Promises, Promises

New Year’s Resolutions – Have you made one?  I’ve gotten to a point I don’t make resolutions, I just say I’m going to do better than I did before.  So many of us start out with good intentions, our ‘who-we-need-to-forgive-or-ask-forgiveness’ lists, our fitness goals, our healthier eating goals … and let’s not forget our 30-60-90 day challenges.   The many fitness centers eagerly awaiting our arrival as we promise to get fit for just one dollar … only to have those things slowly fall to the wayside.

Part of my vacation included organizing my home office.  I’m sitting here right now, surrounded by mountains of diet cookbooks, exercise books, healthy-living pamphlets, exercise DVDs, meditation CDs and half-used journals.  All of these items accumulated over the years … each one a different end of the year resolution.  I have self-help books on every subject, how-to books, inspirational books, home improvement books and even books on how to write books … all purchased with good intentions for a new year.  Even with all that, I forgot the most important thing, improving myself from within.  

I’ve said I don’t make resolutions however, now I do make promises … to myself.  These promises are supposed to keep me on track, hold me accountable, make me a better person and improve my inner-self.  I have promised myself I will attend bible study in the coming year and that I will not allow people to schedule things that could conflict with that night.  That’s something I can control.  And that’s another promise I made to myself, take back control of my life … both in and out of the home.  Most importantly, I have promised myself I will live the life I encourage others to live.  It is crazy that I tell someone else how or what they should do yet not apply this advice in my own life (physician heal thyself).

So I’ve made a conscious decision, not a resolution - While I’m working (slowly) on my outer-self I am also working on my inner-self.

You Just Don't Know ...

One of my favorite voices has always been Phyllis Hyman.  Her deep, soulful sound seemed to touch me in places no other voice could reach.  Many of her songs spoke to things in my life and I’d always find myself running the lyrics through my head or humming softly as I went about my day.  One in particular has really stuck with me lately ….

You just don't know what I've been going through, You just don't know how I've been missing you
You just don't know how glad I am that you're back, You just don't know, you just don't know

You just don't know all these tears I've cried, You just don't know how I feel inside
You just don't know how good it feels to have you back …

Those beginning lines are the ones I have realized I constantly sing … out loud; so much so my hubby has started humming the song and can’t figure out why.  I think it’s the holiday season that makes us more cognizant of what we ‘feel’ we are missing in our lives, our jobs, our relationships … our homes … as we look longingly at others who appear to have everything together.  Now with social media it’s even more painful as we see picture after picture of perfect couples, perfect families, perfect homes and oh-so perfect pets.  I think we forget social media allows (now more than ever) to put on the face we want everyone to see.  We forget no one is perfect.  Every family, every relationship … has issues … I mean … really … even the Cosby family had “Cousin Pam” (made myself giggle).

I have never found myself wishing I had the type of relationship someone else had/has, but I have heard women (and a few men) say they wished for my relationship.  This, of course, would leave me speechless and immediately I would begin to mentally re-evaluate how I portrayed my relationship.  I have always told myself I don’t put up a fake or phony show for people … it is what it is … but I do give credit where credit is due and my hubby is a great partner on his good days.  I think people tend to only hear the good stuff and trash everything else.  I have always tried to be honest and I have never over-romanticized anything … again … it is what it is.  One of the stories I know people love to hear is how we reconnected.  They get all teary-eyed and end with ‘you two were meant to be together’.  Some days I agree and some days I don’t.

Whenever I talk to people about relationships I always remind them to become friends first and let the physical aspect be the bonus.  When I met my hubby the first time he was in the military.  Slim waist, broad, muscular shoulders, beautiful thighs and very athletic.  I was always a full-figured girl and around that time I had toned a bit, so I was a very shapely thing.  The second time we met (13 years later) we both had put on a few pounds, moved a little slower, but overall … we were pretty good.  The physical does fade away.  Thankfully we developed a friendship; we learned we could keep each other laughing.

That friendship has come in very handy over these 11 plus years.  I have a very little patience for drama, do NOT like to argue and don’t like to be controlled.  All of these things are found within our relationship and many days I have just wanted to walk away.  Those are the moments (after we have calmed down) we remind ourselves how we met and later … how we met again.  Unfortunately, with each disagreement things are said or done that you can't take back.  For me, that's not a good thing, as each occurrence chips away at the only thing we have left, Love.

This Christmas (not the song) I found myself wishing for what we used to have ...    

You just don't know what I've been going through, You just don't know how I've been missing you
You just don't know how glad I am that you're back, You just don't know, you just don't know

You just don't know all these tears I've cried, You just don't know how I feel inside
You just don't know how good it feels to have you back …   

Get Moving ...

I DID IT!!!!

Today I finally moved the computer from the dining room table to the office!  Believe me … that is truly a big step for me.  That means I now have to sit in the office and get it organized.  I’ve been avoiding that task since we started unpacking boxes.  I have also found the bed in the guest bedroom … Goodwill is going to love me this year and the producers of Hoarders won’t be knocking on our door.  Of course the major influence for this project is to get my house ‘visitor ready’.  Even though hubby is not a fan of having people over, I still want the place to look homey if someone manages to get beyond the troll living under the bridge. 

