Tag Archives: problems

10

Jan. ’14

Aaliyah

“I run because I can.  When I get tired, I remember those who can’t run, what they’d give to have this simple gift I take for granted, and I run harder for them.  I know they would do the same for me.”
– Unknown

Hey there, Blog World.  I would like to introduce you to someone.

Ladies and gentlemen: meet Aaliyah.

Aaliyahblog2Is this not the most gorgeous little soon-to-be-5-year-old you’ve ever seen?  And now, I’m going to tell you the story of Miss Aaliyah, and how she came into my life.

As some of you may know, I’m a runner.  If you’re new to my blog, you may not realize that fact since I haven’t really talked about it in a while.  I just ran my second half marathon in November (after running my first in May), and have been a bit of a slacker ever since.  As I’m sure a lot of runners will understand and relate with, I was having a bit of a post-race slump.  But as the New Year approached, I started to remember some promises I had made to myself.  One promise, in particular.

Last year, I insisted that 2014 would be the year I ran my first marathon.

I even started a training plan and had a race picked out for April 2014.  Well, I’ll just be quite honest with you…that idea fizzled.  If you’ve never trained for a distance race, let me explain what happens.  Pretty much everything in your life has to take a backseat to training.  I’m not kidding.  Even when you’re not running, you’re thinking about running.  The things you eat and drink change, the amount of sleep you get changes (or at least you stress over the fact that you’re not getting enough), your weekend plans have to revolve around your ‘long run’ day.  Etc. Etc. Etc.  And I only know all of this from training for a half marathon.  Training for a full marathon?  Yeah, double all of that.  It’s a commitment.  A big one.  Because of the holidays and the cold weather and the release of the book, Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dating Game, that contains my story (woohoo!) and all of the hoopla that went with it, I decided I didn’t quite have the time to devote to training for a marathon just yet.

And then, I found Aaliyah.

irun4A few months ago, prior to my running slump, I stumbled across the Facebook page for a community called IRun4.  After I started doing a little research, I found their website and got pretty excited about the whole idea.  Basically, this is a program that ‘matches’ runners with children with disabilities.  You strike up a friendship with the child’s parent and you dedicate your logged miles to the child.  It’s really a way to motivate both sides.  The parent and their child (if they’re old enough to understand) know that there is a practical stranger out there in the world who cares about them and what they’re going through, and the runner is provided with a reminder of how blessed we are to have the health and ability to do this thing we love to do: run.  Another benefit?  It increases awareness.  Awareness of some of the illnesses we’ve never even heard of that these beautiful children (and their parents) are living with everyday.

Well, yesterday, after an almost 3-month spot on the waiting list, I received notification that I had been matched.  With beautiful little Aaliyah who lives in Texas with her mommy.   After speaking online with her mom, I was introduced to a disorder that I had never heard of.  Little Aaliyah has what is called Rett Syndrome.  The best way I know to describe this is to use a phrase I have found on many of the websites I’ve researched:

Imagine the symptoms of Autism, Cerebral Palsy, Parkinson’s, Epilepsy and a variety of anxiety disorders all rolled into one little girl.  That’s Rett Syndrome.

This is what Aaliyah has to battle every day of her life.

Now, this is all new to me.  All I know about the disease is what I’ve read since hearing the term for the first time yesterday.  I don’t live with it every day like Aaliyah and her young mom do, so I don’t really know what life is like for them.  But I plan to learn.  And I plan to do more research and I plan to become more aware of what little Aaliyah’s life is like.  And until I can find another way to support the disease itself, I will do the only thing I know to do here in my little world half way across the country from her – I will run for her.  Each time I put on my running shoes, I will say a little prayer for Aaliyah and her mom and send good vibes and love their way.  And I will hope that they feel them.

AaliyahblogAnd….I will start searching for my first full marathon somewhere this fall.  What better reason to go the distance, right?  First on the agenda:  training for another half marathon in early May (the same one I did as my first half last year).  With Aaliyah’s little spirit cheering me on, I think this is going to be a successful running year.

So, little Aaliyah in Texas – I am going to do my best to not let you down.  I will earn the distinction as your running buddy and will do all I can to promote awareness of what you are going through.  I will keep you in my prayers and in my heart and will remember you and your mommy and hope that you know that each step I take from this moment on, is for you. 

Because, after all….

Aaliyahblog4

One little girl out there in the world is going to know that she is thought about and loved.  I won’t let you down, kiddo.

Here’s to a 2014 filled with running successes and wonderful new friendships.

***

In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.  It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.  We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.” 
– Albert Schweitzer

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02

Dec. ’13

Seasons

“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.”
– Hal Borland

Ahh. ‘Tis the season.

The holidays. The time for joy. The time for sharing. The time to look around and appreciate the ones you love – hold them close to you and thank your lucky stars that they are in your life. You know, all that warm fuzzy stuff. Awwww.

christmasAnd boy, it sure would be nice if that were all the holidays were about.  But unfortunately, it’s not.  Because, you know what else this time is?

It’s the time of year that makes it painfully obvious when one of those “people that you love”…is missing. And you know what especially stings?  When that person who is missing during this happy holiday season, is missing by choice.

I talk about my happy relationship a lot on this blog. And it is very much that…a happy relationship.  Yes, we have our ‘down’ times just like any relationship does. But, even during those times, we both know how very lucky we are to have each other. We are in a loving, committed, and most importantly, an equal relationship that makes us both feel fulfilled and excited and hopeful for a long future together.  And I wonder sometimes how other people see these things I say about our life together, especially those who are recently single or who are just generally ‘unattached’ for whatever the reason.  I’m sure they look at what I say the same way I used to look at it when other people would say it.  Which was, “Well yeah, that’s great that this happening for you, lady, but it’s not like that for all of us.  You’re just one of the lucky ones.  Every story doesn’t have a cute little ending, Miss Happy Pants.”

Well, guess what?  I’m with ya, sista. (Or brotha, as the case may be.)  I am – I completely hear what you’re saying.  And you know why?

Because it certainly hasn’t always been this way.

christmas09I was just looking through some old pictures from Christmases in the not-so-distant past, and I came across this picture of my kids and me from the Christmas season of 2009, just four short years ago.  We sure do look happy, don’t we?  But I’m gonna tell you a secret.  See that smile on my face?

