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Posts tagged ‘love’

31 Random Things About Me: 13, 14, 15

To see the beginning of this crazy series and to find out the why of it, be sure to check out: 31 Random Things About Me

1 Week from today I will actually be turning 32!

Today’s Random Things:

  • 13. I love to knit. In college I had a good friend, Lisbeth, who taught myself and a few other friends how to knit. When I lived in Pasadena, CA I would get together with other friends who loved to knit and crochet and we would sit together and chat and make creations. We even made some stuff to sell at a boutique one year. I loved knitting from the beginning when I was dropping stitches and things were coming out all wonky. I still love it. I also don’t follow a pattern and things still come out wonky but now I’m the one who made it that way and as long as it doesn’t look too crap-y, I usually keep it that way. I love my creations and I love to pass on the love of what I have made. Even if the person that gets something I’ve made doesn’t love it, they at least love the the time and love that I put into making something that is uniquely theirs.
  • Me knitting

    Me knitting


  • The most recent baby blanket I made for Anna's baby

    The most recent baby blanket I made for Anna’s baby


  • 14. I love massages. I know what you’re thinking, “Who doesn’t love massages” but I have a few people in my life that don’t love them. I am not one of those people. When I was a teen, in youth group at church, my good friend Alex would give me and the rest of the girls a massage. Okay, he was a boy and giving massages was a way for him to touch all the girls, but that aside I loved his massages. He really had a knack for giving massages and they were so great, to this day I remember them. In seminary the massage person was my great friend Laura. She also has a knack for finding the really tense places and working them out. Magic fingers, that girl has ;). I also love going to spas to get massages. I love the relaxing aspect and how great my body feels afterward but I also love the touch aspect. We all have the need to be touched in our lives and as a single woman one of the great ways to get that touch is through massage. I love the feel of it and just closing my eyes and remembering what it’s like to get a massage I can feel the relaxation come over me :).
  • 15. I love to get my hair played. I have often longed for long hair not because I think I look awesome with long hair, but because the girls with long hair get their hair played with more. I’ve got short hair and I have to play with my own hair but I have always looked longingly at my sisters with their flowing hair and the tiny hands of friends’ kids or second cousins who have played with it. I know it seems silly but that’s how a girl feels every once in a while. As I mentioned above, I loved my friend Laura’s massages but I loved them even more because she would give you a scalp massage and run her fingers through your hair….ah……………….. ūüôā

Memory of a Grandmother

My grandmother Summers’, had she made it to her birthday today she would have been a year older. As such she died last May and didn’t make it to another birthday.

Today I’ve spent some time thinking about what’s the best way to remember or honor her? Is it best to remember her on a day like today that would be her birthday? Or would it be better to remember her on a day in May when she died?

I can still remember that heartbreaking moment, talking to my mom in a parking structure after seeing a movie with my then roommate and hearing my mom say that she had died. It was a hellish moment and when I think about it, I’m taken right back to that moment.

So I don’t think it would be good to remember that day, it would probably be better to remember her today.

So what memories come to me today?

  • Her cooking. Not just the wonderful cookies that she made. Which were simply fantastic. Imagine the best cookie you have ever eaten and it doesn’t come close to her Chocolate Covered Cherry Cookie. It was heaven. But the memory isn’t just about her cookies and good eats, its really about her in the kitchen. She’s wearing overalls and her favorite apron and she is working in the kitchen. Painstakingly making breakfast, lunch and dinner and feeding her family both food and love. She loved her family and one way she showed it was by feeding us ūüôā
  • Hugs. Grandma Summers hugged a lot. We hugged every time we walked in the door and every time we left it. When it was time to leave and make the journey home she would stand out front and wave at us until we turned the corner that would take us out of view. I can remember making comments to my family about how much she loved to hug and complaining and questioning why we had to hug when we were just going to the grocery store. Today I miss that hug. I miss those skinny arms wrapping around me and filling me with love.
  • Sarcasm, laughter and jokes. I can still hear my grandmother cackling in my ear. She was so funny. She often told a joke dripping with sarcasm and I gave just as much as I got. I loved that. I loved her and still love her, even though she is not here.
  • Faith. Grandma’s faith was never ending. When the time came for her to leave she was ready to see Jesus. It saddens me that she didn’t fight but I understand that she was ready to go. When I decided to go to seminary she was a great supporter and when I told her about the abuse in my life she listened to me cry and told me how much she loved me and how much God loved me.¬†

Okay I’m crying.

  • Her written words of encouragement. Grandma was a great writer and great at encouraging. She sent me emails and sent me letters on every birthday. I’ll miss her letter this year.

