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Archive for the ‘Life’ Category

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My grandpa

There is no one like a grandparent.

They give unconditional love no matter what.

My Papaw and I had a special bond from the very beginning. I was a curly haired red head and I had his heart. I was born the year that he turned 50. We shared decade beginning birthdays in decade beginning years.

It didn’t matter what he and my dad argued about or talked about, he always had a spot next to him where we would sit and watch the minutes pass on his rolex.

He stopped smoking when I was very young because I had asked him too. My parents impressed upon me, that he would die young if he didn’t. He made it to 88 years & 9 months. Thats pretty damn good.

I would make homemade fudge just for him, every time they came to visit. Standing in front of the stove for hours to make sure it would be just right.

He walked me down the aisle to get married when my own father wouldn’t even show up to my wedding.

My Papaw was my hero.

Its hard to describe what it is like to lose that person. Most daughter’s choose there father as that rock. I didn’t have that but I had my Papaw. I hate to cry but the pain in my heart is so much worse than what I dealt with in any other loss. I lost the person who was truly the proudest of me. The person who believed that I could do anything. I lost a piece of me….

When I divorced Papaw promised me that there was someone as good as (he) who would love me, like he loved my Grandma. I hope he is right. Even though they dealt with infidelity early on in their marriage, my Papaw never quit fighting for their marriage. Not once. Neither did my Grandma. “Marriage isn’t 50/50.” He told me. “It’s 100/100.” The first part of my marriage was 100/100, frankly the rest of it and the relationships following remained unequal. I never got to tell him that I understood. I never got to tell him how critical he had been in my life.

He taught me the die hard determination to ‘figure it out’ no matter what happened. That you only lose when you give up. He had a metal pail in his garage that was full of screws. He had taken apart a truck and put every single screw in that bucket. He said that he didn’t think at the time that he would need to know which screw went to which part, but he figured it out.

My Papaw was a baller before it was cool to be one. My Papaw was my hero.

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My grandfather has passed away…he is free to fly in the skies that he loved….

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The right words

It is always fascinating to me how the right person can say just the right words in just the right way to ground you.

I can have 100 people telling me something but it is the one person who may say the same general thing to me and for some reason it clicks.

Keep those people. Keep the people who can throw you a life preserver just by saying the right thing.

Maybe it is the fact that they care enough about you to remind you that you matter. Maybe it is their voice.

Whatever it is, those people are extremely special. Hold onto them.

When you are rolling the weight of the world like the Greek god Atlas, the one person who comes along and tells you that you are doing a good job; yeah, keep that person.

And while you’re at it, it might not kill you to be that person for someone else. We all are carrying a world of weight…

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Parenting a strong willed teenager is even harder.

I am reminded that the girls are more adult than not these days but OMG today we had quite the flashback to a two year old temper tantrum…..

It may have not gone down that dramatically but I chose to go to the office for the remainder of the day as a result.

Sometimes you have to be hated.

Sometimes your kid will hate you.

Sometimes you can’t do a single thing right.

Sometimes they tell you how much you have failed them and you know they are probably right.

Good times….

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I won’t quit.

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Holeeeeee HELL

Before I got divorced I had gotten in the best shape of my life and went to Barre3 religiously 3-4 times a week.

Then my world caved in and I medicated myself with food (of course). I talked to a friend not too long ago who was in the same boat and he started some mortal combat a couple times a week. He has told me at least ten times what it is called and I keep forgetting. I just know it isn’t ju jitsu but somewhere in there. Bohemian ju jitsu….. idk anyway THE POINT is I started thinking that I needed to do something. I am going to be 40 next year and I will be damned if I am rolling down the hill in this body.

So this evening was my first aerobic dance class. Omfg.

Like O-M-F-G, I looked like a disjointed panda bear……….. WHAT.A.DISASTER.

You know its bad when the instructor keeps giving you a shout out over the microphone “Oh girl, you picked the hardest class to start in on, but you are still moving girl, YOU DO YOU!!”

Kill me now. That is the equivalent of ‘Look away ladies, there is a total trainwreck happening in the back of the dance floor’ ‘Give her loooooooots of space’.

I may have gotten the footwork right during a .07 second span of time. That earned a ‘YES GIRL YES’ from the microphone barbie.

Meanwhile, I am not sure where my arms and hands were but I am positive they were not participating in the same class.

PS-water is a good thing to have with you (I was not prepared with any hydration).

I.DIED.

I don’t know where all the sweat came from and I certainly don’t know how I still had any makeup at the end of class- pretty sure I blacked out somewhere in the middle from a rogue arm, or leg.

I will not be getting up at a decent hour tomorrow. I will probably be in traction.

Jury is fully deadlocked on whether I return or whether I am a hazard to myself and other participants. I am leaning towards the later.

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