It’s fake.

Yep.  It sure is.  It’s about as fake as a smile can get.  Now, I’m not saying being there with my kids didn’t make me happy.  It did.  But as you can tell from the way I have my hands placed on them, I was holding on to them for dear life.  They were my anchors in the storm that my life was going through.  Behind that smile, there was so much hurt.  So much pain.  So much uncertainty and confusion.  And most of all, so much sadness.  I was going through a time that I sometimes thought I was not going to make it through.

What was happening, you ask?  Well, it’s simple.

My heart was broken.

In one of my previous blogs, I referenced what I like to call my “breakup bible.”  It’s the book, It’s Called A Breakup Because It’s Broken by Greg Behrendt and his wife Amiira.  (If you’re hurting over the end of a relationship, go read it.  Like, now.  Trust me on this.)  So, in this breakup bible of mine, there is the following quote:

“Being brokenhearted is like having broken ribs.  On the outside, it looks like nothing is wrong, but every breath hurts.”

Holy crap, is there so much truth to that.  It’s hard to function in any of your day-to-day activities when you can’t even take a breath without pain.  And that’s how I felt.  People can minimalize the pain of a breakup all day long, but I’ll be the first to call “BS” on that nonsense.  Heartbreak friggin hurts.  Bad.  And that’s how I was feeling during the Christmas of 2009.  I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this on this blog before, but I’ve been divorced twice.  Yep, you read that right.  Twice.  My first marriage was to my children’s father, and that ended years ago, back when my babies were just little.  We were both young and got swept up in the family life before we were ready.  That kind of thing happens, ya know.

But my second marriage?  Yeah, I can’t blame youth on that one.  And I can’t blame getting married out of some sort of ‘necessity.’  No baby was on the way or anything along those lines.  Nothing was ‘forcing’ us to get married.  I also can’t blame it on poor planning.  We dated for over three years before finally deciding to get married.  To be honest, I can’t blame my choice to get married to him on anything other than the fact that I loved him.  I did.  I loved him, he loved me, and we thought we were going to build a life together, regardless of the statistical odds that we were facing.

Well.  We were wrong.

After all that planning, after those years of dating, and after all of the conversations about how we weren’t going to be one of the statistics, we became just that.  Another statistic.  And it hurt.

No, that’s putting it too mildly.  It didn’t just hurt.  It was excruciating.  This wasn’t just your run-of-the-mill relationship breakup.  This was the breakup of a marriage.  The breakup of a newly-formed family (we both had kids from our previous marriages).  This was a decision that affected us all to the core of our beings.  And that picture up there that I showed you?  That picture was taken about a month after I had moved out of the home we shared and into my own little trailer.  It was the only thing I could find that I could afford.  I was starting from scratch.  Again.  I sure didn’t see that coming on the day I took those vows.  (Do we ever?)

But now, let’s skip to Christmas 2013.  Four years later.

fampicHere we are.  Richard and I and our kids.  All together.  All healed and happy and ready to face the future.  Here I am doing exactly what I swore I’d never do.  Not only was I not going to fall in love again, but I sure as heck wasn’t going to fall in love with a man with kids.  You can read all the self-help books in the world about how it feels to lose a relationship or a marriage, but I can guarantee you that there isn’t much out there to help you through the pain of losing step-kids.  Once my marriage ended, so did my ties to his children.  And I was going to make certain I would never fall in love with a man’s kids again like I fell in love with them.

But I was wrong.

I think I fell in love with Richard’s kids before I fell in love with him, to tell you the truth.  And I’m not so sure it didn’t happen the same way for Richard with my kids.  And Richard had the same reservations I did.  He was hurting from a previous loss as well.  Even if he hadn’t told me, I could see it on his face.  He was just like me…he had made all the same promises to himself that I had made.  No more relationships.  No more commitments.  No more love.  It’s just too darn painful.

Ha!  Well, look how that turned out.

I don’t know you, and I don’t know your specific situation.  My readers are as diverse as any set group of individuals always are.  But if you’re one of the ones who is getting ready to face this holiday season alone after the end of a relationship, this blog is for you.  All I want you to know is this.

Pain ends.

It really truly does.  The future that you think you won’t have with anyone else?  You’re wrong.  It’s there.  That relationship bliss that you think is reserved for big-mouth redheads with their own blog?  You’re wrong there too.  It’s waiting for YOU.  Yes, you.  Maybe not today.  Maybe not tomorrow.  But one day down the line, it’s going to be your turn.  If someone would have told me that back during the Christmas of 2009, I would have said the same thing to them that you’re thinking right now.  That kind of thing is for other people, not for me.  And I would have been just as wrong as you are.

Just as wrong.

I am writing this blog with one particular person in mind, but as I have seen from many of the other things that I have written, we are never ever alone in our struggles.  For this one person’s pain, there are millions more who are feeling it too.  We are all connected and that pain that you feel is reserved for only you, isn’t.  The pain isn’t yours alone, and the happiness isn’t mine alone.  These are just seasons.  We all get a turn.  The world keeps spinning, even when you feel like it shouldn’t.

So keep on keepin’ on, my friends.  Your happy may be just around the corner.

Merry Christmas.

***

“Nothing lasts forever – not even your troubles.”
– Arnold H. Glasow

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27

Nov. ’13

Moving Forward

“By seeking and blundering, we learn.”
– Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

weather1

Well, here it is.  *sigh*  I knew it was coming.  Knew I’d have to face it eventually.

The dreaded winter.  The evil snow.  The crappy road conditions.

Ugh.

For my readers who have been with me a while, you may remember one particular snow-related blog I wrote earlier this year.  To recap, we had one last freak late Winter/early Spring snowstorm that showed up out of nowhere at the beginning of April.  And said freak snowstorm just so happened to show up while I was driving home from work.  Freak snowstorm + driving home from work in a big, clunky car = bad.  Very bad.

I wrecked.

wreck

And not only did I wreck, but I flipped my car down a rocky bank and totaled it.  But…I’m here to tell you about it, so obviously the outcome was much better than what it had the potential of being.  And I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for that.

Now, fast forward a bit.  Although I was definitely a little shaky getting behind the wheel for the first time after the accident, the fear soon subsided and my life as a driver sailed on.  I got a new (well, new to me) car, one with all-wheel drive, thank you very much, and the accident was all but forgotten.

