hafacenturyncounting

Motivated by a lack of material.

Archive for the tag “relationships”

TEMPTED

I suppose all of us have a story of our near destruction or demise. We all have our Achille’s Heel”. Mine happened 13 years ago and it was a narrow escape.

You know your very life is planned before you are born, what happens along the way is YOU make these last minute decisions that change everything around. There are only so many detours you can take before the entire trip is forever altered though, so you have to figure out your number and act accordingly.

My number was 13; I was on error# 15 when I figured this out. They were of course not all the same type of mistakes. I would be on the right road and BOOM!I would go over that bump a little too hard.  As I look back it was a pretty easy thing to surmise because all the signs and hints were there. I just closed my eyes and turned my back on the truth, but that 13 was always there. Just when I thought I had conquered my demons and I was strong, he’d bring out the “big guns”. Lucifer whispered in my ear, ” You belong to me..  but see what I have for you. It’s not all bad.” Then he’d laugh loudly in my face.

I was so full of myself, I could barely stand being in the room with “me”. My husband Marc was going on and on about where had I been, but it seemed as though he was speaking a foreign language. I looked at him in confusion and walked away. I heard glass shattering as I closed the bathroom door. Sunday morning rolled around and he nudged me, “We have to get ready for church”. I would not present a protest today.

Marc studied my face as I got dressed, I saw him out of the corner of my eye. Meanwhile, I was having flashback moments of Frank and I. He was standing behind me, removing my blouse as we kissed… Then I shook the thought. Marc was glaring at me; it was as though he not only knew what had been going on, but he knew my thoughts from moments ago.

Beautiful, beautiful Frank. The devil himself sent that man to me. He had EVERYTHING I wanted in a man and he seemed to adore me. Just one minor draw back he was as married, as I was, and his wife well she was nothing to sneeze at.  She was educated, attractive, plus she had a license and his children. What did Frank see in me? At many points in time when we were together I did not give a damn. When we were laying in bed naked, all I had to do was look at his gorgeous face an all was well. I could tell myself all kinds of lies and  give many different excuses. He made me feel as though I counted. Marc didn’t even know what my favorite color was and he had been married to me for all of these 15 years.

Frank and I never talked about our spouses. I would have told him anything he wanted to know, if I thought it would bring me closer to my desired destination, with him. I knew better. Instead we would meet for coffee and talk for hours about work, politics,music, ethics, entertainment, and philosophy.  He acted like he could NOT wait to be in my company and it didn’t matter if we were in public or private, he was game.

Alone we’d act like shy high school students about to take our relationship to the next level, but we did not have any pressure. We would sit close to one another on the sofa and watch television documentaries. Never did we come into one another’s presence and exhibit the hunger and desire we clearly had. Our time was borrowed/stolen and then as the expiration closed in on us we became passionate.

“Yes Jesus loves.. me…” I was brought abruptly back. I was sitting in the pew next to  Marc, the church was full, yet it seemed I was alone in an auditorium. How was this possible? I was seeing things as though a camera lens had been intentionally distorted and they were fuzzy. Then a saw him; a tall slender dark figure walking toward me. He managed to come and sit right next to me squeezing between myself and Sister Jordan. Sister Jordan was oblivious to this. I looked at him but could not make out the features of his face, but there was a strong scent that accompanied him. It was sulfur-like. A chill came over me. He spoke,” Well Donna how are you enjoying your gift?” He is wonderful to you isn’t he? Everything you always wanted… But then he is married. What to do, what to do? No wait you have already decided.” I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak.  I was gasping for air. “Here let me show you something”, he said as he grabbed my face and he waved his hand in front of me. The pulpit was transformed into a screen where I saw Frank and myself in bed. I looked around, guilt was all over my face, but no one saw it except the dark stranger. The dark stranger loudly laughed. He moved close to me and whispered, ” What are you doing here? Do you think your being here will save you?”  I was frozen. “But then you don’t want to be saved, you want Frank and you will take him any way you can get him, won’t you? Of course you will”, he said. I was about to protest I was shaking my head “no”, when I realized there was no one there. No one except Marc and he was looking at me curiously.

