Have you ever had completely random conversations with people that somehow correlated? They have no idea that you've spoken to someone else and yet somehow it all fits together ... It's almost as if the cosmos is spitting out a message. Call it God, the higher power, whatever.
Everyone is talking about the power of positive thinking--you know, the idea that if you think about something you want, you're supposed to be able to get it.
Now I don't know about you, but I've thought that I could win the lottery for a long time-and not once (Not ONCE) has it ever happened.
So I wonder if there's anything to this positive thinking stuff. I mean, I'm a pretty optimistic "glass if half full" kind of person. But does that have any effect on anything that might happen in life?
It is said that happy people live longer, more fulfilled lives. So wouldn't it stand to reason that if you're happy, things naturally go your way? Because if things happen that don't go your way, I imagine you'd disregard them or get over them faster than someone with say depression would. Therefore, the negative things that happen to an optimistic person don't affect them the same way. Thus, they are able to stay happier longer. When a person is happy, then tend to forget about the negative.
I was also thinking about how people in domestic violence relationships have the tendency to establish patterns where they constantly return to people time after time that have personalities similar to their parents and statistically, that means over-bearing and domineering control freaks. So with the idea that if you think something, it will come true-this might just be the same thing if you think negative thoughts, they might just come true. Because you subconsciously put out the energy that you are afraid of this very scenario coming true. How is it that it then comes true? It might be because subconsciously you made it happen ...
Anyways, everyone is talking about the book, "The Secret." I haven't read it, but I'm sure it's something along the lines of what I am talking about.
I almost neglected to mention the idea of finding a good relationship. If you think you can find a good relationship, will you find one? Or if you secretly fear you are going to have a crappy relationship, will you subconsciously undermine it? How does that work when you don't like the relationship someone else is in? Because your thoughts don't seem to have any effect on that ... =P
Seriously, is it possible to find everything you're looking for in a relationship just by the power of positive thinking? Okay, so here goes: I'm waiting for you whomever you are. You're going to be funny, intelligent, nerdy, and perfect. Oh, and romantic too. You like to cuddle. You don't play games. You're going to figure out I'm amazing any day now and ask me out. You're not married or otherwise taken. You're kind and like children. Oh, and dogs too. There, I just sent a message out into the cosmos ... let's see what happens.
What do you think?
Monday, February 18, 2008
Success!
This is going to be a rare opportunity for me to share a little bit about myself in terms of where I came from; I don't do that very often because ... well for a lot of reasons. Many of you who grew up with me are familiar, at least in some part, with my story. Truthfully, the main reason I am hesitant to speak of this is because ... I'm not better than anyone else. No matter what humble beginnings I started from, what only matters is what I do with myself today. I don't want to seem as though I think I'm that great. Because the truth is, I'm not. I'm just a person trying to live my life and trying to make it out there. But yes, I am proud of all that I have done and accomplished. I am proud of a few things I would like to share here ...
It was said that when my sister and I were taken by social services, people were concerned for us. I was told later that they had an assembly at school (wow!) to let everyone know we were all right. People were encouraged to write to us. So, while I found myself in a strange town with strange people and feeling awful, the love and warmth I felt when I read the letters people sent me, filled me with hope and thankfulness.
So many people have asked me why I was able to make it out okay. How is it that despite everything, despite the years of abuse, despite the constant tormenting, that I was able to come out of it as well as I did. I think it's funny that when someone goes in and shoots up a group of people in a school (see recent news) that people are quick to blame their poor childhood or background. They are quick to try and point a finger somewhere as if somehow, that excuses, or even makes sense of their behavior.
But, I argue, it doesn't. We are responsible for ourselves and how we turn out. We can use our pasts as our crutches, or we can rise above it to be better than we're expeted to be.
When people ask me the "secret" to how I made it, I don't know the answer to that question. I wish I could point to one specific event or person or people or thoughts or ... whatever to say that this is why, but I just can't. I can only say that it was by the grace of God (if He is up there) and by the miracles provided that included strength and courage given to me, and by the warmth, compassion, love, and kindness I received from my friends, teachers, and community. It was they who believed in me and made me think that anything was possible. They were the ones who drove me to be better than I was, to think for the future, to want for more in my life than just what I was given.
To this end, I just want to take a moment to highlight some of the people (I know you're out there-you are not forgotten) who really made a difference in my life. My friend Deon is the first person I want to thank. She was the first real friend I felt I had. I loved her family; they treated me like I was a second daughter and it was to them, that I first confided my "situation" at home. It was them who first lent me their compassion and understanding.
