Shoveling Snow with a Seven-Year-Old

It's New Year's Day and I am contemplating taking down all the Christmas decorations.  It took me a while to get them all up this year and I lament that I am not quite ready to put away all the pretty lights.  I turn my attention instead to cleaning and I am deep in thought as I flit around my house readying for the company I will have this afternoon.  My mind wanders through all of the events of the past week...some highs and some lows...but my thoughts keep going back to the snow that we had on Thursday.  This, I think, was the highlight of my work week.

I am not a fan of snow.  I don't terribly mind it but I hate the inconvenience of it. The messy roads. The way it affects my very fashionable boots.  The dirt that is tracked into the house and all over my hardwood floors.  And the shoveling of the driveway.  I don't have a particularly large driveway but it's big enough to fit about five cars and for a party of one, that's a pretty big task at the end of a busy day.  But snow it did on Thursday...not very much...but enough to require the shoveling of the driveway.

This past work week was a little unusual.  I think holiday weeks in general are more slow paced. Many people take the week off and the mood for those that are working is festive.  Holiday parties and open houses are quite the norm.  My week was unusual because I got to spend it with a seven- year-old.

One of the perks of my job is that it offers a very flexible environment.  So, when my friend needed someone to watch her daughter over school break, it was generally understood that she is welcome at my office.  Anyone that knows this seven-year-old knows she is not just any seven-year-old. She is exceptional on many fronts.  Not only does she fully understand the chronic illness her mother lives with, but she has taken on this cause as her own, volunteering many hours in many ways. And thus, my office, she says, is her office and she loves coming to work.  She has a desk that she has claimed as her own and she is as comfortable inside the setting of these four walls as I am.  She should be...she's been coming here for the past five years.  I've seen her blossom from an adorable two-year- old to a beautiful seven-year-old wise beyond her years but very much possessing the playfulness that she should at her young age.  It's an interesting contrast to see because to have a conversation with this young lady is an experience in and of itself.  She talks with the wisdom of someone four times her age and in the next breath she giggles with all the innocence she possesses in her soul.

This seven-year-old recently named me her Godmother.  Yes, I know that's not how it normally happens, but she asked me, very matter of fact, "can you be my Godmother because my Godmother died."  I know the duties of a Godmother because I once named one for my child.  This is not an invitation I take lightly.  Agree to it I do because you don't say no to something that God is directing.

Knowing that I am her "godmother" this seven-year-old seems to have a whole new appreciation and dare I say, love for me.  It has filled my heart in countless ways.  As I have seen my own son grow into a young man that I am very proud of, I have seen him bond with this child as well. He accepts her as part of our family and this means, according to my new Goddaughter, that he is her "God brother." One of the things I am most proud of is my son's ability to accept people no matter their life circumstances.  He judges no one and holds no prejudice.  He, for all intents and purposes and according to today's society, has lived a privileged life.  That may be very true, but he also understands that everyone has a journey, we are all children of God, and we all have a responsibility to do the best we can for each other.  These are traits he shares with his new God sister and so I believe that both her and her mom were placed in our lives in a divine manner.
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Thus, my Goddaughter and I spent the week at my office.  She working at her desk and playing school in our conference room; me accomplishing what I can in between the questions that come from her.  We enjoyed Panera Bread for lunch every day and we got to have very interesting conversations during this time about many things.  School, Christmas, her siblings and step siblings, Santa and Jesus.  Knowing the roads were a little messy on Thursday, I thought we should leave the office and meet her mom at my house.  It would be easier for her mom and I would get home to shovel the driveway earlier.  My Goddaughter totally agreed and said to me "that's a really good idea.  Let's go slow and be safe."  Good advice, I thought!

We approach my house and I pull into my garage.  As we get out of the car I ask her if she wants to help me shovel.  I was joking...sort of...because I didn't really think a seven-year-old could master a shovel.  But, she was very enthusiastic about it...far more enthusiastic than me...and far be it for me to dampen her spirit.

We set out about the work at hand...she at the top of the driveway and me at the bottom.  While I labored over it trying to get it done as quickly as possible, she was laughing, asking me to watch her, approaching the task very meticulously.  If she missed a spot, she went back and got it.  If the pile she was making somehow fell, she went back and fixed it.  She giggled when she slipped and fell and got right back up again to finish her chore.  When we met in the middle she very readily told me she would finish.  Her mom arrived and she wanted her mother to wait until she was done "working" before they left.  She exclaimed multiple time that she was having so much fun.  And her mom and I watched in amusement as she conquered the use of the shovel and the clearing of the driveway.

