The Kindest Thing You Can Do is Let Someone Else Be Kind

I’ve learned countless lessons from my friend June, and while one of the biggest was a life changing moment for me, another little tidbit has stuck with me for years.

It’s a small, simple moment that reveals so much about human connection.

(And shows what a a wonderful person June was.)

I was with June downtown one day when a woman asked us if we needed directions. I knew June was familiar with the area, but for some reason she politely told the woman she didn't know the way. The woman then happily gave June a detailed set of directions.

As we walked away, I asked June why she pretended not to know where we were going.

June’s answer was simple and profound: “People like to help others. It makes them feel good.”

I can still picture the scene perfectly:

June listened intently, nodding and smiling, and the woman genuinely happy to be helping, as she pointed to the direction down around the corner where we needed go. When she finished, June thanked her with a huge, grateful smile - and even a hug! They both walked away a little happier.

In that small interaction, June taught me that sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is let someone else be kind.

It’s a beautiful reminder that connection and shared joy can be found in the simplest of exchanges.

(Gemini created)

The Unseen Burden of Certain Questions

It's incredibly tough when seemingly innocent questions cause deep pain, especially during vulnerable times. And they aren't trivial instances - some have a significant emotional impact, and they stay with us.

Sometimes, a seemingly simple question can inflict deep emotional distress, even if that's not the asker's intent. While "terrible" might not be the exact word, there are moments when a question, innocently posed, places you in an incredibly difficult and uncomfortable position. It's hard to explain, but there have been a few times in my life where such a question has left me feeling profoundly upset, precisely because of the unfair position I felt like I was in.

I'll share an example that still brings me to tears (even as I type this out), even almost 14 years later. When my Mom was in hospice, someone asked if they could visit her... during her final hours. My Mom and I were incredibly close, and I knew she would only want one person by her side during that intimate time: me; the love of her life (she would always exclaim). She wouldn't have wanted a crowd; or people gawking at her, or anything like that; she just wanted me there by her side. Further, this person was someone my Mom didn't really like.

So, through my own grief and tears, I gently said no. But then, they asked again. Having to reiterate "no" while my Mom was dying and all I wanted was to be fully present with her was excruciating. It was an unimaginable burden to be forced into that conflict during such a raw, suffering time.

I was very upset that someone would place me in such a position when I was already so vulnerable. Their focus seemed to be solely on their own desire to "be there," without considering the immense emotional cost to me, or my Mom's wishes. This person had barely been present in my Mom's life for the past two years, only showing up once when she was very sick, and then suddenly wanting to be there at the very end just didn't align with what I knew my Mom wanted. As someone who naturally tries to please others, it's already incredibly difficult for me to say no or risk hurting feelings. To do so while enduring such profound personal suffering felt almost unbearable.

This experience highlights the invisible weight certain questions can carry. It serves as a powerful reminder to consider the impact of our inquiries on others, especially when they may be navigating difficult circumstances. Even now, facing a personal medical procedure that requires assistance, I find myself hesitant to ask for help, fearing I'll inconvenience someone or put them in an awkward position where they feel obligated rather than genuinely wanting to help.

Making Memories with Friends

I had some realizations late last year.

I've shared before that when I spend time with friends, instead of just dinner, I want us to do things that creates memories for both of us (view link about this here).

In March, Oct, and Nov (of 2019), I filled my bucket list with a few things that I've thought about doing for some time. Those particular things I could have easily done on my own, but I thought it would be more special to share the experiences with a friend, so both of us have the memories.

Like overnight with animals at Fossil Rim - what a treat that trip was! (view link)

I also finally attended, The Promise, that I REALLY loved and recommend! It's been on my bucket list as well, and I knew my friend Tina would probably enjoy the live story, because she is close to God, also. (view link to see more photos)

And in the Spring I swam with otters finally! (well, sort of, but I still checked that off on my list : ) (view link)

For whatever reason, there's so many things nowadays that kids get to do, see, or go to that weren't around when we were little. One such thing is a pumpkin patch. However I was finally able to attend one at the end of October! And I invited my friends Dana and Ann. (view link about the day).

I also went to the Dallas Arboretum with my great friend Julie back in 2018 for Christmas!

Additionally, I've been walking every two months or so at really cool walking spots with my friend Erin. She shared with me the other day that she would never have done any of those things unless I asked her to go. And the first walk we went on, I surprised her and took her to the two oldest cemeteries in Fort Worth, because I remembered she loves cemeteries. We walked and talked for over 4 hours at the two cemeteries, reading tombstones, talking about what we read or about the different setups of the departed, and it was a really cool memory.

What I think is really wonderful, is me making memories is also making memories for my friends. I feel like it's an amazing gift I'm able to share with them. It didn't hit me until late last year what was actually happening, and I think it's pretty dang awesome. I'm actually crying right now because it's not necessarily a purpose in life, but this is definitely an impact on other people's lives.

To know that I'm taking Erin to places she never would have gone, spending a few dollars for Dana and Ann to go see a pumpkin patch (AND neither had ever been to the Dallas Arboretum), taking Tina to The Promise (which she probably never would have done), lifts my spirits. Spending time with Leslie at Fossil Rim on an the overnight trip was very memorable, also.

Heck, even my bucket list item for myself - to do an outdoor photo shoot cake smash - was sort of like making memories for my friends as well, right? They all enjoyed the photos and seemed to really love what I did. It was like we experienced it together.

This might sound weird and confusing, maybe a little vain, but I swear my heart is in the right place (especially because I didn't realize I was doing this), but it hit me that I like helping making memories for my friends, that they otherwise may not have ever done. Instead of doing all those things by myself, I'm spending time with dear friends and giving them an experience they simply may not have done.

Now, I don't make plans to accomplish this, it just started happening.

I do think it's a tad bizarre I completed so many of my bucket-list items in such a short period of time (just in the last 12 months), almost like I'm getting ready to die or something, lol. I'm not scared of dying, as I've had a beautiful life, but sure seems fishy lol.

