Happy

I have become a big fan of the Bravo TV Housewives series. Yes, I too got sucked in by the daily drama. Recently, on the Atlanta series, one of the housewives was lamenting about how she felt some of the other ladies were bringing her down. Her good friend responded by saying "Never let anyone take away your happy". It was simple, but so profoundly wise.

Of course, we are all ultimately responsible for our own happiness. Yet, often it is not surprising that others are not so happy FOR us. Misery loves company. There always seems to be someone that wants to bring us down because they are envious of our happiness. Jealousy is the root of all evil.

History has shown us that some of the most trying times we have faced in this country are rooted in jealousy. For the current generation, the terrorist attacks of 9/11 are a classic example. After all, what was the so-called reason for those attacks? The answer is obvious. The terrorists were jealous of Americans, our lifestyle, our freedom and our sense of security. We had something that they never had and probably never would. Did they succeed in harming those of whom were the objects of their jealousy? Yes, but nonetheless, their actions did not get them happiness, freedom or security. Instead, we now stand stronger, safer and still free.

There are those who declare their rightousness to hurt others as they climb the ladder to their own perceived happiness. But as we have seen over and over again, they soon discover that the fall back down to the ground is a long and painful one. And there they sit, surrounded by regrets and unable to turn back the hands of time. Their jealousy and envy returned them to where they had once begun, angry and bitter, wallowing in self pity.

It is said that what goes around, comes around. And indeed, it does. In fact, it is much sooner than one might think. In the words of a little 2-year old friend of mine..."Be happy". Never let anyone take it away.

Happy Father's Day

Today was Father's Day. My father is no longer with us, so it was not necessarily a day of celebration. But I cannot let the day go by without saying something about the man that was my father.

My dad never finished high school. He left school to help his family by working in order to support them. His own father was very ill, and his brother was in the navy. That left just him to bring in the money and sustain the family. But, he was probably the smartest man I've ever known. He was smart about life. He had common sense. He was strong and kind and proud. He never liked to ask anyone to do anything for him, as he always said that if you want something done right, just do it yourself. I must admit that I subscribe to the same thinking myself. The thing that I liked best about my dad was that he never spoke a harsh or hateful word. He supported me no matter what I decided to do, even if he didn't agree with some of my decisions. He always said, "I just want you to be happy". I loved him for that. He taught me right from wrong, and how to treat others with respect and courtesy.

He worked very hard at his job as a laborer and a supervisor of the mechanics at the plant. He had wanted to be a police officer, but at that time, many of our military men and women were returning from WWII, and they got those types of jobs firt.

He never missed a day of work, even when he was sick. It didn't matter to him if I woke him up out of a sound sleep to to tell that I had had a bad dream. He never got mad even though he had to wake up at 4 am to go to work. When I got a C in chemistry, he understood how hard it was for me and just let it go. There were no lectures or punishments. Just understanding. When I told him that I was going to give him his first grandchild, he was so happy. He was always there for me when I needed him right up to the very end. When he finally told me that it was time for him to leave this earth, it was very hard. As much as I wanted and needed him to stay a little longer, I knew that it was my time to give back to him all that he had given to me. Despite my sorrow, I let him go to heaven where so many of those who loved him were there to meet him once again. I knew he would be happy there. It was the right thing to do. I miss his stories and his silly jokes. I miss his love. I miss talking about the weather and politics and war stories. But I know that he is in a better place with his family where he wanted to be. He had watched so many of them pass away, and he must have longed for them having been the youngist in the family.He always promised me not to worry because "you have a back up" as he would say.
It meant so much more than just money, it was knowing that I was never alone in the world. I'll burn a candle for him tonight. I miss you, Dad. Happy Father's Day in Heaven. I love you......... Susan

My Favorite Four Letter Word

It's not what you might be thinking. Although, there are quite a few four letter words that I'm very fond of and probably use way too much. But, there is one in particular that has more meaning than most words I know. A few years ago when I was setting up my craft room, I decided that I wanted to decorate the wall with some of my favorite things. So, out I went to the craft store to find the four letters. I collected the chosen letters made of wood, and went home and painted them. I added some decorative flowers and hung them on the wall. They were perfect and exactly what I wanted.

