my life in realtime

December 30, 2009

Missing you

Filed under: life in a small town — stacey @ 8:31 pm

We went out to the cemetary to settle some final details. While we were there, we went to the grave site. Mom did well, she said she knows you’re not really there, that you’ve move on and you are with your loved ones now. I told her you were throwing olives at Lady, Bandit and Sandy and laughing at them when they spit them out. We got her out for lunch today. We spent an hour or so writing out thank you cards. Sharon wasn’t able to find an address she was looking for, she tried to look it up online, but was unable to find it. We drove over to her house on our way to the post office, she made the comment that she didn’t understand why she couldn’t find that address, she has looked it up online before without any trouble. We went to the house and could smell an electrical burning. She called Kevin to look at the electrical. She turned on a light in her bedroom and we heard a “pop”. We went down to the basement, there was smoke and flames. She got her at home fire extinguisher while I called the fire department. She shut off the breaker and that stopped the flames. The firefighters came and looked over everything and told her they found some faulty wiring, and to leave the power off until Kevin got there. Everything was fine, everyone was o.k. we decided not to tell Mom. Sharon made the comment that if it hadn’t been for that one address we would’ve gone out and run errands and her house would’ve caught on fire. I told her I thought that was you. I told her “Your Dad wanted you to come home. That’s why you couldn’t find it.”

There is so much I feel I need to tell you, I need you to know that we are going to be o.k., that she will be o.k., as much as I need to know that you will be o.k. Jim Saunders came down to the house yesterday and shoveled the snow before I got a chance to. I really appreciated it. The Saunders also helped me make arrangements to have your chair picked up. Mom says it’s just to hard to get up in the morning, or even to come home and look at that chair and see it empty. Helen Ring and Mary Woods brought over food. She’s eating better. I think now that everything is over, she’s not under the pressure and strain of waiting around for things to happen, she’s doing better, she’s eating more and talking about doing things, volunteering an extra day at the museum, and she’s asked me to help her find a “good” yarn store so she can start knitting again.

There’s a photo of you standing in your class room, in front of the chalk board. It’s my favorite photo of you. I asked her to give it to me “someday”, she’s sending it home with me now. I plan to have it re-mated and framed and it will hang in my living room. I love that photo. I love the look on your face. When Bandit died, I heard her in the house for several weeks after. I really believed my baby stayed to make sure I would be o.k. without her. I haven’t felt that with you. I really wish I did. Sharon said she and Don were sitting in Don’s brother’s driveway on Christmas day. They’d just got in the car and were futzing around a bit when they heard five sharp raps on the window. She said they looked around and even got out of the car but no one was there and there was no explanation for the noise. She said the sound was urgent so they got in the car and headed home. She thinks it was you telling her to get a move on and get home. So they came over and stayed for about an hour with Mom. I hope it was you. I hope you’re still here, it would be so like you to stay and make sure that we would all be alright, but most especially Mom.

Sharon wants to have a vase placed at the grave site. The cost is unbelievable. The people at Jan and Sharon’s work both take collections and they are both going to use the money towards the vase, Mom wants the money Uncle Jim gave her to be used towards the vase, Don asked me if he could give me money towards the family flowers. They’re already paid for so I told him to give Sharon money towards the vase instead. Like Sharon said, it’s not just for you it’s for her as well. As much as I want my mommy to live forever, it’s a wish I’ll never get. I love you Daddy, and I miss you so much. My heart hurts.

Sharon and I had made plans to go to Florida in 2011 to visit Rosemary. I asked Mom to go with us, afterall it’s her half-sister. I told her we could visit Jeanne and Ralph as well. (Uncle Ralph was heart-broken when we gave him the news, and heart-broken that he couldn’t be there.) Mom said she didn’t know if she could afford a plane ticket, (Sharon and I will split the cost.) she also said she didn’t want to intrude on our plans and be a “burden.” I told her I never wanted to hear that word from her again. The next time she said “problem” then it was “bother”. I told her I was going to ban all those words from her vocabulary.

Tomorrow is New Year’s eve, and then it’s New Year’s day. The whole family is coming down for New Year’s day dinner. I think it will help her get through the next big holiday to have her family here. Terrie is coming down early to help me cook dinner. Then I have to go home on Saturday. I am worried about her, but I think she’ll do alright. I hope you really are here keeping an eye on her.

