Onwards and Upwards
I had a really satisfying weekend which made up for all the crap and grief I wallowed in last week. The grief is still there but it's no longer the front and center of my heart. I put it behind me like he but me behind him.
I'm really happy with the way I've evolved in my feelings about Valentine's Day. I went from hating it to barely tolerating it to claiming it now to now just a tad bit of indifference toward the whole romantic notion part of it. I've reimagined my thinking and instead of bemoaning a romance-less existence, I see it as an opportunity to lavish my loved ones. I made cake batter truffles for the kids, my parents and Granny. I soaked cherries in rum before dipping them in chocolate for Daddy. I baked heart shaped cookies for a co-worker, her niece and sister. I baked blueberry scones for E and A. I bought myself a big box of chocolates and cooked myself a steak (it was marked down) with potatoes and sautéed mushrooms.
I also worked for three hours on Saturday. I signed up to work it because a) Unlike the rest of my work family, I don't have a significant other and b) I wanted to get those hours out of the way. Ended up being the best decision I could have made. Sis2 met me for lunch and we sat in the deli and talked for three hours. We talked about Paw-paw and how we felt and don't feel. Turns out she shares a lot of the same feelings I do but maybe a deeper hurt because she was once a lot closer to him than I ever was. But we talked about happy things, too. We talked about the kids, our parents, and television. Just one of those good long meandering sister talks.
I followed her home to take the kids their goodies and I got some delicious hugs and kisses. And I got to watch them ride their bikes and jump from the swings and attempt cartwheels. I finally made it home around six Saturday night and felt better than I have in a long time. Emotionally, anyway. Physically I was--and am still--exhausted.
Sunday I surprised the folks by attending their church. Partly to surprise them but partly because I can't afford the gas for another trip to town for a little bit. I got to see my granny and great-aunt. Then I hurried home and fixed the folks and myself a decadent dessert to go with the lunch Mama prepared. And we ate and talked and watched The Dukes of Hazzard and laughed at the dogs and napped. It was a nice Sunday afternoon. Much better than last Sunday.
As much as last week hurt, I am committed now, more than ever, to celebrate my relationships with the people who love me. And loving someone IS a commitment. And of course I am not just speaking of romantic love. I'm speaking of ALL love. Loving your friends and family--even loving your pets--requires commitment and dedication. It requires effort. Paw-Paw couldn't be bothered to make that effort with us. Perhaps we simply weren't worth it. Or perhaps he never had an example held up in front of him to show him how necessary that commitment and work is. But I, unlike him, have been blessed with people who DO set that example every day.
It's been said before by others, and likely more poetically but it bears repeating: Love is a choice. Waking up every day we are faced with that choice. And once you choose to love someone it is up to YOU to live up to that choice. I hope I always choose love. And I hope you do, too.
I'm really happy with the way I've evolved in my feelings about Valentine's Day. I went from hating it to barely tolerating it to claiming it now to now just a tad bit of indifference toward the whole romantic notion part of it. I've reimagined my thinking and instead of bemoaning a romance-less existence, I see it as an opportunity to lavish my loved ones. I made cake batter truffles for the kids, my parents and Granny. I soaked cherries in rum before dipping them in chocolate for Daddy. I baked heart shaped cookies for a co-worker, her niece and sister. I baked blueberry scones for E and A. I bought myself a big box of chocolates and cooked myself a steak (it was marked down) with potatoes and sautéed mushrooms.
I also worked for three hours on Saturday. I signed up to work it because a) Unlike the rest of my work family, I don't have a significant other and b) I wanted to get those hours out of the way. Ended up being the best decision I could have made. Sis2 met me for lunch and we sat in the deli and talked for three hours. We talked about Paw-paw and how we felt and don't feel. Turns out she shares a lot of the same feelings I do but maybe a deeper hurt because she was once a lot closer to him than I ever was. But we talked about happy things, too. We talked about the kids, our parents, and television. Just one of those good long meandering sister talks.
I followed her home to take the kids their goodies and I got some delicious hugs and kisses. And I got to watch them ride their bikes and jump from the swings and attempt cartwheels. I finally made it home around six Saturday night and felt better than I have in a long time. Emotionally, anyway. Physically I was--and am still--exhausted.
Sunday I surprised the folks by attending their church. Partly to surprise them but partly because I can't afford the gas for another trip to town for a little bit. I got to see my granny and great-aunt. Then I hurried home and fixed the folks and myself a decadent dessert to go with the lunch Mama prepared. And we ate and talked and watched The Dukes of Hazzard and laughed at the dogs and napped. It was a nice Sunday afternoon. Much better than last Sunday.
As much as last week hurt, I am committed now, more than ever, to celebrate my relationships with the people who love me. And loving someone IS a commitment. And of course I am not just speaking of romantic love. I'm speaking of ALL love. Loving your friends and family--even loving your pets--requires commitment and dedication. It requires effort. Paw-Paw couldn't be bothered to make that effort with us. Perhaps we simply weren't worth it. Or perhaps he never had an example held up in front of him to show him how necessary that commitment and work is. But I, unlike him, have been blessed with people who DO set that example every day.
It's been said before by others, and likely more poetically but it bears repeating: Love is a choice. Waking up every day we are faced with that choice. And once you choose to love someone it is up to YOU to live up to that choice. I hope I always choose love. And I hope you do, too.
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