Love wins

There's just no understanding loss, or how it will affect you.  Life is full of winning and losing, making choices and taking responsibility, living life together and alone.

I'm a fairly cautious person.  I like things that are reliable and stable.  That works for some things. Unfortunately, not for things that involve people.  People are the "wild card" in our lives.  For the most part, you can't train them.  You can't force them to stay with you.  Or make them love you.  Or trust them to never hurt you.

My family is suffering the loss of someone we love.  No one died.  She just chose to move on.  There was no warning.  No precipitous fight or obvious breakdown of relationship.  Just blind-sided.

I feel lost.

I feel the loss of her as though she were my own child.  I'm lost as to how to process these feelings. I'm lost as a parent.  How do I help my child through this?  This is so out of my realm of experience.  I tend to be more of a burn-the-bridge kind of person.  You know the type.  Just cut and run.

But I can't do that this time.

I know she's in pain, too.  Deep down inside.  Perhaps too deep right now for her to even acknowledge. She needs stability and reliability, to know people who love her will stay, even when she tries her hardest to drive them away.

So, here I stand, in the middle of all the insults being hurled at me, trying to keep being an adult.  Trying not to lash out when accusations fly.  Trying to maintain my calm instead of going Rambo on the person causing my child so much pain.

Love wins.  Always.

I'm not talking romantic love.  Genuine love.  The kind that wants better for the other person.  The kind that looks beyond the hurt to see the pain.  The kind that makes all efforts to understand what is going on on the inside, and not judge by outward actions.   That kind of love WILL win.

It has to.

It's a Long Jump

I've been feeling a strange little stirring for the past few days.  No, I'm not pregnant, so it's not that kind of stirring.  It's a restlessness, an unsettled feeling, a -dare I say it- need for change.  Change and I aren't usually on speaking terms.

Truth be told, I started this post about two months ago. And, yes, I'm still feeling this way.  Physically, there has been many changes.  Most of which I'm not happy about.  There's been emotional changes, too.  Those are way more complicated than any physical change could ever be.

After living in somewhat of a cocoon for five years or so, I feel like I am finally emerging and facing the world in a new way. I'm ready to take back things that were stolen from, or lost to, me.  I'm done hiding in the shadows, believing the lies spoken to me, about me.  But it's hard taking that first step!

I feeling like I'm teetering on the edge, in danger of falling from a cliff.  I also know, though, that the only way to fly is to be pushed out of the nest, with nothing to break the fall but the ground.  I think this step is harder the second time around. I did fly once.  I was strong, brave and courageous.  I was out there.  I was doing. And then I was shot down.  There was no blaze of glory. It was a fiery, hideous crash!  That experience makes it even harder for me to step off the ledge again.

Yet the stirring continues.

I'm Running On... Running on Empty

Well, it's official.  I just registered for my first 5k.  I might have agreed to it in a moment of mental weakness, but now I'm committed.  Or, maybe, should be committed.

I can't tell you the last time I ran. Not for ANY thing.

Rain.

Being late.

Ninjas chasing me.

So, I'm easing my way into this, at least until Lety gets me in training mode.

I made two very important decisions about this: 1) I chose a race fairly far away, and 2) it happens in the dark.  I happen to think I do some of my best running after dark.  Fear is a great motivator to increase my speed.  But, more importantly, in the dark no one can see all my jiggly bits.

Catching the Wind

I think I might start running.

I know, that sounds crazy, even for me.  It's not something I have done before.  Well, not in the physical exertion way. I'm a marathon runner in the emotional aspect.  But that's a whole other blog.

Running is not something I have ever really wanted to do.  Even as a kid I disliked it.  I was that kid who got a stitch in her side running gym class, or playing tag with the neighbors.  I even told kids I only had one lung in order to avoid running games.

Swimming was my thing.  I could swim laps for hours.  It didn't feel like exercise.  Riding bike was good, too.  Feeling the wind blow on my face and seeing how quickly the miles went by made it fun, not exercise. But running?  Well, running was just so... blah.  It seemed so tedious and monotonous.

A few times during the last couple of years I have heard "start running".  Me? Right!  I have arthritis in my feet and my knees are bad. I'm too fat and everything would bounce around, scaring all the innocent bystanders.  I have no coordination and will trip myself which could mean I'd break a fingernail.

Please.

In '99 I had gastric bypass.  I launched into an intensive walking regime.  It was the only form of exercise I could handle without tremendous physical pain.  As the weight came off and my stamina increased, I had to keep adding to my walking route to keep up the momentum.

And sometimes I'd hear "run".  I actually thought about it, too.  For a fleeting moment.  Then I'd picture myself rolling down a hill or falling off the sidewalk and the thought would fade.

When we moved into the city, I had visions of walking everywhere.  Why would I need a car, right, being so near to everything?  Well, because of this little thing called cold weather.  It's the bane of my existence.  The cold causes pain, but so does the inactivity.

It turns out that science had also debunked some of my myths for not running.  With proper technique and quality shoes it won't tear my knees apart.  The glut of compression clothing would minimize jiggling.  (I still question that one, though.)

When the hubby and I were out to dinner the other night, I  could see people running on the third story of a nearby building.  I wondered at this marvel, in the city, people running in the sky.  Turns out it was the Y and they have an indoor track.  That seems doable to me, running inside where spectators would be at a minimum.