December 29, 2009

Hero’s rest

Filed under: life in a small town — stacey @ 8:29 pm

We buried you today. I can’t believe it even as I type this. So many people came today. Dr Cooper took time to come over for calling hours and offer his sympathies, he said he doesn’t do this for every patient, but you were special. You must’ve made quite an impression, he has hundreds of patients, but he singled you out. Uncle Jim was there, they left Virginia at six a.m. just to be there and then drove home the same day. I haven’t seen him in so long I hardly recognized him. When he smiled, I knew who it was, I’ll never forget that smile, or playing pool in his basement. He’s lost both of his younger brothers now. Uncle Bill and Uncle George served as pallbearers. Sharon showed Jeff the list you wrote of who you wanted to be pallbearers and that his name was at the top of the list. He was very emotional about it. It was so good to have him there, Mom asked me to make sure he is invited to all of our family parties, he has two beautiful twins girls, you would’ve adored them. Friends, teachers, neighbors, and students. You touched so many lives. Kathy Arble participated in the service and Harry sang the Lord’s Prayer.

She does well when there are people around. She was worried that she wouldn’t be able to talk to them, but she did so well. You’d be so proud. In time she will be o.k. Mom is a strong woman and you did everything you could to provide for her even after. Even after you’re gone. It was so hard to say our final goodbyes, but even harder when they wheeled in the casket for the service and it was draped in the Flag. The cop that accompanied us to the cemetary saluted as you passed by, the veterans had an Honor Guard there, they saluted as you were taken from the hearse. There was a twenty-one gun salute, (scared the crap out of Uncle Bill. I bet you were looking down on us and laughing) they played taps for you, they presented Mom with the Flag and the gun shells.

My life will never be the same. There’s an emptiness in my heart that will never heal.

December 28, 2009

cold

Filed under: life in a small town — stacey @ 9:41 pm

Sharon spent the entire morning making calls. Canceling all your doctor’s appointments so no one would call the house asking for you. She called all the utilities and had them switched over to her name. She called your insurance company and had them drop you as a driver. She spent her entire morning and well into the afternoon calling people and telling them, “my father passed away.” Passed away, passed, deceased, died. She has really taken charge and has handled everything, we’ve done our best to keep mom from having to deal. Sharon says she is in “in charge” mode, and it’s how she copes.

We were discussing arrangements, we have the option of accompanying you grave side. Mom got upset and said she couldn’t do it. She got upset at calling hours last night because they had too much makeup on you. It’s so hard, it’s so hard for us all but even more so for her. You try to protect her and shelter her, but there’s only so much you can do and it never feels like enough. I worry about her, about what she’s going to do when everyone goes home.

Today is Jan’s birthday. I hope George and the kids did something to celebrate. I am so, so grateful we celebrated your birthday and didn’t wait. That would’ve been my only regret. I am so tired. Tired beyond description, exhausted, wiped out. I can’t think, I can’t focus. I miss you so much. I was driving home from the grocery store today and missed my turn. I looked up and I was at a light and it took me a  minute to figure out where I was, and how to get home from there. I was only a few blocks from the house but I couldn’t remember which way to go. I still have the Christmas card you and Mom sent. I will hold on to it, it’s the last card that will ever be signed Mom and Dad. I wish I still had my birthday card from this year. I just took it for granted there would be another one. I told you every time I talked to you that I love you, I forgot to tell you to live forever, you weren’t supposed to leave us.

I want to believe that there is a Heaven, that you are safe and whole, healthy and beautiful. Remember how I used to walk up to you and say “hello handsome” or “hello beautiful”? You’d look around and ask who I was talking to. I want to believe that you are in a better place surrounded by loved ones. I want to believe, I just wish I knew for certain, I want a guarantee that when this is all over I will get to see you again. The pain is unbearable, my heart hurts so much.  How will I ever get through tomorrow? How will I ever get through the rest of my life without you?

