Tag Archive | Pops

The Comfort Zone…

…and I how I escaped. On this crazy journey to the best version of myself I wandered a little from my path and entered  the comfort zone. That false plateau with the fluffy comfortable furniture and tasty snacks where nothing EVER seems to happen.padded cell Last year during this same stretch of September my beloved Pops passed away. I have struggled to stay on my path since. I will not give up. I absolutely refuse to go back to where I once was.

While dearest hubster and I enjoyed vacation earlier this month, I took the time to throw myself out of the comfortable place. I have been lounging in there for too long. It’s been a great party, Pity, but really you must be going now. Do you think I’ll ever learn? not to give into my darker side? I hope someday I will be stronger.

I am proud of myself; I am into my second completed week of going to the gym! {Enthusiastic cheer} and this morning I went with a friend to my very first Tai Chi class. I loved it! Thank you Christine = ) I left there feeling calmer, relaxed and refreshed. After class we took time to get in a two mile walk. Stress is an everyday life occurrence for people in all walks of life. Some days I handle it well, others not so much. For most of this week I was not in a good head space. I miss my Pops. It seems surreal to me that he has been gone for a year; I have struggled with a depression brought on by his passing and the void it left in my life.

I didn’t have things going on in my life to fill the space where he once was. I have spent most of the past year maintaining the weight I am currently enjoying. VICTORY! VICTORY! If you know me you have an idea how HUGE that is. My usual operating parameter is to go full on eat until my soul is numb and broken. I am just not interested in punishing myself anymore for feeling sad. I lost a wonderful human being. There will always be a void but it has gotten smaller because the sadness is slowly changing into peace and acceptance of the situation. I am different. I have changed. I want to be in my life even when it is ugly and uncomfortable.

It is time I return to myself and the things I find joy in. Wherever I go I take myself along. It’s time to put my grief in my pocket and test the world again.  I am most happy when I am honest about my feelings. I am most successful when I give myself permission to fail. I learn the most by never giving up.

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SATURDAYS

Saturday

Sixth day in the week. BEST DAY 

My Pops suffered with dementia. When I first started looking after him he would often ask me, “Is today Saturday?”  At first I thought it was a little odd and I would correct him. As the frequency of his questioning increased it bothered me. It was so tough on me emotionally to see my beloved dad struggle with time. My hubby helped me put it into prospective one day. “It was probably the only day your Dad had for himself.”

My Dad sometimes worked two jobs. He crawled out of bed shortly after 4 am each day and left the house every morning before 5 am to go to work.  Saturday was quite possibly the ONLY day my Pops ever had off. It was his favorite day. A day he got to spend watching TV, running errands, being with his girls, relaxing. It was his BEST DAY every week.

I have made Saturday my favorite day of the week. I try to be upbeat and positive and cram as much life into every Saturday I am blessed to have. I am everything wonderful because of his love.
This will be my first Father’s Day without him by my side. I miss him terribly.

 


He is in my thoughts everyday. Happy Father’s Day, Dad! You know I love you, right?

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.

In The Evening

So it’s another Friday night, I am sitting in my office trying not to be distracted by the number of phone calls that are coming in to my landline (yes, I still have a landline) which are cold calls for crap that I will not buy or sign up for or be tricked into giving away info about myself or my sex habits or food preferences. Gone are “the good ole days” when my house phone would ring and there was an actual person on the other end of the line that I cared about. I only kept my landline for my Dad who was living with dementia. He lost many memories and was often very unsure about things around him but he KNEW my phone number. I was his lifeline from a better time. I kept that landline for him so he would always be able to find me. Sometimes life is about the small things that make us feel loved and safe.

I wish he could find me now. There are days in my life that I do not do well with:  May 15, June 9, June 11, September 28, October 12, January 30, February 6. My list used to be shorter but as I lose people in my life I find it growing. Like the last flower in a field I find myself turning against the wind, trying to be brave. Where have all the flowers gone? Where are the bees? I need to feel the warm of the sun on my face. I want to be embraced by the love that was once mine to have that I often ignored or mistreated.

I am oddly emotional this evening. I am tired. I do not want to adult today. Today I wanted to spend time with my Dad in the worst way but he had other plans. I am sad because I MISS THEM. The people in your life are your greatest gift, they know all of your secrets good, bad and scary and they choose to love you anyway. Cherish them.

Pardon the Interruption…

…We now return you to our regularly schedule programming. You never know what you are made of until you are forced to see ;  )

My Friday evenings are usually spent thinking of something inspirational and thought provoking for my group of fellow WWs. I try to blog before our weekly gathering on Saturday morning. This week was tough for me. Life dealt me a tough hand that ruined my week that threw me into a spin. My beloved Pops passed away in his sleep Wednesday night.

