New Year's Eve was a Funeral

New Year's Eve was a funeral.  I don't mean a funeral like I was at a party and it was really dead.  I've been to those kind of parties though and they suck because you don't want to be there, but if you leave the host gets all offended because they know their party sucks and you leaving early just makes them feel worse.  It wasn't that kind of thing.  I mean I literally spent New Year's Eve giving the eulogy at a funeral.  It was my Uncle K's funeral.  He died just before Christmas and my poor aunt waited until New Year's Eve so that we could get through Christmas with our own families and deal with traveling and stuff after the holiday. Christmas was already kind of stressful (hence no Christmas post) because Big Man (the hubby) was out of town looking for work and it was tough to get through the season without him.  It felt weird and incomplete and we all felt kind of lost.

Then my aunt called to tell me Uncle K had died.  And she asked me to do the eulogy. I couldn't say no.  My Aunt K is almost my mom.  She took my sister and I into her home and helped raise us when we needed a safe place to live. She gave us the childhood we needed and had not been given the chance to have until then.  She treated us like her own children and loved us unconditionally.  How could I say no?  I wanted to, though.  Because eulogies are so personal and important and what you say when a person dies to commemorate their life may have a huge impact on the living who are listening to your words, trying to hear anything that might help them find peace or laughter or closure.  It's a lot of pressure to get that right.  To make sure you honor the dead and uplift the living.

How do I know it's pressure?  Because this is the third eulogy I have delivered.  The first one was for my Dad.  He was my dad and there was lots to say about who he was and how he impacted my life and there was never any thought about speaking at his funeral, it just seemed like it was my responsibility and I wanted the opportunity to honor him.  It was amazingly cathartic and I was so glad afterward that my sister and I chose to take on the responsibility, as tough as it was.

The second eulogy I delivered was for my grandmother.  My Aunt K had been her caretaker for several years and asked if I would talk about Grandma G.  My Grandma G was such a wonderful lady and she too did all she could while we were growing up to love us and help us through some very tough times.  I lived with her on two different occasions while I tried to find my path in life and spent many, many nights listening to stories about her life.  She was so tough and funny!  I loved going through all of her pictures and sharing stories about her life while we prepared for her service.  It gave me the opportunity to see her in all of her glory!

So Uncle K was the third.  An honestly, I wasn't in a real great place emotionally (what's new, right?), so when my aunt asked me to speak, I wondered why her kids didn't want to do it.  She went on to answer my question without me asking..."my kids aren't good at expressing themselves and sharing their emotions in public."  Ah. Well...I'm not sure I am either.  And honestly...who IS comfortable giving a eulogy?  Just because I like to talk a lot and don't mind doing it in front of people doesn't mean I have anything of value to say about a person who just died.  But...I would do anything for my aunt, so I said yes.

It was a tough eulogy to prepare.  I'd visited them throughout the years, but I hadn't lived with my aunt and uncle for 35 years. He was a truck driver, so even when I was living there as a girl he wasn't home a lot.  I had a few memories, but not enough for an entire talk!  So I started trying to interview his kids and brothers and sisters.  His kids couldn't seem to talk much.  Which is so opposite of how I process grief and sadness, so I was really struggling with how to talk about their dad without their input.  His younger brother, however,  painted an incredible story about a man I barely knew.  Apparently my uncle had a pretty tough childhood, which explains a lot about why he wasn't very talkative about his life.  I won't go into details, but it was tough and his dad made it tougher. His brother shared  a lot of things about mu uncle's life that even my uncle's kids didn't know about him.  What I really came away with was that Uncle K wasn't a talker. He was a doer.

He didn't tell his kids about driving trucks, he taught them how so they could make a living.  He didn't tell them how to fix cars.  He taught them so they could fix their own.  He didn't say he would be over sometime to help fix the house.  He just went and fixed the house. Almost every person I talked to shared an experience about how my uncle had helped them.  The picture that emerged as I wrote his eulogy was a huge lesson in judging people and assuming that we know people when we really don't.  Honestly, I always thought my uncle was kind of high maintenance, because I really only saw him at home, where he relied on my aunt a lot for his daily needs.  Turns out the person I thought I kind of knew was in actuality a much more giving, loving person that people realized.  He wasn't a touchy, feely, talky guy who walked around saying flattering things he didn't mean.  He served people.  He helped when he was needed.  He was present when he could be - Daddy Daughter events with granddaughters and nieces (me), time spent working on cars or in the shop with his boys or the neighbors, hiking, camping with the family and grandsons.  There weren't a lot of words.  He didn't talk about helping and loving and sharing feelings.  But there were actions.  He willingly gave of his time and talent when he was needed, from the time he was a young boy until his worn out body wouldn't work anymore.  And I think we all needed to know and understand that about a man that some of us thought was kind of quiet and detached, even grumpy at times. 