To my teachers, who gave understanding and consideration. Those that knew, when I finally began to tell them, knew I could never do my homework at home and they understood and forgave the days I could not focus, could not study, and yet still, continued to want to learn. I knew that knowledge would eventually set me free of my prison, and I was right.
Specifically to Mr. Cooper, Mrs. Sevig, Mrs. King, Mr. Brookins, and Jan for encouraging me to find and become who it is I was meant to be, even if I stumbled along the way. Mr. Cooper encouraged me to follow my own path, even if it meant secretly participating in drama, despite the wishes of my mother ... I will also never forget Mrs. Williams whose teaching methods were unusual, but who really thought I had a talent for writing. Maybe she was wrong.
I am grateful to Norma, though she will never read this, provided me a place to live and has always been and always will be, a second mom to me. To Debbie who gave me a job, and later promoted me, who encouraged me to be an assertive leader.
To my drama friends and Ashland pals-whose antics and all-night-room-parties I will never forget.
To my beautiful town, small though it is, whose people encouraged me. People I didn't even know would approach me and give me a hug or offer a word of encouragement. People knew I had gotten accepted to Pacific U before I did. Sometimes, though a small town can hold you back and catch you in its web, my town seemed to push me forward.
It's important to mention my psychologist Barbara Hershey (through social services) who was my mentor and sounding board. She always told me I was too hard on myself, but not (thankfully) crazy!
Finally, to Steve. I wouldn't have made the push to move down here, with no friends, no job, and no money-if he hadn't somehow convinced me that I could do it.
So to answer your question, I don't know what happened. I don't know by what miracle I ended up in this place or don't have ill feelings about my childhood. It might have something to do with the fact that ... no one ever told me I couldn't do it-except my mother. No one told me I couldn't make it, or I couldn't do better. No one told me I couldn't get a great job or finish college or have the life I wanted. Well, I should qualify that statement by saying-no one of significance held me back. You will always find small people in your life who do their best to hold you back, kick you when you're down, or try and lessen your worth. But YOU are the only one who can define your value... so it was only people of value who I am referring to. Even the ones who tried to hold me back had some sort of impact on me. The ones who used drugs, many of whom I called "friends" who were convinced I would never leave the town, only made me that much more sure that my only means of escape was to leave without looking back.
So here I am. I won't rest on the crutch of being broken. I won't settle for my past as an excuse to be any less than great. I won't let my shortcomings affect my relationships and I certainly won't let my mother's poor parenting skills trickle down to my children one day. Because I am better than that ...
I truly hope that by doing what it is I do, I can give back somehow and make a difference in someone else's life the way my friends, teachers, second family, and town, made in mine. I have learned so much along the way including how to be a better friend, a better sister, and a better parent. I also learned that the past doesn't have to hold you back, but can be an instrument in your success. Success doesn't have to mean that I'm rich or that I have a mansion or even that I publish a million books (well, that part would be nice) ... all it means is that I made it and am (mostly) healthy and happy to be alive.
For all those who would use their pasts as a means of excusing the rest of their lives, or as justifcation for harming others, I can only hope that these people realize that there is more to life out there than what we are given. Not all people are bad. We have the obligation and responsibility to do more with what we are given. We must take responsibility for ourselves and not let our pasts hold us back from all the things that we were meant to do in this life.
Anyways, just a thought. A lot of you reading this have stories and ... things that happened to you along the way that perhaps you're not proud of. My only advice is to find someone to talk to about it. Find a friend, a neighbor, a significant other, a psychologist, a journal ... and let it out. Let out all the anger, all the pain, and all the rest of the things that will follow can only lift you up.
If you're the listener, please, give this person the opportunity to do something with their lives other than become a burden on our welfare system or just another number when it comes to social services. People aren't numbers. Offer words of encouragement where you can. You don't have to feel pity for them or give them unwanted help, sometimes the best thing you can do is offer them a sympathetic ear, a polite hug, or a word of encouragement. You may not see a difference now, but even the smallest words can have a profound effect. Have compassion for those who are broken and suffering.
Let's not become a nation or a world of people held back by ghosts and phantoms. Let us become the people who rise above adversity and find success that starts with a new beginning ... and perhaps a friend.
