Here we go again, right?

Just two short months after losing my grandmother, my great aunt (I think it’s really supposed to be “grand-aunt,” but you get the gist) has unexpectedly gotten onto the soon-to-depart list.

Aunt Dot has no children of her own; however, she and my Uncle Tommy (RIP 1986) were temporary surrogate parents to many  in the family when there were difficulties in their households through the years. Then, later on, she became a secondary grandmother (and great-grandmother) figure to some, including me. She’s always been a part of my core family, living close by when I was a child and then later (when Uncle Tommy died) living with my grandparents in NY, and then moving down to Virginia to live down the hall from them when I’d moved south, also.

I absolutely love her. She and I have had some wonderful conversations over the years, and have very similar outlooks in many ways. I found I could sometimes talk to her about some things I couldn’t with my grandmother (which was a nice complement, because they lived 5 doors down from each other… so I could just go back and forth between the two when I visited).  What I absolutely adore is the fact that you can’t let her tiny size (4′11″ish? I can’t remember, before the osteoporosis set in) fool you… she’s a piece of steel! Though not outwardly affectionate, she does have a very kind side to her… her demeanor is what I think of as an “English stoicism,” passed down from her earlier generations. She has a great, dry humor, wry smile, and yes, sometimes harsh judgment…  but nothing I haven’t been guilty of, myself.

Anyway, with all the deaths in my family over the past 10 months (if she goes, this will be #4 in my immediate family – Grandpa, my husband’s Grandpa, Grandma, and now her), it’s sad to see that the noise has died down, as if most have become numb to — or tired of — dying days. I get so indignant because I just want to say (and so I’ll just say it here):

IT’S NOT HER FAULT!!!!

I get it — people are tired of traveling for the dying. A lot’s gone on in the past year, also in my extended family. But I hate that it feels like Aunt Dot’s getting ignored because everyone’s tired. I know, it’s not the presence that really counts (it’s the whole lifetime of the relationship), but you know, I think there’s something to say about presence in those last days. Granted, she might pull through, but right now, she’s on the very, very sharp edge of a knife, and don’t you think it counts to FEEL loved, in that condition, regardless of which way it goes?

No too long ago, there was a great analogy to Aunt Dot on my favorite TV show, Grey’s Anatomy. There was a 90-something-year-old woman who was in there, and though she was childless, her adult niece and two nephews were there at her bedside. At first, the doctors were appalled because the relatives kept on asking if she was gone yet, if they thought it would be long (because of flights out, etc.). Later on, you find out that she’s been hospitalized and on the verge of dying something like a dozen times within the past few years, and they’re tired of being at the bedside, just to have her pull through. Pretty callous, right?

That is, until told from the woman’s side of the story. In a few moments of lucidity, the doctors were talking to her. The niece and nephews were temporarily out of the room, and she asked about them since she’d just come to. The doctors made some comments about it being better that they weren’t there, and she looked up at them, clear-eyed, and said, “They are MY PEOPLE. You might not like them, but every time, EVERY SINGLE TIME, I’ve been in the hospital, they have flown in from all over the country to be at my bedside. So understand, they are MY PEOPLE. Everyone needs to have their PEOPLE.” The lady later (finally) died.

And funny, even though Aunt Dot was fine at the time I watched that episode, it gives me shivers to think that I thought of her when I watched it.

Right now, she needs HER PEOPLE.

And funny enough, it took me a week-and-a-half to get here… initially, I’d planned on coming earlier, but I swear, there was a bizarre voice in my head that with no hesitation told me to WAIT, regardless of the fact that they’d pronounced at the hospital that she probably wouldn’t make it through the night… 10 days ago. So I did, because I’ve learned over the past decade to listen to that voice– even when it defies logic — when it’s so strong. And this weekend, she’s now in the comfort of her own home (on Hospice, granted, but home), and I am here with my mother and Aunt Rose (Aunt Dot’s 1 remaining sister) to spend a little bit of time with her.

Last night, she was lucid for several hours. We talked and joked, and she even ate some ice cream and had a little bit of coffee. The best thing is that she knew I was there. Her eyes lit up when she saw me.

It was a great evening, and though I had felt pretty guilty for listening to “that voice” and not coming to see her a week ago (even moreso because the only people who’ve been here with her have been my mother, Aunt Rose, and Uncle Wasyl), I’m glad it turned out the timing was right. And though she might not remember it consciously today (we’ll see), I know that somewhere underneath it all, she knows in her heart that she’s had some of HER PEOPLE here during her time of need. Because Lord knows, she’s been the helping hand (see the previous post on Helping Hands in Our Lives)  for many others during theirs.

