Remembering Others

I watched the movie Coco the other day on a flight.  It's a really cute movie about a boy stuck in the Land of the Dead.  It's a cartoon, so don't fret - it's still very cute and great for kids.

At one point in the movie, "Miguel (main character) encounters Héctor, a down-on-his-luck skeleton who once played music with Ernesto (the guy Miguel is trying to talk to). Héctor offers to help Miguel reach Ernesto; in return, he asks Miguel to take his photo back to the Land of the Living, so that he might visit his daughter before she forgets him and he disappears completely."

The part of the movie that made me sad is the very last part:  before she forgets him.

The Day of the Dead (what the movie also revolves around) is a Mexican holiday celebrated by people of Mexican ancestry. It is acknowledged internationally in many other cultures. The multi-day holiday focuses on gatherings of family and friends to pray for and remember friends and family members who have died, and help support their spiritual journey.

I don't even care about myself, honestly.  If I die tomorrow and no one remembers me within a few years, I'm okay with that.  But what I'm NOT okay with is people forgetting about my Mom.  The main reason I would love for friends to think about me on Mother's Day is because my Mom was so very special to me and she DESERVES to be remembered.

And now that my friend Dave has passed, what happens to his memory?  I don't want him forgotten either.

I think as we get older, this crosses our minds.  I mean, I know that there are millions of people we know nothing about who had no impact on history.  So, it's not just my Mom and Dave who eventually wont be remembered.  But boy, even typing that sentence out caused physical heart pains. 

After I'm gone, who will talk of my Mom?  I suppose anyone who happens to run across my blog will know of Toni Bailey (if this blog just magically stays up years after my passing).  But it saddens me to realize that some day I wont be around to help her be remembered.    

WTF.

Don't Get Complacent

I went to Silver Spring, MD for work last week.  That is where our headquarters is for my job, so I've been there about 15-20 times I think?  I mostly go for meetings.

The last few years I have been doing more outdoor things.  When I visit places, I find parks or beaches or gardens to walk at.  Now, I didn't do this before tho.  So, all those times I traveled to Silver Spring, MD, I never ventured anywhere but between the meeting room and my hotel.

One of my friends asked me, "You going to walk in a park while you're there?"

Uh, what?

It hadn't even OCCURRED to me at all to walk in a park or to look to see if there were any close by to take advantage of!

So, I did a little digging before I went and saw a cool, large park about 2 miles or so away.  Then I found a place that had 13 miles of formal gardens!  It's called the "Hillwood Estate, Museum and Gardens."  I was SO excited!  But alas, the hours were 10am to 5pm, right in the middle of my meeting all week.

But, I have decided that next time I go to Silver Spring for a meeting, I will work my flight so that I can arrive a little earlier than I'm used to to go check it out!

I didn't get to the park due to long days and not feeling well due to a tooth issue, but I am so thankful my friend Tina asked me that awesome question.  I don't know why it hadn't crossed my mind to see what parks were close.  Just because I couldn't SEE parks all the times I went to Silver Spring, didn't mean they didn't have any great ones to explore.  Before, I focused more on getting back to my hotel room as soon as possible to get out of downtown Silver Spring. 

Next time, watch out!  The entire green area below is all a PARK!

Missing Someone At the Same Time?

If two people made an impact to each other as their paths crossed, is there a chance they miss each other at the same time, unbeknownst to each other?

I wonder if that's even possible.  Seems far-fetched, but maybe not....the heart is a miracle in itself.

Peacefulness in Death

Right after my friend Dave passed away in hospice on May 7th, I walked down the hallway bawling, barely able to walk, looking for a nurse.  A lady I had never seen before walked slowly towards me at the nurses station - she was unassuming, with pretty short golden hair and nice glasses.  She saw me crying, alone, and in need of a friend, and she said, "I'm a volunteer, would you like a hug?"

I grabbed her without thinking and hugged her, crying on her shoulder. She was at the right spot and perfect time when I needed someone to literally lean on.

When I'm nervous or scared, I ask questions or try and say something funny.  I had heard throughout the week, while I stayed with Dave in hospice, that after a loved one passes away, that several family members become volunteers to help out because they and their family were taken care of so well there; they like to give back.

So, when I was finally able to lean away from hugging her and could finally stop from hyperventilating, I decided to transition the focus of my sobbing to her to help my nerves.  I asked her gently, "So, I heard volunteers help out after they have lost a loved one. Who passed?"

She said, "Well I had a couple of loved ones pass, but not here."

I looked at her confused, wiping tears from my cheeks.  "What do you mean?"

She paused and confided, almost in a whisper, "I was the one who passed away."

