Category Archives: relationships
Sometimes you just need a hug
2 CommentsEmotion is a very worthy adversary. It can lay dormant and sneak up on you when you least expect it. On Monday I fell victim to its stealthy attack and was on the verge of an ugly cry in my office in the middle of the day. At that moment, all I wanted was a hug.
Being affected by a wave of feelings is nothing new to me. I get overwhelmed by, not only my sorrows but, the melancholy felt by those around me. Like a kettle that is too full of water, that emotion has nowhere else to go and eventually it spills out.
In those moments, I feel like a child holding my arms in the air, waiting for someone to come and pick me up and tell me it’s going to be okay. I know the surge of sadness will pass, but sometimes you just need a hug to make everything feel better. The comfort of an embrace is what we are born knowing and trusting.
We had a senior’s bus tour at the lodge this past fall and I met one of the sweetest ladies during that tour. She was all of 4 feet high and spoke with a wee Scottish brogue. Every morning she would come into the office and ask if I wanted a hug. I never turned her down. And she did the same thing with the 38 other people on the tour, always careful to ask the wives’ permission to be able to hug their husbands.
She gets it. She knows there is nothing more heart-warming than a genuine embrace that will make the sorrow seem less sad, that will make life seem more manageable and that will make reality more acceptable. A hug can speak more than words, can drain sadness from your soul and can let people know how you feel about them without having to say a word.
While life may try to challenge your reality, one simple hug can bring you right back to where you need to be. Hugging is the most beautiful form of communication and it allows someone to know that you truly care.
It lies just below the surface
5 CommentsThe pain of losing a parent is overwhelming. It has been over eleven years since my dad passed and over three years since my mom passed. Most days, even though I still find myself reaching for the phone to call them, I can manage the loss. But every so often, there is a glaring reminder to make me deal with that sense of loss all over again. It may be a completely banal event but the flood of feelings cannot be stopped.
Last night, it was a television commercial for the Heart and Stroke Foundation with Canadian figure skater Joannie Rochette. Joannie lost her mom only 2 days before she competed in the Winter Olympics in Vancouver in 2010 and every time I see the reminder of her story I am reduced to tears. I know that loss all too well. I feel the pain her heart feels. But what I can’t imagine is having to perform at the highest level of competition a mere two days after losing her best friend.
The pain of loss never really goes away. It lies just below the surface, ready to surprise us at any moment. It can come back gradually or it can hit us all at once. Regardless of how it arrives, I am now able to remind myself that the pain is so hard to take because it represents the huge amount of love we had in our family. It doesn’t stop the tears from flowing, but now I can smile a little through those tears.
Hope is the most important thing
2 CommentsI was speaking to a guest of the lodge yesterday who is currently embroiled in a nasty divorce. He skimmed over a few of the distressing low-lights of his battle and said something during our conversation that really struck me. Responding to one of my remarks he said, “Hope is a dangerous thing.”
I thought about his comment for most of the morning. I carried it with me throughout my day at work. It followed me while I was delivering meals to the Food Bank and even while I was walking my dog after work. How disheartened he must feel thinking that to hope that there are good things waiting for him in his future is a treacherous slope to climb. How unfortunate that he is so skeptical of the one thing that he should embrace – hope.
Hope is not a dangerous thing. Hope is the most important thing. It is the thing that provides the light at the end of that dark tunnel. It is the thing that gives us the aspiration to dream of something better. And it is the thing that makes what we see through the windshield so much more important than what we see through the rear-view mirror.
Hope is anticipation. Hope is longing. And hope is having enough faith in our choices to think that leaving the stressful things behind allows us to carve a better path for our future.
I know that he will never see this blog post but, Richard, my wish for you is that you are eventually able to see the goodness in hope. It will support you in ways your relationship never did and it will give you the chance to have the true happiness you deserve.
If I say I’m fine….I’m lying
5 CommentsMany memes and many jokes (mostly at men’s expense) have skirted around the fact that if a woman says, “I’m fine”, there is an emotional undertone that means something far beyond being fine. My experience with the phrase ‘I’m fine’ has completely surpassed that, to the point that nobody in my immediate family uses those two words to describe their current state of being.