So everyone, please don’t let life wear you down… and open your heart past the every day distractions so you don’t forget who needs THEIR PEOPLE. Because one day, it very well might be you in that sick bed, and who will be there for you?

Love you, Aunt Dot!

Noticing the Hands in our Lives

Last weekend, we were in Virginia, visiting my (maternal) grandmother in the hospital. I won’t go into details, but if you read down further in this blog (see May the Road Rise Up to Meet You, from August 2008), you’ll know I lost my (maternal) grandfather last summer. In between then and now, my husband’s grandfather passed away, as well. So I guess you’d say we’ve had our share of loss over the past six months.

Anyway, my  grandmother is an important woman in my life who’s always been a strong and in charge kind of person. Through a bad series of events, the woman who just six months ago was a rock is now basically weak and struggling on her deathbed, and I’ve found I’m completely unprepared for it. It’s funny; the men seem to go in our family — we’ve come to accept that — but the women tend to hang around for a long time. Really, we’re supposed to be immortal, right? Come on, now… she’s only 84!!

So, seeing her declining so quickly, I just wanted to sit by her bedside, hold her hand, and take it all in. She wasn’t in a talkative mode, but I was pretty sure she enjoyed the company; the entire time I held her hand, she held on pretty tightly.

It was during one of those quiet moments, while I just sat holding her hand, looking at our hands grasped together, and feeling that unfamiliar connection, that I fully realized in a wave of emotion how much I love this woman, and how much a part of my life she’s been.

A flood of memories then filled my mind, not just of holding the hands of those who were important to me when they were on their way out — such as my grandfather, my father, my great-grandmother — but many others. When I thought about it, I realized that though I haven’t held hands with many, I could recall their hands in detail, even though I’d never consciously thought about it.

They were all beautiful… and unique.

Though you hear the saying, “The eyes are the window to the soul,” the hands… well, they tell the story. Rough and strong? Small and delicate? Petite but tough? Decisive and hard-working? Every set is marked from life in one way or the other, with the individual’s experience almost etched in like a tattoo.

While I sat there thinking about that, looking at both my grandmother’s and my hands together and feeling very close to her, I thought a lot about our relationship throughout my life. Though until my adult years we hadn’t really been a conversational pair with each other, she’s always had an important supportive role to me. She’s been my silent helper through times of trouble, whether emotionally, financially, or just because she was there (even when I didn’t realize it, at the time). Even later, when she became somewhat more open with discussion, there have been times when I’d touch on a sensitive subject, something with which I’d had problems, and she would voice her support with few words, or even a look — and though I’ve never felt comfortable relaying a lot of my petty details to her, it’s always felt like we’ve understood each other, anyway, and I could feel my connection to her.

I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time I held her hand. And then I asked myself, why not? I hold my husband’s and children’s hands regularly. But why does everyone shy away from holding the hands of those they love, even when it’s not those two types of relationships (and sometimes not even those)? Is it because that’s too personal, and touches too much on emotion, which as adults, we’re not supposed to have?

She’s definitely been one of the helping hands in my life. So I guess I felt like it was time for me to be one for her, even if it was just to hold her hand while she’s fighting a declining battle for her life. This time, I wanted to be her support. All I could hope for was that she could somehow win this fight… or that if it was to be a lost battle, that it would end as quickly and painlessly as possible.

I love you, Grandma. Regardless of what happens, thank you for being a helping hand in my life.

Things I’d Write to My Younger Self

I’m stealing this idea from my favorite morning radio show, Bob and Sheri, where Sheri Lynch wrote on this subject (see www.bobandsheri.com). I really loved it, and it got me thinking…  hmmm, what would I say if I were to write a letter to my younger self, from say, maybe 22 or so years ago, when I was in the height of teenage confusion, rebellion, and (self-)destruction? Here’s a try:

Dear Me,

It’s me, sending you a letter from 22 years in the future. Pushing 40!!! Yikes! I know you think that’s a faraway place, but it will be here before you know it — take it from me.

Anyway, yes, we make it this far. And quite a bit goes on between now and then! I know, I know, you have a thousand questions, and you’re just DYING to know what happens! I won’t spoil it; you must live it for yourself, because that’s what makes us what we become (which is a good thing). Plus, then it won’t be any “fun”!