I am actually glad I'm single right now. I think helping many of my friends have these experiences that they may not have done in their lives otherwise, is a beautiful thing. To be a part of this brings my heart much joy!

Affection Towards Others

This may seem obvious, but I'm going to say it anyway: People show love and/or affection with different intensities.

My Mom and Real Dad got divorced when I was seven years old.  While I saw my Dad literally only a couple of times from seven to eleven years old, I really didn't know him or see him again for 25 years.

We saw each other again when I was 35 years old. By this time, in all honesty, he was a stranger to me. But I suppose in his mind I was the same person he knew and loved 25-30 years ago - sure I was an adult, but still his child that he loved dearly.

But again - I didn't know the man or remember him from when I was a baby or child. But he knew me, of course, and had all these loving memories from when I was born up to seven years old.

We ended up becoming very close again and spoke often; I was very blessed he was back in my life and he felt the same about me being back in his life.

My Dad shared with me one time that he saw affection often growing up by his parents. He described how he would see them in the kitchen and his Dad would come up behind his Mom while doing dishes and he would wrap his arms around her and hug her from behind. So, my Dad was naturally an affectionate person because he was raised in that kind of environment and witnessed it as he grew up.  Therefore, throughout his life, he showed affection to people he cared about (me, his wives, close friends and their children, etc).

But when we met up for the first time in 25 years, he's his normal self, showing me affection (hugs and holding my hands or arm around me) because he cares about me and loves me.  Yet I didn't reciprocate because I didn't really know him.  Plus, and maybe more so, I didn't grow up in a super affectionate household. I mean, my parents and I showed affection towards each other, but it wasn't as he described.

Some people are just more affectionate and others just simply aren't. This is directly related to how someone is brought up. For instance, one of my girlfriends came from a large family with lots of nieces and nephews and babies, so there was a lot of hugging and showing affection among the family.

But you look at me, someone who's an only child, with no babies or children around (cousins, nieces, and nephews etc) and I don't show my affection as easily. I mean, for sure I was affectionate with my parents and boyfriends, don't think I'm a cold slab of a woman. I'm just not really a touchy person to people I don't know or don't feel love towards.

So when my friend would maybe put her arm around my waist or her hand on my knee, it made me feel a little funny because I didn't grow up that way. But she did grow up that way - so in her view of things, that was normal to touch other humans she cared for.

As difficult it is for me to admit this, I actually talked with my Dad about this. I explained that him showing me so much affection actually made me feel uncomfortable. I'm sure it hurt his feelings, but when someone is hugging you a lot that you don't know it makes you feel uncomfortable, right? And while he felt he knew me and he was trying to probably turn back the clock and also make up for lost time and was so happy I was back in his life, in my eyes he was a stranger trying to always put his arms around me.

I still love him with all my might and he still loved me. Luckily my admission didn't hurt our relationship, and he said he completely understood. Whew. But I didn't want to avoid him because I felt uneasy, so I decided to admit my uneasiness with him.

And of course as we grew closer, I felt more and more comfortable around him because our love deepened so quickly; it was just in the beginning it was awkward for me.

But people just don't show love the same way.

And that's okay.

 

UnNormal Thoughts After Bad News

I am very thankful for something I heard and remembered! when I was growing up.

I can't recall where I was, why I remember it, or who even said it, but I am so very thankful.

What was shared was when someone passes away or when something bad happens, it's normal for us to have unnormal or uncomfortable thoughts.

That advice has been very helpful for me all my life to not feel guilty about maybe some ill thoughts that might creep into my brain.

The example they gave was very simple, but very powerful.  Let's say you are in your teens and your Grandpa passes away.  But yet you had a slumber party to go to the weekend of the funeral.  What was explained was, it's normal to feel bad about not getting to go to the slumber party.

Again, I can't remember who shared the story or if I read it in school or when/where I heard this, but it truly has helped me all these years.

Sometimes we do have kinda rude, non-normal and what seems like unnatural thoughts when we hear about bad news that might affect plans we had.

Of course, what you eventually do is your decision you have to live with, lol, but it's normal to have initial thoughts and concerns that sometimes don't make sense in our mind.  Shouldn't I care more about going to see Grandpa?  The feeling of selfishness, guilt or shame can be tough on us.  However, because I learned at a very young age these thoughts are normal, I don't feel guilty or bad; I don't let them bother me and I don't feel bad about myself.  

I'm sharing this to hopefully help others if you have thoughts that don't really make sense after bad news.  

Remember:  Normal!

Name Calling

For some reason (that I am thankful for), I don't name call anyone.

I have been in several relationships where the guy was acting like an asshole (or was an asshole), but I never called him that.

I may have thought it, but I never told anyone to their face or via text or anything.  I have been prodded and provoked and still don't stoop to that level.  And when people do it to me, I lose all respect for them.

I am not sure why I don't name call, but again, I'm very thankful for it!

I think name calling is rude and a below-the-belt immature thing to do.  It's an insult and abusive.

I want even say the words asshole or bitch about anyone I am talking about, even if I feel that way.  I just don't name call in any shape or form.

My gut is telling me I don't name call because I did it a few times in my past (prolly arguing with a b/f while drinking in my 20s) and saw sheer anger rise from their bodies when I called them a rude name.  But I really don't remember exactly why I don't name call anyone.

I wish others were like this.  When I see or hear name calling, obviously it bothers me because it's a trait I stand by. 

Example for Kids

One of my friends shared with me something so powerful about being a parent, that I think of it quite often.  I had never heard of this before, even tho it now seems so obvious, yet I don't think many parents think this way (or maybe they do, and I just don't know it?).

I strongly feel if all parents lived this way / felt this way / did this, that kids would grow up "better" and have better relationships in their lives.

We all realize that the way we grow up affects us as adults.  I'm starting to see that a lot more lately, so these words he spoke last year have been in my mind even more.

My friend has a daughter and a son.

What my friend told me was basically, he treats his wife in such a way that he wants his son to "see" and understand how he should treat a woman.  And he wants his daughter to "see" and understand how a woman should be treated by a man.

I truly believe the world would be a different place if all parents felt this way and acted this way.

