The following was written by the late Erma Bombeck after she found out she had a fatal disease. I'm sure you've all read this before, but I think it bears repeating...
If I had my life to live over, I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's".. More "I'm sorrys" ...
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it ... live it...and never give it back.
I haven't posted here in a bit. I've been busy with other things. But this keeps plaguing me so I'm going to get it out of my system before it drives me totally to distraction.
I've been lost for quite a long time. Not like my friend who adopted that nic *winks*. But I've lost myself. I've lost my confidence. I've lost my imagination. I've lost my desire.
I have so many things that need my attention, but by the time I have the opportunity, I find myself lost. Unable to focus. Feeling like I can't accomplish the simplest of tasks.
I've re-read some of my posts here and I understand mentally the reasons why. I see how I got here. I just don't know my way back.
I've been stabbed in the back by people who claimed to be best of friends. Friends who left for good reason. I left a job feeling thoroughly disgusted by the treatment I'd received the previous year. And yes, they claimed friendship as well. My husband has totally lost my respect, and yes, love because of how he "does" family. He has been working these past couple of months to win that back even though he doesn't understand the depth that I've gone. I've also lost a business and we almost lost our home. Some family members have made it abundantly clear that I don't measure up. Others have gone out of their way to be sure I know that not only are we family, we're friends as well.
Some friends have stayed. Some have even grown closer. Some have come back.
But the thing that has been hurting me the most is the loss of my friendship with my mother. She doesn't know this. She probably believes that things are just fine. But she made a choice which firmly let me know where she stands. I can't blame her for it. I'm not sure what I would've done in her shoes. But she chose, and it's really shaken my world. Pile on everything else that's happened and it's no wonder I'm in this predicament.
So, right now, I'm lost. I'm rudderless. The voices have grown silent. They're still there, but not like the past 5 years. They've returned to the shadows. (If you're curious about this, send me a message)
Ok, then, this is me at the moment. Feeling my way blindly along the walls until I find the corridor back to who I was. Writing didn't help exactly. I'm not going to even announce I've written. But at least now, it's out. Maybe now I can deal.
My friend, Jackie, has gone and done it. She has some marvelous work repurposing items. Have a look!
Jacqueline's Joy: Well, I've gone and done it!!: "Well my friends, I've taken the leap and started a blog. My friend Mary has been urging me to for some time now and I just didn't think I h..."
I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting. I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.
I was surfing YouTube and came across this. I had no idea the impact it would have on me. I've just re-watched it again and as before, I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face.
I don't know if you know this about me, but I sing. I sing well enough at least. I know all of Handel's Messiah in 3 of the parts. I can't manage to sing bass in the proper range but that's all to the good *smiles*. My mom used to play the whole of The Messiah on either piano or organ. That organ you see about 12 seconds into the above video wouldn't have been above my mom's ability when she was in her prime. She played a similar one at Notre Dame for one of my cousin's wedding. She played it beautifully too. She adapted the wedding processional from The Sound of Music working into the traditional "Here Comes The Bride". It was absolutely grand!
Note from the "Hallelujah" vid at the beginning, something I hadn't noticed until this last. The Christmas tree in the store is exactly the Christmas tree my mom always strove for. She went mostly with blue lights, but that's the effect she wanted. But I digress...
The reason I'm sharing all of this is to tell you how wonderful my mom is, what a gifted musician she is/was, and how much I miss that. We were able to get her piano down to my sister's house where mom and dad are staying now. She has that again at least. She gets so upset that she's no longer able to play as well as she once used to. The stroke she had several years back robbed her of some of the coordination it takes. But she still plays well.
She wasn't able to teach me how to play piano. My communication style left her very frustrated with me... well, it did/does with most people. I know the reason why for that now. But, mom tried her best to help me as I diligently taught myself. If I hit the wrong key, she'd call out from wherever she was in the house (usually the kitchen) with the correct one I should be playing. I'd find it and try again. If I still had difficulty, she'd come over and show me by example reaching over my shoulder.
