Sentimentalism is not Sadness

Life in the 21st century has made us jaded.    People are cynical, think that showing any kind of tenderness is weak and try to cover up things with humor.  So when people get sentimental and open, people think :  "Are they depressed, or sad?"

I would scream if I could, but screaming looks crazy in text, so I won't.    It's ok to be introspective, thoughtful and yes, sentimental.  Its not a dirty word.  IT ISN'T!!!!

Sorry, I was screaming again. 

Sorry this is a short one.  I may expound later, but right now, all I have.

Life in Pictures-or Why Pinterest has become my New Thing

If you would have asked me prior to this year what Pinterest was, I would have known it existed, but I didn't quite get the point.  Pinning pictures onto a cyber bulletin board?  Really?  Why?  Has society become so dependent on the interent and so easily distracted that we can find fun just browsing through pictures and pinning them on our boards.   Well, in a word, yes.

I am now a newly indocrinated Pinterest junkie.  Someone who went from three boards, with generic stuff on them to 24 boards with all sorts of pins in about three months.  Yeah, I'm in deep.  So, in a attempt to explain this phenomenon and also to justify my own time wasting activities on this site, I decided to blog about it. 

The world has amassed a huge amount of pictures of just about anything you want a picture on.  To be more precise, yes a picture is worth a thousand words.  Pinterest is more than learning about someone's personality by viewing what pictures they find interesting and "pin worthy", but this is a chance to see pictures of things that, frankly, may have rested on the bottom of someones closest forever or on a back shelf in a library. 

  To my shame, I personally get a thrill when I see tons of people I've never met repinning pictures I share or start following one of my boards.  It has absolutely NOTHING to do with me of course, just that I must pick nice pictures that people want to share.  But it still feels good.  And I think that's what this site is about.  It feels good to look at nice pictures.  It makes us feel good and a little more secure to see pictures of shocking things that may have happened to others, or makes us feel good to think about our favorite rock star or movie.  Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, all have the same aim, to make its users feel good.  Lately, Facebook has started to wear on me.  Getting my belly full of too much politics, agendas and the like.  On Pinterest you can just browse pretty pictures, pin the ones you like and move on.  If a picture offends you, so what.  You can move past it to a slew of others less objectionable. 

To be completely honest, I started getting more interested in Pinterest because of Freddie Mercury.  This man could quite possibly be one of the most photgraphed people I've ever seen, and I intend to get them all!  Yes I do!  It has become a competition.  I look at other boards and see if they have more pins and I have to get more.  Luckily Freddie liked to be photographed because I need pins baby!!
I, however, refuse to pin pictures snapped of him by the paparazzi when he was sick.  That just makes me angry.

I actually would like to start a blog that goes along with Pinterest.  The story behind the picture.  I love to analyze pictures and wonder what was going on in that picture and what people were thinking.  Maybe that is my next time killer.  Who knows!

The Wild and Wonderful Ways of Grief

Something weird happened to me about a month ago. I had a dream about Freddie Mercury. Now to stop my groaning friends that might be reading this blog and have tired of my recent glut of all things Freddie, I am not going to do into a long examination of my love and affection for the Mercurial One. I just want to show how the most odd things can bring you through the wilds of grief. Not odd in itself that I should have a dream about him. I have always found him fascinating, egnimatic, and just plain wonderful. But the intimacy of the dream and the timing were what took me by surpise.

  The dream, as I came to find out many days later, was less about him and more about me. As most people know Freddie died of aids in 1991. A disease with degnerative qualities, that causes other diseases, it made me think long and hard again about the loss of my Mom as we round the corner to year 4 since she died. Not so much that she DID die, but how she died. It was quite a horrible way to go, and I don't wish it on anyone. But walking the road down the death of Queen's frontman, examining his life and his lack of connection to people, his sometimes ebullient joy at just living, and his shaking the hand of finality has made me examine my own walk I made with my Mom.

Mom loved life. Always did. She lived life with such joy, trying to wring every little bit of it out for herself. A sickly child who became a sick young adult, she never expected to make old bones. So she never did anything half way. From pushing me to try all sorts of things, to decorating her house for Christmas bigger and better than anyone else, to making sure my wedding was Better Homes and Gardens worthy, Karen K. Kirby-Jones sucked the marrow out of life in a way that I wish I could sometimes.