Well, that is, until today.

Today, we have snowfall #1 for Winter 2013.  And where was I?  Driving in it.  What was supposed to be a 30-minute drive to work ended up being an hour and a half drive to work.  (Now, if you know me well, or even if you don’t and you’ve paid attention to things I’ve said in the past, you’ll know that I actually live an hour from where I work.  Why did I say a 30-minute drive?  I’ll get to that part soon enough.  Believe it or not, this will all tie together eventually.  How do you like for foreshadowing, huh?  Huh?  Dude, I’m such a writer…)

weather2

Ok, back to the story.  So, when I left for work, it was just spitting snow a little and I didn’t think it was going to be that bad.  But as I got about a third of the way there, I realized that the further I went, the worse the roads were getting.  If there had been a place to safely turn around, I think I would have done it right then and there and went right back home.  But, sadly, there wasn’t.  So I kept moving forward.  By the time I got to the main road, I was over halfway to work, so I figured there would be less driving to just keep heading in the direction I was going.  Now, I’ve never been someone who was scared to drive in the snow, mind you.  But I’ve also never been someone who was driving in the snow for the first time after a bad snow-related accident either.  Needless to say, I was a little shaky.  Ok, a LOT shaky.

So, driving along scared to death in the snow with an extra hour of driving time than I had anticipated, my poor little brain had nothing else to do but think.  And think and think and think.  And since my dumb ole thoughts kept drifting back to the accident, and consequently to the similarities of today’s driving conditions to that day’s, I was doing all I could to redirect those silly thoughts to something else.  Anything else.  So…I reverted back to the old fail safe.  Something my thoughts seem to drift to pretty regularly.  Something I tend to overanalyze to death on a regular basis so why would my snowy drive to work today be any exception?

My relationship with Richard.

US2Richard and I have been talking about taking another step forward in our relationship.  And although I’m head over heels, madly in love with him, I’m a wee bit nervous about that.  Ok, just kidding…I’m scared out of my friggin mind.  See…I don’t have the best track record when it comes to making relationships work out.  I know, shocking, isn’t it?  I mean, a mild-mannered, shy, quiet little un-opinionated girl like myself?  How on Earth would I have trouble getting along in relationships, right?  I know, I know.  It surprises me too.  But alas, as hard as it is to believe, it is the honest truth.  And with that truth comes fear.  A well-founded fear.

A fear of another failure.

As my mind once again played out the pros and cons of our impending ‘next step,’ I looked around and realized that I was pulling into my driveway at work.  I had made it!  Obsessing over something besides the weather conditions actually worked to distract me!  Woohoo!

So, since I was safe and sound, I answered Richard’s “Did you make it to work?” text.

Me:  I made it!  My little car did awesome!
Richard:  Well, YEAH!  It has an awesome driver.
Me:  Ha!  I think last winter’s little accident proved that’s not true.
Richard:  Oh, that wasn’t your fault.  Shit happens.

And suddenly, with that one line of pure poetry coming out of my honey’s mouth (or, er…I guess I should say, fingers), it hit me.  The glaringly obvious similarity.  Duh!  How did I not notice it before?  This clear correlation between my fear of driving to work in the snow, and my fear of moving forward with Richard.  The fears were identical.  Both fears existed because of things that happened in the past.  And just like my carrying the heavy burden of blame for the accident, I was carrying that same burden of blame for my past failed relationships.

And this burden – this heavy, unnecessary albatross around my neck – was preventing me from moving forward.  Preventing me from just getting in the car (the new and improved car, I might add) and driving through the snow again.  I learned my lessons.  I drove a little slower.  I bought a better car that was more suited to winter weather.  I allowed myself more time.  I wasn’t in any hurry.  I learned.  It wasn’t my “fault” exactly, I realize that now.  As my philosophical sweetie so eloquently pointed out: shit happens.  It does.  It just happens.  So, you adjust.  You do things a little better next time.  You take it slower.  You make sure you’re better equipped.  You let life make you smarter.  And then you just keep going.

You just keep going.

So.  Accident logic learned – I cannot just stop driving anywhere because I once wrecked.  That would just be stupid, now wouldn’t it?   (*ding ding ding*)  Time to apply that logic elsewhere.  No more fear.  No more blame.  No more albatross.  Just let it go.

Time to move forward.

So, remember that little teaser I threw in there at the beginning?  The part about me having what should have been a 30-minute drive to work, when I actually live an hour from work?  Well, here’s why.  I was at Richard’s house.  You know why?  Well, let’s just say the past week has been a ‘test run’ of sorts.  We’re seeing what it would be like for me to live there.  With him.  Together.  And you know what?  We both feel – deep down in our guts – that this is the right thing to do.  It just makes sense.  You know?

So, as of January 1, 2014, Richard and I will be officially taking this next step forward to our future.  We’re moving in together.  We have our seatbelts on and we’re ready to go.  Our previous ‘accidents’ are just that.  Accidents.  They happened, they’re over, we’ve learned, and we’re ready to hop back in the car and see where this next trip takes us.

It’s time.

Wish us luck….

(Oh, and hey.  Do me a favor ok?  Don’t tell my Grandma!!!…) 😉

***

“We are products of our past, but we don’t have to be prisoners of it.”
– Rick Warren

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04

Nov. ’13

Bus Driver

Ok, I lied.

Remember Friday when I said I was going to do the daily “what I’m thankful for” thing during the month of November?  Well.  I guess that’s not happening.

Here we are – November 4th – and I have written a grand total of….ONE blog.  Crap.

It’s not that I’m not thankful for things.  I am.  It’s just that I don’t like forcing myself to write.  Telling myself to write every day makes it feel like a chore.  And for me, writing cannot turn into a chore.  It’s one of my only escapes from life’s many other chores as it is.  And besides, I’ve been grumpy as crap over the past few days, so forcing myself to write about what I’m thankful for during my current mindset would have been about as productive as the time I tried to give my cat a bath.

catbath

Get my drift?

So, I skipped a few days.  And I’m probably going to be skipping a few more if I’m going to just be quite honest with you.  I’m just a tad too much of a cynic to come up with a cutesy thankful blog every single day, anyway.  Again, it’s not that I’m not thankful for things.  I just don’t feel like being forced to vomit sunshine and roses every day for a month.  Because some days just aren’t conducive to that kind of…um…’product.’