I was like, uh, but you're right here.  

She explained cautiously, "I don't normally share with this with many people, but I strongly feel like I was meant to be here today for you.  I had brain surgery a few years ago and I died during the surgery."

Being the person I am, I asked, "OMG, did you see the light?!"

She shared, "Well, sorta.  What I saw was my family.  And friends.  And I felt so much peace when I died.  That's why I volunteer here at hospice, to try and assure family members that their loved ones are at peace when they pass and everything will be okay and you will see them again."

I was STUNNED.  I told her (tears started to flow again) that yep, I, too, now felt she was meant to be there, to help me out in a time of need. 

I could not believe the story she told me.  I had heard something similar from someone else before who also had died and came back, who experienced the peacefulness when dying.  But I had not even thought about it at all because Dave had literally just passed away and my mind was reeling, my heart was breaking, and I was a complete mess.

Marylyn normally doesn't volunteer on Mondays.  She goes on Fridays.  This day was a Monday.  There were so many signs that she was meant to be there on that day because I needed a friend in a desperate time.  What she said to me was at the perfect time; and a great reminder about life, death, and peace.

She stayed with me for the next hour while I called friends about Dave.  I wouldn't go back into his room, so she stood by my side in the large, warm, welcoming, hallway, held my hand, wiped away tears, even handed me a poem she had written - she had just a single one left over, ironically.  

I can't begin to express how important it was for me to see her that day and hear that story right after Dave passed.  And I think it's important to share this with others, too.

Bring Back the Peace!

Sometimes in life we lose our focus.

If we are lucky, we get reminded what our focus used to be or what we want/need it to be.

I have changed over the last few years.  Wanted peace.  But going through life things, I forgot that's what makes me the most happy.

My friend Robin mentioned this quote, "Seek peace and pursue it."

She said sometimes she needs to pretend like she has blinders on, so we aren't distracted by things that are negative, bring us down, derail our peace, etc.

It was a great reminder.

I definitely had lost my focus.  It was okay.... because I was doing things for others, but I am most happy when striving for and keeping peace on the forefront.  And for some reason, I forgot that.

I feel a tad embarrassed about that, but in reality, I was depressed and stressed, and those things can distract us from what makes us happy any way.

Just glad for the reminder so I can start to focus back on PEACE. Hopefully that will help me from grieving too badly over Dave, too.

Being Prepared, As Much As We Can Be

I wrote back in early March that my friend was dying.  At the time no one had any idea when his time to head to Heaven would come, but it is more imminent now.

He is on Hospice.  Not IN hospice.  But hospice is now coming to his apartment and trying to help him out with meds and checking in on him.

He is falling more.  His memory is real bad.  His eyesight and hearing are going.  He still drives (although that may not be the case soon) - he even went to a movie last night.  We talk every day.  Talking to him and seeing him, one would not even remotely think he's so sick.

But the Hospice nurse told me he has about a month. Dave thinks maybe a month or two left.  Several people who have knowledge of brain cancer say when the time comes, it will be a very fast process.

I became his Medical Power of Attorney today.  We signed the papers in front of a notary and his friend Wes is the alternate.

Dave still acts like Dave, just slower and a bit confused.  He is ready to try experimental drugs on his brain cancer.  As he told me today, "Of course I want to try - cancer has killed too many people."

We wont know til next week if that option is even an option.

I have no worries at the moment.  I feel he is in God's hands.  And those ON Earth have prepared to help him.  He even got baptized last Sunday.  He has been attending church with Wes and Wes'  family.

To know the end is near is not something I can comprehend for him, though.  I can't begin to imagine what he's gong through - to know and be aware you are dying, how does one handle that??  I'd personally want to spend my last days somehow fishing while drunk or drugged up - doing something outdoors yet trying to alter my mind so I didn't think about what was about to happen to me.

I admire Dave's strength.  He's become my best friend over the last two years.  He's been so strong for so long.

One of my friends, Courtney told me, "I am very sorry to hear this about Dave. But you know what....Dave got to experience something a lot of people may never experience.  He had an angel on Earth looking out for him......you are truly wonderful for everything that you do for people. Your heart is very beautiful."

Her words made me cry.  Deeply.  But, I am just blessed to even be in a position to be able to help Dave.  That's how I look at it.

What started out as simply raising money for him, has led to where we are today:  I'm his voice for when he can't speak; I'm his advocate; I'm his friend.  Everything happens for a reason and I sure do love that this has worked out for Dave to have help/support from Wes, me, nurses, doctors, etc.   

