Tag: love

Pardon the Interruption…

kidtrish1 Comment

…We now return you to our regularly schedule programming. You never know what you are made of until you are forced to see ;  )

My Friday evenings are usually spent thinking of something inspirational and thought provoking for my group of fellow WWs. I try to blog before our weekly gathering on Saturday morning. This week was tough for me. Life dealt me a tough hand that ruined my week that threw me into a spin. My beloved Pops passed away in his sleep Wednesday night.

I knew someday it would have to happen, like most people I assumed we’d have another day. My bad. Let me say I have no regrets. I never let anything go undone when it came to my Dad. He gave me so much yet I feel like I gave him so little in return. I owed him a great deal. He taught me about perseverance, strength, love, beauty. He was not a perfect man but he was a great one. I have cried a lot in the past few days; but, I have also smiled and laughed and have been touched so profoundly by other people’s love for both me and my Dad.

I am truly blessed. My heart has grown three sizes. I thought I might not be able to keep on track and manage my foods.  I haven’t felt the need to feed my sadness. He is at peace. So I feel at peace. Whatever time we had together, whatever there was left to do that’s not yet done is okay, it’s all good. We had a great run, didn’t we DAD? I will stay the course and I will make it to my goal whatever it is because I have what I need to get there. He believed in me. He loved me. He had faith that everything always turns out just the way it is supposed to. I don’t intend to let him down. I am his daughter.

Never Give UP on the Person You Are Meant to Be

Faith is believing. I believe that someone will always be there in my corner guiding my way. These are my angels: Dad, Mom and my kid sister. Until we meet again all of my love, ❤ Trish

A heartbeat…

kidtrish13 Comments

…that is all it takes. One heartbeat between life and death. He was a good man. He had a family. He loved the people in his life in the best possible way; by being there. This man was my Dad. I love him. He taught me to live, to be kind, to drive a car, change a tire, whistle like nobody’s business. All of the very best things that I am are because of him. He was my biggest fan and my most favorite companion. I get my singing talent from him. He loved a good laugh and horrible jokes. To me he will always be my SUPERHERO.

He could yodel and had a great Tarzan yell. He loved country (& Western) music and dabbled in turning a tune or two. He believed in a higher power and tried never to miss church. He was a good man. He had a wife and three daughters. He loved us with his whole being. My Dad never had much but was always ready to share what he could.

Over time my Dad lost many things, a daughter, a wife, precious siblings, memories he wanted to know. My Dad had vascular dementia. He never lost me. I had him in the palm of my hand. I protected and cared for him with everything I had. We made memories that will last me the rest of my life. My Dad passed away last night. There will never be a day that I won’t miss him. There will never be a day that I am not thankful for all the wonderful memories we made.

“You know that I love you Dad?” Yes, I know. I love you too, sweetheart.”

Go dance in the stars Pop… You are finally FREE!!!!assorted 014

 

EHFAR

kidtrishLeave a comment

My niece had a bumper sticker on her car that said : EHFAR, being unhip to the lingo which happens generationally, I asked innocently enough what is EHFAR?  careful to use correct pronunciation. She looked at me like I had head lice and said, “what?” so I pointed to her car, her face lighting up, “Oh, that means EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON.” she replied, throwing a giggle my way. I remember thinking to myself “that is the stupidest thing I think I have ever heard, but whatever;  everyone needs guideposts to live by.” I only let EHFAR linger in my thoughts for a brief moment before discarding it to the Pile of Malarkey I keep around in the back of my grey cells in case I need info on trivia night. Recently I have been revisiting this idea.

Things happen around me that I have a hard time making sense of. Everyday events some small and insignificant,some life changing. EHFAR makes me angry. I want to shake my fist at the sky and yell and stomp about. I am not one to easily accept the notion that shit happens for a reason. It is a meaningless,all encompassing idea some tree hugger came up with to explain away a trivial pain of a friend.  But? what if they are right?  Have I gotten so busy living life that I have missed signals? What if EHFAR is like a stop sign at a busy intersection? warning you to pay attention? but being wrapped up in a thought bubble you miss it and blow through the sign? what then?