So I spent New Year's Eve talking about the life of someone who had just died, while pondering the beginning of a new year in my own life. It was an irony that was not lost on me.  At 48 years old, after five years of struggling with our finances and life in general, I am more lost than ever about who I am and how to get my family where we need to be.  I have no life plan anymore.  Our plans have fallen apart.  Our back up plans fell apart.  We have to start over.  I have to start over and I am scared and worried and afraid to take even one more step forward because I cannot handle one more failure.  So I have been taking stock of my life.  And then I got asked to take stock of someone else's life and present the findings in a pleasant way that would honor the way they lived. Karma or blessing? Maybe some of both.

I was surprised at how emotional I was during the talk.  I thought I would be more composed.  I cried more than I wanted to.  Because I was blessed to get a glimpse of who my uncle really was and share that with people who needed to see him in the most positive light possible.  I got to see how someone who rarely got the best life has to offer accepted what he was given and tried to do something good with it.  And I suddenly felt very grateful for the example my uncle had been.  I'm great with the words of love and support, something my uncle didn't always verbalize, but not so great at actually showing up when I can be of service.  I don't want to be the person who offers help and lots of hugs and "I love yous", but never delivers the goods when push comes to shove.  And sometimes when I am asked to sacrifice my time or energy, I complain because it seems inconvenient or hard.  Uncle K never complained.  He just did what needed to be done.  And mostly...I don't want to die and have my kids not feel like they can talk about me at my funeral because they didn't know me well enough to have something to share. Or because they don't like to speak in public.  I want to tell them everyday how much I love and appreciate them and what a blessing they are to me and how incomplete my life would be without them.  I want to tell them how important it is to serve and love others and not judge.  I want to tell them how important it is to be happy and positive, even when it's hard to feel that way.  And then after I tell them, I want to show them.  

I hope one day they will look back and say, "Remember when we spent New Year's Eve at that funeral and mom had to speak?  Boy...Mom really got her crap together after that.  Life got so much better for our family in 2013."             

Why I Watch the Olympics

My husband and boys were not very interested in watching the Olympics this year. They don't get my obssession with watching the games. They sat and watched a few events, like Phelps racing Lochte or a few gymnastics events, but by and large, they didn't pay too much attention to the whole Olympic thing.

I, on the other hand, LOVE watching the Olympics.  At least I used to, before NBC's crappy coverage this year.  Back in the day they used to show as many of the sports as possible.  Now they only show the few they think will give them the best ratings.  Which is sad.  Because we miss out on some really compelling and moving stories and competitions from lesser known sports and athletes.  I get that shooting and fencing might not make for the most interesting TV, but the athletes have unique and inspiring stories and their struggle for gold is no less real or difficult than the athletes who play basketball or swim.  I'm just saying, it would be nice to get a greater cross section of coverage for the games that showcase the best of the best.  Okay...enough of my rant.  I actually have a point to be made here.

Part of the draw of the Olympics, for me anyway, is the chance to see people who have overcome the odds just to participate in the games.  For them, win or lose, it's all about the journey.  I am always so impressed and amazed by people who have the discipline and determination needed to push themselves beyond the challenges and obstacles that might keep them from becoming world class athletes.  I think I admire them because I struggle with those characteristics.  Discipline does not come naturally for me.  So I love watching athletes who have given all they have, both physically and mentally, for a shot at being the best in their field. 

 

It gives me hope I suppose, to see Kieran Behan,  the gymnast from Ireland, the guy who was told he would never walk again, step onto the mat and do an amazing floor routine.  Did he win a medal?  Nope.  Not even close.  But he won my heart.  Because he proved that the human spirit is always stronger than we think. 

Kieran Behan - Photo credit: Ian Walton/Getty

 

A tumor, broken bones, torn ligaments and a traumatic brain injury threatened not only his athletic career, but his very existence on more than one occasion.  You can read more details about him here and here.  Somehow Kieran pushed through the pain and obstacles and in 2011, his perseverance finally paid off.  He won three World Cup medals, becoming Ireland's first World Cup gold medalist in the floor exercise.  Then he won a spot in the Olympics.   And he did all this with no sponsors!  There were no corporate conglomerates like Guiness or some sports drink to back him.  His mom and dad held bake sales and fundraisers and he worked to earn the money he needed to compete and travel.  All of this sacrifice and effort...because the boy who saw his first Olympics when he was maybe 6 years old wanted to be an Olympic gymanst himself.  In my eyes, he was a winner before he ever stepped into the Olympic Stadium. And I wish I had his courage.        

