Life's Short Stories

I Am Rich

2009-07-13T06:26:00.000-07:00

Mother Teresa once said, "I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." In my life, I have found much truth in this statement! Recently I have been, let's call it 'overstimulated.' Between the process of moving (which I am beginning to think will be never-ending), starting my Masters program, helping coordinate a baby shower for my sister (luckily my other sister has become the shower Nazi and is only allowing me menial tasks), trying to be productive in my sales job while hunting for a career in my preferred field (youth targeted case management), struggling to get the bills paid and only succeeding with the 'have-tos,' two children, and basic, everyday life; I have been about to buckle under the pressure. I spent the past weekend battling a supernatural migraine while my body felt like I'd been beat by an angry mob wielding iron baseball bats. I mean, I realize I'm not as young as I used to be, but I seriously thought I was near the brink of a meltdown. So today I have pulled myself together enough to go back to work and attempt another week of my vicious, vicious cycle.
All this 'overstimulation' reminds me of a story I wrote about two years ago. This was written before I met my "Mr. Right." Other than that, it's basically the same life, different time....

I am rich. I do not use this word in the universally understood, monetary context. On the contrary, according to this definition I am barely two steps away from a cardboard box under a bridge somewhere. Rather, I am rich with love.
Today I had one of those melancholy days where the tears were ready and waiting, just under the surface, to break loose and devour a box of Kleenex. I was stressed out, worn out, and burned out. As I lay on my couch and weakly tried to prevent the impending meltdown, it occurred to me how many people truly love me. Now, I do not mean the friends and family that I can cut up and joke with when I see them occasionally but would have a hard time tolerating on a regular basis. I am referring to those people who I rarely go a day without talking to. The ones who have seen me when I am sick or just plain lazy, and know me well enough to tell me I look like hell. The ones who I can cry in front of and they do not offer uncomfortable words of condolences. Instead they grab a tissue and cry with me. Those are the people I am talking about. My life is complete because of them.
I have my sisters, my children, my mother, and many wonderful friends. Among those, I am blessed with two of the best friends God has ever granted to such an unworthy woman. One is a new friend with whom I have connected quickly and effortlessly. Although it may be relatively early in our friendship, I know that the relationship is going to be both profound and lifelong.
The other has been my friend for many, many years. She knows all there is to know about me. She has seen the best of me, as well as the worst, and miraculously she loves me anyway. There have been times throughout the years that I simply would not have kept my sanity without her. She is my rock, my advisor, my counselor, my friend.
As I continued to count by blessings, I began to see my life in a new light. Although I may never rub elbows with the rich and famous, I will never have my picture taken on the red carpet, and people will probably never know my name, I am a very lucky woman. I have what is truly important. My life is filled with people I love and who love me; and there is no greater gift than the gift of love. Hallelujah, Praise God, I am so very rich.

Love and Marriage

2009-07-09T04:13:00.000-07:00

I wouldn't really consider this a new post. It's really just a continuance of the one I posted yesterday. Yes, that's right sis, I'm still on the love kick. :)