Later that night as I went outside to turn the holiday lights off, I looked at my driveway, nice and clean, and in wonder that something that delighted a seven-year-old caused much anxiety in me.  There was a time when I loved snow.  When I was a seven year old, perhaps.  I remember sledding, ice skating, building snowmen...and enjoying all these activities with my own child. Somewhere along the way I lost the beauty and the wonder of this magical gift from Mother Nature.  Adulting is like that at times.  We forget to enjoy all the wonders of life and become so focused on what we must accomplish that we don't always see the beauty of that which is in front of us.

I remember how much this young lady laughed as she set about the "work" of clearing the driveway and I thought to myself...why could I not view it this way? The snow is beautiful, actually.  The purity of it; the way it sparkles against the streetlights and the colors of the holiday lights that adorn my house; the familiar crunch under my feet; and the way my dog delights in it as she runs through the yard sticking her nose in it time and time again and jumping up in what seems to be pure delight.

 I stared at the snow a little longer, took in the crispness of the air, and decided to leave the holiday lights on for all those that happen to be driving by to enjoy.  Yes, life is full of wonder and reminders of that come every day.  I want to embrace the wonder.  I hope that when I fall into a funk, I remember the day I shoveled snow with a seven-year-old.

Gratitude...and reflections of 2016

Hello everyone.  It's been a while since I've written and I'm feeling a little guilty about that.  Truth be told, I've had a very hard time finding inspiration.  That sounds strange since there have been many things this year that I felt like screaming out loud about.  But every time I sat down to write I simply could not find the words.  I'm not even certain they will come now, but we are nearing the end of 2016 and so the adage goes, out with the old, in with the new.  It seems a perfect time to reflect on the past year and shed the things that weigh us down.  This is a process many of us go through and it helps us to approach the new year with optimism, hope, and resolve.  It's been a tough one on many fronts but despite the challenges it brought many lessons and many blessings.

I first want to talk about the election.  This election was unlike any other that I have seen in my lifetime.  It divided the country unlike anything I have witnessed in my five decades on earth.  Not only did it bring racism and prejudice in front of all of us, but it also had a dramatic effect on families and longtime friendships.  I am pretty open about my political beliefs but never more than this year was I outright criticized for believing what I believe and voting for whom I voted for.  This, despite my public declaration time and time again, that I support everyone's right to choose their candidate. Regardless of the criticism sent my way, I stand by my ideals and appreciate the opportunity this election provided for dialogue.  Seek first to understand and then to be understood is a very good lesson in the presidential election of 2016.  No matter what side of the political coin any of us are on, I believe that understanding points of view holds the key to uniting us as we go forward.  The most positive thing to come of this election, for me, is that I connected with an amazing group of people that are concerned about the issues I am and together we are proactively organizing activities that can have a positive impact.  It feels good to do something.  And never have I been more motivated to do something than now.  For that, I am thankful.  

2016 brought losses of iconic figures.  A long list of legends that touched our lives in one way or another.  These losses saddened many of us.  What strikes me, though, is how fortunate we are to feel this loss.  Without it, we would have never known the films, the music, the writing, the history, the legends.  To feel the loss means that somehow our lives were touched forever and what a blessing that is.

2016 also brought me an inherent drive to focus on my health - physical, spiritual and emotional.  For many, many years I focused on all things but me and in this process, I suffered.  I was doing a great job of taking care of everyone else but not so much when it came to me.  I became isolated.  My pattern was work, home, and back to work again.  I lost joy.  I lost passion.  I lost happiness.  My dad's passing shook me to the core but it also propelled me in a way that I hadn't been moved in a very long time.

My dad wanted certain things for me and in his passing, I wanted to honor his wishes.  So, I set out on a journey to restore my soul.  I wanted to fix all the things that were broken in me.  This process took some serious self-reflection.  The bad personal choices, the toxic people I let into my life, the wall that I built to keep all things positive out, and the smile that I placed on my face to fool the world...all had to go.  It's scary to embark on a journey like this but the thing about it is that once you take the first step, and then the second, and then the third...it becomes easier and easier. Every step I took motivated me to take the next.  I found empowerment in saying no and setting boundaries.  Strength in ridding toxicity from my life.  Self-awareness from remembering who I was. And purpose by focusing on the things that nurture my spirit.

I make no apologies for who I am.  My mistake for a very long time was in believing that I somehow was not good enough.  I am damn good enough.  That does not mean I am perfect.  I am far from it. I am human and I make mistakes...lots of them.  I say snarky things at times.  I am a bit stubborn.  I get moody.  I obsess about things.  I am misunderstood and I misunderstand.  But my heart is sincere and I've learned to accept myself, flaws and all.  This acceptance has brought forgiveness and it has removed guilt.  And thus, I have peace in my soul.  And that is perhaps the biggest blessing of 2016.

