We are all guilty of uttering trite remarks and sayings that sound great, but hold little or no value. When you tell someone, "It was great to see you, we need to get together more often," you both know it will be eons before you ever lays eyes on each other again. It's just common decency to tell a friend or relative experiencing rough times, "Call me if you need anything." "Let me know if I can help." Even though it sounds good, and you think it's comforting to show your support, those words are about as useless as tits on a boar hog if you don't sincerely mean them.
I've been made keenly aware of who I can and can't depend on amongst my circle of friends and family since my husband died almost 18 moths ago. I'm not saying that in a mean, or malicious way, I'm just saying, I know who truly means it, and who is just making noise with syllables. I realize each and every situation is different and merits distinctive handling. I totally understand when someone has previous engagements, or obligations of far greater priority and importance, and any effort is very appreciated on my part. But, after really thinking and deeply reflecting on several events and interactions over the span of this past year, I think I'm going to just have to step up and call some of the worst offenders of saying what you don't mean out, and see what happens.
Alright now, ya'll can't say ya'll weren't fore warned, and if even the idea of what I'm about to say makes you uncomfortable, you are going to be one of the first ones, I bust in the ass with my experiment. See, from now on when you tell me to call you if I need anything, or promise to be there when I'm in trouble or need a favor, I'm going to make sure I need you and I will call you. If you tell me you are going to do something for me, I'm going to bird dog you till it's done.
But wait it gets even better.See, from now on, when you give me an excuse, or reason why you can't help me, or fulfill your promise, I'm going to write it down, and remind you of it every time you say what you don't mean. Every time I hear you say "Holler if you need me," or " Let me know if I can do anything," I'm going to say out loud in front of God and anybody, "That's a load of crap, he/she doesn't mean a word of it. I called him/her three times when I was in a bind and they didn't do diddly damn to help me." That's right, I'm going to either break some dogs from sucking eggs, or I'm going to have a lot fewer friends. But, in the long run, the friends I will have left will be the ones I KNOW I can call when I really do need some help.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Spider Lillies
Today as I was driving around my home town, I noticed a straggly little patch of spider lillies growing under a tree in someone's front yard, and I was immediately transported back to my childhood, vivd memories of waiting for the school bus on cool autumn mornings, with a fistful of fresh picked spider lillies wrapped in a damp paper towel as a gift for my third grade teacher. I can smell the crisp, clear morning air, and feel the cool dampness in my hand. I can clearly picture mama standing in the front door, watching to make sure I safely boarded the bus. Sometimes I'm just awe struck by how even the simplest, most mundane sights, sounds, and smells, can trigger some obscure, or long forgotten memory, from the deepest confines of the subconscious.
Now that I've decided to sell my house, I'm dealing with the issue of decluttering 37 years worth of family life in this house. Cleaning out sheds, closets, and the attic has produced an abundance of memory triggers, more than I'm truly able to process at one time. Books, bicycles, and boxes of Barbie accoutrement, stirs up flash backs to hours spent playing Barbies and fighting over who's doll got to wear what with a cousin, or the girl next door, racing down the street on my new three speed I got for Christmas, and curling up next to mama, as she read Grimm's Fairy Tales to us. All those memories, all the material things that bring them to mind, and give them life, are they truly connected? Can a tagible object actually contain one's memories? Can you have one without the other?
Looking back at the last 45 years of my life, and as I begin the process of closing that chapter of my life, I can honestly, and clearly answer those questions. Beyond all shadows of doubt, I realize now that material items, things, possesions, do not bear the burden of our memories, nor store them for us until we want them to pop out, like a jack in the box. So many friends and family members have asked me why I've given away so many things that were once prized possessions, how can I so easily part with my memories? Some of those things may very well be worth something, and have great monetary value. If they do, then I wish the new owner nothing but good will, and perhaps when they are enjoying whatever it is I gave them, or the rewards gained from selling it, they will remember me, and I too will be a fond memory.
No matter the value, or monetary worth a piece of furniture, china, or old junk might hold, just like the spider lillies that pop up each September, they too can be plucked up, and later discarded when their beauty fades, and the charm wears off. True enough there are some things that I can never part with, Moe's wedding band, my mother's engagement ring that Moe had re-designed for me, and his Ibanez guitar. I'll keep those things with me until I leave this earth, but even though I'll treasure them always, I can't take them with me when I die, and the memories they evoke are as much a part of me in the here and now, as breathing in and out. The rest of the stuff in this house... it's all just a spider lillies,
Now that I've decided to sell my house, I'm dealing with the issue of decluttering 37 years worth of family life in this house. Cleaning out sheds, closets, and the attic has produced an abundance of memory triggers, more than I'm truly able to process at one time. Books, bicycles, and boxes of Barbie accoutrement, stirs up flash backs to hours spent playing Barbies and fighting over who's doll got to wear what with a cousin, or the girl next door, racing down the street on my new three speed I got for Christmas, and curling up next to mama, as she read Grimm's Fairy Tales to us. All those memories, all the material things that bring them to mind, and give them life, are they truly connected? Can a tagible object actually contain one's memories? Can you have one without the other?