Knowing the reason why something happens does not necessarily give you peace. Sometimes it just makes a mystery more complex. It often fills me with more questions than answers. Everything does happen for a reason. I am just uncertain to know what the reason is.

The Hands Of Time

kidtrishLeave a comment

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.
img_20160514_140136911_hdr.jpg

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.

The Women of Book Club

kidtrish1 Comment

What happens at Book Club stays at Book Club ;  )

Growing up I desperately wanted to be “that girl”. The one all the boys wanted to date and all the girls wanted to hate. I foolishly dreamt that one day I would figure out how to be the smartest, prettiest, most wonderful example of femininity the world would ever hope to know.  Instead I turned into the hater. On the outer edge of every social group one can imagine. I spent a lot of miserable years being unhappy about who I was instead of embracing who I was becoming. I never did become “that girl”.  Time, love, and life experience have turned me into something more rewarding; ME ! I have had to learn some very tough lessons in life about loss, love, acceptance and friendships. It is important to the people in your life to know that you value them.

On my way home from work today I was thinking about all the wonderful women in my life. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had told any of them how much I enjoy their laughter, their companionship, their insights. My friends mean the world to me. Somehow I never seem to tell them that. Shame on me.

I have recently fallen into a group of women who like to read. Well, I throw that out there loosely because truthfully I think we like getting together to enjoy each others’ company. There is a lot of laughing, chatting, gossiping( a tad), eating and enjoying an adult beverage or two. Eventually as the night wears on we get around to whatever book was supposed to be read. I belong  =  ) These women have allowed me into their circle. At first I thought that maybe I shouldn’t join. I had only attended one or two book club gatherings as a tag-a-long. I tagged along with my bestie. I hadn’t formally been asked to join but I was curious and my BFF assured me that the “girls” would love me.

I have a touch of social anxiety that I try to keep hidden. I make terrible first impressions. I feel uncomfortable surrounded by people I am not overly familiar with. I fidget. I give the false impression of over confidence when in truth I am just trying not to fall in on myself with embarrassment. I didn’t have many friends growing up. I guess I have never learned what it is I am supposed to do with them? Being myself seems to work so I am trying to do that more.

I love belonging. I looked forward to going to club night.  I have read all the books. Some I liked, some not so much but I like my new friends. The ladies of this book club are amazing. I am honored to be part of you. I enjoy our time together. You have taught me things when I wasn’t looking to learn. I am more relaxed in myself. I listen better. I am learning to enjoy the moments. wpid-20150712_174207.jpgI am blessed.

 

 

Support

kidtrishLeave a comment

This Saturday I am celebrating a NSV or to the non-Weight Watcher a non scale victory. Last week’s meeting was about support. Everyone should have a good support system in place. It is life’s journey made much more fun and adventurous. It is amazing what happens when you have the support you need. A statement that has never been truer than this week. Most people are a little shy about saying things that need to be said. I have never suffered from this problem. I have often gotten myself into trouble because of it. Surprised? Well, you shouldn’t be.

I have been giving all of my best efforts to myself and this new WWs program. Some moments are really tough. A slide towards the danger zone difficult to steer my way out of. I have talked myself down from the cliff of doom of few times. I nicknamed the weak moments of good Trish/bad Trish, the cliff. I see it as me standing on the edge of a cliff wanting to reach new heights yet finding myself rife with uncertainty. I need to make the choice. Will I be good Trish? and do what’s right for me or will I be bad Trish and choose not to care, jeopardizing everything I am working so hard for? This journey I am trying to always pick good Trish. I find that every time I chose the right thing for myself I am more happy, more at peace, more confident.

It is a wonderful feeling when you weigh-in and the scale rewards you for your hard work. I had a tough week. I barely hung on some days. I was not overly surprised that I was up a little bit. I am still here. I am doing this for the long haul. There will bumps along my way. It is on me whether or not I trip and fall. I am learning new things everyday about myself and my strength.