It was said that when my sister and I were taken by social services, people were concerned for us. I was told later that they had an assembly at school (wow!) to let everyone know we were all right. People were encouraged to write to us. So, while I found myself in a strange town with strange people and feeling awful, the love and warmth I felt when I read the letters people sent me, filled me with hope and thankfulness.
So many people have asked me why I was able to make it out okay. How is it that despite everything, despite the years of abuse, despite the constant tormenting, that I was able to come out of it as well as I did. I think it's funny that when someone goes in and shoots up a group of people in a school (see recent news) that people are quick to blame their poor childhood or background. They are quick to try and point a finger somewhere as if somehow, that excuses, or even makes sense of their behavior.
But, I argue, it doesn't. We are responsible for ourselves and how we turn out. We can use our pasts as our crutches, or we can rise above it to be better than we're expeted to be.
When people ask me the "secret" to how I made it, I don't know the answer to that question. I wish I could point to one specific event or person or people or thoughts or ... whatever to say that this is why, but I just can't. I can only say that it was by the grace of God (if He is up there) and by the miracles provided that included strength and courage given to me, and by the warmth, compassion, love, and kindness I received from my friends, teachers, and community. It was they who believed in me and made me think that anything was possible. They were the ones who drove me to be better than I was, to think for the future, to want for more in my life than just what I was given.
To this end, I just want to take a moment to highlight some of the people (I know you're out there-you are not forgotten) who really made a difference in my life. My friend Deon is the first person I want to thank. She was the first real friend I felt I had. I loved her family; they treated me like I was a second daughter and it was to them, that I first confided my "situation" at home. It was them who first lent me their compassion and understanding.
To my teachers, who gave understanding and consideration. Those that knew, when I finally began to tell them, knew I could never do my homework at home and they understood and forgave the days I could not focus, could not study, and yet still, continued to want to learn. I knew that knowledge would eventually set me free of my prison, and I was right.
Specifically to Mr. Cooper, Mrs. Sevig, Mrs. King, Mr. Brookins, and Jan for encouraging me to find and become who it is I was meant to be, even if I stumbled along the way. Mr. Cooper encouraged me to follow my own path, even if it meant secretly participating in drama, despite the wishes of my mother ... I will also never forget Mrs. Williams whose teaching methods were unusual, but who really thought I had a talent for writing. Maybe she was wrong.
I am grateful to Norma, though she will never read this, provided me a place to live and has always been and always will be, a second mom to me. To Debbie who gave me a job, and later promoted me, who encouraged me to be an assertive leader.
To my drama friends and Ashland pals-whose antics and all-night-room-parties I will never forget.
To my beautiful town, small though it is, whose people encouraged me. People I didn't even know would approach me and give me a hug or offer a word of encouragement. People knew I had gotten accepted to Pacific U before I did. Sometimes, though a small town can hold you back and catch you in its web, my town seemed to push me forward.
It's important to mention my psychologist Barbara Hershey (through social services) who was my mentor and sounding board. She always told me I was too hard on myself, but not (thankfully) crazy!
Finally, to Steve. I wouldn't have made the push to move down here, with no friends, no job, and no money-if he hadn't somehow convinced me that I could do it.
So to answer your question, I don't know what happened. I don't know by what miracle I ended up in this place or don't have ill feelings about my childhood. It might have something to do with the fact that ... no one ever told me I couldn't do it-except my mother. No one told me I couldn't make it, or I couldn't do better. No one told me I couldn't get a great job or finish college or have the life I wanted. Well, I should qualify that statement by saying-no one of significance held me back. You will always find small people in your life who do their best to hold you back, kick you when you're down, or try and lessen your worth. But YOU are the only one who can define your value... so it was only people of value who I am referring to. Even the ones who tried to hold me back had some sort of impact on me. The ones who used drugs, many of whom I called "friends" who were convinced I would never leave the town, only made me that much more sure that my only means of escape was to leave without looking back.
So here I am. I won't rest on the crutch of being broken. I won't settle for my past as an excuse to be any less than great. I won't let my shortcomings affect my relationships and I certainly won't let my mother's poor parenting skills trickle down to my children one day. Because I am better than that ...
I truly hope that by doing what it is I do, I can give back somehow and make a difference in someone else's life the way my friends, teachers, second family, and town, made in mine. I have learned so much along the way including how to be a better friend, a better sister, and a better parent. I also learned that the past doesn't have to hold you back, but can be an instrument in your success. Success doesn't have to mean that I'm rich or that I have a mansion or even that I publish a million books (well, that part would be nice) ... all it means is that I made it and am (mostly) healthy and happy to be alive.