I don't know.  I just might look into it.  And if I get started soon, I'll be in the routine before the warm weather hits and I can run outside.  If you're one of the unfortunate people who happen to see me running, close your eyes.

I Refuse to Keep Being the Chaser

I have lived a lot of places.  That means I have known a lot of people, some of whom I thought were good friends.  It's easy to fall into this false sense of security when you live near someone and see them on a regular basis.  When you move away, however, it becomes painfully clear how one-sided most of these relationships were.

I've fought a long, hard battle (one I continue to fight) to overcome tragedies and pain from my past.  Letting people "in" is still a conscious choice; one I don't make lightly.  But what is the point of all this growth and healing, of letting people in and being vulnerable to them, if they drop me as soon as I'm out of their sight?

I've come to realize that even when we were "together", I was the one who did all the inviting and planning, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised it isn't any different now.  How are people content with this?  How is it okay to just drop people?  It's a sad commentary on the human state, our selfishness and self-centeredness.

Well, I've decided I am important.  I am worth people's time.  I have a lot to offer.  And I'm no longer going to be the chaser.  If you don't have time for me, I guess that's your choice.  And your loss.  I guess you might notice, but I'm not going to hold my breath.  That could take too long.

Steps are Ordered, for a Reason

I'm sure you've all heard the expression "everything happens for a reason".  I'm not sure I believe that, but I do think everything can be used for a lesson. Things don't always make sense when they're happening.  So, then, why is it so easy to see the path it forms when I look back in hindsight?

I have two children.  My daughter, the older one, was always easy.  There were no "terrible twos", adolescent tantrums, drugs or running away.  She followed the rules, accomplished the things she set her mind to do, and thrived in whatever situation she found herself.  We never had any worries about how she'd turn out.

My second child is a son.  He's as different from his sister as night is from day.  As a toddler, I couldn't turn my back on him for a minute.  If it was quiet, I'd better go see why.  He pushed every boundary we set.  He disregarded anything he didn't find important, like homework or chores.   But he made it through high school.

The other day, my hubby and I were reviewing the past year and a little beyond.  We started out talking about how things went financially and what we were able to accomplish, though not quite everything we'd hoped.  Then, we moved on to our kids and the places they are in their lives and what they achieved over the past year.

Our daughter in a preschool teacher in a head start program on the Cherokee reservation in North Carolina. She's also going to college. Her plate is full, but her life is rewarding.

Our son attends culinary school in New York.  I mentioned to my husband how glad I was that our son had attended pastry school prior to culinary school.  I thought he needed that extra time just to get ready for the pressures of his chosen industry. My husband said he was glad for the job our son had, working in a fast-paced kitchen under a chef who saw his potential and urged him on.  Then we realized he'd never have had that job had he not worked in a German bakery prior to that and made friends with the pastry chef there who, ultimately, got him the job in the restaurant.

Each step was needed to build up to the next.  There's no doubt that his "personality", his tenacity, as a child helped prepare him for a really tough industry and will enable him to thrive there.  Looking back and seeing how each step happened is humbling for a parent.

Let's keep taking steps and making strides.  Don't be discouraged when, in the moment, it seems like progress is slow-going.  I challenge you to set aside some time, on a regular basis, to look back and see just how far you've come.  Recognize the steps, knowing if they happened in any other order, you'd be out on a limb.

Dun Dun Dun, Another One Bites the Dust

Wow!  Another year has passed.  This one seemed particularly long, while passing quite quickly.

One of last year's resolutions was to write more, and I got off to a great start.  As do most resolutions.  As you can probably guess from the name of my blog, this one has mainly been a place for me to vent; often with humor, sometimes with pain, and mostly dripping in sarcasm.  But I also made a resolution to be a kinder, gentler version of myself.  This presented a conflict of interest.  It became increasingly harder to do both of these well and, well, the writing suffered.  Add to that that I became involved with a GREAT group of young people this year.  People who look up to me.  People who make me want to be positive and really think about what I say and write.  (Thanks, guys!)

So, I am carrying over those two resolutions (choices, improvements) from last year.  I will to write more this year, whether it be here or in my food blog.  While I am hoping to control my venomous tendencies, I will continue to write from my heart, raw emotions and all.  I believe it's important to keep being honest and true to myself, while challenging myself to do it better.

I'm choosing to continue to grow. There's still many layers to this onion, but I'm committed to peeling them back and chopping it up!  If I know one thing, it's that you can't shut it back up once you've started.  It just doesn't work!  Pain is, well, a pain, but it does have it's positive aspects.  I've connected with a great group of ladies this year who are going through this same process.  While our stories may not be the same, our journey really is.

I'm choosing to continue to temper what I say.  I'm not saying everything is going to be filtered.  Come on, you know me.  That's so not going to happen.  But I am going to remember those looking to me for leadership and guidance.  I don't want to let them down or turn them into me.  (The world isn't ready for that!)

Last year I also resolved to let people know how I feel about them, positively.  I pretty much rocked this one!  While this one was/is really hard for me, it got/gets easier the more I do it.  I was often surprised at how people reacted to this.  I am reminded everyday of how important this is.  Tomorrow is not guaranteed.  I never know when it might be too late.

So, Happy 2014!