A few weeks ago I was driving home from an out-of-town business meeting. My boss and another man from the office were with me. When you're cooped up in the small confines of a car with people you don't know well enough to have comfortable silence, you never know where the conversation will lead.
On this day we started discussing love and marriage. My boss and I had different views on several topics within this subject matter. For example, he questioned me about my relationship. He said if my boyfriend and I love each other so much, why do I not have a ring on my finger. Also, he is staunchly against divorce. Now, that is not to say that I am “pro” divorce, by any means. It is an ugly action that should not be taken lightly. However, having gone through one myself, I understand that as sad and painful as it is, sometimes it is the only option left. But I am not so closed minded as to dismiss anothers opinion simply because it differs from my own. So I listened. Admittedly, on certain things I could see where he was coming from, and in a perfect world his theory would be one to live by. But sadly, it is not a perfect world.
I was married for 14 years. In those years, there was no physical abuse, and he wasn't a drinker or a cheater. What we were was young. So very, very young. When you're a teenager, relationships are not based on compatibility with a kindred spirit. Rarely does someone so young connect with another on that kind of level. How could they? At that age most people have not realized their hopes and dreams. They have not matured enough to be the adult they will become. And, like all young people do, we grew up. The problem was, we grew in different directions. Even after I realized we wanted different things from life, I stayed. Like I said, he didn't drink, hit, or cheat. So I resolved myself to the fact that this was my life and I would try to make the best of it.
I tried to connect with my husband. I changed my dreams to match his, hoping this would bring us closer. For years I wore my resolve like a suit of armor and greeted the world with a smile. And I was good at it. No one recognized that my smile was just a facade. No one knew that deep down, in my heart, I grieved for the happiness I thought I'd never have. My armor resolve became a part of me. I didn't even think about it anymore. It was just an extension of myself, and it became easy. That is, until my sisters got married.
When they would come home to visit it was very bittersweet. Sweet because I loved them, I missed them, and I was so very happy to see them. Bitter because I knew I didn't have what they had. I battled with these feelings and I felt incredible guilt for my sadness. On one hand, it overjoyed my heart to see how deeply they were loved and how happy they were. They deserved nothing less. But on the other hand, why didn't I? When I was alone, when no one knew, my resolve would crumble after their visits. It wasn't until years later that my resolve disintegrated completely. And as painful as my divorce was, I have never regretted it.
After the divorce, entering the dating world was hard. It would be accurate to say I had some bad, albeit eyeopening, experiences. I had come to the conclusion that what my sisters had found was just not out there for everyone. It certainly wasn't out there for me. But on June 15, 2008, I was happily proven wrong.
As we pulled back into the office parking lot, I turned to look at my boss. I told him how lucky he and his wife were. Then I said, “I didn't get married thinking I would get a divorce, but things don't always work out the way you hope. I knew it was out there, my sisters have it, but I didn't think it was out there for me. I thought at best I would end up with whoever sucked the least.” He laughed at this. Then I said, “I know it sounds funny, but I'm serious. I figured I would either stay single or settle for whoever sucked the least. That's why he amazes me so much. I can't get over how good we get along, how compatible we are. It's not just a few good things, everything is good. Everyday it overwhelms me. He overwhelms me. We will get married one day, but for now we are happy just to have found each other.” At that he just nodded his head and we went back in the office.
I wonder what we'll talk about on our way home from the next business meeting?

Finding Love

2009-07-08T06:54:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I should put a disclaimer on this story, especially for my sister. It is very sappy. My sister will either say "gross" or that it made her throw up a little in her mouth. :) However, I am thinking about how lucky I am today. Lucky to be loved by the most wonderful man I have ever met. Lucky to laugh with him everyday. Lucky to get to look into his eyes and know that I am home.
I wrote this a couple of months after we started dating. From the beginning it was different, he stood out among the rest. I kept thinking he would change after I got to know him better. This situation is what my sister calls the "representative." You know what I mean. When you first meet someone and they seem great. Then after a while, you slowly see their true colors until you realize they are not the person you thought. We (my sister and I) had decided that on a first date, men should shake your hand and say, "Hi. I am Joe's representative. I am all of Joe's good qualities and none of his bad ones. If things go well, you might get to meet the real Joe in a few months." However, to my surprise, he never changed. He is exactly the same wonderful man today as he was on our first date, over a year ago.
So, sis, if you're reading this, you might want to look away now. :)

He is the most amazing man I have ever met. Everything I have ever wanted to find in a man, I have found in him. He is not like the rest, with a few good qualities. On the contrary, he has them all. He is the definition of the right man for me. I guess that is why I feel as if I have found the love of my life, my soul mate, my “Mr. Right.” I am so grateful I saw him that night, and as girly as it may sound, I believe it was meant to happen. In my heart I know I am supposed to be with him. Although it has only been a short time, I honestly can’t imagine my life without him, and I don’t want to. I’m not saying I can’t live without him, I know that I can, I did for a long time. But with him…oh how wonderful things are with him. I am happier than I have ever been. If I had to go back to living without him, I’m afraid I would never truly be happy again. Now that I found him, I don’t want to lose him. I found my smile. Not a surface, superficial smile that I paint on my face to hide what I really feel. Instead, for the first time, my smile is genuine. Not only is it genuine, I can’t seem to wipe it off my face. This smile comes from deep down. It is not masking what I feel, it is revealing it…happiness. He makes me happy. Not “having a good time” happy. Rather, it is deep down, from the bottom of my soul, happy. I have loved before, but my feelings for him have grown into something that stand alone; without competition, without comparison, without rival. Everything in my past seems so insignificant next to how my heart feels about him. I have never felt this way. This is the first time in my life I have experienced love the way it should be…thoughtful, passionate, respectful, and mutual. It may have taken 36 years, but for the first time in my life, I am in love.

