I normally do. Is that the issue?
I am unsure how the middle of this day will unfold. My boss has told me I don't need to go back to work today. But I offered to drive her around between and after her appointments, so I will go to work and be available. There may or may not be a lot of time in between her appointments so she did suggest we could go out for lunch together if there is time to kill.
The day will end early. I am just uncertain what time that will be. Which would be nice to know, because my aunt & I are headed out to my sisters' camping spot (an hour out of the city) after I'm done work. I'd like to let my aunt know what time that will be. But I don't know.
A quick trip in and out of the city means I should stop and get gas. Most people would pack up something to bring along. My aunt has suggested we bring a watermelon. I'm not sure.
Our little day trip will be fun and enjoyable once we get out on the road. I can't wait to point my car out of the city and head due northeast.
Then there is my next out of city adventure that has invaded my brain space. What do I need to do and what do I need to pack to head off into a technology free weekend? So far, my list includes:
- small screwdriver to tighten the screw in my glasses (it needs to be tightened every other day otherwise it unscrews itself and the lens pops out without provocation)
- books
- puzzles
- pens and paper
I just had an epiphany.
I was worried when our cat didn't come out to greet me this morning as he always does. I puttered around here for the better part of an hour before I checked in on him in his nesting spot. He loves attention and morning is a very sociable time for him. This morning? Nothing. Even when I went to check on him and coax him out of his hiding spot, he simply lifted his head, looked at me, then put his head back down and closed his eyes.
I got a minor pit in my stomach. This is not normal. What if he is sick? I went about my unsuccessful puzzling and put that worry to rest and simply hoped for the best. I would check on him again soon.
Shortly thereafter, he popped out of his hiding spot and started vying for my love and affection. There was not one thing amiss.
I just remembered. I got up an hour early this morning. We are ALL out of sync with this new wake up time.
I am not quite certain if I accomplished anything extra with this extra hour this morning. There is a reason I usually react exactly as our cat did at 5:30 a.m. - I open my eyes, check the time, close my eyes and revel in that last enjoyable hour of rest.
The only thing I may have gained, is losing an hour at the end of the day when exhaustion overwhelms me earlier than normal. And I will wonder why, because I will have all but forgotten this morning's early wake up time.
Wednesday, June 6, 2018
Re-Syncing Our Clocks
I had to replace the batteries in Mom's clock yesterday morning. Then I had to reset the clock this morning in order to re-sync the correct number of chimes with the hour. When the clock didn't reset itself overnight, I wanted to do what Mom would have done. I wanted to call my brother ...
It has been nine months since Mom died. The battery life left in her clock. Yet time just keeps moving onward.
There have been times when I have been out of sync with this forward motion of living, much like Mom's clock. I was stuck in some places longer than necessary. The days were moving forward but I was falling behind.
There is so much to do at first, so your heart doesn't catch up to your reality immediately. I think my heart caught up with our new reality in the dead of winter.
Spring had the ability to reset the clock and put my heart and head in sync with each other again.
I still think of Mom lots. I would have asked her to clarify so many answers for me if she was still here. I wonder what she was thinking and feeling when her ability to conquer what ailed her started to decline. I asked her so many questions at the time. I guess what I wonder the most is what she was going through physically.
Her motto was "mind over matter" and near the end, she even commented that perhaps she could beat the odds. "They do make mistakes you know..." There was the time when she seemed to say aloud what she only meant to think "I have so much to live for ..." This is slightly paraphrased but what I understood her to say is that she had a good life and she was willing to fight the good fight (or at least not show weakness).
I feel like I'm back in real time again. I let my mind wander and wonder but I don't stay there. I have subconsciously hit the "reset" button and I'm living one day at a time, savoring the small stuff, honoring memories and working on making some new ones.
So I called out (okay, I texted) to my brother last night. It had nothing to do with the clock. It had everything to do with simply touching base and checking in. Mom would have wanted to know how things were, so I checked in. In a "Mom" kind of way. I did the same with my Oldest Son.
Mom would have chided me, "You didn't call!!?" she would ask me incredulously at times when I let too much time elapse between check ins.
I feel Mom tapping me on my shoulder and reminding me to check in. Checking in keeps you in sync with "real time". Checking in keeps you present. Checking in keeps you from checking out.
My check in with my brother ended with us looking toward some future plans. My side of the conversation ended with the words "Thank you. I am eternally grateful." And I was. More than he knew.
