Each and Every Time

I run into fairly friendly acquaintances and they ask "What have you been up to?" And I try to explain what I have been doing with my time. This is how it goes:

Me: "My mother in law has cancer and it has been very stressful."

Other Person:"Oh, does she live with you?"

Me: "No."

Other Person: "Oh, so you go and see her every day."

Me: "No."

How do you explain a year's worth of being the guardian of a parent, and then becoming their parent?

(And I know that most people just want me to say that I'm fine and they don't want a description and I get that) But sometimes I have to justify (to myself) why I feel so exhausted and worn out.

It is the ups and downs, mostly down, never knowing what is going to happen from month to month, sometimes week to week, and sometimes day to day. And of the challenges and wondering when is "it" going to happen? Watching someone descend into a miserable, painful state of being and yet they are still alive and can remain in the miserable way for an extended period of time.

I thought of how to explain it today.

We have invited GaGa over for lunch tomorrow. She has not been to our house in a while. And a certain level of dread starts to set in. How are things going to go between she and the girls? How much pain is she going to be in? How much thinner is she going to look? How much sense is she going to make as her words don't come to her anymore? Will I have to cut her food like I did last time and then ignore that she is not eating because she has no appetite? Is she going to smile, just once? There is a level of tension so high that it takes a chainsaw to cut through.

It hit me that the description of the "What are you up to?" stress is that when I look at GaGa's frail, shrinking, pained self is that I'm looking at death. I'm not trying to be melodramatic because this is the way it is...

Each and every time I see her.

Every time I talk to her.

Every time I think about her.

Death is always in the back of my mind.

This is not the normal stress of everyday living.

Months ago, when my therapist said she is halfway between life and death, I continue to understand it on deeper and deeper levels. I wonder how much more I have to learn because it keeps coming whether I like it or not. Yet the more I embrace it and examine it, I see God making me stronger. I see little signs, people put in my path that make me smile for a just a moment. And those moments feels oh so sweet.

I laughed and I cried

I have been thinking about Chaz Bono being on Dancing With The Stars from the time I saw a boycott of DWTS on a FaceBook post. All I could think was how brave he is, on so many levels. Another FB "friends" said "HE/SHE IS REALLY GROSS TO ME. I CAN'T STAND TO WATCH HIM DANCE! " and I was repulsed by the words and then thought how very sad for that person and for society. For the very reasons that Chaz disgusts some people, he is heroic to me. And now I know it is okay for me to have that opinion.

I was so moved by this dance, especially knowing his backstory from watching his documentary. He worked to accept himself for who he is, had the courage to change his gender to be in the right body AND that his mother came and supported him after she accepted his transition.

I cheer for his road to authenticity as I cheer my own and anyone else's.

I know his dancing skills are not up there with the best but his spirit shines through. He appears to be a kind, shy man. And afterall, it's a reality show for gosh shakes. Bristol Palin and Kate Gosselin did not stay around for weeks because of their abilities. Chaz will eventually get voted off but in the meantime, I root for him (and a few others!)

“Your time is limited, don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma, which is living the result of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinion drown your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition, they somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

-– Steve Jobs

I didn't really know who he was until he resigned at Apple. Dunham began using Apple computers exclusively, so George and I have been transitioning our home computers and I have become a devotee.

I had read the above quote before and it was a spark for me but after his death I examined it again.

His quote is exactly what my journey of the last few years has been about. I did not know I was trapped in other people's thinking. I had to really examine hardcore what my beliefs were, allow them to come to the surface. I then being paying attention to my intuition when other people's "stuff" in my head began dying down. The "supposed to's"and "should's" fell by the wayside. And it takes time, but so worth it.

50th Anniversary of Breakfast at Tiffany's

I have been fascinated by my last name ever since I met my husband. I thought, seriously, that's your name? Are you kidding? And after 15 years of having said name, every time I have to give it and spell it, I wonder what the response will be from the unsuspecting party and they have been numerous and varied.

The best was when an airline ticketing agent made fun of my last name years ago after it was newly acquired, and could tell he hurt my feelings and he upgraded me to First Class. I say make fun of it all you want now my skin is thicker.

