My mother loved John Denver. When she was in the midst of a depressive episode and there were many she would hijack my turntable and play this guys music off the walls. Today is her birthday. Like her favorite song today has been diamonds and stones. My hubby just lost a favorite auntie a few days ago to an illness, my Mom’s Birthday is today and the anniversary of her passing is on the 11th. What a way to roll in, JUNE! I want you to know you are loved and missed. Your kid sister wears you next to her heart everyday in the form of a little butterfly mizpah to honor her love for you. I know she misses your stories and your wisdom. The lottery hasn’t been the same since you left, revenue is down = )
My birthday wish for you; I hope you truly know happiness, that you enjoy the peace, and that you found Dad when he checked in. He missed you SO much. He loved you with his whole being.
If you are very fortunate in life there are people who “get” you. My personal list happens to be on the short side. My life’s path has been blessed by many people, and yes, some of you have been really lovely but let’s be honest most of you don’t “get” me. The pool of people in my life (people that I hold near and dear to my heart and soul) is rather small. I have never been quite sure if I can attribute that to my unwillingness to meet new people or to the fact that most people are too judgmental and hurtful. Recently this pool of mine has lost some members. There was no lapse in coverage or a failure to renew. Their life cycles just stopped spinning.
Now, even though it is not true, I feel like I am spinning all alone. My cousin Mike was a kind, unique human being; and just like a flash of lightning he is gone. Once again I find myself in the place of regrets, with thoughts unspoken and deeds undone. How did our lives end up on opposite shores? How do I tell you how much you have always meant to me? I can’t. I can only hold onto my belief that somehow you know how golden we once were, before life and dreams of adulthood separated our paths. You will always live in my heart where I hold onto all the wonderful things from my life. You always made me laugh. You always listened when I was certain no one heard. You were more than a ripple in the wave of my life. I owe you more than I can ever pay forward. You were one of the reasons I learned to fly. I hope you know that you are loved. I will forever miss you. Rock the Heavens. Lord knows they could use better music.
A ripple seems like a small thing until you realize how big its impact is. Be the ripple in the waves of someone’s life.
I made this life decision to be better to myself back at the very beginnings of February. I have been tracking, exercising, making better choices. I have been trying to be of a certain mindset. I try everyday. I log all of my foods even the ones I accidentally (on purpose) over indulge in. I have adopted the Elsa way of thinking about negative thoughts LET IT GO! Just by applying a positive outlook on what I am trying to do I am having a positive experience. That is not to say that sometimes I feel angry or frustrated. I am just not letting it color the rest of my day in a bad light. This week I was off from work on vacation. I hate vacation time. I suck at relaxing. We never really go anywhere so having the soul of an adventurer kills me = (
This week for the most part I stayed on point. I used my time wisely, had a few adventures, tried a few new things. People are beginning to notice my weight loss. I hate this part of my journey. The well meaning comments, the head turns, the questions about my health. I struggle with how it makes me feel. Have you ever noticed how difficult it is to accept/acknowledge a compliment? Where does this come from? Why do I hang onto this? It is hard because sometimes I don’t believe I DESERVE TO HEAR IT.
I am afraid I will fail. I am afraid I will succeed. I am worried that I will become to overconfident and fall into the bad practice of only half trying. I have been overweight nearly my whole adulthood. I have never admitted to anyone before that I have an eating disorder. It is a tough burden to own. Not all people who are over weight have an eating disorder. My ED will control my life if I let it. If I minimalize how it affects me or make its power too mighty, I suffer. My over eating has always been tied to whether or not I feel comfortable with who I am. I use food to punish myself. The minute I start comparing myself to others I falter. I become small in my own mind. I struggle with my self-worth. Am I good enough to be loved? Am I good enough to succeed? I let go of that bad mojo. I don’t want or need it in my life anymore.
Am I worth the effort? Of course I am, so are you. I will never be magazine beautiful but I am beautiful. I will never be wealthy but I have so much more than money can ever buy. I AM enough. I don’t need to “fix” my flaws in order to be worthy. I just need to try to make each day better than the last one. You know what? Just like Dorothy, in the Wizard of OZ, everything I have ever needed has always been right there in front of me waiting for me to see.
Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant TO BE = )
Sometimes on this journey we cry. I hate to feel like I am going to cry. Crying makes me feel vulnerable and weak and needy but sometimes on this journey we cry. On my last trip around WWs I had a coworker who went above and beyond what a casual friend does for somebody.The times we had, the fights, the tears, the laughter; ordinary at the time, precious to recall now. It’s strange how coworkers can become like family to you. How friendship can make an unbearable job an easier ride through Hell.
I was afraid to join the local Y. I was down my first 75 pounds. I was eager to try out water aerobics but timid about actually joining a “group” activity. Mrs. C not only talked me down from my ledge of fear; she happily told me she would go with me as many nights of the week as she felt up to. I am around the same age as her children and if truth be told I felt like she was adopting me. I loved her for that. She always treated me like I belonged to her. I got scolded when I was rude, encouragement when I faltered and a shoulder to cry on when I just had to let out the emotions that come flying by when you are doing a great job as an active WW. ( yes, that is sarcasm) Through it all she believed in me.
Mrs.C passed away in July. I am sad. I want giant gumdrops (one of her favorites), I want, I want…I want not to be sad but it is a part of life. I already miss her more than I will ever be able to convey here. She was a great friend to me. I will carry all that she taught me until the end of my days.