At the start of our conversation, I was feeling so very hesitant about our upcoming trip. By the end of it, I was starting to anticipate and (dare I say) look forward to it.
I'm so very glad I checked in. That check-in re-synced me once again. My morning thoughts of wanting to call my brother turned out to be exactly what I needed to do.
Thanks, Mom. I needed that check-in more than I knew.
It has been nine months since Mom died. The battery life left in her clock. Yet time just keeps moving onward.
There have been times when I have been out of sync with this forward motion of living, much like Mom's clock. I was stuck in some places longer than necessary. The days were moving forward but I was falling behind.
There is so much to do at first, so your heart doesn't catch up to your reality immediately. I think my heart caught up with our new reality in the dead of winter.
Spring had the ability to reset the clock and put my heart and head in sync with each other again.
I still think of Mom lots. I would have asked her to clarify so many answers for me if she was still here. I wonder what she was thinking and feeling when her ability to conquer what ailed her started to decline. I asked her so many questions at the time. I guess what I wonder the most is what she was going through physically.
Her motto was "mind over matter" and near the end, she even commented that perhaps she could beat the odds. "They do make mistakes you know..." There was the time when she seemed to say aloud what she only meant to think "I have so much to live for ..." This is slightly paraphrased but what I understood her to say is that she had a good life and she was willing to fight the good fight (or at least not show weakness).
I feel like I'm back in real time again. I let my mind wander and wonder but I don't stay there. I have subconsciously hit the "reset" button and I'm living one day at a time, savoring the small stuff, honoring memories and working on making some new ones.
So I called out (okay, I texted) to my brother last night. It had nothing to do with the clock. It had everything to do with simply touching base and checking in. Mom would have wanted to know how things were, so I checked in. In a "Mom" kind of way. I did the same with my Oldest Son.
Mom would have chided me, "You didn't call!!?" she would ask me incredulously at times when I let too much time elapse between check ins.
I feel Mom tapping me on my shoulder and reminding me to check in. Checking in keeps you in sync with "real time". Checking in keeps you present. Checking in keeps you from checking out.
My check in with my brother ended with us looking toward some future plans. My side of the conversation ended with the words "Thank you. I am eternally grateful." And I was. More than he knew.
At the start of our conversation, I was feeling so very hesitant about our upcoming trip. By the end of it, I was starting to anticipate and (dare I say) look forward to it.
I'm so very glad I checked in. That check-in re-synced me once again. My morning thoughts of wanting to call my brother turned out to be exactly what I needed to do.
Thanks, Mom. I needed that check-in more than I knew.
Tuesday, June 5, 2018
My Little "Helper"
I took one of the organizing tips I read yesterday: "Work in small bursts" and made the most of two hours I had at my disposal.
I pulled out one of the Rubbermaid totes full of stuff that needs to find a better home, along with two baskets filled with a variety of memorabilia. Apparently I am an optimistic thinker.
I didn't manage to put a dent in the contents of the Rubbermaid container but I DID empty the two baskets.
True to form, a person empties one thing and something else fills it up. In this case, a cat (I just realized the white basket Jet is sleeping in does not contrast well against the beige carpeting).
And yes, he also managed to push open the lid of the Rubbermaid container and rested for a while atop the collection of "stuff" inside of that. If nothing else, he proved the container was not entirely full. There is still enough room to hide a cat.
My little helper ... who says organizing can't be fun?
Monday, June 4, 2018
One Thing Leads to Another
Here is the rundown of my morning-so-far:
I am feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. Literally. I feel just plain "blech". The food I am eating, the amount of food I am consuming, the way I feel after a Pringle &/or chocolate bar binge and my emotional attachment to food has me looking seriously at trying to get to the bottom of the issue of "eating".
I am presently in a researching phase. I have discovered a program designed to help without the purchase of hundreds of dollars of quick fix supplements and gimmicks. I have stumbled upon Whole 30.
I googled "What can I eat on the Whole30?" and ended up finding a blog with not only a condensed list of do's and don'ts, but a link to recipes and resources to utilize when committing to this 30 day plan.
It was at the bottom of this post, where I followed the temptation of their "You May Also Like" suggestions.
I clicked on the one that said "What NOT to do when decluttering";
Which led to "10 Habits of a Highly Organized Person";
And finally to "Clutter Cowgirl"
I was pleased and delighted to find by reading what NOT to do when decluttering, it made the whole idea of "beginning" feel more attainable.
