Christmas Time: 2010

Here I sit again. Up late. Can't sleep. I think it's a side effect of the meds I've taken for this pneumonia.

I like to be up late--alone to think. I've cleaned some. I've decorated for Christmas some. Mostly, I've just thought about things. In my solitude I reflect on the many changes in my life over the last two years.

Before I met my husband I lived with a dear girlfriend. I probably lived there longer than my welcome lasted but we got along well. We laughed and talked alot about things that made us anxious. And we made midnight runs to the McDonald's drive through in our pajamas laughing at ourselves the whole time.


Curiously, because it was not really my home in the sense that I could do as I pleased as far as decorating, etc., I never felt like an insider. I felt like an outsider watching through a window at the holiday merriment of my friend's family.

That was in the fall of 2008. Fast forward to now and the past two years have been remarkable. I met a good hearted man who is always in good humor (well, mostly~grins~) and we get along very well. I think it is because we both came from places in our lives where we were really lonely and had reached a point where we could truly appreciate each other.

We married in May of 2009 amid the blessings of our children and family. He has provided me not only love but a feeling of being safe in the world that I hadn't felt in many, many years. I was blessed by God who answered my prayers for just such a man.

In the two years since he and I met I accomplished a huge goal I'd set for myself: to complete my Master's in Rehab Counseling before I turned 50. I reached that goal with 6 months to spare. It wasn't easy at all. In fact, it was the second hardest thing I've ever set out to do. The first hardest thing I cannot yet talk about because I still harbor some bitterness and hurt over it. I'm working on releasing all that, but it's not easy.

I now have my own home with him. I can decorate to my heart's content. I won't claim to be good at it but I try. The inner kid in me comes out and I decorate with red everywhere and then sit back and watch the lights twinkle. For too many years I never felt I had a Christmas. Because of that "first hardest thing" I experienced, for years I didn't have the joy in me to celebrate Christmas because Christmas was firmly twisted up in all that "first hardest thing".

Now I do experience the Christmas joy. Two weeks before Thanksgiving this year I dragged out two Christmas trees and put them up and decorated them simply because I could! It is so joyous to me now even if it is overshadowed at times by the memories of the "first hardest thing".

So much has changed for me in two years. I've had friendships rupture and these will probably never see repair. I got to really learn about other people I was only casually acquainted with only to realize they weren't for me. We had competing and strong ideas about things so I left. But, I am still amazed at what they've accomplished.

Things that used to "be" my life are no longer as important to me as they once were. And now when I read or hear of these things I no longer feel anger, bitterness or envy. I only feel mildly congratulatory for those people to whom these good things happen.

I am now setting goals for things I want to accomplish in my life in the next six months which will lead me into an entire new career outside of counseling. It will be the fulfillment of dreams I've always had yet never thought would come to fruition. Much of this will happen because of the loving and wise support I get from my husband.

On my new journey I will take one or two friends with me because they also have the dream. On the surface it might seem that these friends and I have nothing in common but underneath the surface is true enjoyment of these friends and a strong kinship because we believe in the same things. Thus, we'll travel this road together.

Of the two (maybe three~wink~) I am the older one at 50. I have no embarrassment at admitting my age. I feel fortunate I'm still here. I think I can show that getting older doesn't have to mean getting dowdier or sacrificing dreams because "it just isn't done" at my age. Who made that a rule anyway?!


Those who know me best know that I have always marched to the beat of a different drummer--following my whims and curiosity into areas others have feared to trod. Sometimes I got in trouble, sometimes I didn't. The trouble was the fun part, the part that made me who I am now.

I've always heard that however we are, characteristically, when we are younger is how we will be when we are older--I certainly hope that is true because I have fun. I enjoy the belief in possibilities. I truly believe, given common sense, of course, that there isn't anything I can't do if I so wish and am willing to commit to it. That is why I know that this next chapter in my life will be a success. I am willing to sacrifice to make my dreams come alive where many are not willing.

I look forward to the future with childlike excitement and mild trepidation and I have reached the point where I can look back at my past and say goodbye to some things.

I'm still working, though, on saying goodbye to that "first hardest thing". I'll get it done. I know I will. After all, at my high school graduation decades ago I was the recipient of the "I Dare You" award. I've long since forgotten the meaning of the award but I still carry within me a great spirit of daring!

Merry Christmas!

Listen: it's important

March 11, 2008
--from my diary--

Here I sit. In the ICU waiting room in a hospital in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. I am pretty sure most ICU waiting rooms are the same--uncomfortable and too cold. We're strangers all -- and we are bonding through small talk as we privately worry and feel uncertainty over a loved one's progress and prognosis.

I am surrounded now by a room full of people I don't know and many I know only casually. Most of these people are much older than I, yet we are all united by our love of dear Irene, who is the one I sit vigil for along with these people I don't know that well.