I don't think this crossed the mind of my parents.  Or many of my friends' parents.

Maybe I'm naive and a lot of parents already think this way, but I think it's a truly beautiful concept.  Why aren't we all talking about it??

I imagine he hardly ever raises his voice at his wife in front of the kids, shows affection to her, and SHOWS his kids he loves his wife with daily things like communicating well, doing things together, holding hands, etc.

My Dad told me once how he used to witness his Dad in the kitchen hugging his Mom from behind so lovingly.  I think that's why he was so affectionate towards my Mom and I  and then his new wife - because he saw all that as a child.

Profound way of thinking to be a great example and helpful for the future of your children imo.

Iyanla is Fixing my Life.

I watch with tears every Saturday night Iyanla, Fix my Life.

Iyanla provides advice to people in tough, mostly unhappy situations.  Whether it be husband and wife, siblings, or parents and their adult kids... any relationship, really, is up for the task for Iyanla to help.

The theme I am seeing is: what happens to us as a child, we bring into our relationships as adults. Until we understand this, we may have a ton of dysfunction and eventual unhappiness and broken relationships.

Let me be clear - in many broken relationships, the people are still together.   So, living with unhappiness.

Iyanla brings out of people things that they may have gone through as a child (abandonment, molestation, being the parent when one is a child, parents not caring for their kids emotionally or physically, neglect, jealousy, fear, etc).  She brings to light that the reason for the problems in relationships stems directly to those "things" that happen to us (or don't happen to us, like nurturing) in our childhood.  And we don't really see that those things from our childhood affect us as adults (and in our relationships with others - loved ones, kids, parents, sisters, whoever).

So, of course it made me reflect on my childhood.

Not because I'm in a bad relationship, but the show makes one reflect so much and so deeply about how we were raised (or not raised).  And it makes yourself wonder, if how I was raised has affected my relationships?  The answer is, of course, yes.

I watch with fascination and really listen to what Iyanla is teaching the people on her show.   It's not pointing out your flaws - it's why we are who we are and what we can do about the new found knowledge!

While I could pick on several things, I'm just going to mention a few big ones I have realized all due to watching the episodes and how Iylana helps the distressed people on the show.

• I now understand why it's been tough for me to forgive:  because I never saw my Mom forgive anyone.  Especially when I was young I saw this.  She didn't speak to one neighbor for over 25 years! 
• Of course the obvious one is alcoholism.  But it's the affects of seeing my parents drink is what is a new revelation for me.
• Another is verbal abuse.  I've written about this before.
• Also, why sex had a skewered meaning for me.  
• Being a caretaker for so long for so many people, has affected me in a profound, sometimes bad way with intriguing ramifications.  I will write about this soon.

Of course, there are good things I learned, too, from my childhood:  being self sufficient, caring, good work ethics, etc.

But it's the those few things above that I have deeply reflected about on my couch on Saturday nights as I cry, and rub my face, trying to figure out all these things that make me the messed up person I see sometimes today.

Don't get me wrong - I admit I have turned into a great, successful woman.  And I am grateful to be a work in progress.  I still have a ton to learn about life, in life, of life, and for that I am very happy and thankful about!

I will write in detail about some of the above later; go into depth about some of them and why I am torn, confused, yet enlightened.

Maybe by the time I push "publish," I will have even more revelations of my childhood that will help me be a better me today!

This isn't a BAD thing - figuring out why we do some things because of how we were raised provides great understanding for ourselves.  Then we can work on making ourselves different.  Make different or better choices in life.  Maybe even a better me!

What Gum in the Trash Taught Me

When I was in my mid 20s I was at work one day and I had a piece of gum in my mouth.  It got old and needed to be rid of. 

I looked around try to find something to put it in - piece of paper or tissue.  I finally found a little piece paper, lifted it up towards my mouth, put the gun into the paper, and quietly threw it into the trash can.

I didn't know it, but a coworker was watching me.

After I disposed of the gum in the trash can folded up in the paper, she says to me very seriously, "I sure wish my kids knew to do that."  

I thought for a moment and then explained, "well, I know to do this because I live on my own now."

I had learned the hard way having to throw away my own trash now from my cute little apartment (at the time) that it's much easier to throw away your trash without gum being stuck to the bottom of a trash can.   And, it made sense why my Mom always stressed for me to do that, lol.

So I told her that it's really real-life experience why I do this.  Her kids will get "it" about the gum (and other things) when they move out of their own as well.  

Caring for the Caregiver

I wanted to write about this, then came across this article that is too true.  Instead of reinventing the wheel, paying it forward and pasting it here:

Bottom line is, in order to take care of others, you must take care of yourself, too.  We often forget that.  DON'T.

I was blessed my Mom knew this.    

Caring for the Caregiver

Caring for an ailing spouse or elder can be satisfying but difficult work. It involves not only the task of doing, but the task of coping, figuring out creative solutions and working to keep your head above water. The needs of the caregiver often get neglected. But the more neglected the caregiver feels, the less effective he or she may be.

How Can You Help Yourself?

Recognize your feelings.

At some point, most caregivers feel helpless, angry, resentful and then guilty for having these negative feelings. Caregivers may feel angry that other members of the family don't help out enough, don't visit or are critical. While it's natural to have these feelings, it's also important not to keep them bottled up inside. Talk about these feelings with others in your family and support network.

Use support services.

Start looking into support services before you need help. If you can develop a plan before your situation becomes a crisis, you'll have a clearer head to evaluate your options. Investigate adult day care programs, which often include therapy, activities, meals and health care. Use in-home help services, including nursing care and personal care services. Most communities have meals-on-wheels programs for older and ill individuals. Call social service agencies, home health agencies, home care agencies and transportation systems for referrals.

Accept help from others.

Considering the time commitment involved in taking care of an ailing partner, parent or relative, it's easy to see why many caregivers feel isolated. Not only is it difficult to carve out time to continue pursuing hobbies and activities, but friends and families tend to shy away, either out of fear of being asked to help or simply from a lack of understanding about the disease. Take the time to explain your situation and needs to those close to you. They will be more receptive to helping, if they can. If friends or family members want to help, accept their offers. Join a support group where you can share experiences with other caregivers.