I sat a little taller and felt a little lighter when I read the list of habits a highly organized person has. I have discovered I'm more organized than I give myself credit for.
I have a feeling that a lot of my food binges are connected with the emotional baggage of "having too much" and feeling overwhelmed is tied up with monumental task of sorting through and releasing the excess.
I took a pen and pad outside with me yesterday morning and started my quiet day of reflection by writing down what needs to be fixed, adjusted and built to start creating the life I have mapped out for my life and our home.
One thing keeps topping the list each and every time I do this. A Murphy Bed and turning the closet into a book shelves in "Mom's room".
Definition: Mom's room - Mom was our home's very first house guest; this was our first guest room; I told her I would forever think of that room as her room; when our home had three spare rooms to offer our overnight guests, Mom would always choose "her" room.
Mom's room is the most heavily laden with emotional ties. Yet I have a feeling "this" is the room that will set me free once I have it looking, feeling and acting in the manner in which I have envisioned. I want to turn this room into a library/den. Will it need to function as an office one day? I hope not. I want this room to feel like a place where you could not only curl up with a good book, but house a guest who simply feels welcome.
"I get stressed out when I have too much" was a realization I rediscovered and reaffirmed last week. Our home is "too much".
As I sat and soaked up the day outside yesterday, I reflected on how our yard was being underutilized. My son kindly offered the consolation that during my daycare days, our yard was probably used more than most people's yards ever were. But the words "how can we utilize it now?" would not stop cycling through my mind.
Our home houses far too much excess. Perhaps, in keeping with the thought of cleansing our cupboards, fridge and freezer of unqualified foods for my up and coming 30 day eating plan, I can begin by not adding more groceries where there is already more than we need.
There are so many aspects of my life that require a good and thorough de-junking. It is overwhelming. Is it a coincidence that my body is uncomfortable with its excess at a time when I am feeling there is far too much I need to let go of within our home? I don't think so.
There are so many emotional ties and triggers to that which becomes "excess". Which leads me to my first course of action. One of the MANY suggestions I have just read is to "work in small bursts". I have just committed myself into going into work this afternoon, so I have two full hours at my disposal. Perhaps I could use the first hour to sort through one of the boxes in Mom's room. Perhaps ...
I am feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. Literally. I feel just plain "blech". The food I am eating, the amount of food I am consuming, the way I feel after a Pringle &/or chocolate bar binge and my emotional attachment to food has me looking seriously at trying to get to the bottom of the issue of "eating".
I am presently in a researching phase. I have discovered a program designed to help without the purchase of hundreds of dollars of quick fix supplements and gimmicks. I have stumbled upon Whole 30.
I googled "What can I eat on the Whole30?" and ended up finding a blog with not only a condensed list of do's and don'ts, but a link to recipes and resources to utilize when committing to this 30 day plan.
It was at the bottom of this post, where I followed the temptation of their "You May Also Like" suggestions.
I clicked on the one that said "What NOT to do when decluttering";
Which led to "10 Habits of a Highly Organized Person";
And finally to "Clutter Cowgirl"
I was pleased and delighted to find by reading what NOT to do when decluttering, it made the whole idea of "beginning" feel more attainable.
I sat a little taller and felt a little lighter when I read the list of habits a highly organized person has. I have discovered I'm more organized than I give myself credit for.
I have a feeling that a lot of my food binges are connected with the emotional baggage of "having too much" and feeling overwhelmed is tied up with monumental task of sorting through and releasing the excess.
I took a pen and pad outside with me yesterday morning and started my quiet day of reflection by writing down what needs to be fixed, adjusted and built to start creating the life I have mapped out for my life and our home.
One thing keeps topping the list each and every time I do this. A Murphy Bed and turning the closet into a book shelves in "Mom's room".
Definition: Mom's room - Mom was our home's very first house guest; this was our first guest room; I told her I would forever think of that room as her room; when our home had three spare rooms to offer our overnight guests, Mom would always choose "her" room.
Mom's room is the most heavily laden with emotional ties. Yet I have a feeling "this" is the room that will set me free once I have it looking, feeling and acting in the manner in which I have envisioned. I want to turn this room into a library/den. Will it need to function as an office one day? I hope not. I want this room to feel like a place where you could not only curl up with a good book, but house a guest who simply feels welcome.
"I get stressed out when I have too much" was a realization I rediscovered and reaffirmed last week. Our home is "too much".
