Don't Bury Me; Keep Me Alive

Last week was a rather busy week for my family and I. Amidst packing, looking for new schools, etc., I was very apprehensive. It was the week of remembrance for two close friends. It was two years since one friend’s brother passed and five years since the other’s father passed. When I say apprehensive, I mean it. I’m one of those diarrhea of the mouth type of people, so in such instances, I either put my foot in my mouth or become a ghost.

I know I asked one of them how best to approach it the week before. Do I call? Is texting better? Should I just let the day come and go? I mean, I was a mess. I didn’t want my friends to think I didn’t care, but I also didn’t want to be “that” person who only brings up the family member once a year, as if it’s the least I can do. Personally, I would want to talk about the person all the time, to keep their memory alive, but because not everyone is me, I walk on egg shells and tend to make big messes. I want to get things right when it comes to such touchy subjects or situations, but most of the time, I just end up overthinking it then doing absolutely nothing, and hope my friend doesn’t notice.

So this week, I’ve been thinking a lot about how we often don’t get to say what people mean to us until they’re gone. Why do we wait until the person can no longer give us a hug or say, “Thank you; that meant a lot” to say how we really feel? Is it because we’re concerned that it’s never the right time (birthday/anniversary)? I don’t know. I think it sucks though.

I’ve met a lot of people in my lifetime and made a lot of good friends along the way. From time-to-time, I try to send cards expressing how I feel about the individual and how they’ve impacted my life. I don’t know about you, but realizing how much has been left unsaid after a person passes saddens me more than their actual passing. Weird? Maybe, but that’s just how I’m wired. I hate funerals for that very reason. As the person lays there, or in their absence, beautiful memories are brought to life. They are so vivid and often bring a smile across our faces before we return to bawling. I’m not quite sure why, but I absolutely dread those moments.

 I’m always mad at funerals, especially if I knew the person, or he/she meant something to me. I end up mentally kicking myself. For instance,  I would like to have told my uncle (maternal) that  he was my favorite and that I always looked forward to his smile. I would have liked to tell my cousin (maternal) that despite being so young, she was like my best friend, and her words always touched me deeply.

As much as I’m not into mush, I like to let people I care about know it. Whether it’s an occasional text here and there (since I’m not one for phone calls), or a random PM, e-mail, or card, I think it’s important. I don’t think anyone should go too long without knowing someone cares for or is at least thinking about them. I think everyone is entitled to a little YOUlogy. Let them know what you think of them, or their presence in your life. Talk them up a little; make them feel good about themselves. No flattery! Don’t blow breeze up their behinds or anything; be genuine. Share your favorite memory with them. Remind them of the first day you noticed them or how you met. Indulge the person with their favorite treat, to show them that you listen or pay attention.

I may have a strange way about me, but I have some pretty strong beliefs. While I’m alive, let me know how I’ve pissed you off, so we can talk it over and make up. While I’m alive, let’s grab some lunch or dinner and laugh at how lame we used to be and still are. While I’m alive, forget the movies, let’s talk. While I’m alive, take jabs at me, and I’ll take some at you. (I do that with those I love; that’s how they know I love them.) Then, if it’s God’s will and I go before you, at least I know where you and I stood: no words unspoken, no moments unlived. Talk about me…every day, if you can. Don’t bury me in the crevice of your memory; keep me alive. 

Call Your Parents

What is going on? I’m not sure, but I’m kind of sad. Two friends have lost loved ones in less than two weeks. One lost her only child, her 24-year-old son, in the middle of the night.  She was his sole caretaker, being that he was born with Cornelia de Lange Syndrome (CdLS), a congenital syndrome. How she loved her little treasure. She loved him with all she had and still does.  She fought for laws to be changed in order for special children like him to enjoy and experience things that we often take for granted. She took him bowling. He graduated high school and won several awards. While some saw a cute young man with beautiful lashes who didn’t speak and had different physical characteristics than we are accustomed to, she treated him with the respect and love he deserved and didn’t limit him or underestimate his abilities.

A few days after attending his Celebration of Life, I just found that a friend lost her dad, just weeks before her wedding. I don’t know what she must be going through, and I’m not even the best person to say that I do. My heart hurts for her though. How do you move on from that? Apparently, it was unexpected; a heart attack took him away from her family much too soon.  

I’m not sure how people go through life once they lose a sibling, parent, or child, but they must have a strength that helps them get through it. Whether expected or unexpected, the loss of a life can’t be easy.

