For the past few days, a voice in my head has constantly reminded me of my grandmother’s birthday this coming Monday – for some reason, I have been moved to reach out to my sister and cousins to come together for a celebration. My grandmother was born on December 15, 1898 – 110 years ago – and I can’t get her out of my mind this week.
This isn’t surprising to me – she lived with us during my growing up years and was a tremendous force in my life – providing loving security and all of the lessons needed by a girl child of the 1950’s to grow into a “lady” with morals and faith and “manners.” She was far from perfect, and as I grew up I recognized her flaws as powerfully as I appreciated her love, but her voice forever speaks to me as I make crucial decisions in my own life.
In earlier blogs, I have mentioned that I share the daily care of my grandson, Lucas, with his other grandmother, Sheryl. We each have him at our separate homes two days a week, and spend Wednesday at my house, giving Lucas and my granddaughter, Alivia, a double dose of grandmothering. I jokingly call it “doubles day”. This arrangement works out wonderfully for Lucas – he is secure and happy, and always surrounded with the loving faces he knows so well.
Sheryl and I have become very close friends since our children were married, and we enjoy sharing this precious time with our grandson. Our day together is filled with conversation and laughter, and we handle the stresses with grace. Sheryl often says that we “zig and zag” well together.
Over the past few days, as I was pondering this strong feeling of my grandmother’s upcoming birthday, I also thought about Sheryl’s stories of growing up with her grandmothers. Both of them lived with her for a long period of time during her childhood, and had a strong influence on her – passing on a deep religious faith, a love of crafts and needlework, and a loving security.
I wonder if being raised with grandmothers intimately involved in our lives has made us more determined to care for our own grandchildren. Maybe on some level we are called to pass on the love and security that they provided to us – we realize the importance of their unconditional love and will perpetuate this grandmotherly love for another generation.
These three women, who have been gone from our lives now for a long time, are still alive in our hearts, and passing on the greatest possible gift to their own great-great-grandchildren – a grandmother’s love and care.
Happy Birthday, Grandma!!!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
A Time to Mourn
Black Friday – this day has taken on an entirely new meaning for me. Yesterday our family celebrated the perfect Thanksgiving – my sister-in-law prepared a delicious meal and all of us gathered together in her warm and lovely home. My grandbabies were so adorable I had to pinch myself to believe they were really mine, and my older grandson looked so handsome and grown up. It was a day that will live in my memory as one of the very best!
I arrived home early in the evening, and proceeded to begin my Christmas decorating – treasuring the memories as I unpacked each ornament – my St. Nicholas collection, my tiny birds, and my tree decorations so lovingly chosen through the years. By bedtime, my home was transformed.
This morning my daughter and daughters-in-law hurried out to enjoy the Black Friday sales, and I had a bit of time with my sons and grandbabies. It began as a totally relaxing and enjoyable morning.
However, within a few moments in time, our Friday indeed turned “Black”. My son’s best friend, a “son of the heart” to me, lost his father to suicide. A sudden death is always a shock and heartbreak, but this was especially painful, both because of the tragic circumstances, and because this family has also lost two beloved grandmothers within the past two years.
When we are fortunate enough in life to share close bonds of friendship and love, we also share the deep sorrows that go along with these bonds. My son is grieving tonight for a man who treated him like a son, and my daughter grieves for this “almost brother” who has lost his father. I grieve for the intense agony of this entire family, who, through the years, has become so dear to me. And, as we always do in these situations, I wonder if there was anything I could have done at any point to help this troubled man.
Last year on this same day, Black Friday, my daughter lost an “almost brother” in a tragic motor vehicle accident – his sisters were her best friends, and even though an entire year had passed, in her heart today she was also reliving that tremendous loss. Tonight I want to hold my daughter and comfort her for both of these terrible losses in her young life – and yet I know this is not a pain I can “kiss away.”
Unfortunately, there are so many times in life when there is nothing we can do, other than to be close by – to listen and reassure, to give hugs and hold hands, and to cry and grieve along with those we love -- and to place our troubled hearts into the gentle hands of God.
