WRAPPING UP TWENTY TWELVE: THE PRESENT

Wrapping Up Twenty Twelve: The Present.

Sit in'. Look in'.
Back. Stabs.
Flashes.
In. Site.
Flush. Stress.
Clear. Moments.
Know. More.

...


"Great Expectations" can become "Bitter Disappointments". People are only human, after all. Accepting this thought, makes all the difference in a mood, at least for me.

In the end, the disappointment I find hardest to get over is when I disappoint myself. It's usually because I let myself expect too much from others. At 56, I should know better!!

Today is a good day for me to write, because I feel content. My words when written in anger, hurt or sadness, become a blur of emotional rage and sorrow. An arrogant, ranting pity party for me, me, me.

Of course, this piece will also be "all about me"! All about a couple of things I feel I've learned this past year. It's my opinion, and no one has to agree with me. In fact, feel free to give me yours!  I'd like to know what you think.

But, first, please hear what I have to say, and try to understand where I'm coming from. It might be a totally different place from where you are or have been.

...


Over the weekend, one of my sisters told me of how a friend of hers was having a difficult time dealing with the absence of a few of his extended family members at his elderly mother's funeral. He is still very hurt and angry.

I'm not sure of the exact details, but one of them was some of his in-laws didn't cancel their prepaid, long time planned tropical vacation which they were scheduled to leave on, the day after they heard his mother died. When his wife's family went to their house on Christmas, he wasn't there.

I feel for this man, he's just lost his mother, who he must have been very close to. I recall when my husband's father died, almost 26 years ago, a friend of ours didn't attend the funeral, because he was going away. My husband was very hurt. Yet, if you were to ask him (or me) who was at the funeral, we wouldn't have a clue.

My husband has long since changed his view, and now understands, life goes on. Funerals are just an event. He forgave his friend years ago. His friend is still a part of our life, not just a funeral attender. We found out we could understand and relate to his decision when we decided to not attend another friend's parent's funeral.

As you may remember, I hate funerals. A quick recap in case you didn't catch that piece: There were hundreds of people at my father's funeral, all saying what a great man he was. I wanted to shout in their faces: Why didn't you visit him when he was alive and tell him yourself!? It's too late now.

This friend of my sister, had expectations of what people should do, and people who loved him didn't meet his expectations. In his own way, he was "punishing them" by not being there on Christmas, whether he knew it or not...?

.....


It's all about what we can control, isn't it? Reality is that we can't control much, if anything at all.

Being the one who makes the decisions, or being in charge, can give the illusion you are in control. Sometimes it takes just one unexpected source to fuck that up. That's where going with the flow is often a good thing, unless it's a dam bursting or a river flooding.

Then, again. There are times we can take actions to improve our quality of life. I am in the process of figuring this out, still, but I do see that sun 'light at the end of the funnel' cloud.

When I joined this Blogsite back in January, I had hopes of my emotional life improving rapidly. What I didn't know then, was that I had to work through my programmed expectations of who "should" be helping me deal with the issues I had back then.

I also needed to understand that I could make my own choices, that just because I was told "what I should do or shouldn't do" most of my life, I actually am a grown woman with my own brain and my own mind. Just because someone else doesn't like my ideas, doesn't mean I have to trash them.

At one time in my life, I admired some people too much. In fact, one example, who was practically a Muse of mine many, many years ago, had become a pathetic disappointment. I began to resent her.

But, once I really looked back, not over the top of my rose colored glasses full of giant awe, but at her constantly topped off giant glasses full of rosé colored wine: "Aw",  I knew that despite of all of her past impressive successes and her acquired wealth, she must now be miserable.

There are some people in both my husband's and my life who improve our moods just by talking briefly to them on the phone. Spending time with them sends our spirits into such a positive spin of inspiration, that we always look forward to hearing from them.

They are considerate, and understand we may be in the middle of something, so they take special care to check first. Yet, these are the people we wouldn't mind just popping by! These are people I want in my life.

Then, there are the ones, who seem to just barge in and drag us down. They have a knack of showing up right when things may be going good. It's even worse if things aren't going smoothly.

I feel for my husband when they bother him in his shop. Their presence interrupts his workflow: He can't keep working on a technical project that needs full concentration while someone is standing around there, maybe wanting something and/or talking, or gossiping. So, he'll stop working, so he doesn't fuck up the job.

I feel his stress and want to shout: "Hey: Let's all go to your husband/wife/child's workplace and just stand around."

I don't, because I've already alienated many "users" by telling them how I feel... YES: The truth hurts, but, not telling it eats away at the insides. Lies fester, resentment grows even more!

So, the "New Year" is approaching. Physically, I feel better than I have in a long time. Emotionally, I have had way more good days than at this time, last year. I no longer wake up with a desperately, low ache of doom in the pit of my stomach.