But, even with that being said, I do, however, want to give a shout out to someone I noticed over the weekend.

My daughter’s school drama club had their annual drama competition on Saturday.  It was in another town – about a two-hour drive – and the team was being transported by bus.  Since they had performed their skit the night before at the school for parents, none of the parents were going along on the Saturday trip.  Except me – the one parent who works in a separate state which kept her from getting to the Friday night performance on time.  So, with the coach’s advance permission, I rode along on the bus with the kids.

Now, believe me when I tell you that there was not a dull moment on that bus ride.  I like to think I’m a pretty young and hip momma, but shew!  I was exhausted before we even got to the competition.  They were great kids, don’t get me wrong.  I don’t mean there was any trouble or anything like that – it was just loud.  LOUD.  And there was so much energy.  Where do they get that from??  I sure do wish I could’ve siphoned some of it into a bottle to take with me to my half marathon in a few days.  Good grief!bus

Well, we got to the competition, and they all performed their little hearts out.  But, sadly, when the results were tallied, not only did they not win, but they actually came in last place. 😦  Talk about a bunch of sad kiddos.  That energy that I mentioned before?  Yeah, it had turned down quite a few notches by the time they all piled back on the bus for the trip home.  While they truly did have a great attitude about the whole thing, the disappointment was evident in all of their faces and body language.  They just couldn’t hide it.

So, we start the much quieter trip home, and someone (in hopes of lifting everyone’s spirits) gets the idea to ask the bus driver if they could play one of their CDs on his stereo system on the bus.  From my safe little seat near the front of the bus (my, how things have changed from when I was a teen myself…), I could see what I expected to be a stern “No, now sit back down and let me drive” from the bus driver.  But, to my surprise, he not only allowed it, but asked them if they wanted him to crank it.  Ha!  What a pointless question – this was a bus full of teenagers.  So, crank it, he did.  Now, we all know the healing power of music, and this was no exception.  As the decibel rose, so did those kids’ spirits.  Before long, there was laughter, singing, and even some “dancing” (at least I think that’s what you call that these days…).  Just like that, the teens’ disappointment was all but forgotten and the bus trip returned to its original state from earlier in the day.  A bus full of happy kids with nothing to worry about except hoping their parents were there at the school to pick them up upon their return.

So, we got back safe and sound (well, maybe our ears were a little worse for wear, but other than that…).  As we were all piling off the bus, myself lagging near the end, I stopped and put my hand on the bus driver’s shoulder and said, “you have the most patience of anyone I’ve ever known.”  His response?  “Nah.  I didn’t mind at all.  They only get to be young once.”

Wow.  Did you hear that?

“They only get to be young once.”

What a guy.  What a philosophy.  What a reminder.

Because of this one man’s positive attitude and flexibility, a potentially depressing bus ride home for a bunch of devastated teenagers turned into the happy, fun-filled trip that it should have been all along.  I wonder if he realizes that?  I wonder if this man knows how contagious his one little attitude ended up being for a busload of kids…and one somewhat grumpy momma?

I hope so.

So, even though I have failed miserably at doing my daily duty of documenting the things I’m thankful for each day, I would still like to add Mr. Bus Driver to the list anyway.  I am thankful for people like him.  People who think of the wellbeing of others before himself.  People who sacrifice a full day of their time to transport a bunch of kids to some event hours away, and then sacrifices his own comfort to be sure they had the best time they possibly could’ve had.  I’d like to think I’d have been the same way if I were him, but I honestly don’t know. I probably would have been tired.  And grumpy.  And ready to go home.  And not willing to listen to the laughter and loud music while I drove all that way after spending an entire day with teenagers.  But see, that’s why I’m not a bus driver.  And that’s why he is.

So, welcome to my small thankful list, bus driver dude.  You made an impact on more people than you probably realized, including myself.  Thank you for being in the right place at the right time.

This blog’s for you.

***

“Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.”
– Winston Churchill

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30

Oct. ’13

Braggin’ on the Hun

“Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.”
~ Jean Anouilh

Ok, I need to brag on my honey.  [I know, I never do that, right??]

Here he is.  Ain’t he purdy?

richard1

*sigh*

Ok.  This blog is not just about how cute the little booger is, so I’ll get to the point.

Let me just start this out with a simple little 100% true and accurate statement.  I am NOT an easy person to love.  Oh, it’s true.  When I’m mad, I’m FURIOUS.  When I’m upset, I’m DISTRAUGHT.  When I’m a little irked, I’m FULLY ANNOYED.  You get the picture, right?  No little responses to anything – everything is temporarily grandiose.  And, as you might guess, this little teeny tiny eensy weensy flaw sometimes leads to some turbulence in the relationship.  Now, it’s not all me, mind you.  My boyfriend Richard has a teeny tiny little flaw too.  He despises conflict.  (I know, right?  *WEIRDO!*)  And when said conflict arises, his fight or flight response is always…always…’flight.’  Well, for this ‘fighter’ that he’s in love with, that crap just don’t fly.

You can imagine how our disagreements go.

1. Something happens (Richard’s fault, of course).
2. I get IRATE.
3. I fling accusations and demand responses.
4. Richard runs.
5. I get MORE mad.
6. Richard stays quiet.
7. I get even more dramatic because of the lack of response.
8. He gets even more quiet because of my increased level of crazy.
9. Time passes.
10. I get tired and chill out.
11. He comes out of hiding and remembers that sometimes I’m not crazy.
12. We talk. We kiss. We make up.
13. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Get the picture?  Here, let me give you a literal picture in case my words weren’t clear.

blog

Yep.  That’s us.  Well, sometimes. 

(And honestly, it’s really not all that often.  And heck, while we’re being totally honest here, that dude and chick in the picture need to be switched….) :/

(Ok, one more parenthetical.  If our relationship sounds a little too familiar to you, you may be in a turtle/hailstorm relationship too.  What the heck did she just say?  Here ya go.  Read about it here.  We’re a textbook case, and you may be too.  Pretty fascinating stuff.)

Ok, let’s get back to the bragging I promised at the beginning of this story.