December 27, 2009

Falling

Filed under: life in a small town — stacey @ 11:34 pm

She turned to me on Christmas night, Christmas night, and asked me to go through your things. The next day Sharon and I took an entire day to go through your things. Took seven bags to Goodwill, kept two bags of clothes for family to sort through. It hurt, my hands were shaking my chest hurt, constricted, I can’t breath. As hard as it was, as difficult as it was for me, I couldn’t leave it for her. I couldn’t let her do it. We went through all your dresser drawers, all the papers you kept. I found your college diploma and transcripts, Sharon found a letter you wrote to Grandma when you were stationed in Germany. We went through all the shelves in all the closets, I didn’t want her to come across something hidden under a pile of blankets on a bad day. We found a plaque presented to you, a teaching award from McKinley high school, Sharon has it now. We found your bowling balls and set them aside for Jan’s kids to have someday. We found your Bible, Mom said you had it with you in the Army, she gave it to Jan. We found a certificate from the Army saying you had graduated from morse code training, we found your dog tags, we also found your brief case that you carried all through teaching, we gave those to D.J.  I will be starting back to school in a matter of weeks, Mom gave me your laptop, I also have yours and hers high school class rings. Mom gave me the pocket watch I gave you for Father’s day, I am going to hang on to it and when the time is right, when he’s mature enough to appreciate it and care for it, I will give to Scott. We found the picture of Mom you kept in the bedside table, we put it in with you, along with other family photos, your Christmas presents, your puzzles, a golf ball, and the blanket I knitted for you.

I was driving over to the funeral home tonight and I was trying to focus, trying so hard because I had the boys in the car with me. I started feeling sick, the closer we got the worse it was, I felt so sick. I thought I was going to vomit, I didn’t but what a massive headache I have. It still hurts. I walked in and started crying, Kyle comforted me. Twelve years old and he’s hugging me and comforting me. You would be so proud of him, you would be proud of them all. Scott has been at the house helping out, he’s been so good.

It was only two hours, but it felt like days. So many people, so many stories. Your father was, had, did. They all talk about you in the past tense. Past, gone, over. People you taught with, people you taught, people you did cardiac rehab with, your golf buddies, (I think they toasted you a time or two before coming) people you knew from security, people from church, so many people. Even one of the ladies who worked in your eye doctor’s office and your tax accountant. They all came, they all loved you.

Mom had you dressed in your Steelers’ jersey, the one I bought you for Christmas. All your grandsons wore Steelers’ jerseys. They beat Baltimore today 23-20, you would’ve been delighted. Mom did well once people started coming, she did so well, you would’ve been proud of her. She told me the day you passed, she went into the micu room and you were fighting them, you kept saying you couldn’t breath, you were restless. She said she walked in and rested her hand on your leg and you locked eyes, and you calmed down. She thinks you calmed down because she was there, I think you did too. I think you found comfort in the eyes of your wife, I think you calmed down because you didn’t want to frighten her. I love how much you loved her.

Jeff was there, you would be so proud of him now. He said he would do a drive by on his way to and from work, just drive by the house and keep an eye on her. I searched and searched this house looking for your watch, I even searched her car. We asked at the funeral home if any of your personal effects had been brought with you from the hospital and it was in the bag with your clothes. I was so relieved, it was the last thing I could think of that I needed to do for you. I gave it to D.J., he should have his Dad’s watch. All of the things that were important to you are in their place now, everyone has something special to hold onto.

It’s like falling in a deep abyss. I keep falling and falling and it’s dark and it’s endless. As hard as today was, as bad as it was, Tuesday is going to be so much worse. We found the notebook you had with the list of people you wanted as pallbearers and we are doing our best to honor your wishes. We had your calling hours today and your funeral will be Tuesday. We are not doing anything on Monday because it’s Jan’s birthday. We didn’t want her to spend the rest of her life thinking that she spent her forty-third birthday at her Father’s funeral. Jan’s upset, but it’s what Mom wants, and we know it’s what you would’ve wanted too.

I am so worried about her, I am so worried about what she’s going to do when I have to go home next week. Right now she’s doing well, she has good moments and bad moments. She said it’s hard in the morning to come out into the living room and look at the chair you sat in. It’s hard to see it empty. Sharon and I will deal with that tomorrow. Take care of anything we can for her, whatever makes it easier for her. Easier, easy, it’s not easy. It will never be easy. The grandkids are the best thing in the world for her right now. There are so many people in and out, so much to do and take care of, so much happening all the time. I worry about what she’s going to do when we all have to go back to work, and go back to our lives. I wish I could feel you close by, the way I felt Bandit, I wish I could, but I don’t. I can’t believe you are gone. I can’t believe I will never hear your voice again. I can’t believe I will be starting a whole new life I didn’t ask for and didn’t want, a life without my Dad. Last Tuesday, six days ago I was still a kid, now I have to be a grown up. I miss you so much. The last thing you said to me was, “If they change the time of the game again next week, I’ll call you and let you know.”

