Oh To Be Liked

When you stop living your life based on what others think of you real life begins. At that moment, you will finally see the door of self acceptance opened.
~Shannon L. Alder~

When I was young, I used to believe that no one really liked me because, well, frankly, I wasn't worthy. I was shy, introverted and tried desperately to please everyone.  I believed that if I could please people then they would have to like me.

I wouldn't dare disagree with anyone because they might not like me if I did.  I waited to form my opinions based on what others thought and then would make myself take the same opinions.  I wasn't good enough as myself so I had to copy those who I perceived to be good enough.  I'm not sure I know even now what it was that I thought I wasn't 'good enough' for.

I remember thinking "I can't believe I'm doing this - this is what the cool people do" when I got my ears pierced, when I got contacts and when I got a driver's license (at age 30, no less!).  That's how low my self esteem was way back then.  In my mind, I could hear people saying "oh she thinks she's so cool with those earrings" or 'she thinks she looks good without glasses".

It has taken a lifetime but I've learned that you can't make anyone like you no matter how hard you try to change yourself into what you think others expect you to be.  Not only that, but I also learned that if I can't like myself then it doesn't matter if anyone else likes me or not.  You know what else I learned?  I learned that learning that lesson was the most liberating experience I had ever had.

When I was first married, my husband would deliberately pick fights with me about the stupidest things.  My reaction was to shut up and let him win every argument.  But he was relentless.  He would goad me until I would finally get to the point that I would argue back. Once that became second nature for me, he confessed that he started those arguments so I would learn to fight back.

Fighting back with him was one thing.  Fighting back with others was something else entirely.  I remember the first time that I actually argued back with a stranger.  It was because she was a threat to our oldest son.  The next time was about our youngest son.  Learning that I could stick up for my children planted the seed in me that I could live just fine without caring what someone else thought about me.

My husband's next 'project' was to teach me to stand up for myself.  That was harder because standing up for myself meant that I had to believe I was worthy and I wasn't quite there yet.  Still, I had stood up for my babies so I knew I had the ability.  I give my husband all the credit in the world for helping me become the person I am today because without him, I would probably still be cowering in a corner waiting for people to like me.

This road to self-acceptance and self-love has been long, hard and filled with detours but I've reached a point in my life where I know I'm good enough and worthy to be liked - even loved.  I've learned that not everyone has to like me because, frankly, I don't like everyone.  Really, who does?

I have learned - through the love of my family and some pretty awesome friends - that I'm a pretty good person, worthy to be liked - even loved.  I've learned that's it's okay to make mistakes and that making them does not diminish my worthiness.  Knowing that has enabled me to deem others worthy to be liked.

Learning that I'm worthy has led me to the best lesson that I've learned - life is good and I am happy.  It only took a lifetime.

What a difference a day makes!

Black Friday, because only in America do people trample each other for cheap goods hours after being thankful for what they already have.
~Unknown~

Isn't that quote just the truth!  A mere 24 hours ago, we were all about being thankful for what we have.  Today, that's all but forgotten. Today, it's about finding the biggest and best thing we can't afford to give to people we probably don't give much thought to throughout the year on a day that seems to have lost its meaning for most people.

Why do we do this?  My first guess would be that it's based on selfishness and a poor sense of self-worth.  Huh? Giving to others is selfish? Poor self-worth?  I'm kidding, right?  Nope.  How many people - and we all know them - buy gifts for others just because they think it's expected or because they think it makes them look good?  Have you ever heard someone say, while shopping, "oh this is good enough"?  Lord knows, I have.  And, of course, there's the mentality that if someone gives to us, then we have to give equal or better to them - right? Oh, so WRONG!

My second guess - and it really goes hand in hand with the first - is that society has dictated that we make our Christmas big - big gifts, big parties, big decorations, big food, big debt.  It's more than 'keeping up with the Joneses'.  It's about OUTDOING the Joneses.

A few years ago, my family stopped exchanging gifts on Christmas.  I really thought I'd be disappointed the first year there was nothing under the tree except was was bought for children.  To my pleasant surprise, it was one of the best Christmases ever.  There was no stress, no debt and a true sense of what's important. Not only that, but when it stops being about getting things - and they really are just things - there's virtually no disappointment that you didn't get everything you wanted as well as the most or the best.