For all those who would use their pasts as a means of excusing the rest of their lives, or as justifcation for harming others, I can only hope that these people realize that there is more to life out there than what we are given. Not all people are bad. We have the obligation and responsibility to do more with what we are given. We must take responsibility for ourselves and not let our pasts hold us back from all the things that we were meant to do in this life.
Anyways, just a thought. A lot of you reading this have stories and ... things that happened to you along the way that perhaps you're not proud of. My only advice is to find someone to talk to about it. Find a friend, a neighbor, a significant other, a psychologist, a journal ... and let it out. Let out all the anger, all the pain, and all the rest of the things that will follow can only lift you up.
If you're the listener, please, give this person the opportunity to do something with their lives other than become a burden on our welfare system or just another number when it comes to social services. People aren't numbers. Offer words of encouragement where you can. You don't have to feel pity for them or give them unwanted help, sometimes the best thing you can do is offer them a sympathetic ear, a polite hug, or a word of encouragement. You may not see a difference now, but even the smallest words can have a profound effect. Have compassion for those who are broken and suffering.
Let's not become a nation or a world of people held back by ghosts and phantoms. Let us become the people who rise above adversity and find success that starts with a new beginning ... and perhaps a friend.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
You Are Loved
So about a year or so ago, I was going through one of my bleakest moments ever. I was driving back from a friend's house and was thinking about how completely unloved and alone I felt. It's been an incredible journey, these past 10 years here in California, and it's sometimes difficult to believe how far I've actually come.
I was reflecting on poor decisions I've made, friends I've lost touch with along the way, and thinking that if I were to die, no one would ever notice it. As I said, one of my bleaker outlook moments in life. Anyways, it was silent in my car; for once, I didn't have the blaring radio to quiet my thoughts. So as I'm thinking about this, and thinking of how hopeless I felt, I got the inexplicable feeling to turn on the radio. A station (one that I never listened to) suddenly popped into my head (I know how crazy it sounds) but it's all true. So I turned to that station and all of a sudden, a sad mellow tune from a piano caught my attention. Everyone who knows me well knows that I have always held a soft spot in my heart for anyone who can play and the hair on my arm stood up. I felt as though I NEEDED to listen to this song. And these were the first words I heard:
"Don't give up. It's just the weight of the world when your heart's heavy, I will lift it for you. Don't give up, because you want to be heard ... if silence keeps you, I will break it for you."
Even now as I write this, the hairs on my arm again stand up and I am overtaken by the powerful effect that these words had on me the first time I heard Josh Groban (didn't even know who that was, had to look it up) sing it. As if reading my thoughts in an innermost part of my heart, he continued,
"Everybody wants to be understood...well I can hear you. Everybody wants to be loved. Don't give up...because you are loved."
It sounds cheesy, but those words meant something to me. If there is a God, then he was clearly sending me a message loud and clear.
So I just wanted to offer up a little hope for all those people out there who are suffering in some way, who are lost or are hurting, or feel as I did then, that no one cared for me.
"It's just the hurt that you hide, when you're lost inside ... I'll be there to find you ... Don't give up because you want to burn bright. If darkness blinds you, I will shine to guide you ... don't give up."
I don't know the bigger plan or what lies ahead in our futures. I don't know who will fall or who will continue onward. I don't know if I'll ever find what I'm looking for or a safe place to rest and a good heart to place my trust in. But I do know that no matter how difficult things are, if we truly listen, listen to the messages we are given, we'll discover the path, the way, the light.
We all lose our way sometimes in this journey we call life. Everyone feels lost sometimes, everyone wants to give up. No matter what you are going through, don't give up. Remember: you are loved.
I was reflecting on poor decisions I've made, friends I've lost touch with along the way, and thinking that if I were to die, no one would ever notice it. As I said, one of my bleaker outlook moments in life. Anyways, it was silent in my car; for once, I didn't have the blaring radio to quiet my thoughts. So as I'm thinking about this, and thinking of how hopeless I felt, I got the inexplicable feeling to turn on the radio. A station (one that I never listened to) suddenly popped into my head (I know how crazy it sounds) but it's all true. So I turned to that station and all of a sudden, a sad mellow tune from a piano caught my attention. Everyone who knows me well knows that I have always held a soft spot in my heart for anyone who can play and the hair on my arm stood up. I felt as though I NEEDED to listen to this song. And these were the first words I heard:
"Don't give up. It's just the weight of the world when your heart's heavy, I will lift it for you. Don't give up, because you want to be heard ... if silence keeps you, I will break it for you."