Nourish yourself.

You don't have to leave your house to do something for yourself. Read a book or watch a favorite video or DVD. Ask a friend or neighbor to come to your house so you can get out for a while, not just to do errands but to go window shopping or to take a walk in the park. Ask yourself what you need in order to take care of yourself. Do you need a support group? In-home help? Respite care? A counselor to help you sort out and understand your situation? Remember, one of the best things you can do for the person you care for is to take good care of yourself.

That's It?

I was talking to a friend of mine back in early March, and I had mentioned that since I started and now run the Omega Billiards Tour, that it kind of saved me: It gave me a sense of purpose.  Whereas the last 4 years I didn't really have a purpose or felt like I had one.  When I took care of my Mom the last 4 years of her life, I had MAJOR purpose.  After she passed, I didn't have any purpose anymore.

When you don't have a purpose in life, you walk aimlessly on earth.  You have no direction and therefore no spark of life, no desire to live, and no need to live. 

It wasn't something easy to share with him because it kind of exposed just what a deep and dark time I had been going through the last 4-5 years.

It's funny because when I said that I was pretty proud of myself (pumps fits on chest) because I really had come such a long way.

And after I told him proudly the Omega Tour gave me purpose, he looked at me and said, “that's it?”

It's really weird to be excited about something so important (esp such as this) and then someone kind of downplays it.

You see, I was barely surviving.  I didn’t even feel like living at times.  So to me, having a purpose again in life was a good thing.  Yet, in his eyes, “that's really all you're doing?  That's really all you're doing that's giving you purpose?"

Um, YES.  That was huge for me to be living again!  To FEEL like living again.   And running the Tour gave me that feeling after such a long time of being depressed and grieving.

After that exchange I got to thinking... he's right!  I should be doing more.  I should be helping more.  Being more productive; more helpful; being there for others; doing more for others; doing more for me.

So I thought of all these ideas of things that I've always wanted to do, things that were in the cobwebs of the back of my mind…. but didn't have the desire or commitment or even the energy to do them when I took my “hiatus from living.”  They were pushed back into the depths of my virtual “maybe to-do” list of things that maybe I thought I wanted to do.

I think that a lot of times we just go through life and don't think about what we want or what we want to do.

And I think that when we are grieving and extremely depressed (or clinically depressed), the last thing we feel like doing or have the energy to do is the things on our virtual, internal to-do-list.

And after taking 4-5 years from truly living, when you start to live again, you start to see things in a different light/way.

And while I'm still struggling to survive on some days still, I do want to give back to others and do more.

What are some of these things on my list?

Here's a short little list of things I’m been passionate about and recently started since "that's it?" :

• Giving pool lessons (already started) 
• Taking on a more active role in the Coalition of Quality of End of Life Care (I’m a board member)
• Donating more (already started)
• Being involved in the volunteer program at my work building (looking into it just this week)
• Get back into mediation (already started) 

Down the road:

• Public Speaking for End-of-Life-Care 
• Take some self-help classes

It’s crazy how a simple comment from someone can make such a profound effect on one’s life.

She Lived a Great Life

For the longest time I swapped sad stories about my Mom and her passing.  If I shared she passed, the convo wasn't an up-beat discussion but me sharing my depression and grief.  I wrote about this before, I know, but I wanted to share a little gem that relates to that.

I was sitting at a poker table one fine afternoon and because it was a new table, several of the players knew each other because they signed up at the same time.  Turns out it was a mother, daughter, son, and family friend.

As we all sat for a while, eventually convo starts up and the mother shares that her Mom had just recently passed away a few months ago.  I replied with my, "I am so sorry" in a certain tone that only those who have lost someone recognize it's the tone of understanding and "I've been through that too,"

Her response completely took me off guard.  After only a few months, she was still kinda in a good frame of mind and mood, and she didn't seem distraught like I was, and it had been 3 years for me since my Mom passed!

She whisked me right under her leadership wing with her words and shared, "oh, Honey, she lived a great life," not skipping a beat to let me know all was okay and that her passing wasn't an impediment in her life.

Turns out she passed away in her 90s and had a big family and didn't pass away from trauma.

I reflect on that moment, even to this day, and that was over a year ago she shared those kind, inspiring words about her Mom.  Why can't I speak like that?

I do admit that my grief has lifted and I can now talk about my Mom with a gleam in my eyes (instead of tears and frowns), but if I could have done that during the 3-4 years after her passing, maybe that would have helped me heal faster....?

The Words To Choose

About a year ago I'll never forget a very short, yet amazing exchange I had with a stranger.

I was in my own cloud of depression, not looking up as I walked into my building at work, headed to the elevators.  There are 100s and 100s of people in this 14-story building who work there, plus all the visitors on any given day to the IRS on the 6th floor,  Social Security Office on the 1st floor, and the bank on the 7th floor.

So, as I'm in my foggy cloud, I get to my set of elevators to the upper floors and a woman was standing there waiting for the elevator doors to magically open as well.

And then she says something to me, just as the doors open and we are walking into the elevators.

She said, "That shirt looks really great on you. "

I look up shyly (trying to also catch a quick look at what shirt I was wearing) and I reply nicely, "thank you so much," with a small return smile.

She gets off on floor 8, and as the doors close behind her, I recognized so deeply how impactful her choice of words were to me and how they made me feel.

Normally one would say, "I love that shirt," or "that's a great shirt."

But she actually added an element I had never thought of that is much more meaningful than just about the shirt - it's how the shirt looks on THE PERSON.

It was amazing how much more powerful her words meant to me, and how they made me feel overall.

I normally am just proud of the shirt choice I made when someone mentions they like my shirt/dress/whatever.  This day, however, I felt good overall in MYSELF because of how she said the shirt looked on me.

The words are so similar and can be interchanged so easily, yet it's amazing how more impactful one was more than the other:

That's a great shirt.
That's a great shirt on you.

