Resuming Normal

Normal is a nice place to be. Especially after life has taken an unexpected turn.

Life can take on a tedious nature when we do the same things day in and day out. It is easy to forget to go above and beyond and make our days matter in small ways.

It brightens my day when I reach out of my comfort zone and talk with someone that I know. I love being on the receiving end of such a call but I find it hard to muster the courage to instigate that contact.

I know that 'someday' invitations are too vague. I feel empowered when I set a date, a place and a time to get together with someone.

I have learned that those feelings that I should call, drop by or do something are actions that I must trust myself to follow through on. I cannot begin to count the times that I haven't followed through on my intuition and I should have. I remember well, the many times that I have followed through and it has absolutely been the right thing to do.

I know that I have limited resources and there is just not enough time in the day or days in the week to get to know people as well as I wish that I could. But it takes but a moment to find a way to send the message "I'm thinking of you" to a person that is on my mind.

I like my tedious little life. I relish finding my ruts and being comfortable in my world. But I know that I could be doing more and being more to those that touch my life.

As much as I am glad to be resuming my regularly scheduled life, I hope that I can retain this perspective and add just a little bit of something extra to my days. Simply by following through ...

If these past few weeks have taught me anything, it is that sometimes simply 'showing up' in some capacity is enough. It is not the grand gestures that make a difference. It is those simple acts of kindness that can turn around someone's day.

Life may be returning to normal. It is my hope that it is 'normal' with a difference ...

A Life Well Lived

How can one put words to the impact one person has made during their lifetime? Where do you begin when someone has a lifetime full of memories and has made a great impact on so many people?

Her son walked us through her life. From her childhood to her first job to marriage, children, grandchildren and many little anecdotes about the way she made a difference to our world. She walked quietly through her life, raised a family and created a home that welcomed one and all.

"I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no “brief candle” for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations."

~George Bernard Shaw

For me, the sadness was lifted when my cousin read those words that his mom had written down in her notebook.

She lived a full life. She lived for her family and she loved each of them uniquely and equally ... her body was simply 'all used up' and tired. I would like to think that if she could be looking down upon her family  and how they have all come together to endure these past few weeks, her heart would swell with joy and pride in the legacy she left behind.

When Will the Walls Come Crashing Down?

The logical side of my brain has been dominant this past while. When I am able to react to life logically I can keep the emotions at bay and keep myself in control.

People that I know well have been dealt some crushing blows. Though I feel deeply for them and do my best to put myself in their shoes, I have kept an emotional distance. I have donned my tough guy suit of armor and shielded myself (and people close to me) from any outward display of the way I feel inside.

I empathize. I listen. I offer my support in whatever way that I know how to do. I do my best to just 'be there' in some quiet, unassuming way so that the other party knows all they have to do is to reach out. I do my best not to let them down.

I know what I need when I am at a breaking point. I need to feel a quiet strength and empathy from those around me. I don't need answers. I don't need to support my supporting person. I don't need the rest of my life to fall apart when I am dealing with a crisis ...

I started thinking about my long term relationships-that-didn't-last and remembered that almost each time the relationship ended (I'm a three strikes, you're out kind-of-girl and each of these relationships involved three break ups before the official end-all break up), it was at a time of crisis.

I haven't over thought this realization but I am starting to wonder if this was part of the cycle. There were many different cycles that were co-existing at the same time within these relationships. This is simply one that I haven't given a lot of thought.

I didn't have the strength to hold someone else up when I was barely keeping it together myself. This must be why I have been wearing my tough-guy suit of armor around those that have been dealt some tough blows. All I know how to do for others in a time of crisis is to be strong.

I will attend my aunt's funeral today. I have been having moments when my walls start to crumble and I can  feel my emotions come to the surface. Subconsciously, I have been reinforcing those walls that are insulating me from what I am feeling. I am so afraid of those walls crumbling around me.

It is okay to feel now. But I feel much safer within my suit of armor and behind these walls of mine ... I think that I need to feel strong. This is how I roll ...

Doing Something Verses Doing Nothing

I went out to get a start at delivering flyers before my kids arrived this morning. My knees went week when I saw the spring/summer catalogues piled neatly outside of the container the flyers were in. I didn't expect that (additional) job today. I felt overwhelmed. I decided to go back inside and have breakfast before I took on the task. Then I went back. It was better to do some of the job before my Daycare Day officially began. I knew that I would never regret doing something over doing nothing.

I have been on the fringes of a family walking through their recent loss. At first I had no idea what I could do that could possibly make a difference. I talked myself into believing that doing something was better than doing nothing at all. I did little more than just 'show up' ... but the family was grateful for that simple act. I'm grateful I did something.

I researched and assembled Mom's family history/memories over the course of four months from start to finish. When I received the end result I was pleased that I had achieved what I set out to do but I wasn't really all that satisfied with the job that I did. When I took on the task of putting Dad's family memories together, I knew that I wanted to do a better job. The very thought of not doing the job until I could do it right took over my thoughts. So I have not completed the job. The research is all but done. But I couldn't put it together because I set the bar too high. So I have done nothing at all. This project has sat in its incomplete state for years. Doing nothing is not getting the job done.

Mom's family's book of memories and recollections is a tangible resource and source of stories and memories of Mom's sister that passed away this week. My aunt's words have been recorded and her voice rings true as exact quotes of what she said or wrote have been written in this family keepsake.

The book may not be perfect ... but it is complete. I may not have made any New Years resolutions or goals. But I must adopt this one phrase into my day-to-day life: "Doing something verses doing nothing wins every time!"

