Category Archives: family

Celebrating 60: Lessons Learned and Moving Forward

This should’ve been a blog post first.

I turned 60 yesterday, and as I do every year, I found it a good occasion to post something on social media about turning a new age and thank my wonderful friends and family for all of their well wishes. But this one turned into what really should have been a blog post! So, since it is my own blog and I can make my own rules — better late than never, and now not so original… Here it is and I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you for all the wonderful birthday messages that came in every way imaginable, phone calls, and gifts. When I tell you that they were uplifting, I want you to know that it wasn’t just for the sake of this post. Truly, you all made me feel so special and cared about. Some of you had me in stitches and others had me in tears.

My birthday hasn’t been the same since my grandmother passed away several years ago. Our birthdays are a day apart and it was always a fun thing. I don’t know why after this many years it still feels off, but it does. One day, I know that I will be able to see and feel it differently. For now, it just is what it is.

Another thing that occurred to me… When I turned 30, 40, and 50, I remember thinking and saying that it would be great if I got another 30, 40, and 50. But this year turning 60, well… that was a different kind of feeling. But you all definitely helped make it feel really special!

I usually write something out right before or right after a birthday, and especially when I am lucky enough to begin a new decade, such as 60. I believe I even stated that I was going to do 60 quotes in 60 days. I did them, but I am not going to share a lot of them. Some of them were too personal, and some were just too angry and hurt. What a lot of people do at New Year’s is what I do at my birthdays. I take stock and inventory, lay out what I think are some great ideas for the coming year, and feel like I can allow myself a fresh start. I usually blow over New Year’s because there’s too much candy. 😂😂😂 So this year I’m just going to be ok with where I am, still in the inquiry of where I’m standing and what I’m supposed to do next.

In addition to leaving my job and my church, I emotionally released more family, announced to some others that I would no longer tolerate certain behaviors, purposely chose to step off of other committees that I was on to allow myself breathing room, and felt that with such a heavy heart I was not giving the love and attention that those really deserved… AND the love and attention I deserved as well.

Fifty-nine was a really hard year and felt extra long. With that said, I don’t know that I would change much if I could go back. (Well, perhaps I WOULD wish to change the five friends passing away.) My health has not been the best, and that has been a struggle for a very long time, but this past year has seemed extra hard. I don’t even know what else to say about this except that I am looking forward to getting into a few studies. Crossing fingers and praying for the desired outcome here.

Sometimes we have to do things for our own well-being and it just feels so hard. So we drag our feet. I think it’s the part that makes us put off self-care — in the many ways that self-care can manifest. We don’t want to leave; we don’t want to upset people; we don’t want to lose a routine; we’re afraid we’ll miss out; we’re afraid we won’t be part of a community we are accustomed to, etc. I’m sure some of you have been there and can even add on to that. But sometimes, some things are so loudly ringing in your head and heart that something is wrong, that eventually you can’t ignore any longer what you see and hear so plainly. It’s hard when other people don’t see, don’t want to see it, or pretend not to see it. You’re seeing Mothra destroying a community and can’t understand why all they can see is a bluebird flitting about whistling a sweet tune.

I’m sure now that I have resolved to turn the page on that year, more will be revealed to me in my patience and prayer. I can say that I’ve learned a few things about myself, some worthy of repeating and others that probably need a good buffing and shine.

Times like this, as a saying goes, will show you who your friends are, and who you can count on. It will show you the ones who make your choices something personal for them instead of checking to make sure that you are okay. That sounds like a dagger, I know. It’s not. I’ve done the same thing. Sometimes choices for ourselves at first feel like a lose-lose, and some will make your personal choices mean something about them. But all will be revealed in time, usually after some fallout has made a clearing.

Some people will make light of your situations, having not been in shoes like yours, or as a way to assuage their own consciences. Forgive them. Not everyone has the strength or maybe the clarity. They either can’t know or they simply have a different agenda. And that has to be okay. Different shoes, different shoes….

Stepping away from things that are unhealthy, be it habits, food, people, relationships, communities, family, etc., is like moving to a new neighborhood, only it’s in your mind, which is worse: Where are my people? Who are these people? I don’t know where to find anything. Why is nothing where I left it? I wish I knew the secret back ways out of here. Why did I accidentally drive here by habit? I need to pay attention. This is stupid. Seriously, did God see that shit? Is God still here? I’m hungry. I’m lonely. I miss my friends. I miss cupcakes. I hate kale. I’m sick to death of oatmeal! I hate meeting new people. I’m not even sure what I know now or what I ever knew. Maybe I should go back. I don’t want to walk in there alone. Nope, I’m going to walk in like I own the place. Why do my legs feel so stiff? Why is everyone around me acting like everything’s okay?  I don’t want to get out of bed. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I can’t stop thinking. Where do I belong? Oh, so this is depression?? This is some bullshit.

