Have you ever heard the song by Colin Haye "Waiting for my real life to begin"? I am having a particularly sad day. The sun is outside shining but my soul is intensely cold. The light begs to touch my skin, but I can not find it in me today to reach out for it.
As I hear these words, waiting for my real life to begin, the tears just swell up. Unexpected and unwelcome, I can't seem to stop, as much as I hate them. I find myself disgusted that I am relating to this song. What do I have to possibly complain about?
Hate me or love me, I am lost. I am alone. I am surrounded by people who love me, and I feel alone. Or maybe abandoned. I am not sure who abandoned who, me to my life or my life to me. I think that is why this song has hit me today. I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend.... yet I don't know who I am. I look in the mirror and wonder how I got here.
Everyday I see my precious little girl who I love more than life growing further away from me. I still see this little face looking up at me that use to need and want me more than anything in the world. A girl I laughed with, spent all my time with and looked forward to seeing every morning. As I look at her through cloudy eyes, I notice her eyes have changed for me. What saddens me the most, is they have changed for only me. The unconditional love she shares with almost anyone - doesn't seem to even trickle over to me. Our days are now filled with directions, frustration, explanations, or punishments. I hate myself for the way I have become, and not just with her.
I use to be full of life and happiness. The only thing I see looking back at me now is someone so heavy with sorrows, worry, disappointment and a lack of drive. Who is that person? What the hell is she doing looking back at me? I never wanted this, I never wanted her.
Bring me back to a place where I can smile at the sun, dance like I am great, and laugh like everything brings me a silly happiness. Please don't let me be this person I see. Please don't let Makenzie see it. I want so much more for her. I don't want her to be anything like me. I have screwed up so many times, in so many ways. If I could wish one thing for her, is that God would grant her the foresight that I don't have. To see that there is some grand master plan and that we aren't alone. That the little things are just that....little. I wish she would see the world that I would see for her.
My heart aches, and I am weak. I need some rest. I need to pull from the dust the person that others say they see, or use to. I remember a story I heard in church about the pioneers as the crossed the plains. It was the dead of winter, middle of a huge wind storm. Here these simple people are pulling these impossibly heavy wooden hand carts through the snow with thin straps of leather on their feet. Their babies were dying, and loved ones were forced to leave them behind. What did these people do? THEY KEPT GOING. In a picture I saw that depicted this, you seem them crippled over pushing with everything they had left...... and next to them - angels were helping them push. Right along side next to them, pushing with all their might and strength.
I need my angel.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
A day amongst the forgotten....
I was blessed the other night to witness a session of pet therapy. No, not the kind you take your hurt pet to. This is the kind you take your pet, to those that are hurting. I am in the process of making my dog Stanley "pet therapy ready" so I can do these visits myself. This night though, I was just an observer.
As I walked in this assisted living home my nose was blasted with what I describe as the smell of hopelessness. The lighting was all wrong for a place like this, the carpet old and antiquated. I felt as though I had to blink a few times to get my eyes to focus because of the strange light. From the front desk the halls spider-ed leading to the bedrooms. I could see numerous nurse staff walking around, plenty it seemed that those that needed some extra care and attention could have it. Amongst them were the residents. It almost looked like two episodes of the same TV show were playing, one with the residents, and one with the staff. They were all walking the same hallways, but they weren't interacting with each other. They would just float past each other. It was strange really, I wasn't expecting that. In a rehab facility maybe, the patients were never there very long - but here, these people were living here full time. Full time! The residents here had no other family to surround them, so they were left to the mercy of the staff, for better or worse.
We started our rounds, down one hallway after the next. I would look at the plaques on the doors where there name was taped on. Taped on as if mocking them in their face that no one was fooled by one calling this their "home." Everyone knew it was temporary. Everyone would leave, one way or another. By their names was either a paw print or not. That is how we knew if they were "pet friendly." I remember thinking what a weird way to think of another human being. Hotels were pet friendly, parks were pet friendly....not another human being. When we were sure they would even want the option to visit with our dog, we popped our heads in asking if they wanted to visit with our dog tonight.
