My Emotional Switzerland Trip

I saw a note on FaceBook in late September.  "Anyone want to be a travel buddy and help me fly to Switzerland?" one of my friends posted.

My girlfriend, Cristina, had an 8-month old son and Little Marco's Dad lives in Switzerland and she was moving her and Little Marco there from Texas.

I saw the post, went about my day, had dinner, got in bed, phone starts to vibrate.

It's Cristina asking me if I want to help her fly to Switzerland.  I was like, "uh, I dunno about that."  She suggests maybe I could use the break (because of my Mom's recent passing), along with helping her with her move.

Turns out she has trouble flying. To the point she has to take motion-sickness meds which causes her to sleep and also not be able to eat (which means no energy).  Since she would be traveling so far with many layovers with a baby and extra bags (because she was moving there), her and Little Marco would need definitely need some help.

Cristina and Marco had budgeted for a travel companion when they saved up money for the move, but I still felt guilty about that part.  But Marco couldn't fly there and back AND get the apartment ready for the move all the while trying to work. 

Here's the kicker about me, tho, lol:  I hate long flights, despise international travel, have never been around a baby before, and the trip was only about 2-3 weeks away.

But, the next day, I researched my vacation time, checked if my passport was up-to-date, and debated, "should I even go?  Really?  This would be crazy."

Then I talked to my boss about the dates, remembered there was a holiday on that Monday we would be traveling, and thought, "I actually, could feasibly go on this trip." 

So I told her yes.

And then a funny thing happened.

I got excited!

OMG, I was going to Switzerland!  I hate long flights and international travel but hey, I was going to Switzerland!  I hear it's so beautiful there and who could pass up this opportunity anyway??

So, why was this trip so emotional for me, you are asking yourself?

Well, it moved me to tears throughout the entire trip because I was able to go because sadly, my Mom passed.  Although she would have loved for me to go and have this experience, it's because of her passing I could go at all, because otherwise I would be home taking care of her (for the last 1 1/2  years I haven't traveled).

Further, every flight I ever took (I used to travel quite often), I would always call my Mom before take off.  She would tell me every time, "Pass on to the pilot he has precious cargo - he better fly safe!"  And I also called her each time I landed, "I made it, Mom."  "Oh good," she would reply with an always added "I love you."

"I love you, too, Mom."

So, flying to Austin the night before to meet Cristina was brutal.  And then the next day EACH leg of the trip to and from Switzerland was brutal.

I cried, every single take off and landing.

When Cristina's parents dropped us off at the airport, I lost it!  I'm crying and crying as I see parents trying to say goodbye to their daughter and grandson.  I cried more than they did because they were all trying to keep it together, but I was so moved and torn up about what I was witnessing because I know how much Cristina is going to miss her family and I know how much the Grandparents are going to miss Little Marco and his Mom (their beloved daughter).

Then when we finally get to Switzerland, Marco's sisters met us at the airport at 730 in the morning to welcome their new family members (and the first grand baby/nephew of the family).  I lost it again as Marco finally got to hold Cristina and Little Marco after being apart for the last few months, while at the same time his sisters were enamored with joy and tears about finally meeting Little Marco for the first time.  Luckily I finally wasn't the only one crying hard, lol.

But it was very moving for me to see both spectrum's in a 24-hour time period, all the while trying to fly without hearing my Mom's voice.

As the 5 days in Switzerland progressed, many friends back home asked me how the scenery was and was it beautiful there.  The answer was yes.  Because I saw the most amazing thing I have prolly ever witnessed:  the undying love between a Mother and Child.

I don't think anyone would have ever guessed this was Cristina's first child, because she is a such a great Mother to Little Marco - caring, empathized, loved, cherished, nurtured, etc. 

Little Marco warmed up to me and he and I became fast friends.  You would never have guessed I hadn't EVER been around a baby before.  But it was Marco that allowed me to be his friend and within only a few days, he and I would have long talks and spend quality time together as I wanted Cristina and Marco to be able to get things for their new apartment.  Little Marco was charming and alluring all at the same time to me. For an 8-month-old, he stole my heart!

But it was the love between Mother and Child that moved me.

I loved the times I overheard Cristina laugh when Little Marco would smile at her.  I loved seeing Little Marco light up a room when his Mom would walk in. I loved how Cristina could make Little Marco stop crying or start to laugh and giggle. I loved how she helped Little Marco transition from Texas with Grandparents to Switzerland with Mom and Dad.  And I loved that I was able to witness for 5 full days the boundless, tremendous, immeasurable love between a Mother and her Child. 

I am so extremely grateful beyond words I was able to witness such a thing.  I honestly don't think I would have ever seen the bond like this between a Mother and Child if I didn't go on this trip.  While maybe in the future I might see friends with their babies, nothing will compare to this.  It was for 5 entire, full, amazing, moving days. The timing was beautiful, although exponentially emotional, but so amazingly wonderful to be a part of.  I now truly understand just how much my Mom loved me and had love for me.  And why we were so beautifully close.  Even as I write this, I'm crying.

I admire Cristina and Marco. This was a huge step but the right step, but it wasn't easy.  Cristina left her entire family, her friends, and job to do what was right for Little Marco and give him am amazing country to grow up in with both his parents.

Mourning the loss of the most important person in your life is very difficult to describe and to also overcome.  And although Cristina and Marco thought the trip to Switzerland would take my mind off things (i.e., my Mom's passing), it reinforced just how much I love my Mom with all my might. 

I will never be able to explain just how moving, emotional, sentimental, and therapeutic this trip was for me and my heart.

I'm so very grateful Cristina thought of little 'ole me to help her move.  She told me she thought the trip would distract me from my sorrow and she also expressed she knew what a helpful person I was and thought I could be a big help to her.