I have been lucky in my adult life to have a great support system. My hubby, who loves and supports my journey. He is very accepting of the hot mess that makes me the girl of his dreams. Every Saturday morning he gives me a pep talk before I leave for weigh in.  My bestie, without her I would wither and die. She brings light to my soul. She makes me laugh. She is my adventure buddy. She is the secretary at my piss and moan sessions quietly “taking notes” until the bullsh*t meter gets too high. She brings me back to reality with a quick quip and the best giggle. She makes me see that not all is lost. The readers of my blog, thank you for all the positive feedback both in person and behind the keyboard. It gives me a sense of accomplishment I have difficulty accurately expressing. The peeps at my WWs meeting, I enjoy every single minute we are together. You make me think, laugh, and sometimes cry. You are a happy thought during my week when things get tough. I can’t lose without you. Only at WWs can you win when you are losing  =  )

I have never been happier to be a LOSER. Never give up on the person you are meant to be.

 

Eleven

kidtrishLeave a comment

Twelve is my all time favorite number but I have always had a thing for eleven. An odd number I know but there is just something so easy and smooth about 11. Stand together and we are strong = ) two pillars side by side shouldering an enormous weight. Today I needed those pillars of strength. I almost let anger make my food choices today. I stopped and thought about how angry I was; how angry I still am. I didn’t let anger win. I won. I have been working my butt off on this new program. This Saturday it will be eleven weeks . I refuse to give up on myself.  I chose my health over my anger. =  ) Yea me!!!

I am liking this new version of WWs. Food is not the way to calm emotion. I am trying not to feed my feelings. When I make that mistake I am never quite full enough. I will eat and eat and eat desperately trying to fill a void. Food can not make you happy. It has taken me a lifetime to realize my happiness is something I am responsible for. It doesn’t come in a jar or a fancy package; it comes from within.

Owning your emotions or taking responsibility for them is not an easy task. Emotions can make you feel so wonderful and so uncomfortable at the same time. Only I can make myself feel worthless and small within my own mind, never speaking a word aloud when I am feeling vulnerable or afraid. It is tough to stand up to yourself and demand better treatment. It is not ok to take the back seat to your own life. I decided that on this road trip I would be the one in the driver’s seat. Windows down, tunes blaring, happy to be….able to do so much more than I have ever allowed myself to.

Be happy with the wonderful hot mess you are. Love the who that you are. Be the best example of yourself for yourself because you are worth it and you deserve to be at peace. Who am I? To some I am everything; to others a whisper on the wind. I am who I am. Lover of life. Good friend, good wife, a writer, a laugher, a reader, a comic, a singer of songs.

Never give up on the person you are meant to be.

 

Where Does It Come From?

kidtrish2 Comments

Inspiration for a blog post comes from many things around me. Little things that everyday people miss everyday. The smile on a little girl’s face when she looks up at the man she calls Daddy, the homeless man on the street holding his sign pleading for 2, the school kids heading home from class on a beautiful day, a small child crying seemingly unhappy at not being understood. I see. I have trouble not thinking about all of the things I see. The world is not a safe or friendly place. My mother often struggled with everyday things.  She struggled keeping the house clean, food in the fridge, clean clothes in our dressers. She suffered the whole of her life from mental illness. I often felt growing up that we were teetering on the edge and the slightest upset in its delicate balance would spell ruin for our family.  My darkest fear is to be homeless.

The other day on my way home from a doctor appointment I saw her. A young woman with a cardboard sign on the side of the road. She could have been my niece. She was young, pretty, her clothes clean.  She looked out of place, she looked cold. She made me sad. I admit to you that I didn’t roll down my window. I am not sure handing someone a dollar through the crack of my window could change the course her life is on. It did however put a bump into my world. I can’t shake what I see. What I keep seeing. Where has the kindness in the world gone? the trust? the hope? the love?

I do not know this girl’s story. I am not sure if I asked her that it would be a truth filled tale. She may have fallen on hard times, lost her job, or her way, or tripped out on drugs and still hasn’t made it back to the “real” world. All I know is that every time I see someone on the street holding an overused cardboard sign my soul cracks just a little more. My heart gets a little heavier, tears manages its way down my cheek. Life is a precious gift that people throw away. When will we learn? Will we ever learn?