It was an extremely enlightening day for me.  And has now given me more awareness when I give others compliments now.

Learning Lesson From Doing the Dishes

I remember quite vividly in my 30s I proudly said out loud to my Mom while I was cooking one day how I was glad Dad taught me how to cook hamburger meat quickly.

Her response was the opposite of my proud exclamation.  She responded with disdain and being miffed, "Your Dad never taught me that."

As I stood there baffled at her words coming at me, it was a moment in my life that taught me quite a bit.  Not about how to cook hamburger meat, but about learning.  And what we learn as a child, or to be exact, how we learn in general.  Also, that my Mom took what I said completely personal.

My Dad never once said to me as he was cooking one day when I was a child, "here, after you put the cold and raw hamburger meat in this pot on the stove, you then cover the pan with a tight lid.  You check it pretty soon after, and turn it over to get the other side brown so it gets an even cooking on both sides.  Then, after a little bit more time, you stir the hamburger meat so it all gets cooked pretty evenly.  The lid on top helps cook the hamburger meat so much faster than without a lid."

No, not what happened AT ALL.

As a kid, I just saw my Dad cook hamburger meat in a pot with a lid and noticed how fast it cooked the meat.

Yet my Mom stood there defiant, hurt, and upset she wasn't taught something, anything, by my Dad.  But, I bet she had - she just didn't realize it.  And it hurt my heart to realize I might have hurt her feelings; that she may think I didn't learn things from her, too.

I then shared this story with my Mom, to try and express that what I saw as a child from her was also learning from her.  How I learned through not direct explanations and teachings, but from non verbal words from her too:

My Mom and I used to go to the hill country about every other weekend when we could (sometimes more often).  While I'm packing the dang car, trying to get the dog in the car, rushing through the house seeing what else we forget, there's my Mom, DOING THE DISHES.

Even as I type this I have this clear picture of her washing all the dishes that were in the sink and putting them all on a towel.

She must have done that a thousand times.

I never once asked her why she was washing the dishes or why she would sometimes make us late leaving because she was washing the dang dishes, it was just something she did, something I noticed, and was part of the routine before we ever went out of town.

When we came back home from each trip exhausted from a FUN-FILLED weekend, there were never dirty dishes laying around, or food stuck to them with flies flying around (remember, I grew up poor), or even any house chores to do.  We came home to a clean kitchen!

Did she tell me why she stood there doing that?  Did she explain in detail to me how I needed to learn to do this?  No, of course not.  But guess what?  I wash my dishes before every trip now, too!  I have my whole life since the day I stepped into my own place.

So, I learned from you too, Mom.  Not with specific explanations or detailed reasons, but by watching, learning, and emulating.

Sharing Sadness from the Past?

I think I got used to telling people my sad life story.

Found my Dad passed away.
Mom was very sick and I took care of her the last 4 years of her life.
She passed away - my reason for living.
Then my biological Dad passed away.
I'm only child, so now I am have no one left.

It's a real sad, drab story.  I live alone, no roommate, or siblings and now no relatives left.

Just me.

Luckily I have God and my love (Lily, a ferocious white pitbull).

But as I tell my sob story to others, they all show empathy and can relate sometimes on some level.  Want to hug me (even strangers), want to adopt me, etc.  They are pained by my heartbreaks.

And then one day I was swapping sad stories with a lady I had just met at dinner and she finally says, "stop, there's really not more is there?  That's enough sad talk."

It dawned on me right then and there that while I have been eager to share my woes and my "look at all the bad things that have happened to me" stories with others, maybe they don't want to hear it.

Maybe, just maybe, they would rather I talk about what a loving child I was, or how I was raised in the Hill Country along the Frio River, or that I have a great job that I love, or that I'm a State and National Billiards Champion.

All these years of pain all I wanted to do was share my heartache.  Get some sympathy or empathy, I guess.  It was what I lived and breathed every day so it was what I wanted to talk about.  Instead, it makes sense: why would anyone want to hear about so much pain?

Sure, share with me your heartache and I can relate with all that has happened in my life.  But what if we swap awesome stories instead?  What if I never even mention how horrible my holidays are again to anyone?  What if I just share all the blessings in my life and STOP with the insistent sharing of all the loss and deaths and sadness for the last 7 years?

Don't Hate Yourself in a Bathing Suit - You're Missing Out!

I love the pool in Vegas!  Catch is, I didn't go to the pool until about 2010.  I never felt good in my own skin in a bathing suit to even FATHOM the idea.

I missed out on SO many years and opportunities, WOW!

No, every time I go I make a point to stop by the pool at least for an hour, to check it out it my baby suit (yes, I call it that sometimes).

There are many cool bathing suites that cover up the areas you don't like.  And honestly. NO ONE is looking at you.  They are wondering how they themselves look or are checking out the really hot chicks in skimpy baby suits.

So, GO TO THE POOL!

I read this quote the other day and it so resonated with my "older" self:

"43% of woman have missed out on a trip the beach or pool because they weren't happy with how they looked."

Some recent pics near water and me in a bathing suit. I never would have thought I would do this, but I really was missing out!

Others have written about this too:  Check out this very popular written blog about this topic.

Verbal Abuse and College

It's very difficult for me to express how torn I am about my Dad.  I call him my Dad because he was in my life since 11, but he is my StepDad.  My Real Dad, I say "Real Dad," to distinguish. 

My Dad was a very difficult man to live with.  He verbally abused my Mom and I for 25 years.  You may think that's silly.  "If he was in your life starting at 11, then that means he verbally abused you into your mid 30s?" you are asking yourself.  "How can anyone verbally abuse an adult child that moved away?"

Easy.

Even though I moved out to go to college at 18 and then lived on my own after that, even though I wasn't physically around for him to verbally abuse me, he did it via long distance, on the phone; through that stupid, freaking phone.  Or when I visited them throughout the next 18 years.

My torture lies in the fact that my Dad was a very strong proponent of college.  He kinda forced me to get good grades.  I really had no choice.  He wouldn't allow it.  He was the strict one of the two for sure.

