Help for Healing

Bitter & Sweet, living daily with grief


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You Never Know

Do you ever get discouraged?

I’m quite sure it’s a normal part of the human experience. Now that I’m in my 50’s, I think things that I probably thought in my 40’s, maybe even younger. Why am I still dealing with this? Do you ever just stop worrying about certain things?

Recently with adding job re-design and hunting to my life, I find myself in the place where I was a couple of years ago – exhausted. Most days I leave a lengthy list of things that I don’t get done that get cut and paste into tomorrow. I know I’ve been productive all day, there just is more to do. Lots more.

Lately I haven’t been sleeping well either. Last night I was still awake at 3:45 am, knowing I had to wake Frankie at 5. I ended up skipping an important seminar in the morning and slept until 11. Then the most productive part of my day (usually) has been lost and the rest of the day is spent playing a hopeless game of catch-up. The only reason I’m blogging now is because I forgot to confirm an appointment so by the time I remembered we had to reschedule.

Don’t misunderstand me. I am not looking for a pat on the back. I am just trying to be realistic here. Does anyone really care about blogs? Does anyone even have time for them? Most weeks I love writing because it helps me process life, but sometimes I stare at a blank screen and wonder if I should bother.

Then I get something unexpected. This time, it was an email from an old friend several states away. I met her through my first husband, so you know that was quite a while ago. I don’t even remember the last time we spoke.

Anyhow, she reached out to tell me she was hurting terribly. She has read both of my books and been following my blogs for years now. That has enabled her to keep up with the basic gist of my life. She has now lost both of her parents and gone through a divorce after 35+ years of marriage. Many of those losses were piggy backed cruelly on top of each other. My heart broke for her.

I had no idea she even remembered who I was. I certainly didn’t know she had invested so much time into following my story. I was humbled and honored all at once. Again, it is not about the pat on the back. It is about the reminder that as we conduct our lives, we really have no idea whatsoever who is watching. We don’t know who we are impacting – for good or bad. Reminds me of the verses in the Bible where it talks about how we might entertain angels, not knowing we are doing so.

Thank you my friend for being the life jacket I needed this week. You gave me purpose when I was feeling discouraged. If you are reading this, please know I look forward to talking soon. It will be my honor to walk through any part of your journey with you as you navigate the difficult waters of re-inventing yourself after tremendous loss. I love you!


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Impatience is Not a Virtue

I feel like I have a fair number of strengths but patience has definitely not been one of them. It took me until I was an adult to realize that I get that from my dad. He is one of those guys that when he wants an answer or needs to do something, he demands an immediate response. He is a gentle and quiet guy though, so it took me a while to figure that out.

I’ve been thinking about it the last 48 hours that I’ve been watching the snow fall in the month of April, feeling the freezing, strong wind. I walk the dog every day and still have layers of clothing along with a winter coat, hat and gloves. I know I’m not alone. Most people have been sick of this typical Buffalo winter since the beginning of March. We have paid up for the last two mild winters in full. When the heck is spring coming? Fine, skip it, but then let summer come.

That kind of impatience doesn’t really hurt anyone except me. It makes me complain about not getting away to somewhere sunny this winter after I promised myself I would all year. It gives me an excuse to give in if the depression knocks at my door. But mostly I only make myself miserable.

Being impatient with others though is a different story. Sometimes, people say I have the patience of a saint. Sometimes, I put up with things much, much longer than I should. I have a very high forgiveness tolerance too. I guess I don’t fall on the evil scale when it comes to the big picture.

But sometimes, I do hurt people with how impatient I am. I am a type A driven person who has learned to get things done yesterday. I have a hard time understanding why everyone doesn’t behave that way. What? You know you have to do that and you didn’t stay up all night to accomplish it? What? You know you have that deadline and you didn’t power through your pneumonia anyway? I’m exaggerating a little, but you get the idea.

I’m heading back for a refresher appointment with the spiritual director I used to see regularly. She was relentless with her acceptance of other people and distributing unconditional love to the best of her ability. I need her to remind me of the big picture and being kind to myself while also fully understanding that I don’t hold the key to the secrets of the universe. She helps me be true to my path, but recognize that other people have their own.

One of my dear friends reminded me today that as a single parent who has handled the myriads of things I have managed over the years, I have had to be tough and uber-responsible. I can’t lose some of those standards and boundaries I have shed so much blood, sweat and tears to earn. But I also want to remember to be kind and gentle, and learn to relax a bit. I’ve made some progress over the years, but life has a way of bringing things back full circle to you.

Moral of the story is, that in some ironic way, I am asking others to be patient with me and my growth, at the same time that patience is so lacking in myself. Kinda nervy, isn’t it?

Well, be patient with me.