However, I will give you a few words of wisdom from our experience:

• Learn how to laugh — really laugh — sooner. It feels really good, and is a remedy for almost anything. It could easily replace that junk you’re doing, and it’s much more permanent (and much less harmful).
• If you must find a guy to be with, find one that makes you laugh, not cry. Get rid of that loser you’re with; you’ll probably have a lot more fun over the next few years if you do (I WILL give you this spoiler: the relationship WILL end, and you really will be much happier when it does. I PROMISE).
• Speaking of relationships, stop ignoring your “gut,” and go WITH it. Be more assertive and go after what you really want; don’t settle for what’s there on a plate for you if it’s not what you want. You deserve it! You do eventually figure that out and are much better for it, but PHEW! what a bumpy (and somewhat wasteful) ride along the way…
• Your parents love you, regardless of what you think. They just have their own issues – lots of them — and there is no way you can have the maturity now to understand what they are. You may not like them, but you can love them, and one day, you may lose them, and then it will be too late. Ditto for the others in your immediate family. Celebrate their quirkiness, and realize that EVERYONE’S family is quirky in one way or another!
• You are a whole lot smarter than you think.
• You are a whole lot stronger than you think.
• You are a whole lot more beautiful than you think.
• Stop wasting your time cutting classes, and get your schoolwork done! It would’ve been a lot easier (and faster) getting through college if we’d had some scholarships to help us out (this also points back to the fact that you’re a lot smarter than you think). And it really wouldn’t have taken a lot more work than you did.
• Do yoga. It helps. Everything.

So, do we end up happy? Definitely! Regardless of what you do to maybe make it a little easier, there is still a very challenging path along the way. However, I wouldn’t change that for the world; though I still wouldn’t say life’s perfect, NOBODY’S life is perfect, and the sooner you realize that, the better! Overall, though, you create the very life that deep down you really, really, want…. but are afraid to acknowledge. It will take a lot of work, but it will be worth it.

Because you’ll get here.

Grandma, I can’t believe this…. but I think I understand!

When I was a child, we lived in the same house as my grandparents in Long Island, NY. While both of them worked,  I remember them coming home in the evening — my grandfather all kinds of, “Hi, how was your day?” before he went upstairs to the apartment that had been made up there. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. My grandmother — nothing. She’d barely grumble, “Hi,” when she was on her way in and on her way out. And on the weekends, though my sister would go upstairs and spend time with her, I barely ever heard her speak. Even when I was up there with them — I would spend hours talking to my grandfather, yet I could barely get a few sentences out of my grandmother. What an extreme! And then, years later — I’m equivocating this to sometime around the time my grandfather retired and she was still working — it was like the dam broke, and she hasn’t stopped talking since!

I have to admit, she’s always been an enigma to me. I always wondered a) why she was SOOOOO quiet for all of those years, and b) why suddenly did she start talking, to another extreme, later on!

Very recently, the lightbulb went off over my head, and I think I understand. I UNDERSTAND!

I’m on a self-initiated talking hiatus at home right now, and I can see that it’s making my husband and my kids pretty uncomfortable. Because by nature, I am the communicator; before I started my business, my job was marketing and communications, so communicating was my LIFE. But I’m done for now.

By nature, I’m also a take-charge individual, and it was years ago established in an unspoken way that I would be director of the household, for EVERYTHING. Not that I wanted it; that’s just how it all went. And I didn’t really realize it — or mind it — while I was distracted and spending many hours with my work away from home. But right now, I’m tired of it.

And I’m just tired.

I remember sometime around 5 years ago, my husband went through this period when he was convinced that I didn’t love him anymore (I did), that I was having an affair in all of my work travel (I wasn’t), and that I was going to leave him (I wasn’t). It was mostly based on the fact that I was SOOO tired at the end of the day, that I was just done communicating — between directing my department during the day and directing everything else at home after work, I just couldn’t move my mouth any more! After the kids went to bed, I just wanted peace and quiet, and to turn on the boob tube and vegetate for awhile before going to bed so I could start the next day’s cycle all over again. On the other hand, he was a computer programmer and self-contained during the day, so he craved additional interaction at the end of the day. Somehow, without consulting me, he’d gotten himself all worked up in his head (without talking to me) that he made it a reality to him — and I had no idea, except the fact that he was cranky and sullen for awhile, and even though I’d ask him what was the matter, he wouldn’t talk about it. It took us having a really big blowup over some stupid things he did during this period — and me telling him I wouldn’t live like that — to find out the root of the problem and be able to work on it and get better.

I purposely worked on communicating with him more, paying him more attention, and it became more of a habit. So, by the time I’d decided to start my business and quit my job, we were humming along pretty well again. But here’s the problem — I’m a communicator, and spend a majority of my time with the plants now, which, though it is very soothing and balancing, leaves me with a deficit in the area of communication. I crave it, and 2 years later, I miss the constant, constant, constancy of having to do it! Before, I had a department of people and everyone related to my job to deal with every day. I had a group of friends that I saw at work all the time with whom I’d share a lunch break and regularly share and unload any issues that needed to be vented. And so, I could easily get past irritations around the household because I was able to study them, then release them, and then forget about them through my day-to-day interactions.