As weird as it sounds, I feel experienced and ready.  I did this for my Dad, for my Mom, and now Dave.  I know for a fact had I not been there for my parents and been through all that comes with death, I wouldn't be ready for what is about to come and for the decisions I'm about to have to make for Dave.

But, I am prepared.  Dave is prepared.  God is ready, too.

That Male Neighbor

When I was a kid, maybe around 11 years old, I was helping a male neighbor with some yard work in his front yard. I grew up in San Antonio as an only child and the weather was nice most of the year to be outdoors and so I'm sure I was out playing outside and then started to help him with something. I don't recall what. And that's not the point of this story anyway.

I don't remember his name, don't even remember him all that much except for this one particular incident.

Of course, I was just a child back then and don't recall exactly the man's age (prolly in his late 30s or early 40s?), his name, if he had a family, not much at all. I don't think he had kids, though. Can't recall a wife or not. I just remember this white guy and this certain day.  Other than this certain day, I have no other recollection of him, honestly.

So, I'm this little naïve girl helping him with something in the yard and I think he said he was going indoors (maybe for a snack or lunch?) and I asked him if I could go in too.

He replied words that I didn't comprehend as a child, and didn't really think of till years and years later after I moved away from home. Actually, it's not something that crosses my mind often, although it prolly should.

He told me something along the lines of, "You are a little girl and I'm a grown man. It's not proper for you to be alone in a house with a male that you barely know."

I had no clue what he really meant. I wasn't even remotely old enough to understand the true depth of his words, I just said, "okay' and trotted back to my house to play in my yard. I had no clue how impactful his words and advice really were.

As I reflect back, WOW how amazing and smart this guy was for me/him. He barely knew me. I barely new him. I was just this little girl who played outside a lot.

Eventually a family would move in later who became very quiet and I never really saw outdoors. I recall them living in that same house for all my teen years.

I was lucky that that man didn't take advantage of the situation or me. I am very blessed he was cognizant of what that situation could even look like for us.

It was a split second moment in time for me/him. I didn't understand or grasp what he said at the time, but now I recognize how powerful his words were way back then. I hope that moment had crossed his mind as well. He should be thanked, and he should feel good about himself for handling that situation like he did.

One of the reasons this hits home with me, is this was over 35 years ago. Who was thinking that way back near 1980? Back then we were all so much more trusting. Hitchhiking with no worries, trusting almost anyone, etc. Even as I started this blog post, many reading it in today's world may have thought I was going to share a traumatic story, instead of this bright path, right?

To fathom the depth of the maturity of him and that situation is pretty cool.

I'm Scared of Monkeys

I think we all have something we are scared of.  Maybe for you it's heights, snakes, midgets, dogs, or spiders, etc.  My "frightener" is monkeys.

I don't think they are cute, and I don't want to be around them, and I don't have an appreciation for them.  Esp the small ones - they are the scariest to me!

I have a friend who was bit by a dog when she was little and she is literally petrified of dogs who roam free and come anywhere near her.  PETRIFIED.

Well, I'm not really petrified of monkeys, mostly because they don't roam free.  But, I def don't like them and I def don't see them as cute.

When I was little girl at the San Antonio zoo, I climb my cute butt over the fence to grab a few pieces of the food for the monkeys that were on the cement between their cage and some bushes.  The bushes were meant as a guard so we couldn't touch or reach their cages.  Well, I realize that now lol.  But as a small child, I didn't have any change to buy their food from the gumball-looking contraption and instead I saw the food over there on the ground for free.  Hey, I was a child, don't judge!  lol.

As I slipped from the eyes of my Mom, and climbed that fence (it was a short and metal fence, but sturdy), I got by the bushes, picked up the quarter-sized snack and BAM!  A dang monkey grabbed my arm hard!  I swung my head around to see what was grabbing me and omg I was terrified!  Our eyes were fixated on each other and I jerked back as hard as I could to try and break free from this killing creature.  After what seemed like 5 minutes, I was finally able to escape his grasp!  I then jumped back over the fence like I was an Olympic hurdler in first place.  I was scared, shaking, heart racing, wait - petrified!

I have never forgotten that day.  And so of course now I don't think monkeys are cute... at all.

Dang, I was just trying to gather food for them - to give back to them. 

Since then, when I go to zoos I barely look at the killers, I mean monkeys.  Gorillas are okay, orangutans are fine and even a little funny.  I'll check them out.  But their ancestors, the crazy-ass monkeys.  Not interested.  I'm still SCARED!

Becoming a Friend

My friend is dying.

We don't know when he will pass or any timeline, but he went from being cancer free from esophageal cancer/surgery, to tumors in his brain in a 9 month period.

