Full moons and Home Parties

I always hear the expression, is it a full moon today?  It's usually an expression of someone who is having a bad day or dealing with nutty people with attitudes.  Well I work with the public, so, let me tell you, if it wasn't a full moon last night, it probably should have been.

I won't bore you with the details of my day, just the high points.  I had a candle party today.  Well, sort of a party.  Our bank allows employees to have a party of sorts of the break room during lunch.  I had a candle party.  Not many showed up, but it should be enough to make a decent showing.

The home party biz is an odd thing.  I can speak from experience because I've been one of those ladies.  I used to sell jewelry on the side.  Daytime banker nighttime jeweler.  Cute, I know.  The company I worked for was what I call, one of the good ones.  However, I sometimes wonder at the personalities that this kind of business draws.  To be a salesman, whether you are selling electronics or make-up, all have to have a level of confidence that some people shrink from.  When I see someone take on the knock-down-drag-out world of home party sales that can't say hello to you without looking at their hands, I cringe.  I give them two weeks and a huge dent in their bank account from all the supplies they had to order. 

The real hard sellers are the ones that get others like me to do this.  I was told I had the "gift" to recruit others to sell.  I was already using that gift to get people to take out mortgages and buy annuities.  I was replete of the energy to add to my plate.  Selling the bling was not that hard.  Most ladies like jewelry, selling the biz was not my cup of tea.  I was successful as a jewelry lady, my life changed suddenly, so I had to let it go. 

I guess the moral of this rambling post is for you to choose your career wisely, don't let it choose you.  If you are going to be a Mary Kay lady, be the pinkest and most Mary Kayer you can be.  If you are going to sell jewelry, be a perky jewelry lady.  I could go on. 

Today it was candles for me.  In the less than correct vernacular of the folks, "I love me some candles!"

Too much of a good thing....

I remember not too long ago that I was commiserating about the fact that my husband was out of a job.   As a musician for most of his life and a Army National Guard retiree, he has had at least two careers.  But as a musician, he, like many of his brethern, seem to have varying job success.  Most people who hire look at the experience of someone who has spent most of his adult life performing as less than ideal.  What they fail to realize is that someone who has the dedication to learn an instrument, practice it and get to the level where people PAY you to play it is someone you need to have in your company. But I digress. 

Luckily Dan has been working now, for about a year, at a local auto parts plant.  He works third shift, so he sleeps during the day while I'm at work.   Initially, we felt, that this wasn't going to be that much of a change in our lifestyle.  It hasn't been too bad,  until January.   Now he is working 7 days a week, and sometimes 12 hours a day.  Dan is a hard worker, but he isn't 25 anymore either.  This is seriously kicking his butt and also making it difficult to do anything but eat, sleep and work.   The worst is that he has not been able to go to church with me for at least 3 weeks.  We both play in the services, but without his "melody" trumpet, my "harmony" trombone would sound very odd.  So if he doesn't play, neither do I. 

So, I am happy and blessed that he was work and that he is making some desperately needed money right now.  But, this morning he said he doesn't know when this is going to end and he has to go in early tonight.    So, for the foreseeable future I will be a work widow. 

Morale of the story is be careful what you pray for, you might just get it! 

Coming back to life

If you are a follower of this blog, you realize that Sunday, and the week preceeding it, were not the best of times for me.    However, as I woke this dreary Indiana morning to the rain pelting down, melting the snow, fog rising as people bustled back to work in the Irelandesque damp cold, I found myself revived.  It doesn't take much these days for me to realize how fortunate I am.  That is what death and grief gives you, the ability to see beauty in even the most unwelcoming of days.    The temporary respite of winter that came in the form of cold rain showers is going to be just that, temporary.  We have snow and possible ice to look forward to this afternoon and later in the week, but I will get by. 

My husband, Dan, is working 7 days a week right now.  Poor guy.  Third shift isn't that fun 5 days a week, let alone 7.  I try to baby him as much as I can while putting in my own 40-50 hours a week.  He seems to like it, so I continue to do it.

So those of you reading, take heart.  I am back among the land of the living.  Hope you can find beauty in your day, depsite how cold or dreary it might be outside. 

One Fine day: A venting post for Sunday

You live day to day.  Getting out of bed, going to work, going to church, doing tasks.  You go to the grocery, you talk to people, you answer emails, you pay your bills.    The list could go on and on, but suddenly, on one fine day, the sun is shining-you feel pretty good about yourself and the world and....WHAMMO!!!!