It will also be a long time, I’m sure, before my daughter and I will be able to look forward to Thanksgiving without worrying about the day after, which has over the past two years become our virtual “Black Friday”.
I arrived home early in the evening, and proceeded to begin my Christmas decorating – treasuring the memories as I unpacked each ornament – my St. Nicholas collection, my tiny birds, and my tree decorations so lovingly chosen through the years. By bedtime, my home was transformed.
This morning my daughter and daughters-in-law hurried out to enjoy the Black Friday sales, and I had a bit of time with my sons and grandbabies. It began as a totally relaxing and enjoyable morning.
However, within a few moments in time, our Friday indeed turned “Black”. My son’s best friend, a “son of the heart” to me, lost his father to suicide. A sudden death is always a shock and heartbreak, but this was especially painful, both because of the tragic circumstances, and because this family has also lost two beloved grandmothers within the past two years.
When we are fortunate enough in life to share close bonds of friendship and love, we also share the deep sorrows that go along with these bonds. My son is grieving tonight for a man who treated him like a son, and my daughter grieves for this “almost brother” who has lost his father. I grieve for the intense agony of this entire family, who, through the years, has become so dear to me. And, as we always do in these situations, I wonder if there was anything I could have done at any point to help this troubled man.
Last year on this same day, Black Friday, my daughter lost an “almost brother” in a tragic motor vehicle accident – his sisters were her best friends, and even though an entire year had passed, in her heart today she was also reliving that tremendous loss. Tonight I want to hold my daughter and comfort her for both of these terrible losses in her young life – and yet I know this is not a pain I can “kiss away.”
Unfortunately, there are so many times in life when there is nothing we can do, other than to be close by – to listen and reassure, to give hugs and hold hands, and to cry and grieve along with those we love -- and to place our troubled hearts into the gentle hands of God.
It will also be a long time, I’m sure, before my daughter and I will be able to look forward to Thanksgiving without worrying about the day after, which has over the past two years become our virtual “Black Friday”.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Oh What A Night!!
OH WHAT A NIGHT!!!
I have agonized over the election this year because of my personal economic situation, and my total disillusionment with Republican administrations during the past thirty years, from Reagan to Bush to Bush!
When Al Gore lost to George Bush in 2000, I was devastated, and the past eight years of “George W reign” has justified my worries a hundred-fold – the loss of our civil rights, the loss of our respect on a global basis, the unjust war in Iraq, the blurring of lines between executive, legislative & judicial branches which has damaged the checks & balances system of our government, and now, the economic meltdown.
I also must admit - and I don’t think it is a bad characteristic – when I first heard Obama speak at the 2004 Democratic Convention and was so totally inspired by him, I didn’t “see” his color. In general, I don’t see people “in color”, which is probably unusual when I grew up in a town that was known as a white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant (WASP) community. As I learned more about Obama, I respected his intelligence, depth of thought, calm demeanor, and empathy for the common people of this world. I wanted him to be our President. I don’t think the fact that Obama was an African-American really became important to me until he won the primary. Then I began to worry that the inherent racism in this country might cause him to lose the election.
It was about at the same time that I began to think what a wonderful role model he would be for the African-American youth of our country, who often see no real opportunities in their futures. But, still, I didn’t “get it”. I didn’t realize what a powerful event his election would be for our citizens of color.
Last night I was watching avidly for election results, my nerves on edge, but it became a much more emotional night than I had expected. Watching the crowds and listening to the interviews, I was awed by the tremendous jubilation of his supporters, especially African-Americans. As I saw Jesse Jackson standing in the Chicago crowd with tears streaming down his face, and listened to the incredulous joy of generations of African-Americans, I finally realized that this victory was not just a victory of Democrat over Republican; it was finally a validation that we are all created equal and that there is now opportunity in this country for the tiniest little child of African-American or Arab or Asian or Hispanic descent to reach the loftiest heights that at one time were open only to white males. Oh what gates have been opened --
May God Bless America and our newly elected President and Vice-President!!