Nope, our relationship is not always sunshine and roses, that’s for sure.  But then again, there are times like the past few days.

As some of you may have read in my last blog, my Alzheimer’s-ridden grandmother had a little mishap at the nursing home, and was found on the floor.  What they thought to be a broken hip from an initial x-ray, ended up being an old injury from before (poor little lady) and she didn’t end up having to have surgery after all, thank goodness.  But before we knew that for sure, we were just told that she was being transported to the medical center in Bristol, Tennessee, and was being prepped for surgery on her frail little 85-year-old hip.  So, naturally, my mom dropped everything and traveled here to come be with her momma.  And, also naturally, I dropped everything to go be with my momma.  I worked it out to miss work on Tuesday, and I left Monday after work to go stay in a hotel with her, at least for the first night, so she wouldn’t have to be alone.

And what did Richard do?

He dropped everything to come be there for me.

He drove me there, stayed with us, drove us everywhere we needed to go while we were there (that’s one thing my mom and I definitely have in common – we hate driving in areas that are unfamiliar to us).  He went and got drinks and coffee for the family as we waited, and sat right there with us as the hours drug on while we waited for news, and listened to my poor little grandma as she moaned in confusion and/or discomfort (it was hard to know which was which).  Without technically being “blood” family, Richard played a role in this just like the rest of us did.  He did everything he could to be there for the one that he loved.  Me.

And boy, did I notice.

My little Richard sure can be hard on himself sometimes. Maybe it’s because he has a fiery redhead fussing at him all the time?  Naaaah.  Surely, that doesn’t have much to do with it….  But, seriously.  I think it’s important to remind him every now and then how very much I notice and appreciate these little things that he does for me.  The past few days would have been a whole different story if I, and my mom, hadn’t had Richard along for the ride.  These “small” things will one day be the big things as we look back over these years we spent together.  I hope that we will be one of the lucky couples that make it to the very end.  And, if (when) we do, I hope we look back on our life and see the moments like yesterday.  Not the fights, not the nights in the ‘doghouse…,’ but the moments like these.  The ones where we sacrificed ourselves to each other during our times of need.  Because that is what love is all about.

This is the “us” that I’ll remember most.

I sure am in love with a great guy.  Thanks for letting me tell you about him.

usblog

***

“The greatest good you can do for another is not just to share your riches but to reveal to him his own.”
– Benjamin Disraeli

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18

Oct. ’13

Being Ignored

ignored2

(Poor wittle ducky…)

I don’t know about you, but I can TOTALLY relate with that duck.  Been there, done that, did not, however, buy the t-shirt.   (I mean, seriously, who wants a souvenir from that crap?)

You feel me?

Well, check out this fascinating excerpt from an article about ostracism that I happened to stumble across:

“Being excluded or ostracized is an invisible form of bullying that doesn’t leave bruises, and therefore we often underestimate its impact….Being excluded by high school friends, office colleagues, or even spouses or family members can be excruciating…When a person is ostracized, the brain’s dorsal anterior cingulate cortex, which registers physical pain, also feels this social injury.”
– Kipling D. Williams, a professor of psychological sciences

Well, how about that.  Being left out or excluded or…the word I absolutely despise…IGNORED, can actually cause physical damage.  It makes your ‘dorsal anterior blah-blah-blah’ hurt.  Seriously – it makes you feel like you are experiencing pain.  Real, legit pain.  And further in the article is another observation by Dr. Williams that I think is an even more interesting tidbit.  After a study of 5,000 participants, it was noted that:

“The effect [of ostracism] is consistent even though individuals’ personalities vary.”

Well, there ya go.

If you’re like me, being ignored can make you feel like you are a Class A bona fide crazy person.  You probably feel like there is something wrong with you – that you’re weak or needy or clingy – and that must be why it’s bothering you so much.  Well, guess what?  You’re not.  No matter what kind of person you are – whether you are tough as nails or cry at infomercials – your brain is still going to have the exact same physical reaction to having someone turn their back on you as the next guy.  You’re not a freak.  You’re HUMAN.

So, stop feeling so bad about yourself.

And hey – if you’re reading this and you’ve never experienced this?  Then maybe you need to ask yourself if you’re the giver of this kind of the treatment rather than the recipient.  And check this out.  I’ve got news for you, too.

It works both ways.

“[To] exclude another person leads most people to feel shame and guilt, along with a diminished sense of autonomy, explains Nicole Legate, lead author of the Psychological Science paper and a doctoral candidate at the University of Rochester. The results also showed that inflicting social pain makes people feel less connected to others. “We are social animals at heart,” says Legate. “We typically are empathetic and avoid harming others unless we feel threatened.”
– From Science Daily (Read full article here.)

So, let’s cut all the scientific mumbo jumbo down into layman’s terms, shall we?

Stop that shit.  It hurts.

There.  Seems pretty darn simple, doesn’t it?

Seriously.  Stop it.  No one wins.  Don’t you see that?  Analyze why you’re doing what you’re doing and find another way.  Is it a family problem that you’re avoiding facing because of the discomfort?  Well, stop it.  Find out what it is that makes you uncomfortable and tell them so.  Start there and see where it goes.  Is it a friend that you don’t want to be friends with anymore so you just ignore them rather than telling them so?  Well, stop it.  You’re hurting both yourself and them even worse by just ignoring them.  If the friendship isn’t working, say so.  Is it a relationship you don’t want to be in anymore?  Same idea.  Stop it.  The pain inflicted by ignoring someone far exceeds the pain from knowing the truth.  Do you both a favor and stop playing games.  Life is just too short for that junk.

Stop it.

And hey – is it maybe that it’s just a little time and space that you’re needing to sort things out?  Well, here’s a wild and crazy thought.  SAY SO.

(I know, right?  I’m a psychological genius.)

Nothing is more painful than feeling like you’re unimportant and forgotten.  No, I don’t have an article to post or a resource to quote to back up that statement.  It’s just a Melissa-ism.  And it’s 100% accurate.   Why am I so sure about that?  Because I say so.  That’s why.  (See above psychological genius reference.)