The rooms were mediocre, at best. I say that because if I were wanting to stay in them for a few nights, like a motel, that would be fine. But these people live here. This is there HOME. Most were the size of a small master bedroom, with no separate bathroom. The bathroom was a part of the room. The lighting was that same yellow/dim light that makes your eyes hurt. What caught my eye the most, were the walls. The walls were covered in what I could only guess were what they loved most. Pictures of their loved ones, paintings, a cross-stitched cat in a flower vase probably done by a granddaughter. I loved looking at it all, seeing what makes them happy. The saucy older ladies would have pictures of themselves 50 years ago, in their "prime", out on the town. The feisty older men would have framed metals from the war or pictures of their young brides. I smiled as I saw each one, warming my heart for the person we were about to visit.
The residents that were "pet-friendly" weren't always "people-friendly." It was amazing to watch them look at you with such vacancy, and then your pup lays his head in their lap and they come alive. The conversation starts to flow between them, only sometimes verbally. I found myself wishing I could be a part of that friendship, knowing how to communicate on such a non-threatening level. The joy that came across there face was almost painful. Painful in a way that behind their eyes was a truth that this particular visitor, the dog, was the most love they would feel come this time in their lives. It was brutally honest, and beautiful all in one.
Leaving that night I was so mixed with emotion. Love, hate, sadness, embarrassment. Mostly love, but tailed tightly by embarrassment. How could we, as a society, forget these people. How could their loved ones put them here and just forget about them. I know that there are always exceptions to what I seem to be generalizing. There are those families that had no other choice, that age or debilitating disease has made the choice for them, and they just can't take care of that person any more. There are those that love that person so much, and come to visit them daily, bringing them food and doing their laundry. I applaud those people, they are carving their place in heaven. To those that are not the exception though - shame on you.
These older souls are ones that should be cherished, loved and certainly learned from. I left that night with a new drive to do what I can for those that can't do it for themselves, to have more patience with the little old lady driving in front of me with the gray hair that can barely see over the dashboard, to look under the unforgiving wrinkles and relentless loss of age - to learn. I will learn whatever they grace me with durning these visits. And when I am not open enough for them, I pray that my dog might give them the love and peace they are searching for, and more than deserve.
As I walked in this assisted living home my nose was blasted with what I describe as the smell of hopelessness. The lighting was all wrong for a place like this, the carpet old and antiquated. I felt as though I had to blink a few times to get my eyes to focus because of the strange light. From the front desk the halls spider-ed leading to the bedrooms. I could see numerous nurse staff walking around, plenty it seemed that those that needed some extra care and attention could have it. Amongst them were the residents. It almost looked like two episodes of the same TV show were playing, one with the residents, and one with the staff. They were all walking the same hallways, but they weren't interacting with each other. They would just float past each other. It was strange really, I wasn't expecting that. In a rehab facility maybe, the patients were never there very long - but here, these people were living here full time. Full time! The residents here had no other family to surround them, so they were left to the mercy of the staff, for better or worse.
We started our rounds, down one hallway after the next. I would look at the plaques on the doors where there name was taped on. Taped on as if mocking them in their face that no one was fooled by one calling this their "home." Everyone knew it was temporary. Everyone would leave, one way or another. By their names was either a paw print or not. That is how we knew if they were "pet friendly." I remember thinking what a weird way to think of another human being. Hotels were pet friendly, parks were pet friendly....not another human being. When we were sure they would even want the option to visit with our dog, we popped our heads in asking if they wanted to visit with our dog tonight.
