Give me a ring

Do you remember when we used to know telephone numbers?

It struck me the other day that we don’t while I was talking to a client on the phone. I asked her for the best way to contact her. She didn’t remember her cell phone number. She had to look it up on her phone. I thought that was kind of ridiculous.

Then I remembered that I didn’t know the cell numbers of my own children. Okay, I do know one because that number used to be mine.

But I do remember the phone numbers of my long deceased relatives. I will never forget them, but I don’t know the numbers of my own kids.

After my grandma passed away, I was tempted to call her number. I couldn’t seem to get it out of my mind that the number she had for my whole life was gone. She is gone. But I don’t know how to call my daughter.

What has happened to society? Does not having to memorize numbers make our lives that much easier?? It didn’t seem that way for the boater that we rescued last summer. He was stuck out hours from shore without even having a phone. After we found him and offered warm clothes and a beer, we gave him a cell phone to call for help. It took him a very long time before he could find a number to call because he was without his contacts. He ended up having to google a website to get the number of someone that he knew. I found that to be wonderfully sad.

Life is so much easier now that we don’t have to remember numbers. Well, as long as we don’t forget our phone. No worries, I can’t seem to live without my phone either. It’s not just my phone. It’s my camera, work portal, book, encyclopedia, doctor, map, news, friend, and my life. It is at my side more than my husband. I gaze at it for hours. It mesmerizes me.

But sometimes for a few short minutes, I long to be free from its hold. I want to go back to simpler days. Back to the rotary phone that was tethered by a cord. Ok, maybe not that far back! How about the first car bag phone? That was the phone that blew out my fuse on my first car every time I plugged it into the lighter. Or how about my first flip phone that I kept because it still has the last pictures of my grandma on it? The old land line that occasionally rang at midnight with no one there? Okay, maybe those days weren’t that great after all!

Now that I have my phone, I can’t fathom living without it. I wonder how many nights girls wasted sitting next to the phone?? Those days are gone. I can’t say I miss it, however sometimes I fantasize about being totally inaccessible. I don’t want to worry about work problems over the weekend. Some days I just want to unplug and commune with nature. Enjoy the silence. Old fashioned boredom. 

Maybe I should put that on my bucket list…   

Seeing beyond the surface

Last weekend my aunt Jan found a body in the lake in front of her house.

I have always had a love hate relationship with my aunt Jan.

My aunt Jan is bossy, critical, and controlling. She demands that things are her way, she doesn’t ask.

When I was a young girl, we used to have family reunions. Every year aunt Jan would pressure me into playing volleyball with the family even though I told her I didn’t want to because I sucked. Then I would play horribly and she would yell at me for sucking. After that happened several times, I had a “negative attitude” by refusing to play.

Games were played by her rules. I remember a few years back being involved in a family board game when she just announced out of the blue that the game was over. We were right in the middle of the game! It really made me mad, but she packed up the pieces and put the game away.

Every year at Christmas time, she demands that Angel and I sing Christmas songs. “You are singing and you are singing right now”. It makes Angel rather angry. But for some reason, I don’t protest or rock the boat by being disagreeable despite hating being told what to do.

Aunt Jan is a clean freak.

Several years ago a few members of our family along with Jan rented a large tent camping site close to her house. In the early morning hours a freak storm popped up. We packed up our camping equipment then huddled dirty and wet in her garage. She would not let us into her house to use the bathroom because we were too dirty.

She recently hosted two bridal showers at her house. She told the guests that they were not allowed to wear spikes because it would wreck her floors. There was no clutter and not one item was out of place. She made it known that children were not welcome. Children make messes. Both times my oldest daughter (17) was invited, but my youngest (13) was not. My youngest cousin who is also a teenager was not invited. This caused a lot of hard feelings.

Unfortunately, my aunt seems more concerned about the state of her house than she is about her relationships.

You may be wondering, like my husband and daughter do, why I don’t just tell her off. Nobody’s perfect. For all of aunt Jan’s perfectionism she is far from perfect, but we love her anyway. Sometimes I need to look beyond the surface of what I see to what I know. For all of Jan’s negative personality traits, she has some really good traits too. 

Aunt Jan is one of the most compassionate people that I know. She has a big heart for those who are suffering.

Out of my mom’s four sisters, I think that Jan was the one that helped my mom through her hard times the most. She spent a lot of time listening to my mom. I could tell that she truly cared. She didn’t turn away when my autistic brother Matt had some of his darkest days like a few other family members did. I saw that she was there for my mom when she needed her the most. For that, I will always be able to overlook some of her annoying quirks. 

A few days ago, someone left flowers on aunt Jan’s doorstep. I can’t imagine how horrifying it must have been for her to find someone’s body in the lake in front of her house. When I was there earlier this month, the lake was cool, calm, and beckoning. It didn’t look capable of taking a life. 

Sometimes our eyes limit what our mind can see.

 

 

My friends…

Sometimes I wonder, I sit and think. 

I have 3 close friends. None of them know that I have this blog. You probably know more about me then they do. Isn’t that funny? 

I am a private person, although it probably doesn’t seem that way to you.

Sometimes I wonder if they stumbled across my blog, would they like me?

Would they like the real me? 

Success or failure?

“Your success or failure is in your own mind!”- Think and Grow Rich

Yesterday my mom and I got a massage together. Before the massage I received a positive affirmation (the quote above). It really made me think. So while I was lying on the table, I thought about the quote and the words I would write in response.

Success? Failure? It made me think a little about my first marathon that I ran last summer. When I think about it, my mind thinks that I was a failure. I didn’t get the time that I wanted. To me that equates with failure. The first 3 hours were great, in fact I was quite successful. Then I hurt my knee. I spent the next 3 hours walking the last 8 miles in moderate to extreme pain. Besides childbirth, those 3 hours were the most physically painful hours I have ever experienced in my life. But I finished the marathon.

Did I achieve success or failure? When I crossed the finish line I entered the ranks of the 1 in 200 US citizens that completes a marathon. If I look at it that way, I feel successful. It was something I earned. It is rarer than being left handed (8 out of 100) or having AB blood type (3 out of 100) both of which groups I was born into. Most people would view my completion of a marathon a success even if in my mind I feel like I am a failure.

I am 41 years old. Am I old? I would bet that most of you that are quite a bit younger would say that I am old. Those of you that are older, think that I am young. Most people around my age are thinking that I am not terribly old. It is all about perspective. We judge others by ourselves. I can’t seem to escape the perspective of my own mind. I could look only at statistics, but not for very long before my own judgments sneak in.

I might think that I am rather smart. But I wouldn’t feel that way if I was constantly surrounded by geniuses. I judge your writing by my writing. I judge your age by my age. If I am bad at something, I will think that you are good. If I am good at something, I will be a harsher critic. I judge everything by my own yardstick. Your beauty, age, intelligence, income level, etc is all about me.  

Back in the beginning of January, I uploaded a video of Angel and I singing. I didn’t show our faces, just a blank screen. If you were to listen to it, I am sure that everyone would have an entirely different perspective. Some would think that Angel is a better singer (she is). Some would point out every error. Some would be able to hear the differences in our voices, some would not. 

If only we could get outside of our own mind. But how can that be done? I can be empathetic and relate to you for a short period of time, then I find myself back in my own head again. I can’t escape myself for very long. My needs, wants, stereotypes, thoughts, feelings, strengths, weaknesses, judgments, and life experiences cloud my ability to see you. 

Wow, that is pretty deep for a Saturday afternoon.