I am glad I worked it out without needing to get any prescriptions for mood altering drugs, so that the process wasn't delayed!

Lately, there are very few "set back" days. When they do occur, it's usually caused by some thoughtlessly made comments by people who should know better: but then, that would be my expectation of them, so they just might not meet it!?

I now wake most days with at least a spark of hope, and a twinge of energy, which often grows after my first cup of coffee!  I'm thrilled and grateful I have a supportive husband, loving children, wonderful friends and the best siblings in my life who I can count on, and who can count on me. I am looking forward to the future, I take one day at a time.

Thanks for all of your support. You are my heroes.

Happy New Year!
xxxx

PS After flows...

2012 is coming to an end...Some things I know:
I didn't make these up, but I like these! They are teeny bits to chew on, so they aren't hard to swallow:

- Can't change the past, so don't dwell on it.

- Hug your kids. Tell them you love them: EVERY time you see them. (Teenagers act like they hate it, but they need it the most!)

- This is YOUR life. Do it YOUR way.

- It's okay to change your mind.

- If you get the chance to drop everything and get away: DO!

- I just saw this one on the internet and I agree with it: "The stricter the parent, the sneakier the kid."

- Take my advice. Or don't.

- Play your music loud and often!

- Throw the car into neutral if sliding on ice. (That's an old one, I used it last night a couple of times!)

REMOLD CONTROL MISSING

Remold Control Missing


Today, I have that sense of calm that often comes either after a good night's sleep or a good cry. It's actually sort of a numbness. I'm not happy, nor am I sad. I just am.

Lately, my extreme mood swings, which I have learned are a result of a culmination of many different unrelated issues that seem to have hit me like a big cluster fuck (Well, some are 'related' to me, if you know what I mean!) has me wondering if I should seek professional therapy, and/or prescriptions for mood altering drugs. (...."Happy Pills, anyone?")

At this point, I don't want to do either, especially the drugs. I feel like they would only mask or dull the problems, instead of help me work my way through them. Knowing I am still stuck in and struggling through the stages of grief, I worry that the drugs would cause a delay in my eventual acceptance and 'getting on with life' part of this process.

Today's numbness is such a relief, compared to the pain of the trapped feeling in that hole of sadness I wanted be out of. Today's calm reminds me of that comfortable feeling that came to me immediately after the birth of my children. It's as if the intense labor pains are gone, and there's a new life before me, as I'm soaked from sweat and people are all around me, doing their own thing. But, it doesn't contain the joy that the smell, sound and site of a newborn can bring.

There's another distinct difference. As soon as I had both of my children, I knew I could go through labor pains again, even though just minutes before each birth, while trying to breathe through the pain, I know I was thinking; "Never again!" (Only a mother can relate to this feeling!). Yet, here I am, physically comfortable, and I know I never want to feel yesterday's low again. The thought of it terrifies me.

The nice thing about the calmness, is the clarity that seems to have come with it. I think that's what it is.

Yesterday, I was touchy as could be.
Negativity filled my mind.
I lost control.

I was selfish.
I was hateful.
I was ugly.

The names I was given as a child came to life, and I lived up to them (or down to them, in retrospect).

I was jealous.
I was hurt.
I was angry.

I provoked, which caused pain to others. When confronted, I stood my ground; it was full of rage and sorrow. During my rant I realized: Every facet of my pain was from something that happened years ago, of when I had no control.

Sinking in sadness, feeling like a victim, I screamed out about the unfairness of the day. I cried out everything that I was angry about, realizing as I was shouting that it was all from years ago. Stuff I held back, stuff that came up, that had been buried down deep.

I kept on it, crying and sobbing, pointing out what I remembered. Pointing out how I had spent my life trying to please everyone else. How I could never please anyone. How I begged people to forgive me, but they didn't. I deserved to be punished. I felt like I had spent my whole life waiting.

To be forgiven.
To be seen.
To be accepted.

My personality has always been: The issue builds up. I blow up. All better, it's over. I don't stew. But, the ones who do could give me just one look, which would send acid to my stomach, and shame to my gut. They would see I was excited, and had to sabotage it, because I didn't deserve to be happy...? So, then, I felt guilty...because:

I was selfish.
I was hateful.
I was ugly.

As a result, I spent my life trying to prove them wrong. It was exhausting trying to please everyone. Because I watched the Oprah show where she talked about women who had " The disease to please", and also a very kind, slightly older mother of one of my Cub Scouts, told me I had the right to say no and not feel guilty, I slowly started to pick and chose when to say "Yes". Although, it was still more often than I wanted to, for many years. With each no, came at least one twinge of guilt.

