One- I am YOUR BOSS
Two- ARE YOU SO ARROGANT that you thought that would work?!?!
Three- HOW DARE YOU tell me that I can either accept it willingly now OR accept it willingly accept it in the future.
Four- I need a vacation. Where is the camera?!? SURELY, I AM BEING PUNKED….
Last week I joined my siblings, my cousins, my aunts, my 2nd cousins, my niece, my nephews, and many others in saying goodbye to my grandmother’s earthly body.
It was the most painful process I have ever gone through.
The first major wave of grief hit as I walked into and right back out of her house. I dropped in the driveway and became the embodiment of the ugly cry. My chest seared with pain (I guess from sharp intakes of air and wracking sobs). Tears, saliva and snot mixed everywhere, I am not sure where it began or ended.
Side note: my sisters used to joke that I had no feelings at all, this is the most they have ever seen me cry. Honestly, it is probably the most I have ever cried in my entire life.
I was there so long that I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. I spent the next two hours on the back porch just trying to get it together.
The next day the next wave hit. At the funeral. The viewing. There is a portion of us that can convince ourselves that something isn’t real if we can’t see it. Yet, there she was……
I thought I was good. I was pretty sure I had no tears left.
My Grandma would tease me about my name. That I was Grace, but that I was also amazing. That they were synonymous with each other.
The first song in the service………….yeah.
Amazing Grace.
Kleenex doesn’t get enough credit for their product. I used the same kleenex a LOT that day. It was damp but it kept taking it.
I thought that was it. I can’t cry anymore. I can barely see out of my face for God’s sake.
The burial. This funeral home did something different that I had never seen before. They had the family each come by and touch the coffin, as stamps on a passport, to send the loved one on their way.
I have never been so broken in my life. My Grandma, my hero. My defender. My encourager. My teacher. My comforter. My cheerleader. She is gone.
She believed that I could do anything. She believed that I deserved to be loved without reservations. She believed that I had worth.
My grandmother was buried the 1 year anniversary of my Papaw’s death. Both of whom where the cornerstones of my life.
My foundation has now been shattered by death. Time will wash away the ruins and that foundation will be forgotten like all of the foundations before.
I said goodbye…..
My Grandma taught me what unconditional love was.
She taught me what complete devotion to your spouse looks like.
She taught me how to sew.
She taught me how to take care of my imaginary friend.
She taught me how special letter writing was.
She taught me how important birthday cards and small tokens of appreciation are.
She taught me the importance of being yourself.
She taught me how to hold my head held high in the face of strife.
She taught me how to use the power of my name.
But in spite of all of those things, she didn’t teach me how to live without her. 💔
I have been a huge believer in the embodiment of passion in the realm of employment.
I believe that a person’s skills and talents lie in their passions. Passion is that ‘glue‘ or ‘missing link’ between job highs. No job is always fun and enjoyable.
More recently, I have watched someone that I know move positions and professions, to a profession that he has great passion and skill in. It has been fascinating to see the change in all aspects of his life.
I feel like people hesitate on going for jobs that they really want for the simple fact that it legitimately hurts more to miss out that opportunity than an average opportunity.
Fear of failing at something that you are passionate at is another reason that people hold back. It is really sad honestly.
If you are passionate about it, make the jump!
Regret is a lot more bitter to taste than failure.
They have free will. If you taught them right, they should know that their thoughts are their own.
I knew that walking away from a broken marriage would be hard to come out of, if at all.
My daughter thinks I didn’t fight to keep my marriage. That is probably the single most hurtful thing that she has ever said to me. “I hate you” would have been preferable.
She doesn’t know how many hours and days that I spent in therapy. Praying in the University chapel. Prayer lists. Praying at the hospital.
She won’t ever know what I sacrificed just to stay married……until the price was the lives of my daughters.
I can’t control the poison that she hears…or her thoughts. I can’t control the narrative. Maybe one day, she will understand.
I thought maybe time would heal my youngest with regard to the divorce. Not so much.
Not only have I not made any progress at all, it seems as though she has been influenced by her cousins just as I knew she would.
Her father continues to poison the waters, which isn’t surprising at all.
It just doesn’t get better.
Love isn’t a fair weather sport.
You have to relinquish control of your heart, fully knowing that the odds are extremely high that you are driving off a cliff.
Thats where I am right now. Figuratively speaking of course. I am on the cliff, Thelma and Louise style, knowing that there will be no way to repair my heart after this.
The risk of losing is so high….
Yet, I am going to step on the gas. Why? Why would I do something so stupid?
Because I don’t want to live with regrets.
I have shared the issues with my mother’s losing battle with schizophrenia before but last night’s episode reached a new level of WTF.
The day started with my mother showing up at my apt and my old work and then asking me if I had moved. I blew it off as her having an episode.
Told her that I would be home at 5pm. Kind of got concerned when my dad texted me at 2 pm saying that she told him that she was with me. Again, not the first time she has done that.
I drive up to my apartment at 5pm. And a brand new 2020 Ford pickup, fully loaded, with dealer tags is sitting in my driveway…..and my mother is in the passenger side……..no one in the driver seat….
“Mom…….what are you doing? Whose car is this and why are you in it??!?” I asked.
“It’s mine, I bought it today!” She said quite pleased with herself.
“Really………does dad know abt this?”
“Oh no, I bought it with the free money they were giving away at the church.” She says.
I open the door to my apt and call my dad. Worst conversation I have had to have with him yet. “Hey dad, mom bought a truck.”
My mother proceeds to tell me that she needs me to drive her back to the dealership to get my dads car. So I do. She gives me the keys to the truck and pulls out of the dealership. I start to follow trying to wrap my head around all of the information that was just shoved my way. I just had a bad feeling. I made a u-turn and drove back to the dealership and set out to find the salesman. My dad had arrived. Thank God.
We set out to find ‘Alex’ the poor guy that my mom bought this thing from and plied him with questions. How did she pay for this truck? Whose name is it in? WTF is going on?
Turns out, she gave wire instructions to a made up bank account that the “sharp shooter gave her when he came to the house this morning since your Dad won’t poison the rats that are out to get me”
This bank account does not exist.
While the finance department was trying to find out why the wire wouldn’t go through, my mother managed to take the key and ‘step outside’. She drove the truck to my house. The dealership didn’t realize that she had left.
While piecing all of this together, salesman were running everywhere…….
Poor Alex……..he was relieved that the truck showed back up and he could walk away from this whole situation.
The dealership was only too happy to wash their hands of the whole situation.
Its time to have the conversation with my dad of what he wants to do. This has crossed the line to being a danger to him, to the public, and to herself.
I just want a normal fucking weekend, why is that too much to ask?!?!?!?!
Beauty is laughter with a good friend.
Beauty is a discussion about hard truths with someone who wants the best for you.
Beauty is found in the true intimacy and trust found in friendship.
It is rare for two souls to meet in with no walls up.
It is rare for two people to stop in a busy time in their lives and just be.
When that happens to you, hold onto it.
You have just been fully recognized by another soul. No acting. No bullshit.
Your flaws have been seen in that moment, but they accounted for nothing. You were taken as you are……a recognition of safety. Respect. Honor.
Sometimes, being seen and accepted for who you are and nothing else, is the sincerest compliment.
Its ok to admit that you feel something for someone. But it is even better for that admission to be respected and validated.
Even though it isn’t required.
Everyone wants to be desired.
Everyone wants to be seen and accepted at a soul level.
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