Don't get me wrong, he's not in hospice or anything.  He drives himself to Walmart or to his doc appointments, picks up his favorite ice cream or soup, so he's not on a physical deathbed.  But he's on a mental deathbed.

What started out as me helping raise money for him, has led to good a friendship.  He calls me his guardian angel.  He tells me I improved his quality of life.  And all I've really done is be there for him in the hospital (everyone needs an advocate), been a listening ear to his thoughts (whether daily routine thoughts or worrisome thoughts), and a few times I have paid a phone bill or did his laundry when he was too exhausted to get to the laundry mat.  I am the first person he calls if he has been admitted to the hospital.  I am his friend.  And he is dying.

I am not the only friend who helps him.  Two of his friends, Wes and Courtney, have also been there for him many, many times as well.  Dave calls us the "Dream Team."

He tells me all the time, "I've lived a great life, Melinda."  And he firmly believes it.  Which I admire.

He sometimes makes jokes about dying, but I can imagine he sits in his efficiency apartment and doesn't joke to himself about it.

Dave used to live out of his car for about 10 years.  Some would call that being homeless, but he didn't label it - he just saw it as his life for the last 10 years.  Being in the hospital with cancer in 2017, led to social workers helping him find a place to live, and also led them to help him sign up for a small social security check every month.  He hasn't had a regular income in YEARS.  His only income the last 10 years was from playing pool either in tournaments or gambling.

But he's still lived a great life.  Has lived in Ohio and Texas and Florida.  He worked for the railroad company for about 10 years in the 70s before he realized he could make a ton more money playing pool.  He's been all around, knows a ton of people, seen a lot.

And my friend is dying.

Again, no way to know when the end will come (well, for anyone, right?), could be one year from now for him or could be 3 months.  Only God knows when he will call him up.

He says things like, "That movie Annihilation came out.  I was hoping I'd still be alive to see it and here I am."  Or, as we pick out two 12-packs of his favorite shakes, "Do I really need that many shakes?  I don't know if I'll be alive in 24 days."

He's not living like he's dying, though, which is a really good thing.  If he had more stamina, he'd play pool every day like usual; now he only plays every once in a while.  But he still goes to the movie theater, still checks out sales on clothes at JC Penny, runs his own errands, etc.  You'd never really know he has brain cancer unless you were told - he walks around like every normal person and takes care of himself.

I have told him I want to be by his side when he passes; I don't want him to be alone.  He said he would understand if it's too tough to watch him die, but the only hand he wants to be holding is mine.

I am honored to be this person for him.  HONORED.  It would be my privilege.

Sure, it will be tough.  But I truly believe since I was by my Mom's side when she passed, I will have the strength and knowledge to be there for Dave when his time comes.

My friend is dying.  Did I mention that?

Here we are back in July 2017 at a tournament I was running when he got in my photo when I was trying to take selfie lol:

The Effects of Not Having Children

This is a story about a woman who didn't want kids.  And the potential impact to others.

I grew up an only child.  Was never really around other kids, especially never around babies.

I was told my whole life that at some point my motherly instincts would kick in very loudly and I'd magically want to have kids.  Still waiting!  Never happened.  Not once.  Not even a smidgeon.  Is there really a loud boom?

So when I dated a guy in my 20s for 5 1/2 years, I knew the whole time I didn't want to have kids.  At the end of our relationship when we finally talked having kids (TIP - talk about it sooner!), I told him I didn't want to.  He was a tad upset wasting all that time with me.  But his other response was sweet: Yes, I  want to have kids, but I want to have kids with you.  Sweet or not, the boom still wasn't there.  At that I point, even with all the other issues we were having, we were done.

I couldn't give him what he wanted.  And he should go find a woman he loved who wanted kids as much as he did.

My next boyfriend I was with for 7 years.  We talked about kids much sooner.  I was very straight forward:  You want kids, don't date me.  I can't tell you if I will or wont want kids some day, but I can tell you right now I do not.  

I knew I couldn't tell the future, so I had to leave some smidgeon of an out if I did some day hear that boom to have kids.  

He responded very kindly:  I'd rather be with you and no kids, than not with you.  We eventually married, then divorced.  No kids.

My point of this jaunt down memory lane really isn't about me.  It's about these two guys.  One spent 5 1/2 year with me in his 20s, wasting his time with a woman who didn't want to have children.  The other spent 7 years of his life in his 30s being in the same non-boom boat with me.  

Both of these men today still do not have kids (even after 10-20 years).  

I wonder if I "stole" their prime years to meet someone who they could have had kids with? 