The following year, I started a new tradition - one I wish I'd done when my sons were little.  I made a special cake and decorated it for Jesus' birthday.  Before cutting the cake, I gathered everyone around and we all sang Happy Birthday to Jesus.  It was a simple gesture but one that reminded us all of what the day is REALLY about.  It's only been 3 or 4 years that I've been doing that but it seems to be expected that I'll do it now.  I love that!

I was out shopping a couple of weeks ago and saw something that I thought my husband would like.  I remember this conversation in my head: "I'll wait and give it to him for Christmas.  No, we don't do gifts so why wait?"  It's such a liberating feeling to give presents when you WANT to - not when you HAVE to.  I have a new - renewed? - appreciation for Christmas now.  My wish is that everyone would quit being greedy and selfish and discover their own appreciation.

Oh yeah - I'm still thankful today for everything I was thankful for yesterday.  Are you?

Giving Thanks

Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.
~Oscar Wilde~

This is the time of the year when we're supposed to give thanks for all that we have but with so many people out of work and others barely eking out a living, it's harder to find something in our lives for which to be thankful.

I don't think any of us are unaffected by the awful economy to which we are subjected.  I know I see it in my own family, my friends and even personally.  I'm hearing (and saying) "I can't afford it" a lot more often these days.

This is the worst I have ever seen it in my life.  I think about my grandparents and what it must have been like for them to have lived through the depression while raising five kids.  I have a whole new respect for them knowing what they went through.  I can't imagine having to suffer through rationing basic supplies and making meals when there's no food in the house.  I totally get it now why so many older people who lived through the depression are so tight with their money.

It's my personal belief, though, that the things for which we should be thankful are neither money nor the possessions it can buy.  We should be thankful for the good things in our lives that can never be taken from us.  We should be thankful that God, in His infinite wisdom and boundless love for us, has given us all that we really need - not what we want, but what we need.

Everyone has something for which to be thankful whether they realize it or not.  Do you have a roof over your head, a warm bed to sleep in at night and food on your table?  Do you have a family or friends who love you?  Are you reasonably healthy?

Times are tough - maybe you need to look harder for something good in your life.  Are you homeless sitting on a street corner begging for change?  Guess what?  You still have life in your body and can have hope in your heart.

God never promised us an easy ride but He did promise us that He would take care of us if we would only ask for His help and have faith in Him.

My greatest thanks go to God for His love and for giving me the ability to have faith.  I'm thankful that I am loved and have the capacity to love in return.  I'm thankful that God gave me the family and friends He did and I'm thankful that I have the ability to know what is most important in this life.  What are you thankful for?

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

“Dreams, if they're any good, are always a little bit crazy.”
~Ray Charles~

Dreams fascinate me.  They are usually out of context with real life and so disjointed in the sequence of events that, in the light of day, they make no sense and bring pause to wonder what things must be happening in our subconscious to skew things so dramatically.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when I never remembered dreaming.  I have always heard that, whether or not we remember, we dream all night long.  For some reason, I remember dreams now even if it's only part of the dream.  I've also noticed that my once infallible memory isn't quite as infallible as it used to be and I have to wonder- are my dreams taking up space previously used for reality?  Is that even possible?  Could there be a connection between memory and dreams?

And what about dreaming in color?  I've heard about a couple of studies that suggest dreaming in color occurs mostly with younger people and that, by the time we're about 60, our dreams are black and white.  I could never remember if my dreams were in color or black and white until one that I had recently in which the colors were quite vivid.  There goes that theory that dreaming in color is only for the young.

Some people believe there are supernatural connections to dreams, as well.  I'm not sure how much of that I believe but I DO believe that some dreams have a purpose or a meaning.  Those dreams, I believe, are the ones that we have the highest level of recall about.  I've had exactly four of those dreams in my lifetime.  I can remember every detail of each of those dreams and the last one - about a year ago - is the one with the vivid colors.  I'm positive of the message of only one of those dreams so far - the very first one - but believe there was a reason for each of them.  Maybe in time, I'll learn that purpose - or purposes.