The 13 errors: not pursuing my dream, dating the wrong guys repeatedly(4 to be exact), having sex with them anyway, marrying Marc, not finishing my education, settling for a job I hated because it paid well, not having children( Marc and I were not happy so there were 2 abortions), having a sexual affair with Perry, and then there was Frank. Yep 13 errors and it took me to#15 before I figured it out. What was worse,15 was ongoing.

Driving home I went over these errors one by one. I kept seeing the dark stranger and going over the encounter, wondering was it real or did I imagine the entire event.  I asked why I tried to convince myself that the dark individual was a stranger. I knew him, and I knew exactly what he represented. I once again was only fooling or trying to fool myself.

Then as luck would have it, or perhaps it was a conscious decision; I stopped and really reviewed Perry. Perry, with his wonderful deep voice and his smooth yet endearing manner. I thought about how we met and when he called me at work all the girls swooned because of that same voice, but when they saw him they couldn’t understand why I wasn’t  just weak. They just did not know. Perry and I had been down many roads together and I since he was my first I wanted to be special to him. They just didn’t know that each time I heard his voice or saw his face I was a heartbeat away from collapsing at his feet. Every move I made every word I spoke to him was planned out and orchestrated. When I thought I had the upper hand he’d throw me a curve ball… It crossed my mind that he and Frank shared the same birthday but two years apart. Back to my Perry saga because Perry was the catalyst for many of the other mistakes. He broke my heart in every way possible and now after all these years, we were now friends.

What did all of this mean? Marc pulled into the parking structure of our building. He had been silent the whole trip to and from church. Finally he said, ” I need to think and so do you. We will talk when I get back this evening.” Then he raised his finger to point but never looking at me, then shook his head no. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. I simply got out of the car and Marc sped away. I felt numb. I climbed into the elevator and pushed 6.  I was stressed and confused.

The car stopped on the 5th floor but no one got in. I saw a familiar looking man with two small children a girl and a boy, they were walking away from the elevator. The girl turned around and looked back at me, she looked like she could have been related to me. Then the man turned around and it was Marc. How was that possible he just drove away. The doors closed. I feverishly tried to open the doors again but there was nothing I could do. 6 lit up and I ran down the hall heels and all to the stairs. When I got to the 5th floor no one was in the hall.  Winded I decided I would climb the stair back to my floor anyway.

I was met at the door with that burning sulfur smell and there he was sitting on my sofa. He was clad in red this time. He turned around and smiled. “Well you made it. Took a little detour did you? I thought you’d like to see those three and especially the little ones”. I was thinking but simultaneously he was saying, “This must be a dream… No Donna it is not a dream, by the standards this would be considered a nightmare or at the very least a bad dream it is 1:13 p.m. hardly night.” I stood there unable to move.  “Oh and the brimstone I do for effect I have another scent I truly prefer but that really would scare the .. well lets just say you would have trouble concentrating on what I was saying.” He rubbed the palms of his hands together,” So let’s cut to the chase, you know why I am here. Let me say you have accumulated quite a bit of baggage already. I mean you are NO angel, are you? So here’s the deal. “

Enough Said

When you have been hurt or disappointed in life by an individual, often time all you see or can concentrate on is you. As an after thought and in an effort to NOT wallow in self pity try this.  Take on the role of the one you are upset with and use the “pro-con”method to see what you end up with. Then think about where you go from here.