Both of my parents were alcoholics and suffered through a myriad number of complications through their later years. It is an ugly disease with ugly consequences. The worst part of watching the effects of alcoholism deteriorate a human body is having that person tell you that, while they are suffering numerous symptoms and contrary to every doctor’s diagnosis, they are fine. Fine is no longer a word I use to describe how I feel and for very good reason – it’s bullshit.
I sent a text to a friend yesterday to ask about their well-being and was given the response “I’m okay”. Although it was not the tried and hated response of “I’m fine”, it ranked right up there and it made my Spidey senses tingle. I knew there was more going on but I also knew not to push.
When you get a text message from someone you know on a very personal level, the inflection in their voice is heard loud and clear above the silence of a text message. The only thing I can do is be here when they need to vent, to be present when they realize that I know they are not “fine” or “okay” and just be ready to listen.
I will love you until….
3 CommentsAfter watching a few back-to-back episodes of Hoarders yesterday morning (yes, you may roll your eyes now), my Sunday chore list became exponentially longer. What started as a routine house cleaning day turned into a fridge and freezer purge, the breakdown of every cardboard box within my reach, two dump runs and a full afternoon in the kitchen making healthy lunches and soup for the week.
As I spent that time in my kitchen, my iPod playlist shuffled through every type of music you can imagine but the more I listened, the more the songs reminded me of my mom. I have been thinking about my mom a lot lately. She had a huge heart and she would continually think of little things to do for people just to see them smile. She would spend the weeks leading up to Christmas baking until she could bake no more. Her house always had the essence of fresh-baked cookies and squares and the Christmas tins would be piled high on her dining room table.
Her favorite day was not Christmas day but the day that she would drive, or later be driven, to all of the places where she would deliver her goodies. The local Hardware store, the post office and the local veterinarians would excitedly open the tins to see their favorite type of cookie and their reaction was the only present she ever truly wanted. My mom was the type of person who would learn those little things about you and she would make sure that those little things made their way from her home into your heart.
I was reminded of this wonderful quality when, during my furious Hoarder-inspired clean, I was rearranging some things in my kitchen. There in the midst of my jar of utensils was a lone yellow rose. I had long forgotten the bouquet of flowers my mother had given me so many years ago. She had stealthily used my key to leave the flowers on the island in my kitchen and attached to the fragrant arrangement was a simple card that read, “I will love you until the last flower dies”. I thought it was an odd message but after really looking the arrangement, I saw the flower in the middle of the bunch. It was a lovely yellow rose, but it was artificial. It would never die.
That was my mom. And those little nuances that made her who she was are the things I miss the most. Some days I’m fine, a phrase we are no longer allowed to use in my family, and some days, like yesterday, the emotion snuck up on me and I could not control the flow of tears.
But it is not just the rose that reminds me that she will always be with me. My mom is somehow still able to pull strings and make wonderful things happen in our lives that we never expected. And it is these things, the things that only my mom would know, that make the gestures so special and so meaningful.
To say I miss her is a gross understatement and I hope she knows that I will love her until that last flower dies.
Perspective
3 Comments“We don’t see things as they are. We see things as we are.” ~ Anais Nin
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Perspective is an interesting concept. In an artistic sense, perspective can give a two-dimensional object the look of being three-dimensional. It gives it depth and it tricks our brain into thinking we are seeing more than the simple lines on that piece of paper or canvas. In effect, we are seeing a different reality.
When it comes to the human condition, perspective takes on a whole new role. Our individual perspective is swayed by our thoughts and beliefs and sometimes those thoughts and beliefs can cloud our judgement. In a very different way, we are seeing a different reality.
It makes me think, if something seems to good to be true, should you ask yourself, “am I seeing it the way it is….or am I seeing it the way I want to see it?”