Even now as I write this, the hairs on my arm again stand up and I am overtaken by the powerful effect that these words had on me the first time I heard Josh Groban (didn't even know who that was, had to look it up) sing it. As if reading my thoughts in an innermost part of my heart, he continued,
"Everybody wants to be understood...well I can hear you. Everybody wants to be loved. Don't give up...because you are loved."
It sounds cheesy, but those words meant something to me. If there is a God, then he was clearly sending me a message loud and clear.
So I just wanted to offer up a little hope for all those people out there who are suffering in some way, who are lost or are hurting, or feel as I did then, that no one cared for me.
"It's just the hurt that you hide, when you're lost inside ... I'll be there to find you ... Don't give up because you want to burn bright. If darkness blinds you, I will shine to guide you ... don't give up."
I don't know the bigger plan or what lies ahead in our futures. I don't know who will fall or who will continue onward. I don't know if I'll ever find what I'm looking for or a safe place to rest and a good heart to place my trust in. But I do know that no matter how difficult things are, if we truly listen, listen to the messages we are given, we'll discover the path, the way, the light.
We all lose our way sometimes in this journey we call life. Everyone feels lost sometimes, everyone wants to give up. No matter what you are going through, don't give up. Remember: you are loved.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
In Memory
I have been rejoicing in my last few hours of being 20-something. I came across a journal I wrote on January 3, 2005 as follows:
"I was shocked to learn of his condition. Co-workers had heard he would probably not make it through the night. He had gone into cardiac arrest either on Christmas or the day after. He was in a coma. The family had requested that no one visit. His legs and arms were turning black because of lack of blood circulation. Still in a coma, his family had made the heartbreaking decision to take him off the ventilator.
The told me about his condition on January 1rst and it was to happen later that evening. What's sad is that I just saw his smiling face a couple of weeks ago. I remember thinking how sick-how unwell-he looked. He was wearing shorts and his legs were thin and pale.
The last time we worked together, he told me, "Nice guys finish last," as he nervously adjusted his beanie he always wore. I knew he was talking about himself. Now, during Christmas, a time supposed to be filled with light and joy, a very good man was fighting for his life.
All that night I could barely sleep. My mind saddened with the news and my heart hoping for the miracle I knew would not come. To my dismay, I heard that he had passed sometime around 9:30 p.m. that night.
And so, cancer has taken yet another life tonight. I didn't know him very well and yet something feels different-I feel different.
The world suddenly seems colder without him. As I drove to work today, the same routine I follow every day, I was reminded that the world was still pushing forward whether or not I was ready for it to. The parking lot was full as it always was, as if nothing had ever happened. And it has been raining.
So here I am, carrying on. I don't think it has quite sunk in yet, and I'm not sure I want it to. Every time I think of him, I see his smiling face and his quiet, gentle kindness. He will be missed."
I wrote that post over two years ago and it still affects me deeply. It seems like such a sad thing when the world lets wonderful, kind, and seemingly amazing people pass on from us to go wherever they go when they die. His words, "nice guys finish last" has continued to stick in my heart because a part of me feels he was right.
Death is a part of life and growing another year older is a part of that too. But it just makes me remember how precious life is and how we can't waste one single moment of it. Yet we do. We waste it with the wrong person, with the wrong ideas, with the wrong job, with the wrong outlook on life.
You know, Victor (that's his name) worked almost up to the end. He had to have suspected he was getting sick again. Yet he came, day after day, shift after shift, and put in his time and his heart into his job. He was one of those guys who had this presence about him that was always stronger in a silent way. He never yelled at the kids and I never once saw him get upset to the point of frustration. It was as if he knew a secret that everyone else didn't. Of course, he was struggling with things most of us don't have to deal with in a lifetime.
As a strange side note, I filled in for his shift the day of his funeral service. I couldn't bring myself to go. So it seems fitting that I should fill in for him as a sort of last tribute and payment of respect. All throughout the shift, I said small silent prayers that he would find peace in his final resting place.
The only regret that I have is that I never really took the time to get to know him. How many great people do we work with and we never really take the time to get to know? How many people are in our lives that we never know who they really are? I wish I would have asked him what he liked to do for fun or what kind of movies he liked. I wish I could have found out his story or how he came to work with me.