December 26, 2009

The last picture of my Dad

Filed under: life in a small town — stacey @ 10:37 pm

Taken at his birthday party November 29th. Lexie is opening his cards.

December 25, 2009

Fragmented

Filed under: life in a small town — stacey @ 10:02 pm

The last time I saw you alive, I walked into the house and you had a blanket over your legs. You held it up and said look at this! It was the blanket I made you. We are burying it with you. It was yours. I made it for you.

You called me a few days before the game and said they changed the time, it was on later and wouldn’t end until eight o’clock. You asked if I still wanted to come down and I said I wanted to spend time with you. You said “Alright.” I couldn’t miss sunday afternoon football. I have no regrets, I have no reason to say “I wish”. I wish I had spent more time with my Dad. I only wish I had more time with my Dad.

I can’t believe I will never hear your voice again. I have no one to go to now, for advice, for help, to make everything right. My world has changed and will never be right again.

I can’t stop moving, because when I stop it’s so loud. There’s so much noise in my head.

I was peeling potatoes on Christmas Eve and I thought I am so glad you were home for Thanksgiving. Next Thanksgiving will be the first Thanksgiving without you. Next Christmas will be the first without you. No, now. Christmas is now. This is the first Christmas without you. I can’t breathe, where is all the air?

I want to scream. I want to scream. I want to scream. I want to scream. I want to scream.

I drove her home in her car. She tells me the two of you were talking the night before and you told her you fell in love with her the moment you laid eyes on her and you knew she’d be your wife. There would never be anyone else. She’s been with you since she was 15. She’s only lived 15 years of her life without you. When I go home she’ll be alone.

When we got home from the hospital she walked in the house, turned to us and said, “I can’t believe I won’t be bringing him home.”

I took the Christmas tree down today. She waited for the kids to leave and told me to take it down she couldn’t stand it any longer.

It’s so bright. Every light in this house must have a 2000 watt bulb. Why is it so bright?

I bought you a Steeler’s jersey for Christmas, she wants you buried in it because it was your Christmas present. You still had unopened gifts under the tree.

I walked into your hospital room and held your hand. It was cold.

I was cleaning the house up and found a glass of water on your table next to your chair. I stopped. You held that glass and you drank from it. I picked it up and put it in the dishwasher. I didn’t want her to think the same thing.

She spent Christmas Eve morning making her husband’s funeral arrangements.

People will call her a widow.

This pounding in my head, the sound of my heart beat. How does your heart beat when it’s shattered into a million pieces?

The nurse walked into your room and asked if we wanted to take you off life support. She looks at me with tears streaming down her cheeks and says “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never done this before.”

There is an unbearable pain where my heart used to be.

We found the Christmas card you bought her.

We waited for everyone to get there before we took you off life support. It was minutes. It took minutes and you were gone.

If I had known the last time I saw you would be the last time I saw you, I would’ve hugged you a little longer.

You will never walk me down the aisle.

It rained today. Christmas day. Heaven was mourning with me.

My heart told me. My heart told me my time with you was short. I listened to my heart.

I dreamt that you died 8 days before it happened.

Mom said she thinks of you in Heaven with your mother, your brother, your daughter, all your loved ones. I think of Bandit greeting you at the gates, so happy to see you that her entire body is wagging.

Noah won’t remember you.

Lexie asked D.J. and Terrie why she couldn’t go see you at the hospital. They told her she would see you one more time but you wouldn’t talk to her. She started crying and asked “Why doesn’t Pappap want to talk to me?”

I am happy I talked to you about my plan, my ten-year plan. You were so encouraging and so proud. You were so happy for me.

I am glad we didn’t postpone your party. I am glad we celebrated your birthday. I am even happier that everyone, all 19 guest came to the hospital to be with you.

She told me today that she went from her parent’s house to your house. She’s never lived alone.

Sorry for your loss. Sorry for your loss. Sorry for your loss. Lost. Misplaced.

