hafacenturyncounting

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Archive for the category “How We Relate”

Love Always

This is about the one you left behind. Sit back and enjoy the ride, join me on a trip down memory lane.

His was a smile that was literally sunlight, I feel myself blushing as I recall the first time we kissed. I feel so silly because I still talk to this guy, we are friends; bound by the romanticized experiences of our youth and the knowledge that had we really gotten together I probably would not have a smile plastered on my face as I talked or wrote about us.

Now you positively will not get the details, this is a fill-in-the-blanks type deal left for you to DIY about yourself and your individual situation. I am only serving as a tour guide, suggesting points of interest to visit. He, however, set the standard for any and every man who followed. That is until I finally got him out of my system. It took years.

I know of  a few couples who have been married for decades now, I know a few couples who are happy, but I venture to say among them  all, I may know two who actually fall into both categories. One must applaud the effort it takes to maintain a marriage. Maybe they, like so many of us, still have a warm spot in their hearts for the one who “got away”. Maybe they, again like so many of us, thank their lucky stars that this very same special person did just that,”GOT AWAY”. Whatever the case may be, here is yet another memory to pack away in your mind for safe keeping.

When you do pull “it” out, when you look back, when you recall this source of joy and pain give yourself a break; the imagined expectation of a happy, love filled relationship was just not meant to be. As you think of the romance, think of what ended it, and realize life generally moves in the direction it is suppose to, whether we like it or not. If you’re lucky, like I am, you have a friend you can “love always”.

It All Began With A Lie

Let’s talk about “skeletons in the closet”. It’s origins in 19th Century England, the phrase has been tied to of course the shame/secrets of an individual or family that would be disastrous if discovered. Also from a more literal sense actual discovery of a body in a wall or  other uncommon place.

Here I am on an early Sunday morning talking about something that has made people cower in corners or at the very least expect their entire lives will be ruined, FOREVER. Premarital sex, okay I will say it simply because it is true I had it. There now what? I will not detail whether it was a source of pain or pleasure, whether it ruined or made my life, nor will I commit to “If I had it to do all over again…” how would I finish the statement. I am off and running.

I knew there were laws on the books about premarital sex, they reside under decency and morality umbrellas. After a brief thumb-through I found there were some 18 states that went so far as to tell you what position you could have sex in, oral sex was forbidden in several carrying a sentence of up to 20 years in Georgia, and even one state(Nevada, but no wonder) telling individuals they must use a condom.  Oklahoma does win the “kewpie doll” as being the state which actually does forbid premarital sex. Yes I am going to make light of this because if it is left up to the state or anyone besides an individual and their consenting adult partner/spouse what position is/is not permissible, I think most would agree they would have not to make it illegal, folks would just throw in the towel and say “forget it”.  However, one might even find the offenders to be so prevalent the prisons would become a popular, and in some instances a desired spot. Okay I said I was making light of this so “lighten up”!

Now we have to touch on the religious aspect. Sodom and Gomorrah come to mind first, then we have the beloved King David. Those of you even slightly familiar with the Bible, know why these three were chosen as a reference point. Therefore it is safe to say people have sex; they have been having it for a very long time, they lie about it, but the truth eventually comes out. Finally the setup is complete the skeleton, the law, and the Bible.

Pregnant, unmarried, under 21, and this is circa 1959 to 1964; if he’s a decent guy he will marry you whether or not it was his plan, but he just happens to NOT be.Now comes the reveal; it was a fling, you two were having fun, he’s married(or so he tells you) with children, and does not want more. The bottom line is, young lady, you are on your own. Your options are limited and relatively dangerous during this era.

The baby comes and you are bitter; your life is a struggle because you got caught when others doing the same thing did not. What you have done is a sin. Who will marry you now? You must put aside the thoughts of “YOU” and deal with the baby. At a time when there should be celebration of a new life there is an impending feeling of shame, despair, and doom.

Meantime, he goes on relatively unscathed. His children grow up with a father in the household, their mother his wife has the respect of her family and community. He got a pass, like so many others before him, like so many who will come after him. Sometimes he wonders about the young woman he was involved with, the one who was “tainted” because of him. However, he must cast those thoughts aside rapidly for HIS life could become undone should any of that experience come to light.