I have agonized over the election this year because of my personal economic situation, and my total disillusionment with Republican administrations during the past thirty years, from Reagan to Bush to Bush!
When Al Gore lost to George Bush in 2000, I was devastated, and the past eight years of “George W reign” has justified my worries a hundred-fold – the loss of our civil rights, the loss of our respect on a global basis, the unjust war in Iraq, the blurring of lines between executive, legislative & judicial branches which has damaged the checks & balances system of our government, and now, the economic meltdown.
I also must admit - and I don’t think it is a bad characteristic – when I first heard Obama speak at the 2004 Democratic Convention and was so totally inspired by him, I didn’t “see” his color. In general, I don’t see people “in color”, which is probably unusual when I grew up in a town that was known as a white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant (WASP) community. As I learned more about Obama, I respected his intelligence, depth of thought, calm demeanor, and empathy for the common people of this world. I wanted him to be our President. I don’t think the fact that Obama was an African-American really became important to me until he won the primary. Then I began to worry that the inherent racism in this country might cause him to lose the election.
It was about at the same time that I began to think what a wonderful role model he would be for the African-American youth of our country, who often see no real opportunities in their futures. But, still, I didn’t “get it”. I didn’t realize what a powerful event his election would be for our citizens of color.
Last night I was watching avidly for election results, my nerves on edge, but it became a much more emotional night than I had expected. Watching the crowds and listening to the interviews, I was awed by the tremendous jubilation of his supporters, especially African-Americans. As I saw Jesse Jackson standing in the Chicago crowd with tears streaming down his face, and listened to the incredulous joy of generations of African-Americans, I finally realized that this victory was not just a victory of Democrat over Republican; it was finally a validation that we are all created equal and that there is now opportunity in this country for the tiniest little child of African-American or Arab or Asian or Hispanic descent to reach the loftiest heights that at one time were open only to white males. Oh what gates have been opened --
May God Bless America and our newly elected President and Vice-President!!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
A Legacy of Roots
What a lovely day for a walk -- warm sunshine and cool breezes, brilliantly colored trees, and two precious babies snuggled into their “twin” stroller.
Actually, the morning which preceded our walk was less than perfect. At best, juggling naptimes and bottles for babies ten months apart is not easy, and this morning was not one of our better mornings. By lunchtime, my sleepless grandson finally fell asleep over his strained carrots, only to be wakened by his giggling little cousin a half hour later as she toddled over to the cradle to peek at him.
It was at this point that I threw up my hands, got the stroller out, zipped them into sweatshirts, and set off to enjoy a bit of serenity. They were ecstatic – they both love the outdoors. Of course, Alivia loves it with the vivacious excitement with which she greets life in general, and Lucas loves to sit quietly and gaze around with his big blue eyes, a look of complete satisfaction on his little face.
We walked along, Alivia alternately bouncing in her seat, pointing out squirrels and babbling to Lucas. We stopped along the way to talk to my neighbor and her baby granddaughter, also out for a stroll. We took an old familiar route – when you’ve lived in a neighborhood for thirty-six years, every route is familiar – and as I walked in the calming autumn air, looking at the Halloween decorations and the beautiful colors of the landscape, memories accompanied me.
I remembered the years when my children were young – the pleasures of holiday celebrations, my years as Scout leader and room mother, the everyday routines of meals and homework and conversation, the paper routes and the summer jobs and the school dances. I remember driving a group of girls to one of my daughter’s high school dances, and realizing that most of them had been in my Daisy Girl Scout troop in kindergarten. Time passes so quickly. I remember the importance of creating memories for all of these precious children --
There are times when I feel a bit provincial, having lived in one town for my entire life. But, this afternoon I was feeling grateful. There is a comfort of sorts in living in an area where many people have also stayed on for years – to know them, and their children, and to “catch up” on each other’s lives when we meet in the grocery store, or on an autumn afternoon walk.
