“Throughout life people will make you mad, disrespect you and treat you bad. Let God deal with the things they do, cause hate in your heart will consume you too.” - Will Smith
In my life, on more than one occasion I have been accused of giving too much or being too generous. I have sat back and thought hard about what it is in me that feels so inclined to give so much, even at the cost of my own heart.
This past week I have had one of those moments where I finally saw the true heart of someone who my Mother described to me as a "Taker". Someone who lacks the ability to truly know gratitude and finds within themselves the inability to really comprehend that when someone gives that there is a need in some way to find gratitude and give back in whatever way they can and for me, the lesson that giving must never have any expectation of a return because when we do that we fail each other and ourselves.
My greatest regret is the lies that accompanied the disrespect and the way those lies called into question an honorable father whose only hope was to lift his child and improve her circumstances. He didn't deserve what happened to him and he still doesn't; that I will never understand.
Will this change my nature or alter the course of my life. In some ways, yes. It gives me a bit more insight into the heart of a mentality that will use another human being and then callously spit them out. I say insight because I will never understand it. I will never comprehend how one human being can ever fell entitled to the generosity of another. Taking is an ugly trait that seeds itself in greed and heartless thoughtlessness.
When I was being laughed at and shown the disdain of any expectations I had, I felt hatred again, a hatred I have long worked at ridding myself of. I stopped myself and ached that all this individual had to do was speak the truth of wanting to go home, of missing her home and we WOULD HAVE UNDERSTOOD but instead, greed made these feelings come out in anger and disruption and turned a home filled with acceptance and love into a living nightmare. I failed in even allowing myself to become involved in this whole nightmare. It never occurred to me that gratitude could be completely vacant in someone given so much and that whatever hatred has infused into her heart to hold it hostage and make such accusations that a mother is accused of stealing and a father of abuse is something that needs addressed quickly before more people become victims and before this individual can't even discern truth from fiction anymore.
I am angry and hatred can soon follow if I don't catch myself and recognize pain for what pain is and for the influence of a mentality that says taking advantage of good people is okay, it is never okay.
And as I said, if the greatest mistake I made was treating you as a daughter and welcoming you in as a daughter it is one that I would make again because giving is never a sin or a mistake and I will not change my very nature just because I got hurt.
As my mother said to me once, "if at the end of your life, the worst that anyone can say is that you gave too much you have honored me as a mother".
Thanks Mom, for letting me know that as much as it is my weakness there is so much more weaknesses that could hurt not only me but those I love around me.
One woman's take on survival and renewal and who has found faith in one hell of an exceptional way.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sing - Like No One is Listening
"Sing like no one’s listening, love like you’ve never been hurt, dance like nobody’s watching, and live like its heaven on earth." ~ Mark Twain
The other day I was watching old movies on TBS. An autobiographical movie done in the late 30’s was on and it followed Mark Twain from young adulthood to his death. Mark Twain has always been a favorite of mine and watching this movie made me realize that as much wisdom as the man had including the heartache he suffered he always seemed to find wisdom in the comedy of his life. I think that’s why he is often referred to as the greatest humorist the world has ever known. Come on, he travelled the world going from place to place and all he did was speak and make people understand that as hard as life can be sometimes there is, above everything else, reason to find humor. He did this for one very distinct purpose. He wasn't going to file for bankruptcy and let his lenders suffer from his misfortune. He travelled until his debts were paid and when that was accomplished he returned home. He was honorable.
Today, I was going through the obituaries, a habit I inherited from my Mom and came across the notice of a man who was my age who recently died. The quote is as follows, “Rob lived his own book of awesome”. I actually stopped reading and felt that though this man had died much sooner than anyone ever expected, what he had done is live his life to the fullest. Literally living his book of wonderful. How I wished that I could grasp that feeling and move through my life in that way.
What can one do to grasp the wonderful life we all deserve and rid ourselves of the pain that seems to disable movement forward in any meaningful way? Ahhh, if I had the answer to that I wouldn't be such a disappointment to my kids.
I was listening to my satellite radio today and a man was on talking about spirituality. There I was listening to one of the most meaningful thoughts I had heard in a very long time. He spoke of spirituality and religion and the differences. My whole life I have defined myself as a religion almost negating spirituality. Then I realized that what I have now is such a deep and abiding belief in God and his goodness and his availability to everyone and that finding my purpose that is mine to fulfill on this earth would be the first chapter in my own book of awesome.
