Thursday, July 30, 2015

Coming Back and Healing



Many people suffer from the fear of finding oneself
alone, and so they don't find themselves at all.

Rollo May
Man's Search For Himself


Good morning everyone.  I want to thank those who reached out with their condolences.  So much appreciated to know that there are people who care.   I'm going to be honest.  It took me awhile to decide whether or not I wanted to come back.  I've never been one to complain about the lack of comments.  It never bothered me.  But, at a time when one is going through a great emotional turmoil and loss, a simple "I'm sorry" means the world when one is feeling so down.   Yet, despite hundreds of people who viewed my blog, and some even stopped following,  only a handful reached out with their support and to them I am so grateful.  I can't begin to tell you how much it meant to me.  Sorry, to all.  I had to put this out there.  I was really, really hurt.

Now, with that being said, it has been a very emotional time for me.  So many ups and downs.  One moment I am feeling at peace and the next I am broken down in tears.  I feel at peace because I had forgiven and will not carry resentments the rest of my life.  Tears come when I realize that we never did have and never will have the reconciliation I have hoped for for so many years.  But, even in the midst of sorrow, love is there. 


This old book doesn't look like much; in fact, it doesn't even look like a book.  But it contains the story of my life.  My daughter sent it to me.  She thought that I should have it.  My mom kept it all these years.  It is the story of my life from the time I was a baby until my teen age years.  It contains pictures of me, of family long forgotten, of happier times before it all went wrong. My mom really did love me.

How did we go from this smiling loving family to the dysfunction that tore us apart.  Or, was it always there?  Are the pictures nothing more than a facade?  I have to believe not.  I have to believe there was a time that we all loved each other.  A time before the affair and my dad's alcoholism. A time when I had parents to take care of me, to love me, to make their only child the center of their world.

This album has begun awakening memories in me.  Things that had been stuffed deep into my subconscious are now coming to the surface.  Perhaps this is what I needed all along to heal.  Perhaps now I will finally be able to find myself.

Back to regular blogging on Monday.   Have a wonderful weekend.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

My Mom Passed Quietly



My mom passed last night. My heart is broken that we never had a chance to make amends.  I always held that dream.  I tried so hard, but she always turned away from me, told me once that I was dead. I forgave, though, a long, long time ago.  I hope she knows how much I love her. I wish we could have found a way to put aside our differences, but she never could forgive.  I love you, mom.  I always will. May your journey peaceful.  You will forever be in my heart.

Thanks for all your support.
 
We looked so much alike as I got older.  

You can shed tears that she is gone
or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
or you can open your eyes and see all she has left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she's gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back

or you can do what she would want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

David Harkins

Friday, July 3, 2015

Taking Some Time Off



Received word last night that my mom's health has deteriorated drastically, and she is now in hospice care.  It shouldn't be long now.  My heart is broken.  As you know, my mom and I did not have a good relationship, but I'd always held out hope of a reconciliation.  Now I know that that will never happen.  I wanted to feel her arms around me, just once in my life. She does not want to see me, and I have to respect her wishes.  I want her to have peace in her last hours, and if seeing me will cause her any kind of pain, then so be it.  I have forgiven, and she is in my heart.  I love you mom, and I always will.  One day we will meet again.

Hence, I will be taking some time away from blogging.  Need some time to process all that is going on.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Thursday Photos



While the spirit of neighborliness was important on the frontier because neighbors were so few, it is even more important now because our neighbors are so many.

Lady Bird Johnson

I love where I live. After the 15 years of living in a home where, now that I look at it, I was NEVER 'really' happy, I feel blessed to be in a place now where I can enjoy people because they actually 'SPEAK' to me and not glare at me as if I came from outer space. I love having a bus that stops in front of my house that with a transfer will take me anyplace I want to go in Brooklyn, and so much available shopping that deciding which direction to walk to buy some fruit becomes a major decision.

With that being said, here are a few photos of my neighborhood.

This is a house on my block.  I love seeing these flowers as I walk past.

This church is a couple of doors down from my building.  Love the view of the spire up above the trees.
This is 8th Avenue, a small section of Brooklyn's 'Little Chinatown'.  See the store on the corner?  I remember being on the bus and thinking, "Oh, goodie.  A candy store right on the corner."  Then I discovered that there was no candy to be found in the store.  It's filled with trinkets.  I still love going in there.  Love their little wish bottles.
And finally, a picture I took of my building.
Have a good one.


Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Tuesday Memories



Happy are they who still love something they loved in the nursery:
They have not been broken in two by time; they are not two persons,
but one, and they have saved not only their souls but their lives.