My co-workers gave me lots of entertaining cookware (they know I hold meetings) and serving items.  I’m really looking forward to putting them to use.  After the holidays I plan to stock up on other little household entertaining thingies.  I’ve always wanted people to feel comfortable when they come into my home … hubby … not so much.  I had an awesome inspiring-moment when I was invited to a friend of a friend’s home for my first holiday party.  She was the perfect hostess!!  The house was elegant and H-U-G-E, but still managed to feel cozy.  She welcomed everyone with a warm hug and kiss on the cheek.  She flowed through the room with grace in her lovely red evening dress and hubby was dressed ‘casket-sharp’.  I admired how she made everyone feel right at home.  I could tell each guest felt equally loved.  She became my entertaining she-ro. 

Now I don’t have to have everything she has … I just want an ounce of all that love, warmth and spirit to flow through our home and into all those who honor us by choosing to visit.  My future plans include learning more on the selection of GOOD wine … stay tuned. <3 <3 <3

Enlarge My Territory ...

1 Chronicles 4:10

New King James Version (NKJV)

¹⁰ And Jabez called on the God of Israel saying, “Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!” So God granted him what he requested.

Luke 12:48

New King James Version (NKJV)

⁴⁸ But he who did not know, yet committed things deserving of stripes, shall be beaten with few. For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required; and to whom much has been committed, of him they will ask the more.

These two scriptures stick in my mind, but more so this morning, as I sit here listening to the constant noises from above.  We live in a bottom-floor apartment.  Our neighbors upstairs have two very rambunctious children (my hubby swears one is ‘extra-special’) that don’t like to step lightly.  I’m not going to blame the children, I’m blaming the parents.  As the adults in the home, you should be teaching them to respect their surroundings.  This means if you live above someone you and everyone in your household shouldn’t be stomping around like sailors celebrating shore leave!  If it’s not the children, it’s the Mom … who apparently was trying to get all her partying in before her partner returned from deployment.  Every Saturday, like clockwork, we could hear her putting on what had to be extremely high, thick-heeled shoes.  She walks around the bedroom in them, takes them off, lets them drop to the floor as she searches for a different pair.  How do we know that’s what she was doing?  Well we drew this conclusion, because the pattern would continue until finally she (insert assumption here) found a pair.  Then her three friends would come over and join in on the “fun”.  We could always hear them going up the steps and entering the apartment, then the group tap dance would begin.  This little show continued until it was finally time to leave for the club.  Hubby verified the number of friends, as he was compelled to watch them leave one night (he wanted to see who was responsible for disrupting his solitude).  He took great pleasure in describing each one and how they all could use a course in etiquette and dress.  Why the scriptures you ask?  Well … it would be nice to have a home again.  Not just because of the things associated with apartment living, but it’s just something about having your own.  I loved having my own yard, my own deck, my own garage, and my own walls to do with as I pleased … just having something that was mine (and the bank handling the financing).  We’re both older now and I really don’t know what the future holds for us, but I do know our next move would be the most expensive as I don’t plan on lifting NOT ONE FINGER.  So I am reminded to ask God to enlarge my territory and with that I understand comes much responsibility.  I continue to ask God for strength, wisdom and guidance. I continue to ask God to move in my life, equip me to handle those things I will be given and to keep me in His will. 

I have never seen our upstairs neighbors and wouldn’t know them if they walked up and ‘punched me dead in the throat’ (inside joke).  I can only let my imagination run wild, as I continue to listen to the constant noise from above and trust Him.

Writer's Block

I have had a very interesting life.  So much so I have been told on numerous occasions I should write a book or a series of books.  It seems EVERYONE that has, what others consider to be, a profound thought is told this same thing (that’s a-hole-helluva-lotta-books).  Years ago I finally got up the nerve to put some of my poetry on paper, but never followed up with a book.  In my head I have always seen my life events play out … like a Stephen King, Irwin Allen, Alfred Hitchcock and now Tyler Perry movie, but I have just never acted on publishing those things.  Many times it was/is because so many people would be hurt or disheartened by what they read in the ‘tell-all’ pages.

The truth is … if the very few people I have allowed, over the years, to be a part of my inner-circle were to join forces … they would have a blockbuster!  I have always been careful NOT to tell everything to one person, just bits-n-pieces here and there with a little extra to those I knew I could trust.  There are some aspects of my life I’m not very proud of and will never tell to anyone … not even in a book, but there are some things – life lessons – I feel could be gleaned from a few moments of my past. 

I’m giving long and careful thought as to how and when I want to begin this writer’s journey.  One thing – I’ll be digging up my old poetry, adding some lovely graphics and putting together two, very short pocket-books.  One will be my ‘sensual’ pieces and the other … I can’t say ‘spiritual’, so I’ll say ‘thoughtful’ pieces.  I also want to look into recording the books using my voice; I have always been told it’s soothing, calming or sensual.  I would love to read to children and older adults.  I know, I know THAT would be the easiest thing to do right away, so that’s the one I’m going to work on along with the pocket-books.  :o)

I want to invest in one of those software programs that will allow me to talk-n-type, because some days I’m really in the mood to dictate, to share an experience, to help someone through a situation, to enlighten someone or just get something off my chest … but have no one to take on that task.  This blogging thing was supposed to be one way of getting my thoughts out of my head and onto ‘paper’, but some days I think it, but just don’t feel like writing it.  Trying to get better about that as well.  