Yet there is a person left behind; a person who will one day wonder “why am I the only one who doesn’t have a father at the PTA meeting”, or a person who wonders “why are my eyes green and my hair curly when my brothers and sisters are straight-haired with brown eyes”. People wonder who they are, where they came from; it is this curious drive, the need to connect, that will lead them to and down a road of discovery, which may or may not end pleasantly for the parties involved.

In essence to say the man, the young woman, the predicament is one as old as the age of time is a gross understatement. Therefore, you either know of or have someone in your family who has a similar story in your past, present, or future. Judgmental people keep this story going; yes the cast changes, the circumstances alter a bit, but all-in-all the story is the same. One day there is a knock on the front door, a letter comes in the mail, or there is a phone call.  A closet door opens and here it comes, the skeleton, crashing down onto the floor scattering into hundreds of pieces. The lie is catching up. Be careful of the little seeds you plant in the dark, they grow, and appear in the light of day.

Deep Dark Chocolate

It shouldn’t be any other way. I grew up loving chocolate. Hershey invaded my life very early. When there was Russell Stover’s candy in the house it was the assorted chocolate box; at that time in my life all I knew about dark chocolate was it was the last candy I would eat, and that was through sheer desperation. The one exception,  which by the way still remains in tact, was OREOS. I cannot say enough about those cookies, so I will only say you love um or you’re not all there.

Time moves on, you grow and you tastes change, but my love of  milk chocolate remained pure. Pure, really, milk chocolate is cocoa in one of  it’s most processed form. I  do have to give honorable mention to the so-called white chocolate and it’s rich texture, even though the extreme sweetness over takes any substantial flavor. Now as our waistlines increase and blood pressure rises, we all know that dark chocolate has a hosts of positive affects. Yet it is difficult to equate good to you and good for you when we think of this decadence. We ladies for the most part crave this, our chocolate love or love of chocolate.

A few nights ago it hit me, I was in the mood for something sweet, I didn’t know what so I figured “go down the cookie aisle and you will find some chocolate love”. I fought and resisted the urge to go on and pick up the familiar blue package with the picture of the most beautiful cookie on the planet. There are no secrets or surprises there, no challenge, plus if all else failed I knew where I could get satisfaction.

Instead I reached for the milk chocolate creme filled Milano, for reasons unknown. I had them once before and felt they could take care of this wanton desire. I couldn’t wait until I got out of the store before I had ripped open the package and quickly bit into one. There it was nothingness and disappointment all in one blow. The cookie tasted “brown” not chocolate. It was sweet but clearly not enough cocoa was put into this recipe. I struggled through another bite but had to resign myself to”this was a mistake”. The only thing to do was to run back into the store and indulge myself.

However, I resisted and moved on but was this a success? I must ask because here we are 7 days later, and there is the need to talk about how unfulfilled I felt after that encounter. Delving deeper and deeper into the “chocolatety” question, I ask what is this truly about. How would I rank my chocolate love; experience(what I prefer), expectation(what I think I prefer) or pattern(what I have in actuality preferred) the answers would all be different. Although if you read me(literally), that revelation should not surprise you in the least.

Mother, Not For Just A Day

We search aimlessly at times to connect ourselves to something that will give meaning in our fast paced, ever-changing, ever challenging lives. However, it is not things that we need to connect to, but people.

We must battle with not becoming caught-up in marketing madness on all levels. They are very crafty with their campaigns too, they go for the jugular. In this case the second Sunday in May, they grab for the heart-strings. Mothers; who could begrudge a way to pay homage to the sweetest, most enamored lady most every one of us will ever know? She is a godsend. Well you don’t have to begrudge, but if you don’t do something you will feel negligent.

Let me tell you a little something about a mother, there is nothing so great or so small that comes from her child(ren), of whom she loves more than life, that she would not appreciate. However, if you don’t know it the fact that you ARE is enough for her. She has no expectations only hopes; she is the first to come to your aid and the last to abandon you even when she knows you are wrong. She knows and understands you better than you do yourself, for to her you are the better parts of her. Her love began before she laid eyes on you, and it continues until her eyes close forever, as we know it.