Happy Birthday Grandma! I hope you are enjoying yourself in heaven! I miss and love you!Image

Grieving the Unrealized Future

My grandmother died 3 weeks ago. It’s so hard to believe that three weeks ago I was standing in a parking lot hearing my mom say that grandma had died. It was so unreal. Hours before my father was telling me that grandma might have days. He said hours but I really just dismissed that. I figured he would have enough time to get to her but he didn’t. I think he really regrets that but really he didn’t have enough time. Travel just doesn’t work like that. She was gone in hours.

I still miss her. I find myself on facebook where her page is still active and all the sudden I am crying. Until I moved to Pasadena 5 years ago I would visit my grandmother every summer. If we do a bit of subtraction that means for 26 years I visited my grandmother for a weeks time or so. I saw her in person about 3 years ago. I wish I had been able to continue to visit her every summer but it wasn’t possible. Money got tight and school got in the way. They seem like ridiculous excuses now that she isn’t here. I wish that I had seen her every year like before.

Regrets really aren’t worth any thing. They help me confront the reality but beyond that they just suck. So I try to be done with them. So if I move from regrets I move to sadness over activities that will never happen. I get sad over the future.

My kids (I don’t have any but I am holding on to the dream that someday I will) will never know a great grandma. I didn’t know my parents grandparents as a kid either but I really wish that my kids would have gotten to meet Arleen Summers and Shirley Boyce and even Vi Waggoner. I have no grandmothers left. My grandma Shirley has¬†Alzheimer’s¬†and after visiting with her I know she’s not really there. We visited her twice. One day she was completely gone and the other she was kinda sorta there. I don’t know which was harder: seeing a glimmer of who she was or the shell of the person I love. My kids won’t know her and they definitely won’t know my Grandma Summers or Vi. I wish that was still an option. I wish my future kids would have gotten to know the strongest women I have every known.

I’m pretty strong. I have survived horrible acts and I live on to help others survive their horrible acts. But I don’t think I’m a fraction of how strong these women were. Arleen raised two sons after her husband left her for another woman. She had no education and yet she provided for them. She was a strong arm with little time for compassion, she did become compassionate in her later years (after all I only saw glimpses of the strong arm and saw more often the funny loving woman that was my grandmother). Arleen looked at her circumstances and got moving. She didn’t let her circumstances ruin her.

Shirley raised 7 kids after her husband died in a plane crash. 7 kids can you believe it? She did it all on her own. She was a history teacher and the love story of how she met the grandfather I never met is truly something for the story books. She was an incredible woman who loved word puzzles and fun facts. As a granddaughter I never really¬†appreciated¬†her thirst for knowledge until it was gone. She used to bore us with facts every where we went. We would call them Grandma Shirley minutes and groan because they always lasted more than a few mere minutes. Although as we drove through Colorado a few weeks ago I was remembering how she would go on and on about the different rock that was there and the different settlements that had come through. I still remember some of what she said. She also had this love of birds that she unfortunately passed to my mother. My mom will sit outside and ask what kind of bird that is and I just give her a look that clearly says, “I have no idea.” But grandma and mom used to sit on the back porch and when one would ask the bird question the other would have an answer or together they would look it up.

My fondest memories of grandma Shirley and I are the memories of sleeping at her house and having coffee with her in the morning. She would have it black and I would add about 2 cups of sugar and lots of milk and we would talk. She would ask me questions and I would ask her questions and she would offer me breakfast and wouldn’t stop until I ate something. She also passed this annoying habit to all of her children. I can’t step through the door of any of their houses before I’ve been offered everything in the cupboards and the refrigerator. It’s fine if you’re hungry but if you’re not it’s just annoying.

I even have fond memories of Grandma Vi. The short story of Grandma Vi is that she is the other woman that my grandfather left my grandmother for. I didn’t know the full story until after I had formed an attachment to my grandma Vi. I don’t like what they did to Grandma Summers but I had an attachment to Grandma Vi and I miss her too. She and grandpa rarely visited but when they did I always had fun with her. She always dotted on me, I’m not sure why but I loved her for it. My mother has always been a saver, probably because we have never had lots of money. So when we went shopping she used to put everything on lay-away (buy it now but don’t take it home until you have fully paid for it). I find it funny that not everyone knows what lay-away is but anyway. I would try on a dress or want a toy and mom would buy it/put it on lay-away and months later it was like a surprise present. So when grandma Vi would visit we would go to a department store and she would say that she wanted to buy me one dress. I would say okay and then I would start looking at price tags and ask for the limit. This one time she bought me a $100 dress. I couldn’t believe it. It was white with polka dots and I think it had a pink sash. It was more than any dress I had in my closet and I loved it. I tried on the dress and when I showed her she could see the joy on my face even though I was trying to hide it. I knew that we couldn’t afford something like that but she said to let her worry about the money and that I was getting the dress. I loved that shopping trip and it is one of my fondest memories of Grandma Vi.

