This blog is a collection of stories on the ordinary days of today and a documentary of the days of the past. Thank-you for reading and allowing me to share. Enjoy your ordinary days and hopefully the bits and pieces of mine will resonate with the moments in your lives that bring you happiness.
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January 24, 2014: Life is Beautiful
This blog has been sitting in my mind for some time. During my
most thoughtful times (i.e. walking the dog and long bike rides), I have
pondered this specific blog title and its intertwining relationships into my
own personal life.
This week I was reminded of this theme once again. Amid some mild
oppression from a myriad of outside forces, I did what I typically do in these
situations. I thought of the words of a dear friend. Life is beautiful.
No better way to avoid the bad things in life than to focus on all
things good. Wallowing in negativity is not my gig. So tonight I will transfer
my recurring thoughts from mind to blog.
Preparing for my blog post, I scoured my computer picture files
with the goal of finding a recent picture of my boys. In my mind's eye, I
pictured them smiling; enjoying life. There were many
to choose from; football games, family trips, rough-housing in the backyard.
Instead I kept coming back to the picture above. A forgotten picture of me.
I am unsure who took this or the details of the moment. But what
caught my eye was my disheveled physical appearance complimented by an apparent look of
happiness. My self-hemmed dress was unintentionally hiked. My hair, a mess. And
my makeup? Vanished with the close of the day. But the smile is apparent. Happiness.
I tend to see the beauty in life and in people and am told I carry the dominant trait of positivity. Strengthfinder's personality assessment
validates this by placing Positivity in my "Top Five".
Sometimes I take a step back, acknowledging my tendency to see the
cup as only half full while wondering if this perceived strength is really a
weakness. Do I sugar-coat too much? Not seeing things for what they are? My mom
has coined me a "Polly Anna". Self-doubt ensues.
Post-divorce, I wondered if my positivity was, in fact, our
personal demise. Nonacceptance of the negative spiral taking place was instead sugar-coated from reality. But life was raw and I was lost in the bubble of
confusion. I just wanted to fix things and for everyone to be happy.
Shortly after our divorce, Grant’s cat went missing. He adored his
pet kitten, Rambo. They slept together each night and played together by day.
Alarmed by Rambo’s MIA status, Grant and I spent a day hanging up signs throughout
the neighborhood with pictures of Rambo and enticements of a reward if found.
Neighbors were interviewed and the Humane Society called. No Rambo.
The first night that Grant went to bed alone in Rambo’s absence, he cried his
eyes out; worried about his furry companion. The next day, while
Grant was at school, I received a call. The caller saw our signs in the
neighborhood and also saw the deceased remnants of Rambo sprawled on the
neighboring 168th Street.
When Grant arrived home from school, he anxiously asked if I had
heard anything on Rambo. I told him “no”.
After Day Three of no Rambo, I
convinced Grant that his kitty had wandered into the home of a sweet old lady
and was spending his days lying on her lap by the fire. I
convinced Grant that in all actuality we were doing a favor to a lonely elderly lady. Rambo was fine.
Proud of my positivity spin, I shared this story with Garrett. But
I didn’t get the response I had expected.
“Sandy, you can’t lie to Grant. He needs to know the truth. You shouldn't shield him from adversity. This is life. People and animals will die.
Not everything has a happy ending.”
Not the reinforcement I was looking for. I reasoned with Garrett
that Grant couldn’t take the truth. With the divorce and loss of his parents as
a unit, Grant didn’t need any more sadness in his life. He couldn’t take it. I really thought
I was doing the right thing with the old lady story.
Garrett didn’t enable me. I eventually told Grant the truth. It
took everything in me, but it was the right thing to do. He cried, but accepted the reality of his pet’s death. I think prior to my words of truth, Grant actually knew in his
heart that no old lady really existed. And then we woke up the next morning and we moved on.
In the heat of my divorce, I was given the Godwink of an amazing
counselor. One day I was updating him on the status of my boys; emphasizing all things positive and my efforts at keeping their lives normal and
happy. This was an ongoing theme in our sessions despite the problems erupting
between their dad and me.
After my lively and positive update, my counselor paused and asked a
“Have you ever watched the movie, Life is Beautiful?”
I hadn't a clue what he was referring to.
“Watch it this weekend,” he told me. Homework.
Confused, I did just that. I rented the movie and was surprised to find
it an Oscar-winning foreign film. The entire movie was in subtitles.
At the end I cried. I understood why my counselor wanted me to
watch it and I understood how it applied to me, but I did know how to interpret
whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.
The movie is about a father and son who are imprisoned in a Nazi
concentration camp. The father shielded his son from the horrors of their life by filling their days with
positivity and convincing his young son that they are having an adventure.
The small boy believed his stories and followed his upbeat lead. The boy survived unscathed. A gift from his father.
When I asked my counselor at my next session why he wanted me to
watch the movie, he turned it back to me. The conclusion I made that day and
the conclusion I make now, fast-forward five years, is that positivity and
creating a happy world albeit dark times is a good thing. But like poor Rambo, we need to accept reality while choosing happiness.
All that being said, I am thankful for a counselor pointing out
that life is indeed beautiful. I continue to defer to his great advice in my daily life. And as far as positivity being an overall good or bad trait, I will just keep deferring to the photos showing the faces of
those I love. This is my best barometer.
A picture is worth a thousand words. But let's start with six...
"And they lived happily ever after..."
I bought this little sign more than seven years ago. It caught my eye at Target while shopping for milk and kitty litter on a weekday school night. The boys were in varying grades in school and I was single-handedly running my daily household.
Recently divorced, I was also dating a man from Denver. Garrett. Our relationship felt like forever, but the 550 miles between our homes was a stark reminder that our long-distance relationship was more like a fairytale than reality. We were reminded of this frequently by the people who knew us best.
"Guard your heart. Long distance relationships rarely work out."
"You are both good people, so be realistic in where this is going."
But the funny thing about love is that no matter how practical-minded or mature your mindset, your heart guides you to places that are scary to others, but quite comfortable for you…
So Baby has graduated. Yes, it is true. The last Lane boy birdie to leave the nest. And the weekend has been nothing short of a whirlwind of events, from baccalaureate to party to commencement. All in about a 24 hour span.
After we closed the final night of festivities with a celebratory beer and wings with our extended clan, I finally laid in our comfy bed ready for some well needed rest. Carefully reflecting on our weekend of chaos in our soft quiet, Garrett asked how I felt. He knew how much I was looking forward to this milestone for Grant and for me.
"What was your favorite part of the weekend?" he asked.
Without hesitation, I knew my answer.
"Definitely the setting up for the party with Scott, Kat, and the boys. That was definitely the best."
Garrett probed further, as I am sure he thought the beer and exhaustion had an undue influence on me.
"Really? How so?"
As we lay in the dark, I went on to relive the 2 hours of chaos in our home before our 15…
I vividly remember being asked as a child to describe what I hoped to have accomplished by age fifty. This thought was inconceivable to my young mind.
"Fifty? That's ancient!" or something close to that was my roadblock to answering this question. So I answered with the stereotypical; married with children and grandchildren, living in a comfy home and....knitting by the fire??
But here I am almost to this milestone. The big one. So what are my thoughts now with my more mature forty-nine-year-old mind?
"I made it!!!!! YES!"
Yep, I'm thrilled. I can truly say that I have never dreaded a birthday or wished to be young again. Every wrinkle is earned and with every new ache, a reminder to enjoy the good health I have today. Reversal is not an option.
A wise person once told me that getting older was much better than the alternative. I have always held this thought close to heart. Every day really is a blessing.
This birthday will be celebrated taking in the bea…