I am so glad she thought of me!

Because Cristina and Little Marco needed my help, and instead, they helped me.

Pic I took in Switzerland

My Mom and I, when we traveled from Japan to the States (I was about 1 1/2).

Grandma, Little Marco, and all the luggage, at the Austin, Texas Airport

Welcome balloons in English and German

Little Marco and I

 

 Cristina and Little Marco

Dad and Little Marco

My first stamp in my passport

 The Cutey Pie!!

My Mom's Cute Butt

As most women, my Mom was very proud.  She would insist on wearing her wig to the Emergency Room, or tell me, "Can we go to the ER tomorrow?  I want to take a bath before we go in."  Putting off the inevitable for another day, but at least she felt better after I bathed her.  She was a silly woman but I loved her with all my might.

One day I will be that same woman who wants to ensure I look and feel clean before I hobble with a my walking cane into the hospital.

One of my Mom's greatest fears was to be in a nursing home.  I tried to keep that promise to her but a year ago she was in the hospital for 50 days and she therefore did not get out of bed a lot.  This meant she could no longer walk on her own, not even to just the bathroom.  Her legs just stopped working well because they had no muscle/strength from lack of use.  She hadn't used them in so long and she was already very frail and weak. 

So, when she was "well enough" to leave the hospital, she had to go to a rehab place to get therapy to learn to walk again.  This thing is, rehab places are really another way to say "nursing home."

I looked at a few places (the insurance company gave us choices) and I was repulsed by most of them.  Almost nightmare-ish type of places that I would kill myself before letting her stay in a place like that.  Luckily I finally found a decent one near our house and that allowed me to visit her in the morning before work and also easily after work.

She HATED the place.  But I tried to remind her that this place was a palace compared to the others I saw.

She ate in her room and stayed in her room for about 45 days she was there, because she couldn't walk on her own.  She was there for physical therapy and so once a day (but not on weekends) she was wheeled down the hall to a room to work on her arm and leg exercises.  There were other older folks there for physical rehab, too, and she liked most of the people who helped her try to get better.

However, the workers, the aides, the butt-wipers, she did NOT like.  The ladies who treated her like an object and not a human, she despised.  She hated when she would have to push the nurse button and wait for anywhere from 5-15 mins before someone came back in to remove the pee pan from her bottom while she laid on it in her bed.

She also hated the food.  I would actually bring her things to eat from the house because she wouldn't eat the food.  I don't blame her.  It was crappy.

I would make her sandwiches or bring her favorite pudding, yogurt, or pineapple chunks.

My Mom hated for anyone to see her naked, but she didn't mind the nurses who helped her go to the bathroom in the hospital, or the nurses' aides in the hospital who bathed her in bed.  But the "aides" in the nursing home made her feel degraded.  They would wipe her hard, or not clean her enough.  She was ashamed she was at this state in her life where she couldn't take care of herself.  Humiliated and degraded. 

My Mom wanted to come home so badly, but I could not take care of her and also work.  It broke my heart.  :(  But we both had no choice.

It was a brutal time.

So, our goal was for her to get strong enough just to be able to get out of the bed and use the bedside commode.  If she could do that, she could come home!

In the meantime of her doing her daily exercises during the week, she mostly watched tv and savored the few visits of her favorite neighbor (okay, the only neighbor to visit) and the two physical therapists that made her feel like a human.

My Mom was so embarrassed of her butt and nakedness, that I finally figured out that it was no coincidence that she needed to go number two almost every time I visited.  I honestly feel she would hold her potty each day until I got there, because she despised the "aides" wiping her.  Seeing her.  Treating her with no respect.

She would say shyly, "I think I have to go."  I would grab two latex gloves from the box next to the door, get out the butt wipes and grab the bed pan.

She also had impeccable timing during my evening visits.  I would bring us dinner and as I'm biting into my hamburger or taco, she would say, "uh oh,"  lol.

I never minded helping her.  And although she hated me seeing her butt more than anyone else, she trusted me more than anyone else.

She knew I would be gentle and yet also wipe til she was completely clean.  I took care of my Mom.  Like she took care of me when I was a baby.  :)

She would always say so dang embarrassed and frustrated, "don't look at me" which meant, "don't look at my naked butt." 

How do you not look past butt cheeks when you are trying to clean down there, lol?

She was in her mid to late 60s and at this point in life, her butt was not tight anymore and she despised her whole entire body and what it now looked like.  What I saw was a very cute butt though.  It was my Moms butt, and it was cute!

I would check her sore (she always got one at the bottom of her spine from laying in bed for so long) and I would change her bandages after I wiped her.

In Tuesdays With Morrie, Morrie states when he can no longer wipe his butt, he knows he has lost all dignity.  It's the thing he dreaded most - the day he can no longer wipe his own a$$.

Eventually, I would make her laugh during her, "uh, oh, I gotta go #2," episodes.  I would put the latex gloves on, and hold my hands up acting all sanitary like I was preparing for surgery.  She would laugh and laugh at me as I asked an imaginary nurse for a scalpel, lol.

I was SO proud of my Mom - she worked so hard to get out of "that place" and she did!  About 45 days later, she was able to come back home and use the bedside commode.  And yes, wipe her own butt again.  :)

Only a few more weeks she worked with the visiting physical therapist and was able to walk through the house with her cute walker with wheels and walk into her bathroom on her own, for her own privacy for once.

She would be able to do this on her own for 8 months, until the day she slipped and broke her hip, which led to her death after surgery complications.

I miss her cute butt!

So Proud!

Went to AA.com today to print out my Itinerary, and this is what I saw!

(click to enlarge)

I swear, I teared up I was so impressed!

Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  You rock!

