Days of My Life

Who hasn’t heard the saying, “When life hands you a lemon, make lemonade?” I have always wanted to say to the sayer, “What the heck does that mean, and how exactly am I supposed to make a tasty drink out of my messy mess?” Always wanted to say it but never have. It’s usually some well-meaning person who says such a thing anyway. At some point in time, the well-meaning person has been one or both of my parents. Finally, I think I’ve figured this thing out.

What usually happens is that you find yourself in a situation where no matter how much you may want to, you have no idea how to make the best of it. Some say think of those less fortunate who have it worse than you, but really, that won’t help you. Others say you just learn from it and pass on what you learn to others because it (meaning the situation) is not all about you–you know, the concept that we go through what we do because we’re strong enough and will one day be able to help someone else do the same. This a quite a useful concept that typically holds true, but still no lemonade.

The thing about lemons is that they are so tart that without the proper amount of sugar they just make your eyes squint and your jaws turn. Sucking a lemon is akin to a situation getting worse before it gets better to that extent that you just have to roll with the punches for a little while. Not only until lemons are diluted with water does their juice become palatable. That means you have to to be doused with water, more turmoil, before even the bitter mess can become better. It feels like adding insult to injury, and what follows is no better. You then have to add the sugar. Adding sugar seems like it would be the most pleasant step, but that’s only if you do it in moderation. Not enough, and the drink is still bitter. Too much, and you have diabetes in a bottle, or pitcher. *shrug* The key is finding the perfect amount of balance, so the question then becomes: how does one do that? That’s the hard part.

*I was prepared for this post to go somewhere else, but this is where it went, and when I ran out of stuff to say, I just stopped.*

Sitting here looking at a photo of my dog Candy, I am reminded of the things we leave behind. There is a collage of her on my wall, and in one photo she is looking directly into the camera as though she is looking directly at me. I love that shot, so as I look I tell her that she will never be forgotten and my mind drifts to the spot in my back home yard where she rests in a cardboard box sealed tightly by her vet enclosed with her blue blankie. She is in the spot where she was laid to rest by my parents and me on a pleasant February day almost two years ago under a shade tree several feet beneath a concrete marker my dad had poured especially for her. In fact, it was he who insisted on a service and proper burial that caused me to drive her body in the trunk from NC where she died to GA where she was buried before returning to DC.

That day was so long ago, distanced by the events that transpire with time, yet it seems like yesterday. The memories of Candy and that day I hold dear. Candy died of what killed my dad a year and more before him. He had just come out of the hospital fighting it the day before Candy died. They shared a bond like that and it was important to him that she be remembered properly. So when I think of Candy’s burial and her special spot under the tree, I think of him.

I am also reminded of what I have taken with me from that moment and what I have left behind. I have taken all of the love that both of them have given me, Candy for 16+ years and my dad for my whole life. I am strengthened by the fact that I thought the pain of leaving Candy in that one spot of my life’s history felt like it would never end, but that is a pain I have left behind. The loss of my father fills me with a different pain, a different longing, far more intense and more profound, but I am encouraged because the pain of that loss I will one day leave behind although the memories I never will.

So I smile when I think of Candy and her antics as I prepare myself to reach out to another dog and try loving a pet once again. I understand that I will one day embrace a step-father eventually whom could never replace my dad but could be just as worthy of my love and respect.

When our loved ones get off the life merry-go-round, we sometimes feel stuck in that one spot, not knowing how to move forward without them and sometimes feeling guilty for the moments we feel they’ll never share. But the funny thing about that playground toy is that it will keep right on spinning regardless of whether we want it to–just like life. I’m learning that what we take with us in the way of memories as the wheel keeps on spinning is far more useful and valuable than the pain and self-pity for our own loss (no matter how warranted) that we must learn to leave behind.

Why am I at work when work is “officially” closed? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because my place of employment announced a late opening and then announced an even later opening at the exact time they’d already said everyone was supposed to come in. Much to my annoyance, only three others were here when I arrived, which begs the question: What are we doing here? Better yet, I wonder why we’re even open when the many of the roads to get here are closed and the walkways and steps here are covered in ice. Some people must love lawsuits because this wreaks of one.

In other news, I spoke with someone this morning to whom I did not say what I was thinking out of respect, which was, “Don’t judge me until you’ve walked a mile in my moccasins.” I don’t wish my plate full that I have now on ANYBODY, well, naaaw, I don’t.