2016 also brought changes in personal as well as professional relationships.  This process left me baffled at times.  We all have people in our lives that we know shouldn't be there but for whatever reason, we let them linger.  We think it will get better.  We think we can love them into wholeness. We think that if we remain loyal friends, the loyalty will be returned.  I had to learn many lessons about the circle I was surrounding myself with.  As I let people go (and as people let me go), what blossomed was truth.  There are some people in your life that say they are your champion, but when the going gets too tough, they bail.  There are others that are in your life simply for what you can do for them and as soon as you fulfill that purpose, they also bail.  This reality hurts.  But the pain is more than overcome when the truth surfaces.  You see who your true champions are.  Those that encourage you on your journey and want you to grow.  Those that see beauty in your flaws.  Those that will stand in the center of the fire with you and not shrink back.  These people surfaced for me this year.  Some I knew were there all along but I took for granted.  Others came from out of nowhere and fed my soul.  And I am thankful for each and every one of you.  My journey to be whole continues...but I am so blessed to have people in my life that are moving me forward.

As 2016 comes to a close, I find myself more optimistic than I have been in a long time.  I remain focused on my goals and have learned to not let self-doubt deter me.  I've learned to turn negativity off and to shut it down before it takes hold.  I take lessons as blessings.  I am thankful for those in my life who motivate me and those who call me on my crap.  Thankful for those that challenge me even if the challenge comes from out of nowhere.  Everything does not have to be all wine and roses in order to be great,  I am looking forward to 2017 and the things it will bring.  As I say goodbye to 2016, I say it with hope, optimism, and humility.  I don't have a lot of New Year's resolutions to share other than this....I'm going to continue trying.

Happy New Year everyone!

Dear Dad

Hard to believe, but it's been one year since you left us.  We've somehow managed to survive the year of the "firsts."  The first birthdays -- yours and ours; the first Father's Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, snowfall, summer and this day.  A year ago I could not fathom how things would change or how we would survive, yet somehow we did.  We've had lots of tears along the way but somewhere through the darkness we found laughter.  Days are not easy but in my heart I know you are with us, watching over and guiding us.

Life is different without you here.  There is a definite emptiness that will never go away, though every day I learn to cope in new ways.  Rather than reflect on the sadness of this day, I wanted to take a few minutes out and let you know what has transpired over the past year...the things that I think would make you most proud.  Things we used to talk about often.  I share them today because I want you to know that I listened...even when you think I didn't.

First, I have made a conscious effort to rid toxicity in my life.  Those people that bring a dark cloud with them...I've eliminated them from my life or I've found a new way to cope with them that doesn't bring me down.  I choose to stay in a positive place and I don't let people steal my joy...not anymore.

I work less hours.  I make a decision every day to stop work at a reasonable hour and just go and enjoy.  Enjoy time with Joey, my animals, the quietness of my house, the company of friends, the beauty of the outdoors.  You always worried about the long hours I was putting in...and finally I have slowed down.  And guess what...the work still gets done!

I've taken control of my health.  This is something you always worried about and wanted me to do and finally I am doing it.

I have learned how to say no and to set boundaries.  You always told me not to let people take advantage of me...and while I never considered myself a pushover, I know I did too much for people and I have finally found the empowerment to say no.

I spend my time on things that truly matter to me.  Not just my work - but other things that have given me a new purpose, such as the Parkinson's organization.  I honor you through doing what I can for this organization and it fills me with joy.

Perhaps the biggest things is this....We spend more time together as family....all of us.   We always did spend time together but the things we've gone through the past year have made us stronger and closer...and I know it makes you happy to see that the bond is stronger than ever.

As I look back through my life, my childhood, teenage years, and adult years, I know that I am blessed because you are my father.  You taught me so much, believed in me, encouraged me and supported me through everything...even when you knew I was making mistakes.  I love you and miss you every single day but I am so very thankful that God gave me you as my dad.

Love you Dad.  Please keep watching over us.

Presents for my Father

Father's Day is coming.  Reminders are all around us.  We see it on TV and hear it on the radio.  It's flooding social media.  There are many wives, sons and daughters preparing for this day, all wondering what they can do to honor the number one man in their lives.  And there are many, like me, who will be facing this day in a brand-new way.

It's been nine months since my dad passed. It doesn't seem like that much time could have gone by and yet it is almost one full year.  Almost one full year of grieving, of celebrating holidays and birthdays without his presence, and one full year of learning to live in a new reality.  I am now keenly aware of how a memory shared can bring both joy and sadness with the very same teardrop.

The grieving process is different for all of us.  Some are silent in our grief.  Others speak it out loud.  Some self-destruct.  Others embrace faith.  Some are angry and others learn to live with the celebration of what was.  Some lean on friends and family.  Others retreat into themselves.  I have done all of these things and what I have learned about the grieving process is that it takes as long as it takes.  There is no right or wrong way to process your loss.