And it is… all of it is bullshit. Your real friends are right where you left them; in fact, I’ll bet you find new friends in the ones that were already there. But you have to make the effort. Some will happen organically, and others you will have to put forth more effort. You will lose some. It’s just the way it is. Don’t fight it. Just walk away with your feelings and let them have theirs. Some people will walk with you, some will stay anchored where they are, and others will walk a completely different direction. Sometimes, there’s really nothing to say, and probably shouldn’t be changed anyway.

Release family that is toxic. Family really isn’t “everything” when they are toxic. There is absolutely not one single reason to keep someone around who treats you poorly and is hurtful. ZERO. I recall a time several years ago where I wrote out some of my feelings. They were from my heart and well thought out. A family member lashed out at me for them, saying something along the lines of she was “sorry” she couldn’t write as eloquent as me and then went on to heavily insult me with barbs that had nothing to do with my post. This is an example of things that shouldn’t be tolerated, and also an example of how sometimes when you show up authentically, your light will hurt other people’s eyes who live in the dark instead of the truth of who they are and can be. Their insults and lashing out are an attempt to squash you and make you feel wrong for being so free. Do not let them!

God is still here. You were probably looking outside of yourself forgetting that God is in you and everywhere. Sometimes we think God isn’t giving us a sign, but what’s really going on is that we aren’t playing an active role in what we talked to God about. God is like, “Well, here we are walking together once again and you are doing nothing besides talking to me and walking in the same direction you were when we began this conversation.”

So for all appearances, I haven’t budged much from a year ago, and it may seem like I have not figured much out but for a few platitudinal instances. But just like an iceberg, more is underneath. I am one step away from where I was. The view is changing. More things are revealed as time moves on. I have no doubts that choices I made were mostly correct. The sting has lessened. The spinning will stop and I will find my steady feet again and be off in a direction that (wait for it)…

… looks more like love than expectation.
And dammit, isn’t that just the whole point? 💣🤯

Thanks for coming to my DEB Talk that probably should have been a blog post. 😂🤷🏻‍♀️ Thank you again for remembering me on my birthday, thank you to those who have always stood by me even when I’m difficult (Yes, I know I can be.), and thank you for the true love and kindness. Cheers to the last 59, and cruising from 60 and beyond!

If you are so inclined to reading scriptures, Luke chapter 8 has been really helpful, with an emphasis on verse 17: For nothing is hidden that will not be disclosed, nor is anything secret that will not become known and come to light.

AI generated photo from my prompt: STARS IN MY HAND

When I Lose Someone

I was thinking about someone dear that passed away recently. I found myself gravitating to his Facebook page, and there were many comments about how we have “lost” him. Later, I was looking at gifts for someone, and a particular item could be given as a gift of remembrance of someone special who had passed away. The reviews were typically, “When we lost our brother…,” and “When I lost my husband…,” or “My neighbor lost her dog last week…,” which really could have been confusing in another context about what really happened.

Saying “I lost ___________,” when referring to someone who died always seemed peculiar to me, though I totally get how it’s more comfortable than saying “died” or “dead.” It just seems less final than the latter. Even when we are afraid someone might perish in the future, we sometimes say, “If I lose you…,” or “The thought of losing you….” “Lost” feels less permanent, a little less real, and lands a bit softer, too.

For me “lost” always sounded in my brain like, “I disappeared my grandmother,” like an action item carried out by me, vs. descriptive about the person who is now gone and where they might have last been seen or been placed. It’s a hard one for me to say because that’s what I hear when I say it, and I know I didn’t actually misplace someone, or have anything to do with where they went. But of course I use the phrase out of respect for others’ ears and hearts.

Personally, I take little solace in someone going to Heaven and still being labeled as “lost.” If there is really a literal place that is Heaven, then they most certainly are not lost, and are definitely, literally in a better place. And if there is no literal Heaven, they’re just gone, not lost. Hopefully they are not wandering around looking for a gas station where they can ask for directions or trying to get better service to view an online map. I picture a man walking in circles, refusing to ask for directions, and ending up back on Earth in another dimension. (Welcome to my brain.)