So what am I on about? I need to quit mourning the loss of my religion and celebrate the grasping of my spirituality.
Oh, and by the way - meet MISSY, the newest member of our family,
Saturday, January 15, 2011
WOW - 12 hours later
http://www.australiangeographic.com.au/journal/brisbane-floods-did-the-dams-work.htm
I can't believe this week is nearly over. My new job keeps me so busy that time literally FLYS and the end of the day comes sooner than you ever wanted it to.
This was a full week - a new grandpuppy is amongst our family, GUS-GUS is a five year old British Bulldog that has been adopted from the local shelter. He is a gentle giant of a dog with a far greater fascination to PING then that old girl could handle so we now have her back. She is in heaven here but seems at a loss. She spent the first day and a half looking for the Rocketmen. I spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday in fear of what would be happening the K1 and A while they were in Brisbane through the floods. All is well and they were evacuated to higher ground. The city is a stinky, muddy mess so in spite of that my greatest relief is they are safe. I will be heading down in a couple of weeks to visit.
I saw this article about the difference having the dam upstream made to the city. It made me think about preparation and pre managing disaster both in the physical aspects and emotional aspects of our lives. I had a visit from a dear friend this week. She's a busy lady and she came and we discussed the challenges I have had as well as hers. It was a great conversation. There are some who have made it a point to ask why I don't go to church, some will express that they miss W and I, D too. Others will criticize but the universal sentiment is: "after being so strong and enduring so much, why give up now?"
The answer is very simple and two fold: the taunting and torment of those "mean" ones is what drives the social culture of the church - it was never going to end as much as I have been told to ignore them or rise above it, it was NEVER GOING TO END. As long the voices from my past continued to fuel the contention and those that listened failed to follow through on ever grasping the concept of forgiveness and two sides to every story, my life there would always be filled with judgement and criticism. If my own brother can't even muster a kind word or even a hello, church isn't a place I choose to be, it hurts to damn much. Secondly - if my salvation continues to be forgettable to my leaders it must not be important as a general condition.
It boils down simply - I am tired of trying to fit in and fighting to fit in. The Gospel is universal and available to all, if others want to pervert it and put codicils are the exclusivity of it, so be it.
The dam above Brisbane saved that city from complete and utter destruction. Up river they prevented the water from ripping through the city by preparing much ahead of way. Same here, my floods come, over and over again. Damning the river of hurt far away makes what does get trough way more manageable. Besides, from the online communities I have been a part of, my harsh treatment isn't exclusive to my ward or even my stake. For some reason, just about everywhere, there are some members who feel they have a right to bring down condemnation based on the GOSSIP they hear. I am not the first person to be hurt or to walk away because of it and I won't be the last, of that I am sure.
I can't believe this week is nearly over. My new job keeps me so busy that time literally FLYS and the end of the day comes sooner than you ever wanted it to.
This was a full week - a new grandpuppy is amongst our family, GUS-GUS is a five year old British Bulldog that has been adopted from the local shelter. He is a gentle giant of a dog with a far greater fascination to PING then that old girl could handle so we now have her back. She is in heaven here but seems at a loss. She spent the first day and a half looking for the Rocketmen. I spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday in fear of what would be happening the K1 and A while they were in Brisbane through the floods. All is well and they were evacuated to higher ground. The city is a stinky, muddy mess so in spite of that my greatest relief is they are safe. I will be heading down in a couple of weeks to visit.
I saw this article about the difference having the dam upstream made to the city. It made me think about preparation and pre managing disaster both in the physical aspects and emotional aspects of our lives. I had a visit from a dear friend this week. She's a busy lady and she came and we discussed the challenges I have had as well as hers. It was a great conversation. There are some who have made it a point to ask why I don't go to church, some will express that they miss W and I, D too. Others will criticize but the universal sentiment is: "after being so strong and enduring so much, why give up now?"