As I sat and soaked up the day outside yesterday, I reflected on how our yard was being underutilized. My son kindly offered the consolation that during my daycare days, our yard was probably used more than most people's yards ever were. But the words "how can we utilize it now?" would not stop cycling through my mind.
Our home houses far too much excess. Perhaps, in keeping with the thought of cleansing our cupboards, fridge and freezer of unqualified foods for my up and coming 30 day eating plan, I can begin by not adding more groceries where there is already more than we need.
There are so many aspects of my life that require a good and thorough de-junking. It is overwhelming. Is it a coincidence that my body is uncomfortable with its excess at a time when I am feeling there is far too much I need to let go of within our home? I don't think so.
There are so many emotional ties and triggers to that which becomes "excess". Which leads me to my first course of action. One of the MANY suggestions I have just read is to "work in small bursts". I have just committed myself into going into work this afternoon, so I have two full hours at my disposal. Perhaps I could use the first hour to sort through one of the boxes in Mom's room. Perhaps ...
Sunday, June 3, 2018
A Quiet Sunday
It's been a quiet and reflective kind of day.
Basically, all I did was sit in the yard. All day.
Dreaming ... reading ... cat and bird watching ...
Thoughts of Mom wafted in, out and through my mind.
As I soaked up this quiet sunny summer like day, I wondered what Mom was thinking and feeling during the quietness that defined her home and life.
As I settled into the day, I thought how nice it would be to just sit here and have someone drop by unexpectedly. I wondered how often Mom may have had that thought.
I thought of Mom's daily routines, her enjoyment of her sunroom, her trips to the mall, her voice on the other end of a phone call, the books she read and the friends and family who did drop by.
As winter was coming to a close and spring had not quite sprung last year, she commented on how peaceful it was just to sit back in her living room and gaze out the window.
She knew the comings and goings of her neighborhood, enjoyed the rabbits who frequented her yard and I remember her talking of a crow that had only one foot. He came back the next year but not the following one.
Mom was an observer of life and had a memory like no other person I know or have known. Her thirst for knowledge was unending. She had a quote, a verse or a song for every occasion.
I miss having her around. It would have been nice to chat with her on this quiet Sunday.
Saturday, June 2, 2018
Saturday Morning Meanderings
I woke up around 4:00 this morning. The millisecond my consciousness remembered what morning I was waking up to, I did a little happy dance inside my head. "Saturday mornings are my most favorite thing!!" I said to myself. Then I remembered I had an appointment to donate blood at 9:20 a.m. Sigh... "I will have to get dressed and leave the house today. Rats!"
I am a home body. Plain and simple. I love being home, staying home and inviting others into our home. I LOVE our home. Maybe I should clean and fix it up a little...
In the name of becoming brave again, I went and made plans to leave this oasis three weekends over the course of the next four months. I hate to say it, but I can't wait to have it all behind me.
I was asked if I was looking forward to our upcoming reunion. My answer: "Sorta ... mostly ... yep?" I'm looking to everything except leaving home. And being outside with ticks, caterpillars and mosquitoes. I'm not a big fan of nature unless there is a roof with a plate glass window or screen to protect me from the insects.
I should start walking regularly. It would be good for every part of my being. But it is caterpillar season and it would be bad enough if all one had to do was dodge them on the sidewalk. It is the ones spinning a web so they can touch down on planet earth that give me the weebie jeebies. Then there are the ticks. I think they came out the minute the snow melted. Ugh! Nature!!
That said, I am feeling a pull towards nature, being outside, away from the hum of technology and stepping far, far away from being "reachable". Maybe I do need to leave home after all?
Guess what?! I'm booked for that little retreat. Maybe I'll love it so much I won't want to come back home....
Where is your happy place?
What grounds you?
Where would you go if you could go anywhere in the world?
What energizes you?
Here is a little Facebook quiz I completed this morning which derailed my original thoughts and diverted them elsewhere. What are your answers?