Good grief, people.  This life is hard.  It’s so tough to figure out how to interact with all of these fellow human beings that float around us at any given time.  We’re such a beautiful, assorted, mixed array of personalities that it’s amazing that we are able to co-exist at all.  But we do.  And we can.  And we sure can make it a lot easier to do if we just learn who we are, what we want, and stop the passive aggressive B.S.  As John Meyer puts it, “Say what you need to say.”  Do it.  Just say it.  If they don’t understand, then fine.  That’s their problem.  But do your part and don’t be a bully.

Is that really so much to ask?

And back to you receivers.  If you find yourself feeling like the little ducky in the picture, just allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling.  Don’t make yourself feel worse by trying to stifle it or by telling yourself you’re weak or that you need to be tougher or stronger.  You’re going through pain.  And pain hurts.  It’s ok.  It’s life.  There’s nothing wrong with you.  You’re just a human being.  Just like me.  Just like everyone else around you.  And, most importantly, just like the person who is ignoring you.  (The big ole jerkface….)

*Sigh*

Hang in there, my friends.

If we could all just do our part to get along with each other, this world sure would be a nicer place, don’t ya think?

Hey, a girl can dream…

***

“Our prime purpose in this life is to help other.  And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.” 
-Dalai Lama

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17

Oct. ’13

Chasm

splitpaths1

Chasm

And then, just like that,
It happens.
Up ahead, you see it.
The path is splitting.
Your companion takes no notice.
They follow on their path as if nothing has changed.
As if nothing looms ahead.
But you.
No.  You’re different.
You’ve always been different.
You see what others do not.
What they will not.
Your paths are not the same.
You know the other path is not the one for you.
The things that please others do not please you.
You find your contentment among books, words,
Children, footsteps on pavement.
But not there.
Not where that path leads.
The loudness, the chaos, the fake laughter, the mornings after.
No.  No, those aren’t for you.
You have stepped over to that path in the past,
This is true.
But it was fake.  Not the real you.
You hurriedly made your way back to the path where you belong.
Where you felt safe.
Where you are content.
Where your footsteps make sense.
Where your smiles are genuine
And there is no pretending.
But now.
The distance between the paths is getting wide.
The chasm is no longer traversable.
Reaching out to hold the hand of your companion
No longer seems possible.
The path is splitting.
You hold on for as long as you can.
Until fingertips are all that connect you.
You stretch.  You reach.  You strain.
It’s no use.
The distance is too evident.
Too much.

Someone must step across.

Or let go.

***

“Look at every path closely and deliberately, then ask yourself this crucial question:  Does this path have a heart?  If it does, then the path is good.  If it doesn’t, it is of no use.”
– Carlos Castaneda

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13

Oct. ’13

Roles

“Actors do tend to get pigeonholed.  People want to know who you are so they can put you in a box.  It’s lovely to be known for such diametrically opposite roles.”
– Tom Hiddleston

I was just sitting here reflecting over last weekend at Oz (read that blog here if you missed it) and something dawned on me.

This has been a year of some awesome roles for me.  (And quite diverse ones, at that!)

I’ve been an actor for a long time, and it just occurred to me that most of my very favorite roles and on-stage moments have happened in 2013. This has been quite a year!

Here are a few examples:

Started the year off as Elvis.  Yep, you read that right.  Elvis.

Ok, so I was a country hick trailer park chick dressed up as Elvis for the “Elvis and Jesus: A Tribute to the Kings” nativity scene.  In July.  In Florida.  (Did ya get all that?)  Oh yeah, you have to check this play out if you’ve never heard of it.  Radio T.B.S.  It’s a hoot.  And, incidentally, this was the first time I’ve ever received an ovation mid-show.  My Heartbreak Hotel was apparently awesome.  Or….hilariously bad.  Eh, either way, they clapped.  Booyah.

Next?

“Mother” in the show Life With Father.

Pretty awesome role.  Even got to do a TV interview for it.  (Read that blog here if you’re interested.)  Yep, very cool stuff.

Then, I got to play a flooz.

You just can’t beat that.  (Gloria Rasputin in Bye, Bye, Birdie.)  Even had to tap dance and do a split.  Well.  Sort of…

And then last weekend, as my regular readers know, I got to be both the Wicked Witch and Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, at the Autumn at Oz festival in Beech Mountain, North Carolina.

Yep.  As you can see, this has been a year that I have stepped “out of the box” somewhat.  I have been blessed with these varied roles and have enjoyed every minute of becoming someone completely different each and every time I’ve donned a new costume.   And, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’ve actually enjoyed watching myself blossom as an actress as I’ve stepped into these roles.  I wasn’t so sure I had it in me, but apparently I do.  I’ve been kinda proud of myself.  How about that?

Pretty cool stuff.

But you know what’s even cooler?  Knowing that at the end of the day, after the costumes are neatly put away and silence drowns out the applause, I get to step into a few even better roles.

This one, for example:

“Of all the roles I’ve played, none has been as fulfilling as being a mother.” 
– Annette Funicello

I get to be these awesome teenagers’ mom.  How freakin’ cool is that?  Just like all of the other roles I’ve been blessed with, this is another one that I wasn’t sure I would know how to play.  And sometimes I still falter, sometimes I don’t always follow the script or get my lines right, but all-in-all I think I’ve managed to do a pretty darn good job.  I sure have some awesome little co-stars, that’s for sure.

All it takes is to turn on the radio or the TV and within minutes you are hearing some new horror story about the awful things teenagers are into these days.  Each time this happens, I say a silent little prayer and thank my lucky stars that I have the kids I have.  Now, I’m not saying they’re perfect – far from it – but the problems that we have are just normal, everyday problems.  Nothing drastic and severe like some poor parents have to go through.  I hope my kids know how proud I am of who they are, and who they are becoming.  And I hope the role I’ve played in their lives has had a little something to do with that.  I like to think it does.

Another role I’m pretty blessed with?

Being the one this guy loves.

“If you age with somebody, you go through so many roles – you’re lovers, friends, enemies, colleagues, strangers; you’re brother and sister. That’s what intimacy is, if you’re with your soul mate.” 
– Cate Blanchett

My gosh, I sure do love this dude.  We have been through many phases in our relationship – and I think that’s why the above quote speaks to me so much.  We’ve been all of those to each other at some point, and we just keep going strong.

When it comes to love, I’ve tried out quite a few roles.  I tried being the submissive wife.  I’ve tried being the girlfriend who gives up everything she really loves to try to keep the peace.  I’ve tried sacrificing who I am to make someone else happy.  None of these roles seemed to fit.