I know one thing I don’t want to become one of those ‘I wish I had done that’ people.  I want to become the person I encourage others to be … the best me I can be.

Too Sexy ...

I often wish I had that hour-glass, fluffy-girl shape I see in all the Ashley Stewart ads … (insert deep sigh here).  I have a cousin in Va Beach, her shape is perfect for AS clothes.  She’s that full-figured girl with the flat tummy, small waist, shapely legs, beautiful feet, proportioned bosom and dynamic smile.  She can glide through a room in 6 inch heels like she was born with them on her feet.  Always flawless (even in sweats running to the drugstore) and makes everything she wears look MAH-VA-LUS!!

Me on the other hand … I ordered a coat from AS and it looked like I was wearing my big sister’s hand-me-downs.  I always have to order clothes to fit my tummy first and the rest of me last.  What I really need is to win the lottery, and then all my things could be tailored to fit.  The last dress I ordered ended up going to my daughter.  I just couldn’t make it work.

On the inside (in my mind) I am this extremely sexy, full-figured woman and everything I slip into looks amazingly A-W-E-S-O-M-E however; the mirror doesn’t lie.  I mean I’m not butt-ugly and Peterbilt is not my last name, but I (like so many others) wish I could move some of this tummy to other places.  A funny thought just popped in my head … remembering when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer and all I could think about was getting new breast and a free tummy tuck.  Oh well … guess I’ll have to keep trying the old-fashioned way.

Messy Marvin ...

Been feeling (as the kids say) ‘some kinda way’ all week.  Can’t quite put my finger on it, but something is just not right inside.  My emotions have been all over the place and my patience … extremely thin.  My foolishness tolerance levels … ZERO.  Unfortunately someone I care about had to find that out the hard way.  I love to laugh and joke around as much as the next person, but when I’m serious ... I’m serious.  So many times I’ve had to say I don’t have time for foolishness, yet it always seems to find me.  I can sit in my office … ALONE … and foolishness will step into my doorway, call my desk or even better … send me an email or text and it’s always my adult friends.  Depending on what I’m doing I may get sucked in right away, other times it may take a little longer.

One of the best ways to end up in foolishness is to go out of your lane OR deal with someone that doesn’t know how to stay in THEIR lane.  If you ask me to do something … let me do it.  Don’t go around discussing the task with others, allowing them to add their 2 cents, act surprised when the confusion starts and the expect me to be the one to fix it, understand or ‘be nice’.  And me being in a pissy mood does not make the situation any more pleasurable.

Will I apologize for how I responded to the situation? Nope.  You knew I didn’t like messy when you met me … don’t get amnesia now.

Gonna Miss You Man ...

Feeling some kind of way today, a very special friend transitioned early yesterday morning and my heart still hurts.  I didn’t toss and turn last night … just laid there … waiting for sleep to come.  Kept trying to clear my head, but everything seemed to remind me of him.  He will be missed by many, but I wonder do ‘they’ realize the full impact of what has happened.  He was more than a friend, he was Petersburg and he was radio before he was ever on the air.  He made Magic … magic.  He was our voice, our connection, our champion.  He never forgot those he encountered along his journey … even if only for a moment.  He took great pleasure in reminding you of something crazy you might have done, laughing with you … not at you.  He was a gentle spirit with a loving touch, he could wrap you in a warm embrace that made you wish he’d never let go … he was … Home.

The tears I shed now are coupled with smiles and fond memories … of times that I will always cherish.  Your dream will continue.

Many years ago … I wrote a poem … trying to put into words the loss of someone dear to me.  Today I feel it’s worth reading again.  Gonna miss you Man …

A Woman

Like a tree, firmly rooted, being pressed by fierce winds . . . we bend . . .

slightly, yielding . . . but never giving up our ground.

When it becomes too much, we cry out “Why me!” not realizing, not

understanding when we’re told “Don’t worry God has a plan.”

A Plan?!

What kind of plan is this?!

To take away something so dear, so kind, so good to me?

Have I not been faithful? Have I not been true?

What have I done to deserve such misery?

But I must hold my head up and be strong.

I must hide all pain, sorrow and heartache.

Because I am woman.

I am strong. I am immovable.

No matter what fierce winds blow into my life . . . I will not break.

For this is what I’ve been taught.

Because God, in His infinite wisdom . . . allowed me to feel joy

. . . to cry . . . to experience life . . . even in the midst of death . . .

For He made me a woman.

-Raymon/1997

Why Me?

I've been told people constantly come to me with drama because I allow them to constantly come to me with drama.  I've always thought it was because people considered me a good listener, a shoulder to lean on or a source of comfort.  But recently a dear friend has given her take on the situation.  She always says 'See Be ... folks don't come to me with that dumb sh*t and you need to stop them from bringing it to you.  How am I supposed to feel about that?  What am I supposed to do? 

I admit I don't have to get in the middle of the mess, but I don't want to hurt someone's feelings by saying 'take it somewhere else'.  The problem is I usually get sucked into the middle of the mess (sigh) and before I realize it … I own the drama as if it were mine.  I don’t like to see people hurt, abused, taken advantage of or disrespected and I tend to get very defensive … sometimes to my detriment.