Stories like this are why I look forward to the Olympics.  I wanna hear about the kid from nowhere who bursts onto the scene and makes a name for herself.  Or the 71 year old Japanese equestrian who competed in dressage this year.  I get caught up in the drama as the competition unfolds and I have to decide whether to root for the underdog or the defending champion.

But my enthusiasm for the games is also emotional and sometimes brings on a bout of depression.  Because I want to me more like the Olympians I watch.   I want to be better about developing characteristics that propel me forward in life, rather than wallowing in the emotional baggage that keeps me trapped. I want to be better at facing and overcoming challenge and adversity.  I want to believe in myself to the point that I am willing to push beyond my preconcieved notions of my own capabilities.

This year as I sat and watched the gymnast from Ireland, I wondered out loud what has to happen in my life to motivate me enough to set some clearly defined goals and pursue them with Olympian style passion?  Why is there nothing in me that screams so loud that it forces me off of the couch and out of the house toward the successful completeion of something great?  Where is that drive?

I am 48 years old and the mother of 2 boys who rely on me to instill in them the qualities and characteristics they will need to be happy, successful, functional adults.  I want them to have the kind of determination and discipline required to overcome setbacks and succeed in life.  How can I teach them what I don't have?

 

So I decided to have my own closing ceremony this year when the Olympics ended.  I want to close the door on my past.  I wanna quit wondering and analyzing how I got so screwed up and walk away from my insecurities and self doubt.   I want to find my path and walk it, regardless of the challenges that are presented along the way.  So I wrote down a list of things I want to work on for the rest of the year.  Then I created an Olympic torch that looked a lot like my backyard BBQ, ran a really lame lap around my tiny backyard and then dropped some little pieces of paper with fears and doubts written on them into the fire and watched them burn.  Then I cried.  A lot.  I don't know why.  I wish Kieran Behan was here so I could ask him what to do next. 

I'm Back

It's amazing what a couple of days away from the computer can do to improve a person's psyche! I'm ready to start blogging again, but I have come to the conclusion that I need to make some changes to the blog. Which I already knew, I guess, because I have been talking about it for awhile now.

When I started the blog, I started it as a way to chronical my family's life and as a place where I could write. Because I love to write. Somewhere I kind of got lost. I was asked to review a few things, then a few more things and pretty soon I felt like my blog was becoming a review blog and not a ME blog! So...because I love doing both, I will continue to do both, but I will keep them very separate. From now on, I will only do reviews and giveaways on my review page. So if you wanna win stuff, you HAVE to visit the review page. I will have a little spot in one of the columns listing the giveaways to remind you to stop by the review page and enter the contests. How's that sound?

I haven't posted in a while about life in general because life in general has been throwing me lots of curves lately. Some good, some not so good. And I turned 45 last week. I am on my way to being middle aged. This is a weird place to be. I thought I would be farther along in my accomplishments by now. I don't feel like I have been very successful in a lot of areas. And I'm starting to get wrinkles. Along with the fact that I am still really overweight and struggling to get in shape, which I have struggled with since I was like 10 years old. So turning 45 was kind of hard. I'm not where I want to be in my life. Physically, mentally or temporally.

But some good things have come from my thinking about my age. I realized that I am not yet too old to change some of my issues. I still have time to lose weight and get healthy. I can still accomplish some of my goals, if I'll actually get my butt in gear and quit moping around the house. The wrinkle issue is a bit harder, but cosmetics have come a long, long way and there is LOTS of wrinkle filling collagen stuff out there that I can use to feel a bit younger. Or I can stay fat, that's been a pretty good wrinkle filler so far!

Really, the best thing that has come out of my turning 45 is that the big event really pushed me to sit down and think about what I want the next phase of my life to be like. Taking inventory isn't always fun and I can tell you my inventory came with a lot of personal revelations about my weaknesses and issues, but it helped me recognize where I tend to get stuck. I came out of the last few weeks with a renewed sense of purpose. I feel more comfortable in my own skin...except for the flabby, saggy skin that is appearing from my attempts to lose weight. I am SOOOO not comfortable with that skin.

But I am comfortable with a lot more of myself than I used to be. I am comfortable with the fact that I still have a lot of living to do. I am comfortable with the fact that I don't have to let the past define who I am. I am comfortable with the fact that who I am may change a little once in awhile as I grow and progress and become a wiser individual. I am amazingly comfortable with my belief system and my morals and values. I know who I am in those areas. I don't have to stop and think anymore about those things.

And I know now that I can be happy if I choose to be. I am comfortable knowing that I can leave my unhappiness behind now. It has served whatever purpose it was here to serve and I am free to let it go and move on with my life. I am comfortable seeking joy. I'm not sure how good I'll be at seeking joy and leaving unhappiness behind, but I'm gonna give it a try.

Hope you'll stick around while I work out the details. You guys give me strength to get through it all.