In today’s uncertain world, this is a blessing -- to know and to be known. And, it is a blessing that I will share with my grandbabies, as we head out on our walks and meet these people who knew their fathers when they were little. They will realize that they are part of a larger family -- this feeling of belonging will bring a measure of security as they navigate life in our impersonal global society.
Actually, the morning which preceded our walk was less than perfect. At best, juggling naptimes and bottles for babies ten months apart is not easy, and this morning was not one of our better mornings. By lunchtime, my sleepless grandson finally fell asleep over his strained carrots, only to be wakened by his giggling little cousin a half hour later as she toddled over to the cradle to peek at him.
It was at this point that I threw up my hands, got the stroller out, zipped them into sweatshirts, and set off to enjoy a bit of serenity. They were ecstatic – they both love the outdoors. Of course, Alivia loves it with the vivacious excitement with which she greets life in general, and Lucas loves to sit quietly and gaze around with his big blue eyes, a look of complete satisfaction on his little face.
We walked along, Alivia alternately bouncing in her seat, pointing out squirrels and babbling to Lucas. We stopped along the way to talk to my neighbor and her baby granddaughter, also out for a stroll. We took an old familiar route – when you’ve lived in a neighborhood for thirty-six years, every route is familiar – and as I walked in the calming autumn air, looking at the Halloween decorations and the beautiful colors of the landscape, memories accompanied me.
I remembered the years when my children were young – the pleasures of holiday celebrations, my years as Scout leader and room mother, the everyday routines of meals and homework and conversation, the paper routes and the summer jobs and the school dances. I remember driving a group of girls to one of my daughter’s high school dances, and realizing that most of them had been in my Daisy Girl Scout troop in kindergarten. Time passes so quickly. I remember the importance of creating memories for all of these precious children --
There are times when I feel a bit provincial, having lived in one town for my entire life. But, this afternoon I was feeling grateful. There is a comfort of sorts in living in an area where many people have also stayed on for years – to know them, and their children, and to “catch up” on each other’s lives when we meet in the grocery store, or on an autumn afternoon walk.
In today’s uncertain world, this is a blessing -- to know and to be known. And, it is a blessing that I will share with my grandbabies, as we head out on our walks and meet these people who knew their fathers when they were little. They will realize that they are part of a larger family -- this feeling of belonging will bring a measure of security as they navigate life in our impersonal global society.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Sharing Grandma Day Care
Last autumn I began caring for my baby granddaughter, Alivia, from Monday through Thursday, while her mother is at work; at the same time, my other son and his wife announced that they were pregnant, and Lucas was born in May of this year. Two incredible gifts from God in one year!! But, for a grandmother who is providing day care and also trying to keep a struggling business alive, this is a juggling act that is tiring, to say the least.
I have been blessed, though. Lucas's other grandmother, Sheryl, who is a retired teacher, stepped in with her help and love. Sheryl takes care of Lucas at her house on Thursdays & Fridays, and comes to my house on Wednesdays to help me with both babies. This is a tremendous blessing, because caring for babies who are ten months apart is not an easy task for an almost-60 year old woman.
Fortunately, Sheryl and I bonded almost immediately when my son and her daughter became a couple. We share similar values and family experiences, and enjoy being together, so this "co-care" is also pleasurable for us.
After this long introduction, I want to share the past week in our grandma care endeavor. Last weekend, Lucas was very fussy and didn't seem well -- Sheryl and I volunteered to take him to the doctor on Monday. His mother is a teacher, and cannot easily take time out of her day without prior planning, and his father has a similar situation in his job.
It would be difficult for me to take both babies to the doctor alone at this point, because Alivia has been walking for only a couple of months, so getting both babies into the car and into the doctor's office would be quite a challenge.
So, Sheryl came over Monday morning, and we proceeded to the doctor's office.