G.K. Chesterton

Some of my best memories of childhood are those of my paper dolls.  I had boxes and boxes of them.  Grandpa and I used to head to town every Saturday morning.  He'd give me a little spending money and I would head right for the store to see what new books came out.  One time there was an extra special book in the store.  I couldn't believe it.  So many paper dolls in one book.  But I didn't have enough money so I ran out of the store to find grandpa.  To my chagrin, he REFUSED to give me anymore money.  Not only was my heart broken that I couldn't get that book, by this was the first time my grandpa had EVER refused me.  Cried all the way home.


I was obsessed with my paper dolls.  No magazine was safe.  Grandma used to hide her McCall's because I'd been known to take Betsy before she was done reading.  Which is why I have this on my Wish List at Amazon


And I ordered this already.  Wonder how it will feel to cut out some paper dolls after nearly 60 years.


Have a good one.

Monday, June 29, 2015

Monday Morning This and That


Never respond to an angry person with a fiery comeback, even if
he or she deserves it. . . . Don't allow his or her anger
to become your anger.


Bohdi Sanders
Warrior Wisdom



Morning all.  Hope you had a great weekend.  I had a quiet one.  I scheduled it that way.  Saturday was my stay-in and do nothing day.  Cooked dinner, yes, but nothing fancy.  Did some journaling and lots of reading.  Went to church on Sunday.  It sure was cool out this weekend.  Doesn't really feel like July 4th will be here on Saturday.  That will be 7 years of non-smoking for me.  My own personal Independence Day.

I really enjoyed Sunday's sermon. The priest spoke about planting seeds within.  Do we want to grow beautiful flowers, or do we choose to be overrun with weeds. The choice is ours.  He then went on to relate a story about a woman he knew when he was just a young Priest with his first congregation.  This was a woman filled with such an anger that family and friends had turned away from her. The only one who ever had time for her was this young Priest.

Then, one day he received word of a transfer and notified his congregation that he would be leaving.  After the service the woman came up to him and asked, "I know I am an angry person.  How could you stand to be around me?"

The Priest responded, "Because your anger had nothing to do with me.  It is all  part of your garden, not mine."

Good lesson.  If someone chooses to sow weeds/anger that is their choice, and I should not allow it to invade my garden.  

Haven a good one.


Thursday, June 25, 2015

Friday Roundup

Drag your thoughts away from your troubles--by the ear, by the heels,
or any other way you can manage it.  It's the healthiest thing a body can do.

Mark Twain
 


Good morning, all.  As Friday rolls around, I wish I could just sit in and do nothing today.  Been such a busy, but fun week.  My body is calling for my rocking chair, but it's bill time again so I'm off to the bank this morning.  Seems like these months pass quicker and quicker.

My blogger friends, I have a dilemma and really need your advice.  How do you handle an online stalker?  Well, I call her a stalker, but she really is just a lonely depressed woman who has infiltrated herself into my life.  I met her in a FB group I belonged to.  It was one of those gift and card exchange groups, and it was fun for awhile.  Then, at one point, the group leaders asked if any of us would like a penpal.  I already had several but I agreed.  It's fun receiving 'snail mail'.  Well, the penpal they chose for me became my stalker.

So, why do I call her my stalker, you may ask?  Well, it all started out normal enough, but then I noticed she was joining all the groups I belong to.  Next, she friended my son, followed by his girlfriend.  Next it was one of my other online friends. Now I see she has friended my son's friend who went with us to the party the other night.  I have to wonder how many more of my friends she tried to become friends with. She speaks of me, my hubby and my children as if we are HER family. And it's like she sits at her computer all day waiting for me to post something because the moment I do, she is there with a comment.  As far as being a penpal, she writes me a letter every single day and then tries to make me feel guilty that I don't write her as often. I finally had enough of it and asked her to stop trying to make me feel bad, that I write her as often as I can.

Maybe it's just me, but I feel creepy about the whole thing. I feel as if she is trying to live vicariously through me, and I don't want that.  This is MY life.  And I know that she is very super sensitive so I am careful not to hurt feelings.  She messaged me one day and said she was really going to need me for the week because her sister, who doesn't live with her, was going away to see her daughter.  In a nice way I told her that I cannot always be available for her because I lead a busy life and spoke to her at length as to how we are responsible for our own happiness, suggesting that she finds things to do, like going to the park, rather than sitting in her house getting more and more depressed.  Thought that might help her, but the next thing I know she is asking for my phone number.  No way. 

And, I guess it is harmless because she lives several states away and will never be able to travel here.  But I just don't feel comfortable.  How would you handle this situation without  sending her into a deep depression?  Or should I just let it be and stop letting it bother me so much.  Am I making too much out of it?  Need some advice.

Have a wonderful weekend.