I see a lot of words displayed just about everywhere I go. They have become very popular. "Believe", "dream" and "imagine" are just a few. I see them on jewelry, signs, cards and scrapbook pages. They are all nice, but there really is only one that carries with it tremendous meaning. And that word is "HOPE". Without it, there is nothing. Hope is what keeps us going. It gets us up in the morning and helps us go to sleep at night. It gives us strength in the tough times and allows us to celebrate the good times. It is like oxygen. We have to have it. And just like oxygen fuels a fire, hope fans the flame of the human spirit. So, do whatever you have to do to remember it. Hang the word around your neck as a pendant or a wood sign on the wall. Never let the flame go out. Have faith, and have hope. Always.

Is It Just Me...

...or do you find that no one does anything right anymore? What ever happened to responsibility and accountability? Is there such a thing as a job well done? I was always told that if you want something done right, do it yourself. And most of the time, I do. It might take a little longer, but at least when it is finished, I know it was done right the first time. It's a good thing, too. Because having been a nurse for 16 years, if I hadn't done my job correctly, there would have been a long line at the door to the morgue. Of course, that is the extreme, but it would be really nice of people took a little bit of pride in their work once in awhile.

But, today it seems that the standard is just to do the very least amount of work to get by. It doesn't matter if the job is done well or done right. Just collect the ole' paycheck (and charge double) for a lousy job and pass the buck. Let somebody else worry about the mess you left behind. It's not your problem, right?

It started with the carpet cleaner guy. He worked for a company that allows contractors to compete for business. He tried to charge $250 to clean the carpets, and that's without moving any furniture! When I told him that I was not interested in him robbing me blind, he lowered his price to $120. When he arrived, he gave me a song and a dance about how great his "Kirby" was to clean the carpet with "foam, not water". The last time I checked, a "Kirby" was a vacuum cleaner, no? It seems that it has a carpet cleaner attachment. Unfortunately, it doesn't do a very good job, and the carpeting looks the same as it did before he started. And, no thank you, I do not want to buy a "Kirby", even if you pour half of a container of salt on my rug and show me how great it works.

Next, it was the PPL energy saving contractors. They replaced the thermostats with newer ones to help decrease consumption of energy usage. Too bad that they rewired one of them incorrectly, and I spent 3 weeks in a hot house because the heat was still coming up even though the thermostat was set at the "off" position. That's not to even mention the electric bill that I will get for all the unwanted heat. I guess it was unrealistic of me to think that the electrician could actually properly rewire electric wires.

So, the electrical work led to the need for a plumber. He needed to replace the hot water heater. Now, I know that my standards can be set too high sometimes, but would it have been unreasonable to expect that when the plumber left, he would have actually turned the water back on in the house? No, I must have been asking for too much because he didn't. And that was after I specifically asked him if all the pipes were turned back on prior to his departure. I must be too demanding to think a plumber would know to actually think for himself.

On to the handyman who installed the closet doors. This is a fairly easy task. It does require a couple of power tools, but it is a basic handyman kind of thing to do. It's not rocket science. All that is required here is for 2 doors to hang at the same level with equal spacing. But nooooooooo. The doors are off center, uneven and with a huge gap of space on one side. Oh, that will be 50 bucks, he said. Hmmm.

But the best one of all was the painter. He was called upon to paint a small ceiling, which turned out to be a job of monumental proportions. Now, let me just say that I told him the idea of placing a drop cloth over the top of a whirlpool tub was a bad one because you can't see where the edge of the tub begins and ends. It was a safety hazard. In other words, an accident waiting to happen. In only a matter of minutes, sure enough, the painter fell into the tub. Subsequently, the gallon of paint tipped over onto the tongue and groove wood wall. This in turn caused the painter to drop the paint roller onto the carpet which was NOT covered by the drop cloth because that was in the TUB!

So, tell me now, is it just me or what?

Time

There comes a time in every life when the things your parents used to tell actually start to make sense. Then you know that you're getting old.

I remember sitting at my father's kitchen table in Florida when he was then in his seventies. He said something quite simple, but for some reason, it struck me profoundly. He said, "I don't know, I really don't feel old". And now, I totally understand what he meant. Age is relative. "You're as young as you feel", they say. But the truth is, as we age and our bodies begin to betray us, somehow we never feel our age in our mind. We become wiser and wonder where all the time went. It seems as if it was yesterday when we were only kids ourselves. We blink our eyes and 20 years go by. And then 20 more. And so on.