Quote of Thursday

From one of my many prices of paper on my desk from my Chicken Soup for the Soul calendar:

When you're busy comparing one person to another or one experience to something else, you often miss out on what's right before you.

Lying

Lying is that cruel word that when it hits you in the face, you feel so low and hurt, that you can barely think of anything else.

When caught in a lie, your heart races and you get very nervous.  You wonder if the person you lied to will ever forgive you.

The lies that are never found out cause no harm, unless you let the guilt riddle your insides.

If you lie to deceive, that's obviously much more hurtful. 

However, even if you tell a little white lie so that your loved ones wont hurt over something stupid, though, it is still very hurtful if the person finds out.

I have an intuition about something and I think I was lied to.  I think they are trying to "protect" me from getting upset over nothing.  But I can tell you that I would prefer to be that judge.  Because instead, I'm infuriated that I was lied to.  I spend waking hours in bed thinking about it.  Yes, I'm consumed.

But then I have to remember - I've told little lies, too.  I don't like to hurt people and also don't want friends or loves ones to over react and so I, myself, have made choices and the decisions when to fib and not tell the truth.

The truth is not just a reflection of the person you are trying to protect, it sometimes a reflection of yourself.  Sometimes we fib to save face, or can't bear to show our true colors.

I have to rationalize that when people lie to me, they are thinking they are looking out for me; they don't want me to hurt or overreact over something menial... TO THEM. 

But I admit I struggle.  Intuition is a very strong feeling.  My intuition radar has allowed me to spot lies.  And you know what?  It sucks!  Having an intuition about danger is a good thing.  But having this gut feeling you have been lied to over something you deserve to be told the truth about is painful.  And excruciating. 

But, if I rationalize (which I have to do over and over and over), what I was lied about was menial.  Yes, it was a lie, but the lie could have been over something much worse.  That's honestly the only thing keeping my mind from going crazy with obsessing about the lie.  It could be worse.

I still wish I was told the truth.

I have a friend who never admits to lies.  He says once a lie has been admitted to, a woman will forever bring it up and also always wonder if he is lying again.

And now, I will always wonder.  

TV Anchorman gets Scare of Lizard!!

Check out his reaction.  OMG!  This is hysterical.  Yep, this is my local tv station!

Speech for My Mom

Although my Mom did not want a service, my friends and neighbors wanted to hold a Celebration of Life for my Mom, Toni.  I obliged.  And, although it was a very, very emotionally tough day, I am glad I agreed.

I wanted to say some words about my Mom.  And here is the speech I wrote a few days before the Celebration of Life, and no, I did not make it through without crying.  :(

I read it slow, and deliberate. 

-------------

Toni Bailey, My Mom

The past week has been brutal.  Every song on the radio is about death, love, missing someone, etc.  I turned to another station on the drive over here, and Sweet Child of Mine was playing.  Ugh.  I was hoping Baby Got Back would come on or something.

I want to start off by first thanking my dear neighbor, David.  It was no accident that out of all the houses in Fort Worth, Mom and I picked a house next to a Chaplin.  God was watching over us.  David would visit Mom EVERY SINGLE time she was in the hospital.  Even sometimes every other day.  Mom cherished his prayers and visits more than I can say.

I want to thank everyone for being here.  I hate to impose on anyone and it feels real weird you all are here, but at the same time I SO appreciate the love and support I feel.

I’m not sure if Mom would be honored or ticked off right now to see you all here. haha

Mom was born in Up State New York and lived there until she went to college.  As a child and growing up, she was surrounded by beautiful mountains, amazing scenery, snow-filled winters, and nature galore.  I remember as a child when we would visit my Grandfather (her beloved Dad) that we would get sap from maple trees for syrup.

My Mom was THE most important person in my life.  She took care of me on her own when my real father had to leave back in 1976.  Yes, I know, some of you weren’t even born yet.

Back then, it wasn’t easy to take care of a child on your own – my Mom couldn’t even buy a car without being married back in the 1970s. She met my Dad (Tom Bailey) in 1980 or so, and shortly thereafter they got married.  

I was born in Okinawa, Japan (I know, I don’t look Japanese) but Mom and I moved to San Antonio in 1972, and she lived there til 2008.  She lived in San Antonio for Thirty Six years.

My Mom owned some land in the Texas Hill Country (only about an hour and 15 minutes from our house in San Antonio) and we would go there almost every single weekend from when I was 8 to about 16 years old.  You know, 16, that’s about the age we don’t want to go on family vacations anymore.

My Mom used to check the weather starting on Wednesdays to see if the weather was good enough for us to go to The River for the upcoming weekend.  I finally told her one day, "Mom, I'll just become a meteorologist and tell you the weather."  And as many of you know, that is my now profession and has been for 20 years.

I “grew up” along the Frio River.  Beautiful country side filled with awesome oak trees, lots of deer and other animals, and a great river to swim and tube in.  I love and desire nature so much now because I grew up in such a beautiful place with my Mom.  I have so many fond, amazing memories of Mom and I tubing, cooking out, knocking over deer blinds, and wandering the country side together looking for cool rocks or cool animals. 

When my Mom sent me off to college at Texas A&M, it was harder on her than me.  She cried for days.  Her little girl was gone.  But after college I moved back to San Antonio for my job and lived there til about 1998.  I saw my parents often and spoke to them on the phone every other day.

When I moved to Fort Worth in 2000, I had been in Jacksonville, FL for 2 years for work.  I flew my Mom to Florida so she could help me drive back to Texas.  We had walkie talkies and would talk back and forth while she had the dog in the car and I had the cats in my truck.  Yes, cell phones weren't common yet even back in 2000.  We had a great time taking three leisurely days back to Texas.  Yes, I said three days, lol.