As I first stated, dreams fascinate me but the ones I find the most fascinating are the ones we have over and over again - recurring dreams.  I've never had a recurring dream but used to think I'd like to - until that last, vivid dream.  That dream was so real, the feelings within it so strong, that I would rather not have that dream again.  After that dream, it occurred to me that most of the recurring dreams I've heard of are not often good dreams.

Last night I dreamed that my husband and I were visiting our granddaughter.  She was giggling and playful, clearly having missed us as much as we miss her.  There's nothing mysterious, out of context or disjointed about that dream.  I really do miss her and have had her on my mind a lot lately.  Maybe that's what all those dreams really are - a cornucopia of all the things that are swirling around in our minds coming together in the only way they can.  That or maybe they're a bunch of separate dreams that we remember as though they were one.  I guess we'll never know.

Sweet dreams.

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

"Intelligent hauntings are (when) they're trying to communicate with you, like tugging on your clothes."

~Grant Wilson~

Most of us have had them - those experiences that we can't explain or ignore.  Several of my family and friends have told me about instances where they felt the presence of or a sign from someone who had passed away.

One of my aunts told me once that she had her mother on her mind one day.  She glanced up at a photo of her parents  - my grandparents - and said to the photo "Mama, I hope you're with Daddy and you're both okay".  The next morning, her daughter got up and told her mother that she had a dream about her grandparents that night and said that Grandma told her to tell her mother that she was with Grandpa and they were fine.    My aunt was home alone when she made her comment and she didn't tell anyone about it.  A sign from her parents?  I believe so.

My cousin told me a couple of days ago - and was the inspiration for this blog - that someone pulled her hair twice when she was home alone.  She believes it's her dad letting her know he's still watching over her.  I think she might be right.

A couple of years ago, my cousin and I were doing some genealogy research in the courthouse in Virginia Beach and I was in the 'vault' - the room where they keep all the old records.  I found a record about the death of a baby and was surprised to see the parents were my 3rd great-grandparents.  This was a child I never knew about.  Right about that time, I became aware of a strong scent of roses and thought that someone in the outer office had received a nice bouquet.  A little later, my cousin came in from the outer office and suggested we get some lunch.  While at lunch, I told her about my discovery and had a thought - I'd been looking for the parents of my 3rd great-grandfather with no luck.  It occurred to me that if I looked up his brother's marriage record, I might learn who their parents were.  Once we got back to our research, I went straight for the marriage records and hit pay dirt!  There was the information I had been looking for!  About that time, I smelled the roses again.  I looked at my cousin and asked 'do you smell those roses?"  She shook her head no so I asked, 'how can you NOT smell them as strong as they are?"  She smiled and said, 'they aren't meant for me'.  Sure enough, there were no roses to be seen anywhere in the outer office.

I think, too, that those experiences are not limited to someone who died.  Once when I was working in my uncle's warehouse, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.  I was totally alone but the tap was real.  I turned around, fully expecting to see my oldest son standing there - which was strange in and of itself because he was living in another state at the time.  As you guessed, there was no one there but I couldn't get my son off my mind.  I decided to give him a call.  He was on his way home from work and I talked to him until he got home.  The next day, I was talking to my daughter-in-law - his wife - and she told me that he had a tendency to fall asleep when he was driving home from work and that she tried to talk to him on the phone so he would stay awake.  For some reason, she didn't talk to him the day before and he confirmed that he was about to fall asleep when I called him.

I don't know what anyone else may think of these experiences, but I'm not convinced that they are signs from loved ones who have passed away.  Rather, I believe they are messages from God meant to comfort us or maybe, in the case of my son, to use us as His agents to intervene when necessary.  Whatever they are, I believe they're real and that we should always take comfort from them.

A Mind Boggling Passion

"Generations pass like leaves fall from our family tree. Each season new life blossoms and grows benefiting from the strength and experience of those who went before,"
~Heidi Swapp~

Anyone who knows me for five minutes knows that one of my great passions (I have two) is genealogy.  I have no idea where my desire to know my roots originated.  Certainly, no one else in my family has the drive I do to uncover family skeletons.  Oh, they're interested in hearing about what I find but they don't care to do the research.