My Son...the grown up?

2009-07-01T07:08:00.000-07:00

In honor of my son's 18th birthday, I am posting this. I would like to clarify that it is not really a short story, but more like a rant. :)
If you are, or have been, the mother of a teenager, does this sound familiar?
If you plan to have children, or have small children, my prayers are with you; your time is coming.

When I turned 18 years old, I felt ready for life outside my parents' home. I didn't see myself as a child, and didn't want the world to view me as one either. I didn't think 18 was too early at all to be considered an adult in the eyes of the law. Granted, I had seen things and been through more than your typical 18 year old. Not to mention the fact that I am female and it is common knowledge that girls generally mature faster than boys. However, now that my son has turned 18...well, let's just say I'm having reservations.
There is no way this child is ready to face the world. I mean, how can he face it when he thinks it revolves around him? The other day he was going to work with his father. The plan was that he was going to meet his dad at 7:00am. I had to get up for work anyway, so I planned to wake him. When I asked him the night before what time he needed to get up, he told me that he didn't need me to wake him up and that he could wake himself up. He proceeded to inform me of the fact that his phone had an alarm clock, and that he was not a child. Proud of him and thinking how grown up my boy was becoming, I went to bed. The next morning while I was getting ready for work, it occurred to me that I had not heard him leave. I went to his room and sure enough, there he was, still asleep.
This is how that episode played out:

Me - “What time are you supposed to be at your dad's?”
Him - “What?” he sleepily grunted.
Me - “What time are you supposed to be at your dads? It is 7 o'clock now!”
Him - “At 7.” (Please keep in mind that at this point, he still has not moved)
Me - “It is 7 o'clock now! Get up!”
Him - (Once again, still not moving.) “Why didn't you wake me up?”

WHAT!?!? Are you freaking kidding me?
But wait, because it only got better from there...
When he finally did get out of bed, he took a 40 minute shower, knowing that his brother and I still had to get ready. (Yes, we only have one bathroom) Within those 40 minutes, I beat on the door, unlocked the door and reminded him that other people had to get ready, and finally I walked in and flushed the toilet. In my house, you cannot flush the toilet while the shower is on. If you do, the toilet takes all the cold water to refill, which in turn makes the shower eight billion degrees. I then stuck my hand just inside the curtain and turned the water off. He said, “I was brushing my teeth.” I told him he could brush his teeth in the sink like normal people and that he was done. I then told him to “GET OUT!” in my best “I am loosing my patience” voice. After which he told me to shut the door on my way out because he needed to poop!
Once again, I reminded him that he was not the only person in the house and other people needed to get ready. I returned to my bedroom and finished every morning routine that did not require the use of the bathroom. As I finished, I could hear him on the toilet, moaning, grunting, and groaning. Now, I know my son, and this display of sound effects did not mean there was a problem. It was simply my little “class clown” trying to be amusing.
I was not amused.
By the time he got out, and everyone else got in the bathroom, I ended up being 20 minutes late for work. To add insult to injury, his phone was dead the night before so I let him use mine while his charged. After I finally got to work, my phone rang. He had changed my ring-tone to some loud, unintelligible rock song, and had it set on the highest volume possible. I jumped to grab my phone and nervously pushed at buttons, but it would not shut off. It just continued to scream at me until the phone stopped ringing. By this point I am shaking, angry, and certain that if I strangled him, no jury would convict me.
And again...there is more.
A few days later he was home all day while I was at work. When I came home he told me he hadn't eaten all day and that he was starving. He then asked me what was for supper, and when would it be ready.
Yes, you read it correctly.... Once again, “Are you freaking kidding me?”
This is why I say that this child is not ready to face the world. How is this 18 year old man-child supposed to support himself and provide basic necessities if he cannot even open the refrigerator to get himself something to eat? He'll never make it!
As his mother I am wondering how I failed. After all, isn't it always the mother's fault?
I may not have had a stable home growing up, but at least when I entered the world, I knew how to take care of myself. I'd been doing it for years.
Now I am wondering how to correct this. How do I help prepare him? I have entertained the notion that a taste of the world is what he needs to grow up. That he needs to get out there on his own. On the other hand, wouldn't it be a disservice to the world to put him out there? I mean, at this point in time he would either end up living off the state or being arrested for urinating in public or something! Seriously, I have this horrible image of him wondering down a back road in the wrong part of town, naked, dirty, hungry, and looking for his mommy! It seems irresponsible and unsafe to push someone into the world on their own when they are so obviously unprepared. Unsafe for him, and just down right disturbing for anyone who would have to witness the public urination! And you know what the best part is? They would be thinking, "Where is his mother?"
Fortunately for the world, his plan is to stay at home for the first two years of college and then transfer to a four year university. So, we have two years to get him ready. Two years to make him a man.... I feel like I'm standing at the foot of Mt. Everest before I attempt to climb to the peak.