The rooms were mediocre, at best. I say that because if I were wanting to stay in them for a few nights, like a motel, that would be fine. But these people live here. This is there HOME. Most were the size of a small master bedroom, with no separate bathroom. The bathroom was a part of the room. The lighting was that same yellow/dim light that makes your eyes hurt. What caught my eye the most, were the walls. The walls were covered in what I could only guess were what they loved most. Pictures of their loved ones, paintings, a cross-stitched cat in a flower vase probably done by a granddaughter. I loved looking at it all, seeing what makes them happy. The saucy older ladies would have pictures of themselves 50 years ago, in their "prime", out on the town. The feisty older men would have framed metals from the war or pictures of their young brides. I smiled as I saw each one, warming my heart for the person we were about to visit.
The residents that were "pet-friendly" weren't always "people-friendly." It was amazing to watch them look at you with such vacancy, and then your pup lays his head in their lap and they come alive. The conversation starts to flow between them, only sometimes verbally. I found myself wishing I could be a part of that friendship, knowing how to communicate on such a non-threatening level. The joy that came across there face was almost painful. Painful in a way that behind their eyes was a truth that this particular visitor, the dog, was the most love they would feel come this time in their lives. It was brutally honest, and beautiful all in one.
Leaving that night I was so mixed with emotion. Love, hate, sadness, embarrassment. Mostly love, but tailed tightly by embarrassment. How could we, as a society, forget these people. How could their loved ones put them here and just forget about them. I know that there are always exceptions to what I seem to be generalizing. There are those families that had no other choice, that age or debilitating disease has made the choice for them, and they just can't take care of that person any more. There are those that love that person so much, and come to visit them daily, bringing them food and doing their laundry. I applaud those people, they are carving their place in heaven. To those that are not the exception though - shame on you.
These older souls are ones that should be cherished, loved and certainly learned from. I left that night with a new drive to do what I can for those that can't do it for themselves, to have more patience with the little old lady driving in front of me with the gray hair that can barely see over the dashboard, to look under the unforgiving wrinkles and relentless loss of age - to learn. I will learn whatever they grace me with durning these visits. And when I am not open enough for them, I pray that my dog might give them the love and peace they are searching for, and more than deserve.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
A little explanation please....
I feel like some explanation is due. In an effort to clarify my goal, I should say that I am attempting to write every day. With the Christmas season afoot, I will not delude myself into thinking that is going to happen, so I will agree with doing my best until the first of the year, and then I am off to the races. Also, the title of my blog begs for a little more insight.
I was laying in bed one night thinking about my life. I was looking in the dark corners I sometimes fear to admit are there. As I was peering in, I wondering why my life had so many that were hard to look at. Am I too hard on myself? Am I not hard enough? Do I need to hold myself more accountable, to higher standards? Within so many unanswered questions, I had "the" moment. You know, the moment you say to yourself "Ah-ha," and a little bit of light appears. Good or bad, you understand yourself a little bit better. What I understood about myself, is that I am my own Everest.
One might ask if that is a good or bad thing. To me, this is a bad thing. To me, it means I am this huge obstacle standing in my own way. To me, I am this looming battle I have yet to conquer. In bed that night, my heart became heavy because I didn't know what to do about it. I am only 30! This is not my life. At that moment, my epiphany came. I AM Everest. Just like that, the meaning changed. I am going to change my life. I am going to be someone unmovable, unshakable. I am going to be the rock others can lean on.
This new outlook filled me with hope, something I had been lacking. Each day I will look outside myself to find the beautiful - to be beautiful, on the inside (and maybe the outside will begin to match it).
I was laying in bed one night thinking about my life. I was looking in the dark corners I sometimes fear to admit are there. As I was peering in, I wondering why my life had so many that were hard to look at. Am I too hard on myself? Am I not hard enough? Do I need to hold myself more accountable, to higher standards? Within so many unanswered questions, I had "the" moment. You know, the moment you say to yourself "Ah-ha," and a little bit of light appears. Good or bad, you understand yourself a little bit better. What I understood about myself, is that I am my own Everest.