Maybe it was born in me.  I had an interest in my family history while still a teenager.  Or maybe it comes from not knowing my biological father until I was an adult.  I knew who he was - his name, that is - but I didn't know WHO he was - what he looked like, his life story, his personality, his interests, etc.  It's really funny, but until a newly-learned about cousin from his side of the family sent me a photo of my paternal grandparents, I'd never given them a second thought.  Dad was the only one who mattered.  I never even considered the possibility that I had paternal relatives.  But I digress.

I had a thought this morning - well, actually, I remembered something I'd read somewhere - that it's nothing short of phenomenal that everyone who's alive today has literally thousands of years of ancestors.  When you think about that in basic terms and consider the numbers of people who died without descendants, it's amazing.  Their biological lines ended.  When you consider that so many women used to die in childbirth and the high rate of infant mortality, it's a wonder any of us are here today.  The odds were certainly against our survival.  Our ancestors must have been some pretty strong people.

I used to think it would be cool if I'd find out that I'm descended from royalty but, truthfully, while that might be exciting, I think it's far more interesting to learn about the horse thieves and bank robbers.  Everybody wants to be descended from someone famous, I suppose, even that someone was less than a model citizen.  One of my ancestors was tried for treason during the Revolutionary War.  He took the side of the British and acted upon his convictions by blowing up his neighbor's ships in the harbor.

Someone once asked me how I would know when I was finished tracing my roots.  I suppose the meaning behind that question was to ascertain my goal.  My answer, meant to be funny, was "when I get back to Adam and Eve".  Truthfully, I'm finding that I reach a degree of satisfaction when I get the point that an ancestor came to America and from where.  So far, I've reached that point with a few lines but still have a few more to go.  At that point, I'm guessing that my satifaction will be short-lived and I'll need to know about my homelands...  It's a passion with no end but one that absolutely intrigues me to that same no end.

Put America First

Hell, I never vote for anybody, I always vote against.
~W.C. Fields~

W. C. Fields sure had it right, didn't he?  I can't tell you how many elections I've seen in my lifetime in which I've heard that this candidate or that candidate is the lesser of two evils.  What a sad commentary on the state of our political arena and how far we've moved away from the values of our forefathers.  They put the needs of our country first.  Today, politicians will say anything, tell any lie, manipulate any data to ensure that they are elected.  They claim to put the needs of the country first and foremost but do they really?

I know times have changed since 1776 and issues have become more complicated but shouldn't we still be able to believe that our politicians put our country's best interests ahead of their own?  Sadly, the majority of them don't - I say 'majority' because the optimist in me wants to believe that there is a politician out there somewhere who isn't out for his or her own gain.

Obviously, part of the problem is that not everyone agrees on what's best for the country.  So, why can't they (the politicians) be honest and actually TELL us what they really believe is best?  My guess is because their desire to win is greater than their desire to do good for America.  They would rather say what they think will get them the vote and then wonder why they're not as popular with the American people after they're elected.

I don't know what the answer is or how we truly know what a politician believes but I do know that we still have to vote - even if we're casting our vote for who we consider to be 'the lesser of two evils'.  I truly hope and pray that the turnout tomorrow is huge.  I don't care who you vote for - get off your duff and VOTE!  WE can put our country first even if the politicians don't.

See you at the polls!

Touching Angels

All God's angels come to us disguised.
~James Russell Lowell~

Have you ever wondered if angels really exist?  I'm here to tell you, they do - but not all of them have wings or halos.  Let me tell you my story - It's as real to me today as it was way back then.  I'll have to tell you about the events leading up to my encounter so you can hopefully understand my state of mind.  It's probably long so I apologize for that now.