I've been told that I'm doing very well.  The reality is that my grieving process started three years ago and in this process, I did self-destruct.  Not intentionally and not outwardly; only those that were closest to me noticed.  It wasn’t the kind of destruction that left me unable to function.  The destruction affected my health and while I've taken steps to get my health back, this too is a process that will take as long as it takes.  I've learned to be gentler on myself, though, and even this is a major victory for me. 

As Father's Day draws near, the rawness of my dad's passing has hit me once again. He won't be here this year for me to purchase a card or a present and I wonder how the day will impact me.  It wasn't that we made a huge fuss about Father's Day.  My dad was never a very ceremonious person.  He didn't want, or need, a lot of presents or fuss.  In fact, the presents I bought for him were often on the practical side.  His favorite thing to get was something quite simple - a gift card to Home Depot.  But I can't buy him a gift card to Home Depot this year or give him a mushy card because despite the practicality of the gifts I gave him, I chose his cards with care because I wanted them to convey just how incredible of a dad he was to me.  I can do none of those things this year and the reality of those words hits me like bitter, cold winter air.

I've been pondering for weeks how to embrace this day just as I’ve been pondering all of the Father's Days before now, wondering how my dad felt when he received his card and his ever so practical gift.  He always said there was nothing he wanted or needed.  Save my money, he would say.    While some dads embrace things like Yankee tickets, my dad was most content fixing things and caring for his animals - those that were part of the family and the many others that just happened to wander by.  He lived very quietly and privately and I now recognize the influence this has had over me.  I too live very quietly and privately and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  In recognizing this simple truth, I also recognize that the true presents I gave my father were not the material ones.  The "gifts" I presented my father through the years were those that showed him he did a pretty good job of parenting me.

All we truly want as parents is for our children to learn to fly.  We want them to chase and accomplish their dreams.  I know these are the things my father wanted for me; to pursue the things I was passionate about.  He wanted me to live my life in a positive way and to continually learn and to grow.  He wanted me to have joy in my life.  And as I wait for Father's Day and whatever emotions this day will bring, I take comfort in knowing that I did, and continue to, give my father the "presents" he truly wanted.

My dad was proud of me. He told me that often.  It gave me great pride to share with him the work that I am very passionate about.  Some of my greatest moments of joy were when I introduced him at functions and simply said "this is my dad."  Thus, as I approach Father's Day this year, I know that while there is nothing material I can buy nor will I be able to see my father, I know he will be with me.  His influence is with me every single day and I think that that in and of itself is the greatest gift I can give him.  I turned out to be a fairly decent human being who chased and accomplished much.  One who still pursues her dreams.  One who continues to learn and to grow.  One who has joy in her life.  I am a mom to a wonderful young man that I am so very proud of and my parenting skills, while not perfect, are pretty good.  I've made many mistakes in my life but I've learned from every single one of them.  I've done more good than harm.  I live simply and quietly and do my best every single day to make a difference.  In my quest to honor my dad, I renew this commitment every day.

To my dad, I want to say thank you.  Thank you for believing in me and for always encouraging me.  Thank you for picking me up every time I fell down.  Thank you for giving me the reality checks when I needed them.  Thank you for pushing me when I needed that, too, and for being gentle when you knew that’s what I needed most.  Thank you for teaching me right from wrong and for forgiving me when I did wrong.  Thank you for teaching me how to parent.  More than anything, thank you for loving me.

To everyone who faces Father’s or Mother’s Day without your parents in your lives, know that you are not alone.  Whatever emotion this day brings for you, embrace it fully.  There is no right and no wrong way.  There is no time frame under which you must operate.  Grief takes as long as it takes.  It takes on different forms and its impact is different every single day.  It won't ever go away but it will change over time.  Embrace your journey.  It is yours to process in whatever way you must.

Sending love to you all.  Happy Father's Day Dad.  I love you and miss you so....

Constructs

I have a friend who talks about constructs.  Often.  I must admit I didn't, and still don't, fully understand what he means by this.  I get the general idea...a label that we put on our existence, a box that we build ourselves into, a way we approach our lives that I think, at least in terms of me, he feels is limiting.  In a recent telephone conversation, he said half jokingly that, when "I put my finger on my own pulse" (translation - when I stop living inside the constructs I've built for myself), he and I will be more "on the same page."  He shared further wisdom that we all have to be one way in our daytime gigs, but we have to let it down a bit after hours.  I responded that I am pretty much the same person consistently.  This, he says, has not worked for me.  Really?