One might ask if that is a good or bad thing. To me, this is a bad thing. To me, it means I am this huge obstacle standing in my own way. To me, I am this looming battle I have yet to conquer. In bed that night, my heart became heavy because I didn't know what to do about it. I am only 30! This is not my life. At that moment, my epiphany came. I AM Everest. Just like that, the meaning changed. I am going to change my life. I am going to be someone unmovable, unshakable. I am going to be the rock others can lean on.
This new outlook filled me with hope, something I had been lacking. Each day I will look outside myself to find the beautiful - to be beautiful, on the inside (and maybe the outside will begin to match it).
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Two thumbs up....
That is how I am going to rate my experiences of the day, two thumbs up, down or one of each. Today was a two thumbs up day. I started my day with a visit from two friends. One of which is someone I consider to be truly beautiful on the inside (and out). She is someone you look at and wish you could be more like. It left me feeling rejuvenated, which I needed and it was only 11am. This afternoon I got a peek into a world that I have long forgotten how it felt to be there. Now I am older and weighed down by things that shouldn't matter nearly as much as they do. My shoulders slump a little more, my eyes don't hide the worry I wished they would. Today, I was reminded there is a world I have forgotten, that if wanted bad enough, I could infuse a bit of that unbridled joy with my world. My 3 year old daughter danced tonight. By dance, I do mean all the right foot positions and arm movements....but I also mean DANCED. The raw joy I saw in her face tonight warmed my soul. She didn't care about what others around her thought, she didn't even care if the moves she did were correct. All she cared about is that she was having the time of her life, surrounded by people who loved her, gazing at her with pride. If I could be that happy with so little. Is it really that little? Really what else is there? Shouldn't we all be having the time of our life? Shouldn't we all be overjoyed that our loved ones are around us, however strained or intact the relationship might be? I came home tonight with a high, a high that didn't last as long as I had hoped. My doubt crept back in, my worry, my sadness. I don't know why or even what exactly I am worried or sad about... but it is my constant companion. Why is it a two thumbs up day then? My soul has been fed, my heard warmed a bit more and hope feels it has a good chance.... that is a good day!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
So it begins....
Why start this blog? This last week my life began to make a shift. Maybe it is all the Christmas music, the snow, or the twinkling lights on every corner. Maybe it's the smiling faces you see come out once a year on people that during any other month would rather ignore you than talk to you. I think it has been a collimation of a few things that has brought me to this sobering point - I am a one way street.
Let me explain what that means to me. Even though I feel like all I do is give, give, give.... I really don't give anything of real worth. Don't get me wrong, I feel like I am a good, and on some days great, mother. I give to my kids my love, freely and so much that I am that good kind of empty at the end of the day. I love my husband, and in my mind and heart would do anything for him to lift his burdens or ease his load. I love my family. I love my church. I love my Savior. I know all of this. What I don't know is how I can change the way I do all of that. I want to do better, I want to BE better.
This blog is my way of holding myself accountable. I will write about my journey. I will write about the way I am bettering myself, my life, my kids, my marriage.... but most of all, how I can touch the lives of those around me and make a difference. Large or small, both of equal importance. Here we go......
Let me explain what that means to me. Even though I feel like all I do is give, give, give.... I really don't give anything of real worth. Don't get me wrong, I feel like I am a good, and on some days great, mother. I give to my kids my love, freely and so much that I am that good kind of empty at the end of the day. I love my husband, and in my mind and heart would do anything for him to lift his burdens or ease his load. I love my family. I love my church. I love my Savior. I know all of this. What I don't know is how I can change the way I do all of that. I want to do better, I want to BE better.
This blog is my way of holding myself accountable. I will write about my journey. I will write about the way I am bettering myself, my life, my kids, my marriage.... but most of all, how I can touch the lives of those around me and make a difference. Large or small, both of equal importance. Here we go......
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