I am going to make an effort to listen more and talk less; I've said that before. I want to be less selfish. I want to know about people. I want to find out who they are and what makes their world go round. Anyways, this is in memory of Victor and all those who have come before in my life who have passed away and I never got the opportunity to know as well as I'd like.
Joey-You were always kind to me. I'm sorry the last words I spoke were unkind. You were a great friend. (Joey and his family all died in a fire)
Paula-I wish I would have helped you in your garden. If only I would have knocked on your door just one more time ... (Paula fell in her kitchen and was there for two days and died. No one came to rescue her)
Gary-You were always great to me as my partner in drama. You always made me laugh. (Gary was killed in a hunting accident)
Sharon-Your stories, your crazy cats, your love of the Angels, and your heart will always be missed.
This is to remember all the good people who were part of someone's life and will always be remembered in mine.
"I was shocked to learn of his condition. Co-workers had heard he would probably not make it through the night. He had gone into cardiac arrest either on Christmas or the day after. He was in a coma. The family had requested that no one visit. His legs and arms were turning black because of lack of blood circulation. Still in a coma, his family had made the heartbreaking decision to take him off the ventilator.
The told me about his condition on January 1rst and it was to happen later that evening. What's sad is that I just saw his smiling face a couple of weeks ago. I remember thinking how sick-how unwell-he looked. He was wearing shorts and his legs were thin and pale.
The last time we worked together, he told me, "Nice guys finish last," as he nervously adjusted his beanie he always wore. I knew he was talking about himself. Now, during Christmas, a time supposed to be filled with light and joy, a very good man was fighting for his life.
All that night I could barely sleep. My mind saddened with the news and my heart hoping for the miracle I knew would not come. To my dismay, I heard that he had passed sometime around 9:30 p.m. that night.
And so, cancer has taken yet another life tonight. I didn't know him very well and yet something feels different-I feel different.
The world suddenly seems colder without him. As I drove to work today, the same routine I follow every day, I was reminded that the world was still pushing forward whether or not I was ready for it to. The parking lot was full as it always was, as if nothing had ever happened. And it has been raining.
So here I am, carrying on. I don't think it has quite sunk in yet, and I'm not sure I want it to. Every time I think of him, I see his smiling face and his quiet, gentle kindness. He will be missed."
I wrote that post over two years ago and it still affects me deeply. It seems like such a sad thing when the world lets wonderful, kind, and seemingly amazing people pass on from us to go wherever they go when they die. His words, "nice guys finish last" has continued to stick in my heart because a part of me feels he was right.
Death is a part of life and growing another year older is a part of that too. But it just makes me remember how precious life is and how we can't waste one single moment of it. Yet we do. We waste it with the wrong person, with the wrong ideas, with the wrong job, with the wrong outlook on life.
You know, Victor (that's his name) worked almost up to the end. He had to have suspected he was getting sick again. Yet he came, day after day, shift after shift, and put in his time and his heart into his job. He was one of those guys who had this presence about him that was always stronger in a silent way. He never yelled at the kids and I never once saw him get upset to the point of frustration. It was as if he knew a secret that everyone else didn't. Of course, he was struggling with things most of us don't have to deal with in a lifetime.
As a strange side note, I filled in for his shift the day of his funeral service. I couldn't bring myself to go. So it seems fitting that I should fill in for him as a sort of last tribute and payment of respect. All throughout the shift, I said small silent prayers that he would find peace in his final resting place.
The only regret that I have is that I never really took the time to get to know him. How many great people do we work with and we never really take the time to get to know? How many people are in our lives that we never know who they really are? I wish I would have asked him what he liked to do for fun or what kind of movies he liked. I wish I could have found out his story or how he came to work with me.
I am going to make an effort to listen more and talk less; I've said that before. I want to be less selfish. I want to know about people. I want to find out who they are and what makes their world go round. Anyways, this is in memory of Victor and all those who have come before in my life who have passed away and I never got the opportunity to know as well as I'd like.
Joey-You were always kind to me. I'm sorry the last words I spoke were unkind. You were a great friend. (Joey and his family all died in a fire)
Paula-I wish I would have helped you in your garden. If only I would have knocked on your door just one more time ... (Paula fell in her kitchen and was there for two days and died. No one came to rescue her)
Gary-You were always great to me as my partner in drama. You always made me laugh. (Gary was killed in a hunting accident)
Sharon-Your stories, your crazy cats, your love of the Angels, and your heart will always be missed.
This is to remember all the good people who were part of someone's life and will always be remembered in mine.
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