Jewelry or chocolates, dinner or a cruise, flowers or a card, whatever your plan is for Mother’s Day, let it be known that it is simply a day that happens once a year; but your love, respect, and appreciation for her is ongoing, the same way her everlasting love is for you.

A Boat Load Of Regrets

I short “No Regrets” was the comment I got from one of my readers. I loved the entire comment though. It is nice when people read you and have something  to say. This reader is a friend and on more than one occasion has inspired a piece or two. As a special note there are a number of my friends and family who get me to thinking, thus a blog appears. However, don’t look for yourself in my writing I value you far too much to put YOU specifically out here on the information highway without consulting or even warning you first. Remember the catch word here is INSPIRE.  Also “Boat” was not the word I wanted to use in the title  either.

Keeping the tempo of this “up” and holding the attention of my readers is very important. I do not want to become predictable, for I know you will loose interest rapidly. Yet in being real, I am NOT “Polly Sunshine”. I try not to be a fatalist and if I had to characterize myself I would say I’m a realist. I had a rough week and it took its toll on my weekend, my precious-longed for weekend. The collection of disasters had me looking back, trying to make sense of it all, I found myself lost in the sea of disdain with you-know-what, and I was sinking fast.

We are not alone is these human feelings and emotions. We are all simply trying to explain ourselves to a better place. Words you would have said, turns you should have taken roads you should have traveled. Lest we forget how much time we would like to retrieve. Boat Load of Regrets, No Regrets the only thing that actually has a marked change is your perspective.

In closing I got quite a surprising laugh as the events of the week and weekend were recounted. In a relaxed moment with yet another disaster averted, it was quipped as follows; “Yeah I thought things couldn’t get any worse and then the roof fell in”. Well that actually happened; we lived to tell about it, fixed it, and yes somehow managed to get a chuckle out of it all.

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

Tell me lies… can you hear Stevie Nicks’ voice? I remember that Fleetwood Mac Album and I say remember like I don’t have it, although I do. I haven’t played it in years and why should. I basically I can go to youtube, pull the song I want to hear up, and move on. If it strikes a chord in my soul I will go and play it on the stereo.

Music transports us to the places we have been and the places we want to be. Time is meaningless and virtually stands still. Our fabulous musicians say what we want to say and give our words such a beautiful melodic translation; in spite of the fact the words we are hearing belong to them, at the time. It doesn’t take away from the fact that we are feeling those same words.

Alright, how about a little bit on “pillow talk” and how the sweet little lies get tangled up in these conversations. I spoke to an “authority” and he shared his wonderful insight. He says he is being kind. Naturally, I want further explanation. There you are somewhere between dawn and daylight something makes you aware of the other soul close enough to touch and perhaps you are actually touching.  Your eyes meet, you cannot look away or roll over, you may want to but that just wouldn’t be right. A smile may be enough but that mouth of yours takes over… How many times has “I love you” or “You are so beautiful” slipped through because of the awkward moment. Then once you’ve said it no matter how you want to escape you know you have dug yourself a deeper grave.

Sometimes the silence is deafening and therefore in these instances it may seem that there is call for the lies. Resist, smile, and rub  your companions shoulders instead.  If you do you may face the same dilemma later, and perhaps you will then be better equipped.

Personally, I Am Very Private

This is a prelude to a piece that will be included in another section on the blog.

Although I am not a celebrated author (here I go..) I can tell a pretty good story, I think my writing is above average, and if only by the sheer numbers I have produced some readable work. I missed the point completely, at first.  I couldn’t explain it, I couldn’t put it into words, then I stopped and thought about it. I was amazed in a way, disappointed in a way, but now I do understand.

In a world and in an era where everyone wants to be seen, everyone wants to be heard, everyone wants their 15 minutes of fame; I got a surprise. Now I was going to do a piece about someone I do in fact know, and I was going to try to tell their very interesting, historic story. I prepared to interview them, I had an idea how I wanted to do this piece, I wanted to tell their story as individuals, but I wanted my readers to know about them as a couple as well.