My Mom always felt bad when I said that it was my Dad that made me go to college.  I do accept that my Mom was a huge proponent of me going to college, also, and she paid for most of my loans and ensured I was taken care of.  But she didn't get on to me about my grades.  My Dad was the one who would kill me if I came home with bad grades.  I was literally too scared NOT to get good grades.

So here is my dilemma that I have struggled with.  The man that verbally abused me, made me go to college.  Because of that, I have a great paying job, a great house, a great car, a great life.  Because of him. 

Sure, I had some help along the way with my decisions, but I had to first live in a home knowing I had no choice about going to college.

But, it's the man who verbally abused me and really, honestly, made it very tough for my Mom and I.  For 25 years.

I would find out through counseling (that I had to start going to at age 35 because I could no longer handle his anger and rudeness) that he prolly had a few mental issues (like immature personality disorder for example) that had something to do with his extreme anger, weird paranoia, and negativism.

He would call me from San Antonio, when I lived in the Dallas area, and ask me where my Mom was.

What?  I have no idea.  I am 34 years old and live 5 hours away.   

"She's not at home from work yet.  It's already 7pm and she got off at 5pm.  She's prolly dead on the side of the road after being raped," he would say with such conviction like he truly believed it.

"What?  Uh, no I haven't heard from her. I'm sure she's ok.  Running an errand or something."

"Well, if she doesn't come home soon, I'm gonna have to call the police."

"Ok, well, let me know...." I begged, as he slammed the phone in my ear.

And later I would call and he would answer all fine, "Oh, I forgot she had to go to the grocery store."  Never once thinking to call and update me on her missing, bloodied body.

One time at Christmas, I was living away after college and I bought all these presents for him and my Mom.  He opened one of the boxes and it was these cool slippers I thought he would like.

He opens them, looks at the size, and then THROWS them across the room! "Those aren't my size," he'd yell all upset and angry and hurt, like a little kid.

There were times my Dad was the greatest.  When I bought my first car, my Mom went into the house jealous without saying a word to me; I was DEEPLY hurt.  My Dad, he came up to me, kissed me on the forehead and said "I'm so proud of you, kid."  He knew my unreliable truck needed to be replaced and he also knew the feeling of your first-ever-new-car.  He also knew, "I made it."  I had a good job; because I went to college.

He also used to write little notes all the time to my Mom.  Most were apology notes, but many were how much he loved her, with really sweet words.  And after I moved away, he would write me letters about his every day life at home after he was disabled from severe heart disease and diabetes (he would joke about the squirrels or talk about his fav dog/cat).  I even found a note after his passing, that he left for me that was very sweet, special, and surprising how he left it for me to find!

Please don't think his verbal abuse was a daily thing; as it wasn't.  But, it was often enough that my Mom and I had to be very careful how we worded things; and we were very nervous and scared a lot.  It got worse with his age and because he was in so much pain from his health issues.  I suppose he took it all out on us when he would get hurt, upset, enraged, or was in pain.  For 25 years we endured his Dr Jekyll and My Hyde personality.

But, he also hung up on me a lot.  As someone who didn't understand what was going on, it was pretty tough to get yelled at then the phone slammed down in your face.

I didn't know til his funeral that he did the same thing to his sisters.  I wish I would have known that before; it would have saved me a lot of pain to know he was like that to everyone, not just special 'ole me.  When I heard from my Aunt, "he used to do that to me, also" I started to bawl.  Like a baby.

He would also yell at waiters and waitresses a lot if his food order was wrong.  My Mom and I always got scared when we went out to eat with him because we never knew if he would blow up at some unfortunate soul for something he overreacted about.  We were embarrassed and ashamed a lot.

About 5 months before his death, he was so mean and terrifying to my Mom's nurses at the hospital, the Doctor told me they were close to calling security to remove him from the premises!  As I reflect back, of course now I see that my Dad was just frightened himself about my Mom's health and wanted the nurses to treat her better.  He didn't know how to handle his emotions except through anger and yelling.

It turns out I became a pro a yelling at people.  :(  I learned from the best!  I used to not be able to control it, but I am 1000 times better now.

However, if you see that side of me, it means I'm REALLY pissed.  I hope no one ever sees that side of me.  It's not pretty.

But, when all you see your entire childhood and into your 20s is verbal abuse, I admit I didn't know any better;  I didn't know I wasn't suppose to yell at people.  Eventually my Mom would have to yell back at him, when she had the balls.  His voice would rise like the loudest clap of thunder you ever heard.  With his mean stare, loud voice, ugly and mean words, we mostly cowered.  We hardly ever defended ourselves because we were so damn scared of him.

My neighbors would tell me later that they always thought they would need to call the cops, because they could hear him yelling at my Mom through the walls and feared the worst sometimes.

He used to keep me up all night a lot in my teens and just talk to me... ALL night long.... about what I needed to do and what I was doing wrong.  If I yawned, he would yell at me, "Am I boring you?!?!"  This is at 3am when he's been berating me for hours on end, usually on a school night.

One time I fainted in church the next day because he kept me up all night. 

I was SO thankful my Mom used to get up at 415am for work, because I could finally get away from him and run into my room when she would walk down the hall to ask him, "what is she still doing up?"

One Summer when I was in college, I was trying to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon at my boyfriends apartment.  He was messing with the radio in the living room and it kept me from sleeping.  I finally couldn't handle it anymore!  I flew out the bedroom door, stormed into the living room, and shouted at him, "I'M TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP IN HERE!  TURN THAT DOWN!"

I stormed back into the room and jumped back in the bed, with a huge scowl on my forehead.  I was SO angry he was being so rude and inconsiderate!

He came in a few minutes later.  I figured he was going to apologize, but I was not ready to accept any apology from him!  I was too agitated and upset.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and said to me, almost in a whisper, and with very calm words, "All you had to do was ask."

And he left the room.

That was THE first time I learned you didn't have to yell at people to get them to do things.  That you SHOULDN'T yell at people.  Honestly.  First time I ever knew that.  :(

I was 22 years old.