I always talk about how we do things to remain ‘relevant’ and I guess that’s my thing, the need to feel needed.  Empathy, compassion, caring, concern … all traits I like to think I possess and are considered good.  But I’m learning when you allow those traits to become the reason YOU constantly end up in the middle of some drama … ‘Houston, we have a problem’.  I believe we start to seek out those we feel need our protection … the downtrodden, the huddled masses yearning to be free … you get the picture.  All because we want to remain relevant; we want to be viewed as the one that’s always there for you … the one who you can count on to pull you out of that bad situation.  WoW … is that similar to a god-complex?  Funny … I’ve never thought of myself as having a god-complex, but once I started typing it started to read as if that’s my issue.  All those things I mentioned are what God is supposed to be … to do … who we tell others He is … a present help in the time of trouble.

Recently I’ve had several conversations in that TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE have asked me ‘… but what does that have to do with you?’  Each time I found myself floundering for a justification … not an answer, a justification … because the answer was it had nothing to do with me.  I have to really watch myself … be more cognizant of my behavior and take conscious steps to remove myself from the drama … that has nothing to do with me.

 

This Week ...

This week … Thanksgiving … woooooooo.  Finances have a way of making you stick to your new lifestyle.  We can’t afford the type of holiday meal I would L-O-V-E to have.  I guess that’s a good thing, cause we’d be sitting here stuffed out of our minds by 3p, trying to recover for round two.  My biggest challenge will be empty calories.  Most nutritionists suggest you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself during the holidays, but I always end up with feelings of guilt while eating that extra deviled egg.

We’ve already purchased the things we plan to eat for Thanksgiving and after (I think some people really forget they have to eat after the holiday).  Tuesday is ‘Pumpkin Bash’ day and all of us have to prepare something with pumpkin as the ingredient.  I’m baking a pumpkin cake for work (thanks Mel for the easy recipe) and the plan is to enjoy any leftovers on our half day.

My holiday ritual used to be driving from house to house, socializing, sipping, eating and singing a few old songs … after too much sipping.  Now it consists of morning service, me and hubby, in front of the TV, maybe a phone call or two and staying up as late as possible cause I don’t have to be at work the next morning.  And because I don’t have to get up for work, I get really buck wild in the bedroom … I don’t set the alarm clock!!!

I am truly looking forward to these few days off from work.  My time to rest a little, do some things in the home, hit the gym IN THE MORNINGS and remind myself that every day is a day of thanksgiving.

 

Dark Shadows ...

I need motivation.  I weigh myself every day … one of my many ‘have-to-do’ things on my journey.  This can be so frustrating, especially when you know your weight is going to fluctuate based on what you’ve eaten, your ‘ghost’ cycle, the time of day … heck … sometimes it seems like even the weather has a say-so.  I focus on the bigger reason for the daily weigh-ins and try not to let the numbers on the scale discourage me.  Lately though … I’ve wanted to toss that freaking scale out of a 40-story window.  It seems no matter what I do I cannot get beyond that ‘number’.  I’ll get right to it and then the weight will come back … never more than five pounds though.  The next week it will go away and then the following week it will return … it likes to torture me. 

Of course the doctor has told me to watch my sodium intake, watch my caloric intake, watch my carb intake … I’ve watched so much intake I am now cross-eyed and crazy.  The increase in activity is as allowed and of course I have no energy and seem to have lost my motivation to get up in the morning and do some sort of physical activity.  Maybe it’s because all of this is happening during a time of the year in which our bodies know we should be shutting down like the bears as they go into hibernation. 

I have made additional little lifestyle changes.  One of my biggest fallbacks is fast food.  I’ve convinced myself it’s easier to stop at one of the many ‘joints’ on my way to work than to fix a healthy meal at home.  This past week I chose to get up and prepare my breakfast.  This saved on money AND allowed me more time to meditate before heading out to the work world.  I was good all the way up to … Friday (sound of the shoe dropping).  Yup … I gave in because my body didn’t really want to go to work, so I stayed in ‘hibernation’ as long as I could before emerging from my ‘cave’.  Now here’s the other shoe … I now have to remind myself that even if I feel I MUST stop for fast food instead of preparing my own … I need to make conscious choices.  I need to realize that it’s better to eat for $3.00 off the dollar menu at McDonald’s (less than 400 calories) than it is to eat the $6.00 meal at Hardee’s that has more than 850 calories … that’s half my caloric intake for the day!?!?!?!? 

I’m definitely a work-in-progress spiritually, physically and mentally and all I can do is try to do better than what I did the previous day.  I’m using my food and exercise diary more to help keep me focused on better choices and increasing activity.  I still don’t know the answer to all the fluid retention, but I’m working on what the doctor has suggested. 

People have this misconception that once someone has made it through (what they consider to be) the worse phases of their illness that everything is all good.  Not so.  For me and many others I’ve had the opportunity to enjoy in conversations … the struggle comes after all the doctors have put away their gloves.  This is why it’s so important to maintain a level of love and concern close to what you exhibited during our darkest hours.  Don’t tuck us away and move on to the next ‘crises.  Continue to check in on us, encourage us, show us love and motivate us when we seem to be losing our focus. 

When the spotlight is no longer shining, there is nothing worse than feeling like you’ve been left on the stage … alone.

 

A Dream Deferred ...