So, it’s been 2 years now, and though I do have a good group of friends, it’s a very different world for me now. I don’t have that regular interaction with others; most of my interactions are today very topical and, though friendly, just don’t do anything in the way of helping me work out the real stuff on my own. So I guess I’ve increasingly depended on my husband to be my sounding board, and I guess somewhere down the road over this period, I’ve also started to expect him to take a more active role in being there for me and maybe take on some of the household directing. Because having a business such as mine, until I can afford to hire someone (or go back to my old life at the office), that alone takes more time and stress than I’d ever imagined.

What a big mistake.

And I know it! Why, after 14 years (now 16, since it’s been 2 years since I quit my job to work full time on my own business), I should expect him to even SOMETIMES take the wheel and honestly think about how to make my life easier and ease some of my stress without me having to repeat, repeat, repeat myself, is really sort of silly, I guess. I guess it would be like having to actually drive a car after being chauffered without a care for 14 years.

I guess I thought, due to those long ago problems, that he would REVEL in the fact that he is a more central part of my life now, and that I depend on him more as my partner in crime. That he would be happy that he has what he wanted and naturally want to be more front and center, and take some kind of leadership role to alleviate all of my stressors. But instead, he seems to have lulled himself into some blissful ignorance so he doesn’t have to feel my stress, and go about living life and expecting that everything will be taken care of and work out just fine. All the details, the dirt, and the ownership of everything, to make sure it gets done — that’s mine. And I apparently, in his mind, have more time to do that now, with me having a business at home. And if I mention it, all I get is, “Oh, I feel the stress… you have no idea!” Really? I really DON’T have any idea, because he’s not doing anything to actually HELP alleviate it all, and he doesn’t even listen to our conversations anymore — it’s usually very, VERY obvious that he couldn’t be bothered with talking to me, that I should just get on and TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING, and let him go on with his day.

With that being said, even my “old role” doesn’t seem to work anymore. I communicate, I assign, I give deadlines, I explain financial issues, I try to be creative in problem solving — and over the past 6-12 months, I’ve noticed that it seems that no one is hearing me AT ALL anymore, husband and kids alike. In their eyes, it’s all on me, I guess. They don’t want to deal with the dirt, the difficulties, the stress, and so it’s obviously all on my shoulders, no matter how much I try to share it! I lose sleep at night, I have a constant pit in my stomach, it’s gotten to the point that I don’t enjoy my life anymore because IT’S ALL ON ME. And then, after I’ve tried to throw up red flags and asked for help, and dispairingly fallen back into the standard director role with which I’ve always been assigned, I have to repeat myself to my husband and my children over and over and OVER again, and STILL not be heard – and I HATE repeating myself to begin with.

Don’t get me wrong — it’s not like my husband doesn’t do ANYTHING. He does plenty — but he’s really like a robot. Typically, he only does something if I tell him it needs to be done, and usually, it’s nothing more, nothing less. That in itself is a problem, because after 2 years, I would think he would remember my guidelines about some things having to do with the business, but if I don’t outline the whole thing to a T, inevitably, it doesn’t get done. It’s like he just throws out all of the information instead of processing it, and just figures I will input all of the information every single time it comes up again.

Did I tell you I’m tired?

THIS is why. So I guess I’ve decided I just don’t feel like talking anymore, because a) it’s a waste of my time and effort, and b) maybe it will kickstart the thinking and action process of the others in my household so that it WON’T ALL BE ON ME. Because, for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m at a breaking point, I don’t know where to go from here, and I don’t feel like I have anybody to help me. But since I tried talking and yelling from the mountaintop until my face turned blue, I figured it would take much less effort for me to just zip it all up and let it go. I WANT TO NOT HAVE TO WORRY FOR AWHILE. Though I know I will; however, sometimes something has to break before it can be fixed. And I think my back has broken. Unfortunately, my husband is not the best at confrontation, either, so though I know he knows something is really wrong, he’s afraid to open the can of worms.

But I’M tired of doing it.

Back to my grandmother. She and I have very similar personalities in some ways. She likes directing and taking control. So maybe, at some point, she just decided to say “Screw it!” and clammed up. Because now that I think of it, she started talking again when my grandfather retired and she hadn’t yet. I remember her saying that he was driving her CRAZY. But it may have been that since his world changed, he took a different role, and she felt like she could talk again.

Good God, I really hope it won’t be years, like it was with her! I don’t think I can last that long in a stasis like this.

