Thursday, December 4, 2014
adventures and life lessons of a super-woman: What I should talk about.
adventures and life lessons of a super-woman: What I should talk about.: I sit here with a heavy heart. I keep trying to keep my pain private or controlled to only a few friends who know and love me. Friends and f...
What I should talk about.
I sit here with a heavy heart. I keep trying to keep my pain private or controlled to only a few friends who know and love me. Friends and family keep asking if I'm handling it okay, and I keep saying I'm getting by.
I lost a friend this week, a friend that had been a sidekick for more than a decade. From the day we met, I was the ornery one. She was the one with the good head on her shoulders.
There are so many things that make her death hard to take and hard to handle.
Several months ago, this friend and I, we had a falling out. It's not important now what over. I had always planned to heal the rift between us. I always thought there would be time to. Now there isn't time to say "hey we were both assholes in that moment." There isn't time to tell her again that I love her, hug her or hear her laughter.
There isn't time to run away to Vegas for a weekend like we said we would. Even though, she swore if we ran away even for a weekend she was attaching a GPS to me because of my habit of wondering off to talk to people and people watch. (I asked her once how she was going to attach it if I decided to go streaking down the strip)
I keep rereading our last messages to each other a couple months ago, a message in which she told me she's proud of me and so happy for chasing my dreams and that it was okay that we were on different paths now. I always thought our paths would eventually converge again.
So as I sit here, I'm covered up with the afghan she crocheted me two years ago for Christmas, the year that I made all of my friends homemade ornaments with their names on them. (For friends and family reading this, I want that ornament).
I'm trying not to be incredibly angry, incredibly sad, incredibly heartbroken over a life gone way too soon. Over a light extinguished before her time.
After I write this blog, I have to write my yearly reflections. (Bare with me, it involves this) Several years ago I started doing this. When I started, this friend and I, the friend I'm grieving over, talked about what a good idea it was to be able to see how far you had come and what goals had been accomplished from year to year.
That conversation started her writing a journal. I wonder if anyone has found that journal yet.
I guess now I should talk about my job, about the story I wrote for National Adoption Month and how cool it was. I should talk about the same-sex couple that gave four kids a family by adopting them and is in the process of adopting a fifth.
I should talk about schedules and how the last couple of years has just been preparing me for the craziness that is now my job.
I should talk about jokingly telling the county EMA director I was sick of looking at his face one week, after seeing him five times in two days, particularly after he volunteered me to go up with them on the scaffolding at the courthouse once it's placed.
I should talk about open mic nights, covering museum events and trying not to feel incredibly stupid when I talk to the commissioners and have to ask ten billion questions to understand things sometimes.
I should talk about how sad I was when I found out that the 19 year old terminal boy who kissed my hand when I walked away, the one I wrote a story on last month succumbed to his illness. I should mention there are perks to this job, and some cool things, but some things still kick you in the feels.
http://www.dailychiefunion.com/featured/man-receives-diplomas-in-special-graduation-ceremony-at-angeline/
I should say here that some of the stories I cover become more than stories, they teach me life lessons and help me see the beauty in the world.
I should talk about going with friends to see Mockingjay and having one of my best friends, tell me she's thinking about moving away. (Don't think I'm not gonna stalk you woman).
I should talk about my crazy uncle (yeah the one that was sick this summer) rearranging my bedroom at his house to give me a bigger bed, a pillow mattress and memory foam pillows and jokingly telling my brother I'm not going to be surprised the day I walk into that room and my uncle has a full wardrobe for me.
I should talk about the special Thanksgiving dinner with my niece, me and a friend of ours that didn't have anyplace to go for Thanksgiving. I should talk about them teaching me to play Kings and other drinking games because I never lived my twenties.
I should talk about my youngest son turning 17 next week and how I wonder what I am going to do after my kids all graduate.
I should talk about how I never realized how sensitive my children are to me, until my middle son hugged me and told me he loves me after I found out about my friend.