I knew someday it would have to happen, like most people I assumed we’d have another day. My bad. Let me say I have no regrets. I never let anything go undone when it came to my Dad. He gave me so much yet I feel like I gave him so little in return. I owed him a great deal. He taught me about perseverance, strength, love, beauty. He was not a perfect man but he was a great one. I have cried a lot in the past few days; but, I have also smiled and laughed and have been touched so profoundly by other people’s love for both me and my Dad.

I am truly blessed. My heart has grown three sizes. I thought I might not be able to keep on track and manage my foods.  I haven’t felt the need to feed my sadness. He is at peace. So I feel at peace. Whatever time we had together, whatever there was left to do that’s not yet done is okay, it’s all good. We had a great run, didn’t we DAD? I will stay the course and I will make it to my goal whatever it is because I have what I need to get there. He believed in me. He loved me. He had faith that everything always turns out just the way it is supposed to. I don’t intend to let him down. I am his daughter.

Never Give UP on the Person You Are Meant to Be

Faith is believing. I believe that someone will always be there in my corner guiding my way. These are my angels: Dad, Mom and my kid sister. Until we meet again all of my love, ❤ Trish

A heartbeat…

…that is all it takes. One heartbeat between life and death. He was a good man. He had a family. He loved the people in his life in the best possible way; by being there. This man was my Dad. I love him. He taught me to live, to be kind, to drive a car, change a tire, whistle like nobody’s business. All of the very best things that I am are because of him. He was my biggest fan and my most favorite companion. I get my singing talent from him. He loved a good laugh and horrible jokes. To me he will always be my SUPERHERO.

He could yodel and had a great Tarzan yell. He loved country (& Western) music and dabbled in turning a tune or two. He believed in a higher power and tried never to miss church. He was a good man. He had a wife and three daughters. He loved us with his whole being. My Dad never had much but was always ready to share what he could.

Over time my Dad lost many things, a daughter, a wife, precious siblings, memories he wanted to know. My Dad had vascular dementia. He never lost me. I had him in the palm of my hand. I protected and cared for him with everything I had. We made memories that will last me the rest of my life. My Dad passed away last night. There will never be a day that I won’t miss him. There will never be a day that I am not thankful for all the wonderful memories we made.

“You know that I love you Dad?” Yes, I know. I love you too, sweetheart.”

Go dance in the stars Pop… You are finally FREE!!!!assorted 014

 

What Makes Us Different…

makes us the same.

It starts early in my day on Fridays. I start thinking about what I want to blog about. I worry no one will read my thoughts or worse that no one will care.  Sometimes I wonder if the effort I put in is worth it. Then I remember this blog is for me. I write as a way to keep myself in check. I share how I am feeling in the hopes that what I have to say helps one person to realize that they are not alone. We all struggle with something :  loneliness, depression, weight, beauty, stress from a bad marriage, death of a loved one…the list is endless. What makes us different makes us the same.

I started this weight loss journey again in February. I decided it was time for me to change my outlook (I had painted it grim, I was buying my own lies hook, line, and sinker). I forgot how to be happy, to live in my moments. I had spent so much time and energy trying to be the best daughter to my Pops, who suffers with dementia, that I had stopped taking care of myself. I stopped caring about me. I should have reached out for help. Maybe, I wouldn’t have gotten so lost if I had just stopped and asked for direction.

I throw a wall of emotions out in front of me to keep me safe from prying eyes. I make people laugh so I won’t cry. I sing because I am in distress. I eat because I am angry and I don’t know how to use that negative energy in a positive way. I decided that those things that are sometimes true about me needed to be changed. I needed to change. I am learning to own my anger. I don’t have to self-destruct. I am bigger than that. I am worth more than that. I am learning to laugh from joy. I sing because it makes me happy. I  try to talk myself out of my anger. I am trying to let go of things I am unable to change.  I am growing as a person, not in the waistband, a first for me.  = )

The truth is everyone is afraid to get hurt. Life is not a free ride. It comes with pain and disappointment. It has moments of grief and anger. It is the longest, most intense adventure you will ever undertake. You deserve to be in every messy, wonderful, emotion filled moment of it. Learn to be kind to yourself. You do it for other people, learn to value yourself. Stop blaming yourself for the way things have gone in the past. Live for the now.

You have the chance to be a better version of you, right now.  You are strong enough to stand up for what you want. There is no need to feel guilty about being successful at being you. Never give up on the person you are meant to be.

What makes us different makes us the same  =  ) We can do this Cupcake!