I become a clam at times like this, because I tend to be at a loss for words. I don’t know what to say that will sufficiently express how I feel. I feel if I say too much, I may put my foot in my mouth and come off as insensitive, but I’m always concerned that my silence may be interpreted as me not caring.

To those who still have the chance, we need to hold our loved ones tighter. We need to tell them we love them more often. While they are still around, we need to make the time to spend with them. We take so much for granted, and we assume we’ll always have one another, but it’s not guaranteed.  J.K. Simmons said it so well, in terms of appreciating our parents. Call them.

I'm Not Scared

Okay, so this week, I faced two discomforts of mine head on. I wouldn’t call them fears because I think they were really just due to concerns and others’ comments.

So, anyone who knows me and knows me well is well aware of my great dislike for animals. I don’t enjoy zoos or like any type of pet. I cannot eat in the same room with an animal of any kind. If I am aware that a person owns one, I have difficulty eating in their home. The thought that an animal’s lingering hair could await me in the bite of my burger or that I may go home with animal hair on me just freaks me out. I’m not talking, “Oh, with a good shower, I’m good” or “I’ll just sit there and leave after a little bit”. I really truly try not to go anywhere with pets.

My husband has seen me leap over a friend’s furniture, leap on top of someone’s truck in a parking lot, topple over a table, in order to get away from dogs. Having been chased by dogs that supposedly don’t chase people unless they are apprehended, I don’t trust any dogs, not even Chihuahuas. When I’m around, they have one goal in mind, and that is to attack.

Let’s not start with felines. The looks cats give freak me out. I just know they are out to get me, despite how much their owners try to convince me that “he/she’s scared around people”. For some reason, when I come around, these scaredy cats are never scared around me…go figure, right?

I’ll be truthful. I have had a meal in a particular home where I knew there was a pet lurking. However, the dog, as big as he was, preferred a corner and did not roam freely, due to his age. I, unbeknownst to his owners, watched as they washed their hands before preparing meals. I ensured I did not sit by his resting area, and I definitely did not eat within sight of the friendly canine. Something about it all gives me the heebie jeebies.

This week, however, in order to put me at ease as a visitor, a couple put their dog away and ended up getting into some high dosage pills. To see the panic in owners’ eyes, the lengths they were willing to go in order to ensure the dog was okay puzzled me. It’s exactly how I reacted the day I accidentally gave my son too much medicine, measuring in the wrong unit. To see how they loved on that dog they had rescued from the pound, possibly days from euthanization, really got to me. Apparently, that dog was like family to them. I don’t get it, and I never will. The thing is as much as I dislike animals, I felt horrible. If not for my dislike for pets, that dog could have died, and that would have crushed its owners.

When the dog returned, I didn’t recoil, neither did I slide right over toward my husband. I think my daughter, who is very much afraid of dogs noticed. She loosened up quite a bit and even pet the dog. She was curious about the state of the dog’s health. I didn’t realize how much my reaction to dogs had negatively affected her. Although I did not and have no intention to pet a dog or any other animal, I realized I could potentially co-exist with a calm pet. Victory #1.

Well, that occurred in Mexico. Anyone who I have spoken to in the last week or two knows how much I fought my husband on the issue of going to Mexico. I was dead set on staying behind so that I could be safe and not be pulled over or disturbed by members of the cartel. I was sure that Mexico = uncertainty and danger. Why would I go there and endanger myself and my family? All the water is tainted and unsafe to drink. Anyone in their right mind had no reason going there, especially since so many Mexican citizens are risking their lives and going through the desert to get to the United States. It must be pretty bad there, or at least that’s what I thought until I went there myself.

Rocky Point…it was beautiful, so serene. Its tranquility took my breath away.  I have never slept better or felt as rested as when I was there. Although there wasn’t much to do, other than gaze at the ocean and watch it do its thing, I enjoyed every moment. How could a place that people consider so dangerous contain such a peaceful, hidden sanctuary? Oh, I’d so go back…Victory#2

These two personal victories have made me realize that there are other issues I have not fully faced, and I am determined to challenge myself in order to stretch myself. There’s always room to grow, be better, learn new things. None of us is here on Earth as a finished product. Dig deep…what is something you find challenging, that you’re afraid of, or simply have not been able to overcome?  Look it straight in the face and work your way towards a victory. Even the smallest step makes a difference. Every step in the right direction is a step toward success.