You look around your home, your office and even your car and you start to see all the things that your loved one touched, gave you are talked to you about.  You reach for your cell phone and want to tell this person about the great joke you saw on the Internet that day, or ask them how they made that special you dish you liked.  You see the flower they made you standing in your office, still dripping with the love and attention that this person took to make it special and nice.  You realize that the love that person gave to you in this life will never be duplicated.   Then the doubts start.  Did I really listen to everything they had to say the weeks leading up to their death, or did I simply dismiss them as the ramblings of a degenerating mind and not really take to heart what they said.  Did they resent that when they stepped over the river to take the hand of God?  Did they think, why wasn't she there with me holding my hand as I died?  Why couldn't she be there as took that last breath? 

As you can see, these aren't just the doubts of some random person, they are mine.  I wasn't with my mom when she died.  I wasn't with her every minute as she went through the "process".  That is a guilt I will take with me the rest of my life.  But as my husband so sagely said, "your cup was full"  you couldn't take another minute of the pain.  That is why I was stepped in and the rest of the family did to let you and your Dad deal with it how you could.   My husband was with my mom when she died, so was my dad and the hospice nurse.  Not me.  Not the person that was intended for that.  Not the person that my mom showered so much love on her entire life.  Not the person that, in her own words, was the reason she kept living when she had cancer as a young woman.  I know my Mom isn't in heaven right now sitting around with my Grandmother and Grandfather saying how disappointed she is with me or how heart broken she was that I wasn't there. My mom wasn't that type of person in life, so why would she be that type of person in death?   But, to me, I know I hurt her by not being physically present and this is a hurt and pain I deal with on a daily basis. 

Grief is funny.  It isn't like any other thing you will ever go through.  It hides and relaxes, taking a nap for months on end, then it appears out of nowhere and decides it wants your attention again.   One of my friends mentioned that it wasn't the daily pain it was the emptiness.  That is what it is.  Emptiness. 

I have a full life, don't get me wrong.  I live daily with the love of Christ, my family and friends.  I have a good job that takes my time and a church family that is supportive and loving.  But its what the veterans call the "empty chair".  It's when I go to the Chinese restaurant with my Dad and my husband and they say table for three?  No!  It should be table for FOUR!!  Its the anger I get when I hear someone chatting about how they went shopping with their mother over the weekend, they called their mom and she said this or that.  My mom was only 65 years old!!  I was supposed to be having silly conversations with her, decorating Christmas Trees, going shopping and laughing about the stupid stuff my dad does sometimes for at least another 20 years!  My dad shouldn't be going from room to room in a house dripping with her essence wondering what he will do that day that will take his mind off the searing loneliness that is permeating his life!  It isn't fair!! 

Sigh.  Sorry, I had to say that.   Years ago, I wondered if I would lose my mind when my Mom died. She hadn't been what a normal person would call "well" for decades.  We knew her death was not that distant of a possibility.   I wondered if I would collapse mentally, have to quit my job, and retreat into myself for years.  I would lay awake at nights wondering what it would be like.  When that didn't happen, and life sort of went on, I thought, wow, this isn't as bad as I thought it would be.  And, for the most part, it really hasn't been.  But there are days, even weeks, where I wonder if I can put one foot in front of the other.  As with most people, I hide myself in busyness.  But the body can only take so much before it says "no" and you must rest.  I had thought about taking a leave from work, but what good would that do I wonder.  Work has kept me focused and given me something to direct my energies.  I don't think that is a solution.  Running away from life, is never a solution-only a temporary respite.

So, as I felt the world crashing in on me yesterday I felt the still, small voice of God saying.  Come to me and I will give you rest.  Take my hand, sit down and just be quiet.  So that is what I did today.  My husband had to work 7 days this week and he is asleep in the other room.  There is no TV on, no Radio, no IPOD, no sounds but his distant snoring and the occasional irritated meow from my cat as he insists I come back to bed with him.  Tomorrow is a holiday, so I have it off too.  I intend to slowly listen to what the Lord is going to say to me, in the quiet of my home.  I will listen as I have never listened before. 

Every persons walk down the grief trail is different.  This, just happens to be mine. 

The New Year

Between all the Weight Watchers commericals, the exercise equipment ads, and the shows about new years resolutions, you would think that all we care about in this country is eating, our appearance, and ourselves.  Which, is pretty much the truth.  I mean, honestly, I am sitting her writing a blog. There is nothing more self-centered than a blog if you come to think of it.  You talk about yourself or something close to your heart and hope others will read it.  The little kid in you hopes that you will get lots of comments. 

To keep with the spirit of this blog, my Mom was about the most un-self-centered person I knew.  She thought of everyone before herself, until she had to only think about herself just to survive.  I was talking to my father the other day and he made the comment that someone told him he looked younger than he was.  I mentioned that if he hadn't had all the health worries with my Mom, he would look even younger.  I then thought about that with me too.  I probably have more gray hairs and bags under my eyes because of it.

But, would either of us have done anything differently?  No. 

So as you watch all the "me" commericals this time of year, remember.  Doing for others has its rewards, even if it means Jenny Craig, the Total Gym, and your local plastic surgeon may be getting your money.