Why Those Folks Who Try Out for American Idol Don’t Get It

Tonight, I came the closest I’ve ever come to killing myself. Unfortunately, at the moment of deepest disdain, I couldn’t get my hands on any ice picks that I could shove into my eye and then further into my brain.

What would cause such angst, you ask? Sometimes, the simplest thing can set the most optimistic person over the edge. It’s just like for those of you who may have read the classic (one of my favorite books), Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (by Doug Adams) — I never could imagine what Adams meant or at what he was driving in his book via the description of the alien race, the Vogons, who could put someone through the most unimaginable torture and drive them to suicide by merely reciting poetry.

Tonight, I understand the metaphor. It was when my husband and I were FORCED to sit through the entire 2.5 hours of my younger daughter’s elementary school “talent” show. I use quotes there, because I definitely question the English definition of the word after tonight.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if 21 out of the 35 “acts” weren’t vocals — if you want to call them that. Bad karaoke is what I would call them. One time — and only one time — when my husband and I were first dating, my husband, in a drunken state, got up on that bar stage and sang “The Immigrant Song” (yes, by Led Zeppelin) with a bunch of his Navy buddies, thinking I would a) be impressed by his courage/idiocy, or b) take such pity on him and think he was so terrible, that I’d think he was cute. I went with a little bit of both. But see, here’s the point — getting up on that stage, my one-day-to-be-husband KNEW he couldn’t sing. He didn’t even try to hide it. But it was all in good fun, and he didn’t even pretend he thought he could sing. And that drunken night, years ago, he was about par with 95% of those 21 acts that got up there and really thought they were good tonight.

I recall my daughter (the one in the show, and one of the few acts that were NOT singing) telling us about tryouts. Tryouts? Really? You mean, there were some who DIDN’T make it into the show? Afterwards, upon prodding my daughter about that, she told me that the “tryouts” were just to make sure there was a legitimate “act.” I guess I question what the music teacher (the one who put this abomination on) thought was legitimate.

So, in struggling to keep myself from running out of that auditorium (well, actually, it’s what they call the “all-purpose room” these days — forget about a separate auditorium, gymasium, and lunchroom!) screaming and pulling my hair out, I pondered why, oh why, these kids would think they were THAT good. I’m serious; you had some kids in 2 or even 3 acts mixed up with a combination of 1 or 2 other kids, “singing” song after song.

 And then it hit me, like a light bulb.

Part of why I disagree wholeheartedly with our socialistic “no child left behind” thing today in the U.S. is that I think in a big part it causes our children to lack the drive to get ahead in the world. Remember the idea of capitalism? That the idea that the person who works the hardest and has the best outcome deserves to have the most and get the most recognition for it? In case you’ve forgotten, it was one of the ideas on which this country was founded. And it’s one of the reasons that the U.S. became a world leader. And now, we’re faltering on a global scale… isn’t it a bit too coincidental that it’s when we now have a generation of kids who aren’t allowed to show any differentiated points of view, in case of offending SOMEONE? Or, when they play T-Ball, baseball, softball, or whatever, ”no one loses, everyone’s a winner”? Or, better yet, growing up with an elementary school grading system that is structured (at least in our state) to just show a child is “at grade level” (with 85% or more of the rest of the children), instead of how well they actually stack up to other kids? Then, they wonder why the children get so stressed about the “End of Grade Exams” — when they actually have to be GRADED on their work.

I remember in middle school, when we had a talent show, that we DID have to try out, and we DID have to have some iota of talent to be in it. And then, someone actually WON. Which means…. gasp…. that someone LOST. And then, during the rest of my performing arts years — dancing, acting, cheerleading, and the like — trying out for something actually meant you competed to win, which meant that some people DIDN’T MAKE IT. I didn’t even make it sometimes, and I had quite a bit of training. And you know what? If I really wanted to do it, that made me try again. And try harder. Usually, it would make me dig in my heels and cause me to become better at whatever “it” was. Or, I would move on to something else, knowing I tried my best and it wasn’t good enough to compete.

That’s reality. That’s life.

Today, everyone’s afraid of telling someone they’re not good enough, or that they’re just not good at something. There are all of these school-aged sports where “nobody loses.” And there are talent shows where nobody wins, with music teachers telling children whose singing should be limited to the ears of the immediate family — or even just the bathroom walls — that they’re worthy of standing up on stage in front of the whole school and parents and singing into a microphone, with the illusion that they are worthy of doing so.

When I was growing up, we took lessons. Music lessons, dance lessons, and yes, voice lessons, if you wanted to get onto stage. Yes, there was a lot of natural talent in the mix, but raw talent almost never made it without SOME training. Would I have ever tried to break a cinderblock with my bare hands if I’d never taken extensive martial arts training? I think not. Would someone who’s never trained in diving try a triple flip, jackknife, or anything of the sort? Probably not. And my parents would never have let me just join a diving competition without it. And when I tried that jackknife and floundered badly, my parents would at least say something like, “… but you swim really well!”