Irene is now on life support and the prognosis is grim. She looks so pitiful hooked up to the ventilators and IV lines. she is swelling and not responsive to stimuli. We try to reassure each other but we know she won't make it.

What really saddens me is that Irene is one of my mom's best friends. In the past, when I would visit mom it seemed Irene was always there. She was just so happy to be with my mom. I love Irene.

Now, as she is at death's threshold, I recall many times when she would talk to me and I would only half listen. I wouldn't give her my full attention--not wanting to get too involved because I was selfishly wrapped up in my own private dramas.

As I drove to the hospital today I thought how similar this failure to listen I've been guilty of before. When I lived with my mom's parents years ago, many times I stayed up late to watch tv. My grandpa would be sitting at his desk playing solitaire with his well worn deck of cards. He would talk to me but I was selfish with him also. I would only half listen and when he died the only thing I really remembered him talking about was how great he thought "The Grapes of Wrath" was. My grandpa was in his later years a man of wisdom and patience. He was also intelligent, especially about people and their motives.

I now share this journal entry with whomever reads this to stress how important it is to take the time to REALLY LISTEN to people, especially those we care about and love.

Life is fragile. We may awake one day expecting to go about our life as usual then in a split second our regular, mundane world is turned upside down, either through an accident or through death. The fact that our world can change in an instant underscores the reality of life's fragility. We may go to sleep with all our loved ones safe only to awake with one of them gone forever.

We should not let complacency and selfishness have sufficient power over us such that we neglect to show our love for others by withholding from them our attention. Our FULL attention. Listening is a selfless gift.

I regret that I failed to listen, really listen to my grandpa or Irene. It's too late now. I will never know what richness of experience I would have vicariously gained from them as words only half heard are words not really remembered.

Next time you are with someone who is talking to you, focus on them. Give them your full and undivided attention. Let them know you care by really hearing what they are saying. Listening for only a brief time will save you much regret if they are suddenly taken from you.

BURLESQUE-NEW ORLEANS--edited post

On Sat. evening, Sept. 18, my husband and I went to New Orleans to see the competition at the 2^nd Annual New Orleans Burlesque Festival where judges determined who would be crowned “Queen of Burlesque”.

Years and years ago (too many to count) I made a brief visit to Paris, France. I was supposed to go with friends to see the Follies Bergere, but because it was sold out we ended up at a cabaret show. I was a naive young 20 year old from Mississippi, but, nevertheless, I wasn’t shocked or turned off by watching the show. I’ve always been an open minded person—even back then!

Therefore, seeing the N.O. Burlesque show was fun. I wasn't embarrassed at all. If anything, I envied those women who had the courage to do this. For some reason I expected that the ladies in the show would all be young and have perfect bodies. I was pleasantly surprised to find this wasn’t so!

I loved the show—even the raunchiness of the emcee. I was glad that my favorite entertainer won-- Coco Lektra from Texas. She did an outstanding number dressed in red. There was a live jazz band to play for all the performers. What I really liked about Coco was her beautiful smile and her expression that conveyed how much fun she was having. I like the other contestants also--one used a giant swing to show us her acrobatic talents and another used a giant couch to entertain us with a very seductive routine. What really came across with all the ladies was that they had worked hard to get to this point in their careers.

I was glad to see that women who are older can still “wow” an audience. Some of the performers were no "spring chickens" as my granny used to say! Yet, they all managed to hold my attention and they all performed beautifully. (A "spring chicken" to me is someone younger than 25!)

Even though none of the dancers had perfect bodies, what struck me as the MOST sexy and seductive of all was the CONFIDENCE they each exuded. I realized that what some men have told me before is true: women who portray confidence, while not heart-stoppers in looks, are hot! They carry themselves upright with their shoulders back and heads held high as if to say “look at me, I have it!”

Another aspect of burlesque I love is the glamor. The lovely gowns and costumes, the high heels, the makeup and other adornment were splendid. I was reminded of the lovely gowns from the movie "Gone With the Wind". They also brought to mind how women used to get dolled up in dresses, stockings, high heels, gloves and hats even if they were going to have lunch with their friends.

As women, we have the option of utilizing these things to our utmost advantage. We are fortunate that we have a vast array of things to help us feel beautiful. And when we feel beautiful, we have confidence. When we have confidence, we turn heads!

Sadly, however, too many of us don’t fully utilize all the tools we have available to us! We opt for no makeup, ponytails, and jeans instead because it’s easy and comfortable. I'm at fault here also in this regard. But, it seems to me we’ve lost some of the feminine mystique in exchange for that comfort. While I am all for feeling comfortable I long for the days when, as women, we embraced a little more glamor in our everyday lives! Perhaps that is why burlesque appeals to me. It gives us that glamor!

Thoughts?