I have to agree that when someone we love dies, it sure does feel like a loss, a void, having something ripped away without our consent. I think if I were to say it exactly how it feels for me, it would be more like, “I feel lost without ___________.” The loss is definitely more on my end rather than the person or pet who died having gone somewhere where we now can’t find them, or forgot where we last left them.

When someone dies and I say that I lost them, it sounds like there is hope that I will find them again, recover the relationship somehow at some point. Some philosophies say that I might, but even with that I am not guaranteed. What this all means to me, really-really, is that I am in fact the one who feels lost. I am the one who is now wandering through the valley of grief and uncertainty, juggling life between the facts, the must-do’s of day to day life, and calling it whatever it needs to be called in order to tolerate it and accept the void of a missing piece never to be returned to where I think it belongs, to where I want them the most.

But I Love ALL People

I often wonder if we truly came to realize how much our apathy, our overt and covert racism, homophobia, genderism (or pick an ism/phobia) hurts us on a personal level — would we finally do something about it? If we found out it was making us sick, if we felt it in our own lives, on our own bodies, in our own homes, in our own minds, would we finally be compelled to do something? Or would we still just be stuck on “right” to save face and suffer silently, or blame it on “them?” I think we put a lot of energy into saving face, and a lot of running from the truth… or even mangling it, covering it up. We think, “I’m not the one; surely it’s not me,” and even get mad when confronted.

We put a LOT of energy into this, and yet we think we remain unaffected by the covering up, the pretending, the avoidance to look at ourselves squarely and honestly. We put on a mask when we go about our daily business outside of the home, but when we return the mask is put away and we discuss all about “those people,” and we have strong opinions on people we can’t even see honestly. We pretend (or do we really believe this) that if we don’t talk about it, refuse to give it attention, that we somehow are not contributing to the racism, the homophobia, Islamic hatred, etc. We tell ourselves and others that we just won’t participate in the discussions because that would be contributing to the problem. But…

WHEN HAS IGNORING SOMETHING EVER MADE IT BETTER?

If you let it, this might set you free from the invisible box you have created for yourself and probably the children you might be influencing…. Do you know that you don’t even have to understand how or why people are who they are to just let them live, and even to love them? And here’s the REAL personal freedom…. Once you are able to embrace that, it’s no effort to embrace them just as they are. That’s where love lives, and that’s what it looks like.

We like to say that we love all people, don’t we? It sounds right, and feels good to say — even seems logical. For added theatrics or emphasis, we even wave our hand when we say it as if we’re brushing off how ridiculous it is to even have to say it out loud.

  • You have a good relationship with your Black neighbor, and your kids even play together.
    • But do you love Black PEOPLE?
  • That Muslim woman in the next cubicle is hilarious, and you frequently lunch together.
    • But do you love Muslim PEOPLE?
  • The Mexican woman who babysits your children during the past four summers is a wonderful addition to your lives and with whom you entrust your children. She even teaches them Spanish!
    • But do you love Mexican PEOPLE?
  • You’re nice to Emily, the transgender checker at the grocery store that you look forward to seeing every week.
    • But do you love transgender PEOPLE?
  • Your love your cousin who is gay and you get along great with him and his husband.
    • But do you love gay PEOPLE?

I’m sure you’re onto me by now, and may have already begun making excuses before you reached the end of the list or stopped reading the list altogether. Hopefully none of that’s true and you get the point. But if it is true, I hope you ask yourself why that is, and I hope you go even further and begin really thinking about this. One thing that can happen is that you will start showing up as the person you’ve been saying you are. You remember — the one that loves all people!

I get it. (I don’t, actually, but I do know something about this personally.) You’re secretly afraid of what other people in your circles might think. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s true. You’re afraid of what you will lose, and this is a driving force for so many of us that causes us sometimes to double down on the excuses, and why so many of us turn to apathy, ignoring, or defending all the “good people on both sides.” We are more afraid of how we might look, what we might lose, or even who we might have to talk to in a new way.

Freedom. That’s what you get. You get freedom from the excuses, freedom from toxic ideas and people. You get new vision, and you get to do the work of self-repair, self-reflection, and self-love instead of the arduous work of covering up, the laziness of apathy and tolerating, and the sweat-work of defending terrible people, systems and ideations. You get freedom from the pain of giving and being an assist to systems that hurt other people. You will lose some; you will. And then you will be free from people who won’t operate on a higher level of humanity.

Operating from this is also work, but it isn’t the kind that hurts us on a soul level or the level of hurting humanity. In fact, it’s actually restorative on a cellular level. And the best part of all… you will be on your way to telling the truth when you say, “I LOVE ALL PEOPLE.”