I have been learning how to appreciate-without guilt, the ones who have stepped up in my life, who were there when I was falling to pieces. They took over and have done things beautifully, lovingly and I can't thank them enough. As usual, in the back of my full heart, is that sharp pang of guilt, that I was selfish and should never have given up that over-load of responsibility. But, they have told me if they need my help, they won't hesitate to ask. They have never lied to me, so I trust they will.

I have been sorting out my feelings and thoughts, I've been learning to live without ones I lost. The ones who I can never see again. I'm at the stage where I actually miss them, now. I miss and recognize who they really were. I love them all the more for it. They were all so very honest, whether we agreed or not, on an issue. They were true to their word, and loyal to the end. I have gotten over the anger of how they left me alone to face the world. As if any of them wanted to die?

Yesterday, I was told I was angry. I denied it. I said I was hurt. I was gently reminded of words I had cried out earlier that same hour...It's true, I was angry.

Today, in my calmness, I have decided not to be angry anymore. I am accepting the fact that I have lost some people in my life, by my own choice. One day, I may see them again. But, I don't miss them, now. I don't miss them because I recognize who they really are. I don't love them for it. I need honesty and truth, in my life, whether we agree on an issue or not. I have gotten over the anger of how they left me a phony excuse. As if any of them wanted to lie?

As the daughter of a carpenter, I am picking up the pieces of my life, I am being careful as I mold it back into shape, using the truest lines for real support.

BLOGGING SUITS TO FIT

Blogging Suits to Fit


When I started writing in this forum, it was to publicly sort my thoughts. I felt desperately alone, despite having nonstop love and support from my family and from many friends. I was slipping from their safe grasps into a hole of darkness.

I was drowning.

In sorrow.
In anger.
In fear.
In confusion.

The past pushers of "guilt and should and must" were sitting on my head.

Dread took over hope. Conflicting feelings were eating away at me, as I tried to hang on to who I used to be. If I could only remember who that was?

I needed to be heard. I needed to scream out the life lessons I had learned. I wanted to warn everyone I knew. I wanted everyone to WAKE UP and listen to me. Not just hear, but listen.

I couldn't find the words. I worked hard on typing out the sentences that were forming in my head. The problem was, they were never there, when I finally had the time to type. I couldn't recall what the topic I had decided on was, never mind any thoughts that I had on it!

As I rushed through my morning showers, and the warm, soapy water flowed over me, the right words flowed through my mind.

As I drove around town, forcing myself to complete the errands and unwanted work that seemed to overwhelm me, my thoughts went wild. I composed my pieces and had titles, as I sat in traffic, dying to get home.

Today, once again, this has happened. After reading some blogs written by others, I'm trying a new approach in writing because the blogs were so very different from one another.

One fascinated me.
One frustrated me.
One moved me.
One made me laugh.

So, here I am typing away, inspired by the blogs of others.

If there is one important "life lesson", that I might have known, but had long forgotten; it's that everyone is only human.

Everyone feels. Everyone expresses themselves in the way they know, or the way they feel comfortable. Some people are quite reserved. Some are...not quite! Some publish their emotions openly, or recklessly on their posts, while others put careful thought into each word they type.

I can relate to and feel for both. I have typed my thoughts in different directions, depending upon my stage of life, and/or mood and frame of mind at the time. The careful ones seem to know better, for even though there is always a "delete" button, one can never be quite sure, who saw or copied the post before it "disappeared".

Their images remain protected.

But, I tend to trust the ones who blurt out words impetuously, even if they are deleted once they have calmed down. Their human side shines through, even if it's just for a moment. That moment is raw and genuine. The emotions are released, and their point is made. No matter who is offended by it.

They are immediately judged, but in reality, only by another imperfect human.

As I have typed this, I have been careful in several ways:

 I'm the Queen of Type O's, so no matter how many times I proofread and correct this before it's posted, there will still be mistakes. When I check this a month or so from now, I'll probably find more!

 I try very hard to keep ones I've posted about anonymous, as much as possible. For their sake. And mine!

 In typing this piece, I have deleted sections that were obvious peeves of mine, in case I ever calm down and/or change my mind of how I feel about them. I doubt this will happen, but they are only human. (See the life lesson above: the one I had forgotten!)

I used to type "blogs" off the top of my head, back when I belonged to a now changed, (which ruined it) then deserted social network. I seriously never worried what people thought when I wrote them, they were for me and my "imaginary" friends (my son's terms)  to comment on. I recently checked to see if they were still there, and they are! Some comments are missing, but I was pleasantly surprised to see I knew who I was, and how I felt back then.

This was a bitter-sweet discovery, as I was thrilled to see they still existed and my writing wasn't half bad. But, I realized it used to be so easy when I thought no one was looking (like dancing and singing?) and I had the confidence to vent my heart out.....

Meanwhile, then everything changed: the site, my life, me...

