Tag Archive | love

Sunshine

Every morning during my work week I get out of bed before 5 am. I gather the things I need for my shower. I waltz into the kitchen and start the coffee. I bring my stuffs into the bathroom. I try to float around in the quietness between my husband’s sleep sounds and our cat’s need for immediate attention. She is a bit of a diva and can become quite loud if I fail to pay attention to her before I get into the shower. I love my mornings. It is the only time of day I am completely alone with my thoughts. I turn on my laptop, I begin to think about my day. I look forward to Friday. I needed Friday afternoon to come early this week but it rolled along following its own schedule as usual. I am tired. My feet hurt. I want the beauty of Spring, her gentle warming breezes and the way her foliage brings the smile out of an otherwise gloomy day.

Sometimes the sunshine we so desperately need comes from the people in our lives. Last night hubster and I stepped away from our usual Thursday night adventures and went to a hockey event. There have been far too many tears from me lately and not enough things to smile about. I wasn’t looking forward to being a part of a “hockey family” again. I have been enjoying the peace of FREE TIME. I did not want to go to this event but love sometimes requires us to partake in things as a show of support for something our loved ones are mad for. So loving my hubster, I drove him to be with his hockey peeps.

The smile of recognition from a face across the room tells me she is glad I came to the event. We make small talk. I congratulate her on her new grand baby. I think his name is wonderful and a strong indicator that he will do grand things with his life. I mean this. I tell her I am happy that she and her husband have bought season tickets for the upcoming season. She tells me is happy to see me. She tells me she loves reading my blog. My heart melts…and swells with pride at the same instant. How can I ever tell her what those little words of sunshine mean to me?

Sunshine needs no introduction. We have all felt her warmth, her vibrancy. Happy to be by her side; we miss her when she is gone. We write songs in her honor and poems extolling her virtues. Sometime friends are the sunshine you have been longing for. Lately I have been searching for my happy.

Last night I found it. Thank you for being the ray of sunshine I needed.

Should I be Good?

Should I be bad? Don’t be a fool you fool.

Right now, as I sit to write this it is 9:20 pm I haven’t the slightest idea what I am in the mood to talk about. There has been exactly ZERO important thoughts or events or moments this week. Can it be? that my life has hit the BLAH ZONE? That lovely time of year after Winter has been put to bed but before Spring has emerged from the shower? I think I have the BLAHs. Winter has been so, well , I don’t really have a cool word for it so let’s just go with cruddy. I haven’t lost any real weight but on the flip side I haven’t really gained any real weight so I am happy. Not a word one hears much from a career “dieter” sorry WWS but that’s what I am or at least it is how I always viewed myself until recently.

I have come to the Plain of Acceptance, that low lying area of grass where we set up the lawn furniture every Spring. Time to face the facts there are some things about me that I will never be able to change or unknow or unsee or unbreak.  I used to fight against the wind but now I like to set my kite to the current that will carry me somewhere I want to be. I have formed some new friendships while being wise enough to let others go. I am really starting to enjoy being healthier.  I am the choices I make. My life is happy and peace filled because I make it this way. Life is not easy. It is filled with pain and tears and disappointments but it is also filled with love and music and laughter. It is up to us what we want to fill our lives with. For too many years I let mine be filled with the sadness I didn’t want to have. Ignoring something doesn’t make it smaller or cause it to go away I have found that the harder I try to ignore something or not deal with an issue the LARGER it becomes and the larger I become.

Here’s the thing, I don’t have the answers. I have been chasing after answers since I was twelve and felt the first pangs of not fitting in, of being different, of not feeling comfortable in my own skin; and I am just done with it. I don’t want the answers anymore. I don’t need to know. I no longer care if I don’t “fit” in. I like being a misfit. It’s who I am, it’s what I do  = )

Life is the journey we are all on together = ) Never Give Up On The Person YOU Are Meant To Be

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The Usual/Unusual

I have been called many things in my life ; weird, strange, odd, peculiar even unusual. Fine by me, I have rather enjoyed being a square peg in a round hole kind of world.  I have felt at odds with myself this past week. I have gone to extraordinary measures to punish myself for imagined shortcomings.  Guilt does not have an exclusive contract with anyone. It is a rotten emotion that is tough to shake.  This week I have been fighting a battle with myself over things beyond my control. I hate to admit this but guilt has been my steady companion.

I gave into the Dark Side. I am here to tell you that yes, they do have cookies. I ate them freely and willing but it is time now to put the emotional pain I am feeling in its proper place. I am not the same person who walks away from her own best success to eat her way through the tough times. Eating a path through your own suffering is like slapping yourself repeatedly to attain a glow to your complexion! Huh? What? I love to obsess. PERSONALITY QUIRK!!!! I love to worry over the smallest details just in case I missed something I can make better. Give it a rest already, Trish!  No one is perfect!