What is it that makes someone give up on a dream?  What happened in your life to make you say ‘I couldn’t do ‘this’ so I’m doing ‘that’ and I’m going to let ‘this’ fall to the wayside?  Wasn’t it your passion … the one thing you always dreamed about doing?  Has life been so challenging for you that you’ve decided to throw in the towel and accept whatever comes your way?

I’ve noticed more of my female acquaintances seem to be having the same revelation lately.  They’re finally admitting what was true all along … they are THE BOMB.  It’s as if a light switch was flipped and now they are declaring how wonderful, smart, beautiful, resourceful and awesome they are (She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future. Proverbs 31:25) … as some of our “men” give the old ‘side-eyez’ (smh).  They are stepping out, going for their gusto, achieving their dreams and making things happen.  There is nothing as wonderful as realizing how truly amazing you are … there is no one like you. 

I remember my first serious relationship.  I was 18 … he was older, controlling (I confused that with love) and he had a habit of reminding me that I was lucky to have someone like him.  He constantly told me my family objected to our relationship because they didn’t want to see me happy.  He convinced me he was doing everything for MY benefit.  When I decided I wanted to go to college.  I was excited … until he registered for college too.  I tried to be a part of the marching band … but he didn’t want me to attend practice.  He convinced me that education and my extracurricular activities were interfering with our relationship.  Yes … I eventually withdrew … only later would I realize how much I withdrew.    

We moved to a house that was owned by one of his sisters and I was not allowed to give out the address.  I was also not allowed to have a home phone for the first several months … but then he needed a way to be reached, so we got a phone (it was a few more months before I was allowed to answer the phone).  My daughter would stay with me most weekends, but he convinced me she was better off with my Grandma … funny thing was … my Grandma felt the same way (but that’s another story).  He told me I didn’t need friends that he was my friend and anything I needed to talk about I could discuss with him.

Being young and somewhat impressionable, I gave this man so much power over me I totally lost myself in what I thought was a relationship.  I gave up all the dreams and desires I had in an attempt to become the center of his world, only to discover I had placed myself smack in the middle of a very abusive situation.

It was those little hints I missed early on … the seclusion, the telephone, the mind games … these evolved to insults and threats.  As time went on I graduated to emotional abuse, being blamed for his frequent incarcerations and physical violence.  It was during his last “vacation” that I fell into the arms of someone else (again, another story) and ended the affair just before his release.  How did I know he had set little ‘traps’ around the house?  Add that to his niece and a neighbor he convinced to watch me … I was confronted about the affair.  My gut told me not to deny anything, so I told the truth but of course I added (with dramatic flair) that it was over and wouldn’t happen again.  He said he forgave me and everything was okay, but I knew he was not telling the truth.  I later found out from the guy that he had followed him on several occasions, approached him on his job and attempted to get him in a car (I have no clue what he planned to do) ‘for a ride’.  It was also at this time he began being more verbally abusive.  The threats of physical violence were almost daily (if you so much as look in another man’s direction I will break both your arms), but the frosting on the cake … his plan to trade me for drugs.  He actually sat there and tried to convince me that I owed him this for cheating on him (???).

Well … I waited for him to leave and I packed everything I could into a Hefty trash bag and walked my crazy azz to my cousin’s house … praying she would take me in … she did, we cried together about the situation and then I had to work on my plan to get myself together.

(Fast Forward)

It’s taken some years to get anywhere near back on track with my life.  Many of those years I walked the streets fearing he would pull up on me and try to make me get in a car.  I honestly did not find peace until the day he died.  I even went to the funeral to make sure he was really gone and to say a final goodbye.  My goals, dreams and desires ... restored. 

For what it was worth, he did help to make me the person I am today … stronger, smarter, wiser and resilient.

Where is the Love ...

There are very few things I remember about my Grandma growing up.  The one thing I remember most … I was never her favorite child.  It seemed she picked on me constantly, singled me out for punishment and had me do all the household chores (Why am I having flashbacks to the Cinderella story??).  I was the baby AND the only girl.  All I ever heard growing up was ‘boys don’t do housework’, ‘boys don’t cook’, ‘boys don’t do laundry’ or the best one ‘boys will be boys’, but you are not allowed to have a boy in this house.  That last one was a hoot!  My brothers would have girls in their bedrooms and I could barely have a guy on the front porch?!?!? 

I remember purposely not eating at home … thinking ‘if I don’t eat here I don’t have to wash the dishes’, those dishes were waiting for me every day.  If I didn’t wash them before bed they were waiting for me first thing in the morning.  I remember one of my older brothers sneezing because detergent had gotten in his nose.  My Grandma immediately diagnosed it as an allergy and said he could not wash his own clothes or do anything that required using detergent.  I (on the flipside) got sick one morning before school.  I actually threw up on the kitchen floor.  My Grandma made me clean it up and then told me I still had to go to school (????).  Where is the love???

I was forced to attend church, sing in the choir, usher, attend Sunday school, attend prayer meetings, help out with the church rummage sale, serve as the Sunday school secretary, fix the refreshments for the prayer meetings, and participate in EVERY church activity.  My brothers didn’t even have to attend to church.  I still remember the day I turned 21.  I wore a RED dress to church and informed my Grandma it would be the last Sunday that I would be FORCED to attend that church.  It’s so sad … I grew up in the church, yet I didn’t know what church was about until I grew up.