Real life friends and family were meant to see this venue. I wanted them to. I wanted them to know the real me. Yet, I am much more careful. I want the words to flow easily. I want to look like I know how to write, even though I wasn't a scholar in English class.

I want the reader to try to open up to my feelings, to see both sides, to not judge, or feel offended just because we don't share the same opinion.

And that's why I'm here. I'm calm today, the day after that "Hurricane Sandy" drizzled and fluttered through our town. I know that I'm only human, and so are the rest of you. My opinions and words are mine, you may share them, or not. But, it's okay, either way.


*
*
*
AFTER-THOUGHTS:

-Life lesson number two in my book is: You can always change your mind.

-Things to come:

I have complied a bunch of poems written over the year or so, I will create another blog area for them when I have time to remember how to do it.

As My Summer Leaves

As My Summer Leaves

....T'was the best...

If there was ever a summer of perfect weather days in Massachusetts, the summer of 2012 was it. My summer might not have been perfect, but I have only one complaint about the weather:  It's changing.

Lately, there's been a few nights we've had to close the windows. I've noticed I can see through our thick woods, the leaves are thinning. The air has a new crispness to it, it's drier. The sun's rising later & setting earlier.

My perfect summer is on it's way out.

As a child, and later, as a parent of children, I felt summer was over on Labor day. "Back to school" and all that. I no longer have children at home. Since our town's brand new school busses are very quiet, they don't wake me anymore. So, I keep thinking it's still summertime.

I'm clinging to it with a wistful sense of denial.

This has seemed like the longest summer I have been able to remember since I was a child!  It rained just enough to keep the foliage lushly green, while giving the hardy perennials enough drink to flourish and bloom brilliantly. I have sat in my yard and seen more butterflies and bumble bees this summer than I have seen in my entire life! Most every day was warm, there were a couple of really hot days, too.

I loved it.

It's true, there were a couple of sultry nights we had to leave the window fan on for the entire night. I used air conditioning only a couple of times. Both times it was when I was in my car, stuck in stand-still traffic on the highway. Once the traffic started to move, the AC went off and I opened the windows.

My husband and I took more bike (aka: motorcycle) rides this summer than we have since the first year he bought it.  There is nothing like a warm breeze with the sweet smell of the woods, the freshly cut hay fields, the delicious scent of a restaurant, and also being pleasantly surprised that we could get whiffs of the sun-warmed grapes growing in the vineyards!

We swam in our pool, not often enough, but when we did, we appreciated the tepid  water taking the edge of stress off of our old, achy muscles and soothing our stressed moods.

My physical comfort was quite satisfied this summer, all because of the weather.

It was my much needed yang to balance out my realized yin.

With appreciation to the sunshine and the temperatures, I know my emotional issues would have been so much more difficult to sort out and deal with, if it was unseasonably cool or there was constant precipitation.

....T'was the best...

But, there were bad moments.
Many bad moments.
Just not weather related.


Who would have thought once you reached fifty-five, that you would feel like you knew less than you ever knew?

Not me.

Who would have thought that the year beyond the anniversary of the terrible loss(es) would be much harder to live through?

Not me.

Who would have thought that everything you once needed/wanted/worked hard for would lose it's appeal to you, or not be as important?

Not me.

Who would have thought that people you thought you could depend on as friends/family/associates would drop the ball and go off in their own little world?

Not me.

Who would have thought that one day you'd be so low, that you suddenly understood why depressed people commit suicide?

Not me.

Who would have thought that when you worked up the courage to truthfully confront someone who has broken your heart, that they would make up an excuse with a lie, when all you wanted was to hear the words: "I'm sorry"?

Not me.

Each of these things happened to me, some of them more than once over the summer. Some of them have happened to some of my dearest friends and loved ones, as well. It seems so many people I know can relate to one or more of these issues.

As change is supposed to be good for you (at least that Brain Doctor on PBS says it's great for your brain), I have spent this summer trying to embrace it. Being a creature who loves comfort, (comfort foods especially!), making changes isn't as easy as I would like it to be.

As I try to sort out my life, my wants, and my relationships, there are many interruptions that get in the way.

The worst one is that old pain in the ass: "Guilt" which is embedded in me. It rises up  for feeling angry or bitter toward people who have genuinely hurt me, whether it was intentional or not. I know I have probably have been as inconsiderate or thoughtless to someone without being aware of it. I hope they would point it out to me, so I can say "I'm sorry, please forgive me".

Another is the fact that I really don't know what I want! I used to know. I used to know how to work for it and how to get it. I used to have the will, energy and the spirit to move mountains, with nothing but elbow grease and determination.

Now, if I get the bed made, and the dishwasher unloaded, I already feel like I've had a full day. I don't want to work now. I want to have fun. I have always felt that way (even back when I was working my ass off) but now I can't seem to understand why we can't just stop and enjoy ourselves? We've seen so many people die who never got to live!