You are angry with me, but you won’t say a word. I am choosing to accept what I see. I say you seem upset you say you are not, there may be a bit of sarcasm but I am taking you at your word. I don’t know you any more, truth is I probably never did. Are you being honest with me now, have you ever been, moreover have I been honest with myself. Now I want answers. Pride  will not allow me to assume full responsibility for even the things I know I have done. I want to move on and move forward, that does not mean anything beyond what I just said, nothing is implied there are no undertones. This is face value time and if you accept this then it means you must be accepting it with no conditions; like you have in the past and in the way I have always been able to convince myself that you have been okay with. End dialogue.

No one knows you better than you know yourself and as scary or lonely as it may seem, it is better to be true to yourself than to end up with a load of regret(s). Battle with selfishness here; consider the others who may be involved and could be affected as well. Where you go from here is ultimately your choice, the ball is in your court. However, the truth is, it has always been.

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.

Fancy Girl

Sitting in the weekly rental apartment, I wondered if I had made the correct choice. However, the thought was quickly dismissed. I had given Chuck every opportunity to make our marriage work I refused to look back with regret. After all looking back had kept me with him as long as I had stayed in the first place. The decision that I needed to make now was whether or not to leave the state.

It had been six weeks since the divorce was final and I could not say I was feeling bad. Chuck either glared at me during the proceedings or looked at his hands. He didn’t have anything to give me but his dreams. I wanted no part of them anymore. I was tired of giving everything of myself, doing things his way, and never having anything for me. I felt like I lived in a soap opera or a bad romantic comedy. How could I know that in the course on 9 months I would be as happy as I could ever imagine, my financial state would be secured for a very long time, and I would lose the romantic love of my life forever.

When Chuck and I met, I was completely single. There was no man of significance in my life. Chuck was handsome and a smooth talker. He looked like and gave the impression he had it all and he could give it to me. I would later find out all he was consisted of “pipe dreams” and lies. What should have been a friends with benefits relationship took a wrong turn and ended up in the land of matrimony, eventually to both of our dismay. We had the twins the very next year. Then Chuck really started to perform.

He stayed out until all hours of the morning, spent ridiculous amounts of money, and did a fair amount of cocaine. I stopped caring about him very rapidly. The kids were toddlers when we started going for counseling. Chuck kicked the cocaine habit, but he was never faithful. He used to sing a song “Don’t Fence Me In” when he came in late and I would protest. I was finished, I was ready to walk out the door, but I put my children’s needs ahead of mine.They adored their father. I kept putting off the inevitable; first when they were in school, then when they were finished with high school. Upon their college graduation, I finally figured it was my turn. 30 years and 4 months from the day I married him, I walked out of our house never to return. It was frightening, but it was long overdue.

I picked up my cell phone and called my cousin, Phil. We had grown up together and he was divorced now as well, or should I say again. Phil was a pretty successful  sports writer and did a bit of traveling.  He knew what was going on with me and Chuck; I  finally decided I would take him up on his offer and relocate to Florida. I would stay with him temporarily until I figured out what I would do permanently.

Since cooking was my love, and baking was my passion, a career in the food industry was a natural choice. I had taken a couple of cake decorating classes before Chuck and I split up. Well why not put it to use, until I figure out what to do as I waited on my retirement. I got a job at the local big chain supermarket, Publix. It was ideal I could walk to work from Phil’s apartment. The beach was walking distance from the store where I would spend many hours, after work and lunch breaks as well. Life was amazingly simple for me now. I didn’t have to see Chuck nor worry about running into him. I missed the kids, but they had lives of their own. Their visits would be cherished and fun.