Isn't motherhood fun?

Lessons Learned

2009-06-30T06:55:00.000-07:00

The other day I was on facebook and my cousin had posted about a breakup. Understandably, she was sad. It got me thinking. I think everything we go through in life helps us to be who we are. As much as some of the things in my past have hurt me, I would not be who I am today without them. I think the most important thing is to figure out what the experience taught you, because the only bad mistake is the one you don't learn from. I also think that in love we should suffer some heartbreak. How would we even recognize real love without the knowledge of what it feels like when it's not right? Not only that, when the right person does come along, how would we be able to appreciate how sweet it really is if we hadn't experienced a lesser relationship? A GOOD relationship deserves that. It deserves to be truly appreciated.
So, for my cousin, I am posting this. I wrote this after a "lesser" relationship ended. Although I was distraught, it was an important time in my life. I don't look at it the same way anymore. I have no hard feelings and no resentment. What I realized is that HIS motives didn't matter. Whether you fell for a "player" or just someone with different values than yours, in the end, it doesn't matter. Who cares! What is important is you, and recognizing what the experience did for YOU! We can choose to dwell on "what-if", or we can find a life lesson. As for me, I found myself.

God certainly does work in mysterious ways. Sometimes we learn some of our greatest lessons through our most painful and trying times. It can take a while for these lessons to be recognized and time really is a wonderful healer. It is also an eye-opener. Going through the trials of a painful time it can be almost impossible to see the good that will come from the pain. However, when you emerge on the other side, things can be viewed a little more clearly.
After my divorce, life was so unsure for me. I had never been on my own. I went straight from my father’s house, and his heavy hand, to that of my husband’s. Now, my ex-husband was not a bad man, there was just an unwritten rule of how a wife should live. I tried, I really did. For fourteen years I tried. I guess when you spend your whole life being what someone else thinks you should be, one day that mold will crack. When that happens, the world around you will turn upside down. Although my shell had busted and I had the freedom to be me, I didn’t really know who “me” was. I had always lived as I was expected to. It was very frightening. I was 33 years old, on my own for the first time in my life, and I didn’t know much about this woman I lived with. Then, along came a man.
This man was like no other I had ever met. He lived life to the very fullest. Like every other human on Earth, he had trials, but he didn’t let the bad things define or limit him. He knew who he was and he was comfortable with himself, no matter who else was. It was liberating to see, and oh so very contagious. I found myself experiencing new things and new feelings everyday. It was a glorious journey of self-discovery. Not only was he getting to know me, I was getting to know me as well. What a time it was! In just a few short months my eyes were opened to a new world. A new and exciting world that had always been just out of my grasp. To say that I liked it would be a drastic understatement. I loved it! It was as if he took me by the hand and helped me knock down all the walls that had held me in for so long. I was exhilarated. I was enlightened. I was free.
The crash that hit me when it was over was not pretty. I had held on to him for dear life through this incredible ride. Looking back, I know I held on too hard. At the time, I think I was afraid of becoming the fearful woman I was before I met him. So when it was over, I fell so very hard. I was confused and afraid all over again. This time however, it was not fear of the unknown, but fear of losing the person that I was when I was with him. For a while I did lose her. Or at least I thought I did. But she was still with me. She was just buried under the dreadful pain. Buried and waiting for me to heal. It took almost two years to truly get there. But here I am, on the other side.
As I said, God does work in mysterious ways, lessons are learned through pain, and time is a wonderful healer. If I had not met this man I would not be the woman I am today, and I like me. I know who I am even if no one else does. Through my experience with him I gained much needed confidence and self-assuredness. He took me on the most magical journey of my life and I am so grateful to God that I was able to experience that. I received many gifts from my time with him. When I came out on the other side of the pain I was stronger, wiser, and bolder than before. It was my crossroads. And when I emerged, he had introduced me to Talisha.