Most of my family tried to convince me the reason my Grandma ‘felt some kinda way’ about me was she and I were just alike.  I didn’t see it … still don’t.  I remember the day I told her what people had said … but in my own way.  It was one of those days that she was on her ‘let’s tear down my granddaughter’ soap box and she was on a roll.  I was once again reminded that I was a no good-never would be any good slut.  I stood there … allowed her to continue her little rant … and then I calmly said “Well, from what I hear, the fruit doesn’t fall too far from the tree”.  You could have bought her for less than a penny.  I watched her face freeze, eyes glazed as she reached for a crystal ashtray … with the intent to give me a new birthmark.  Now I’ve never been one to raise my hand to an elder and I had no intention of starting that day.  I grabbed her little wrists, held them tightly and called for my brother to come get her before she got hurt.  She tried to wriggle out of my grip, but (luckily) I had her locked down.  I really hate to think how that could have turned out had I not restrained myself.  Where is the love???

The irony … years later … it would be me that had to take care of her.  The even sadder thing … she carried her hatred to the grave.   

The Bucket List

The popular thing now is The Bucket List.  I never thought about having one because I’ve always felt I’ve led an adventurous life … all that is supposed to be behind me now … or is it?  Given (what the doctors say) my current health I’ve been thinking more about that bucket list.  Thinking more about the things I’ve always wanted to do but haven’t … yet.  I’ve always wanted to go on a real cruise.  Not that weekend get-away or that sitting on the dock of the bay cruise, but a real cruise.  I mean I’ll settle for the weekend get-away, but in the back of my mind I will still be hoping for that week long cruise to faraway places.  I’ve always wanted a full-length mink coat, a Lexus SUV, a large master bedroom with a sliding door leading to an enclosed patio, an indoor AND outdoor pool, a home fitness center, an in-home AV room, a colossal bathroom with a lovely vanity set, a Bichon Frise, to be debt-free … including student loans … that’s just a few things … LOL!! 

So here’s my list (so far) of things to do before I die, some have been done since I started the list, some I'm currently doing and others …. Well  ….  

20 Things to do Before You Die:

1. Stop worrying about debt.

2. Stop trying to control your outcome.

3. Look in the mirror and love yourself unconditionally.

4. Find your purpose and live it full heartedly.

5. Don't feel guilty for weight gain.

6. Travel to the place you keep thinking about.

7. Try something that scares you.

8. Be open to change.

9. Let go of your past.

10. Stop trying to change people.

11. Stop thinking you did something wrong.

12. Be yourself.

13. Follow your heart.

14. Recognize the journey is the reward.

15. Stay optimistic in difficult situations.

16. Welcome all life lessons.

17. See the opportunities in every challenge.

18. Inspire others.

19. Forgive all

20. Ask for forgiveness

Six Degrees ...

Why is it when a person within a group of people is discussing some major event in their life we immediately come up with some story to join the discussion?  What’s worse is we feel that it has to be something of major importance … at least to those listening.  We feel the need to always be connected to some tragedy, major drama or whatever is popular at the moment?  When all we’re really doing is just trying to be relevant or draw the attention back to us.  I know of people who have absolutely nothing to do with 9-11, yet they seem to take great pleasure in saying ‘I know someone, who knows someone, who knows someone that related to someone that knows someone that worked at a restaurant 10 miles from the Towers, but they took off from work that day (????????????).  So exactly how did that affect you at your place of work … here in the lovely city of Petersburg???????  And most importantly … why did you feel it was worth sharing???? 

That’s just one of many situations/moments I’ve had to listen to because someone innocently started a conversation about a situation/moment in their life.  I sometimes sit there in awe while the person attempts to link the connection to the event and it’s always the person who is the least connected to the actual event (smh).  I know, I know … you’re saying just stop hanging around those people or don’t entertain the conversation … yeah … but when it’s a ‘sneak attack’ …

 It’s even worse when it occurs during what should be a time of sharing, support and encouragement.  We get into these support groups and before you know it … it has turned into a ‘one-up’ contest.  I’ve known survivors to become upset when they didn’t win a door prize for being the longest survivor.  One person actually went to the organizers of one event and requested the winner be made to produce medical documentation showing her date of diagnosis … really??  People begin to sit around telling one horror story after another in an attempt to make the journey seem harder than yours.   I find that very disheartening and it turns others off as well as discourages them from attending a support group.

One thing we as survivors should strive to do is encourage and uplift each other.  I’m not saying walk around with a crazy smile 24 hours a day, but I am saying don’t be the reason someone else decided it wasn’t worth the fight. 

Always remember, in all things, we are blessed to be a blessing.

 

Are We There Yet ...

Ever have a problem of deciding where to hang what picture?  This, for whatever reason, is really stumping me at this moment.  The pictures have finally made it to the room I've decided to hang them and most have made it to the wall.  As you know, this is a very serious process, as placement of pictures determines how important those in the pictures are in your life <insert sarcastic face here>.  One of the challenges is we lost wall space.  The majority of the pictures hung in the family room ... which we no longer have.  Our current digs … that open concept; combo living/family/dining room is not picture-friendly.  The main issue-Hubby has three huge sofa-sized pictures he has decided will be displayed in the 'living' section of our space.  I have been moved to all other available walls ... even an under-the-breath suggestion was made to move all family pictures to the office.  NOT!!!!