Of course, reality is we must work to keep living, and we have bills to pay and a future to look out for.

And that is where our time is going. Into the future. I have no idea what I'll be doing, or what I even want. I do know I will be carefully choosing to be with the people who stepped up when I needed them most. Some did it naturally, as I expected and some came to it as a nice surprise to me.

As my perfect summer weather begins to leave, I will try to embrace the fall. For autumn can be beautiful!  We might have an Indian summer, which will keep me smiling as I examine who and what is really important in my life, and be grateful they are.

ssSSNAKES LIE IN MY GRASP

SNAKES LIE IN MY GRASP

To me, there is NOTHING more freeing than the TRUTH. I'm not talking about anything religious here, for I still have no clue whether there is a God or not.

I'm talking about:
The pretentious.
The liars.
The word manipulators.
The con artists.
The phonies.
The bull-shitters.

My instinct is usually right on target, but I often feel guilty, so try to give the benefit of doubt by listening to the same old slither and strike routine.
The excuse.
The sales-pitch.
The trap.

I trust too often. It's only the 11th of the month, yet, I have already had my fill of lies.

I heard once that the making of a successful CEO is that he puts all blame on someone else. To me, this is also the making of an insecure liar.

How do these people remember their stories, when I can't even recall the actual events?

I am a person who:
Takes the blame.
Admits my mistakes.
Apologizes. (over and over)
Hopes for forgiveness.
Begs for forgiveness.

Then, I'm over it. It's time to move forward. I'm not perfect. I know that.

Growing up in a neighborhood, where we all kept our dirty laundry to ourselves, it was easy to get sucked into gossip, but also get back-stabbed. The more unhappy the household, the greater the pretense.

No one was really safe, unless you never left the room. That was the guarantee that you weren't the victim of verbal assault, being judged by the others, who lied to your face.

I did the same.
We all did.
That was all we knew.

This still happens.

A change of scenery not only lifts the spirit, it clarifies reality. Developing "new eyes" or "an objective point of view" is a much needed step in truth realization. Only from a new angle can I really see and appreciate what and who has been lying front of me.

Now, I can recognize:
The liars.
The cheats.
The crushers of the spirit.
The thieves of the soul.

I forgive them, for that's all they know.

Just like all snakes, now that I see them, I don't fear them.

But, I still make an effort  to avoid them.

.....

Afterthought:

I say what I feel now.
I speak the truth, now.
If you encounter me and don't like what I have to say, then that's okay, it's only my honest opinion. But, do know, at least I'm not lying to your face, or even worse: behind your back.

POUNCE the DAY LIE IN THE WATER OF YOUTH

POUNCE the DAY LIE IN THE WATER OF YOUTH


Late yesterday afternoon, I persuaded my hot, tired, over-worked, taken advantage of husband to have a rendezvous with me. He was resistant, but I wouldn't take no for an answer.

I could relate to his reasoning, because I had experienced similar feelings earlier in the day. The day was hot. There were so many things that hadn't been completed yet. Just the thought of stripping out of work clothes, was exhausting, never mind then pulling on a bathing-suit, walking out to the pool, slipping into it, then having to climb out, dry off, and get dressed again, but also having to deal with the wet towel and suit...

I'm not trying to be funny. These were the thoughts I had, and his must have been worse because it was much later in the day, he had just come into the house and was still wearing work-boots. He had somehow burned his arm without knowing it. He possibly leaned on a fresh weld or it was a chemical burn from the chemicals on swimming-pool truck he was working on. The burned skin looked like it was shrinking, he wondered if it was the cement drying it out.

I was calmly persistent. If I hadn't forced myself to swim already, I might not have been. Earlier, I told myself not to be such a wimp, to get outside in the wonderful hot weather that I yearned for the rest of the year. I gathered up my much needed supplies:  my book, my glasses, a bottle of water and my phone. When I got out there, I realized I had forgotten my usual hat and sunglasses, but my chair was under an overhang, so I got over it.

Slowly, I pulled the solar cover back a few feet, only enough to allow me  to "swim" in the low end, since I was alone. That's also where the jets from the solar panels are, and I planned on a warm massage. I jumped in.

The relief that shot through my body was exhilarating! I suddenly remembered why we opened the pool up this year and why I tend to it daily. I paddled a bit, then drifted in front of the jets. I felt years younger. I floated around peacefully, until I started to shiver.

I got out, sat on my chair and read my book. As the warm sun slowly took the wet chill from my toes, I lost track of time, just like I used to when I was young. A noise from the garage brought me back to reality, where I saw it was almost time for an appointment at the local farm. I left all my things beside the pool, went in the house to get dressed and drove off. My body had no stress left in it, I felt good in the dry clothing, like a baby in pjs after a bath.

