Simple Kindness

I had just hunkered down in my favorite recliner, when I heard a knock, knock, knock on the door.
I glanced up to see an unfamiliar car parked in front of the house.
"Noooooooo", I grumbled
& motioned for Husband to sit, be still and maybe the not welcomed visitor would just go away.
It was probably a sales person or a You Must Believe in My God Enthusiast, I thought
& I am NOT moving out of my comfy spot for THAT.
Uh Uh.

Husband didn't listen or comply.
He walked right over and answered the door.
gaaaaaa

I made myself small so as not to be seen as I listened to the conversation.
Seems Husband was given a gift.
I heard a soft 'Thank You' and a 'No problem' ...
hmmmmm, I wondered.
WHO could it be ??
I didn't dare look though.
I was in my 'I'm not budging all night' cozy clothes
& no innocent stranger needs to see that sight.
eek.

Husband bid farewell, closed the door and put the goods on the coffee table.
A greeting card, and two boxes of cookie treats.
YUM.
"Who ?? What ??" I asked.
Do tell. Do tell.

The kind stranger was a young man from the mosque that sits across the street.
What he handed Husband was appreciation.
You see, with it being the month of Ramadan, traffic in, out, up and down has been very busy around here these last few weeks
& sometimes their parking lot overflows onto the street.
Yes, it is an inconvenience but, no, it's not a big deal
& as I read the neatly written note, my heart melted.
The words explained that Ramadan, to Muslims, is the month of fasting and sharing God's blessings with friends, families and neighbors.
Genuine apologies for the nuisance traffic, many thanks for our patience.
Visitor had told Husband they were sharing their gifts with our neighborhood.

WoW, I thought.
WOW.
& then I felt guilty.

I so wished I had answered that door.
I wanted to thank this sincere human being for being SO NICE.
I wanted to explain my reasoning for hiding in my chair.
I wanted to wish him well and tell him it's really no bother ...
I wanted ...

"Now's your chance'" Husband informed. "They're walking back now."
& so,
I grabbed my jacket, scurried out the door and told that young person exactly what I was thinking.
He was thankful that I was thankful.
I was thankful that he was thankful.

& as I settled back into my recliner for the night, I was filled with wonderful, beautiful joy.

Kindness.
Simple kindness.
It's SO incredibly easy
& next time, I WILL answer the door

:)

I Am My Feelings

 










 

#%&$!!!#

I've never been one for cursing or cussing or carrying on.
Nope.
Oooooo but, believe me.
There have been plenty of times in this zig zaggity life of mine where I have wanted to fill my sentences with profanity laced obscenities.
Plenty o times.
But, I'd choose to keep the words in my head
& I would say "rats", "darn" or "boo" instead.

I'm thinking my Catholic upbringing, my non swearing in front of the kids parents and my working around children for so many years probably has something to do with my aversion to expletive language.

Truth be told though ?
It seems the older I get, the easier it is for those flippin phrases to make their way into my vocabulary.
It's rather shocking.
Appalling even.
But, don't you worry.
It doesn't happen all the time so there's really no need to tarnish your image of me.
The potty words seem to slip out only when I'm annoyed at someone or stressed about something.

So.
Don't annoy me.
&
Don't stress me out.
Ok ?!!?!

Thanks.

Oh, and if there is a don't call a professional, I'd rather do it myself, household project you need assistance with ...?
You might want to ask someone else for help.
Handyman gigs brings out the drunkin sailor in me.

Watch. Out.

Yep.
It is scandalous but, it is true.

I am a stress induced, annoyance produced, the words just have a way of jumping out of my mouth these days, closet cusser.
and you know what ?
I'm pretty  #%&$!!# proud of it.

Oh yes, I am.

! Earmuffs !

:)

I Am My Feelings

Very Ok

I had the weirdest dream last night so prepare yourself, my peeps ...
I'm going to tell you alllll about it.

My dream had me in a wave of people.
A very steady stream of hundreds.
Some were together. Some, alone.
Most were happy. Some were not.
But everyone I saw was walking in the opposite direction.
Every once in awhile someone would shout out 'Hey ! You're going the wrong way !'
Each time, I'd smile and say "it's ok ".
But, I couldn't turn around even if I wanted.
When I tried to go their way, my dream body insisted I go my way, the opposite way.
Last thing I remember was being very ok with going the 'wrong' way

& then I woke up.

That's it ?? you ask.
Yep.
That's it.

But that dream of mine has hunkered down in my brain
& I think it might be moving in.
You see, I've often felt like I'm the one walking the wrong way
& I've always questioned it.
I've continually wondered, is it me ?