I had never heard of the name until I began dating George and my mother made me aware of the movie and Holly Golightly. And then I caught a showing of it on cable TV where Holly signs a note. And I stared at the screen in disbelief, "that's the name" and my fascination begins.

My now deceased father-in-law told the story when I first met him that he had met Truman Capote back in the 50's. Mr. Charlie had attended college at Penn State and he and his buddies would travel to NYC and see plays and they met Broadway actors who eventually became famous. He also reported that Truman had the eye for his tall blonde buff roommate. Charlie was quite the jokester and liked to be the center of attention so I didn't know whether or not to believe him, and it makes a good story.

Over the years, I have tried to read about Mr. Capote to glean where he came up with the name Golightly but I have not discovered anything concrete. I did read of a libel lawsuit again him from a NYC woman named Bonnie Golightly but nothing came of it. I am reading a book about the making of the movie because in its' time it pushed boundaries and especially with Audrey Hepburn as the star. She was not Truman's first pick, he had wanted Marilyn Monroe and wow, that would have been a different outcome. So my fascination continues and it will have to remain a mystery, and sometimes I've learned it's better left that way.

My love affair with Target

One day last week, I found myself at Target alone, all alone. I love Tar- jay. I didn't know how much I despised Walmart until Tarjay came along. My love affair with Target started twelve+ years ago when we lived in Buffalo. It was an instant attraction.

I am that customer that they market themselves to. It's an upscale Walmart or a low end department store, however you look at it. I can buy kids and adult clothes there that are nice and are made well, but I can also buy a CD or a movie or books at great discounted prices. Those kinds of things cheer me up when retail therapy is needed, and Target can do the trick and not break the bank (well, restraint is still needed). That bullseye just draws me in. They don't even need the word Target and of course, that was by design.

I very rarely go by myself because it is something I can do with the girls and save my sacred alone time while they are in school. Yet I do have to go in drill sargeant mode with them. I keep it moving because we can get distracted or bogged down trying things on, not to mention the toy aisles and it turns into a two hour tour.

So I found myself at Target alone last week. It was just the two of us (and the rest of the morning shoppers). It was a sensual experience. I walked slowly and took my time. I tried on clothes. I looked at housewares. It was so quiet, I had thoughts that came to my mind that I didn't know what to do with. I savored every aisle. It was like I was making love to Target.

 Perhaps I need to plan scheduled rendezvous more often.

Bone Tired But Soul Stirred

I have not been sleeping well lately. Many things are on my mind. There is the everyday running of a household with two young children and a husband whose surgery practice keeps him hopping at all hours of the day and night. My mother in law has been really ill for the last year and now my father is going to begin dialysis at 81 years of age with a bad heart. Mortality is on my mind.

There is no avoiding it under these current circumstances. The idea of meeting my maker and a reflecting on my own life, cements in me my desire to absolutely be who I was born to be, how God made me, to trust who I authentically am. I have worried about what other people think of me for so many years and acted upon those worries and it was completely unnecessary. I never thought to question them as deeply as I have until the last few years. Figuring out who I am and accepting me for me, I have felt a since of peace and freedom for the first time in a very long time, probably since I was very little...

By my bedside, there is a book by Mary O'Malley entitled "The Gift of Our Compulsions." I have read just a little but know I have got something revealing in my hands. Mary describes when we are born, we love ourselves unconditionally. We live in our bodies, and in our hearts and whoever we are is... enough. That idea alone is worth pondering for a few minutes but I go on, Ms. O'Malley states we "lived in full connection with ourselves and our lives." "Life was a magical adventure." She goes on to say as children, we knew "how to keep the joy of life alive by hugging and snuggling, swinging and twirling, dancing and running." And then we veer off for so many reasons including how we were parented, our environment, our Western culture, just life, period.

It was a total aside that I began focusing on "my inner child" in the first place. I just really, really desired to come to grips with my issues with food. I thought about food too many hours of the day and that is not natural or healthy. I started therapy. I read Geneen Roth and then Eckhart Tolle, Melody Beattie, Richard Roth, Gary Zukav, and on and on. I don't read through all of each book but I read just enough to get the sense of what they are saying and I hear the same brilliant messages again and again using different phraseology and I feel like I am at home. I have continual aha's that give me understanding and clarity. I have also experienced rounds of intuitive eating that are effortless and well, quite miraculous when I have felt controlled by food for the last few years. I am seeing how all of the pieces come together, but also that this journey and the learning will be for the rest of my life.