Mom had her first long stay in a San Antonio hospital back in 2007.   My Dad passed 5 months later.

Mom and I bought a house together in Fort Worth and moved there in March 2008.  It was the first time she had a house with central air and carpet.  I was a very proud daughter.  :)

Mom had advance emphysema and she struggled through it very proudly and with a lot of strength. She HATED the hospital and wanted to be home so badly every time she had to go in.  

Mom didn’t get out much because she had to wear oxygen 24/hours a day, and she didn’t want people to see her like that.  But one of our last trips outside the home was to Macy’s and Carrabbas just in July. At Macy’s she bought some make-up and loafers.  She also wanted a new purse.  She only wanted the best (she wouldn’t listen to me that we could find a cheaper purse at Target or Walmart).  I pushed her around the store in her little wheel chair and we got all of her goodies.  As I got her in the car, and all of our things, I realized we had not paid for her new purse!  Yep, Mom and Daughter clepto-team.  Now you know the truth about us!  We were so scared people would come running out to arrest us, that we fled the scene!  But, admittedly, she loved that purse.

Mom’s wishes were not to be in a nursing home, not to pass away in a hospital, have me by her side, and to pass away peacefully and not in pain.  She got every wish.

While we sat together in Hospice, I put sunglasses on her. She looked like a rock star!  I held her hand, cried, described the pictures on the wall to her, cried, talked about The River, told her over and over again how much I loved her.  I sure wish she could have responded to me.  :(

She means more to me than anything and I will never be the same.  

My Mom gave up a lot of sacrifices for me.  I only saw the best Mom in the world who loved her daughter with all her might.  She also loved animals.  She worked at the humane society after she retired and she would get angry at the customers when they treated their pets badly.  Mom was ”talked to” several times for her attitude, lol.  But, she cared for animals deeply.

In the hospital she would tell all the nurses I was her favorite daughter.  Then I would have to add, “I’m her only daughter” and we would all laugh.

My Mom had a huge heart, was very caring, loved people with all her might, cherished that I had such great friends, and we were best friends.  I could talk to her about anything.  Yep, even sex.  Right, Brian? 

Her unconditional love for me is something I will treasure the rest of my life.  She told me on many occasions I was the love of her life.  And I would hug her tightly and say, “you too.” 

If you got to meet my lovely Mom, I think you are truly blessed.  She was one in a million.  And this has been the hardest week of my life.

Funeral Home Blues

The hospice place where my Mom had her final hours (August 19) recommended a place for cremation (Mom's wishes).

I called the funeral home Saturday morning, as I was told to call them the next morning following Mom's passing.

The funeral guy on the phone bluntly said he couldn't meet that day and "he was going out of town anyway."

What? 

But I want my Mom cremated!

The day my Dad passed, we went to the funeral home and he was cremated right away.  Granted that was 4 years ago and in a different city, but we were able to meet and make arrangements right away.

So, I expected to meet with this funeral home asap so they could cremate my Mom right away. 

He said they had to get county and city permits anyway and those offices weren't open til Monday.

He said he could make me an appt for 11am Monday.  I asked it be sooner in the morning and he said he had a viewing t 10 and couldn't do it before 11.  So I relinquished.

Then the donation bank called me.  The lovely lady offered her genuine condolences right away for my loss.  She asked if she could record our convo and I said I wasn't ready and started to bawl.

I shared with her my convo with the funeral home guy and she told me cremation takes two days by law, and that indeed he was right: they had to wait for the permits only. 

She also assured me Mom was being taken care of. 

"Are you sure she's okay?" I asked through tears.

"Yes, the M. E.'s office has her in a fridge and are taking care of her."

"Promise?" I ask bawling and shaking.

"I promise" she said softly and assuring.

I also shared with her the guy never said he was sorry or offered his condolences.  She suggested I call another funeral home who could meet with me today but I was too emotionally exhausted to start calling around.

When I arrived Monday morning at 11am at the funeral home, I had a friend in tow so I wasn't alone.  I met with a lady (not the guy who was on the phone from Saturday) and she handled all the paperwork. 

At the very beginning she asked, "What is his birthday?"

What?

"His?"

"It's my Mom" I said with an raised agitated voice.  She replied quickly, "Oh, I was given the wrong info.  I'm sorry," as she crossed out "male" and marks "female" on the form.

"How is her name spelled?" I inquired.

"T O N I."

Okay, so they got that right and you think a TONI is a male??

Half way through the "meeting," I recognized she had yet to offer her condolences either, just like the other guy on the phone call from Saturday.

I waited til the very end.  I waited til the final hand shake to see if she would say anything.

Instead, she simply ended the meeting with, "I'll call you when she's ready.  Thank you." And shook my hand.

As we walked down the hall to leave, I turned to her and told her I had something to say about the phone call on Saturday.

"He never offered his condolences.  As a matter of fact, you haven't either."

She stood there and replied, "I am so sorry."

Hmm... was she sorry for my Mom's passing or that she didn't say she was sorry?

She stopped me again and said she would take my words of advice into consideration and thanked me for saying something.

I turned to her and told her, "This is one of the the most difficult times in my life and I can't believe I have to offer your business such obvious advice."

She thanked me again and said she appreciated the feedback.

I go home and look up how to submit an obituary.  The funeral home has to do it.

What??

I send the newspaper an email asking if I can do it myself.  They tell me via email Tuesday morning I have to go through the funeral home.

Why didn't the funeral home tell me this?  Why would they not bring this up?  I had no idea I had to go through them.  We were able to email my Dad's obit, so I guess things have changed, but how was I to know that? 