Together. Apart.

Impressions

Walking & Thinking #8

What’s in a name?
That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.
Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare

So, what IS in a name?

Some people don’t like their own given name, and sometimes we don’t like someone else’s name. Sometimes we are in wonderment at how someone might have arrived at a particular name, or notice that a name has a funny ring to it, or sounds like it might be from another language than our own, etc.  I remember disliking my name when I was young. I much preferred nicknames to my own given name when I was a teenager. That changed as I grew into an adult, but not necessarily for the reasons this post is about… until now.

Our family has another grandbaby on the way — our third. So it’s an exciting time! I was teasing the kids about naming the baby after me — even if it was a boy — or combining mine and mother’s names — DeboRosa. Yeah, I know how it sounds. My former husband says it sounds too much like “ambrosia,” which I still feel qualifies it for the possibility list. (I’m seriously just kidding.)

When I was out for my walk the other day, I was chuckling to myself about that conversation. Then I started thinking about our children’s names. All three boys are named after beloved family members who are not only loved, but strong in character. The lone girl’s name was chosen because it sounded pretty (and it is — almost as pretty as her). Our first granddaughter is named the same way, and our first grandson is named after his father and has a middle name with a very special meaning in Spanish. Anyway, that’s the context for this post.

As I and my thoughts meandered around the neighborhood, it occurred to me just how much I love our kids’ names, and how much they mean to me. I started thinking about the things I mentioned above about my own name, about times when I couldn’t imagine why someone would name a child “that,” or when I heard someone making fun of a name because it sounded “foreign.” I know people who have changed their names because they didn’t like them, and others because the name they were given at birth did not match their gender identity. I know some who have changed their names because they wanted a more American-sounding name. (That makes me sad for a few reasons.) I also recalled some people whose names make me personally feel a particular way — upset, angry, sad, fearful, anxious. And there are still others when I hear them, I feel joy, love, warmth, happiness. But I couldn’t recall ever hearing a parent say that they regretted giving a particular name to their child/ren.

I worked in various positions in healthcare, primarily women’s health for many years. Names were important, and spellings of those names were extremely important. I used to keep a list in my drawer of the peculiar or unusual ones. Some seemed thoughtful, but others still have me scratching my head to this day. Nonetheless, someone cared about those names enough and whatever was behind them to dole them out to a most precious gift.

How do people respond to your name? How do they feel when they hear it? How do you feel about your own name? How will you hear names after this?

When your parent/s gave you your name, it sounded like love in their soul, like music to their ears, a song etched in their heart, or a sweet memory worthy of sharing. It meant something to the person that thoughtfully gave you your name, and they heard something in it, knew someting about it no one else could hear, see, or feel quite the same.

My name 🙂

The Thing About Suffering…

When you set out to cause suffering in another, you double your own and invite more of it. You cannot escape the suffering you put on others until you give up the practice of causing it, and give up your addiction to that savage, satiating feeling you think fixes you when you cause it.

This manufacturing of suffering is a vicious cycle for all involved. Life brings suffering at times on its own, this is a fact. But the manufacturing of it is something else. It’s abuse, for one thing, and manipulation. But more than that, it’s a whole cycle. The one inflicting the suffering circumstances (manipulator, abuser) is already suffering. What a horrid way to go through life — perpetrating hurt and pain on others. I’ve heard victims say that they don’t understand how the abuser lives such a good life, or gets away with their behavior. I can see how it appears that way, but I think this is mostly false.

Once the cycle starts, the target will find ways to avoid the circumstances and abusers will double-down on their victims, but the suffering continues to return to the manipulator and multiplies by a factor of their own and the person/s they’re hurting. One’s own suffering can’t actually be cured or satiated by inflicting more suffering. And if you’re the abuser, frankly, you give up your right to be angry at the change in people caused by your endless refusal or inability to be decent, or their willingness to go to great lengths to stay out of your line of fire. That’s part of the price you pay. So… more suffering.

Walking & Thinking #7

‘Tis the season to be… whatever YOU make it. Let your heart be the biggest, brightest thing in the room!

Happy, merry all of it.

Aunties, Uncles, Safe Harbor

It’s just the way I grew up, and I thought everybody had this, and I still think everybody should. Be good to your people. It’s just a thought for the holidays.

Growing up, my aunties and uncles were safe harbor.
Sometimes kids need a safe harbor that isn’t a parent.
Everyone benefits.

Happy all of it from my home to yours.