I'm like any child - I did what my parents did and learned from example.  I acted just like them.  They would yell like that at each other ALL the time at the house.  I honestly knew no different.  My Dad would even wake up my Mom or I just to yell at us for something that had been festering in his mind for a couple of hours overnight.  It was brutal.

My Dad loved my Mom and I more than anything in this world.  I was the daughter he always wanted.  His wife, he considered his soul mate.  But, he had some issues that made him not understand his severe verbal abuse issues.

Since he has passed and I can think clearer, it's pretty obvious he had some mental issues.

I came home from college one time and put on the dining table about 10-20 pages I printed about verbal abuse.  He picked them up, looked at the title and said, "What is this?  I don't do this." and slammed them down on the table and stomped away very angry.

Yea, I did not handle that well.

What was I thinking?  He'd magically read all the papers and have an 'Ah Ha' moment and stop yelling at us?

So, after the incident from the boyfriend, I am NOT exaggerating to tell you it still took me 10-14 years to finally stop yelling at people.  Even tho I heard what the b/f at the time said, and FINALLY found out verbal abuse and yelling was NOT the norm, it still took me a very long time to stop doing it.

I had a couple of friends who helped me.  They would point out when I was treating waiters and waitresses wrong.  It was such a habit for me!  And I was only able to finally control it after years and years.  As I type this, I am SHOCKED it took me 10-14 years to stop yelling at people for little things for no reason.  It was tough to control.  :(

Why did my Mom stay?  Well, she didn't want another "divorce" on her hands.  She felt ashamed if another marriage didn't last.  That's how she was raised - in a time period where divorce was a huge failure looked down on.  And so she stayed with him for all those years so SHE wouldn't look bad.

He continued to hang up on me, yell at me on the phone, and was very rude to me off and on even after I left the roost.  In my mid 30s, I finally bought a tape recorder thingy for my cell phone to record his harassing messages and phone calls.  I couldn't take it anymore.  It was causing me to go into SEVERE depression, and that's about the time I also seeked counseling (which was very helpful, btw).  I don't know what I planned with those messages.  I again assumed he would magically not yell at us anymore if I showed him and made him hear himself, and how he treated us.  I never did tell him about the tapes.  I hope I never run across them.

After his passing, my Mom used to have dreams/nightmares of him yelling at her.  I still have those dreams/nightmares to this day.  It's not pleasant, I admit. 

But, as much as I should be upset and ticked at my Dad for verbally abusing my Mom and I, it is still because of his love for me that I grew up in a household where college was the ONLY option.

I was very blessed that my Dad and I got along the last 6 months of his life.  Before that, I was very upset at him and didn't like him for treating my Mom badly.  Yell at me all you want and hang up on me all the time, but when he continued to yell and scream at my Mom, it broke my heart and caused me to not like him for many years.  I don't think he knew how I felt, as I obviously couldn't show him.  The last thing you want is the wrath from my Dad.  That was not a good thing to see or be a part of.

But, the last six months, he trusted me 100% with his life and my Mom's life and finally saw me as an adult.  He even started to not make ANY decisions without me.  I'm talking BIG decisions; and any and all decisions or choices for he and my Mother.  He finally saw me as the responsible adult he and my Mom had raised.  I enjoyed our last six month together and got to see the REAL Dad in that body.

It's extremely difficult for me to talk about this, as I don't want people to think bad of him, and he still has relatives (sisters and brothers) that I am in contact with.  But the facts are the facts.  He could be a really bad person, but he could also be a really good person.

I see living life as learning experiences; and growing from them.  And from my eyes, I am not bitter, angry, mad, nor feel sorry for myself.

I never have regrets about anything in my life or my past.  I believe everything happens for a reason.  I don't look back and wish he didn't treat us badly; it was our life and we lived it and we survived it.  I don't see my childhood as a bad childhood.  It was just the way I lived.  He didn't know any better.  I have to say it was a relief to find out he prolly had some sort of mental disease.  I never wanted to think he was just a jerk.  He just had a Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde personality for sure, but we survived it. 

Life Through My Eyes

The other day I was talking to a good friend of mine about life.

You see, people think I've had a tough life.  And I have.  But, if you see the view from my eyes, you will see it's not a depressing life I've had.

Sure, I've had a lot of sad/bad/unfortunate things happen in my life, but it's the way I view these things that I feel make me a non-bitter survivor.

I don't wish for people to feel sad for me when they hear that as a child I used to sleep on the kitchen floor because it was the coolest spot in the house.  The cold tiled floor was awesome in the summer as a child.  And I didn't mind the large roaches flying above me in the middle of the night.  I had a house to live in, and a cold floor!

I don't wish anyone to ever find a loved one passed away, but I did.  I visited my parents one weekend a little different:  normally I drive down from Dallas to San Antonio on a Friday but this weekend I planned a few months in advance to fly down a day early so I could get an extra day with them.  The very first night, my Dad passed away in his sleep.  My Mom and I found him in his room.

Don't feel bad this happened, because from my point of view, it was a miracle I was there with my Mom!  I am an only child and we were together during one of the most traumatic times of our loves.  She wasn't alone.  It truly was a miracle I was there a day early.

Further, I view everything as a learning experience.  And a few months later, a good friend from Florida found her Mom passed away.  No one else could relate to her emotions and feelings or the process of dealing with a deceased person who they found.  I was able to empathize completely with what she was going through.

When my Mom passed away after a tough five years of health problems, don't feel sorry for my that I lost my best friend.  Don't feel sorry for me that I had to make the decision to take her off the breathing machine, or that I had to put her in hospice.  She gave me a gift and told me her wishes; those wishes were specific.  I was her voice, when she couldn't speak.

How is this a bad thing?

She wanted me by her side when she passed, too, and I will never forget I gave her her last wish by being there alone with her in hospice.  It was an excruciating experience, but I would never have it any other way.  We were together!

Sure, I grieved deeply and was numb and depressed and kept isolated for two full years (and more), but I did that because I loved my Mom and missed her with all my might.  Because we had a great, close, loving relationship, is the reason I mourned so much. 