I found this whole exchange to be interesting.  Ponder it I did.  I had to understand whether I do build myself into constructs that keep me stuck at any given place.  I have never viewed myself as a particularly rigid person.  But surely my friend has a point...he's known me for a very long time.  Thus I wonder...am I rigid?  Do I have a wall surrounding my existence?  Do I use "constructs" as a way to remain in a guarded state?

My friend has a construct.  He even made  a video about it.  He shared openly that in dealing with people, he basically "interviews" them to see if they will fit inside his construct. He is very strict about it and in watching this video again, I've determined that he has been "interviewing" me for months.  Testing me (for reasons I do not understand), and for all intents and purposes, I have failed every single one.  This does not bother me.  What I find curious is that he would test me when he knows I will fail.  He knows this because he knows me.  Hence to "interview" me to see if I will fit inside the walls that he has built...is really kind of pointless.  I don't say that with any kind of attitude.  Frankly, he doesn't fit inside my construct either...but isn't that what makes the world go round?

I live my life a certain way.  I don't allow negativity to affect me.  I surround myself with people and things that nurture my spirit.  I spend time with family and friends.  I work at a job I enjoy.  I volunteer for causes I believe in.  I go to concerts, plays and the bookstore.  I jump in my car and go for long drives.  I wander around small towns because they intrigue me.  I am independent.  Fiercely independent. I enjoy my own company and I'm never at a loss to find something to do.  But, I wasn't always this way.  It took me many years to build to this level of independence.  As you all know from previous posts, I wasn't always comfortable in my own skin.  Because of my insecurity, I didn't always nurture my spirit.  In this process, I sacrificed my sense of self.  It is not a sacrifice I wish to make any longer and in redefining my construct, I realize that I have an IDGAF attitude.  My friend has one, too.  I've been subjected to it on more than one occasion, as recently as this past weekend. 

Here's the thing.  For months we've been dancing around the subject of whether we can do the dating thing.  I want to approach it one way and my friend wants to approach it another.  I've gone down the road that my friend wants me to take - repeatedly - and it has not worked for me.  Sure, I've had some great (and not so great) relationships, but damn I'm too old to throw caution to the wind!  My friend knows where I'm at.  I've told him over and over again...and he has told me over and over again that he gets it and even respects it.  But then here we are...both stuck in our construct.

I really like my friend.  He has many qualities I admire.  He is smart.  He can carry a great conversation.  He challenges me to think.  He writes short stories and poetry.  He plays guitar.  He rides a motorcycle.  He makes me laugh.  He likes the outdoors and finds tranquility in nature.  He's really easy on the eyes.  He's had quite a journey in his life and because of his experiences, he understands people on a very deep level.  I really dig these things about him.  But he is stubborn.  So very stubborn.  He wants what he wants and ya know, that's kinda sexy!  But I am stubborn, too.  So I wonder...how do you move forward when you have two stubborn people, living inside constructs that have been shaped by their experiences?  Don't we have to be willing to give a little?

I've shown my willingness to give a little.  I invited my friend for dinner.  I floated the idea of a get together this past weekend. I've suggested many ways in which we could spend time together that would be low key and fun.  My friend has been amenable and just when I think we are taking a step forward, it ends up being two steps backwards.  I do not feel this is all me.  It takes two people to have a misunderstanding...and two people to fix it.

We have a history, my friend and I.  A very long history of talking for a period of time, then not, then reconnecting.  A history of seeing each other a few times, then not, then reconnecting.  We were young when we met and perhaps the construct of who we were then is overshadowing any possibility of now.  I'm not the same person today that I was then, but neither is my friend.  We don't fit inside each other's construct and I don't think I want us to.  But before you jump to conclusions, let me explain what I mean. 

Partners are supposed to compliment each other.  Help each other evolve to a better state.  How boring would it be to date the mirror image of yourself?  In the months that my friend and I have been talking, I've evolved a bit. Let my guard down a bit.  My friend knows this - he even commented on it.  He's done a little of this, too, but always shuts down on me if things don't go exactly as he envisions them.  Compromise is not something that comes easy to him.  Or at least this is my perception.  But compromise is something that we as adults must do every single day.

My friend is annoyed with me right now, and might be even a little more annoyed after he reads this post.  (Yes I am that convinced he will read it).  And that's ok.  Perhaps I'm calling him on his 'ish, as he's done with me many times.

So friend, let's get over it.  There's a long weekend coming up.  Let's spend some time watching Netflix.  You never know what can develop when you're willing to step outside of your construct and compromise.

Have a great day everyone!

On Being Real...

Rain.  It brings out the melancholy in me.  Sometimes that's very welcome - like when I need to sleep.  Other times I wish it would just...go away.

