The Hands Of Time

Time speeds by. It’s true nature is to keeping on ticking. You can’t get back lost time. You can’t jump into the future or to the past. Even though you can finds ways to save time; it won’t be in a bottle so you can use it at the end of eternity. Time is the great evader, just when you think you have enough you are all out of it. You can free up time but we usually waste what little of it we have. Life speeds by. Once I was a little girl, feels like yesterday. I can recall a time when I was just starting to feel like a grownup. Now I am on the precipice to middle age? How did that happen? Youth made me wish away my life so I would be old enough to drive, to go to college, to be an adult. What???? I thought, if only I were an adult, I would be Okay. I could do whatever I want, whenever I want, anytime I want. I kind of miss the foolishness and immaturity of youth {{{sigh}}}.

Wishing, wanting, needing more time doesn’t get you more. If it did I would fill out the required paperwork right now. I need more time. I want to go back to a happier time when the people I loved were young and happy and here.
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Yesterday I snapped this photo of my hand on my Dad’s hand. It struck a chord in me. How much my hands look like my Mom’s. How strong and virile and young my Dad once was. How much I miss my kid sister and my Mom. When did my Dad become old? How did I not notice?

They say that time is a healer but I think that is a lie. Time is a thief. It slowly robs you of the people you hold most dear to you. Live in your moments. Love the people in your life while you have them.  Make time to be with people you love. They want nothing from you but your time. Spend your time with them wisely. Reap its rewards. Go live life! Make memories.

Turns Out…

it was never about the food. All these years I have held myself separate from all of the things I wanted or needed or cared about. It is not the story but the telling of the tale that matters. I was never taught how to manage my feelings. I was raised to believe my feelings had no place. My wants, needs, desires were of no consequence. I was supposed to learn how to table them not handle them. I think that is one of the reasons that I grew up feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. I was a fraidy-cat when I was a kid. No adult ever explained to me that a human body goes through many changes as it develops and grows. I was so fearful I often obsessed with my own untimely demise. My mother just called me ‘Camille”. I was overly dramatic and needed to get a grasp on reality. If it had only dawned on her that I was apprehensive about the changes I was experiencing maybe she would have been gentler with important info, maybe. I taught myself to eat instead of feel. If I eat I won’t need to be in my moments. I won’t get hurt. Turns out the only thing I taught myself was how to buy a bad lie.

Have you ever stood in front of an audience and spoke at great lengths on a subject only to realize that no one is listening to you? Story of my life. I have always felt invisible yet I am not Trish alone. I have my constant companions Fear and Loathing. They seem like nice girls but one never wants to do a thing outside of her comfort zone and the other; well, she just hates everything. It is tough to get one damn thing accomplished. These two scream in my thoughts for attention. Thank Gawd for that ray of sunshine called Hope. I love her. She makes everything seem possible. She speaks quietly, determined to be heard, she lurks in the background waiting for her moments. Her moments are the life changing ones. That voice in your head that says, “I can do this!”, ” I am worthy.” “I crave acceptance not food.”, “I am somebody.” I wish I could learn to listen to her more. hope

When you take Hope by the hand and embrace all that she has to offer, the possibilities seem endless. Live in the moments that make your life better.
Today I took Hope to a WWs meeting. It’s time for her to make another appearance in my life. I lost my way. I tabled the belief I had in myself because my life got hard. I have taken care of my Dad for nearly eight years. He lives with dementia. Over the Christmas holidays my Dad was placed into a nursing home. For the first time in a very long time, I can relax a tad. Enjoy my moments, have some Hope that tomorrow will be better. I learned a lot about myself in those eight years. I am stronger than I thought I would ever have to be. I can be tough. I am a loving person. I learned how to hug. I lied to myself for years that I was unhuggable. Hugging someone means being so close to a person that you share the good vibe, exchange chakra. There is a warm glow sensed between the hugger and the huggy. A good hug equals total acceptance from me. The person who I am hugging has earned my respect, my trust. I also learned that sometimes when you hug someone you give them a little of your Hope. In the giving of a small part of yourself you make someone else’s battle seem worth the fight.