  So, I should not have found it surprising that she made it through Cancer, Heart Disease, and a slew of brushes with death, only to die of one of the most rare degenerative diseases out there. 90% of people I meet have never heard of the disease she died of. That was "so" Mom. The doctors couldn't even agree on what she had and all of them said she was probably suffering from two diseases. Really? Only my Mom could be that different and special. Not a great way to be special, but it exhibited a point that I am making here. Walking down the road to your final reward isn't always pretty or easy. Sometimes people die gently in their sleep. Some, struggle with heaving horrible gasping breaths. But in the end, we all die. Each of us has a decision to make. How will we live on the road to eternity?

   Don't get me wrong, death is horrible and I'm not making light of it here. But what I am saying is that while we are living, we need to remember that life is fleeting and death even more monumentous than birth. We can die badly or we can die well. Even though the last days of my Mom's life were tragic and hard, she fought the good fight--and for that, I will always remember those days as the hardest but the most meaningful of my own life up to this point. My Mom would have agreed with Freddie. My smile may be fading, my make-up may be flaking, but my smile still stays on. The show must go on, my dears. Make it a good one.

The Day after Thanksgiving-Year 3

The day after Thanksgiving brings forth pictures of Black Friday, sales, the start of the Christmas season. When I was little, we always put up the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving. A tradition I haven't always kept. Usually, due to work, other times, just because I didn't feel like it. I spent yesterday with my extended family. I haven't done that in a couple of years. There aren't as many of us around as there once was. The older ones have died off, or are in nursing homes. The ones that are considered the "older" generation now were there, minus my Mom of course and another uncle who had passed this year. There aren't that many kids either. The "kids" which I used to be one of were mostly there. Their kids now are in college, or out in the world themselves. They haven't gotten to the age yet to have little ones. We watched home movies. I thought it would be a good idea to sit and enjoy a walk down memory lane. Most everyone enjoyed it, but it left me feeling more depressed than I thought I would. The whole lead up to the holiday has been tough on me this year. It's weird, but it has on my dad too. I didn't know this, of course, till a few weeks ago. It's odd how our emotions are in sync, even when we don't discuss it. Decided not to put a Christmas tree up this year. Everybody understands of course, but when I say I am not doing the present thing this year either, I get the odd looks. Don't get me wrong. I like buying gifts for people and enjoying the bacchanalia that is the Christmas season as much as the next person. Just not this year. One, money is tight, as it is for everyone, and two, I just don't have it in me. My Dad is fine, my kitty is fine, husband is fine, I am fine. Job is ok. Other than some financial stress, life is ok. This year, I see my Mom's face in every Christmas light, in every piece of holly or wreath. It's just plain hard. I guess people don't know how to act around those who decide they want to wear sackcloth an ashes at a joyous time of year. I have grieved these past 3 years, its true. But I have put off my grief to be the "glue" for a lot of people. My glue is cracked and flaking. I need to deal with some of my issues. Maybe it will turn around for me in a few days. Maybe not. Either way, I intend to let it run its course..

Walking the Walk

Have you ever been talking to someone and you think, "This person has no clue what I'm going through and no idea what they are talking about." 

I imagine you probably thought it and didn't say it, but it still bothered you anyway. 

My little post today is about walking the walk, not just talking the talk.  To preface, someone doesn't have to have gone through exactly what you are going through to give you advice or to give you comfort.  But to give the cliched, "I know exactly what you must be going through"  line is stupid.  Don't say that to anyone.  Ever.   Nobody knows exactly what a person is going through, because you aren't them.  Don't offer advice to people when they don't ask for it and don't be syrupy sweet with them.    Sorry for the rant.   Now on to my subject.

One of the most off-putting things a person can do around someone that is grieving, sad, or going through a tough patch is to offer advice about it and not do it themselves.  Raising hand::::  Yeah, I've done it.  It drives me crazy when other people do it, so I need to walk the walk.  Can you tell that this is more for me than the reader?  When I tell someone not to stress, I need to not stress about the same exact thing.  When I tell someone to trust in God, I need to do it too.  When I tell someone not to gossip, judge or do any other myriad of things I might say to someone, I need to not do it either. 

What does the first paragraph have to do with the second?  Sometimes people offer advice, comfort, or false platitudes to people that have lost a loved one, have a disease, have lost their job, or are just plagued by stress and anxiety and A)have never experienced anything even close to what you are going through  B) wouldn't follow the advice they are giving if there was a gun held to their head or C)Both.

For readers of my blog, you know I lost my mother about three years ago.  Now most people, unless you are very young or just plain fortunate, have lost somebody close to you.  But everyone is different.  You may not have been in the same situation or had the same exact thing happen to you the same exact way.  The way people die or deal with death is as different as we are as people.  Remember that. 

Also, if I catch you saying I know exactly what you are going through, I might have to do something physical.  After all , it will be for your own good.