I should talk about the date I have this weekend and how I'm glad he doesn't think I'm crazy this week even though I keep telling him I feel like a bi-polar person on a runaway train. (yeah certain crazy friend if you're reading this I know I'm always like that).
I should talk about how I've made a friend at the office, thank god, someone I can talk to and don't have to be a professional adult when I'm talking to her. Finally, someone to have lunch with.
I should talk about freezing trying to take pictures of Christmas tree farms and the event I'll be covering tomorrow night.
I should talk about watching OSU kick Michigan's butt last week with my brother and how cool it is that me and my brother finally talked about a lot of things. I should say how incredibly glad I am we've gotten so close, and how the thank you card him and my sister-in-law wrote from their wedding made me tear up a bit.
I should talk about how fricking happy I am on casual Fridays when I can wear jeans and how I never thought I'd feel that way. Dude, dress pants every day suck more than I realized. (Also, they rub against the piercing my damn niece made me get). There is a certain dress code for some events that have to be covered.
I should talk about how crazy it feels that I've met something like 500 people in the last few months, and how horrible I feel when they remember my name and I'm trying to recall the exact event I covered that they were at.
I should talk about the amazing support system I have in my life. I wouldn't have made it through this week without collapsing, without breaking down, without just curling myself into a ball and giving up if it hadn't been for them.
I should talk about how I haven't worked out once this week and at an event I was covering tonight a fellow zumba goer stopped me and told me they've missed me this week.
I should talk about my nieces first birthday party and how dang cute she is and how she's already growing up too fast.
I should talk about words of wisdom from my grandpa and hearing him tell me "It's your life, you have to live it the way you want."
I've got a lot of things I should talk about for this post and I've got things I'm trying not to talk about.
I should talk about how I believe in Karma, angels and that the truth always comes out.
I know from experience that grief lessons over time. My own theory is not that the grief lessons, just that we become numb to it so that we can function from day to day
If I don't make it back here before the new year in less than 30 days, then let me tell you a superstition I've always had.
I've always believed the person you're with at midnight, is the person you'll spend the most time with that year. It's always rung true for me.Kiss someone you love at that moment.
I guess the life lesson this week, is say I'm sorry, forgive and just love each other.
I lost a friend this week, a friend that had been a sidekick for more than a decade. From the day we met, I was the ornery one. She was the one with the good head on her shoulders.
There are so many things that make her death hard to take and hard to handle.
Several months ago, this friend and I, we had a falling out. It's not important now what over. I had always planned to heal the rift between us. I always thought there would be time to. Now there isn't time to say "hey we were both assholes in that moment." There isn't time to tell her again that I love her, hug her or hear her laughter.
There isn't time to run away to Vegas for a weekend like we said we would. Even though, she swore if we ran away even for a weekend she was attaching a GPS to me because of my habit of wondering off to talk to people and people watch. (I asked her once how she was going to attach it if I decided to go streaking down the strip)
I keep rereading our last messages to each other a couple months ago, a message in which she told me she's proud of me and so happy for chasing my dreams and that it was okay that we were on different paths now. I always thought our paths would eventually converge again.
So as I sit here, I'm covered up with the afghan she crocheted me two years ago for Christmas, the year that I made all of my friends homemade ornaments with their names on them. (For friends and family reading this, I want that ornament).
I'm trying not to be incredibly angry, incredibly sad, incredibly heartbroken over a life gone way too soon. Over a light extinguished before her time.
After I write this blog, I have to write my yearly reflections. (Bare with me, it involves this) Several years ago I started doing this. When I started, this friend and I, the friend I'm grieving over, talked about what a good idea it was to be able to see how far you had come and what goals had been accomplished from year to year.
That conversation started her writing a journal. I wonder if anyone has found that journal yet.
I guess now I should talk about my job, about the story I wrote for National Adoption Month and how cool it was. I should talk about the same-sex couple that gave four kids a family by adopting them and is in the process of adopting a fifth.
I should talk about schedules and how the last couple of years has just been preparing me for the craziness that is now my job.