The lady from the funeral home calls me just a couple of hours later and tells me Mom is ready.  Still no condolences.  I tell her I will TRY to pick her up later that day (Tuesday). I know it's going to be very difficult for me to pick up her ashes.  I also mention I would like to submit an obit.  She replies, "okay."

I call the newspaper on Tuesday afternoon and explain to the lady I simply can't pick up my Mom (which is also where I'm suppose to submit an obit) and therefore I would like to come in to the newspaper place and submit an obit in person.  She seems very agitated with me and snips, "The funeral home has the program to do this online.  You'd have to open an account, and it would take 20 minutes or more, and you'd have to do it by noon to get it in the next days paper."

I reply exhausted, "I just want to submit her obit." 

Realizing I'm in a no-win situation and knowing I have to submit an obit soon for Mom's Celebration on Life on Sunday, I somehow manage to drive to the funeral home on Wednesday to pick up Mom.

A guy is there and also the lady who helped me Monday.  I do not know if the guy is the same one I spoke to on the phone Saturday or not.

He helps me with the obit, him and his dry tone and careless attitude.  I felt like I was a bother.

I told the lady it was tough to pick up my Mom and she replies, "I know."

Still no condolences.

REALLY?

Then I mention, "is it common practice for people to do obits?"

"Only if the family wants to."

She didn't see what I was getting at.  I should have been more clear.  Like, "Then why didn't you mention it to me on Monday??  I had no idea funeral homes had to submit obits."

She brought out Mom, I cried.  No hug, of course.  No words of encouragement.

I realize they do this day in and day out but really?  Isn't of obvious out of everyone we deal with after a death that the funeral home would show the most compassion? 

After paying for the obit (yep, it's cost by letter/word) I got in my car somehow with Mom and bawled my little eyes out.

I called my friend who had joined me on Monday because I needed to talk to someone.  I told her I picked up Mom and submitted her obit.  She says so sweetly, "which picture did you use?"

Huh?

What?

OMG, REALLY?

The funeral home didn't mention I could use a photo!  I know as I type this it makes total sense, but I am in shock about my Mom's death and barely surviving, so of course I hadn't thought of a photo. 

So, why the !#@$%^&! wouldn't the funeral home mention it to me??

Why couldn't they simply ask "have a photo, Honey?"

Really????

To say I am stunned and pissed is a an understatement.  I am shocked that I had to deal with such a crappy funeral home experience.

Yes, they did their job - cremated Mom.  But I would rather be telling you how they took care of me and Mom, and were comforting in my time in need.  Instead, I had a horrible experience.

So badly, I'm going to share with you the name of the funeral home, because I don't want anyone else to go through this unprofessionalism during a rough time.

Alpine Funeral Home on Sylvania Avenue in Fort Worth, Texas.

Only Child or Siblings?

Being an only child has its benefits. You always get a car first, you don't get hand me downs, you don't hear "your brother/sister never did that when they were young," and more importantly, you get spoiled.

There's no other siblings to fight for affection and you come first. You also never have to worry about favorites.  (I have heard one of the worst things about having siblings is when you have thought your whole life that for some reason another was "the favorite." )

I'm sure there are benefits to having siblings. I don't have any siblings, but I bet they had fun playing games with each other (I never had a board game opponent), and they could go shopping together and share items. They could also offer advice to their younger siblings and also have someone look after them at school when they got in trouble.

When us "children" get older, it means our parents get older. It means we have choices to make at difficult times. It means when they get ill, you have to make decisions. Whatever the decision is, it's not easy.

One of my coworkers told me I was lucky to be an only child. I was surprised he would say that. But he said when it was time to make the "decision" about his Dad, the siblings did not agree and it caused a huge emotional fight and caused rifts that may never be sealed back. He said I was lucky that it was just me who had to make decisions about my Mom.

Really?

Come sit with me in the hospital by myself. Come spend countless hours being the only one here. There are no "taking shifts," like siblings share. There is no one else. There is no one to hug, no one to lean on.

Really? I'm lucky?

I do understand what he meant. He meant that I have no one to argue with about decisions; about what is best for my Mom. He meant that he has clashed so many times with his siblings during important life decisions, it's caused immense pain and emotional suffering between them. He meant that when they couldn't agree what to do on his Dad's final days, it was brutal.

However, one way to resolve this is to find out ahead of time what the final wishes are for your parents. What do they want? Haven't talked about it with them? Maybe your parents know, but haven't told you. Maybe they don't realize how old they really are, and YOU need to bring it up (for the betterment of your entire family).

However, don't congratulate me for being an only child.

The one thing I can say that I do NOT have to deal with is sibling animosity. I have seen this a lot through simple comments from friends and coworkers. Usually one sibling always sticks near the nest. The other siblings move away. For whatever reason this seems to happen. And even if one or more do no stay near the nest, when the parents get old enough, the parents have to move near to one of the siblings (usually near the sibling who could help them most).

Don't get me wrong - I haven't found a parent yet that WANTS help from their child or who WANTS their child to care for them or help them every day. It's a very difficult thing for anyone to accept they are too old and need help.

My point is, though - the close siblings who take care of the parents get frustrated, exhausted, tired, stressed, and...... resentful. They resent their other siblings who are far away and not dealing with the day to day health problems and issues and concerns. They see you come visit, but get to leave. They see you come visit and then try to offer advice. Really? Where have YOU been?

To be a caretaker causes one to be emotionally overextended and exhausted with both physical fatigue and a sense of feeling psychologically and emotionally drained. So, the caretaker gets jealous and resentful they have to feel like that all the time.

Even a few of my friends used to tell me, "I can't handle being there."

Wow, really?

Because your siblings have no choice. Ever think of that?

That's one of the major things I can say I enjoy about being an only child - I have no resentment over or against anyone. I feel it's my right and duty to be my Mom's caretaker. She took care of me, I take care of her.