I was decorating a small chocolate ganache cake early, when I looked up there was this tall( about 6’3″) handsome man of clearly Italian decent smiling. His skin was olive, his teeth were white and straight, he had a full head of salt and pepper hair. He said, “Beautiful, I must have.., oh and I would like the cake too.”  I flashed a quick fake smile, but I was flattered.  I asked, ” Would you like this one? He nodded  in affirmation and said, “Yes. Please.” “Can I get you anything else, sir?” as I began packaging his cake. He leaned forward and said, “I am sorry if I was forward. I didn’t see a ring and there aren’t many of us, you know, our age who are clearly single. I love your hair. You don’t color it. You’re bold.” I replied, ” So are you.” He rubbed his hair,” Well I have a little more salt than you do, but seriously it , your hair is gorgeous.” I handed him the cake. He smiled and in a lower tone he said,         ” And so are you.” He smiled, winked, and walked away. I didn’t see Rick,the store manager when he came behind the counter and I was slightly startled, when he began talking to me. Kent was quite impressed with you.  I said, ” Who?” “The gentlemen who just bought the cake. He is a regular customer, he told me you were a wonderful, talented, and charming individual.” I laughed, ” Really, hum Rick if I wasn’t old as black pepper I’d swear he was flirting and you were aiding and abetting….” Rick slipped me a business card and walked away.

KENT IMPERATO Professional  Golf Course Design. What it did not say was he was on the PGA tour and had quite an impressive record. However, if you followed golf you would know that. I was too wrapped up in me to follow anything right then. I knew he looked familiar or was it just that he was so tall and so handsome. Probably a little of the first plus a lot of the second and third.  It was a flirt and it felt good.

Phil was on his way out when I was on my way in. He told me he would be back by the weekend. He was always rushing about. I sat my bag down and laid the card on the counter with my keys. Phil glanced at it and looked at me with a question mark on his face.. “Kent Imperato.. the pro?” I replied, ” I dunno, I guess”. Phil said, “Really.. I know he is in the area, but.. when.. where did you see him.” Oh he came in the store and bought a ganache… Phil interrupted,” and he gave you his card… what is this cuz?” I squinted at him, “Phillip don’t you have a plane to catch?” Yeah I do but you won’t get off that easy”, he said as he walked out the door.

Two days later  I got another visit from Kent at the store. He came up to the counter and smiled, “That was one fabulous cake.” Oh well I am so glad you enjoyed it”, I replied. “What can I get for you today?” “Did you get my business card”, he said quietly. I said,” Yes I did, but I am not a golf enthusiast, I am sure you are quite good but..” He interrupted again, “But you don’t have a phone, you couldn’t call, you don’t like golfers?” “You aren’t a bit shy are you, I said. “Have lunch with me, please?” I was filling the display case. “Listen, I am flattered, but..  He said, “No really listen, I won’t take no for an answer so just say yes and I will be back to pick you up at… I relented, “1:15″My lunch was actually at 1:30, but the time mislead was to see if he was serious and punctual. The large clock in the front of the store read 1:14 and I watched my lunch date walked over to the display case. ” Ready”, he asked. I raise my index finger indicating one minute and I disappeared to the back of the bakery. When I emerged, Rick and Kent were talking. Rick said, “Man if you keep hangin around this bakery you’re gonna get fat.” He smiled at me and walked away.  Kent smiled and said, ” So where would you like to go?” I replied,” Well, seeing as I am all dressed up I figure we should go someplace really nice.” He smiled again.  “I have just the place in mind”, he said.

I did not know what to expect on any level. I hadn’t been on a date in more than three decades. He was driving a Buick Rendezvous, it was black. I did not give his vehicle another thought, except it drove nice and smooth. We were headed up the coast, the waters from the ocean were aqua blue and rather calm. We parked and Kent walked around to my door to open it for me. I got out and looked around. There were people on the beach, a lifeguard tower, but no place to eat was visible. This was fine with me, because I was in my work attire and my time was limited, a walk on the beach would be nice. I saw a blue and white cabana .