Each day I’ll take inventory, mentally placing the remaining pictures and each day I walk away leaving the pictures as is.  My other challenge is my home-office or as hubby calls it ‘the room with all the unnecessary stuff sitting in boxes and taking up space’.  I keep saying if I can just get bookcases I will begin to organize that space.  I did manage to put up most of my shoes, not happy with how that turned out, but at least I can find them when I need them.  I have so many awesome plans for that office <sigh>.

I have managed to finish the curio cabinet. :o)  Each little shelf has its own items placed ever so gently where they belong.  That has been my one major accomplishment.  I hope to have the dining table cleared off before the holidays … we’ll see how that goes.

Trick or Treat

As a child, my family participated in Halloween.  Every year we'd get our costumes, hop into the station wagon and hit the neighborhoods we DIDN'T LIVE IN.  We always had fun and we went to what you would consider to be the 'best' neighborhoods.  The residents would go all out decorating their homes, doors would swing open as smiling adults ushered us into their foyer.  There we do funny tricks before getting our treats.  At the end of the night ... we'd rush home to gather in the living room and dump all of our goodies in the middle of the floor.  Those were such wonderful memories and then ... that year the big kids came out, dressed in t-shirts and jeans, white powder on their faces, trying to take our treats ... Halloween wasn't so much fun anymore.

With my own children Halloween became a very guarded practice.  No longer was it safe to accept treats from strangers, no longer could you rush home, dump your goodies in the floor and dive in.  All candy had to be x-rayed for dangerous objects (pins, blades ... just nonsense) and you couldn't even think of eating someone's homemade treats, that stuff went straight to the trash!  It is so sad such a fun thing was turned into someone's sick joke. 

Now I don't participate for religious reasons, I always laugh at myself because I can be so much my Grandma's child ... she conveniently would not take part in various holidays for religious reasons, but had no problem being a recipient during that particular holiday.  Well I love to visit my co-workers and gleefully sing ♫trick or treat♫ as I reach into their candy dishes.  I even keep one on my desk for the office trick or treaters.  Thankfully my children are now grown with their own, because I just do not do the dress up thing or the taking kids around the neighborhood thing or the answering the door thing.  Too much drama from the little ones these days.  They are never happy with what you've provided and then they want to be greedy and take all they see.  One year we just left the bowl out and within minutes ... EMPTY and we knew that many children had not stopped by in that short time.

I was hoping to attend some sort of activity (harvest night), but I really don't have the patience to deal with a lot of stimulation right now.  So ... here's hoping for a peaceful, uneventful night on October 31st.

Do You Remember?

The old folks say if you survive (insert YOUR drama here) you're here for a reason ... a purpose. 
One thing I can say is my life has been filled with drama.  I tend to avoid reality shows because I can't stand the scripted drama.  It says to me 'the creators feel your life is boring to viewing America, so we're going to make it ratings worthy' ... now pick up that shoe and beat your best friend.  As if real life doesn't have enough of its own challenges (smh).

It took years of growing, maturing and learning for me to realize, for every rough situation in which I emerged scratched but not destroyed, I owed everything to God.

• I remember climbing trees to get to the top of the roof of a two-story building, so I could jump from the roof (so thankful for soft, uncut grass).
• I remember hitchhiking rides when I was in a hurry, too young to drive and no close friends with transportation.  Yup ... just hopping into cars with strange men (no women ever seemed to slow down) and depending upon them to get me to my destination safely ... and in 'tact'.  Only once did I have to implement protective measures, but that didn't deter me from continuing the very dangerous practice. 
• I remember jumping in the car with my Mom to go beat up the 'other woman'.  Yeah, I was a ride or die chick before it was popular. 
• I remember drinking so much I couldn't feel my lips and yet I got behind the wheel of my car and drove 30 miles to get home. 
• I remember being robbed ... at gun point.  I placed my hand on the gun and pushed it away thinking it was a joke.
• I remember throwing myself down a flight of stairs ... when events in my life had begun to consume me.

So many times, too many to list here (and some too embarrassing) ... God stepped in when my foolishness took over and He saved me from myself.

The first time ...

The lyrics say 'The first time ever I saw your face ...'.  I remember the first I saw him ... it was 1988, we were on our way back to Petersburg after hanging out at  friend's house in Hopewell.  One of my cohorts had to use the bathroom and we flat-out refused to let him pee on the side of the road as he suggested, so we pulled into the McDonald's on Oaklawn Blvd.  While we waited patiently in the car we could see the folks eating inside.  That's when this gorgeous dark-skinned man got up from his table.  We could see he was built and I wanted a closer look.  He returned to the table and a few minutes after ... our friend returned to the car.  By this time we had worked ourselves into a frenzy over this guy and my cousin agreed to go in the McDonald's with me, so I could say something to him.

As we head inside, my inner-shy decided it was time to come out ... I couldn't open my mouth!  He and the guy he was sitting with glanced in my direction, smiling.  I smiled and quickly turned my head, my cousin punched me in the shoulder.  I walked up to the counter, ordered an apple pie, got my order, turned toward them, smiled again and took my happy butt out the door.  Of course my cousin was on my heels ... cursing.  As we get in the car she's verbally beating me up and calling me scared.  I sit there, hands on the wheel but I don't start the car.  Now it becomes a decision of do I go back in and try again or do I wait for him to come out?  So ... we sit ... for THIRTY LONG MINUTES!!! 