December 23, 2009

Take a night off, do not go to the gym!

Filed under: life in a small town — stacey @ 1:38 am

When she spoke those words to me, I turned around and looked her in the eyes and said, “I bet you never thought you would say those words to a client.”

That was Jennifer my Jc counselor. It had been a particularly stressful week. I was working hard, determined to get this weight off. It was the week of  Thanksgiving and there was a lot happening. I worked out everyday for seven days. On Thanksgiving day I went to the gym in the morning, they were open for two hours, I did thirty minutes cardio there and then went home and did weights and abs as I prepared my share of Thanksgiving dinner. That’s a total of sixty minutes, after dinner was over that night I got a bit panicky about everything I ate and did another sixty minute workout. Jennifer clucked her tongue at me, but Leslie was ok with it, because of the amount of calories consumed that day. The day after Thanksgiving while everyone else was out shopping, I had an appointment with Leslie. I went out to dinner that night, but I felt good about my choice. A salad with grilled chicken, mandarin oranges, grapes and strawberries. With the fruit it was plenty moist and so I skipped the salad dressing. Saturday it all hit the fan. Dad was back in the hospital, I was on my way to the gym when I got the call. Based on the phone call I was lead to believe it was minor, I later found out that was not the case. I continued on to the gym with the intention of working out, but after about ten minutes on the elliptical, I just wanted to be with my Dad. I put in thirty minutes and booked out of there. That night, after we left Dad’s room, we went out for dinner. Being the Saturday after Thanksgiving most restaurants were crowded, so my sister suggested a little diner out-of-the-way. It was an Italian place, all pasta and pizza and side salads. You couldn’t order a larger salad. I ordered a personal sized pizza with green pepper, onion, and mushroom, had I known I would’ve asked for half, maybe even a third of the cheese.

Sunday morning I went to the gym and I was stressed. I now knew the seriousness of  Dad’s condition. It brought back memories of two years ago when everything was happening at this time of the year. I was also in a panick about that pizza. I was having post traumatic stress over the ten pounds I had gained and had still not lost from vacation. I put in a serious workout, only thirty-five minutes was cardio, everything else was weights and abs. I only stopped because my arms were so fatigued, I even considered getting in another twenty-five minutes of cardio just to round it out to an hour, but at that point I had just put in a two-hour fifteen minute workout. Jennifer saw that and hit the floor. She asked what was going on and I told her the truth. I am stressed over Dad,  this is bringing up all the old feelings from two years ago when I didn’t know if he was going to live to see Christmas, or spend the rest of his life in a nursing home. I was stressed over the pizza, what do you do when there are no good choices on the menu? Working out helped me deal with the stress, and the longer I went the better I felt about everything, it was a coping strategy.

We talked it out. Let go of the feelings from the past, he’s been here two years now. (easier said than done) Focus on just today and what we need to do about today. Start making more time for self-care, get more rest. What do you do when there are no good choices on the menu? Pick the least evil of all the bad choices. She also suggested asking them to make me a dinner sized salad, they had veggie toppings for pizza they can throw in a salad, most restaurants will accomodate you even if it’s not on the menu. Stop putting so much pressure on myself to lose those ten vacation pounds. (how do you think that one turned out?) As I was leaving JC, Jennifer ordered me not to go to the gym that night, but to take a night off.  So I (very) reluctantly followed her advice. Ran a few errands on the way home, when I did finally get home, there were two netflix movies waiting for me. I spent the night sipping tea and watching Empire Falls. (Paul Newman)