“I can image what you look like when you aren’t working,” he said. What do you like to do, what kind of music do you listen to, do you dance?” My reply was, “Which question do you want answered?” Wait I have one for you, no two. Where are we going and what are you doing here with me?” We reached the cabana there was a young man there we had a picnic table and there was food. Kent said, For an afternoon at the beach I like junk food, but I told Lyle to bring some fresh fruits and cheese, healthy stuff  just in case. Tami this is Lyle. Lyle nodded and smiled. “Hello Lyle”, I said.  “Afternoon on the beach.. Kent I have a job that I have to be back at in about 30 minutes”. He pulled out his cell phone and pushed a button and looked at me. I looked at him as he began speaking .” Yes may I speak to Rick Henson, store manager… Rick hey man this is Kent, yeah remember the favor I asked you about ? Well if you would kindly relay that information to this lovely lady with me I would greatly appreciate it.” I took the phone with a suspicious look on my face. ” Hello, who is this speaking?” I asked. “So tell me the store number and how about my hire date. Well you can’t blame me for being cautious. I see.  Again, you can’t blame me for being cautious. Regular schedule tomorrow? Ha, yeah right. I’m sure. Do you need to speak with him. Very well, see you tomorrow. Bye.” I pushed the end screen and handed the phone back to Kent. “Alright, we have more than 30 minutes for lunch, let’s take it one step at a time.” Kent simply smiled.

Kent was actually my age just shy of my birthday, by one day. He had made quite a roar in the world of golf and he had clearly always liked blondes. I did do some research. I knew the last thing I was looking for was some cocky pro golfer, spending his free time polishing up his trophies, all of his “trophies”.  He had obviously done well financially, investments a few endorsements here and there as well as a very successful ad campaign for a fledgling sportswear company, his own. I was out with a relatively wealthy man. I was out of my league and I knew it, but I was enjoying the spoils for the moment. Hey, a nice lunch, the afternoon off, no harm/no foul.

We walked on the beach, to exercise lunch away. Since my attire was white pants and a coral polo shirt I was over dressed but not too noticeably, without my name tag and bare feet, you could assume I picked the outfit. Kent was wearing his company’s signature polo shirt, sandals, and khaki shorts. Before I knew it the afternoon gave way to the evening. As we drove back to my apartment, dozens of questions ran through my mind. It made me very quiet as David Sanborn played “Try A Little Tenderness” in the background.

I had enjoyed the afternoon and the company of this man, but there are no manual to instruct a 50+ year old woman how to act or what to expect on a first date. I was way out of practice. The sun was setting on the horizon, I asked myself “Are you going to let it set on you?” Kent took hold of my hand and we exchanged looks. We pulled up in front of Phil’s building and Kent parked. He walked around and opened my door. He took my hand and helped me out. Here it is the moment, “do I want to kiss him, I think I do, but only if he wants to kiss me, no that’s not right…” He kissed my right cheek and said, “I had a really nice time we MUST do this again”. Without giving myself time to think I kissed him on the lips, smiled and said, “We must”.

Getting older the games of romantic involvement must have subsided. Kent called on his way home to again tell me what a good afternoon it had been. He warned me that he planned on taking up a considerable amount of my time. I  told him we should do like they do in A.A., take it one day at a time. Our next date was for dinner. I told him I wanted to go somewhere that I could put on a dress. I wanted to feel elegant. I had plenty of gowns, just never a occasion to wear them. We went to a country club on one of the golf courses he had designed. Elegant I wanted, elegant I got.

Kent was now making his way to the senior tour, but at present remained on the regular ranks of the PGA. We  first appeared in public at Pebble Beach for a charity event in support of S.M.A. “Fans” for golfers are a little different than other sports groupies, the main difference being they are quieter. Everyone on the inside knew what was going on and they all knew what Kent liked in a woman, in turn the women knew as well. I was not it. The guys were nice in an obliging way, the women were as women are, “catty”. I was not in the “club” and I didn’t want to be. As the resident alien, I would bring my friend(s) with me to watch Kent play. It had all the scandal of a high school nobody hooks the most popular school jock. The magazines would take pictures of me generally with a bottle of water and my BYOF(bring your own friend). I rarely ate at the clubs. Kent and I  would have a really big breakfast before he played, we would work out 30 minutes later for and hour and a half, afterwards he and I were good for the day. It became our ritual.