Quotes for the day

2009-06-24T03:23:00.000-07:00

Sometimes words come to me at the oddest times. Once I was lying in bed and the first paragraph of a short story just popped in my head. Usually if I don't write it down immediately I loose it, so that night I got out of bed and wrote down what was in my head. After I wrote that first paragraph down, the rest just poured. What I am posting now is just a couple of quotes that formed while I was in the shower one afternoon. I think in some way or another, they can apply to almost anyone. They definitely apply to me.
Growing up, my childhood was....let's just say dysfunctional. I think a large part of my insecurities stem in some way from events in the past. I also think that is normal. However, what you have been through does not have to define you. You can't let it. This is something that has been hard for me. My insecurities stopped me from taking any risk for a long time. It took a while, but I have learned that sometimes you just have to suck it up and put yourself out there. If you don't, you will never "reach for the stars," so to speak. It's still hard for me sometimes. I am terrified of rejection. But I think in order to gain success you have to suffer some rejection. If you didn't then the success would not feel as sweet. I guess what I'm trying to say is, even though we all have things in our past that mark us in some way, don't let it stop you from chasing your dreams.

"There is a fine line between letting your past shape your present and letting it limit your future. What you have experienced plays a part in the person you are today, embrace your history; but never, ever, let it limit you from reaching your full potential."

"Being cautious is self-preservation. Being too afraid to try is self-destruction."

My Son

2009-06-23T07:06:00.000-07:00

When I look at my children, I am often amazed at how quickly they are growing into young men. As was the case the night I wrote this. Although this was written almost two years ago, it still applies today. No matter how old they are, I will always see my baby boys when I look at them.

My oldest son is 16 years old and in that teenage phase of “anti-parent.” You know what I mean. He doesn’t want to sit by me anymore, he’d rather I didn’t speak to him in public, and God forbid if I were to hug him in direct view of others. But when I look at him, I still see my baby boy.
For instance, the other night he was sitting on the couch watching television. I walked into the living room and sat at the other end of the couch. Now, like any good teenager, he pointed out to me that no one was sitting on the love seat, and I could sit there. But I, like any good mother, told him I wanted to sit by him. So he rolled his eyes with an exasperated teenager’s grunt and put his feet on my lap. He then asked me to scratch his feet. While this might sound disgusting to some, keep in mind that as the mother of a teenager, I was willing to scratch his feet because this was an acceptable form of physical contact with him.
As I scratched his giant hairy man-feet, I began to flashback in my mind to when he was born. The nurse brought him to me in the hospital and my sister and I opened the cocoon of receiving blankets he was wrapped in. We began admiring this tiny person in awe. He was so beautiful. There had never been a prettier baby in the entire world, I was sure. Then we counted his tiny fingers and toes. Ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. Oh what a precious child!
Then, my thoughts brought me back to the present. When did my beautiful baby boy grow up? Did I blink? What happened? Did his ten perfect baby toes transform into these giant hairy man-feet that were on my lap overnight? It just didn’t make any sense! These memories made me very overwhelmed with emotion and I just wanted to rock him and tell him he was my baby. However, being a somewhat reasonable woman, I knew this was not an option. So I grabbed my cell phone and I sent him a text that said, “I LOVE YOU!” He jumped to attention when his phone went off, reasonably expecting the message to be from one of his various friends. Then he opened his phone. At which point he read it, rolled his eyes, and grunted. Which in my world, I chose to interpret as, “I love you too mom.”