Do I feel extremely desolate because I'm all alone handling everything?  Sure, who wouldn't.  Do I cry uncontrollably because I have no one to hug and no one here for me?  Of course.  But I don't feel bad for myself that I'm in this position to be able to help the woman who created me and brought me up. I love her with all my heart.

And I wish today more than anything she was out of this hospital and back in her own bed at our house watching her favorite shows on tv.

Living Room Mini Make-Over

My Before and After living room.  From drab to fab.  I'm proud of my little mini make over because I hardly ever do things like this, so I thought I would share.  :)

BEFORE (above) - the missing saddle chair, now seen below:

AFTER (above) new saddle chair.  I think it adds quite nicely.

BEFORE (above) - Blah pictures on the wall, no colors except brown and tan.

After - blue pillows on couch and chair, blue accessories on table next to TV, and a cute blue table next to the couch.  And two new pics with some blue in them!

Close up of the blue accessories, blue pic, and blue pillows on the antique chair. 

BEFORE - kinda drab.  Not ugly, just drab.

AFTER - Much much prettier, imo.  The blue and brown and different shades of each really make the room so much pleasant on the eyes.

BEFORE (above) - Very pretty mantel and pieces on it, but with the blue pieces added (see below,) it really brightens up the area! 

 

AFTER - You can't really tell in the pic (unless you click to enlarge) but the glass vases have blue potpourri in them.  And the VERY pretty small blue bird really stands out.  The blue flowers in the vase are nice, but that can be even better (will do that when I find better flowers).

Selfishness

Being selfish is a tough road to travel on.

Although I am selfish, I would still do anything for my loved ones.  I actually think of them first whenever I decide to do something, or when I'm at the store and see things they may want. 

(hmm... maybe I'm not that selfish after all?)

However, because I'm selfish, this means when someone doesn't think of me in certain situations, it affects me more.  Twisted thing, huh?  A weird catch 22.

But more so, it hurts when a loved is a certain kind of selfish.  I put them first, but yet I don't even rank high on their list.  I don't even cross their mind when (to me) it's obvious I should at certain times.

I admit that no one can know what selfish acts hurt me.  I admit it's my own mind (and heart) deciding what selfish acts hurt the most.  Others may not even be thinking their actions are selfish.

But it hurts when my world revolves around them and yet they barely even think of me and my needs. 

This hurts deep;  deep to the core.

It hurts deep enough to make me cry myself to sleep at night.

I try to rationalize - Do I just give too much?  Are my expectations too high?  What?

If my loved ones don't think of me or put me first, it can bother me, yea. But it's when I see the times it's so obvious I should have been considered or included that hurt the most. Those are the times it hurts my heart. 

I guess because no matter how selfish I am, I would still never do those type of things.

Although my loved ones are selfish, I can relate to their selfish actions because I too am selfish.  I don't judge them or get upset at them.  I understand, because I can be the same way.  Selfish people understand when others do certain daily selfish things. 

But I canNOT relate to hurting others so deeply when they make certain selfish choices. 

I guess we all have our own thermometer.

What level of selfishness can we handle?

I know mine -

• when I personally feel I was neglected, or
• not thought of during certain decisions they made, or 
• when they choose to do something that I should have been included, or 
• not considered when it's so obvious I should have been

...those are my gauges.  

Those are the ones that hurt the most.

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.

Would You Want to be You?

I love Denis Waitley's the Psychology of Winning audio tapes. But I fully admit the first 2-3 disks are my favorite so I hardly listen to the full 6 disks.

So, I found myself walking along my neighborhood last night for exercise and de-stressing (going on week 3, VERY excited for myself!) and was listening to disk 4 and heard a profound thing I don't recall from before.  The first 2-3 disks I could prolly recite to you, but this seemed new to me because I don't get through all 6 disks every year.  And it was fabulous! 

If I can recall well for you, basically, Denis Waitley asks if you were your wife, husband, best friend, daughter, boss, employee, etc., would you like yourself?  For example, would you be happy with you as your boss?

If not, obviously his advice is to change that.

But it got me thinking.  Would I like me as a girlfriend?  Would I like me as a friend?

Looking honestly:

I would really like me as a friend.  I'm supportive, there for my friends, and would do anything for them. They can also confide in me.  Further, I try to have a good time in life and take them with me on the ride!

I would really like me as a coworker.  I work well with others, get projects done, implement tough tasks, meet deadlines, and am considered one of the go-to people in my office.

I would also really like me as an employee.  My boss can count on me and I'm not only productive but a good employee who shows respect and truly cares for my duties and my customers.

That leaves two areas:  daughter and girlfriend.

While I have some great attributes to these relationships (I'm giving and responsible), I shyly and unfortunately admit I could be a better girlfriend and daughter.

I could try harder to be more understanding when I get over-emotional with my guy, and I could try to spend more quality time with my Mom.

I take care of both my b/f and Mom in certain ways, but I could take care of the relationship with them better. 

Are you a good you?  Would you want you to be your wife/husband/girlfriend/boss/friend/employee?

I think this is a very profound question.  I love it!  One that makes you look at yourself honestly. 

So, would you want to be you in your relationship with others?

Why Bad Things Happen

I am a true believer that everything in life that happens to us, is for a very specific reason.  You know the inspiration: "Everything happens for a reason."  I wholeheartedly live by that sentence.  We may not know for many months or years why something so bad could happen to us, but when that one day arrives and we see the true meaning behind it, we become in awe and even smile to ourselves to realize "I made it through that time just for this!"

Learning from all of life's events (good or bad), I feel, is the key to being a stronger person every day.  But I think the other important key is that when negative life events occur, we are then prepared to help others who go through similar events.