I was unhappy with my weigh in at JC that night. I sat in the same spot on the scale. Didn’t gain, didn’t lose. Just went nowhere. I had worked my tail off, got in anywhere from thirty minutes to two hours a day. I expected to see something for my effort. I posted on the message board about it and my friend Mary offered me some perspective.  “Personally i would not look at that as nothing, I would look at it as  remaining balanced in an otherwise very hectic and difficult week .” (O.K., so she’s right, but as we all know I am an expert at kicking myself when I am down.) I took Jennifer’s advice, but it didn’t feel right. I have talked this out with Leslie before, and it may just be a matter of resetting my mindset. (Although I am still not convinced) If working out at this level isn’t getting results, shouldn’t I be working harder? According to Leslie and Jennifer, no. When I first signed on with Leslie, we discussed my workout habits. I was consistently getting my heart rate up into the 170’s. Leslie freaked, it’s too much, at that point your not burning fat, your damaging muscle. Leslie has also told me before you need a day of rest. Jennifer says the same thing, you’re working too hard, and your causing more damage than good, think of it as working against yourself. I am a creature of habits, and I am an all or none kinda girl. Either I give it my all, or I do nothing at all. Part of the reason I was going to the gym on a daily basis, is that once I blow it off, even for just one night, I tend to keep blowing it off. If I get myself in the habit of going, I go. I took that night off as per Jennifer’s orders, I went to KB the next night, but the night after that I didn’t want to do anything. I finally made myself get up and put in an hour at home. I can feel the ground slipping out from under me. As with all areas of my life right now,  what I am lacking is balance. I need to find a way to better balance all these balls I have up in the air right now, it’s a total juggling act. Work, exercise, diet, finances, weight, and me. (Huh, did you notice what came last in that list?)  Just think next month we get to add school to the mix. That’s a lot going on for one person, and never enough hours in the day.

December 22, 2009

musi unplugged

Filed under: life in a small town — stacey @ 3:12 am

I was chatting with a co-worker of mine, I hardly ever see her and I couldn’t help but notice she has gained a bit of weight. Of course I would never tell her that, but we started talking about JC. I mentioned my weight gain and my struggle to get it back off. She started telling me about all the health problems she has had this year, some I knew about, some I didn’t. One of the medications she is on causes her to gain weight, and it also inhibits her ability to do much cardio activity. She gets fatigues quickly, short of breath, and dizzy. We talked a bit about keeping your heart rate low, she mentioned she was looking for low impact, low cardio ways to workout and I mentioned some of the things Leslie has me doing. I felt bad for her because I know what it’s like to want to be able to do more at the gym, but to be so physically limited through no fault of your own. She’s in her early twenties and I really hope her doctors can help her, or she’s in for a long road of weight problems.

We started talking about fitness magazines. As you know I am not a fan of  Shape, Self, Women’s Health or Fitness. I think they are fashion magazines with a few articles about working out tossed in the mix so they can call themselves “fitness” magazines. You know how I feel about the girl in the bikini on every single cover of Fitness. We started talking about the kind of fitness magazine I wanted to read.  It’s seems to go to extremes, either you’re stuck with a fashion mag parading around as a fitness mag or it’s hard-core body building which is going too far the other way. When I discussed this topic with Leslie her suggestion was Men’s Health. How sad that I can’t find a decent woman’s mag and have to turn to Men’s Health. My friend Sarah sent me another magazine, and after leafing through it, I have read this one before as well. Better than most, it’s still, for me unattainable. Leslie is this level of fit, but Leslie workouts for a living. I have a hard time picturing myself at that level of fitness while working a fulltime job and going to school. (Did I mention school starts in less than a month?)

By now you must’ve seen the Dove Evolution video. The media distorts and manipulates images of perfectly beautiful women and sell us an idealized version that is totally unattainable and not in any way real. This would be my argument for Fitness magazine, putting an airbrushed twenty something year old in a bikini on the cover of a magazine targeted to women is destructive. With all the women athletes in the world, put one of them on your cover (not in a bathing suit unless she’s an Olympic swimmer) write an article about them and I WILL BUY YOUR MAGAZINE. With my current goal of losing all this weight I decided I put enough pressure on myself (there’s a revelation for you) that I do not need the added pressure by the media. So I am unplugging. I limiting the amount of t.v. I watch, not so much because of the shows, but because of the commercials. I am limiting magazines to only the two magazines that I subscribe to, both of which are knitting magazines. I am going to do my best to turn off all the hype, I refuse to strive to be an idealized version of an airbrushed woman. I am striving to be an idealized version of me.

December 21, 2009

Joypower

Filed under: life in a small town — Tags: , , , — stacey @ 2:50 am

Accepting full responsibility for every little thing in your life is what opens the floodgates to joy and power.

Or to what we here call “joypower.”

Every little thing,

The Universe

Once again, one of those tut messages just zeros in and really hits home. Accountability. Taking responsibility, for your actions, for your words, for your life. This is one of the biggest problems we have in this world, there is no accountability. No one is ever responsible for anything. Promises mean nothing, honor means nothing, giving your word to someone means nothing.