I just called…..to say…….I love you
5 CommentsI was sent a message by a friend who, like me, has been struggling to find a reason for all the recent losses that our small town has endured. In a community like ours, you either know everyone or you know them by six degrees of separation, so when someone passes away the ripple effect of that loss reaches everyone.
It is times like these that I am overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support shown to the families of those who have passed. And it is times like these that remind me to hold my loved ones that much closer.
My dad was a very emotional man who never shied away from saying ‘I love you’. He was very demonstrative about his feelings and nobody was ever left guessing about his affection for them. My mother didn’t start out that way, but she eventually found comfort in sharing her feelings as well. It wasn’t until after my parents had passed that my brother and I drew much of our strength from sharing that same three-word phrase with each other.
It saddens me that some people feel uncomfortable saying ‘I love you’. Even though they have the feelings, they are unable to comfortably share those sentiments when, ultimately, that is how they feel.
I don’t want to regret anything in the brief time that I have in this lifetime. I don’t want people to not know how I feel about them. Everyone one of you, whether we are family, friends or we have met through this blog, has had a tremendous impact on my life and I love all of you. Each of you has taken time to comment on or like the thing that I am most proud of, my writing, and I am grateful for that and each and every day. You all hold a very special place in my heart.
So, if I say I love you and it takes you off guard, just know that I am not trying to make you uncomfortable nor am I expecting you to tell me how you feel. I just want to know that I took the opportunity to tell you before it was too late.
Grief cannot be fixed, it can only be carried
Leave a commentI have suffered my share of grief through the loss of many people I held dear. There was no reason for those losses to occur in the way they did and dealing with those wounds has not made me a stronger person, contrary to popular opinion.
It is tough to find words to say to people after they have suffered the loss of a loved one. There are no magic phrases to make it all better. There is no invisible salve to heal the wounds. There is only comfort in a hug. There is the ability to hold them when they can’t stop crying. And there are the moments to share the wonderful memories of the person who has passed.
Loss never becomes easier with time as much as people try to tell you it does. The only thing that time changes is our ability to live our lives in a new way and deal with the absence of that person on a daily basis. It is true that some days are better than others. But it is also true that you can be so overwhelmed by the pain of loss that you cannot leave your house because your tears are uncontrollable.
There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Emotion will control you, not the other way around. The only thing you can do is carry that pain with you and wear it like a badge of honor. That pain reminds you of the connection you had to the person who has passed. That grief is the glue that binds you to the soul who has left this lifetime. And those tears are the reality that make you painfully aware that grief cannot be fixed. It can only be carried.
Old souls
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Whether I have been spending more time on the internet than I realized or the whispers in my ear have been making me more aware, I have recently been seeing a lot of posts and memes about old souls. The above meme struck a chord much deeper in me than some of the others I have seen. It rang true to me as soon as I read it and I knew it would soon be the subject of a blog post.
I have always believed myself to be an old soul but I never really took the time to figure out why I felt that way. Doing a little more research into old souls gave me much more insight into explaining the feeling that I have lived a life beyond the one in which I find myself now.
Old souls are empathetic and that character trait is probably one of the ones I am most proud of. I never related the ability to feel other’s pain so deeply as a sign of being an old soul, but it makes sense. I have the wonderful gift of being able to put myself in that person’s shoes, to truly understand what it is that they are going through. Intuitive may be a word you can use for the feeling but it seems to go far beyond that.
I can give advice that seems to come from a knowledge far beyond that of which I have studied in this lifetime but I am confident that my advice is sage and I trust it completely.
At the very beginning of my journey on this blog in 2012, I wrote a post titled, Soul Mates and the Red String of Fate. (you can click on the link to read the post). I wrote it because the idea of souls being deeply connected really resonated with me. The friends I hold close to me, the ones I am very drawn to in a way I find hard to explain, I consider my soul mates. That bond doesn’t have to be about a marriage but it does have to be about an understanding and a connection on a deep emotional level.
Old souls are drawn to each other. They understand each other without question and they just want the other soul to be happy. There is wisdom in age but that age does not have to be defined by a calendar. It just has to be understood.
polysyllabic profundities 