I Miss My Dad Today

I’m not a big fan of Father’s Day since my dad passed away two and a half years ago.  It’s not the same.  It hurts and I don’t know what to do to fill that void.

I never thought I would be the one to go to the cemetery to visit his crypt or to put flowers in the vase or hang a teddy bear on the vase, but I do.  I want the people that look at his crypt to know he was loved and that we visit to show our love.

Instead of spending time with him today I went to his crypt.  Even though it’s been two and half years I still get teary eyed.  I miss him so much.  I was daddy’s girl and now I’m without a daddy and I hate it.

Today when I kissed my hand and then touched my hand to his name on the crypt it sounded like a hollow knock.  For a brief moment I wondered if he would answer, but then I remembered where I was and that that wasn’t possible.

I wish I could open the crypt and give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

I don’t doubt he’s around.  I can feel his presence.  When I smell cigarette smoke when no one else is around I know he’s with me.  I hated the fact that he smoked so now he’s picking on me from the other side with the smell I hate and he’s probably laughing about it.

I miss him.

I miss seeing him sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette.

I miss him joking around.

I miss him saying “Hey kid”.

I miss him asking me “How the big guy (my husband)?” when I walked in the front door.

I miss watching football with him.

I miss his hugs and his smile.

I miss my dad.  My life isn’t the same without him.

I miss him.

Every. Single. Day.

Father’s Day is the hardest day to get through because I know other people are spending time with their dad and I’m not.

When I walked around the campground this morning I saw a family with four small kids — two boys and two girls — and it brought me back to when I was young and my mom, dad, my two brothers, and my sister would go camping in our pop-up.

He was a good dad and a good man.  He taught me to smile, to be nice and to always give back.  And he taught me to shoot pool like a shark.  He had such a big heart and was a very giving man.

Happy Father’s Day Dad.   Thank you for all that I am and all you have given me.

I love you.

I Love The Artwork Of Kelly Rae Roberts!!

I’m so excited!  In a month or so I get to have my own office.  My own office.  It was part of the deal my husband and I made when we started looking for a house.  He gets the garage he wants and I get my own office.   Right now we share an office.  It’s really not a big deal.  He’s not a bother.  I just want my own space.

Having my own office means I get to decorate it the way I want and I’m really excited to do this.   I have been a big fan of Kelly Rae Roberts for the last couple of years.   Her artwork speaks to my soul.  Her artwork gives me courage to move forward in my life.  It’s like she knows what I am thinking deep inside and her artwork is the answer to my inner yearnings.

Kelly believes that artwork heals and that we have to make our own rules.  She used to be a medical social worker, but then she started experimenting with art.  She creates the coolest stuff.  She even has painting e courses.  She has definitely found her calling and I love what she creates.  (go check out her website @ kellyraeroberts.com.  I’m sorry but I don’t know how to link things yet.)

I have her 2017 calendar (which I found on accident – well maybe not).   For the month of June there is a beautiful butterfly and the words “Allow the Unfolding”.   I love butterflies.  To me butterflies represent change and with this upcoming move I am in the middle of a big change.  “Allow the Unfolding”  OMG!  That is me going through every piece of what I own and asking myself if this is going to be something in need in the last half of my life.  It means to let things happen and take time to deal with the emotions and move forward.  That it’s ok to move forward and have the life that I want and to make my dreams come true.

Since I turned 50 I knew I wanted my 50’s to be fabulous and part of that fab is to follow my passion to write.  I need to let go of all of the preconceived notions I had about being a writer and all of the times I have sent query letters to magazines that weren’t interested in publishing my soul work and listen to stirring of my soul.  I need to examine my writing self and see what is truly there.  In comes my office…..

One of the reasons I’m so excited about my new office is I get to paint it any color I want.   I’m thinking of a light yellow.  I want to paint a portion of one wall with chalkboard paint so can write a list or draw or do whatever I want.

This office gives me a chance to explore myself and find out who I really am as a writer  (That’s partially why I started this blog).  It gives me a place to put all of my books.  I can have all of my writing in one place instead of in my office and on the coffee table in the living room.  I can’t wait to have my rocking chair in my office so I can rock and read.  It’s my “ME” room.

I think it’s important in our 50’s to have what speaks to us close to us and I can’t wait to have more Kelly Rae Roberts in my office.   Maybe a print on every wall….

Thanks Kelly for all that you do!  You’re amazing 🙂

 

 

 

 

I Am Grateful Today

There’s a lot of stuff stressing me out lately.  I’ve been grinding my teeth and I am probably kind of difficult to be around — at home and at work.

We are purchasing a house or trying to….there’s been problems on the sellers side. We’ve done everything we can on our end.  We had the home inspection a couple of weeks ago and we have all of our paper work in order, but that is still not making it any easier.  I never thought buying a house would be this hard.

We are on ten hours of mandatory overtime a day and I don’t want to work it.  We haven’t been very busy this year at work and we’ve only on voluntary overtime so I have been taking it easy and not working the overtime.  I’m down sixty hours of overtime from last year.