From my eyes - that's a blessing, too!

It's all perspective.

I could tell you even more heartbreaking stories of things I had to endure growing up and in my life.  But, you might see them as bad things that happened to me.

I just don't see bad things that happened to me, though. They are just things that happened.

I view what I went through as learning experiences; living life; growing from them.

And from eyes, I am not bitter, angry, mad, nor feel sorry for myself.

Whether to help others with what I've been through, or to see things from a different perspective, growing and learning is what life is all about (IMHO).

That's what I see from where I'm standing.

Being Nosey

I am a nosey person.  Always have been.

If someone is texting next to me in the car, I'm curious who they are texting and will prolly ask them who (even tho it's none of my business).  If one of the bosses walks in to my bosses office and they close the door, I wonder what they are talking about?  And is it about me?  If my b/f is on the phone across the room, I wonder who he's talking to.  If someone is using their phone near me, I wonder what they are up to.  If I catch a glimpse, they are usually playing games.

I'm just a nosey person, and I will ask you about it if you are around me.  It's just the way I am.  Always been this way.

And I don't comprehend when others aren't.  It doesn't make sense to me.  How can you not be curious, also?"

Once, I sat in my car in the garage for about 30 minutes to finish a phone convo with a friend who was having problems.  My then-husband peeked his head out to see if I was home and then went back inside.  My friend asked me the next day if he asked me who I was talking to.  I said no.  And they were like, "What??!  How can he not ask or be curious?" 

"I dunno," I replied. "It doesn't make sense to me."

They went on, "I don't get it - it would drive me crazy."

"I know!"

I reflected on my nosiness the other day and as most things that make sense.... I figured out that I am nosey because of my parents.  I don't know why I never connected the two, but it makes so much sense now that I think about it.

My Mom was very nosey.  Now, maybe Moms are suppose to be because they need to check on their children, so maybe this was normal?  But, her actions (I think) helped me become a nosey person.

When I was about 15 or 16, she "found" a letter my real Dad had sent me, which included photos of him and his new wife.  I didn't leave things out and laying around, yet she said the letter was on the bed.  My Mom was so distraught because of the photos, she came home early from work that day, cried her eyes out, and thought I was going to leave her and move to be with him because from the photos she thought it was obvious they had "money."  I told her I wasn't going anywhere and she had nothing to worry about.  I had to ask my real Dad not to contact me again until I went to college because it upset her so much.

Another time, in the Summer after my senior year, I had my Mom mail a letter to a friend who was in college.  She woke me up the next morning in tears, asking me questions that she would only know from reading the letter.  I lied to her and told her what she was asking had not happened.  I then called my friend and asked him if envelope was sealed with tape, and sure enough it was. I had not taped the envelope - I licked it to seal it, so the tape confirmed she had opened and read my letter.

No wonder I'm so dang nosey!

Nosiness sucks, btw, but I've been this way my whole life.  It's who I am.  I mean no ill by asking questions, I'm just a curious beast.

Even the other day, someone posted something on Facebook and I was curious how they knew that bit of info.  It wasn't anything major, it was a minor thing, really, but how did they know when only three other people in the world knew?  I asked my b/f how they knew and he didn't know.  I asked again, he got perturbed.  "I don't know, it's not important, I don't care."

I'm thinking, how can you not even be curious?  My mind is trying to connect the dots.  My mind tries to figure things out.  Him?  He could care less.  He's not nosey, not curious.

So, of course when I saw her I asked her about it so I could get the background.

See?  Nosey bitch!

Please don't penalize me for being this way; it's not personal - it's just who I am; it's part of little 'ole me.  I don't play favorites - I'm curious about every one and every thing.

I don't pride myself on being nosey and I actually despise having this "quality."  But, I must accept that's who I am.  And I hope others accept me, too. 

And try to understand.

Is Your Signifcant Other Affecting Others?

A friend of mine used to insert her foot in her mouth all the time.  However, what she didn't know was, when she did it to the likes of me over 15 years ago, my low self esteem couldn't handle it.

Sure, she didn't mean to be that way.

Her close friends defended her.  "She's just that way, hahaha.  It's funny how often she does that."

Huh?

She was hurting me!

So, why should I put up with someone who always spoke with their foot in their mouth?  Why should I be friends with someone who hurt me all the time?

Sure, it was really MY reaction and I couldn't control my low self esteem thoughts process.  But, it still hurt back then. 

It was a huge step for me to stop talking to her.  Yep, instead of facing the situation, I simply quit talking to her.

She did live in another city, so I didn't run into her but 5-10 times a year.

Fast forward 5 years or so, and I run into her again.  I say my hello's back, but I don't engage in conversation with her.  I hear through the grapevine she got a divorce.  Then I hear she found a new guy, and they got married.

Fast forward 5 more years and I decide that the people I chose to stop talking to, that I should become mature and at least be friendly instead of standoffish.  Let's face it, avoiding people and not talking to someone is a lot harder on us than it is on them.

I see this woman again shortly thereafter and I engage in conversation with her.

WOW, was I impressed!

She not only was NOT talking out of turn, being rude, or inappropriate, she was NICE.  She was smart.  Listening to what she was doing now in her life, made me WANT to be around her; get to know her more.  I know admired her for HER maturity.

I made it a point to tell her the truth.  "Hey, I quit talking to you.  But, I like you now!  A LOT."

She then shared that her abruptness was from being with her ex husband.

Huh?

Really?

Although her new husband is a huge influence on her emotionally - he is extremely smart, caring, gifted, and encourages her - it was more the EX that caused her to be so immune to her crass words and lack of self pity toward her friends.  He was a rude, insensitive guy and it rubbed off on her.  What's funny about this is - I never saw this side of him - I had no idea he was like that. 

Anyway, her true self was never able to shine with him in her life.  He held back the woman I now love to talk to and be around.

She is now one of my most admired of all my friends.  I truly look up to her and SO enjoy being in her presence.

I'm pissed at her EX for holding back this beautiful, caring woman from us for so many years.