I have been working for hours trying to put up a Thursday post and it is just not happening. It has been one computer malfunction after another. I finally uploaded the newest version on Internet Explorer because it kept crashing on me when I would switch over from the Edit to Compose mode on here. That did resolve that problem. However, now I can't do anything in the Compose mode. So frustrating. For instance, I can't even get my mouse to highlight any portion of text for any reason. It is midnight and now it is Friday. Technically Friday. I am exhausted in every possible way that a person can be tired. I will get that post out tomorrow. Sometime this weekend I will update you on my dad. And OH YEAH there is lots to tell there. Hence, the overwhelming exhaustion. All of your comments have been so loving and from the heart. Really can't tell you how much kind words mean. Kindness is the one thing we can offer in the face of devastation and loss. Actually, so many times it is the only thing we can offer. You guys have it in abundance. Thank you for showering it on me. I have felt it and appreciated every word. Truly.
Well, I never could get the PUBLISH button to actually publish last night. And I finally gave up. Today, I decided to try and actually finish the "real" post on my step-dad's computer. His computer won't transition between the edit and compose without shutting down, either. Egads. However, I bet this post will publish. I am not giving up. I have a Thursday post and I will find a way to finish it and get it published. I am hoping it is today.
Have you ever noticed that it is feast or famine? When it rains, it pours? That sometimes your life really is a country song? I hear David Allan Coe callng my name....
I know that many people blog simply because they enjoy writing, and this is one venue when others are clogged up, dried up, or feel like danger zones. Yeah, I am talking about those of us who really want to write that novel, but can't quite get a handle on it, so we blog in order to write something. At least that is how this whole thing started. I have discovered that there is a flipside to this blogging reality. And that, my blogging friends, is this: people in the real world are not very nice. There is a very real lack of kindness out there. Have you noticed?
If you have been blogging for any length of time, you may have met some people on here who are more friendly and kinder than anyone you actually know. It is comforting and discouraging, all at the same time. It is a relief to meet someone who is nice. It is horrible that they live in your computer.
I called a friend of mine who lives here on Christmas Eve, her birthday. Turned out not to be a good time. She said to call the next day because her family did everything on Christmas Eve. I called and got the machine. She promised that she would call me back. I left a message saying that I would be up until at least 10pm. Call anytime before then. Never heard back. That day or any day since. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I always was the one who called her. She never calls me. So, I am very undecided about what to do. So far, I am not calling again. Her son is good friends with my ex-husband. I called him (my ex, not her son) to talk about the kids this past weekend. Turns out he was at her house and it sounded like she was having a party. He also said he would call me back. Still waiting on that return phone call, too. There is definitely a part of me that is glad to not be at the top of my ex's priority list... However, common decency does dictate that I would like a call back within 48 hours. We are now well beyond that. And the fact that he made the guest list and I didn't on a party... well, that just sucks. No other word for that.
So today was my annual mammogram. Actually, my first ever. And it wasn't bad. Everyone should go if you are at that age. As in 40 or over. It was yet another dual lesson in kindness. After you get checked in, there is another small waiting room in the back. At a certain point, I knew that I was next. However, about four other women had come in. All of them got called before me and put into dressing rooms. At that time, the tech with my chart came in and saw what had happened. She became really angry because she knew what had happened. I had no idea, but I thought I was supposed to be next. She mumbled something about dressing rooms and said, "We're going to get you a gown and you can change in the room." And that is what she did.
As we got into the room with the machine, she handed me my gown. She told me that I was next in line, but the other techs were trying to beat me to the machine by getting their people into the dressing rooms first. She foiled their plan by taking the room with the machine and locking the door. Apparently, the unwritten rule is that if the person who is next is not "ready," then the following person on the list can supersede them. So, all the techs put their people in dressing rooms to see who could get undressed and into a gown first. It was like sharks in the water. It made my girl mad. Apparently, this was not a working environment where kindness reigned and co-workers looked out for one another. Where has all the kindness gone?
I was trying to explain this to my mom in the car while we were driving to the Sam's shopping complex. She had an exchange to make at Tractor Supply Company, and then we were making a fairly quick stop at Sam's Club. She never did quite grasp the situation. The idea that the co-workers were trying to jump each other in the line for the machines (there were two small plate, one large plate) was an alien concept to her. She simply couldn't wrap her brain around it. She is a "you do it the right way" person. Well, so am I. I would have had a tough time working there. Migraine city.
In the middle of all this, we were dealing with the interstate and merging into traffic. Some yo-yo was right on her tail and she got really upset about it. I was afraid we were going to have a repeat of what I call "the incident" from when I was in junior high. That would be the time some guy flipped off my mom in traffic, and it made her so mad that she rolled down her window, whipped out her middle finger, and shook it at him. She was screaming at the top of her voice, "To you too, buddy." I was holding a vanilla shake from McDonald's that I almost ended up wearing in my lap. That was as close as I had ever come to seeing my mom curse. Ever. My hands went limp and my whole body went into shock. I wasn't able to speak for nearly ten minutes. Like I said, we almost relived that again today. However, this time I was expecting it and I had no shake. A shake would have been nice, come to think of it.
When I first embarked on reading the Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris, I had to reserve the first couple of books at the Main Library, because that is where we were, but I picked them up at our small local library. It is wonderful having this interconnected library system. The Main Library is huge, and the librarians are efficient, but they aren't particularly nice. I suppose it is because they get asked a lot of dumb questions all day long and the line is never ending.
It was a complete change of pace when I walked into our small local library and met you. You were all smiles, very helpful, and made the library feel homey. It reminded me of how I felt about the library when I was a kid. I loved the library. I left the library skipping. Not really. But in my head, I was skipping. I left with a smile on my face and happiness in my heart. It was the same smile you were wearing when I walked in.