When I got home, I cooked up a supper of fresh picked veggies. My husband hungrily ate it, and when he was done, I presented my invitation, carefully, and sweetly.

His tired expression appeared as if I had just added to his "to do" pile. I told him to finish what he needed to do, as I cleaned up the dishes. I told him to look at a post I made on a social network we belong to, and he did.

The post pointed out how I was going to the pool I went to 37 years ago that day, and hoped the hot guy I met there, back then, would be showing up. As he replied to the posts, I cleaned up.

We sat for a short time, and I checked out his burn. The looks of it scared me, so I became a bit more forward in my convincing, I wanted that arm in water, if not to cool the burn, to at least get the cement off of it. I told him he wouldn't be sorry once he took a dip.

He wasn't. He (as he put it) "took the plunge" and I could see the stress melt off his face. He looked relaxed, refreshed and carefree. The warm water soothed his burn, and his aching muscles.

When we were out and dressed, we took off on his motorcycle, to get some ice cream.

Me & the 18 year old boy I met 37 years ago.

It's My Rebirthday & I'll Fly if I Come Too!

 This morning, I decided:


Today is my Rebirthday.

My new life begins today.
  
I will no longer be subject to other people's presumptions of my responsibilities.

I will no longer be the one in charge of care taking.



This morning was pretty much the same as every other morning

Because of my circumstances,

Everyone just expected me to be in charge

To be the default caregiver 



I realized no one had heard my wants

No one listened to my words



As I became resentful

As I became enraged...




I saw that oxygen mask dangling.

As I was blacking out

Because I was placing all the masks in place

On the faces of others



Out of my stoned-like fading consciousness

I recalled the flight attendant's demonstration



The gestures of pulling to straighten the oxygen line

To free the folds and blockages

The recited orders confused me


"Put the oxygen mask on yourself first,

Before helping others"

 ...What?


"Take care of  yourself first"   


 ...What?


The opposite of all I've been raised to do.






Yet, today,

As I started to smother & gasp

In the assumed duty of responsibility

I never chose, but was given

I clumsily tugged that oxygen line

Placed the mask securely on my face




I took a deep breath

In less than a moment

I  felt my new life flow

That old spark of hope

Fought its way back to my soul



I got to taste the warm

Wonderful flavor of freedom

And I won't give it up

At any price.

DEATH-AFTER-LIFE-GOES ON

When my good friend's husband phoned to tell me she had died, he said, "Doreen's with God, now."

I had been expecting that call, so it didn't surprise me; but his choice of words caught me off guard!  For the briefest instant, I thought he was joking.

I'm not really sure if I believe in life after death.

I'm pretty sure I don't believe in God.

I know I am not a fan of organized religion.

I don't know why I thought he felt the same way?

To this day, I can step into a Catholic church and appear as if I am a devout follower. After over 30 years of not attending Mass every Sunday, and/or on "Holy Days", I still know when to stand, kneel, sit, genuflect, and bow my head.

'Upon the Priest's cue from the alter, I know what to respond without falter.'

My knowledge of these rituals, is from rote memory.

When attending weddings and funerals, with my young children, they would look up at me with puzzled faces, because they had no idea what was going on, nor did they understand how I did!

That was then. That was when I participated out of guilty obligation, with a fear of being judged. Now, I refuse to perform those parts when I attend a wedding or a funeral. I will stand, out of respect, but when the congregation lines up for communion, I sit comfortably in the pew, and watch.

I'm not sure I ever really believed in God. I know I prayed to God as a child. But, my doubt was always there, and because it was, I constantly felt guilty. Guilt was put on me from the church,  from my parents and grandparents, who also learned it from the church, and from the nuns who taught my first communion classes.

I don't know exactly what happened to make me decide to stop attending Mass.

I do know I am pro-choice, pro-birth control, I want equal rights for everyone, including legalizing gay marriage.  Having said that, despite being married, I am not a big proponent of marriage at all! I especially can't stand that archaic idea of remaining a virgin until that knot is tied. I will never nag my children to get married, nor make it my business on whether they should have children or not.

My husband and I didn't raise our children in any religion. We spent our Sunday mornings sitting in our spa, drinking coffee, and going over our lives. It was our own spiritual time, in the sense that we physically felt better and we mentally connected to each other and the world around us.

Weddings, funerals, and special ceremonies of local organizations were the reasons we took our kids into church. We each have our own personal 'best wedding ever' memory of particular weddings we attended. Although they might not be of the same wedding, not one of our favorite weddings (or funerals), was held in a church.

Lately, I've been ranting that my recent life should be called "Four Funerals and a Wedding". The one wedding we attended was the highlight of our year, we escaped this town, this state, and had a wonderful weekend, and no, it wasn't in a church.