However on my last encounter when I reminded and inquired , of the husband, if he would be ready to speak with me on my next visit.  In a pleasant way he told me he did not mind me telling his story as long as it was not going to be “naming names”. He went on to say there were things he just didn’t want to talk about and then he asked(may have forgotten) what I was going to do with this information. I think we have a tendency to look at our seniors with kindness and pity, we view them as grumpy and not in control  but  what this does is deprive, whether knowingly or not, them of what they deserve most of all RESPECT.

While telling their story may have been okay with his wife, maybe it really wasn’t clear or thought through. I say that because once again I am dealing and in the same mindset, with a society of  folks whose taglines could easily be “HEY OVER HERE LOOK AT ME!!!”

The aspiring writer in me was surprisingly not let down. This would be yet another challenge, and I saw an opportunity to not get one piece out of this encounter but two. The first is this piece, drawing attention to the fact there are some private people left.  The second will be in the Fictional Accounts category. It will not be lacking in content.

Back to the matter at hand, I thought how fortunate I was to have these particular people available to me. I have always, since childhood, enjoyed talking to people I was junior to in a chronological sense. I also enjoy talking to intelligent people. Longevity, in the most general way, has to be given credence to some degree of wisdom one gains by the virtue of mere existence. I both respect and admire my friends who will be the subject of my Fictional Accounts story, I just had to be reminded of this.

Why Do Your Children Hate You?

Have you ever asked yourself this question? As a wannabe good parent, I know every-so-often the thought does comes to mind. The arrogant among us say, “HELL no it doesn’t”. The realist know that no matter how hard you try there are going to be some”flies in the buttermilk” of child rearing.

After years of taking our own respective parents through changes they could not have imagined at our births, we are now the symbols of authority. Some of us detested the rules and regulations of our youth, some of us applauded the freedom from responsibility, but there were times when we were just not happy with good ole mom and dad.

The prom dress you couldn’t wear, the trip with your buddies unaccompanied by an adult more than 21 years old, the fast car they opted NOT to buy for you.  Did it ever occur to you that it was denied to you, NOT merely to make your entire life unbearable? Now your offspring has a tale or two that may need some of that same convincing about.

I admit as a parent I wanted to be more, give more, and in return expect nothing of my children but they have fun and  become responsible upstanding citizens, However, we humans are not made up like that. In order for us to become strong, we must struggle and fight. We must face challenges and adversity in order to rise to the occasion. Our character much like our bodies must be trained in order for that perfect form to emerge. Yet this is not what we are teaching and demonstrating to our young.

We indulge them, we make excuses for them, and when they do something wrong or incorrect WE try to fix things for them rather than make them stand up and assume responsibility for their actions.

We are, as parents, the perpetual “catch 22” in our minds. If we teach the hard lessons the hard way, we foster the idea that they will not love or care for us, we won’t be their friends. On the other hand if we protect and shelter them from these same hard lessons, when we are no longer here to fix the problems for them, they are angry at us for allowing them to be disillusioned and unable to cope.

They have no appreciation for what we have done, how we have sacrificed and why is that? I wonder if in their minds and cultivated since they were small; they consistently looked away, ignored, or missed the part where we said, “Now it is not always going to be this way, We will not be able to always fix this for you, EVERYONE won’t do this for you, because WE love you”.

To these same children, are we truly to blame? Are you angry at people who did the best they could for you; an individual with ever-changing wants, needs, and desires, who one day tells us to bud out  and the next days calls and asks to be bailed out.

From the first time we laid eyes on your precious tiny face we were in love with you. We knew our time to just be everything to you was short, we nonetheless cherished the thought of it while we could. Society, religion, the world tell us at a certain point in time we are no longer responsible for you; you must stand on your own, but dammit these sources don’t tell us how to just turn that love off. So we fight and battle and try so hard to get you to the point where you want to go, and get out there, and do YOUR thing. Without the “safety net” it is frightening and though others before you have done this, we did it, if you flinch or turn back to look at us, we still want to be there.

You are angry at us, but what if we were angry at you? Trust me it is quite unfathomable in most cases, because we love you so much what we house is hurt IF we think we slighted you in the most miniscule manner. We try to protect you from the outsiders and the strangers, but now in your disappointment and/or anger YOU  now act like the stranger we tried to keep YOU from, toward us.

What to do? It is simple fix it. Recognize the problem and do something actively or proactively. Yes it is hard it will be hard, but it is a learning situation and you all are collectively smarter than your parents. Finally, as an ending thought, realize this is all new and a learning experience for us as well.