Learning from Experiences and Becoming a Stronger Person:

After misfortunes, it takes time to accept what happened and then after the grief and sadness and shock is over, at some point, you realize you are stronger.  It's not that you wake up one day and say "Hey, I feel so much stronger today!"

No, it's not like that.

Instead, you will simply notice when you have a tough day that you are able to get through it okay.  You have the strength to get through it.

We Can Help Others:

I have had some major negative things happen in my life.  I don't go around telling everyone about them for sympathy, nor do I use the misfortunes and sufferings as crutches or excuses. But, I will share my experience if I think it will help others (that's why I'm writing this blog entry, in fact).

The real beauty, yes, I said BEAUTY, about misfortunes and sufferings is after we have been through difficult times, when we see a friend or loved one or even acquaintance who experiences the same misfortune (or very similar), we can relate and share our true sympathies and offer advice because we have already been through it.

• We can relate to the tears and heartbreak. 
• We can try to offer advice, but advice isn't the only thing we can offer. We can offer support - because we both have been through the same thing. 
• You can understand more than anyone how difficult it is for them.
• You are one of the few people who can truly, truly emphasize with them.
• You are proof they will be okay.
• Your connection to their misfortune allows you both to heal together.
• You offer sound advice because you have already been through it.

Don't feel sorry for me if I tell you about a suffering I've had.  I share my past because it's a part of who I am today.  I am a strong woman today because of all that I have been through. And I share my past because I want to help. 

When I tell you I would sleep on the floor in our kitchen as child because in the South the heat and humidity was horrendous and we didn't have air conditioning and the floor was the coolest place in the house against my skin, yet roaches were flying around at night, I'm only sharing with you I have come a long way.

If I mention I found my Dad passed away unexpectedly at the house one early morning, don't feel bad for me.  While I obviously wish he never passed away, a year later my dear friend Heather found her Mom passed away.  I was able to listen with an open heart and understand completely what she went through that long, very sad day because I could relate more than anyone.  I understood how she frantically held her Mom in her arms; the raw emotions of finding a loved one like that; the horrid endless hours it took for the coroner to show up; dealing with the police; ongoing nightmares about that day, etc.  I truly believe that finding my Dad passed away was so I could be there for Heather.

If I mention I am my Mom's caretaker, the ones who genuinely understand how tough it is, I know they have been a caretaker themselves.

They can relate.

And they offer advice.

The tough times my friends Kathy and Sharon went through taking care of their Mom's for years led them to offer inspiring advice that helped me immensely.  Only people who have been caretakers can offer important advice that I admit I never would have thought of on my own, or even contemplated.

Being a caretaker makes one forget themselves.  And I would feel super guilty doing anything for myself!  :(  Sharon convinced me I HAD to to some things for myself. If I didn't take care of me, I wouldn't be able to take care of my Mom.

So, don't let hardships bring you down.  Hardships make you a stronger person and will allow you the ultimate gift - to be there for someone else in the future.

Non Friendship

It's okay not to be friends.

Really, it is.

About 17 years ago, I was dealing with a woman who over reacted about my actions toward her.  She took it extremely personal that I didn't say hi to her one night.  She had done nothing wrong, I just had a bad night and don't run around to ensure I say hi to everyone all the time, esp to acquaintances.

When she confronted me about it on the phone, she hung up on me and would never accept my calls again.  I was livid!  I was hurt and extremely upset that I couldn't explain myself to her.  And most importantly, I was deeply hurt and confused because she no longer liked me.

I discussed this with a good friend of mine and she helped me get through it.  June was kinda my mentor in my 20s and helped me through a lot of mental stress I caused myself. 

In this situation, she helped me see that it's okay that not everyone liked me.  Back then, my self esteem was super low and so it affected me deeply why this woman (who overreacted, ironically) didn't like me anymore.  It took a few talks, but June convinced me I was a great person and if this other woman didn't like me, it was HER loss.  Further, not everyone is going to like us.  And guess what?  That's okay.

Once you accept that, life gets a little easier because you don't take things so personal.

I have a few friends right now that I no longer talk to.  One has sent me crappy, rude emails because he can't accept we aren't friends anymore.  I am happy he isn't in my life.  He is rude, puts business before friendship, and treats "friends" with disrespect, and yet he doesn't even know it.

Do I feel bad we aren't friends and he no longer likes me?  No. I think it's like purging bad karma, to be honest.

My only issue I have is I can't be honest with the WHYs of ending relationships.  I don't have the backbone, heart, strength to explain why I can no longer be around some people.  And I feel guilty for it.  Esp to the people I cared about and who I was good friends with before.

Asking Why

The WHY Word is a complex word for me.

If I question someones' actions, it usually means I am second guessing myself and worrying too much.  If I don't wonder WHY, I tend to have much clearer days, a stronger mental attitude, and more confidence in myself.  Asking yourself WHY someone did something can actually drive you (especially women) insane.

Here are some examples:

I used to question what my bosses were discussing behind closed doors.  "What's going?  What did I do wrong?  WHY is he in there with him?  WHY is the door closed?"

It would drive me crazy wondering if I did something unsatisfactory, or if my words from earlier came out so askew they had to discuss it.  WHY are the in there?  Obviously, I was VERY insecure about myself at this time.

Once I figured out to stop asking WHY, I no longer drove myself crazy with those insecure thoughts about their meetings (and btw, only 1% of the time were the discussions about me).

Another example is when you question why someone just did "that." And it makes it worse when it's about someone you care about.

WHY did they just ask me that question?  WHY didn't they think of me and get me a drink when they ordered themselves a drink?  WHY did they say it in that tone to me?  WHY did they do just that?  I need some comfort - WHY don't they say something nice to me right now?  WHY did they just say that to that girl (guy)?  WHY did they not give me a tighter hug? 