I'm reflecting on something my dear friend Jamie said recently.  She commented on my last post, saying how much she enjoyed reading it.  "It's so real," she said with a huge smile on her face.  I do want to talk about Jamie's smile for a moment.  I know she doesn't realize this, but she has a beautiful smile.  There is a light within her that illuminates everything and everyone around her when she lets it shine.  Her smile is infectious.  It is warm.  It is comfort.  It is beautiful.

The words she chose - it's so real - were a huge compliment to me, though I wondered really what they meant. I started this blog after my dad passed as a form of therapy.  I have always found comfort in the written word and often it is the way I choose to communicate.  Not because I am afraid to talk, but because when I write I can process my thoughts so my words say exactly what I mean them to say -- good or bad.  Sometimes when we speak we don't get it all out.  Likewise, we don't always chew on words before we spit them out.  Anyone that knows me well, who is part of my inner circle, has been subjected to my written word - an email, a text, a card, or a note, more than once.  My words at times are eloquent and beautiful.  Other times they are caustic and they bite.  Either way, rest assured, I am fully conscious of the message they are sending.  That's what being real is to me...getting it all out, nothing hidden, no pretenses, presenting myself exactly as I am, flaws and all, and just saying to the universe, this is me.  I am neurotic.  I am insecure but also confident.  I make mistakes.  I try hard.  I love hard.  I hate hate - in any form.  I laugh.  I cry.  I've been through some ish'.  But I'm still standing.  My journey continues.  God is not done with me yet.

It took a very long time for me to do the self reflection that is so necessary to nurturing one's soul.  As a "tween" I was very awkward and very shy.  I spoke softly...so softly that my dad used to encourage me, very sternly, to speak up.  "Don't you ever get sick of people saying what to you?" he would ask.  That shyness stuck with me all the way through my 20's.  Not that it showed.  I somehow managed to be a social teenager despite the awkwardness I felt on the inside.  I connected well with all kinds of kids - the shy and quiet ones; the bookworms; the jocks; those that partied a lot; the popular and the unpopular; and I was able to adapt my behavior to whatever group I was with at the time.  There seemed to be something about the vulnerability that made all of the "clicks" simply adopt me.  Thus, I was never not surrounded by friends.  I enjoyed all of the things a typical teenage girl enjoys - proms, parties, breaking curfew, and riding in cars with boys (and even a motorcycle now and then).  But despite the seeming popularity, internally I was a mess.  I was not comfortable in my own skin.  I looked in the mirror and didn't like what I saw.  I hated my body.  I did not think I was "pretty."  I wanted to be like the pretty girls - which of course meant skinny.  But I would never be skinny, so imagine how empowering it is, at this stage of my life, to have the accepted standard of beauty embrace all body types.  Yes indeed, fat bottom girls do make the rockin' world go round!

Adulthood is not easy, and each of us comes to it at a different time and different place.  I see some 40 somethings that run around like they are 25.  And I see some 25 year olds that you would swear are 40.  As I sit and watch my own son grow in to adulthood, I see so much of myself in him.  My son is kind, quiet, polite, a very hard worker, and a wonderful son.  He is shy...so very shy...and he struggles with verbal communication, especially when really pushed to speak up.  He is trying to find his way in this world and I want to reassure him that it will be all right.  Don't get me wrong..he is doing really terrific!  He has his own apartment, a brand new (or nearly brand new) car, a great job with a salary that took me almost 20 years to earn, and he gets to enjoy just about anything he wants to.  But there is something about being out on your own that is a learning experience every day.  Like when he went to the dentist for the first time on his own health insurance and realized his dentist...the one he's had since childhood...doesn't take his insurance and thus he had to pay out of pocket.  Like car repairs are costly.  Like living in an apartment in a building that belongs to someone else, even if it is your father, means that you can't really do anything you want to do because the landlord has the final say.  Like paying bills and being grown up is really great...but stinks at the same time.

I sheltered my son...and for the record, I don't think that's a bad thing.  I know we live in a world where the term helicopter mom is thrown about and has negative connotations.  I don't know if I was necessarily a helicopter mom though I know I was, and continue to be, a protective one.  My parents were not helicopter parents yet they were, and continue to be, protective ones.  They gave me enough room to grow, yet somehow always knew what was going on in my life even if I didn't spill it to them.  Their home was, and continues to be, a safe haven for me.  Not that I've needed it...for all intents and purposes, I've lived on my own since I was 18 years old.  But I do remember several years ago when I was struggling financially.  I mentioned to my dad, in a joking kind of way, that I might have to move back home with him.  Without hesitation, without batting an eye, and almost instantaneous, his response was "if you need to, that'd be fine dear."  My dad always called me dear.  He wasn't a man that was openly demonstrative all the time.  But there was something so warm about the way he used that term with me.  Yes, me, my son, my two cats (no Coco at the time), and all my "stuff" would always be welcome at my dad's.  And what a tremendous comfort that was to me.  I know I've had this conversation with my son as he learns to live independently.  I do often wonder if I did him a disservice by being so protective of him.  But then I see the man that he is and I am so proud of him. He doesn't drink or do drugs.  He never went to parties or hung on the streets.  He goes to work every day...no matter how tired he may be.  He is kind to children, animals, seniors and everyone he meets.  He is respectful.  And the conversations we have now about all kinds of things, even limits, make me realize that I did ok, although I wasn't the June Cleaver mom that we all think we should be.  I tried.  And I am pretty sure he knows that.  And I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm a good mom.  I am the parent he turns to when he wants to talk; when he needs something; when he sees something funny and just wants to share it; when he wants to do something and suggests the idea for "us," ...and all these things make me so very happy.