Today, things are different. All this lack of competition, lack of training, lack of honesty, and lack of WINNING and LOSING is what feeds into the mediocrity we see more and more. And we marvel at the poor souls who, never having LOST at little, local talent competitions (though never having won, either), take a huge jump from their protected, everyone-is-the-same hometown disillusionment to the REAL WORLD and try out for American Idol, only to be crushed and confused when the judges give them the boot.

When watching those painful shows of personal disillusionment, I never understand if and how those people actually think that they’re even close to worthy of trying out for a national TV show like American Idol. It had to all be an act — no one could actually be THAT clueless about themselves, right? And so many.

But now, I understand.

And since I couldn’t find any sharp objects with which I could end my misery while enduring this masquerade of a “talent” show tonight, my wandering mind finally put together that long-pondered mystery of those terrible American Idol tryouts with these evil, group-think practices that promote mediocrity and sameness.

I get it. Simon Cowell, where are you when we need you???

The End of Another Personal Decade… the 30’s

 

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…

Last weekend, I hit the big…. 3-9. 39. It’s surreal to me. Because I can’t figure out where the 30’s went!!!

You know, many people get hit in the face at “x-0″ ages — 30, 40, etc. However, I seem to follow the pattern of getting hit hard at the “x-9″ ages. 29 was MUCH harder than 30 for me, and I think 39 is hitting me far worse than 40 will at this time next year (though it makes me “throw up in my mouth a little bit” to even type that at this moment!). I think maybe it’s because at the”9″ age, I’m looking back, saying, “HOW did that decade just rush by?” And at the “0″ age, I’m over it, and ready to tackle the NEXT 10 years!

So, I guess I’m a little in mourning. Where did the 30’s go? I don’t have any regrets, that for sure, because in reflection, I know I accomplished a lot, including:

• My children were born at the end of my 20’s, so my husband and I have been through toddlerhood and young childhood with them (and they’re on the verge of puberty now, QUITE another adventure!);
• I continued to quickly climb the corporate ladder and reached the position and paycheck to which I’d aspired; 
• I learned what it was like to lose a parent. That in itself was nothing to consider an accomplishment, but what was an empowering experience was how my sister and I stood together, and successfully fought through a muddy and process-limiting legal system for more than THREE YEARS after our father’s death to get some justice and retribution from the careless doctor who misdiagnosed him and essentially caused his death;
• I realized that once I’d reached the position and paycheck to which I’d aspired that it really didn’t make me happy, so I did some soul-searching, formulated a plan, quit the job, and started my own business — in a completely different field; and
• My husband, children, and I started Tae Kwon Do and worked through it together to earn our black belts together, and we will be testing for our 2nd degree black belt this spring — so yes, you can even do that in your 30’s AND BEYOND!

I’ve learned a lot in the past decade, and feel I am well equipped to tackle the next decade. However, inside my head, I think I’m still someone who thinks that the 40’s are a long ways away, and that I’ll get there… but “some day.” Well, I guess that “some day” is creeping up, and quickly! More and more of my friends are not just in their 40’s, but also in their 50’s, and I continuously marvel at them and think incredulously that there’s NO WAY they could be in their 50’s — remember when we thought the 50’s were OLD? Yet, these friends of mine are so young, so vibrant, and in general just embracing life, that I just have to wonder at my former silliness. I’ve just learned enough to enjoy life this decade, and now I finally feel empowered and equipped to face the world!

So, I guess it’s not so bad after all. I should be proud to be where I am, not just “at my age,” but just where I am, period. Because it’s where I want to be.

2 Weeks of Holiday… or a Month?

 

I started this blog just to have someplace where I could blurt out thoughts when they came to me, and it also serves as a great reason to occasionally procrastinate from doing some work that needs to be done.

I haven’t even had the patience or focus to even do the latter lately!

 We’re so ADD normally that during the holidays, there’s usually so much going on that we just have to check out on anything that’s more complicated than planning Christmas, between gifts, get togethers, parties, and visits with the family (or wherever). Work? Are you kidding me? Almost anyone with whom I’m in contact is nicer, more laid back, and sometimes downright LAZY this time of year. How many days until the next party or planned event? How many days until the holiday? And until the next?

In the US, we should take after our European counterparts — just be realistic and take several weeks of holiday. Then we could just daydream and/or focus on the upcoming festivities. Maybe more people wouldn’t be so cranky and frustrated for the season! Take away the stress of having to focus on working with so much else going on, and people might actually enjoy the holidays more. That’s my theory, and I’m sticking with it!