Sheryl and I both had three children, and handled them and our busy lives very efficiently when we were in our 20's and 30's. Monday was an "eye opener" for us both, though. I live 3 minutes from the doctor's office, so we allotted fifteen minutes to get them into the car and to to the doctor. We barely made it! Getting them both into the car with today's car seats took more time than we expected. Sheryl sat in the back seat with them, because both seats were side by side, and Alivia has a tendency to "touch" Lucas's eyes, so to be safe, Sheryl stood guard.
Just as we were ready to go, we realized I had to move Sheryl's car in order to back my car out -- then we spent a minute or two looking for Sheryl's keys, which I had in my hand --
We backed out of the driveway, and arrived in the doctor's parking lot -- which, of course, was full. Parking, and getting both babies out of the seats and into the office was time-consuming -- and we both reminded each other -- we used to do this with three children with NO PROBLEMS!!!
Once in the doctor's office, Sheryl took Lucas and I took Alivia -- Alivia clung to me, because she had memories of her recent visit when she received vaccinations and blood tests. Lucas was the best patient imaginable while they took his temperature and weighed him -- but, somehow between the scale and the examining table, he began screaming, and screaming and screaming. Nothing we could do would stop him. The doctor came in and checked his ears and throat and lungs, and the screaming continued.
Unfortunately, with our 60-year-old ears, Sheryl and I struggled to hear the doctor. I was on the other side of the room with Alivia, so I could hear more, but it was definitely not easy. Such a scream from one little baby boy.
Alas, everything was okay, and we were reassured. We dressed him, as the screams continued, and thanked the doctor. Then, we strapped them both back into their seats, with Sheryl once again guarding Lucas against Alivia's wandering fingers, and came back home. Out of the car, into the house, and a cup of tea later, we were settled in again, rocking the babies peacefully.
Somehow, as we age, we don't really see the physical and mental changes -- they are gradual, and our life situations change accordingly. Jumping back into child care, though, is an eye-opener. Sheryl and I have shared alot of laughs in the short time we have been doing this -- who would have thought that two intelligent, energetic mothers of three children would someday find sharing the care of two babies such a challenge!!
I have been blessed, though. Lucas's other grandmother, Sheryl, who is a retired teacher, stepped in with her help and love. Sheryl takes care of Lucas at her house on Thursdays & Fridays, and comes to my house on Wednesdays to help me with both babies. This is a tremendous blessing, because caring for babies who are ten months apart is not an easy task for an almost-60 year old woman.
Fortunately, Sheryl and I bonded almost immediately when my son and her daughter became a couple. We share similar values and family experiences, and enjoy being together, so this "co-care" is also pleasurable for us.
After this long introduction, I want to share the past week in our grandma care endeavor. Last weekend, Lucas was very fussy and didn't seem well -- Sheryl and I volunteered to take him to the doctor on Monday. His mother is a teacher, and cannot easily take time out of her day without prior planning, and his father has a similar situation in his job.
It would be difficult for me to take both babies to the doctor alone at this point, because Alivia has been walking for only a couple of months, so getting both babies into the car and into the doctor's office would be quite a challenge.
So, Sheryl came over Monday morning, and we proceeded to the doctor's office.
Sheryl and I both had three children, and handled them and our busy lives very efficiently when we were in our 20's and 30's. Monday was an "eye opener" for us both, though. I live 3 minutes from the doctor's office, so we allotted fifteen minutes to get them into the car and to to the doctor. We barely made it! Getting them both into the car with today's car seats took more time than we expected. Sheryl sat in the back seat with them, because both seats were side by side, and Alivia has a tendency to "touch" Lucas's eyes, so to be safe, Sheryl stood guard.
Just as we were ready to go, we realized I had to move Sheryl's car in order to back my car out -- then we spent a minute or two looking for Sheryl's keys, which I had in my hand --
We backed out of the driveway, and arrived in the doctor's parking lot -- which, of course, was full. Parking, and getting both babies out of the seats and into the office was time-consuming -- and we both reminded each other -- we used to do this with three children with NO PROBLEMS!!!