There were many traditional parts, such as the beautiful bride in white, and bridesmaids. The groomsmen, created a saber arch because the groom was in the air-force. The music was not traditional, which made it special, our nephew played the guitar and sang, and they also had some recordings, of their favorite songs. The ceremony was short and magically sweet on top of a mountain in Maine.

As far as the four funerals went, three of them had wakes, or 'visiting hours', as well. I hate funerals. I hate wakes even more. I am opposed to open caskets, even if the corpse does look better dead than they might have when they were alive!  I can't understand why this is done.

I was once told it was for closure, that one couldn't accept the person was dead, until they saw the body. I can understand that coming from a child, who I would never force to look at an open casket, but not from a grown adult.  Why can't you believe what you are told, especially if you believe in God, sight unseen?

With both wakes and funerals, my opinion is if you haven't made the effort to be in touch with the deceased while they were alive, why bother when they are dead?

I get the excuse, "It's to support the family". Seriously, as a person who has had a family member die, I know the family doesn't look forward to going through these rituals.

Instead, why not send a nice note, or make a large contribution in their name to a charity of your choice? Or better yet, make a point to visit the family after the loved one is buried?

In my experience, once the circus is over, and the clowns disappear, the hardest time for the family begins. The shock and numbness starts to wear off, causing the pain and grief of their loss to deepen. It also seems to be the time, the 'supportive" friends and family, who had made their expected 'public' appearance, disappear, and are no where to be seen, because "life goes on"...until the next funeral?

Each one of the four funerals we attended was a bit different. Only one was in a church. I won't go into the details of that one in this post, because I am still too raw and emotionally enraged by the creepy, cult-like experience.  The one thing that  funeral confirmed was my belief that many the most "pious" acting Christians are the biggest hypocrites you'll ever meet.

Last Friday, I found out a dear old neighbor died. I was given the dates and times of the visiting hours and the funeral. Out of habit, I immediately wrote them on my calendar.

This morning, as I looked at the calendar, the thought of another wake brought me down. At our ten o'clock coffee break, I mentioned how I really didn't want to go to either service. My son looked at me and softly said, "Mom, I think you've been to enough of those lately, don't you?'

His words made me realize I have a choice. I don't have to go. So, I'm not.

I will send a loving card, make a contribution to her church in her memory (as suggested in the obituary), and plan on visiting her widower in the near future, when all has quieted down...and life goes on.

TOO GOOD TO STAY CLEAR

People who know me, know I would love to live in a tropical place where snow doesn't exist. Some try to get me to recognize the beauty of snow flakes softly floating to the ground. They point out how lovely and "pristine" the dead winter landscape becomes after a fresh snowfall.

They can't seem to grasp the idea of my dread of snow. They think as a native New Englander, I should be used to it by now. I should appreciate the change of weather with each season! I should accept how lucky I am to live where tornadoes and earthquakes are rare, and the summers are wonderfully comfortable.

Similar romantic thoughts of snow, were mine as a child. At night, I often "prayed"  for snowstorms, so school would be canceled the next day. My favorite seasons used to be in this order :

1. Fall
2. Winter
3. Summer
4. Spring

Now, the list is in this order:

1. Summer
2. Summer
3. Spring
4. Fall

Because I live in New England, I do appreciate that unless we are hit with a huge blizzard of a Nor' Easter variety, life doesn't come to a standstill, as it seems to when some parts of the country get as little as an inch!  If the falling snow melts as it hits the roads, I am grateful and relieved.

Many of the people, who try to convince me I'm wrong about snow, do not have to deal with it. They might have to drive in it, which is the least of my snow issues as New England's main roads are maintained very well. But, I doubt they have to shovel the snow, some don't even have to brush and scrape off their cars! I have to do both.

I have been told, by my husband and others, to let him do all the shoveling. As it is, he has to plow our home, his business, my mother's home, and any relative's home we are watching while they are away.

I am not a weak, feeble old woman, and nor do I want to be. I can shovel more shit than many men half my age. I do my part and won't stop by using the excuse of pretending I'm a 'helpless female'. That would make me a lying hypocrite.

Shoveling becomes the most exercise I might get, if there is snow. One of my main reasons for hating snow is the roads might be clear enough for driving, but my daily walks suffer, as the snow banks, drifts and ice patches make it dangerous.

There is also the "cold" factor. I have reached an age where the cold can seep into my bones and make them ache for summer. Having said that, this winter has been unseasonably warm, with very few days of frigid temps. People haven't heard me complain at all yet, this winter...

Until today, there has been no snow, since that early, freak snowstorm around Halloween. Because we've had quite a few sunny days and sidewalks have been clear and dry, I've been able to take walks, and get lots of exercise. This has made the cold bearable, and also kept me from my worst fear of winter; SAD.