 On another note, it’s mostly during this time of year that I find myself regressing back to years past and different periods of my life. Why is that? What is it about the holidays that makes people get all sentimental and have the mental photos of their past become more clearly in focus during this period? Maybe it’s because this is when we send and get cards from people who, though we don’t communicate regularly at any other time of the year, are still a heartstring in our lives in one way or another. I try to read into the cards, and really enjoy when they send a letter (even if it’s the send-to-everybody update, which I write myself), because it makes me feel a little more connected to them, even if they’re far away. Occasionally, I still eek out news that I haven’t gotten directly, just from reading the cards. My best friend from childhood sort of dropped out of contact a few years ago, and we’ve been relegated to just the Christmas card. This year, the card came not from she, her husband, and her son, but just from she and her son. So, obviously, her husband is out of the picture now. Which, of course, piques my curiosity. I may give her a call soon…  Anyway, that’s happened a couple of times. And usually, it’s the person’s subtle way of telling us and the world that the marriage didn’t work out, for one reason or another. It’s definitely not the first time I’ve figured something out from that!

I received a card from one of my very good friends, whom I haven’t seen for 10 years now. We talk several times a year, and (of course) exchange cards during the holidays (and birthdays). In it, she wrote, “I was just thinking about one of the New Year’s parties you had back in New York… boy, that was years ago, but how fun!”

:::sigh and a smile::: Yes, how fun. And how long ago! (Of course, that was B.C.!) I had the best New Year’s parties (if I do say so myself), when I had a heap of people crashed all over the apartment I lived in back then. Wow — with the house we have now, we could have even MORE people! There’s a thought — maybe next year, a “New Year’s Eve” party reunion… hmm, sounds pretty interesting…  and SCARY fun!

It’s a thought, anyway. Because we’re coming to the day that the kids are big enough to tolerate Mom and Dad having a party and/or attending one. We actually went to a New Year’s party last year, and are thinking of inviting a few people over this year, because we’ve gotten through the “It’s too much of a pain” time period, when they were younger. Now, they actually enjoy it!

 And so, the cycle will begin again… 

Happy holidays to all. Enjoy!

Feeling Solitary

You know, I feel like writing here today, but when my mind wandered to a subject matter, it just continued to… wander. Several different subjects popped up in my head, but I couldn’t really decide on one. And then, I thought of a recurring theme…

 Oh, yeah… solitude… as in part of my blog’s name…

I’ve become quite accustomed to it, since I left my corporate job to focus on my own business early last year. And don’t get me wrong — I’m crazy busy all the time, but my solitude and internal thoughts make me crazy. It’s different now than it used to be. I used to always be surrounded by people. Now I’m surrounded by plants, and though in constant contact with people, it’s much more at a distance than it used to be. Because now, I’m the business owner, and a lot of my contact is with customers. I don’t really have the camaraderie that I had when I worked WITH people, without them being a CUSTOMER. And the people I encounter now are generally MUCH different than those with whom I’m most comfortable. You know, though I KNEW that on paper (theoretically) before, I didn’t REALLY understand that until maybe 6 months ago. And it will continue to be so, even when I hire people. Because then, no matter how well we get along, I will always be the BOSS, which puts up a wall of sorts. And that’s funny, too, because I was a BOSS for most of my corporate life, but that was different. I wasn’t the TOP BOSS, or owner, president, whatever. That makes a difference.

So I feel a bit lonely, I guess. This is pretty hard for an extrovert, as I am! Actually, it’s killing me!!!!  AAAGGGHHH!!!

That’s just so funny for me to write. Because besides the business, I’m married and have 2 kids; I also help with the marketing for our Tae Kwon Do school, and am in constant contact with the people there (as well as in class and teaching class constantly). And really, I’m around and talking with people all the time.

Does that make sense?

The good part is, I’ve really gotten to know myself, and I think I’ve really developed my inner sense of the universe. I definitely have evolved. It’s just that I’ve discovered that I really don’t have anyone to discuss it with anymore. Isn’t that strange? I thought that people with whom I used to be “close” were really my friends — we had many of the same thoughts, values, and dreams. But when I actually decided to bite the bullet and actually  follow my dream, it was like… well, it was like I quickly became disassociated from them. Like I’d done something forbidden. Or, probably in reality, I just left their public eye, and it was too hard to try to keep in touch, because there’s too much in everyone’s lives to keep up-to-date.