I Will See You… Forever

Since April Fool’s Day immediately follows Easter this year I felt compelled to write about something serious and endearing. The blessing Friendship. I invite you into my story and in turn take a personal visit to yours.

I have one biological sister and felt so happy when she was born, because I lived in a male dominated household. Growing up in Kansas City, I knew who Mike Garrett and Lenny Dawson were, long before I knew Diana Ross and the Supremes. I learned to like “Gunsmoke” because my choices were limited and I was generally out numbered.

I survived until my sister came some 11 years later, in a completely different geographical area, but she arrived just the same. Oddly enough by the time she and I came to know one another, I had already met two ladies that would become a part of my life and remain there. Barring some  periods of separations we managed to reconnect. During the separation another lifelong “sister-friend” came into my life and since the day we met only distance has come between us. When distance kept me from my west coast lifelines, one was literally dropped in front of me to keep me going here in the south. Confident and feeling like there was no more room or need for another “sister-friend”, and seriously not thinking about it, one came from out-of-the-blue. There are others;  diverse, special and unique in independent ways, I do not need to name names. We women know that there is a sisterhood among us that defies bloodlines. We know what it is to connect, I believe it is cosmic and it is Divine.

We have gone to school together, graduated together and we have worked together. We  have thrown parties and showers for one another. We were in each others weddings. We attended births of our respective children, we are the guardians and godmothers of these same children; and when one of us looses a loved one we are there sharing in that loss feeling the pain, but giving the kind of support that we have come to know. When you cross the milestone birthdays, the major events in your life and the same names, faces, individuals seem to always be there; you know you are blessed. Friends for life is not to be taken lightly.

Reminiscent of lionesses in the wild, we co-exist as a unit. Caring for one another and our young alike, major difference being we do not share our mates. The human, civil, genuine parts of us takes over in this respect.  We have survived a lot, we have survived it all. Today I wanted to take time out and give tribute to these wonderful ladies that fall into this category, in my life. They know who they are and they know I love them. Whether we see one another every day or a few times a year, we somehow pick-up where we left off.  When we part it is NOT “I will see you later”, it IS “I will see you forever”.

Sleeping With Anger and Arrogance

What a combination. Add a side of frustration and the recipe is complete. Yes it is complete, but who wants any part of it? Certainly no one who is in their right mind. Sitting around marinating in ones own emotional firestorm is not healthy, especially if it is a negative firestorm.

The intent here was to present two sides from two individual positions, but that did not happen. Sometimes writing takes on a life of its own and the words write themselves. In general, the writing here on my blog is outside observations which have my personal stamp on them because I am the writer. Other times I have to stop because it seems my personal stamp is covering the entire writing. I hope I can successfully turn this generic so publishing it will not seem like a mistake. At the very least my hope is it hits a chord that  gives a sense of “common ground”.

Have you ever watched someone sleep, or awakened to realize the one you were sleeping with was watching you? It is a disarming feeling isn’t it. You want to feel good about it because certainly you would not put yourself in such a vulnerable state with someone who meant you harm. However, the contrary may be the truth.

Think about saying your prayers at night. They are as much ritual as they are anything; but then if your implement a bit of hindsight you REALIZE that not only should you thank the Lord for waking you to see another day, but for protecting you through the night, through your sleep, through your most vulnerable time.

What made the anger appear? Why wouldn’t the arrogance succumb, so that the apology could soften the blows? However, with this arrogance there is no room to be humble. This fuels the anger that resides nearby. They are in the “throws” of a vicious cycle. My friend tells me, “I don’t want to hear any regrets”.  I arrogantly say,” oh there will be none”. What does she know, what does she foresee? Wait, I’m supposed to be angry…and I am just that.

Then to add insult to injury you wake up with one more frown line in your face, or one more headache. Perhaps you don’t wake up, because you were unable to sleep at all and this is cause for wonder…Really.  This is no way to live. Problems are resolved by getting them out there, and talking about them. They will not simply go way if you ignore them, certainly not at this level. Therefore, talk it out and don’t go to sleep with these two elements hanging over you head. It does not make for a restful night.

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