Now, I've stated before I have no regrets in life (still stand by that belief, as I believe everything happens for a reason).  If they each went on to meet a great woman and have kids, I'd feel quite different about these wonderments.  But neither did.  Each had a subsequent long term relationship after me, and each didn't have kids still.  One eventually married and "gained" a family with about 4 children and I just know he's on cloud nine!  But each of these men never had kids of their own.

Did I stop them from having kids after me?  Well, hardly.  Could they have found a great woman to have kids with?  I'm sure.

I guess just wasn't in the cards for them.  And no boom for me.  

I sense we are all very happy people still running around on earth, not disgruntled or depressed or suicidal we didn't have kids.  But, it's still pretty wild thoughts I thought of the other day and wanted to capture in words in my blog.   

Not Just An Ordinary Trip to the Store

I'm a firm believer in several things, including these two items:  Everything happens for a reason and sometimes I like my patience to be tested to see how I'll react.

Both of the beliefs came up today.

I posted this on my social media account just in June, let me just copy/paste it here:

I actually look forward to long lines, stuck in traffic, having situations happen that alter my plans for the day. Why? Because I like to see how positive I react to them lately! :) I like NOT getting upset or frustrated over stuff I can't control. I like being tested to see how far I've come to not get frustrated and ticked off over things that used to piss me off. I like being the one who smiles at the cashier and thanks them working, when everyone else in line is upset. I like realizing I'm okay with the crappy driver in front of me, and not let it ruin my day. I like that I don't overreact over bad customers at stores, or crappy people on the phone. It definitely makes for a less stressful day when I am less stressed. 

Today, this was tested.  I sneezed on the way to work.  So what, right?  I was then held up driving into the parking garage because some guy sat there for 5 minutes trying to get in.  He eventually backed up, but almost hit me, as I honked my horn to let him know I was still behind him waiting for his action, but not to where he'd hit me trying to get out of the way lol.

As I got out of my car in the parking garage, I noticed snot was on the front of my shirt from that cute sneeze earlier.  REALLY?  I have dinner plans tonight and was hopeful I could get it off with water. 

Walking directly to the bathroom, sure the snot came off (whew) but the napkin I used in the bathroom left little white specks on the top of my left boob on my shirt.  Will this be a great dinner conversation with Dr. Belfi?

I then saw a contentious email at work as I started to go through my inbox, but did not yet reply yet (leadership rule 101 - wait to reply when upset).

I then tried to activate a new phone I received.  I called Sprint three frustrating times with no successful activation.   I was finally told I need to go to a Sprint store.  Because I have dinner plans, I couldn't wait to go after work.  Further, I was instructed to call Dr. Belfi to let her know I was at her place to escort me to the dining room, so I needed my phone to be working before this 5pm dinner.

So, I hastily, with frustration, grabbed my purse, old phone, new phone, stained shirt, and went to the Sprint store.  I hit every light.  Well, of course!  I even had to wait at one point for some big truck to lower his load before he could move out of the way for us to pass.

At this point, I'm laughing as all these hiccups keep coming at me, but inside I am PISSED I'm having to go the Sprint store and take off from work to try and get my phone activated/working.

I had already told myself, "Well, at least there's a Chic Fil A nearby and I can grab that before heading back to work."

I also prepared and told myself to smile when I walked into the Sprint store.  Don't be mad, Melinda, just be nice.  Even though I'm pissed doesn't mean I need to take it out on the innocent guy trying to work today.  I even said a little prayer to God, asking for calmness (and for my phone to get fixed easily).

As I walked in all nice and calm, I smiled and explained my issues. He did some magic and the phone was activated in 5 minutes!  I could not believe it!  If I could have hugged the stranger, I would have!  But in this #metoo atmosphere, I just gave a happy handshake.

I was ecstatic!

I then drove to Chic Fil A.  As I'm trying to drive to the line for the drive thru, I see a guy in the middle of the VERY large parking lot with a cane.  He looked around, walked a little, stopped, and then looked around again, and then slowly walked past the back of my car.

I played with my newly, finally activated phone, made a nail apt, sent a test text to a coworker, ordered my food, paid, grabbed my food and started to drive from Chic Fil A.  And there was the blind man still.  He maybe got 10 feet from where I saw him before.  And he was still kinda looking, then walking a bit, then turning, then walking a bit then stopping.

As I watched this from my now-stopped my car, I thought about how I could help and what I could do.  Could I walk with him, direct him in a certain direction?  He was obviously lost and confused, and being blind was not helping.

I drove up next to him, asked him where he was trying to go.  "Wells Fargo, next to Chic Fil A," he said very matter of factly.