The last couple of years have been a transitional time for me.  I work hard.  Very hard.  I keep crazy hours and I am on call around the clock.  That's the availability I've fostered over the years and for a while I was perfectly fine with it.  What strikes me is that I'm not really fine with it any longer.  That doesn't mean I don't love my job and care so much for the people we serve, because I do.  I am passionate about my cause.  No one would question that.  But when you are sitting vigil by your father's bedside because he is passing, and your cell phone continues to ring and the text notification continues to go off despite the fact that everyone knows where you are and why, you do realize that you've fostered the wrong kind of importance in your life.  And thus I set out to change.  And let me tell you something...change is not easy.

It's funny how people react to you when you are going through change.  Some support you.  These are the ones that you know are true.  They are completely ok with you improving the quality of your life and root for you.  Encourage you to stay on track.  Others try to keep you in the place you've been.  That's how you know who is real in your life and who isn't.  Yes, change has been an eye opening experience for me.  But it's also brought me a newfound awareness of the chains that I've placed myself under.  It feels good to break them.   No, what I mean is that it feels good to be breaking them.   I'm learning to set boundaries.  I'm finally letting go of things that don't feed my soul.  I'm opening myself up to new experiences.  I'm listening to the universe.  At the same time, I'm learning to forgive myself.  I've made mistakes.  A lot of them.  Who hasn't?  The thing about mistakes, I think, is that you keep repeating them until you are ready for the change.  There's a quote...something like "change occurs when the change of pain is less than the pain of remaining the same."  That's where I'm at.  Change is finally less painful for me than the pain of staying the same.

I've enjoyed the changing process.  Setting boundaries is empowering.  Coming in to your own is empowering.  Getting up after you've been knocked down is empowering.  Lifting others up - even those that have tried to keep you down - is empowering.  This period of my life is one that I feel good about.  I want to experience new things.  I want to have down time and enjoy it. I want to be around people that are positive influences.  I want to be around people that see me - really see me - and like what they see.  Not physically.  Intellectually and spiritually.  I want deeper connections and this is what I want to give.  And I don't just mean with intimate partners.  I also mean with family and friends.  And yes, with a partner, on an intimate level, I want true intimacy.  Not just amazing off the chain sex. I want to feed my soul.  I want something real...because that's what I want to give.   I know in order to have that, I have to be willing to be completely naked.  I have to let any would be suitor know that I am neurotic.  I am insecure but also confident.  I make mistakes.  I try hard.  I love hard.  I hate hate - in any form.  I laugh.  I cry.  I've been through some ish'.  But I'm still standing.  My journey continues.  God is not done with me yet.

The Reality Of It is....

Good morning blogger land!  I hope this post finds you well.  It's been a while since I've written.  Life has gotten in the way a bit, but if we're to be honest then I must tell you I haven't written because I've had trouble finding the words.

These past several weeks have been busy.  But that is what I do when I don't want to deal...I turn inward, focus on work, and become a bit of a recluse until I am once again ready to greet the morning sun.  We all go through those periods, and we all deal with them differently.  How I choose to deal is different from every one of you.  What I find profound about that statement is that we're all guilty of not remembering that.  We're all guilty of judging how others choose to "deal," myself included.  I've also been on the other side of that - most recently this week.  And while it initially stung, I do recognize that we are all unique individuals, with our own journeys, our own stories, our own pain, and our own methods of coping.  So perhaps the person that lashed out at me this week for how I chose to "deal" was lashing out because that is how they deal.  Perhaps their defense mechanisms leave little room for tolerance.  And perhaps the best way I can show my understanding is just that - to understand.

I've been processing so much lately.  Work pressures.  The reality of the losses in my life.  The reality of how they've impacted me on a personal and physical level.  The reality of the choices I've made and the work I must do to clean it all up.  It is very true that God, in whatever form you envision him to be, keeps placing things in front of us until we get it right.  We all struggle with that.  Things that we have ourselves so convinced that we want and need, that we justify action after action and choice after choice.  Yet the longer we hang on to that "thing" the more it wreaks havoc in our lives.