Looking back at the last 45 years of my life, and as I begin the process of closing that chapter of my life, I can honestly, and clearly answer those questions. Beyond all shadows of doubt, I realize now that material items, things, possesions, do not bear the burden of our memories, nor store them for us until we want them to pop out, like a jack in the box. So many friends and family members have asked me why I've given away so many things that were once prized possessions, how can I so easily part with my memories? Some of those things may very well be worth something, and have great monetary value. If they do, then I wish the new owner nothing but good will, and perhaps when they are enjoying whatever it is I gave them, or the rewards gained from selling it, they will remember me, and I too will be a fond memory.
No matter the value, or monetary worth a piece of furniture, china, or old junk might hold, just like the spider lillies that pop up each September, they too can be plucked up, and later discarded when their beauty fades, and the charm wears off. True enough there are some things that I can never part with, Moe's wedding band, my mother's engagement ring that Moe had re-designed for me, and his Ibanez guitar. I'll keep those things with me until I leave this earth, but even though I'll treasure them always, I can't take them with me when I die, and the memories they evoke are as much a part of me in the here and now, as breathing in and out. The rest of the stuff in this house... it's all just a spider lillies,
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Priorities
I just love it when friends, family, and people in general feel the need to tell you everything you SHOULD do, and everything you OUGHT, or NEED to do, yet never show up, or offer support when you get ready to DO whatever the hell it it they advised you to do. That being said, I'm discovering that people don't like change. They don't like change in their lives, or in anyone else's, especially close friends, and family, and while I can appreciate that, I'm also taken aback at often uncalled for reactions to your decisions that may not suit their needs with no cosideration for what's best for you.
I've recently made the decision to sell my house. The home I've lived in off and on for 37 years. The house I grew up in. The house I shared with my beloved husband, the house that thousands of happy memories are built around, and the house that shares the deepest sorrows of my 45 years. It was not an easy decision, as it creates the need to find my sweet, loyal old Lab, Waylon a new, loving home, and the stress of sorting through 37 years of accumulated crap. I've already told the real estate agent that the big shed in the very back goes with the property as is, along with Lord knows what kind of junk is in it, possibly including Sasquatch and his brethren. But, in spite of the not so good aspects of selling my home, I"m lookig forward to a new start, in a smaller, more manageable place, with less worry and up keep.
What has suddenly caused me to make this major life altering decision, you ask? Well, in all honesty, I've been thinking about it since Moe died 17 months ago, but I didn't want to make any decisions based on emotions, so I waited until enough time passed to make a more rational, and practical decision. Once again, I'll be quite honest, and tell you the main reason I'm selling it because I'm tired. I'm tired of the worry and stress of upkeep, and I don't have the financial resources to make major repairs if they are ever needed. At certain stages in life we have to re-evaluate our priorities, and look at life from a different perspective. So far, I've been blessed and lucky that nothing has broken, or required repairs that cost more than a few hundred bucks, and even that is a stretch for me. I've been truly blessed with genuine friends, and family who never hesitated to step up when I needed a new washer, or help with monetary issues beyond my paltry State pay check. Thus, a real, and major reason I'm putting a for sale sign out front.... if it ain't broke don't fix it, and I'm making the fact that nothing is broken a top priority.
So far, I've really gotten alot of support from those I hold dear, and whose opinions, and insights I actually merit some value. Those are the folks who know me, love me, and have certainly been true to me, especially during this past grief filled year. Some of us have grieved together, others have just been beside me ready to be there when I needed them. They are truly why I've made living here a priority, and even though I'll likely end up 30 minutes away in Baton Rouge, my folks here in Zachary will always be "home" to me.
I've recently made the decision to sell my house. The home I've lived in off and on for 37 years. The house I grew up in. The house I shared with my beloved husband, the house that thousands of happy memories are built around, and the house that shares the deepest sorrows of my 45 years. It was not an easy decision, as it creates the need to find my sweet, loyal old Lab, Waylon a new, loving home, and the stress of sorting through 37 years of accumulated crap. I've already told the real estate agent that the big shed in the very back goes with the property as is, along with Lord knows what kind of junk is in it, possibly including Sasquatch and his brethren. But, in spite of the not so good aspects of selling my home, I"m lookig forward to a new start, in a smaller, more manageable place, with less worry and up keep.
What has suddenly caused me to make this major life altering decision, you ask? Well, in all honesty, I've been thinking about it since Moe died 17 months ago, but I didn't want to make any decisions based on emotions, so I waited until enough time passed to make a more rational, and practical decision. Once again, I'll be quite honest, and tell you the main reason I'm selling it because I'm tired. I'm tired of the worry and stress of upkeep, and I don't have the financial resources to make major repairs if they are ever needed. At certain stages in life we have to re-evaluate our priorities, and look at life from a different perspective. So far, I've been blessed and lucky that nothing has broken, or required repairs that cost more than a few hundred bucks, and even that is a stretch for me. I've been truly blessed with genuine friends, and family who never hesitated to step up when I needed a new washer, or help with monetary issues beyond my paltry State pay check. Thus, a real, and major reason I'm putting a for sale sign out front.... if it ain't broke don't fix it, and I'm making the fact that nothing is broken a top priority.
So far, I've really gotten alot of support from those I hold dear, and whose opinions, and insights I actually merit some value. Those are the folks who know me, love me, and have certainly been true to me, especially during this past grief filled year. Some of us have grieved together, others have just been beside me ready to be there when I needed them. They are truly why I've made living here a priority, and even though I'll likely end up 30 minutes away in Baton Rouge, my folks here in Zachary will always be "home" to me.
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