I should talk about jokingly telling the county EMA director I was sick of looking at his face one week, after seeing him five times in two days, particularly after he volunteered me to go up with them on the scaffolding at the courthouse once it's placed.
I should talk about open mic nights, covering museum events and trying not to feel incredibly stupid when I talk to the commissioners and have to ask ten billion questions to understand things sometimes.
I should talk about how sad I was when I found out that the 19 year old terminal boy who kissed my hand when I walked away, the one I wrote a story on last month succumbed to his illness. I should mention there are perks to this job, and some cool things, but some things still kick you in the feels.
http://www.dailychiefunion.com/featured/man-receives-diplomas-in-special-graduation-ceremony-at-angeline/
I should say here that some of the stories I cover become more than stories, they teach me life lessons and help me see the beauty in the world.
I should talk about going with friends to see Mockingjay and having one of my best friends, tell me she's thinking about moving away. (Don't think I'm not gonna stalk you woman).
I should talk about my crazy uncle (yeah the one that was sick this summer) rearranging my bedroom at his house to give me a bigger bed, a pillow mattress and memory foam pillows and jokingly telling my brother I'm not going to be surprised the day I walk into that room and my uncle has a full wardrobe for me.
I should talk about the special Thanksgiving dinner with my niece, me and a friend of ours that didn't have anyplace to go for Thanksgiving. I should talk about them teaching me to play Kings and other drinking games because I never lived my twenties.
I should talk about my youngest son turning 17 next week and how I wonder what I am going to do after my kids all graduate.
I should talk about how I never realized how sensitive my children are to me, until my middle son hugged me and told me he loves me after I found out about my friend.
I should talk about the date I have this weekend and how I'm glad he doesn't think I'm crazy this week even though I keep telling him I feel like a bi-polar person on a runaway train. (yeah certain crazy friend if you're reading this I know I'm always like that).
I should talk about how I've made a friend at the office, thank god, someone I can talk to and don't have to be a professional adult when I'm talking to her. Finally, someone to have lunch with.
I should talk about freezing trying to take pictures of Christmas tree farms and the event I'll be covering tomorrow night.
I should talk about watching OSU kick Michigan's butt last week with my brother and how cool it is that me and my brother finally talked about a lot of things. I should say how incredibly glad I am we've gotten so close, and how the thank you card him and my sister-in-law wrote from their wedding made me tear up a bit.
I should talk about how fricking happy I am on casual Fridays when I can wear jeans and how I never thought I'd feel that way. Dude, dress pants every day suck more than I realized. (Also, they rub against the piercing my damn niece made me get). There is a certain dress code for some events that have to be covered.
I should talk about how crazy it feels that I've met something like 500 people in the last few months, and how horrible I feel when they remember my name and I'm trying to recall the exact event I covered that they were at.
I should talk about the amazing support system I have in my life. I wouldn't have made it through this week without collapsing, without breaking down, without just curling myself into a ball and giving up if it hadn't been for them.
I should talk about how I haven't worked out once this week and at an event I was covering tonight a fellow zumba goer stopped me and told me they've missed me this week.
I should talk about my nieces first birthday party and how dang cute she is and how she's already growing up too fast.
I should talk about words of wisdom from my grandpa and hearing him tell me "It's your life, you have to live it the way you want."
I've got a lot of things I should talk about for this post and I've got things I'm trying not to talk about.
I should talk about how I believe in Karma, angels and that the truth always comes out.
I know from experience that grief lessons over time. My own theory is not that the grief lessons, just that we become numb to it so that we can function from day to day
If I don't make it back here before the new year in less than 30 days, then let me tell you a superstition I've always had.
I've always believed the person you're with at midnight, is the person you'll spend the most time with that year. It's always rung true for me.Kiss someone you love at that moment.
I guess the life lesson this week, is say I'm sorry, forgive and just love each other.
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| "The greatest gift of life is friendship and I have received it." Hubert H. Humphrey. |
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