She's the first person to ever "get" me. I know I drove my family nuts because of the problems I had/still have. I saw/still see things at a different angle from the masses. Always have and probably always will. And try as I might, at that age, I couldn't see things from the angle that everyone else were seemingly able to.
Once, when my mom was directing the church choir, she'd asked me to help her with the syncopation of a new song she was teaching the them. I took her at her word and when she wasn't getting it quite right, I tried to teach her like she taught me the piano. I didn't realize that it would embarrass her in front of the choir. I just knew she wanted me to help and I was trying my best.
She yelled at me in front of them. Yelled. Mom didn't yell often and I simply got up and walked out of the sanctuary. I sat on the hallway floor across from the pastor's study and waited for choir to be done. After she'd gotten everything put away, she came out and stood over me. We started to argue and then I said those words that most teens say at one time or other, "You just don't understand me," and I started to cry. That heart-wrenching, tears pouring, cry from your soul type of cry.
Something about that struck a chord with her. She told me to come with her to the car and she started driving out of the parking lot... a straight across the street to the parsonage. She met the pastor at the door, talked for a bit with him, then signaled for me to come inside with her. Pastor listened to both of us. Then he did something that entirely shocked me.
He told my mom that she was wrong, that he'd seen how our family interacts and knew that no one took the time to really "hear" me. She started crying, I started crying, we started crying in each other's arms. That's the night mom learned to understand... when she really started listening... and I found a voice. And... we started becoming friends. She became more than mom, she became "K-wohl" (that's "Carol" with your tongue between your lower lip and lower teeth).
Now that mom and dad aren't here in my home any longer, it's really struck me how much things have changed. While they were here I was so busy learning a new job, keeping the kids as quiet as possible, trying to see to my parent's needs, trying to make things pleasant for them, and just too busy. I'm still too busy, but this week has been a week of reminiscing.
Never again are we all going to sing together as a family around my mom playing the piano. Never again will I have the opportunity to hear her play her rendition of "Shower's of Blessing" or her arrangement of "Every Moment of Every Day" with the "Theme from The Pink Panther" as the intro (boy, did she get looks from the congregation the morning she debuted that *LOL*) or hear her yell to me from the kitchen the correct key from the one I struck in error
I miss my momma... I'm 51 years old, and I miss my K-Wohl...
A guy calls a company and orders their 5-day/10 pound weight loss program. The next day, there's a knock on the door and there stands before him a voluptuous, athletic,19-year-old babe dressed in nothing but a pair of Nike running shoes and a sign around her neck.
She introduces herself as a representative of the weight loss company. The sign reads, 'If you can catch me, you can have me.' Without a second thought, he takes off after her.
A few miles later huffing and puffing, he finally gives up. The same girl shows up for the next four days and the same thing happens. On the fifth day, he weighs himself and is delighted to find he has lost 10 lbs as promised.
He calls the company and orders their 5-day/20 pound program. The next day there's a knock at the door and there stands the most stunning, beautiful, sexy woman he has ever seen in his life. She is wearing nothing but Reebok running shoes and a sign around her neck that reads, 'If you catch me you can have me'.
Well, he's out the door after her like a shot. This girl is in excellent shape and he does his best, but no such luck. So for the next four days, the same routine happens with him gradually getting in better and better shape. Much to his delight, on the fifth day when he weighs himself, he discovers that he has lost another 20 lbs as promised.
He decides to go for broke and calls the company to order the 7-day/50 pound program.
'Are you sure?' asks the representative on the phone. 'This is our most rigorous program!'
'Absolutely,' he replies, 'I haven't felt this good in years.'
The next day there's a knock at the door and when he opens it he finds a huge muscular guy standing there wearing nothing but pink running shoes and a sign around his neck that reads, 'If I can catch you, you're mine.'