KENTAMI’S(pronounce ken tah meez) opened amid quiet ceremony. As the cliche’ of the times; a specialty cupcake bakery whose name was the merging/fusion of the couple-owners first names.  It could have been worse, my parents could have opted to spell Tami the traditional way with a double “m” and a “y” . It flowed. I joked with Kent, ” They must have known about you long before I did.”  The day was busy, a number of the wives of the tour pro’s stopped in and made purchases. Lots of pictures, Kent signed some golf balls and gloves. Later that night when it was quiet and dark in our quaint little bakery, we sat in the window on two of the tall bar stools, drinking sparkling apple cider. I was tired, but it was a good tired.

Kent placed a little package in front of me that was wrapped to look like a mini-cupcake box from the store. I didn’t want to open it, things were really good between us. I was “shell shocked” from  “The Chuck Years”. This was a man, had I met earlier in life, I would have had children with, but now that was a “pipe dream”. “Aren’t you going to open it”, he asked in an almost whisper. I looked into his beautiful dark eyes, I examined his face, his deeply tanned skin, the thick salt and pepper hair. “Kent aren’t we happy, I mean things are good. You are a vibrant man, you should have babies I can’t do that for you. Let’s just enjoy what we have… He interrupted me and said, ” What do you think is in there, a ring?  He laughed, ” Oh baby no, I don’t want to get married…” He took the box from in front of me. Now I was a bit embarrassed, a bit annoyed as I watched him fumble with the box, then I looked away trying to compose myself. I have to admit I was a little pissed, but looking at life stages, I realized the days of dreaming about youthful romance were long behind me. I caught a glimpse of him in my peripheral vision and the window reflected his image behind me. He swung my seat around and dropped to one knee, ” I don’t want to get married to anyone but you. So just say yes cause I won’t take no for an answer”. I was breathless from his words. He kissed my hand and put the ring on my finger. He continued,” And this, this is not a ring but a reminder that we have a commitment to one another that is for life.” The ring was what I considered too much 5 carats;  3 1/2 carat baguette cut stones on each side of the anchor stone which was  a 2 carat princess. “What do you say”, he asked smiling, he already knew.

When his plane crashed I knew I would never be the same. Kent was so vibrant so full of life being in a wheelchair for the rest of his life would not work for him.He was angry and bitter. Most of the time he did not want to see me so I would go and sit in the waiting room for hours. I went home with him for appearances sake from the hospital. I left the house at 3 a.m. I would never see him alive again. I wear a pendant that is made from the platinum and diamond engagement ring, he had made for me.  It has his name engraved in it, and his soul is engraved in my heart.

Speak To Me

If you cannot listen to and learn from your companion, then why do you have them. Frustration is like an active volcano. It is ready to erupt at any time. Sputtering and spurting from time to time serves only as a forewarning. This “baby” is gonna blow.

There is no way to convey how very important communication between you and your loved one is. There actually is no need; for if you are in a good relationship you are practicing this and if you are in a not so good one you realize that you are not communicating and this is a major problem.

Writers generally like to communicate and feel very comfortable doing this on most levels or at least one for certain. When you are emotionally involved with another person there are a number of ways that communication takes place, but these ways which are expressed in forms other than talking sometimes take translation. No matter how well you know another person, it does not hurt to say “Talk to me, tell me what it is you are feeling”. Then they are given the chance to express themselves on no uncertain terms.

Women talk to much, men talk to little, neither listens to the other because each has preconceived notions about the other’s comprehension and we have trouble understanding why communicating is difficult?

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.

So A Man Thinketh

My father who I loved dearly, who was a tremendous man, used to tell me this very thing when I was down on myself. I rarely listened, I don’t even think I was able to grasp what he was in fact saying to me on the slightest level. I thought he was being kind and obligatory. I did not see what he saw.