We begin to wonder just how much they could eat and why were they taking so long.  My cousin and our friend become irritable and are ready to leave.  Me being me, I continue to sit there, I wait.  After what seemed like another eternity, they finally start preparing to leave their seat.  As they approach the exit I roll my window down and motion for him to come to my car.  They look at each other and the other guy points to himself (???).  I quickly shake my head no and point again.  The gorgeous guy realizes I'm talking about him, he smiles and heads toward the car.  This also allows me the opportunity to 'take it all in'.  He is A-MAY-ZING!!  Tall, slender but muscular, bowed-legs and extremely dark.  His smile flashed and once he got close enough I could see why ... GOLD TEETH (smh).  One strike but not enough to put him out.

He kneels beside my door and leans partially in ... no bad breath thank goodness.  My first question: What's your name?  He responds and asks my name, I respond.  My next question: Are you married?  To this one he holds up his left hand, twirls it around in the air and then rests it on my door.  I respond by saying 'that doesn't mean a thing'.  He smiles and then says he's married but separated (insert my 'sure ya are' face here) and asks is that a problem for me.  Now let me say this was at a time in that I did some things I'm not so proud of ... that being said, my response was 'doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you'.  From that point we exchanged contact information and both said we'd be in touch.  I started the engine, pulled out the parking lot and pointed my car toward Petersburg, so my exhausted but excited partners could finally lay heads on a pillow.

It was later that night as I sat in my living room that a knock came at my door.  I approached the peephole wondering who in the world would be coming by (this time of night) without calling and has I adjusted my eyes I found myself blinking, trying to make sure of what I saw.  I slowly opened the door and there he was ...

Safe Haven

Psalm 43:2

New Living Translation (NLT)

² For you are God, my only safe haven.  Why have you tossed me aside?
Why must I wander around in grief, oppressed by my enemies?

I have found myself searching for that 'safe haven' more often lately.  I still remember the day I was told I had breast cancer ... wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel, but didn't really have the chance to think about it ... hubby was standing there dismissing the news as if I'd been told I have a cold and to go home with some soup.  Maybe that's a good way to handle tough situations, maybe not.  He wasn't in the room with me when I was told it was Triple Negative Breast Cancer ... (take another deep breath and re-heat that soup please).  As I did/do with most things I immediately hit the Internet; never had I felt so defeated, discouraged and disheartened.  Nothing positive, no good news, no wonderful prognosis AND the medical community was claiming it was NEW AND RARE (???).  My breast surgeon jokingly says 'Well Ray, when you do it you do it big'.

Each year I would face a new challenge resulting from my treatment and each year I held my breath waiting for test results.  While each challenge may have weakened my physical self, it seemed to strengthen me mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  In spite of all the things going on I always say "I'm still in remission" and throw my hands up in praise.  This latest challenge has really got me going though.  I'm back where I was with my cancer diagnosis ... not knowing how I'm supposed to feel.  Hubby is pretending to take it in stride, but I can see a difference in his behavior.  Back then it was 'just suck it up and do what they tell you to do', now it's laying out my meds AND juice, watching me everytime I cough, sneeze or say ouch.  It's 'get off the computer and go to bed, you need your rest' and he's a little more controlling and over-protective.

I'm not an invalid and the funny thing is we BOTH now have heart failure, so why isn't HE following the protocol he's trying to force on me?  I spent a few days mad at him (in my mind) because I found out my condition is worse than his (talk about buzzard's luck), but encouraged by the fact his numbers improved after treatment (always looking for that rainbow).

Trying to find ways to deal with this situation and things that will help me better accept what I'm going through.  Keep in mind I was only prepared for handling cancer and it took me a minute to get there.  Then it dawned on me I should treat it just like I did cancer.  Instead of hiding it from people ... talk about it.  Instead worrying what people will say or do around me ... show them how my life continues in spite of my challenges.  And most importanly ... show by example how to overcome this challenge.  Take care of myself, get some sort of activity going (Did I mention I'm now leading a water-walking class at our local YMCA?) and listen to my body.

Some days are still more difficult than others, but everyday I place my feet on the floor is a good day.  This newest challenge is the cause of me again seeking out that 'safe haven'.  Because I haven't shared my condition with everyone (yet) I have to smile when I don't want to and keep it moving.  I've found my patience getting short with foolishness and ignorance (which seems to abound in the workplace).  I've closed my door more often lately ... I need that quiet time, that time of reflection ... meditation ... to focus.  I need that time to renew my spirit and pray for God's anointing, for His touch for His comfort, guidance and strength.

   

Triple Negative Breast Cancer and heart failure ... do I worry?  No.  Am I scared?  No.  Do I imagine what life will be like once I'm gone?  Yes ... don't we all?  Do I wish things were different as it relates to my health?  Yes.  Would I like more time here on Earth to see my grandchildren finish college and have families of their own?  Yes. 

'They' say five years is our benchmark and if we make it to that point without a recurrence our chances of having a recurrence become the same as someone only having breast cancer.  Now let's add that little gift that keeps on giving ... 'after-effects' of aggressive cancer treatments ... January 23rd will be my 5th year ... That's going to be one helluva celebration in 2014!!!