Early this morning, I got up to put on the coffee, while it was still dark, so I didn't notice the snow falling. By the time I brought our coffee back to bed, I saw it. Since "this year is different", I had my husband turn off the TV, where the weather person was shrilly listing the accumulations in inches (but was also forecasting that it will warm up!).

I pulled up the shade, and we watched the snow fall.  We quietly sipped coffee in our cushy bed. While I was watching, I did acknowledge the natural beauty of the flurries. I appreciated our warm house, and the positive forecast of warmer temps.

OUT OF THE MONTH OF BABE

It's January, the first month of the new year! The month when resolutions are made, goals are set, and diets begin! The fitness centers are bursting at the seams with people bursting their seams!

People are either a bit skeptical of the "Start Fresh" (once again, and/ or try again?!) attitude, or are quite on board with it, at least for the first 'week'...until they and their will power become 'weak'?

Some of my past resolutions have included: saving money, eating healthier, exercising more, losing weight, making a point not to make mean or negative comments, making a point not to think negative thoughts, keep positive, and/or follow through with anything I said or promised or started.

Most of those lasted about two weeks, or less...

I'm sure many years ago, there were others such as to study harder. But, I can't remember making that particular resolution or anything I studied harder at!  For example, as my family is well aware, the only thing I recall about Science class is my lab partner and I were so bored that we quietly had our own private breath holding contest as we watched the clock. Oh, and also the smell of formaldehyde.

The one resolution I succeeded on was made in the early 80's. My husband and I were young, broke, and living paycheck to paycheck. His check paid our bills, while mine covered our groceries. We had one child, and were renovating an old, run down house, so had no cash for Christmas gifts. I was working in a bank and noticed people were receiving checks from their "Christmas Club Accounts".

After reading the restrictive rules of a Christmas Club, I opted to open just a regular passbook savings account, starting with my first January paycheck. I realized if I forced myself to save ten dollars off the top of my paycheck each week, by time the next Christmas rolled around we'd be well off. I was serious, as $520.00 plus five and a half percent compounded interest was a lot of money to us. It still is.

At that time, living on ten dollars less a week was a difficult struggle for us. Depositing that ten as soon as I received my check was the only way I kept that resolution.

Another stressful part of this resolution was my husband didn't know I was doing it! That passbook was going to be his surprise Christmas present from me. I still recall one low and horribly poor-feeling moment, when we had to make some sort of sacrifice that summer, because we were so broke, where I  ALMOST told him about the account. I can't recall what expense we had given up, but it was well worth it when he opened his stocking and saw the passbook balance on Christmas morning.

Since then, my resolutions, including one that said, "My resolution is to not have a resolution", have failed. I assume it was because they weren't very realistic, or I wasn't disciplined enough, or as desperate as I had been when I opened that passbook account.

This year will be different.

Of course, I've said that before! But, this year has already been different. For one thing, I don't have a set-in-stone resolution. It's more of a vague idea to reach a  calm and content year, of less sadness, less guilt, and less regrets. This year is to be filled with much more laughter, and making fun happen.

After a year of losing too many loved ones, which caused physical setbacks and emotional lows, I'm ready to get on with life. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of looking in the mirror to see puffy eyes, which tend to make me cry more!  I'm tired of making plans that are suddenly changed by circumstances beyond my control, and even worse, by circumstances I CAN control.

At least I can work on controlling, the way I react toward things. Impulsive  in nature, I will work on not immediately reacting with my primal instinct. I will still trust my instinct, but will also pause before blurting out my 2 cents, which is often ridiculous, because I've jumped to a totally mistaken conclusion!

If an unexpected change in plans occurs, I will work* (*hoping eventually not have to 'work' so hard at it) on going with the flow, because I've discovered that some changes can be very good.

This piece is one example. As I was driving home from the produce store this morning, I had been thinking about how I miss having little ones around. I was remembering the unconditional love of babies, the innocence and joy of little children, and how much pleasure I get from seeing them.

I was thinking about how some people despise babies, some can take them, or leave them. Then, there are people like me, who wave, smile & say "Hi" to the babies in the grocery store, and play peek-a-boo with them on the subway. To me, there is almost nothing that raises my endorphins more than a baby breaking into a drooling, toothless smile, especially if they also happen to give one of those little chuckles of delight! 

So, I got on this computer and started this piece...It was supposed to be about babies, new beginnings, and somehow tying it in with the New Year and the good experiences of a fresh start, and a new life...thinking my clever title would be... "From the Month of Babes"....

As often happens in my daily life, the plan changed. The words ended up flowing in a different direction. I've gone with it, and it's okay. I'm calm and content about it.

This year is different.

Happy New Year.