In recent years, it has been in vogue to be in your 40's. But then 49 arrives and you start to dread that number that comes after that. Technically, the difference between 49 and 50 is merely a second in time. But when you get to that point, 49 and 50 seem light years apart.
Fifty is a half century. It's at the very most, half your life. Fifty is an age when many of your goals in life have been achieved. Fifty is when you are eligible to join AARP. That's exciting. So, where do you go from there? It's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. You just don't fit in anywhere. You're too old to hang out with the young people, and too young to hang out with the old people. Fifty. It sounds so much older than 49. As my father said before me, "I don't know. I really don't feel old". Now, I completely understand.

Letting Go

For many people these days, this is a time of transition. There is a great deal of movement going on, and we are shifting. For some, it may be just a changing viewpoint of the world around us. For others, it may be much more concrete, like having to leave our home for one reason or another. Change can be good, but it always brings with it some level of anxiety and fear of the unknown. A large part of it is learning to let go of the physical things we have surrounded ourselves with over the years. But, it is much more than just tossing old "stuff" into the trash.

Recently, I've taken on the monumental task of cleaning out the basement. Each box was filled with not only my own things, but also those belongings of which my parents had left behind. Who knew that cleaning a basement would actually become a journey into the past? Box by box, I peeled back the years. I found things that reminded me of when times were better and life was simpler. My daughter's cradle, my old nursing school books, my mother's wedding portrait and my father's boyhood train set all flooded my mind with memories. I realized that I was repeatedly passing by the little pink doll stroller and Playskool barbecue set . What was I thinking? We had moved to this house 10 years ago. Surely a nearly 9 year old was not going to push a doll carriage down the street or fix dinner with the plastic hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill. It was all about letting go. I wasn't ready.

But, it was time. It was time to let go of what was and what used to be. It was time to accept what is and what will never be. But, it's okay. In the end, it really isn't about the physical things. It is about what they represent and symbolize. We don't have to drag around boxes of things from place to place. Because all we will ever need, we already have. Etched in our mind and hearts are our memories, forever our very own and never to be taken away.

It's Human

Recently in the wee hours of the morning, I found myself watching the newest crafting video of a favorite youtuber. At first, it seemed just like the usual informative and entertaining videos I was used to seeing on this particular channel. But, a few minutes into it, everything changed. What unfolded thereafter, was something that you might usually hear from someone sitting on a therapist's couch behind closed doors. With only the picture on the video of what was usually the busy hands of a crafter, was now just two hands folded together and unusually still. Her voice began to get a bit shaky, but her message was resoundingly clear. She spoke of her world being turned upside down by the realization that she and her husband would have to sell their home of 12 years, a home she thought she would someday "die in". Speaking of the anxiety, worry and fear of the unknown, it all spilled out in a matter of minutes. As if that was not enough, she was faced with going through all of the personal belongings of her parents whom had both passed away within the last 10 years.

I sat glued to the computer screen not sure of what to think. It would be impossible not to feel for this woman who had opened up her heart in this display of emotion, but there was part of me that thought, "She's going to regret this". But, I was wrong.

For within moments of posting that video, the woman was barraged with emails, youtube comments and text messages... FROM AROUND THE WORLD. They came from all corners of the earth, not expressions of criticism or ridicule, but messages of support and hope. They came from others sitting in tears at their computers, ipods, or whatever form of technology in which they viewed that 10 minutes of video. But, in the end, it came down to something not complicated at all. Simply put...the human experience.

I have always believed that the core of every human being is innately good. Though sometimes it takes a crisis to unite us, it reminds us to always have faith. I like it. It's good. I'm glad to know that the world hasn't "gone to hell in a hand basket"... after all.

I've Got Questions

I need an appointment with God. And I don't want to be dead first to get one. I mean, we are put on this earth with a blank slate for a brain, and we are just supposed to figure it all out. Who's idea was that? Life doesn't come with an instruction manual. These days, there is a whole lot of stuff happening in the world. It seems that a good majority of the so called "natural disasters", are not so natural after all. Rumor has it that it is all our fault. Yes, human beings are all to blame for the mess we are in.

Every single day I put on the television and hear about another disaster, dilemma or controversy. There is a lot of talk about the problems, but I don't hear about any answers. That's because we don't have a clue. We can discuss, hypothesize or research. But in the end, the truth is that we don't really have any idea why we are here or what we are supposed to be doing. There are pros and cons to just about everything, and wrong or right is all a matter of personal opinion. So, I would like some explanations. I want to know why, and where, and what and how. Then, maybe we can get somewhere. Where exactly is "somewhere"? Well, I don't know that, either. But, it sounds like a good start. Because, really, what good is having all the answers when you are no longer around to do anything with them? So, who do I have to call to make that appointment?