I wish I could ease the pain of your goodbye for the ones you loved. I can’t; the only way to the other side of grief is to go through it. You are loved. You are missed. I wish you peace. Until we meet again, my friend.
I stole this from my Facebook page. After I read it I sent the poster a comment asking her what my role was in her life.
Life is about people. What role would you choose? I want to be the rare one. That one person in your life that helps you see that you are loved, special and wonderful just as you are because YOU are you. Even if we only know each other for the briefest moment in time. We all have value. We are all worthy of the love we are given.
Enjoy the people in your life. Time is fickle and there are no guarantees given. Better to make a memory than a regret. So thanks Katie for posting that pic. You made me smile and you made me think.
As the stream of hot water cascades down my body I begin to relax. The tension that I have been carrying around in my muscles begins to ease. I stand there with my back against the flow of water. The heat feels amazing and for the first time I cry. It rains in my shower. I am so sad that I can’t share my sorrow. I feel like I have no one to talk to. I have anger I don’t know what to do with. I feel defeated and small. Even when life seems to be moving along a set path the wind changes course and the path moves. Its subtlety goes unnoticed until it blindsides me. I try to pay attention as closely as I can. I am constantly making lists. Dad’s needs, hubster’s needs, my needs. What both households are out of. A list of bills to be paid, when to pay these bills when I can, if I can. The last eight years have not been an easy ride.
Dad’s dementia has pretty much been of a certain level. He is pleasantly confused. More often than not he is happy and a tad confused. He doesn’t know what day of the week it is. He doesn’t remember how my Mom or my kid sister died. My Dad thinks that they are out somewhere having lunch. Who am I to correct him? Ignorant bliss. In my humble opinion, this is the ONE blessing of dementia. On the other hand, he forgets my birthday, holidays, anything of importance. His reality is unlike those around him. His world is only about his wants, his needs, his anger. Dad gets angry. It doesn’t happen often. Usually it is over trivial things that have importance only to him.
I couldn’t find him. I called his apartment that morning on schedule. By 11:15 I was beginning to worry. I called the neighbor. The horror thoughts raced through my mind. Maybe he fell and couldn’t get up; maybe he felt faint and then passed out; maybe he had wandered off: maybe he died. After the fourth ring the neighbor picked up. She scarcely got out a hello before I blurted out, “have you seen my Dad today?” Yes she had. Right before my every morning call he had an episode of weakness and a sudden feeling that he was going to pass out so my Dad( king of can’t remember shit )dialed 911 unassisted. She had tried to get over to his apartment before the first responders came but they beat her to his door. She tried to reach me but my cell went straight to voicemail. After the third try she left a voice message of her own for me to call her ASAP.
The paramedics took him to the hospital ER and thus my life, his life changed forever. He was admitted with the possibility of a mild case of pneumonia. In all likelihood my Dad would be just fine after a few days of meds. He would once again return home to live in harmony with his altered reality. That, however; is not what happened.
My mother died June 11, 2007. I started taking care of my Dad the day of her funeral. Maybe that’s the day his soul gave out. He couldn’t handle that she passed. My Dad loved my mother with his whole being and when she died I think he broke. He has never been quite the same,not for one minute or one second of any day. As time marched on he got a little more forgetful, a little more fearful, a tad bit more frail. I took on more responsibility. I made out the grocery lists. I made sure his pills were matched out correctly. I made out the bills. I took him for haircuts. I took him to all his doctor appointments. I shopped for his clothes. (Yes I have great taste) I took him to church. Just me and Dad against the world. Until this last trip through the ER.
My father, whom I have cared for and loved and did my best to keep safe was being taken away from me. Okay so maybe that’s a little harsh. A case manager and a social worker at our local hospital felt that my Dad was now too frail of body and mind to be allowed to be released on his own recognizance and needed to be remanded to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. To be placed in a facility with around the clock supervision. Yup, you guessed it, a nursing home.
I can’t lie. I have thought about it. I am getting tired. I am not Wonder Woman. I wanted to fight the good fight. I didn’t want to give up on the man who never gave up on me.
Does in rain in YOUR shower? It does in mine everyday.
Did you see that? A blur rushes past and I am not sure what it is I have seen/not seen. Am I invisible? Did that person just talk around me as if I am not in the room? not sentient? not alive? What the hell!?! Ever feel like that? like the person you are on the inside of your mind flies by you? no longer willing to stick around because they’ve been pushed to the back of the line so many times they are not sure they have any value left. Relax I am not invisible or crazy. Even though sometimes I’d liked to be one or the other if only for short spurts of time to get me out of laundry or housework.
There is always someone who thinks they “know” you. Somehow through observation and years of exposure to sides of you, these douche kabobs “think” they KNOW you. It makes me angry. Yes, I may react to certain situations in a scripted predictable way but that doesn’t guarantee the same results time after time. Do you look at me closely? do you see the rage I am barely controlling? would you be so bold if you knew I hated you enough to cause you harm? Most people who “know” me don’t know how dark my dark side is. I like it that way. Not because I am trying to deceive anyone. I am being honest. Each one of us has personality quirks that we are not proud of or want not to draw too much attention to. Isn’t that what make us so intriguing? individual? unique?
Anger is a dangerous emotion to let roam around freely. Perhaps people throw that saying around about “knowing” all about you because they don’t know. They don’t know how to help you through a rough patch. They don’t know how to make you feel safe, wanted, loved. We are all just people floating on the sea of Humanity hoping for a few glimmering minutes in the sun, aren’t we?