Why do I like this when everybody else likes that ?
Why do I want to be here when everybody else is there ?
Why do I want to wear this when everybody else is wearing that ?
Why don't I feel the way everyone else is feeling ?
& I would think to myself that I must be wrong.
Or weird.
Or something.
It must be something.
It took me a very long while to figure out that I'm ok
& it's ok.

We all need to follow the 'whatever'  inside of us
& I'm happy to admit I am now very, VERY ok with my 'whatever'
I don't feel like I'm walking the wrong way anymore.
I'm walking the way I was meant to walk.

YaY

I'm hoping you feel the same way about the 'whatever' inside of you.
If not, find it.
Align with it.
Because when you do, I promise you will be saying ...
YES.
It's all good.
It's all finally, FINALLY good.

:)

 p.s.
Go ahead and admit it.
You love my dreams ! !

I Am My Feelings

Thanks Dad

I would tell him to write them down.
Please, write them down.
"You better write them down", I'd pester, "because you know how I forget."
He'd laugh and say ok, one day he will write them alllll down for me.
Then we would get busy with life and his stories would remain in his head not on a paper.

& then he'd tell me another
& I'd say 'Dang ! These are great ! Pleaseeeeeee write them down because you know how I forget !'
Laugh, laugh, laugh.
Ok ok ok ....

Until finally, I told this father of mine that I want no other anything.
No birthday present.
No Christmas present.
No whatever.
From now until eternity, I want only one thing.
One. Thing.
PLEASE write those stories down because he knows how I  forget.

Best day ever was the day he handed me that yellow legal pad.
On it, in his wonderful handwriting, are his stories.
I call them his Nine Lives.
Times when he probably could have, should have left this life but survived to tell the tale.

Like the time he was 8 years old and had strep throat
& his mama came thisclose to calling the priest.
Or the time the brakes went out on a car he was driving in Chicago.
Or those two and a half typhoons.
Or when he almost fell into a fiery mold at the steel mill.
The man has many
& in between his adventures he married an awesome woman.
Together they raised a family of six.
How he lived in a house of four daughters, two sons, one bathroom is the biggest survival of all.

My next quest for the person I call Dad is to write their story.
Jack and Lorraine.
How they met, how they fell in love, got married ...
You know, all that good stuff.
Dad knows I have heard this one many times before.
He also knows how good I am at hounding.
Please write it down.
Please !!

Hey Dad ?
Thank You.
For your stories, for your love, for everything.
I promise, I will never, ever forget.

:)

I Am My Feelings

 

Mirror Mirror

A baby looking at a mirror for the very first time.
Now, THAT is a priceless experience.

Staring.
Discovering.
Trying to figure out who ??  what ??
But always so open, so welcoming to this brand new 'stranger'.
Offering smiles and coos to that baby smiling back.

A toddler looking in the mirror ?
Can life get any cuter ?!?!
A toddler offers unconditional kisses to this reflection.
Hey, you there ! Yeah ! You !!
I. LOVE. YOU.
I love you so much I need to smooch you right now
& smooooch they do.

Heart melts.
Adorableness flows.

Somewhere down this pure and simple love line though, something happens
& today I'm wondering, at what point does our reflection change ...?
When do those questions and doubts start creeping in
& where does that I LOVE YOU go ?

I honestly feel it gets buried within each of us and just needs to be discovered again.
It's there.
It will always be there.
It may be skillfully hidden and difficult to locate but, it is so there.

Seek it.
Find it.
Because until we all learn to honestly love the inside, we will never, ever completely love the outside
& just imagine life if we all really, truly loved our very own selves.

Woooo weeeeee.
That's wonderfully deep.

So as you start your day and stare at that person staring back at you in the mirror, I hope you love who you see
& if not, maybe it's time to figure out why.

And because I am sounding very Saturday Night Live /Stuart Smalley -ish this morning, I shall leave you with his infamous quote.
"I'm good enough. I'm smart enough and doggone it, people like me."

Yep.
It's true.
Now go ahead and give yourself that big ol mirror smoooooooch
& repeat after me ...

I.
LOVE.
YOU.

Because doggone it, I do.

:)

I Am My Feelings

Hello Dolly

When it comes to moving things from Point A to Point B I have no problem offering my help.
Something BIG ?
No worries.
Something little ?
Ok
Lots and lots or not too much ?
Doesn't matter.
Let's get er done, baby !
Get. er. DONE.

My way of doing things has always been 'just do it'.
We will use our arm power, our leg power, our WILL POWER.
I don't care how heavy or oddball sized it is ...
Let's just pick the darn thing up and carry it out.
We can maneuver, shimmy, wiggle or waddle it but we are moving this son of a gun whether it wants to be moved or not.

