Hi. A dear friend of ours past away two years ago. He was a great guy. The life of the party. His huge grin and loud voice permeated the room. You could not help but listen to his stories. He always had a sparkle in his eyes and his laugh was infectious. He chose a beautiful spot to be buried. The grass is green and manicured and there is a marble bench that you can sit on and reflect. I know this might sound grim and morbid but, we go there each year to honor Stu's life and reminisce. The cemetary is surrounded by mountains and you can hear birds churping..a lovely change from surburban Los Angeles vibe. This year we all brought (about 30 plus people) our own picnic lunch and blankets and we sat around and talked and laughed and told Stu stories. I loved it. Stu would have loved it. He liked nothing better than hanging with family, friends and schooming. My friend Julie got up and spoke a few words about her loss and how she has bugun to grow and change since her Stu is gone. I don't remember all of it but one tidbit stuck with me. I can't seem to shake it from my psyche: " It's not what you say..its not what you always do...it's how you make people feel."
Hmmmmmm. That resognated with me big time. I don't always like my sharp tongue. It can be hurtful. I need to remind myself daily to try to be kind. Sometimes I am and sometimes I am not. Usually my family gets the brunt of my moods. Why do we hurt the ones we love and cherish the most? Is it safe? Yes. It it right? No.
I want to leave this earth with knowing that I was the best Wolffie that I could have been. Talking about it is useless....living those words means more. How do I make people feel? How did I make people feel? What I do know is that I have the ability to look at myself and take stalk of my assets and flaws and try to change what I need to. It's not always easy...but it is rewarding. So ....now that I have heard these words and put them in my heart..I have to deal. I have to be kinder and softer to my ever so annoying and self centered teenage boys. (and The Hubby and daughter too!!) The boys are right where they are supposed to be. I have to buck up and be the mature mommy (and wifey). I have to bite my lip, take many deep breaths and try to ignore the looks and the tone that they give me. The little girl in me is screaming, "Do I have to? Why can't they appreciate ME!?!" Deep down in their hearts I know they do. Sometimes I do get the look of love, the quick hug and even a I love you. That's what my focus should be. Right?!?
Why listen to Wolffie? Because I get it. I used to HATE when my mom started a sentence with: "How many times do I have to ask you to.....(fill in your own blank). It really ANNOYED me to no end. I would tune her out at how many!!! Fast forward to my life as a mom of four. This statement comes out of my mouth at least 100 times a day. I might be exaggeratng a bit, but it feels like that's all I ever say. "How many times do I have to tell you to: put away your dishes, pick your clothes up from the floor and put them in the hamper, don't turn on the stupid Call of Duty( this game makes my ass tight!!!) until your homework is done, do the dishes...I could go on but I am exhausted thinking about it. I have turned into my naggin mom!! Don't get me wrong...I LOVE MY MOM. She is my best friend. I just didn't love that drill sergeant part of her. What I didn't understand then that I do now is...she wanted help. Who doesn't? I know for me...I need a bit of order. If it were up to my kids our house would be a complete mess. Piles of crap everywhere, not a bed made, not a article of clothing washed and they would be on the computer or playing video games for hours on end. Oh that world gives me the heebie jebbies. So..I have to be it.... a nagger. The only saving grace is that I am not alone. My friends share their plights, and I have even heard them say the dreaded how many times do I....many a time. In a sick way, I feel relief. Is that so wrong?!?!?!
Can you relate? More will be revealed.
Signing off until we meet again. Please come back for more.
In Love and Peace,
Wolffie
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