WHY.....

Asking WHY to these situations can drive one crazy which will then cause a downward spiral of you becoming more insecure, in addition to second guessing their feelings toward you.  When in reality, it's not personal.  People don't normally deliberately go around hurting others or deliberately not thinking of you.  Hardly anyone means to hurt your feelings.  Yes, we wish that wouldn't happen, but it's OUR own questioning that causes the angst and our own impression of how we are taking their actions or non actions that really causes the concern internally that hurts our feelings.  Remember - it's our own interpretation that causes our reaction/emotion.

More reminders:

• No matter what has been said to you, you ALWAYS have a choice on how you react to those words.
• "Everything hinges on how you look at things."  
• People never become defensive about what you're saying.  People become defensive because of why they think you're saying it.
  
• Don't take others actions' personal.

Obviously, if they explained more or were unselfish, it would help us care for them even more to feel loved/more confident about the relationship, but that's simply not the case all the time.

And to question others actions you barely know, can also cause one to worry unnecessarily.  Again, wondering, "WHY aren't they saying hi?" or "WHY are they acting that way toward me?" can lead to needless worry. Most people don't even realize their actions are causing pain to another. 

The WHY question can cause a woman to go insane, I swear.  lol.

However, sometimes WHY is a good thing, as I found out a few weeks ago.

I was visiting one of my favorite people where she bartended and as I sat there chatting with her, she told another patron, "I just love this woman, she's awesome."

Instead of Mr Barstool saying, "That's awesome to hear," he asked, "Why is that?"

Then she proceeded to explain to him why she thought I was special and that our friendship has helped her out.

As I sat there and blushed, I recognized that most people don't ask WHY in those situations.  Usually they just make a comforting gesture of acknowledgment.  But asking WHY in this scenario gave her the opportunity to express more, gave me the opportunity to hear details about how she felt about me, and also gave him more information about her initial comment.  He gained an insight that normally most people would never hear, all because he asked WHY at that key juncture.

It was truly an enlightening moment for me.

However, be weary of the WHY questions that can cause insecureness, self-questioning, and unconfidence.

Stay far, far away from those WHYs.  lol.

"I Believe" Intro and I Believe #1

I received one of those crazy chain emails the other day from a sweet friend.  The thing is, this one I read and didn't delete because it was nice and thought provoking.

It is a list called "I BELIEVE FACTS OF LIFE."

I will list each one in separate blog, mostly because there are 24 of them and I can't possibly comment on all of them in one exponential post!

Here is #1:

I Believe... 
That just because two people argue, 
It doesn't mean they don't love each other.
And just because they don't argue,
It doesn't mean they do love each other.

When I argue with a b/f I completely admit I think we are falling apart.  Well, more fundamentally, I feel like every argument is me pushing them away.  Yes, I usually start the arguments.

Recently, my b/f told me to stop being so insecure about our relationship.  I have really heard his words.  And lately I have had more confidence.

If I argued with my Mom and Dad, I always knew they still loved me, tho. Even with my ex husband, I knew he still loved me after an argument.  With b/f's, though, I get nervous for some reason.  Maybe it's because it's easier to break up than divorce, lol.

I remember when I was in middle school, I thought an argument meant we were broke up.  The first time it happened, the guy had to tell me, "it was just a fight, we are still together."  "Cool," I thought to myself.

I wonder where I got that from!?  Wherever I got it from.... it must be why arguments make me so nervous. 

Feeling Special

I have learned over the years (yes, I'm old enough to say that) that you cannot depend on others to make you happy.  YOU are the only person who can make YOU happy.

If you need a significant other to make you happy, then I can guess you aren't very happy, huh?

I have learned this through years of advice by my friends (that I finally) listened to, AND because I finally figured it out on my own.

And what's weird about this, I am one of the lucky ones who is very happy with themselves, with their life, with everyone and everything in it.

Even through trials and tribulations, I learn from them (luckily), and I recognize that they make me stronger.  I don't let unfortunate happenings turn me into a sad, depressed, mean person.  Yes, I still experience the bad, sad, negative feelings, but I am not one to dwell on them forever and instead I move forward when it's time.

What I have recently learned though, is being happy and feeling special, unfortunately, fall into the same category. 

I have wanted to feel special my whole life.  When I want to feel special on certain days, it doesn't always happen.  The disappointment is painful.  It truly pains my heart of the times that *I* think I deserve to feel special.

Yes, I said "deserves."

The thing is, I am a special person.  I truly believe I am special.  And at unexpected times in my life, others have made me feel extremely special and surprised! 

When surprised, that sense of feeling special is exasperated a million times!  Those are the situations and events I have always cherished.

But alas, on occasions that mean a lot to me, I wish others would do special things for me. 

As one of my friends told me recently, "you expect others to do the same for you as you do for them.  Therefore, you are letting your expectations get the best of you."

She has a very valid point.

And then when I expect things and they don't happen, I get super hurt.

What I have to also realize is, that I get treated special all year round.  I really do by my friends and family.  It would be horrible if I was only treated special on special days, right?  I wish I could instill this in my brain!!

Why?

Because. 

Still.  The expectations hurt. 

And I need to get over this.  And I need to treat "special" like "happiness."  I learned before that *I* need to be happy with myself first, otherwise I can't be happy with anyone.  I need to treat "special" the same way, huh?  Is that how I get over this?

I am happy.  I feel special. 

Hmm... is it that easy? 

Nah, I still want to feel special on certain days. 

But... I will try to remember only *I* can truly make myself feel special, just like happiness.

Cross your fingers for me!

Frazil Ice

Pretty Amazing!!