I had to sit myself down, have a heart to heart convo about righting my path. Sometimes the path of least resistance seems like the best idea but for me it always spins out of control somewhere between the cookie and chip aisle. I have no desire to wake up in the Lost and Found Department again wearing three day old pizza stains on my shirt and dried drool on my chin wondering when the party ended and why nobody made sure I got home safely. The older I get the easier it is to become lost and not found. For the first time in my recent history I have been right where I needed to be and I was enjoying how wonderful I was feeling; then Death came to sit with me awhile. While I am happily alive some of the people that were once in my life are now no longer of this life. No problem for them but for me, the gal who prides herself {insert lie} on not feeling {insert lie} the BIG FEELS,  I can’t seem to shake the leftover sadness.

Where am I supposed to spend all of this love that I have sitting around unused? Sadness CAN NOT be cured by eating your way to the bottom of a cookie jar. I will not give up on working to be the better version of myself. The people in my life that love me accept me as I am. It is me that makes the monsters. I chose to silence my emotions with poor food choices. Guess what? My home remedy didn’t work. The only things I accomplished? I made myself sick on junk food. I cried a lot. My anger only grew. The minute I owned what I was doing to myself I began to feel better. I am worth more than I give myself.

One of my favorite quotes by Maya Angelou “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To Be!

 

That Moment of Honesty

That moment:  an event or a feeling that changes your life path. I have had a few  moments in my time.  That moment when I realized that I meant something wonderful to someone. That moment when you finally understand that you are OK just as you are. That moment when you decide that you are worthy of more than you have allowed yourself to believe. Moments make up your lifetime. We all have bad, uncomfortable moments but it is up to you what you do with them. Don’t let small mistakes become BIG problems. My moments have taught me many things. I am stronger than I thought. I am brave. I am capable. My moments have been valuable beyond measure.

Before I met him I thought I would always be alone. Before I married him I never knew how wonderful love was. Before I understood, I thought I was broken. Before I knew who I was I yearned for something more; now I am enough. Be in YOUR MOMENTS.

I have been on my current weight loss journey for a little over a year. I have been struggling lately but mostly in my head. I am scared that I don’t have what it takes to commit to always trying to make the best choices. I have been actively lying to myself during the month of February about how I can “do this on my own. I can quit WWs!” Really? Trish! How many times do you think you can strike your head on the cement without sustaining an injury? I have heard over and over from my WW leader that no one in their right mind after tripping over one stair picks themselves up and throws themselves down the rest of the staircase but I was willing to try and ALMOST did it!

I will not dwell on the recent misconduct during my private soirée (classy expression for pity party). I was behaving like a tired toddler in serious need of a nap. Tantrum is now over. It is okay to be afraid. Understanding where the fear comes from and working through those fears is new ground for me. There will be more mistakes I am sure but the one mistake I will not make is to stop what I am doing. I am just now starting to enjoy the healthier me. The girl with more energy and passion and willingness to be in the day.

Phase Two of my journey begins. This is the phase I have never ventured too far into before. I need to find an exercise program that I will like, that will grow with my needs. I need to be more aware of the good things that I do for myself. I need to make sure that I get enough water and oil into my daily routine. Code Dingo has been a tough experience for me lately. There is nothing worse than needing to GO, wanting to GO but the guests won’t leave. Whose fault is that? Mine, of course, because I haven’t been paying attention to what my body has been trying to tell me because I have been letting my demons “talk” too loudly in my quiet space. I have been distracted, even a little sad.

I was touched by the concern of a fellow WW. She gently reminded me that she cares about how I am doing. Sometimes you don’t know what you mean to someone else. Ask the questions! Show the concern. Trust me it is worth everything. A simple question can be the spark that lights the candle which shines down the path to a better way. Thank you for that spark   ; )

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To BE   !!!

candle

 

Hands

His hands were thick and stocky. The fingers twisted and knotted from a lifetime of physical labor. He carried each of his daughters with those hands. He threatened to end many a boys lives with those hands; just let one of those boys be foolish enough to harm his girls. Those hands dried tears and helped to wipe runny noses. Those hands were quick to unleash justice from the end of his belt even if his pants threatened to fall down. I miss those hands. When I was a little girl I used to like to watch my Dad’s hands as they worked. He ran a mean a shoe shine kit. I loved watching him fix his car or work on a project or when he let me watch him shave. I would sit quietly on the edge of the sink as my Pop prepped his face for a Sunday before church shave. Everyday before my Dad left for work he would use his electric shaver or a make quick run over his chops with a cheap disposable razor but Sundays were special. On Sundays my Dad went out of his way to be dressed in his absolute best. I miss the smell of Old Spice in the air.