The answer is very simple and two fold: the taunting and torment of those "mean" ones is what drives the social culture of the church - it was never going to end as much as I have been told to ignore them or rise above it, it was NEVER GOING TO END. As long the voices from my past continued to fuel the contention and those that listened failed to follow through on ever grasping the concept of forgiveness and two sides to every story, my life there would always be filled with judgement and criticism. If my own brother can't even muster a kind word or even a hello, church isn't a place I choose to be, it hurts to damn much. Secondly - if my salvation continues to be forgettable to my leaders it must not be important as a general condition.
It boils down simply - I am tired of trying to fit in and fighting to fit in. The Gospel is universal and available to all, if others want to pervert it and put codicils are the exclusivity of it, so be it.
The dam above Brisbane saved that city from complete and utter destruction. Up river they prevented the water from ripping through the city by preparing much ahead of way. Same here, my floods come, over and over again. Damning the river of hurt far away makes what does get trough way more manageable. Besides, from the online communities I have been a part of, my harsh treatment isn't exclusive to my ward or even my stake. For some reason, just about everywhere, there are some members who feel they have a right to bring down condemnation based on the GOSSIP they hear. I am not the first person to be hurt or to walk away because of it and I won't be the last, of that I am sure.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
On Being
~ I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive. ~ Gilda Radner
It's been just over a week and whether I wanted it to or not the world has moved on and life continues around me. For me, surviving it all meant getting back on the horse and still seeing and smiling and feeling like it really was just the death of a dog. Every part of my heart knows that Rocky was so much more than just a dog.
There was a funeral for a woman in my ward who was in her early 40's. She had a husband and four children, her son had just left on his mission, one of her daughters just getting ready to graduate from high school and her other daughters even younger still. I didn't go to the funeral. I barely knew her but I knew the impact she had on my K3 and I was grateful for her for that alone. This wonderful lady was one of the only YW leaders who even tried to understand K3. Christie had a gift that way. Thinking of how her family must feel, how their grief will be felt so much more than mine ever will helps me to understand living and breathing and pain. In time, I will find another dog but you can never replace a mother not matter how hard you try.... ever.
I feel lost some of the time now. I can barely sleep and spend most of my time thinking and over analyzing. K1 called - she needs surgery and will be going in for it early Feb. I have booked my flights and when thinking about whether to go not I don't think not going was ever was a thought. Half way around the world is not to far to be there when your children are scared or in pain. I can still be there for her and that was another reality check for me to know the grieving needed to end.
I am grateful that I have so much more love and living in my life than I ever thought possible. I just wish that when I closed my eyes to sleep that I could only see the possibilities of hope more often and that I could lose the feelings of loss. Time, I hope, will bring it back.
For now, I am focusing on my daughter and preparing my travels.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Funny How Things Are and Can Be.
It was a bit of a better day today - a crappy night because I got about 2 hours sleep but once I got to work and was head on full steam my mind went away from the pain and hurt.
I got home and W, K2 and I had supper. I had just gotten upstairs to change out of my work clothes when the doorbell rang. W answered it and in walked my Dad, straight off his two day car ride home from Utah. I worried about calling Dad about Rocky, I wondered if he would understand the pain. I knew he loved Rocky, they bonded the moment they met so I knew I had to call and at least let him know. Dad was grateful for the call and offered his condolences. I thought that would be it.... Dad isn't known for his warm and fuzzy personality even though Mom swore up and down that Dad was the biggest heart she knew.
SO, back to the story.... I came down the stairs and there was Dad holding a flower bouquet and a card and looking lost, almost heart broken. I asked him to sit and then he started - Dad does that sometimes, he just started talking and you get these amazing stories and insights and you feel blessed that he opened up. He spoke of having to put Lady dog down and tears welled up in his eyes. He had to put her down in 1986, nearly 25 years ago and tears still come when he talks about what she meant to him. I can only say that Dad and I shared something in that moment that only those who have lost their dearest K9 companion can share. I may be a bit of a wuz but I am proud to have had this kind of bond, at least once. I think it makes you a deeper more compassionate human.
I got home and W, K2 and I had supper. I had just gotten upstairs to change out of my work clothes when the doorbell rang. W answered it and in walked my Dad, straight off his two day car ride home from Utah. I worried about calling Dad about Rocky, I wondered if he would understand the pain. I knew he loved Rocky, they bonded the moment they met so I knew I had to call and at least let him know. Dad was grateful for the call and offered his condolences. I thought that would be it.... Dad isn't known for his warm and fuzzy personality even though Mom swore up and down that Dad was the biggest heart she knew.