Even though my mom and sister and I had a garage sale in April and I sold a ton of stuff I still have more stuff than I thought I did.  I am overwhelmed because I don’t want to deal with my being a hoarder in some areas in my life (like my book collection).  How did I collect so much stuff and not know I had it?  Probably because I put it in a cabinet in the basement.

I spent the afternoon with my sister and had a great time talking and eating pizza on my back deck.  We laughed and goofed around.  Relaxed.

After she left I sat in my husband’s recliner in the living room and looked at the mess in front of me.  Screw it! I said out loud.  This stuff can wait til tomorrow.  For the rest of the day I’m not going to stress on my problems — instead I’m going to be grateful.

Grateful for the great apartment I’m currently renting from my cousin and all of things I have in it and around it.

Grateful that I have a job and that I’m given the opportunity to work overtime and make damn good money working it.

Grateful for the sellers for selling the great house so that we can buy it and that I get my own office that I can’t wait to decorate and write and create in.

Grateful for the great family, in laws and friends I have who are always there for me and love me just the way I am.

Grateful for readers who read and follow my blog.   Your support, encouragement and kind words mean the world to me.

Grateful for my wonderful, caring and amazing husband who I get to share this amazing journey called life with.

Are you grateful today?  Please share your reasons with me.  We can be grateful together.

 

 

I Love Books!

I love books!  I love to read.  I love the way a book feels in my hand.  I love to look at my book collection.  I love the fact that there is so many of them to choose from.

Books talk to me.  Some books strike a chord in me.  Buy me!  Read me!  They taunt me.  I can’t go into a bookstore without buying one.  Even when I’m in the airport boookstore and my carry-on is full, I am taking pictures of books I want to read when I get home with my phone.

I think I may be a book whore.

I have over a 100 books in my collection.  They vary in genre — fiction, romance, self-help, writing, weight loss and financial.  Louise Hay and Nora Roberts are my two favorite authors.

My love of books is a gift my mom gave me when I was little and she used to read to me before bed. I read all the way through grade school, middle school and high school and knew the school libraries very well along with our public library.  I was always bringing home books, but never read them all.  I still do this today when I go to the library.  I know I’m not going to read them all, but I still bring them home anyway.

Maybe it’s because inside I think the book will help me get closer to my dreams or fix something in my life.  Maybe give me a key to a door I feel is locked.  Maybe there is a part of my life that needs to be healed.  Or maybe I just need to get lost in someone else’s life for awhile.  It makes me appreciate my life more.

I have books in my office, in our bedroom, in the living room and in the basement. I buy them at bookstores, thrift stores and garage sales.

Do I have too many books?  Probably.  Will I read them all?  Probably not.  And this is ok.

I’m 52 and I deserve to have what I love surround me.

And I love books!

 

 

 

 

How Do You Measure Love?

My niece, Emma, and I have a $10 bet on who loves the other more.  Me or her.

I texted her “love  you”.

She texted back.  “love you too.”

I texted.  “Love you more.  Wanna bet.”

She texted back.  “Yeah.  $10.”

I texted.  “I’ll bet, but how do we measure?”

Is it possible to measure how much you love someone?

I know how much I love her.  My heart bursts with love for her, but can’t put that love into any kind of measurement.  It’s impossible.

I can show her that I love her.  I can pick on her until she gets mad at me and tells me (angrily) to knock it off.  I can keep hugging her until I get the same result as picking on her.  I can wink or smile at her.  I can kiss her on the check.  I can take her to the movies. I can buy her something at the mall.  I can spend time with her.  I can laugh with her.  I can send a card in the mail to let her know I’m thinking about her.  I can wipe away her tears.

But I can’t measure that love.

I know she loves me when she laughs when I say something funny or how she rolls her fifteen year old eyes when I say something weird.  I know when she walks past me and says “poke” as she pokes me lightly in the belly.  I know when she gives me a long, tight hug when she goes home.  I know when she takes the time to text me back.

But I can’t measure that love.

Does she love me more than I love her?  Since I can’t jump into her body and see things through her eyes and feel things with her heart I guess I will never know.

I can only believe.

So who wins the bet?

I guess we both do because we love each other.   We both are winners because we are lucky to have the other.

And, yeah, I’ll give her the $10 — because I love her.

 

 

 

 

My Mom Is My World

I think the older we get the more we appreciate our mother.  We appreciate what she sacrificed so that we could have what we needed growing up.  We appreciate the lessons she taught (even if we didn’t understand why til now).  We appreciate the words of wisdom, the wiping away of tears, smiles and words of encoragement.

I don’t have any kids so maybe it took me longer to realize how many things she did sacrifice for me and my siblings and what it meant overall to the well being of our family.