I don’t want to make my blog all about me, but I cannot completely avoid interjecting me in some places. I realize that the thoughts, ideas, and experiences of life are shared ones. Sometimes we all need the same type of reminders. Sometimes we need someone to pull us back and anchor us into place.

God is that which we need. He is all that we need, but He goes a step further, He provides us with others to help us in ways that we do not even realize. We look up and there is a solution, we look up and there is a comforter, we look up and there is a provider. The key here is, that we look up.

Dove did an experiment on a group of women, it was a venture into self discovery. This experiment was all about how we see ourselves in comparison to how others see us. When these women were asked to describe themselves they first talked about what they didn’t have or what wasn’t so good. Then these same women were described by other people who had just met them but asked to spend time with them and get to know them. The results were astonishing, yet I could not help but wonder what would have happened if Dove had gotten people who actually knew and cared about the women. God sees us as we can be, as He knows we can be.  Therefore what He is seeing is what we are.He doesn’t look at us for our imperfections for they are many. When He sees us He see beauty, tenderness , compassion, kindness. He sees love. He sees this through a father’s eyes. So A Man Thinketh….

My father who I loved dearly, who was a tremendous man, used to tell his beloved daughter this very thing when she was down on herself. Though she heard, she rarely listened. I don’t even think she was able to grasp what he was, in fact, saying to her on the slightest level. She thought he was being kind and obligatory. She didn’t know or understand what a beautiful gift she had been given, when our Heavenly Father gave her to him. She did not know what a beautiful gift her father saw, that his Heavenly Father had given to him.

Don’t be so hard on yourself, believe in yourself, strive to be what God sees. If you don’t make it, know He loves you anyway. In His eyes you are perfect.

Summary Of A Love Gone Wrong

Oh God why am I cursed with this man. He is a plague in my life. I wrench at the sound of his voice. He has selective amnesia. He does not care for me and I am okay with that now. Now all I want is to be at peace. I fear there will be no peace in my life as long as he is in my life. He cares only for himself. Why won’t you let him be happy. Why can’t he can be with the one he loves, HIMSELF. I have been a good wife to him, I have been far better than he deserves. I have been wronged in this relationship and the contagion of wrong doing has thus infected me. Please Lord, make this situation right. Please

What does he think when he looks at me. What does he think when I  show him  little affection? Does it make him feel small and hurt, like it used to do me? I hope he does feel bad at times, I wish for him to have that same disconnect that he gave to me. Then other times, most times, all I want is to be able to walk away and know I did the best I could for as long as I could, and all that was/is required of me has been satisfied.

Looking back I have a boat-load of regrets. I thought he cared, I thought he could make me happy, I thought we would be good together. I was so wrong. We had a fun time and I should have left it at that. There were so many times  I should have stopped, but I did not.

Lord please help me get back to me. Let me enjoy my children and grandchildren. Let him enjoy his life, but not with me. I know better than ever I am NOT what he wants or what can make him happy nor is he those things for me. Everyone deserves some happy.

I no longer want the love from him that I “pined away” for at one time. I want to be me again. He sees glimpses of me and he clearly dislikes that person. Too bad he didn’t see her long before now, too bad I did not let some of my desires come forth and be seen. I could have saved us both a whole lot of grief. There I go again taking on the full responsibility for a situation that was clearly involving the two of us.

He says, “You want out?” I lie and say,” No”.

The Way I See It

GreatExpectations; This is not a typo this is the way I think this feeling I am wanting to express should be conveyed singular and large. After waking up a 4 A.M inflection and self-discovery was on my mind.

I am a morning person, but there is something terribly wrong about getting up when it is still dark. I have gone through periods where my sleep pattern seemed to be altering itself. I also do need some alone time, I believe writers need this time for clear uninterrupted thoughts. Good luck with this if you have a cat.

I spent some time surfing the internet and listening to music. I saw a couple of things I felt were speaking to me directly. It felt like , when you go to church and the message the minister is conveying  is JUST about you or directed at you.