Thanks again Rocketman, I beginning to see the light again and to feel less sorrow and feel more hope.
Monday, January 3, 2011
T-MINUS Three Days
I never thought that this loss I have suffered would affect me so deeply and so fully and even in my head, I keep repeating... "he was just a dog, he was just a dog" but nothing seems to make it go away. It's an ache at the pit of my heart and it hits every time I walk through the door and he's not there, wagging his whole body because of his docked tail or when I pull the covers up over me at night and there give so easily because he's not laying on them. Rocketman was the one thing that made it that I was never alone... ever and now, I feel alone and I am fighting grief in such a profound way.
I am so grateful for all of the well wishes and sympathy afforded me and I know that loving Rocky made me a better person. I know that Rocky brought to our family, at least W, the kids and I, a great sense of belonging and now, I understand the literature and the movies that deal with K9 companionship. I fell this loss so much I fell lost.
I know there will come a time when I walk through the door and I won't miss my little man, I know that pulling the covers up will not remind me of his absence but my heart and soul have been blessed to be the companion of such a great little guy. Wow, how lucky am I. Wait, how blessed was I to have that great dog in my life.
Yesterday, W and K4 and a friend went to the mountains. It was beautiful there and for a few hours my mind was on other things. We ended up going over some barriers to get a better view and pictures and it was slippery and a bit scary but so worth it. We climbed back out and as I reached the top of the hill there was a man with his new puppy who was the spitting image of my Rocketman but three times the size. The man looked at me and saw my face - he said "no worries, he friendly, he won't bite", I told him I wasn't scared that I was overwhelmed, that his dog looked like the dog I had just lost two days before. He offered his sympathies and I knew, Karma or the Universe or whatever you want to call it had helped me to understand that there is hope and movement forward. I asked what the breed was and he told me and I knew that when the time is right - it will be a goldendoodle.... for sure.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
My Rocketman
There are moments in your life that change you forever. One such moment happened just under 11 years ago when I let my heart open to a round golden ball of fur. He was alone and shyly looking up at K3 and I through the window and as our eyes met, I knew our song was harmonious and he was going to come home with us. The adage about the “puppy in the window” plays the aching chords of my heart as I type this. It feels in everyway that a part of my world that teaches me about the very basic rules of humanity has been torn apart and tested to see if it was ever real. I lost my most trusted companion and friend last night, it feels as if a part of my very soul has gone.
I said goodbye to him last night, tears are falling on the keyboard as I type. He was the PERFECT dog, the most absolute PERFECT dog and every moment of the life we shared together was a blessing granted to me.
How do you say goodbye to the soul that helped saved yours in some of the darkest moments of your life? How do you pay homage to the warmth that laid beside you as you curled into a fetal position searching you mind for relief when nothing ever afforded it? How do you ever come to terms with the loss of a dog who was your soul mate. I will miss my old man so much, so very much.
There was never a moment in his life that he didn’t give. Even in his death he hung on to say goodbye. As W brought him to me I knew he was going, I desperately want him to stay, I prayed so hard for him to stay but his purpose on this earth was served, he is at my mother’s feet now. To those who have shared this kind of bond, I know you will understand. I will miss this kindred soul forever, he touched my heart and held it through the worst and best moments of my life, I am forever in his debt.
I remember a time, at the darkest hours of my despair, this little man never strayed farther than a reach away from me. He protected me from harm, he made me laugh and he instinctually consoled me through so much more. He was more than my pet, he was my best friend. There are so many memories I could write about but my heart is broken in the remembrance and the pain still to close to the surface.
I know my loss is much less in comparison to the loss of a little girl I know who lost her mother this week and for that I am sorry. It doesn’t even pail in comparison and I do understand that but this hurts so deeply and so intently that I can barely breath.
Thank-you all for helping through this hard time. To Wayne who cradled Rocketman through what I am sure was the scariest car ride he has ever been on, to my children both near and far for their support and for my friend, who stayed to comfort me and do so without judgment thank you so much.And thanks most to the ROCKETMAN for being everything God ever intended a faithful companion to be and then more. You loss will be forever felt in my heart.