I turned around in my car seat and sure enough - there was Wells Fargo about half a mile away.  I thought about "our" options for only a few seconds, then told him, "Why don't you get in the car, I'll drive you over."

He found my car with his hands and used it as a guide til he reach all the way around my car to the passenger side door and got in.  He was very thankful for the ride and I asked him jokingly but kinda serious, "You're not a murderer are you?"  Realizing the question would have had bad timing if he was, lol, since he was now already in the car.

He had a backpack on, was an older black gentlemen in his mid 50s, dressed casually.  As he shortened his cane, he thanked me again for the help. 

I then drove him to Wells Fargo.  I asked him where he was coming from, "my house on Carroll street," he replies.  Oh dear, even though that's only a block or two away, how would he get home if he got lost coming here? 

I asked, "Are you gong to be able to make it home okay?"

"Oh yes, I walked here and back just last week."

I pulled in front of Wells Fargo and parked, told him we were there.  He asked, "are we right in front of Wells Fargo?" trying to get his barring.

"Oh, I'm going to help you in," I respond.

I walked to his side of the car, I grabbed his hand that wasn't holding the cane - "is this okay?" I asked.  He said, "It's easier if you lead me with my hand on your shoulder."

Ah, yes, I can envision people walking together like this, helping a blind friend.

I then walked him through the doors and described every turn or door or step and I lead him to the counter.

I then told him to have a good day and he thanked me again.

I knew as I was driving away that I was not meant to go to the Sprint store, I was meant to help this man find his way.

Everything happens for a reason.

Jealous of Drinkers?

I went to On The Border Tuesday night.

And it was a very different visit for me.

You see, this was one of several On The Borders (OTB) that I used to go to when I was drinking.  I'm talking down 4 large margaritas at a time type drinking, over dinner.  I haven't been to OTB but one other time in the last 14 months since I stopped drinking.

I still sat in the bar area - when one goes solo it's less comfortable to sit in the bar area because there are a ton of TVs to watch while you're sitting by your lonesome, lol.

As I sat there in my booth eating chips and salsa, waiting for my enchiladas, I was watching others in the bar area.  I am very perceptive anyway, so it wasn't out of the norm for me to pay attention.

What I noticed was how many people were at the bar who knew each other.  They would smile and raise their margaritas to each other from across the way, or raise their draft beer mug to say their hellos.  Further, every new person or couple that walked in to sit down already knew the bartenders.  "Hey, how you been?!"  And catch up real quick, while the bartender started to pour their "usual."

I think it was happy hour - and I figure they were routine drinkers that go in about that time.  

I used to be one of these people.  Not a "happy hour" person, but one who routinely went to certain restaurants to drink while eating at the bar, and so I would know all the bartenders and waitresses, too.  They became my friends.  Not acquaintances you'd see at your favorite restaurants.  I mean the type of friends you see so often you eventually swap cell numbers or add them on Facebook type of friends.  Yes, that was how often I'd go - the bartenders became my friends.

So, how did I feel this night?  Was I uncomfortable, or what?

One of the fears of sobriety is that you no longer have fun.  And I can tell you I used to have that fear as well and no it's not even remotely true at all lol.  And I have found that us sober people actually have more meaningful laughs - when we laugh it's not a reactionary type of laugh because one is drinking, it's a deep-down, feel it in your tummy type of laugh.  Difficult to describe.

Anyway, first off I had no desire to order a margarita at all.  That is pretty huge for me, since I used to drink here often and abundantly.  

Secondly, as I recall now from my previous sober visit to OTB in the summer, the food wasn't as good as I remembered, lol.  I guess alcohol kinda enhances the taste or something?  I used to only have a few nibbles of rice left on my empty plate while I ordered my 3rd/4th margarita.  These last two visits I barely finished my first of two enchiladas.  (alcohol really does make you more hungry, lol).

Thirldy, I wasn't jealous of the friendships or wished I was sitting at the bar among all the "friends."  You see, my bartender friends are still my friends!  They just aren't at this restaurant.  I still go to other restaurants, sit at the bar, and gab with my bartender friends.  We have just as much fun as the drinkers I saw Tuesday night, except of course I'm not spending as much money, remember every convo, and aren't drinking and driving.  There's those cool things :)

So, no I wasn't uncomfy at all, or wished I was drinking, or even jealous they were drinking.  My thoughts were on how I wished I'd of gone with my instinct to go to a different Mexican restaurant lol because of the taste of the food.  Oh, and taking fun photos for my social media accounts:

My enchiladas were smiling at me!

Thrifty... Yet Not

I found it intriguing when I debated on buying two six-packs of Diet Pepsi last night or not.