Move it or lose it people.
Because when we move it. Move it. Move it ...
Boom.
We are done.

YaY

Throughout these many moves, there has been a constant and continuous pesty little voice buzzing around my ears.
"Why don't we use the dolly ?"
"It'll be easier with a dolly "
It's Husband
& his oh so precious dolly.
Dolly Dolly Dolly
Use the dolly.

I googled dolly this morning.
I wanted to make sure I was spelling her name right and you know what Google told me ?

dolly - a low truck or cart with small wheels for moving loads too heavy to be carried by hand

Thanks a lot, Google.
You're proving his point.

My problem with dolly is simple.
By the time you move big object onto her small cart, equalize and balance it and s l o w l y crawl to your destination with it ...
snore.
I could have had ten different items packed already.
We are moving man, so let's moooooooove !

So anyways, this has been the battle over many, many years.
To dolly or not to dolly ?
Husband prefers.
I prefer not.

Then along comes yesterday.
We have a tv that has been sitting around collecting nothing but dust
& since we are into purging our stuff these days ... Husband and I decided dinosaur tv must go.
But it's BIG
& if memory serves me, that beast hurt my back and put me in my recliner for a few days the last time we met.
soooo.
I relented.
Come on in dolly, we will do it Husband's way.

ummmm.
Yeah.
That was easy
& it seems I may have underestimated dolly all these years.
oops.

Oh Well.
Helloooooo dolly.
You're looking swell, dolly
& btw ...
Where have you been all my life ?

:)

 I Am My Feelings

 



 

Road Rambles Revisited

I won't be one of the millions traveling the highways and byways this Memorial Day Weekend.
Nope, not this year.
This year, I will be happily kicking back and doing a whole lotta nothing.
No. Thing.
A burnt hotdog on the grill, a fire in the fire pit, a lawn chair and ahhhhh.
That's all I ask out of life.
But since so many of you will be hitting the road and driving off to your happy place destinations, I thought I'd pull some words out of the archives. 

Welcome back to 'Road Rambles', written this time last year.

....................

First up
Billboards and rest stops.

For some reason, this trip, I took notice of billboards.
I usually don't pay attention to them at all.
Billboards are just there.
They have always been just there.
I take those very large signs for granted, for sure.
Well, this go around I saw them.
From the gigantic lawyer faces to the pecans pecans pecans, to the big daddy fireworks guy and the stuffy nose blows allergy place.
I noticed.
& I'm thinking
Billboards.
That's America, baby !
AMERICA.

& how about those rest stops ?
Did you ever notice how incredibly long the '47 miles to next rest stop' can be ?
Especially after the 'Let's go to the next rest stop. It's only 47 miles' conversation.

uh huh.

Next up
& this is going to sound morbid and gross but, I just have to ask ...
Who's in charge of taking dead critters off the road ?
Not the side of the road.
The road.
I mean, how do they get to the side ?

For instance, if I hit a deer
which I hope I never do because I would never, ever forgive myself
But, IF I would hit a deer ..
would I be in charge of moving his body off of the highway so no one else hits him too ?
Dead critters are almost always on the side of the road
& it got me to wondering ...
How do they get there ?

hmmmm

And finally.
Big trucks.

Growing up and traveling with Gramma, I remember her refusing to sleep.
She wanted to stay awake to alert Dad of the trucks.
When told by Mom it was ok to doze, her wonderful, loving Gramma words were always "I'll watch for trucks"
& watch for trucks she did.
Like a sentry soldier, she did.
I always got the biggest kick out of that little lady.
She wasn't about to let any big rig harm her precious cargo.
I could snooze peacefully knowing that my gramma was watching for trucks.
zzzzzzzzzz

The older I get though, the more I appreciate those big trucks.
Gramma saw them as a threat to her peeps.
But, I see them as my go to helper in times of need.

We traveled through some heavy duty rain storms yesterday
& although I wasn't driving, I heard myself offer this awesome advice to the man behind the wheel
"Time to follow the trucks"
Time after time after time.
Through fog, snow, rain and sleet.
I have always followed the trucks.
Those slow, steady, guiding light trucks.
They ease me out of the icky weather and into the sunshine.
Every single time.
Thank you truck driver.
You get me to where I need to be and I really do appreciate that
& YOU.

....................

& there you have it.
Words of wisdom from a patiently bored passenger with way too much time on her hands.

Safe Travels My Traveling Friends
&
Happy Memorial Day Weekend to all.

Enjoy !

:)

I Am My Feelings