Kathy’s Song

kidtrish1 Comment

She was there. My Pops had just been transferred from the hospital to enter the uncertain life as a nursing home resident. In the short span of his first week he was busted from the fifth floor to the fourth because he needed additional looking after. Which I learned really meant that my dad in his confusion would sometimes enter other patients rooms and well, wreak havoc. He didn’t mean any harm but nonetheless disturbances of any kind can have a very negative effect on the frail and/ or elderly who are just trying to have a little peace in their lives. I wasn’t happy the staff wanted to move my Pops but I understood so with minimal crabbing from me I helped the CNA move my dad to his new digs.  She was there.

Our first meeting is difficult for me to recall, not because I have memory issues but more from the level of stress I hadn’t yet sorted out. Everything that was happening to Dad and I still hadn’t sunken into my thought process. I was feeling so overwhelmed and beaten. I felt numb. She was there. Her name is Kathy. Her hubby was one of the residents at my Dad’s new “home”. She was friendly and talkative. I felt comfortable in her presence from that first moment. She showed me around the fourth floor and gave me a few pointers about the staff, the meal times, how to control the heat in Dad’s room, where to find extra linens. By reaching out to me she changed that moment of fear for me. I relaxed a little and I felt a wave of relief I was sure was never going to come.

I am sure she has no idea how much that day changed me. It changed the way I view my Dad’s living situation. It changed the way I am towards other people who have loved ones suffering from illnesses and dementia. Even though each of our battles are unique to us we are all in the same war; fighting to give our loved one the best “rest of their lives”.  My Pops was only at his first nursing home for two weeks when a bed became available closer to my home in a better environment. I jumped at the opportunity. I am not sorry that I moved Pops. We are both happier and healthier now. Kathy’s hubby has moved as well into a better living arrangement. I couldn’t be happier for them both.

Kathy and I keep in touch as much as possible, gotta love the interwebs, and today we went to lunch. I had a wonderful time. Thank you Kathy for being the light of hope I needed so badly that day. Never forget that one person can change the world. Never underestimate what you mean to someone else.

Love,

Trish  =  )

Today Was NOT That Day

kidtrish2 Comments

That day when you are the most uncertain about an important outcome, that day you wish would never come to fruition, that day, that one day you dread the most…  but today we were smiled upon, we were spared. As anyone who reads my blog knows I have a parent with dementia. He is my Dad; my hero, the man I love more than words can ever put a spin on. Our journey with his illness has not been easy. He and I have done this largely on our own. We have tried to always face it with laughter, love, and the occasional spat. I always have his back just like he has always had mine. Dad thinks he lives in his home town. He doesn’t know what day of the week it is. He doesn’t know current events, or what he last ate; and that is all ok with me. He knows who I AM, so to me he knows everything he needs to know and I see to the rest of it.

I have been there to see my Dad lose a child, lose his wife, lose his way to this terrible disease but never once did I fear that I would lose him, until today. For the first time in a long time I looked at my Dad as an elderly gentleman who had lived better days. I am Dad’s link to the outside world. I make it my duty to take him to all of his appointments outside of his nursing home. I am the keeper of his history. I am his advocate, his voice. I try to do my best to do what’s best for him.

Today Pops had to go to the local hospital for a procedure for some swallowing issues he has been having. Numerous questions regarding his health were directed towards me. I provided the answers they were seeking as best as I could. IVs were started. Charts were checked. I helped Pops put on his hospital gown and hairnet (he looked like an ugly lunch lady).  As the medical team rolled him away to his procedure I found myself fighting a wave of panic; the light of realization going on in my head that Pops is not immortal. Fearful thoughts raced through my head and I found myself fighting back tears.

I would like to tell you that I rallied quickly, banished those thoughts and moved on; but, that would be a lie. Instead I nervously picked my way along the hallway to a cafeteria, bought a banana, sang a chorus of Chances Are to a cashier, caught my breath and my composure. I found a bench to sit at to wait for the nurses to call me when Dad hit the Recovery Room. I managed to make it through the banana and a yogurt parfait( I went back for that) and was just purchasing a coffee when my phone rang. Seeing the number on my cell gave me a start but it was a call I had to answer. I was relieved to hear from the surgeon that things had gone well. My dad tolerated the procedure ok and he would be going to recovery soon    =  )

Live for the people in your life. Love with all of your being. No regrets. Be in the moment, make a memory. People often say to me that Dad is lucky to have me but I think I am the lucky one.