I was always a daddy’s girl.  When I was younger my dad came first and my mom came second, but the older I became the more I confided in her and spent time with her and the more important she became.  As I grew older I think my mom became more important and my dad slowly took second place.  It’s not that I wasn’t a daddy’s girl anymore it’s just that he couldn’t give me advice on wifely things or give me the female perspective on menopause.

My dad passed away over two years ago.  I have realized over this time that my mom was the rock and still is the rock of our family.   Her love and devotion to all of us is the glue that holds our family together.  She is always there for us whenever we need her — day or night — to listen or to help us with whatever we need help with.  Her strength helped us grieve my dad’s death and keep his memory alive.

As I get older I realize how much she has shaped my world and I wouldn’t trade her for the world.  I bought her a heart shaped piece of wood that had the following words written on it:

To the world you are a mom, but to me you are the world.

My mom is my world.

Thanks, Mom!  I love you!

 

Why I Keep A Journal

I have been keeping a journal as long as I can remember.  I have always been somewhat of a loner so putting my thoughts on paper was always easier for me than talking face to face with someone.  When I was younger I didn’t have a lot of confidence nor did I have the courage to tell people what I truly going on inside so I took a pen to paper instead.

Now I keep a journal  for different reasons.  Even though I still am kind of a loner I keep a journal to work through my past issues and not let those issues cloud today.   I don’t write in it everyday like I probably should, but I do write in it periodically.

Writing in my journal helps me deal with what is bothering me.  I can keep things that are bothering me swimming in my head because I don’t want to deal with them or I can put my thoughts on paper and deal with them.

There is something bothering me today that I need to write in my journal about but I am afraid.  I am afraid of letting it come to the surface and dealing with it because I’m not sure what other feelings are under what I am feeling and I’m not sure how to deal with it.  I know I should (I’m shoulding on myself a lot today aren’t I?).  Once I start I’m sure it won’t be so bad.

What is bothering me is an issue I learned about from my parents.  It’s nothing terrible.  It’s just something I learned about an issue that was far away from us when I was growing up.  But now that issue is close to me and I know what I learned is clouding my judgement and I really need to sort through my feelings.  I’m afraid to because I know my life is going to move forward and even though this is what I want I am still afraid.

Ok.  Sigh…..I’m going to go write in my journal now.

Have a great day!

 

Don’t Be Afraid To Learn As You Go

I was scared to death to start this blog.  Would people read it?  Would people like it?  Or would it be a complete utter flop?

I noted on my about me page that I would post every Wednesday and Sunday.  This didn’t always happen.  I was scared and let my fear get in the way of what I really wanted to do.

I stopped posting for a couple of weeks.  Actually, I stopped and restarted…..twice.   At that time I didn’t know that WordPress had so much information on line and I was so overwhelmed with posting every week and all that I had to learn that I gave up because I didn’t know where to start.

One day I realized that if I wanted to have a successful blog I needed to commit and post EVERY Wednesday and Sunday.   Even if I’m scared, tired (which I am now), have a million things going on or I have worked ten hours at my shipping job I still need post when I say I’m going to post.

I have to make it happen even if I feel like it or not.  If I want my dreams to come true I have to try.  I have to make my dream a priority in my life.  I need to give my dream the time and space it deserves.  Or why bother having a dream if you can’t do what it takes to make it a reality.

I’m 52.  I’m not 22.  I don’t have my whole life in front of me anymore.  I have a finite amount of time left (hopefully it’s 30 years or more — I still have a lot of things I want to do) and I better damn well make the best of it.

I realize that I can’t let me fear guide me.  Even though there’s a ton of stuff I need to learn about blogged I can still write my posts every week while I learn.  My blog doesn’t need to be perfect right away.  My blog is a work in progress and I can learn while I post every week.

Go, Chrissy, Go!!!

What Does A Fabulous Life Consist Of?

For me a fabulous life consists of the following:

—  Needs being met.

—  Being in a place where you are happy, loved and content.

—  Having a job you love.

—  Having good people around you.

—  Having room to explore what interests you in and outside of work.

—  Having time to relax and unwind.

—  Having the money to do what you want to do and that you love to do.

—  Having the time to practice what you believe spiritually.

—  Having time to walk, workout or whatever you do for exercise.

—  Being able to give back or pay it forward.

—  Having the time and resources to follow your dreams.

Is my life fab?  Some days….. I have a long way to go before all of the items of the checklist above are crossed off, but I’m getting there.

I used to think a fab life was being Oprah or one of the Kardashian’s.  Tons of money, luxurious vacations, huge houses with servants and chefs, kick ass cars, etc, but I don’t think that’s a fab life anymore.  It’s more of a life of privilege, but not necessarily fabulous.

I think we can each have our own fab life on our own terms whatever way we think is fabulous.  I know that the definition is going to be different for each of us.  I know your lists isn’t going to be the same as mine.

Take a moment today to think about your life.  Are you happy?  Is your life what you imagined it would be?  Are you living the way you want to?

Maybe it’s time to create your fab life.  If you did, what would it consist of?