We are planning my eldest's 9th birthday party. She wants to sing karaoke among other things. After Riley and I sang and danced to a few fun songs like "We Are Family" and "Saturday In The Park" I spied a song that I forget about but I really get into it when I hear it. It is the song "And I'm not Leaving" from "Dreamgirls." I could go on about the Jennifer Hudson vs Jennifer Holiday debate but I went with the one with the better music.

My aforementioned inner child delights in singing and dancing to this song, I come ALIVE. I am still amazed how this happens when music stirs my soul. My pasty white English/Irish self tries to channel any if at all soul diva I have inside of me to belt it out. Riley tells me not to dance while I'm singing and I can tell the teen years are going to be challenging because I have to move when my soul is stirred these days. It is really hard not to move when the music is on.

A First World Problem

I have a bookshelf next to my bed, it's a comfort to me. And I have magazines piled on top of the bookshelf gathering dust and cluttering. This is not a comfort. I have known for a few years now that if I don't read the magazine when it first comes through the door, it is not going to be read. Even with that bit of knowledge, I don't act on cancelling the subscriptions or getting rid of the issues in a timely manner. Why?

I have new cleaning ladies coming in this week for the first time in a few months. So I am running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, trying to get EVERYTHING picked up. And this is how it goes....

I walk into the laundry room to put batteries in a toy for Mallory who is sick at home. I see the cat litter box needs cleaning and make a mental note. I look in the washing machine and there are wet clean clothes. I open the dryer and see dry wrinkled clothes so I turn on the steam cycle. I walk back to the kitchen to wash dishes and Mallory asks me for the toy I put down in the laundry room with the new batteries. I go back to get it and the timer has gone off on the dryer, and then I see the towels that need to be washed. And Mallory has a food request which I take care of and then see the dirty dishes. I remember the clothes that are warm and walk and sit down in my bedroom to fold what was in the dryer and flip on the television which reminds of something to look up on the internet, which I do. And then I go back to the clothes and notice the pile of magazines on top of my bookshelf. This goes on and on and I am mentally worn out.

And I get it, I have to stay on task, and it seems like my anxiety of getting "everything" done works itself out by me running around like that chicken without a head. First of all, I shouldn't be doing the laundry because the laundry has nothing to do with the house being picked up for them to clean. Secondly, I need to pick one room at a time and focus (except for Mallory's needs). So yesterday, I look at the pile of magazines and they are so appealing.

The titles call to me, "Spring Cleaning Shortcuts", "Organizing Solutions for Every Room" "Energize your Life" I love the IDEA of them. The titles CALL out to me. But the magazines lie around and cause me stress. And then when I do work to get rid of them it is in a PERFECT way... First, I must donate them so somebody else can gain benefit from reading them. I choose which ones I can part with, then ask Riley to black out our address, then bring them to George's attention in a pile so that he can bring them to the hospital waiting room.

Why does it have to be so perfectly handled?

Looking at the title, "organizing solutions" I thought... my freaking solution is to dump these directly in the recycle bin and cut out all of the other steps, which is... what... I... did. And it felt good. With some hesitation that I am missing out on some information in those magazines. And I ponder on the idea some more. My answers are not in these magazines. I did stop and glance at the one article that I'm holding onto the magazine for and it tells me nothing new. It's not like I can't find the information somewhere else or on the internet when I really need it. I've already listened to the experts, I've watched Peter Walsh, I've watched Clean House. I just need to get "the stuff" out of my house AND not bring any more in.

But boiling it all down, the answer is in me. I'm looking towards these experts and the external when the answers are internal. I'm putting my faith in some expert out "there" instead of myself. I am just learning to trust my instinct the last few years and getting rid of all of the "should's", "supposed to's" and other faulty logic. The answers have been within me all along. I am trusting myself more and more and the distracting unproductive thoughts are falling by the wayside. And the more I trust me, the more I can focus to think out of the box and find new ways to handle old problems.

(The title is thanks to my good friend who uses this term when our problems are not the basics like food, shelter, running water, etc.)