I wanted to dance, but I have no rhythm.  Was is unreasonable to  expect you to teach me or even know I wanted to learn? I am overweight, the diets have failed. Why haven’t you encouraged me to get fit? I want to make love. When are you going to touch me? GreatExpectations.

Is there no end to the arrogance of man? Note,”man” NOT A MAN.  I ask because of the thought “he who has done great things”, does not necessarily make him great and the perception should not be as such. Perhaps answering some basic questions can answer questions for you, yourself. One must learn to take ones accomplishments in stride. You must realize that you are only a portion of any one thing you do achieve or fail to achieve. I am not undermining or understating that which you have accomplished which is good, but there have been some pitfalls alongside the win-falls. Therefore the defeats must be given the same consideration.Thus taking things in stride.

Varying degrees and levels, varying strengths and weaknesses, yet we expect things to turn out our way, the right way as we see it. If you experience something difficult and you survive it, then you see someone else with the same challenge in their life, but they are not having the success you did, what thought comes to you first? Success or failure you have to take the outside forces into account. None of us has or is a “cure all”. Remember this next time you prepare to “dive into a situation and become aware that you have no oxygen tank”.

Brother, Brother, Brother…..

Sounds familiar doesn’t it? Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On“, you’re right. If you don’t have one you cannot begin to understand, or can you.

This is a story of brothers from three different angle. The theme song would be He Aint Heavy…. as well as the depiction by Gilbert Young of the man on a wall reaching down to aid a sole arm of another to help him up.

I haven’t spoken to one of mine in years. Periodically it bothers me. I think we all hate being wrong. I don’t have a real problem with that. Mine lies in my perception of wrongdoing and the perpetrator’s unwillingness/inability to come clean.  Things change. This is a bigger deal for me here. I think it does fall into the category of forgiveness. I felt rather smug when I initiated this challenge some 13 years ago. Now, not so much. I grew up with this guy. We had some good times and shared our mother, father, and siblings.  I hear his health is not that great and then I think what if he passes. None of us is promised tomorrow. I wonder can I live with myself and I tell myself, yes. That is a sad commentary to my character. Grade thus far, FAIL.

My best friend is in search of hers. His existence eats at her in a minimalist fashion, yet it is always there. There may even be more than one ( possible twins). She cannot be sure and the one source that could confirm this and help is unwilling. So she searches on her own. We who have siblings and know who they are where they are cannot begin to imagine what she is going through. Hey I am her “bestie” and I have admitted as much to her. I think as time goes on and we feel ourselves growing older there are “feelers” sent out, because we are still trying to connect with ourselves and we feel the time is drawing closer to the end. Maybe we just want to know for reasons that absolutely cannot be explained, but we feel it just the same.  Grade thus far, INCOMPLETE

My sons are so close the younger believes and acts in a fashion that demonstrates his brother knows it all. There is a love and like for one another that I hope and believe will always be there. They play and wrestle like they did as children. We look at them as their parents and ask, ” Do they realize they are no longer 5 and 9 years of age?” Yet one marvels in this same thought. One brother offers to help his friend in need and there is no one to help him provide this assistance, no one except his brother, who stops his fun and relaxing day to go help a virtual stranger move. Why, because that is his brother’s request and he is there because he knows it is the same in regards to him if the “shoe is on the other foot”.  I can feel comfortable that theirs was/is a success that my husband and I conveyed to the two of them. In spite of the fact we each have a very different relationship with our respective brothers.  Grade thus far, EXCELLENT

Three vastly different stories, still ongoing still having possible plot changes. Our relationships will always be challenging, because they are guided and affected by the individuals involved. Happy endings, sad endings, or questionable endings. By and large you may know one of these stories, you may live one of these stories.

I offer this be kind to one another; for the truth is we are all we have and in the grand scheme of things, in the end, in theory, aren’t we all related? Aren’t they all our brothers?

Post Navigation