My husband, as much as I love him, only understands parts of me. Well, a large part of me. But not all, and there are things he really doesn’t understand about what I’m thinking and how I feel about certain things. Plus, he’s in my every day life, and quite honestly, I really sometimes need to vent to someone because he makes me crazy (as all spouses will do). And there are times I need to run my irritation by someone outside of the homefront, to get an outside perspective about it.

I’m close with my retired mother, but she is sometimes of a very different mindset than me. She’s had three marriages over the years, and none that I would call solid, long-term relationships (I don’t think any of the three lasted for more than five years). And we approach things very differently in life — she’s very fixed, very habitual, very happy with being comfortable. I never have been. I always want to move on, do something new, evolve, get to the next level. If it doesn’t work, toss it and move on. We’re very close, but there’s sometimes a lack of understanding about stuff. And she’s my mother — there’s just a line, know what I mean? Different points in life, too.

And my husband is sometimes a lot like my mother. He really doesn’t have the burning desire for forward movement that I do, of carving new paths. I’m always thinking about four steps ahead of where I am now, and he’s just thinking of… well, now. Don’t get me wrong – he loves adventure, and does like problem solving, but he just can’t see past the moment, really. And his mantra is, if it works, why fuss with it? Sometimes he’d rather put 10 Band-Aids on something instead of just fixing it. That just makes me BONKERS, because often it ends up wasting a lot more time and money than if it were just fixed in the first place. And it seems that he’s sort of in la-la land more often than I’d like him to be. In reality, I think he’s always been like that, but I was too distracted to notice. Now it bugs me, because it takes nothing short of me having a complete meltdown for him to engage sometimes.

Plus, he’s not a puzzle thinker, like I am. I think of the “four steps ahead” thing as a puzzle-like capability. That was a part of my former profession — how to put the pieces of the puzzle together to make the whole program work.

So, I guess in my former corporate world, I made many acquaintances with like minds, and I felt satisfied that way. I guess I thought I would always have that, and I was really surprised at how quickly I was “removed” from it. Oh, sure, lunches for awhile afterwards, but it tapered off. Now, there’s only 2-3 people I see with any regularity, and it’s typically for lunch, about once a month. The few friends I have left from over the years are spread out around the country, and once or twice a year doesn’t really quench that need for a comrade.

So, what to do?

I don’t know. I guess that’s my point. It’s not like I don’t have people around me, but we mostly keep each other at an arm’s length. I don’t have any friends anymore that I would just call to BS with any regularity, ponder some point about life, and then be fulfilled and move on with my day. Also, I don’t feel like I get really rich information introduced to chew on from outside of my world… I love to turn over new information, chew it up, process it, debate it, and come to some kind of conclusion. I can only run the wheel by myself for so long. Where I think I’ve become much more focused, it seems those around me have become much more distracted.

There was a very, very longtime friend I had over the years (I think it’s about 24 years since I’ve known him), who was my best, best, BEST friend of all time. Because in many ways, we were very like minded, but we were different enough to challenge each other constantly. I LOVED the mental sparring! Kept me cutting edge. And we had been through SO MUCH together, growing up and all. We were close all the way up until… well, maybe 7 years ago? It sort of faded out. But a chunk of our friendship dissolved after I eloped with my husband 13 years ago, and then even moreso when I had children 11 years ago. The downfall of the male-female FRIENDSHIP, I guess. It wasn’t that my husband cared — he got along fine with my friend — but my friend was obviously harboring OTHER hopes that I’d not much considered, as much as I loved him, because he was more like my BROTHER than anything else –  and I think playing with that fire with someone who knows you THAT well, and vice versa, can be more detrimental than When Harry Met Sally ever explored! So, he got more and more bitter and obnoxious, and finally, we just sort of lost touch, to vaguely reconnect again a few years ago. And now, it’s about once a year (if that) when we speak, and there’s now a wall there, too.   I miss him!

And now, my husband — after being with him for 15 years — gets a little put out every time I speak with my friend. I’m not sure why, but he gets a little paranoid and a little jealous for awhile every time we speak (which in that respect, is lucky is not so often). There’s nothing new he knows now that he didn’t know back then, so that puzzles me.  

But anyway, it’s strange. I’m not sure where I am. I’m not sure how to remedy this. I don’t want to go back to the corporate world, because I really like what I’m doing now — creating MY OWN corporate world. But I guess I’m sorta lost. And, as I have always been the shoulder for many, the one many come to with their problems and questions, I find I have no one who can be my shoulder, or even just my comrade. It’s very sad to me that this blog is the only place I can express these thoughts, which I think is a large part of why I created it in the first place.  Yet, I’m not saying I’m pitying myself — there’s no time for pity in this world, especially self-pity, because it’s useless – I’m just feeling a bit lonely and needing to unload somewhere.

So, why not here?