Once in the doctor's office, Sheryl took Lucas and I took Alivia -- Alivia clung to me, because she had memories of her recent visit when she received vaccinations and blood tests. Lucas was the best patient imaginable while they took his temperature and weighed him -- but, somehow between the scale and the examining table, he began screaming, and screaming and screaming. Nothing we could do would stop him. The doctor came in and checked his ears and throat and lungs, and the screaming continued.
Unfortunately, with our 60-year-old ears, Sheryl and I struggled to hear the doctor. I was on the other side of the room with Alivia, so I could hear more, but it was definitely not easy. Such a scream from one little baby boy.
Alas, everything was okay, and we were reassured. We dressed him, as the screams continued, and thanked the doctor. Then, we strapped them both back into their seats, with Sheryl once again guarding Lucas against Alivia's wandering fingers, and came back home. Out of the car, into the house, and a cup of tea later, we were settled in again, rocking the babies peacefully.
Somehow, as we age, we don't really see the physical and mental changes -- they are gradual, and our life situations change accordingly. Jumping back into child care, though, is an eye-opener. Sheryl and I have shared alot of laughs in the short time we have been doing this -- who would have thought that two intelligent, energetic mothers of three children would someday find sharing the care of two babies such a challenge!!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Economic Meltdown From a Personal Perspective
The economic meltdown in our nation this past week has many Americans on the edge of their seats, worrying and wondering. Not only are we worried about what will happen, the majority of us do not understand enough about economics to even comprehend the issues involved.
In my middle-class neighborhood and among my close friends, most of the fears involve the safety of their investments and retirement funds. None of them are facing bankruptcy or unable to pay for groceries like so many lower income Americans.
However, my fears at the moment are more immediate. After a few years of relative financial health, we have suffered significant loss of income and mounting of debt as we struggled to maintain our family business during a bleak two years of markedly decreased sales. My life as I know it, and my beloved family home are at stake.
I have experienced first-hand the negative impact of a credit & banking industry with little regulation. In one month, the monthly payment on one of our business lines of credit increased $300.00, due to an arbitrary jump in our finance charge. We have not been late or missed payments on our loans & credit cards, but these companies have the right to raise the finance charges at will if your overall debt to income ratio rises. This is not only unfair, it should be illegal.
To me, this is probably one of the reasons so many people in our nation are in deep trouble with credit card debt. It is impossible to maintain a budget when a bank can drastically raise your interest rate at will on an existing balance.
Anyway, I certainly hope the coming elections will populate our Congress with people who place value on the financial success of the average citizen and begin to reign in the greed of corporate America. "Trickle down economics", the brainchild of the Republicans, does not work in a greedy society.
I am finding it more and more difficult to relax and find the inner peace that is so necessary to me. Normally, a walk in my lovely garden or watching the sunrise from my quiet porch rejuvenates my soul -- now these simple pleasures are overshadowed by the pervasive fear that I may lose this old home that is so precious to me.
In my middle-class neighborhood and among my close friends, most of the fears involve the safety of their investments and retirement funds. None of them are facing bankruptcy or unable to pay for groceries like so many lower income Americans.
However, my fears at the moment are more immediate. After a few years of relative financial health, we have suffered significant loss of income and mounting of debt as we struggled to maintain our family business during a bleak two years of markedly decreased sales. My life as I know it, and my beloved family home are at stake.
I have experienced first-hand the negative impact of a credit & banking industry with little regulation. In one month, the monthly payment on one of our business lines of credit increased $300.00, due to an arbitrary jump in our finance charge. We have not been late or missed payments on our loans & credit cards, but these companies have the right to raise the finance charges at will if your overall debt to income ratio rises. This is not only unfair, it should be illegal.
To me, this is probably one of the reasons so many people in our nation are in deep trouble with credit card debt. It is impossible to maintain a budget when a bank can drastically raise your interest rate at will on an existing balance.
Anyway, I certainly hope the coming elections will populate our Congress with people who place value on the financial success of the average citizen and begin to reign in the greed of corporate America. "Trickle down economics", the brainchild of the Republicans, does not work in a greedy society.