It was May, 2000.  I was still working then (for the Department of Elections) and my boss sent me to Fairfax, VA to sit on a discussion panel about absentee voting.  The date coincided with National Police Week so I told my friend - who, until this point, I'd only talked to online - that I'd take the train in for one of the ceremonies and we could finally meet in person.  BEST thing I ever did! (Another story for another time)

During police week, there are three events that never change - on the 13th, there's a candlelight vigil to remember and honor police officers who gave their lives in the line of duty.  On the 14th, there's a parade of Emerald Societies and Pipe Bands (that's bagpipes for those who don't know) followed by another emotional ceremony to honor the sacrifices made by Irish law enforcement officers.  Then, on the 15th, there's a ceremony to commemorate National Peace Officer's Day which is held on the grounds of the US Capitol and at which the keynote speaker is often the President of the US.  My friend and I can usually tell when someone is attending Police Week for the first time because of the look on their face - we call it 'shell shock'.

In 2000, the Candlelight Vigil was rained out and was combined with the Emerald Society ceremony on the 14th.  The reason I mention this - and think it's important - is because it was like a double whammy of shell shock for me.  I remember feeling numb but still crying.  I don't think I realized how much I was affected by the flood of emotion that I was sure I didn't feel until days later.

After the evening's events were over and I had spent some time getting to know my friend better, we said our good nights and I went back to my hotel.  After the discussion panel the next day and a meeting in Richmond the following day, I finally made it home where I decided to visit an online forum for the spouses of police officers that I was a member of.  My intent was to write about my first police week experience.  Instead, I was smacked in the face with a post about a young officer in Doraville Georgia who was killed in the line of duty.

His name was Hugo Arango.  I'll spare you all the details of what I read.  Suffice it to say that he was shot several times.  The one part that I kept reading over and over again was that, after he was shot and lying dead on the ground, his murderer walked up to his lifeless body, placed his gun directly on Det. Arango's badge and fired another shot.  He made his point - he killed a cop.

About that time, my husband came downstairs.  He had to work the midnight shift and as he stepped off the last step and turned to face me, the light shined on his badge.  I showed him the story about Det Arango and his only comment was "oh well - occupational hazard".  Now I understand that's not how he felt but how he dealt with it in front of me, but still, it added to the emotions that were already threatening to burst from my chest.

My husband left for work and I sat home, alone, crying.  I felt helpless and a whole string of other things that I still can't describe today.

The next day, I got up and tried to get myself together to go to work.  I was an even bigger basket case of tears and emotions - and I couldn't stop thinking about my grandfather.  I had an overwhelming need to be with him.  Why he was on my mind at this time was beyond me - until I called work and told them I just could NOT make it.  I looked at the calendar.  It was May 18, 2000.  The twentieth anniversary of his death.

After I called work, I got dressed and drove to the cemetery.  I walked up to my grandparent's graves and just stood there.  I had no flowers, no purpose.  I felt lost but knew that I just needed to be there.  I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure I was crying.

Suddenly, someone walked up to me and said "I don't mean to intrude but you look like you need a hug".  I looked at a young woman who I hadn't seen anywhere around when I drove up.  I still don't know where she came from.  I told her that yes, I did need a hug.  Why I said that, I have no clue - it certainly wasn't a conscious decision.  She put her arms around me and hugged me gently.  I was immediately filled with warmth and a sense of peace.  Have you ever felt something that affected you so profoundly that you still feel it years later?  That's how that sense of peace affected me.

We spoke for a few minutes and then she handed me a card and told me "My name is Tiffany.  I work here.  If you ever need anything, please call me."  I thanked her and put her card in my pocket.  I honestly don't remember her leaving - or me, either, for that matter.  But when I got home, I reached in my pocket to put her card away and, yeah, you guessed it - there was no card.

About a year later, I  had an appointment with a new doctor and her office happened to be right next to the cemetery.  After my visit, I decided that, since I was right there, I would stop by and pay my respects to my grandparents.  When I pulled up to their grave site, I could tell there was a funeral about to take place on the other side of the little road.  A man from the cemetery was standing there and I asked if I'd be in the way.  He said no, the hearse was about 15 minutes out.

I spent a couple minutes with my grandparents and went back to my car.  Before I got in, I asked the man if they had anyone working there named Tiffany.  He said no, they'd never had anyone working there with that name since he'd been there.  I asked how long he'd been there and he said "ten years".  That was just confirmation of what I already knew.  I had been touched by an Angel.