▪️Favorite smell - Lilacs
▪️First job - Ice cream scooper at "Mac's Big Top"
▪️Dream job - Working out of my home again
▪️Astrological Sign - Scorpio
▪️Favorite foot attire - My ballroom dance shoes
▪️Favorite candy - Sweet Tarts
▪️Favorite ice cream - Vanilla, with mini M & M's stirred in
▪Pet Peeve - Dishonesty
▪️What are you listening to right now - Cat purring on my lap, bird chirping in the back yard, the whirr of my laptop and the tapping of the computer keys as I type
▪️Favorite condiment - Pepper
▪️Favorite Holiday - Thanksgiving
▪️Favorite day of week - Sunday
▪️Favorite animal - Cats
▪️Tattoos - None
▪️Like to cook - No way, no how
▪️Can you drive a manual transmission? Is it like riding a bike? I could 30 years ago
▪️Favorite color - Deep royal purple
▪️Do you like vegetables? Yes
▪️Do you wear glasses? Yes
▪️Favorite season- Spring (after the mud dries up and before the bugs come out, actually I think that day was May 5th)
▪️Dream travel destination - A cruise (it doesn't have to actually go anywhere - just roll the scenery by and rock the ship ever so gently, so I don't get sea sick. P.S. I'd like to watch the whales while taking in the roll-by scenery)
I am a home body. Plain and simple. I love being home, staying home and inviting others into our home. I LOVE our home. Maybe I should clean and fix it up a little...
In the name of becoming brave again, I went and made plans to leave this oasis three weekends over the course of the next four months. I hate to say it, but I can't wait to have it all behind me.
I was asked if I was looking forward to our upcoming reunion. My answer: "Sorta ... mostly ... yep?" I'm looking to everything except leaving home. And being outside with ticks, caterpillars and mosquitoes. I'm not a big fan of nature unless there is a roof with a plate glass window or screen to protect me from the insects.
I should start walking regularly. It would be good for every part of my being. But it is caterpillar season and it would be bad enough if all one had to do was dodge them on the sidewalk. It is the ones spinning a web so they can touch down on planet earth that give me the weebie jeebies. Then there are the ticks. I think they came out the minute the snow melted. Ugh! Nature!!
That said, I am feeling a pull towards nature, being outside, away from the hum of technology and stepping far, far away from being "reachable". Maybe I do need to leave home after all?
Guess what?! I'm booked for that little retreat. Maybe I'll love it so much I won't want to come back home....
Where is your happy place?
What grounds you?
Where would you go if you could go anywhere in the world?
What energizes you?
Here is a little Facebook quiz I completed this morning which derailed my original thoughts and diverted them elsewhere. What are your answers?
▪️Favorite smell - Lilacs
▪️First job - Ice cream scooper at "Mac's Big Top"
▪️Dream job - Working out of my home again
▪️Astrological Sign - Scorpio
▪️Favorite foot attire - My ballroom dance shoes
▪️Favorite candy - Sweet Tarts
▪️Favorite ice cream - Vanilla, with mini M & M's stirred in
▪Pet Peeve - Dishonesty
▪️What are you listening to right now - Cat purring on my lap, bird chirping in the back yard, the whirr of my laptop and the tapping of the computer keys as I type
▪️Favorite condiment - Pepper
▪️Favorite Holiday - Thanksgiving
▪️Favorite day of week - Sunday
▪️Favorite animal - Cats
▪️Tattoos - None
▪️Like to cook - No way, no how
▪️Can you drive a manual transmission? Is it like riding a bike? I could 30 years ago
▪️Favorite color - Deep royal purple
▪️Do you like vegetables? Yes
▪️Do you wear glasses? Yes
▪️Favorite season- Spring (after the mud dries up and before the bugs come out, actually I think that day was May 5th)
▪️Dream travel destination - A cruise (it doesn't have to actually go anywhere - just roll the scenery by and rock the ship ever so gently, so I don't get sea sick. P.S. I'd like to watch the whales while taking in the roll-by scenery)
Friday, June 1, 2018
Short and Sweet
I have spent the morning tying up the Month of May's loose ends and now I'm ready to start over with a fresh and clean Month of June.
I have little time left over before I run out the door to begin the day that marks the end of another work week, so let me leave you with this thought as you embark on your Friday:
Let's leave the world a little better place than we found it today. Small acts of kindness go a long way. We have no idea what another person is going through as they warrior through their day and we cannot begin to guess. Let's spread a little kindness today.
I found this on Facebook this morning and as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words:
I have little time left over before I run out the door to begin the day that marks the end of another work week, so let me leave you with this thought as you embark on your Friday:
Let's leave the world a little better place than we found it today. Small acts of kindness go a long way. We have no idea what another person is going through as they warrior through their day and we cannot begin to guess. Let's spread a little kindness today.
I found this on Facebook this morning and as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words:
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