My Dad would stand at the bathroom sink, while hot water filled the basin and he would tell me the stories of his Dad. How his father before him had a straight razor, a strop, a brush, and a mug with a cake of shaving soap. My Dad would wet his cupped hands in the basin drawing hot water up to his face. He’d grab the boar haired brush off its little stand and wet it in the sink. He would spin that brush over the surface of the cake in the mug until the lather spilled out over the edge and I could smell the fragrant soap in the air. He would make the funniest of faces while he dragged that soapy brush all over his face and neck. I was mesmerized by the act of shaving:   rinsing, shaving, lathering, shaving…
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I loved to watch my Dad make himself beautiful. When he was finished shaving he’d pour some Old Spice into his hands rub them together quickly and then give his face a few quick slaps. “Good for what ails you” he announced to no one in particular. If I was lucky he’d dab a little on my cheeks and send me on my way. I loved smelling like a hug from my Dad  It made me feel special. =  )

As a child I remember many nights when he came home from work tired, hungry and beaten by the crap of the day. There was always something more to do. Sound familiar? How he looked forward to the weekend. How we all look forward to the weekend, feelings lost on the foolishness of youth but cherished today for what they really mean to an adult.

Now I realize that I was making memories, then I was just loving my Dad for all of the things that made him special to me.

I miss you Pops.

Not Just Another Day…

…At The Beach

Every child’s beach playset comes with the same equipment. A sand pail, a sieve, a spade, a rake, a watering can.  Maybe there will be a few cutsie shapes to make molds with. pails My favorite thing in the world when I was a kid, playing in the sand on a beach. Sun on my back, the waves slapping the shoreline. I liked shifting the sand better than anything. I used to like to pretend I was sieving for gold. I miss the days when everything felt new and magical. It is true that youth is wasted on the young. I am just now beginning to understand how blessed I have been. I miss the innocence and  wonder of youth, that nervous excitement about the unknown:  the first crush of love, the first time a boy asks you out, the first kiss that follows…

I am just trying to figure out when my firsts? turned into my bucket list! Did it happen when my scales tipped more in favor of what has been left undone or have I come to learn that life is in the business of living instead of making plans to participate? Or is it truly an age thing? and is it more acceptable to say something is on your bucket list instead of owning up to a FIRST. There’s a first time for everything yet a bucket list item can be revisited as many times as warranted.

I find myself somewhere I have never been before yet it is not a first nor does it belong on a bucket list. I am comfortable. I have found my groove just like Stella. I have had glimpses of its beauty before but I felt unworthy to stay. I am enjoying being me. No flashing lights, no big signs, no sales pressure!  Just me, the way I am! Come summer I will be hitting a beach, bringing my gear and sieving some sand. Who knows what kind of treasure I might find in the day!

Be IN Your Moments!

Oh to be 50!

February 6th. It seems like an ordinary day and for most people I am sure it is. It is one of my toughest days to get through every year. Brenda was born on this day 1967. I write about her every year on her day. Love does not diminish just because the one you loved has gone, it simply becomes something quieter, something different. The tears that are rolling down my cheeks right now are a mix of sadness and joy; sad for the things we will never do together and joy for the acceptance and love she always gave me. Just because you have siblings does not guarantee you will enjoy them but I was lucky. She was my kid sister, my friend, my confidant, my partner in crime, mine.

She would have been 50 years old today. I can’t help but wonder if her beautiful red hair would be a slight shade of pink from the subtle grey hair I am sure she would be trying not to take ownership of. Would her beautiful face be wrinkled from time? Things I will never need to know the answers for.

The girl I grew up with was shy, timid almost. I swear she was born with a broken heart. She did not know her worth. As the saying goes,”you only accept the love you think you deserve.” So yes, you guessed it; her taste in men was HORRIBLE! We were both so young living life trying to find a path to our own happiness. Why didn’t I see she was hurting? Why didn’t I know enough to help her get away from those bad influences? Now, I have the experience of life behind me to understand but not then.

I freely admit when I think about my kid sister I always see her through rose colored glasses. That is the love I have for her. She wasn’t perfect. I am the one who put her on a pedestal. I am the one who tried to fix her brokenness. I am the one who didn’t see her truths because I didn’t want to look. She did some pretty shitty things to her life. I know now she was drowning, fighting to stay above water. She didn’t like herself. She never learned to forgive herself for her own shortcomings. She was convinced she wasn’t good enough. She spent her life trying to run away from herself instead of working her way TOWARDS something better. Once upon a time I was crying to her about my own struggles over my weight, my beauty, my self worth. I told her I would give anything to be like her because I thought she had everything. She sat very quietly listening to me and when she had enough of my pity party she said,” outer beauty is a prison. No one cares what I think or if I have a brain. They just look at me and make assumptions about my intelligence. They assign me a value. Men chase me like a prize to be won. I wish I were more like you; you have everything.”

Her words broke my heart but they made me see for the first time. We all struggle. We all have pain. I never got to tell her how much I loved her for all the things she was to me. She taught me so much about the power we all have but keep hidden in ourselves. After she died I came to learn from other people in her life just how much I meant to her. She admired me. I was her older sister and she was proud of me. ME!?! I am a better person because of our struggles together. Whenever I feel like I can’t go another step I try to remember that our journey together is not over just interrupted.

I miss you, Breny.

Love You,

Trish