Wait a minute. We have to pause for a break. Forget the moccasin point. I’m now completing this from home because my job decided (guess what?!!) that it is closed for the day approximately a half hour before the second delayed opening was to go into effect. Gotta love people, I tell ya. I’m about to pull the covers over my head and commence to part two of my prematurely interrupted so I could get rid of ice siesta.

God bless America.

There are some things in life that are absolutely liberating. Take LH’s comment on the post below for instance. It liberated me!! I was feeling so guilty for hurting someone that I put all pride aside and did the dumb girl pathetic thing. Dude is ignoring me, but yes, I did the stupid and continued to call and text and try to smooth his ruffled feathers. LH and a good friend snapped me back to reality. He knows my number, got the message, and knows how to reach me. I don’t do the tit for tat of tennis, so if and when he calls, I won’t be rude and ignore him (notwithstanding some people need to be ignored) . I’ll pick up the phone and talk if I feel like it and say I don’t if I don’t. What I won’t do is continue to call and reach out because all he will interpret from that is that I’m as clingy and desperate as the nutcase with whom he’s currently dealing. That’s not who I am. I love friends who bring you back to consciousness because LH is right. I don’t owe him any more than I’m willing or able to give. Li-ber-a-ting, I tell you!

Aaron Neville says “everybody plays a fool,” but who says you have to stay one? Pish posh on that. I never would have thought that my grieving would come with so much guilt about any and every little thing that may not really belong to me. Next, I think I’m going to work on liberating myself from that. Some people have no clear consciousness of the fact that they are often better off saying nothing, and sometimes doing nothing, at all.

Thanks L, and thanks Kim.

My family and I have this inside joke whenever someone gets to acting up and we are choosing not to deal with them. It applies to children, friends, whomever.

Cousin 1: Chile, So-and-So was acting a plum fool today! I had to straight ignore his/her *%#@!

Cousin 2: S/He ain’t know? Today is not their day. Tomorrow? Tomorrow might be their day, but today ain’t it.

Get it?
(Excuse the lack of pronoun agreement in our Southern idiom )

So, for my friend, my personal heartache for the next few hours (Oh yeah, I’m gone be as sad, happy, or whatever else I want to be before I put him out of my mind and act like it) before I just let him go, “today just ain’t your day.”

Today I did a hard thing.

I’ve always believed that honesty is the best policy. I try as best I can to be tactfully honest with everyone as the need arises. That’s a part of my obedience to the golden rule because with honest care is how I choose to be treated. So I guess I owe you a scenario before I throw my question out there.

I met someone who was involved with someone else through their child. Well, I didn’t JUST meet him. We’ve known each other my whole life, so we more or less reconnected. He led me to believe he was at the end of his relationship. It quickly became apparent that they weren’t as close to the end as he thought they were, or at least she wasn’t willing to let him go, even after he told her about me. Very well. I know how to step, but I didn’t. He didn’t want to let go. Fine. I didn’t either because I really needed a friend.

Emotionally, we crossed the line into more than friends. In what he said was an attempt to end his current relationship, he did something very hurtful. I forgave him but emotionally began to disconnect. I’ve always told him that he should be completely honest with his child’s mother. It dawned on me today that I was not completely honest with him. I no longer felt the same way about him that I did initially when I was grieving and mourning and really needing a strong friend. I owe him for being there for me. I want us to remain friends. I thought the best way to do that was to be honest rather than continue to blow off his overtures at romance.

I finally told him that things had changed on my end and that even if he were free I’m not sure I’d be interested in a relationship. I love him dearly, find him attractive and all that, but I am not in love with him. I didn’t want to lead him on and give him false hope like I feel he is doing to his current person. He is telling her one thing but still remaining in the relationship hoping he can push her to break up. Why do men do that punk crap? Right now, he is hurting and doesn’t want to speak to me. Hopefully, he will change his mind and we can continue to be the friends we were meant to be. I understand that the ball is in his court because the whole purpose of being honest is to allow someone the opportunity to make the best choices for his own life with all the information at hand.

Anyway, I could have remained silent and let things run their course until he figured, “hey, she’s just not that into me!” But I thought that would be cruel and I hate having that done to me, so which is better? Do you prefer the passive “just let things die” approach, or do you prefer a straight shooter, no chaser?

To my friend:
My trust in you and my faith in us has been broken. You are in a position to be my friend. Hear what I’m telling you, and I pray to God that you will prove me wrong. You just aren’t in a position to do it right now, so until then, can we just be friends?