When I got the notice that my next set of reserved books were in, I went back to the library to return the ones I had read, and to pick up my new ones. This time you greeted me by name, and with a smile. Wow. I felt like Norm when he walked into Cheers. You helped me figure out which books were next in the series, reserved them, and I left humming.
The next time I came to the library you weren't working, and I felt a bit sad. However, your co-workers are nice. They don't have a smile that lights up like yours, but they share that same desire to help with kindness. Now I know that whenever I go to the library, no matter who is working, that person will reach out and treat me with goodwill. In fact, he or she will go out of his or her way to make sure that I find the book that I am seeking. It is the best customer service I have found in a long, long time.
However, even though I still don't know your name (shame on me), you are still my favorite.
With Greatest Respect,
Me
P.S. I am also guest posting today at Destination Unknown. Nicole is on vacation and I am stepping in to fill the void. I hope you drop in to check it out!
image grifted from Miss Angie at My So-Called Chaos
Let me begin by saying that I love you so much and I appreciate everything that you are doing for me now, as well as everything you have already done. Anytime I have needed anything, I could always count on you to come through for me. You never once made me feel badly about any of this mess. I appreciate that beyond words.
You and I are alike in so many ways. Some of those ways are good and some are not so good. You got sick, like me, by sticking with a job that was causing you chronic stress. In fact, you were just about my age now when it got you. Mom tried to convince you to quit, but you wouldn’t do it. The way you saw it was that there were a few good guys still standing and the bad guys had taken over. You weren’t going to desert the ship. You were going to fight the good fight until the bitter end. And that is just what you did. You literally went down in your office and were taken out by ambulance. Our symptoms were different, but the root problem was the same. I think that you recovered more quickly because you quit that job and you mentally let it go. I haven’t ever been able to quit C-Man and H-Girl or let them go. So, my task is to find a way to manage my life in a non-stressful way.
One of the things that I never really understood about you is the fact that you never really seemed to need anyone. You were always content to be by yourself. I always love my alone time, but like being around other people. Now, I rarely see anyone other than mom and Steve. I am not sure that I like it, but I have allowed myself to accept it. I don’t feel well enough to commit to things in advance, don’t like to drive at night, and I have discovered that my friends aren’t willing to go out of their way to pick me up. It’s telling, really. And that makes me withdraw further. Is that what you knew all along working in the social work business? People care mostly about themselves and don’t really give a care about others. Is that what caused you to pull into yourself and decide that you had limited resources for others?
One other thing I want to say is that I am sorry that your childhood was so hard. I wish that nanny had not had that hyper-thyroid problem when you were a young boy that made her so anxious and sharp. Every noise jangled her nerves. I am sorry that your sister being a toddler was given slack by her father that wasn’t extended to you. I am sorry that you never understood that it wasn’t a question of favoritism, but it was about illness. I am sorry that you still don’t understand the dynamics within your own family. You were your mother’s favorite and that hurt your sister. Your step-father favoring your sister hurt you. All of that set up a snarl of hostility between you and your sister that should never have existed culminating in the two of you disowning each other. I am sorry that you never got the opportunity to forgive each other and she died hating you and loving you and hating you for not loving her. I am sorry that because of your attack in your 40s you have lost chunks of your memory and we can’t even discuss these things because you don’t remember them.
Thank you for re-reminding me how important it is to forgive.
Lastly, I want to tell you how terrified I am that chunks of my memory are going to start to leave me and I am afraid they won’t come back. I am already losing words, spelling, names, and directions to places. So far, they come back. You were only down for about a year. I’ve been down for seven now. When you lose your memory in chunks, you know you are losing it. It isn’t like Alzheimer’s when the person doesn’t know they have lost their mind. I’m scared. And I wanted to tell you because I knew you would understand.
I love you.
Love, Robin
Dear Steve,
My parents have this obligation, sort of, to take me in when the chips are down. I understand that my mother wanting me to come live with you two could have been a major source of friction. Instead, you both welcomed me with open arms. That was a kind and loving thing to do for someone who isn’t family by blood. You have been so generous to me by allowing me to live with you two and asking little in return. You understand and accept my limitations.
A few days ago, you both sat me down and went through some of those legal things that people just don’t like to talk about. However, you both wanted me to know that I would always have a place to live whether you were living or not. And you really threw me a curve when you made me the beneficiary of your life insurance policy in the event that my mother had already passed. You just don’t know how much that kind of thing means. Honestly, I don’t want either one of you to pass before I do because I am just not sure I could take it. I know that you are both thinking in terms of the odds, and chances are that I will outlive you. So, thank you for doing all that you can to take care of me once you are gone. I hope that I am in a position where I am taking care of not only myself, but other people, but that isn’t the point of this letter.
Thank you for the love and all of the kindnesses, big and small. It's like I got a second dad. I love you.
Love, Robin
Dear Mom,
I am not sure when we went from mother and daughter to friends. And then you became my best friend. But, that is what has happened. You are now the first person I want to tell when I get good or bad news. I miss you when you and Steve go on vacation. I tell you that I don't, and that I love having the house to myself, but that's a lie. I miss you. I see you getting older. Heck, I see me getting older. It scares me. I can't imagine living in this world without you in it. When I was a kid, I thought the worst thing in the world would be to turn into you. When I was married to The Operator, I heard my voice saying your words, and I knew that it had happened, despite myself. The thing was this: those words now sounded pretty darn smart. And right. They were a lot more right than they sounded when I was on the receiving end. What I realized was this: as a parent you gave me the precious gifts of consistency, morals/values, and respect.
Mom, you might never see this, but this says better than I could just how I feel about you. Turn off your music player at the bottom of the page.
I love you.
Love, Robin
image hijacked from Miss Angie at My So-Called Chaos