I really struggled with the decision - at this store that was convenient on my way home, the 6-pack was about $4.35.  At Walmart or Target, they sell for as low as $2.50 or $3.00.  The idea to spend almost twice a much caused my head to spin!  Do I really want to pay that much for that difference?

I had several things going against me:  I only had one can left of Diet Pepsi at home, and I wasn't going to be near neither a Walmart or a Target anytime in the next few days or even a week prolly.

So, do I fork over the almost $2.50 each for these two non-necessities or do I just buy one and hope I get to a Walmart or Target soon, or do I be defiant in not spending almost half of what I normally do and not get them at all??

It's amazing to me I struggled with the pain to spend an extra $3.70 for two six-packs of my favorite soda, when I had just left Ross Dress for Less and spent $40 without batting an eye, lol.

But I am frugal with some things.  I never use an ATM except at my bank - don't want to be charged those unnecessary fees!  I will use paper towels over and over until they look like a dirty shirt.  I go to Dollar Tree and make out like a bandit - full cart and only spend $20!  Yet, I will also eat at a high-end steak place (Ruth's Chris is my fave) or buy 10 packages of my favorite socks (just in case they stop making them).

So, what did I do?  I struggled standing at the checkout line trying to decide... and then I finally just gave in.... and bought both six-packs  :(  They got me...and my money.

A Park with Sights Makes Me Happiest

One thing I figured out on Saturday was:  just going to a park isn't what I love.  It has to be pretty!  It has to have pretty things for me to see and feel!

Oh, and I could use water to help my happiness thermometer.  Or I need walking trails with dirt and rocks, if there is no water around.  And blue skies help, too.

But if it's a paved walking path with no beautiful water in sight, I'm not really enjoying things.  I can do a paved path if it has hills, like the one I go to that used to be a golf course.  Then it's a great work out!

But to be walking on large boring flat sidewalk with no sights to look at it, is just not for me.

I want to see water.  Seeing a lake or stream or river simply takes my breathe away.  Makes me stop in my tracks to envy and awe all the blue colors.  Makes my heart race with happiness.  I smile to myself as I hear the water streaming around rocks or splashing against a shoreline.

Even if no water, as long as there are hills and/or pretty flowers and/or dirt and rocky trail, I am happy.

But a longed paved sidewalk with no view and no hills, is just not for me.  I try not to complain or be negative, so this isn't really me complaining, it's more to share I figured out what makes me heart happiest!

Even as I reflect about searching for walking/hiking trails, if I see no water on the google map near the park, I don't investigate it's location and quickly move on to the next potential spot.

I loathed going to a park when it was cloudy two weekends ago, but I still ended up enjoying it to my surprise because the dirt trail was rugged with climbing hills and a lake in the distant.  It's more beautiful with crystal clear skies, of course, but the dirt, rocks, hills and water made for a great walking day.  See:

But this...Nope, not for me:

This?  Yes:

Cowboy Santa

I volunteered in December at Cowboy Santa!  Located near the stockyards in Fort Worth, Cowboy Santa is amazing.

In the photo below, you can see the long line of families waiting for gifts from Santa... It was shocking to see.

I helped hand out free presents to families in need.  It was heart warming to help, and yet also heart breaking to see all the families in need.  But SO thankful this volunteer establishment is helping so many kids have a great Christmas every year!!

Entrepreneur at ANY Age

Entrepreneur at ANY age. 

How about 82?

And how about for safety and saving lives.

https://www.yahoo.com/news/first-time-ces-entrepreneur-age-234500150.html

You go, Carol!

Happiness is an Inside Job

As cliché as it sounds, Happiness really is an inside job.

A few times over the last 12 months I have heard that some people think they are affecting my happiness.  Or, they think I'm looking for happiness in them.  But it confuses me because only I can provide happiness to myself, no one else.

The key, of course, is inner peace. 

Finding inner peace leads to happiness. 

Sure, some things can make us feel happier, but usually external things lead to only temporary happiness.  It's internal peace that leads to the true source of happiness.

Obviously, this isn't easy to find inner peace or even live by it on a daily basis.  But what I do know is, happiness is an inside job.

So, if you are looking for happiness in others, try looking instead in the mirror.  Dig deep within yourself, instead.  Peace provides happiness.

Everyone Handles Depression Differently

I find it so intriguing how people differ how they handle depression.

One of my friends recently went through an unexpected break up.  She was posting on Facebook that she needed to get out of the house and be around friends.  I think she even went to Seattle for New Years, and has reached out and literally "announced" she needs to be around friends and do more with people because she's depressed.

I find it so strange, lol.