I believe that making a promise is the same as making a contract. You give someone your word, you are telling them I will follow through, and when you don’t you are showing your true colors. As Nicole Johnson said in Fresh brewed life, “What you do doesn’t determine who you are in the core of your being, but it does reflect what you believe to be at the core of your being.”  If you are not worth your word, you are worth nothing.

I took responsibility, unhappy with my life I reached a point were I was tired of sitting on the sidelines waiting for change. I made a plan and I set out to change my life. Things are coming together, slowly but surely. The finances have been tough the past three months, but I am confident that I will get back on track after the first of the year. My weight loss has gotten off track, but I am making progress. Slowly (very slowly) but surely. We make the best choices we can with the information we have. It may not always turn out to be the right choice, but if made with integrity, you can still hold your head up, more importantly you can still look yourself in the mirror.

I believe that there are truly wonderful people in this world, they are angels walking among us. Mine happens to live in Jersey.  Then there are people who play act through life, saying one thing and doing another, they have no integrity, and like the Picture of Dorian Grey, the reflected image only shows the appearance of their actions, but the real image, the person they are inside is ugly, cold and twisted. They take no responsiblity for their actions, they refuse to be accountable even to themselves, the have no “Joypower”. What they spread is not positivity, happiness or joy. ( It’s bullshit plain and simple.) That’s a pretty shallow life.

A little over a year ago I started out on a journey. It lead me in an unexpected direction. I started out trying to lose weight, and I am still on that path, but that path has merged with other areas in my life. My finances and taking responsibility for my debt. I could’ve taken the easy way out, declared bankruptcy and stuck my creditors with my bills, refusing to take accountability for my actions, but I chose to pay back what I owed. I chose to honor my actions and live up to my word. We had a contract, buy now pay later, not buy now and stiff you later. I decided that this was not the life I wanted anymore, feeling stuck in a job I really don’t like and haven’t for years, in a matter of weeks I will start down the path to an entirely new career that will have a major impact on my life, my happiness, and my finances. I am tired of living paycheck to paycheck, once the debt is gone, this is the next thing to be addressed on my list, and finally I want my own home. No more renting, I want a space of my own. Once I have all my financial ducks in a row I can make this happen, because my credit is good, because I took responsibility.

Joypower doesn’t come from your words, it comes from your actions. How you lead your life, do have integrity? Do you do the right thing because it is morally the right thing to do, or do you take the easy way out? Does your word count? It all goes back to the golden rule, treat others as you would have them treat you. Therein lies the real power of  Joy. Words are nothing more than noise if you do not back them up with your actions.

December 20, 2009

The last weekend before Christmas

Filed under: life in a small town — stacey @ 10:06 pm

I had hoped to get back into my exercise routine, but this cold is still linger on. It’s been over a week, it’s so contagious my friend Jen caught it just in time for her vacation. It’s my fault for blowing kisses at her. So instead of exercising I did the next best thing. I slept in. When I finally got up, I did get motivated enough to get out to the post office. This close to Christmas, it’s a contact sport.  I also stopped by the library, returned a few books and picked up a new one, plus a hand full of movies to watch as the snow fell outside. When I got home there was a little bundle of winter joy waiting in my mailbox, it made the trip all the way from England.  I took a little nap in the afternoon and when I awoke, I had no heat. The landlord had to come over and get the furnace started, the pilot light blew out. I did a bit of  knitting as I watched movies, and so passed my Saturday.

Sunday morning rolls around and it’s more of the same, still not over this cold, although another weekend of rest will surely help. I read, I knitted, I watched movies and even straightened up a bit around the house. I contemplated going to the grocery store and of course wimped out and decided it was just as easy to go one night after work. I only work three days this coming week (thank goodness) and then I have a four-day weekend over Christmas. My family celebrated Christmas Eve and I have an appointment with Leslie that day, other than that I have no plans for the weekend. But today is only Sunday and Christmas is still five days away. I spent the evening at my parent’s house eating Mom’s spaghetti and meatballs (there’s nothing else on earth like it) and watching the Steelers’ game with Dad. They finally broke their losing streak beating  Green Bay by one point. It is now nine p.m. and I just got home, so the rest of this evening will be spent straightening up the house a bit, and getting ready for the workday tomorow.

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