Grandma Vi died my first year at Fuller and Grandma Summers died my last year at Fuller. They bookended my schooling. I wish they hadn’t. Grandma Vi died of Breast Cancer and Grandma Summers died of kidney cancer. And Grandma Shirley has Alzheimer’s.

They’ll never see me get married. Since I was a kid I have dreamed of my wedding day (it’s a girl thing). I knew that I would get married in my dad’s church, by my dad if he could do it (and now I have lot’s of ordained friends that could step in if he couldn’t) and that my grandparents would be there to see it happen and we would all celebrate it together. I have one grandparent left and we’re not that close. My dream is dashed. Now there will be flowers in their place. It’s really sad and I’m not even engaged. I can’t imagine how it will be on that day.

It’s probably really silly to grieve an unrealized future but I am. I’m also grieving that I can’t call my grandma and talk to her. I’m grieving that if I were to call Grandma Shirley, if she could talk in coherent sentences today, she wouldn’t know who I am and soon it would come out because she would guess that I have kids or pets or something like that.

Grieving can be a really pain in the rear. Just when I thought I was good to go I got sucker punched by grief.

Grieving the unrealized future is kind of like grieving regrets: it’s not worth much and it just makes me more upset.

Today I’m knitting and watching movies because one grandma was always crafty and the other had a killer movie collection.

I miss my grandmas.

The top photo is Grandma Shirley and the bottom is Grandma Summers. ImageImage

A recurring dream has me asking: Why?

I keep having this dream that is full of anxiety and angst. I’m running around trying to get everything together for a flight to a foreign land. This time I was going to Germany but I don’t remember where I was going last time.

The first time I had this dream my aunt Cindy was trying to get me to the airport so we had to go pick up my laundry and then I didn’t have a ticket and the last thing that keeps happening in these trip dreams is that I realize I don’t have my passport.

Now what’s interesting is that I actually don’t have a passport so in the dream it’s not like I left it at home, it’s more like I forgot to get one so there is no way in hell I can get on that plane and leave the country.

Last night’s dream I was stuck with lunatics, one where they threw a party for me for my birthday and they let a girl get alcohol poisoning upstairs so I kick them out but on the way out they all stop to read me a poem they had written about me even though I know none of these people. Then I somehow escape the party only to go to a rummage sale where I am kidnapped and then I try to escape a kidnapping ring (some of this could be the suspense TV show I watched before sleep). Then I end up at my parents’ house and they give me refuge and hide me from the ring. My sister also gives me all of my stuff that I will need: suitcase filled with my clothes and a packet that she swears holds everything I need for my trip.

Just as I’m about to ask if my passport is in there because Tammy’s about to be conscious and awake Tammy knows she doesn’t have her passport, I wake myself up.

Because this type of dream has happened twice and because the anxiety of the dream is so palpable and because I wasn’t able to change the dream I decided to figure out what this dream is about. I can usually change a detail in a dream if I don’t like it or if it produces anxiety but for some reason I can never change this dream.

The previous time I had this dream my aunt was taking care of things but my mother came to the rescue. This time I was lost in a world that was inhospitable but my sister came to the rescue.

In my time of trying to figure out where to go next I have been kind of stuck. I don’t want to leave my life here in California. I like my friends and my support system and the WEATHER and the location and it seems so perfect. But what has kept me here the most, and I am sorry to say it is the lie I believe that: No one wants me.

That no one will indeed come to my rescue. Now the truth of the matter is that my entire time in California my mother has come to my rescue. She has saved me from a bind more than once and she has done so out of love.

This week I was talking with my therapist about my options. It’s been a while now and I still have no job that can support me and it seems as if that won’t be changing anytime soon. I have tried hard to get jobs I want and jobs I don’t want and nothing is happening. The one job I was close to getting just turned me down and the job that might have been a¬†shoe-in was not as it seemed. So my question has been: What now? Should I just go home, try to move in with a cousin, couch surf, or what? When is the time to say enough is enough? Am I just prolonging the inevitable?

All of these questions stem from the hardest part of it all: Am I just a burden?

I don’t want to be a burden but I realize that I am. My therapist tried to get me to see that every interaction with all people makes me a burden. But I don’t like thinking of my interactions with my friends as burdensome. Does that mean that when I hang out with Betsy over tea or dinner that I am burdening her? Does that mean that hanging out with friends is a burden to them? Does that mean being with my family, all I am is a burden?

I can’t think of my life like that. I cherish each interaction that I have with those that I love which includes family and friends.

I think he was just trying to get me to see that we all burden each other in one way or another and no matter if I move home, move in with a cousin or a grandparent, just my presence will be a burden let alone my rent free existence.

Even though I can see his method I still find it harsh.

Anyway I guess what I’m trying to say is that in this dream both my sister and my mother come to my rescue without grudge, without upset and do so because they love me.

So will someone let me live with them rent free, with the knowledge that I will be burden because they love me?

Will love be the overriding factor? …….

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