I set out on a journey after my dad's passing to do things differently, to be healthier emotionally and physically, to balance my life, and to not accept anything less than what I want.  Staying on this course has not been easy.  I'm blessed that I have the support of many - my family first and foremost.  No matter what, my family is with me and I know how much of a gift that is.  Not everyone is privileged to be surrounded by people that love them, root for them, and pick them up when they fall.  I have the support of my family and that is absolutely priceless.  My friends.  My true friends.  The ones who never bat an eye when I lash out.  The ones that I can sit with, tears and mascara streaming down my face, or alternatively in complete silence, and I am not judged either way.   The ones that saw me in the hospital three years ago at my absolute worst and still managed to bring silly props so we could take selfies and turn a low moment into a realistic yet empowering one.  My nurse friends that work in the hospital, that checked on me several times a day and that, while maybe they weren't supposed to, took the time to draw my blood because they know how difficult of a patient I can be, despite that I am so often a champion for others.  (I know many of you have no idea that I was in the hospital and you want to know what happened. So let's just get it out of the way.  I had bleeding ulcers - seven of them - self caused by years of abusing over the counter pain medication.  My doctor warned me that the "headaches" I was getting were rebound headaches from all the medication.  I didn't listen, ended up in the hospital with so much blood loss that the E.R. doctors were scratching their heads in disbelief that I was still walking and talking.  Surgery, three blood transfusions and three days later, I went home.  The good news - haven't really had a headache or taken any Excedrin or Advil since then.  Lesson learned).

Now back to the subject at hand.  It takes discipline to change your life.  It takes self reflection to know that what you've settled for in the past is no longer good enough.   People will remember the old you - the things that you accepted before and they will try and treat you now as they did then.  I am not saying that with any kind of shade being thrown at anyone.  But let's use an example.  I am on a journey to get healthier physically.  I am seeing a nutritionist and am on a pretty strict eating plan.  Everyone that I am very close to knows this.  So when you suggest that we get together for lunch, don't suggest a place that serves nothing but greasy fried burgers.  I will retain the water for days from the sodium build up.  Yes we used to enjoy those things - but I am on a journey now.  Suggest a place that serves a nice salad.  

But that's just one, very simple, example.  My journey is about more than physical health. It's also about emotional health. Removing toxicity from my life and not compromising on what I truly want. This especially pertains to dating.  Let's face it ladies.  There are a ton of hot, sexy men out there that would jump in bed with us in a heartbeat.  And that's ok if that's what you're looking for.  But that's not what I'm looking for.  I am beyond superficial at this stage of my life.  I want commitment, a partner, someone that respects me, and someone that builds me up and likewise, someone that I build up, too.  Someone that understands where I've been,  where I want to go and is coming along for the ride, because they absolutely see that I am worth the effort. No,  I am not perfect.  I have some "stuff" that I am still trying to work out.  Along this journey to make myself better, I will stumble.  I will say and do the wrong thing at the wrong time and it will irritate the crap out of you.  But my gosh...I am worth every amount of frustration that you may feel.  Because on the flip side of that, there is this person.  And she is kind.  She has a beautiful soul.  She is smart, funny and successful.  She is independent.  Fiercely independent.  She has strong beliefs and stands up for them.  She tries to do the right thing, every single day.  She's not bad to look at.  She has a pretty good sense of style.  She is a great mom - not a perfect one - but a great one.  She is a good daughter, a good friend, a good mentor to many.  She doesn't tear other people down and in fact, daily and consciously, builds people up.  She holds no prejudice.  She likes the arts, embraces all kinds of music, can cook a decent meal, keeps her house pretty immaculate.  She is a great conversationalist and connects well with people no matter their chosen path.  She has a smile that will light up any room and eyes as blue as the sky on a clear and sunny day.  She is loyal to a fault and no matter what, when you are part of her circle, she is there for you.  And yet she is stubborn.  So very stubborn and she will drive you absolutely insane...and you will never truly be able to forget her....

This all sounds very arrogant.  But the reality of it is....I didn't always believe these things.  I set out on a journey to find inner peace, to improve the quality of my life, to make positive changes that require me to make different choices.  And here I am, reeling from a week where I was judged for the way I chose to "deal" with demons that surface every now and then, despite how much I try to keep them in check.  I am no where near where I need to be.  But the fact that I can now see my worth and not let the actions of others cripple me, is so very empowering.

No, I am no where near where I need to be, but I am in a way better place than I have ever been.   And if you choose to not be with me on this journey, I accept that.  And I move forward, graciously thankful for the experiences I've had that are helping to shape who I am becoming.

Yes, the reality of it is...that I didn't always see the value of me. But I see it now.