The Tears Inside

I don't cry (often). Sometimes I wish that I did. I need that emotional release from time to time. Which is perhaps why I'm drawn to laughter. I thought that I once heard that laughter and crying are closely connected. It is a natural and easy way to let go and release some of those pent up emotions.

I remember when Dad died.  I was so afraid that I may not be able to stop crying if I ever started. I had attended one funeral before I went to my Dad's. I was completely naive to the process. I remember anger surrounded the very idea of most of it. I thought to myself, "It is like planning a wedding in three days!" I could not begin to understand how a grieving family was expected to accomplish this.

I remember sitting at the front of the church and Dad's casket was right there in front of us. Dad was in there!?!? How in the world could I keep it together when that reality stared me in the face? Why were we on display for a church full of people? Once again, I was consumed by the thought that if I started crying, I may not be able to stop. In public. In front of all of these people! So I did my best to hold it all in and keep my composure.

Mom doesn't cry (often). When she does, it brings me to my knees. There is nothing harder (to me) than to see a strong person lose control of their emotions. I have cried simply because my mom is crying. It breaks my heart to see my strong, stoic mother lose her composure.

I have been reining in my emotions this past week. I have heard and understood the facts. I have stood by a family who has been in the process of letting their mom (my aunt) go ... and I have felt that it is my job to be strong. Because I know when I feel week, I need strong people around me.

I know the reality. My brain has processed the information. My emotions have not caught up. Yet. I am afraid if I start to cry ... I may not stop.

This morning, my eyes feel like they have been crying. I didn't sleep well last night. The emotions are bottle necked somewhere deep inside of me. I feel so much for so many right now. It doesn't show on the outside ... but it is there. I'm afraid to let it go.

Sleep

I am craving sleep in the worst way lately. I don't have time for it. I want it. I need it. And these are the quotes that came to me via a monthly newsletter that I received today which started with the subtitle: "Sleep is good"

The feeling of sleepiness when you are not in bed, and can't get there, is the meanest feeling in the world. ~ Edgar Watson Howe

Without enough sleep, we all become tall two-year-olds.

~JoJo Jensen

Open Ended Invitations ...

She came into this world on Halloween. She celebrated 87 birthdays. She left us New Years Eve ...

She was my aunt. My mom's sister. My cousins' mom. A wife. A grandma. A great grandma. A cousin. A mother-in-law. A sister-in-law. A friend.

My aunt and my mom married brothers. They raised the first parts of their families in 'the hills'. We could see their farm from the top of the hill at our farm. My sisters and my aunt's older children were close to the same age. Both of my sisters wished Mom had lots of kids like Jean did (she had six at the time). They made lots of memories together in those hills. The closeness that our family shares with theirs started in infancy ...

The years went on. Jean remarried and moved to 'the city'. More years elapsed and our family moved 'out West'. Jean started her second family when she remarried. The second part of Mom & Dad's family (me & my brother) are close in age to Jean's three younger children. Despite the wide age range among both of our families, we were destined to be close.

As a kid, I didn't see my aunts and uncles for the cousins. My childhood memories are vague but what I do remember is that Jean's home 'felt' the same as our home. Mom & Jean ran their houses in a very similar manner. The food wasn't too 'scary' at Jean's (I was a very fussy eater and both Jean & Mom were very basic cooks).

As an adult, I moved to the city that my aunt and uncle had made home. They were my port in the storm. There was much drama surrounding that move and they did everything they could to make it easier for me. The words "Thank You" did not encompass my gratitude. I wondered aloud how in the world I could ever repay them for their kindness. I can't remember Jean's exact words but they were something to the effect that there could come a time when they may be the ones in need of a favor and it would all work out in the end.

Five years ago, I called Jean and approached her with the idea of writing a book about Mom's family story. The memories and realities of what their growing up years were really like. I interviewed Jean first. We sat down at her dining room table and she told me the story of her life. She wrote pages and pages of her memories. We looked at pictures. I listened to stories. This was the beginning of a journey that I was meant to travel. I talked to Mom and the rest of her family and started piecing together all of their collective memories. We wrote a book together.

When I started collecting memories from Dad's family once again, I went to Jean first. She had married Dad's brother and she worked for Dad's mother. She had memories that no one else did. She talked. I listened. She reminisced. She lent me her cherished photo albums so that I could illustrate the stories.

I talked with all of Mom & Dad's siblings. But talking with Jean led the way. Knowing Jean as well as I did gave me the courage to know my other aunts and uncles. Jean was the key that helped me unlock this precious gift of  knowing my family ...

Each and every visit with Jean ended with the words, "Drop by. Any time!" I knew that she meant it because their home was a revolving door of friends and family. Everyone knew where they kept their spare key. "Come on in!" was the unspoken welcome as you stepped onto their doorstep. They created a family and a home that I longed to emulate. A home that welcomed all. They gave so much and expected nothing in return.

I wish that I had taken Jean up on her kind offer more often. Her open invitation did not come with an expiry date. But she did ...

I was in Jean's neighborhood just a few days before she went into the hospital this last time. I had an overwhelming urge to drop in but the logical side of my brain talked me out of it. There is a great likelihood that Jean wouldn't have been up to company ... but there is a better chance that my uncle may have needed some.

If I have learned anything this past few weeks, it is not to ignore that inner voice. I knew that I should have dropped by. But I talked myself out of it. I went to see Jean when she was in the hospital. But I should have dropped by to visit her at home more often. Open ended invitations do not last forever.