And now I know why.

“I’ve had disappointments and heartbreaks and setbacks and roles I didn’t get, but something always came along that either made me better or was an even better role.” 
– Lee Majors

Finally, I get to play the best role I’ve ever played.

Myself.

It has taken me a long, long time to finally get to enjoy this role.  Took some trial and error, I admit.  But finally, finally, I think I’ve figured out this role pretty well.  And it sure is nice to be allowed to play it.

I think I’m right where I belong.

This is the role I’ve been waiting for.

Are you playing the role you’re meant to play?  Make sure you are.  Life is just too short for anything else.  Trust me.

***

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”  
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

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25

Sep. ’13

Luck

“Any fool can have bad luck; the art consists in knowing how to exploit it.”
– Frank Wedekind

Luck.

Ok, so you know those people, right?  The ones who seem to have everything going for them.  Who seem to skate through life with no noteworthy negativity [How do you like that alliteration??].  Everything just seems to go their way without them even having to lift a finger.  *sigh*  Must be nice.  As some of my graceful, elegant family members used to describe it, “They walk around like they have a horseshoe stuck up their butt.”

(Ok, maybe “butt” wasn’t exactly their choice of words…but I digress…)

Well, me?  Yeah, I am NOT one of those people.  Especially when it comes to vehicles.  While those people get to have horseshoes stuck up there, I apparently have an albatross that climbs up mine every time I get behind the wheel of a vehicle.

Now, maybe blaming it on luck isn’t exactly fair.  I’m sure some of it may have to do with my own carelessness.  Maybe.  But seriously, a lot of it just really isn’t my fault.  Really.

Let’s look at the past five months, shall we?

Some of my regular followers may remember that I had an accident back in April.  I totaled my car.  (Missed that blog?  Want the gruesome details?  Click here.)

[Ugh…ok, I’m lying.  There aren’t any ‘gruesome’ details.  That was just a shameless plug of an old blog to get you to read it.  I’m a jerk…]

Anyhoozle…

So, I totaled my car.  And that sucked.  Yes, I guess you could say that was my ‘fault’ (at least my new insurance premium screams that loud and clear), but in my defense, a freak, unexpected winter storm hit us out of the blue while I was on the road.  A new layer of snow on a curvy road doesn’t make for the most favorable road conditions.  So, fault or no fault, I guess you could say a little bad luck was at play.  That is, if you believe in that kind of thing.  I call my boyfriend Richard and he comes and picks my car-less self up and takes me home to take care of me.  (Awww.)

So, fast forward a few days.  I finally feel able to drive again.  (Now, nothing was all that wrong physically, mind you, other than my slight concussion – it was more of a mental barrier to wanting to drive again after flipping down a rocky bank…)  That sweet, wonderful boyfriend of mine and his generous mom offer me a spare family vehicle to drive until I get the insurance stuff straightened out and get another car of my own, and I gratefully accept their offer.

So, here we go.  Vehicle #2.

The *first* day I get behind the wheel of this borrowed car to drive to work, I’m about ten miles from home and out of nowhere comes a turkey.  Yes, a turkey.

A TURKEY.

A-turkey-007

[**Note.  This is not the actual turkey.  But this is an accurate portrayal of the look that was on the little jerk’s face as he barreled towards me.]

He side swipes me and…rips off the driver’s side mirror.

Are you freakin kidding me??

Yep.  A turkey just tore up my borrowed vehicle.  So, of course I make what I feel like is the hardest call I’ve ever had to make to Richard and, through my tears, ‘fess up.  And what does he do?  Laughs.  A lot.  It’s not funny!!  I borrow a vehicle and break it in the first ten minutes!  How is that funny??  Still.  He laughs.

Oh, he thinks that’s funny, huh?  Let’s fast forward another two weeks.  Really.  Two tiny little weeks later, I’m driving along in the same borrowed car, now complete with a brand new driver’s side mirror, and what happens?  I turn the wheel to the left going around a curve and…ready for this?…it FALLS OFF.  I’m not exaggerating!!  Ok, I’m exaggerating a little bit.  It didn’t completely come off.  But it fell over.  Apparently this is known as a tie rod end breaking.  Call it what you want, but I call it “Oh crap!”  (And again, maybe crap wasn’t the actual word being used, but no point in digressing yet again…)

So, here comes call #3 to Richard.  (If you’re keeping track, call #1 was totaling my own car.  Call #2 was the turkey.  And now call #3 is telling him his wheel fell off.  And this is all within a matter of 2-3 weeks.  *sigh*)  He didn’t laugh as much this time.  But he did have to come get me.  Again.

Well, after some pretty hefty repair work and Richard driving me to work every day in the interim, I manage to drive his car for a few more weeks without anything else falling off.  And eventually I am even finally able to get the insurance mess worked out and get a car of my very own.  Yay!  After the first few days of a random ‘check engine’ light malfunction (don’t EVEN tell me there’s no such thing as bad luck…), the dealership got everything taken care of and all was well.  Smooth sailing with Vehicle #3…

Until today.

Trash pickup day.

Now, most of you know I am a runner.  I just ran 8+ miles yesterday while working my way up to my second half marathon in November.  You read that, right?  I ran EIGHT miles yesterday.  But you know what I apparently can’t do?  Walk my trash down to the end of my driveway.  Ugh.  It’s sooooo far.  (Read that with your internal whiny voice, because that’s exactly how I just said it.)  Nope.  That 100-foot walk to the end of my driveway is apparently too much for this chick.  Instead, I feel the need to drive it down and drop it off as I leave for work.  And, well, it’s a bag.  Of trash.  I don’t want to put that nasty thing in my cute little car.  Gross.  So, what do I do?

I leave my driver’s side door propped open and back down the driveway holding the bag of trash out of the car.  You with me?  You got the mental image?  You see me backing down a slight declined driveway holding a bag of trash out of my door?  Ok, now picture a huge mound of dirt that I forgot was there.  And then picture my drivers side door catching on that mound of dirt.  Picture me not noticing and continuing to back down the driveway…and picture my door bending BACKWARDS and practically breaking completely off.

Seriously??  SERIOUSLY?