Another friend of mine goes through depression during the holidays and he seems to always reach out to me when he's depressed.  "I'm sure you aren't doing well either, but know you aren't alone."

Fascinating!

The reason with I am intrigued, fascinated and find these things strange is because when I am depressed my brain acts exactly opposite.  I don't reach out to anyone and those type of thoughts don't even cross my mind.  Not even a glancing blow!

After my friends find out I had been depressed, they tell me, "Um, you know you can call me when you are depressed."

And I look at them like they are crazy, because my mind is chemically not configured to even consider reaching out when I'm depressed.

Seriously.  Nothing like the even remotely crosses my mind.  I don't reach out to people and tell them, "hey, I'm depressed."  

I try to tell my friends that my brain seriously doesn't even consider any such options.  I just keep to myself until the depression finally lifts.  I can't control any of it, honestly.  I have found reading uplifting words of encouragement helps me, but otherwise, depression kind of controls any thinking process of what I should or could be doing differently than just being... well... depressed.

I have been clinically depressed at times and luckily they are few and far between, but any type of depression I go through just doesn't lead to me reaching out.

I don't like to be depressed because I don't think about anyone.  I mean, I don't think of my own needs either, but I also don't think of my friends.  And friends who could use some pick-me-up or a vote of confidence or maybe a surprise gift or memory.

I was pretty badly depressed in September due to an accident I had, and I was pretty upset with myself after the depression lifted.  You see, I didn't reach out to any friends for their birthdays like I would normally do, I didn't reach out to them during tough days (like a deathversary), and just wasn't there for them like I normally am unexpectedly for my friends when I'm non-depressed.

I was so disappointed in myself.  I mean, most things I do for my friends are thoughtful and unexpected things, but it still made me mad at myself.  The depression got in my way to be there for them! 

But, the fact of the matter is when I am depressed my brain doesn't think straight.  And I don't think of anyone - not friends, not myself, no one.  

So, to see how others act so "outgoing" or "self-less" when they are depressed is intriguing to me, lol.

(note:  and yes, I have tried anti-depressants.  The ones I tried didn't work but I also don't want to be dependent on any drug, anyway.)

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. 

Christmastime in New York as a Child

My Mom's parents lived in upstate New York.  My Mom and I went there for Christmas every year or so from about 1977 until my Grandfather passed in 1981.

It's the times in your life like these as child that you remember.  We don't usually remember the every day things at that age (I was 7 to 10 years old during this time), but the times that were memorable were the ones out of the norm and special.  And being in a place with a TON of snow and very cold in a tiny house with an even colder basement, made for great memories for this little girl from Texas.

Upstate New York is where the mountains are and all the trees - way away from city life or the hustle and bustle.

My Grandparents' house in the small city of Gloversville, NY had a large back yard, and it nestled up to a forest.  There were no fences or anything like that - back then you didn't keep your neighbors away like today.

There were a few trees right near the house, but then that large area until you came upon the forest.  It was so very pretty - just a very large area of beautifully white, crisp untouched snow.

My Grandpa was lucky.

You see, my Grandpa and I put carrots out for the reindeer on the back porch.  Then my Mom and he would tuck me in the night before Christmas.  I would ask about Santa and the reindeer and wondered how Santa would know I was in Gloversville, NY and not in San Antonio, TX and would he find me to drop off my gifts?  I was very concerned, as you can imagine.

Because some of the trees were close to the house, the wind would make the branches sway and they would scratch the roof.  My Grandpa and I would look up at the ceiling toward the noise, and he would tell me I better go to sleep as the "reindeer" were already trying to get on the roof and if I was awake I wouldn't get any gifts.  Altho it seems like I stayed wide awake excited for a long time looking at the ceiling, snuggled tightly under the warm blankets, I fell asleep really quickly actually.

Grandpa was lucky those trees were so close to the house!  Or else I'd have stayed up and ruined Santa's surprises.

Then in the morning, I would see that Santa did indeed find me in New York somehow!

Grandpa and I would eventually put on our warm slippers and big coats and inch slowly out the back door to see if the carrots were still there.

The reindeer had eaten them all!  And I could see the footprints in the snow of the reindeer all the way to and from the forest!

I was happy, mesmerized and giddy with excitement every time I saw that for those years.

Grandpa again got lucky - it was prolly rabbits or something from the forest.  As a child, I didn't study the footprints well enough to figure that out, lol.

I love having these memories of the white snow for miles on end, solid lakes Mom and I would skate/slide across in our boots, feeding apples to the cold horses, and the "reindeer" who came to eat the carrots.

Christmastime in New York as a child.  Yep, I was the lucky one.