I am finding it more and more difficult to relax and find the inner peace that is so necessary to me. Normally, a walk in my lovely garden or watching the sunrise from my quiet porch rejuvenates my soul -- now these simple pleasures are overshadowed by the pervasive fear that I may lose this old home that is so precious to me.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Heart Engravings
"Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me." This was a popular playground chant when I was a child. I think even then I knew that it was far from the truth.
The hurtful things we say, whether purposefully or thoughtlessly, impact others tremendously. I was fortunate to grow up in a family where we were taught to weigh our words before we spoke, and to value the feelings of others.
As a tall, chubby young girl who was often "teacher's pet", I learned first-hand that people could be cruel in their comments. Fortunately, though, my home was my safe haven, and my mother always lovingly reassured me of my self-worth.
We are taught to forgive and forget, but somehow, hurtful words are engraved in our hearts, and even though we may forgive the speaker of those words, we can never really forget what was said. We move on and focus on the blessings of our lives to keep ourselves emotionally healthy, but we don't ever totally forget.
Unfortunately, even though I have been blessed with wonderful children and grandchildren, my marriage has been difficult. My husband is often depressed and unhappy, and has always felt justified in venting his anger verbally to the very ones who loved him.
At this stage in my life, for the most part, I have moved on emotionally and find my contentment and fulfillment in my children, grandchildren and friends, my home and gardens, and the many pursuits which fill my heart and mind with pleasure.
This week, though, I was totally shocked at a comment he made unexpectedly -- calling me a "cast iron bitch". I don't really know what provoked the comment, or why I reacted so deeply to it, but it has haunted me all week, casting a shadow over my happiness. My first reaction was shock, my second reaction was to question whether there is a basis for his comment, and my third reaction was to ask other people for their opinions. But to this moment, I can't get it out of my mind --
For the most part now, I am trying to move past it -- to concentrate on the good things in my life, and not let his demons diminish my emotional health and happiness. But, once again, I am reminded of the scars we carry in our hearts from the hurtful words of others.
I would like to share a quote that speaks to my soul:
"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." -- Maya Angelou
May we all hold that thought in our minds in our daily interactions with loved ones, friends and acquaintances --
The hurtful things we say, whether purposefully or thoughtlessly, impact others tremendously. I was fortunate to grow up in a family where we were taught to weigh our words before we spoke, and to value the feelings of others.
As a tall, chubby young girl who was often "teacher's pet", I learned first-hand that people could be cruel in their comments. Fortunately, though, my home was my safe haven, and my mother always lovingly reassured me of my self-worth.
We are taught to forgive and forget, but somehow, hurtful words are engraved in our hearts, and even though we may forgive the speaker of those words, we can never really forget what was said. We move on and focus on the blessings of our lives to keep ourselves emotionally healthy, but we don't ever totally forget.
Unfortunately, even though I have been blessed with wonderful children and grandchildren, my marriage has been difficult. My husband is often depressed and unhappy, and has always felt justified in venting his anger verbally to the very ones who loved him.
At this stage in my life, for the most part, I have moved on emotionally and find my contentment and fulfillment in my children, grandchildren and friends, my home and gardens, and the many pursuits which fill my heart and mind with pleasure.
This week, though, I was totally shocked at a comment he made unexpectedly -- calling me a "cast iron bitch". I don't really know what provoked the comment, or why I reacted so deeply to it, but it has haunted me all week, casting a shadow over my happiness. My first reaction was shock, my second reaction was to question whether there is a basis for his comment, and my third reaction was to ask other people for their opinions. But to this moment, I can't get it out of my mind --
For the most part now, I am trying to move past it -- to concentrate on the good things in my life, and not let his demons diminish my emotional health and happiness. But, once again, I am reminded of the scars we carry in our hearts from the hurtful words of others.
I would like to share a quote that speaks to my soul:
"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." -- Maya Angelou
May we all hold that thought in our minds in our daily interactions with loved ones, friends and acquaintances --
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