Call #4.  “Richard?  Um.  I just broke my door off of my car…”

*sigh*

Goodbye, Goldie Sue.  (It’s a gold Subaru.  Isn’t that name clever?  Yeah, like that matters to this story…)

IMG_20130924_184206 (2)

So, here we are again.  Richard had to come and get me and take me to the same borrowed vehicle from before and once again save the day by giving me something to drive to work until I get mine repaired.

Story should end there, huh?

Oh no.  Not for Melissa.

On the way home today, the passenger side mirror on the borrowed vehicle that had been just a tad loose all along, decided to go ahead and snap all the way off.  Of course it happens while I’m driving it.

Call #5.  “Um, Richard?  You know that mirror that was loose?  It just broke off.  But it’s NOT MY FAULT….”

Wow.

I’m betting not many of you are going to want to ride with me after reading this blog, huh?  Well, join the club.

Hey, at least I have one living creature that will still come along for the ride…

IMG_20130924_162736 (2)

Bless her heart.

Well, there you have it.  Confessions of a Bad Driver, Volume One.  I’m sure there will be plenty more to come….

Hey, if you can’t laugh at yourself, what can you do?  You know?  Yes, I have some seriously bad luck when it comes to vehicles.  That albatross has apparently found a nice comfy home.

But you know what?  That bad luck only applies to vehicles.  Because look at the rest of my life.  Look at this story alone.  I have a wonderful, patient man who is always there to help me pick up the crazy pieces of my chaotic life and calmly put them all back together.  I walked away from a totaled car with barely a scratch, I have a cute little dog (ok, it’s the neighbor’s but she doesn’t realize that) who loves to go along on car rides with me, and I have wonderful readers who read this blog and come along on this crazy ride and laugh right along with the silly happenings of my never-a-dull-moment life.

Hmmm.

Maybe I’m actually a pretty lucky lady after all.

Well.  That is, if you believe in that kind of thing…

***

“Not many people have had as much bad luck as I have, but not many people have had as much good luck, either.”
– Tig Notaro

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19

Sep. ’13

Writer’s Block

writersblock

“Writing about a writer’s block is better than not writing at all.”
– Charles Bukowski

So, here it is.

I suppose I knew it would happen eventually.  Apparently, it’s finally my turn to get to experience it.  The thing that all writers dread.  The looming creativity sucker that waits patiently to strike your pen when you least expect it.  The ever-dreaded writer’s block.

Crap.

Honestly, I’m not sure it’s ever happened to me before.  My problem has never been not being able to write – it has always been not having time to write.  Give me a few uninterrupted seconds and a keyboard, and this girl will hammer something out in a jiffy.  It may not be something good, mind you.  But at least it would be something.  And to a writer, most days ‘something’ is enough.

Lately, though?  Nothing.

Just nothing.

*sigh*

To be honest, though, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks.  Nothing major has gone wrong really, but a lot of little things had started adding up and I got to the point where I was just overstressed and tired.  So very tired.  My passion was on hiatus.

I was talking to my friend Zoe about this and while I don’t exactly agree with her deeming me ‘amazing’ (but hey, that’s what friends are for, right?), I have given a lot of thought to something that she said.  She told me,

“Being so amazing has its down side.  There has to be periods of recovery… it’s not sustainable otherwise.”

Hmmm.

Again – not calling myself amazing.  But you know what?  I do a lot of stuff.  Or, I did a lot of stuff.  I have been putting forth great effort lately to cut back on the amount of things I have put on my life plate.  And while I know that will be a good choice in the long run, you know what I’ve noticed?  This transition has not been as easy as I thought it would be. This ‘period of recovery’ wasn’t feeling so great.

Before, I had been running on all cylinders.  Full steam ahead, no time to stop and think, just go, go, go.  But then when I consciously forced myself to just stop that – I think I got a little confused.  Suddenly, everything was different.  I was no longer ‘needed’ in all the areas of my life that I thought couldn’t function without me.

Here. Maya Angelou said it better than I ever could:

“Every person needs to take one day away.  A day in which one consciously separates the past from the future.  Jobs, family, employers, and friends can exist one day without any one of us, and if our egos permit us to confess, they could exist eternally in our absence.  Each person deserves a day away in which no problems are confronted, no solutions searched for.  Each of us needs to withdraw from the cares which will not withdraw from us.”

Well, Ms. Angelou, that’s what I did.  I withdrew.  And suddenly I realized that what she said was right – everyone could exist eternally in my absence.

Ouch.

I’ll be honest, that first realization hit me hard.  There I lay on my couch at home and life was continuing all around me.   Races were taking place without my name on the roster.  The next theatre show’s rehearsals continued without my being a part of the cast.  Blogs were still being published without my name on the byline of any of them.  And so on and so forth.  I felt like a face in the crowd.  Just a tiny, unimportant blip in the history of humanity.  What was my purpose?  If my active participation didn’t affect these events, then why had I ever done any of them to start with?

But then.

Well, I don’t know.  Slowly, I think I started to realize something.

Maybe this is not such a bad thing.

We all want to feel important.  We’re lying if we say we don’t.  But I think I spend my life searching for importance in places I didn’t need to be searching.  Yes, it’s fun to be a part of things – to have hobbies and groups that we’re a part of.  But when it comes down to it, you really, truly aren’t going to be missed if you bow out every now and then.  And as someone who tends to lean a little too far to the ‘control freak’ side, it’s actually somewhat freeing to realize that.  I don’t have to do everything.  I really don’t.

Wow.  Who knew!?

So, here I am again.  Climbing my way out of my misguided pit of self-pity and back into my life.  Only this time, that life isn’t going to be quite so cluttered.  And that’s a good thing.

I’m still not exactly sure what I want to write about now that life isn’t filled with so much chaos.  Chaos definitely inspires creativity, that’s for sure.  But I guess this blog entry was a start, right?  Writing about the absence of clutter.  Writing about writer’s block.  Writing about newfound simplicity.

Hmmm.  Well, that wasn’t so hard.

“Your intuition knows what to write, so get out of the way.”
– Ray Bradbury

Ok, Ray.  I hear ya.  I’m gettin’, I’m gettin’….

***

“Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite:
“Fool!” said my muse to me, “look in thy heart, and write.”
– Philip Sidney

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