"Goodness is the only investment that never fails." That's a quote by Henry David Thoreau. I am always a little leery of a person that uses three names. It always rubs me the wrong way. I can't think of any reason why this would be. Other than John Wayne Gacy, I can't think of anyone in particular who was evil and used three names. Well, maybe Hillary Rodham Clinton might fit in that category too. At any rate, I don't really have anything bad to say about old Henry so I might as well get back to the quote.
I can see how it would be easy to think that being good would lead to good results, but this is not always the case. The problem is, that not everybody defines good in the same way. Also, sometimes good won't work... Take addiction, for instance. Addictions are very hard to beat, and although you may think you are doing good you could be doing the opposite without realizing it. My wife had addictive personality disorder. This was just a way of saying that she had many addictions going on simultaneously. While we were married, I only really knew of two of them... while some of the others were there, I just thought they were really odd behavior tied to the two or three things I knew about. The ones I knew about, I naturally tried to help her fight. I would sweep the house for bottles of booze, keep her away from social situations that would trigger bouts of drinking, and try not to say things that would trigger excessive dieting (she was an alcoholic and also fought anorexia). It ends up, the psychologists called me an enabler since I didn't kick her out of the house and tell her that her behavior was unacceptable. Well, for the last three years of her life, Sharon was not in our house. She lived on her own and she only had supervised visits with the children. Listening to the psychologists, you would think that Sharon would have gotten better. "She needed to hit bottom" a number of them said. One went so far as to say that she would not see Sharon anymore since she was not following her instructions. This little end came once Sharon fell off the wagon and had gotten drunk one night. Given Sharon's inability to stop drinking was the key reason we were seeing her, I found this social worker's reason for abandoning working with Sharon pathetic. The one positive thing I will say about working with that particular social worker was, she was the only one to ever diagnose Sharon accurately in my opinion. She is the one that diagnosed her with addictive personality disorder. Up until that point, we thought we were only fighting alcoholism and anorexia/binge eating. So what was really good and what was bad? In this instance I don't really know. I divorced Sharon to protect the girls, since her behavior was getting too erratic and really was dangerous for the baby. The psychologists said I needed to show her there was repercussions for her drinking. Three years after we first separated, Sharon drank herself to death. In those three years she was on her own, she never hit a bottom that couldn't fall deeper. After living through it all, I can say that Sharon needed more help than I could give her... or anyone for that matter. The doctors could not help her, I could not help her, the in-patient and out-patient programs could not help her. She needed to help herself. I feel bad that the last three years of her life was spent without me and her daughters by her side throughout it. To this day, my heart is with Sharon. She was my wife and I loved her deeply. She could not be around our children regularly, because of her drinking... And that hurt her tremendously. It hurt me too, and the girls. Ashleigh was never raised by Sharon. I brought her home from the hospital when she was four days old, and I raised her on my own. Ashleigh still remembers her Mom, but more as a friend who played with her. She was three when Sharon died. Maddie was eleven. The anniversary of Sharon's death comes up in four days. This time always makes me look back and think could I have done anything different that would have helped Sharon. My answer is no. I loved her with all of my heart. I tried to do what I thought was best. Later, I tried to do what the doctors said, even though I did not think it was best. Sometimes, the good can be the bad and the ugly as well. In the end, do what you believe is good, but like anything else, know that sometimes being good isn't going to be enough.
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The idea for this post came from a quote by Paulo Coelho. It's a long one, so I will break it out below. “Ester asked why people are sad. "That’s simple," says the old man. "They are the prisoners of their personal history. Everyone believes that the main aim in life is to follow a plan. They never ask if that plan is theirs or if it was created by another person. They accumulate experiences, memories, things, other people's ideas, and it is more than they can possibly cope with. And that is why they forget their dreams.” To be honest, I thought about this one for a little while before I decided to write about it. I think what the old man says has a lot of wisdom in it. To start, I do think that we all really do try to follow a plan for our lives. Whether it is a plan we created, or whether it was suggested by others doesn't really matter. We all have something we are trying to accomplish. I have a friend who buys new cars constantly. Why? I don't know. I think he may be trying to buy happiness... or self respect. I think he equates his standing in his social group with what car he drives. He is young yet, so I am curious to see how this little drama works out. What I find more interesting, is how did this "plan" for his spare cash come about? What drives him to buy different cars constantly? Is he a prisoner of his own personal history? For me, memories keep me prisoner. As I get along with my day, I will see or hear something that brings back a memory. When they are happy memories, I usually just smile or laugh. Sometimes, I will share them with my daughter if she is nearby because she is very perceptive and can always pick out when I am amused by something, even if I don't think I am showing it on my face. Lately, I have been happy that I have been insanely busy. The last week in July and the first week in August are typically a tough time for me. Sharon was in a coma for the last two weeks of July and then died on August 1, 2013. It will be the third anniversary of her death on Monday. Today was her birthday. She had just turned 38 when she died. For most of the people on the planet, these days are meaningless. I too, try to make them meaningless since my wife is now dead. I try not to think about these days, as anything special, and I try not to "feel" anything on these days. I fail miserably on those points, however. I seem to be a prisoner of my own personal memories. Each year, I try to chip away at the chains those days have on my soul, but I am barely successful.
Although I wonder if others have trouble coping with their pasts (whether at certain times of the year, or always), I know deep down that many do. I also wonder what dreams were put to the wayside because these people were/are prisoners of their pasts. I also wonder if I can answer honestly what dreams of my own have I put on a shelf due to my own mental wardens holding me prisoner in a prison that I created for myself. We all have dreams we have put to the side over the years. Personally, I wonder how many I have put to the side, not because they were not good ideas or were not worthy, but because of a wall I put up around my own beliefs... or because of my own past mistakes. Today, I was a prisoner to my dead wife's birthday. I stayed busy all day, trying to dig myself out of my prison. I almost made it. My tunnel seems to have collapsed, though, so here I am writing this post. For me, there is always tomorrow to start digging myself out again. Don't be a prisoner to your past folks. Follow your dreams, and if you don't currently have any... then make some! In the end, people regret what they don't do or try to do. Make some dreams... or even a bucket list. And then chase them "The tragedy of life is not death, but what we let die inside of us while we live." That's a quote by Norman Cousins.Cousins was a famous journalist and newspaper editor for more than three decades. You may know one of his more famous quotes: "Life is an adventure in forgiveness.
To tell you the truth, I could have easily written about either of these quotes. I'll stick with the first one, though. It is easy to understand. Death itself is not a tragedy. It is a part of life. In fact, death really isn't anything for the people it is happening to.. they are dead. The tragedy is usually for the people left living. My wife, for example, was a tragedy for me and my daughters. For her, it was just the end of her life. A tragic end of her life for us, but just a lack of existence for her. I can't say this for my daughters, but I know it holds true for me. A part of me died on the night that Sharon passed away. I held her for six hours while her life slowly ebbed away. Many thoughts went through my head that night. Thoughts I knew I would no longer be able to share with her. Her smile, her laugh, other things she did that I just took for granted. They would be there tomorrow. Until they weren't. I thought about those things... and others while I listened to the death rattle in her breathing. I thought of my daughters and how they would never learn things from her that were usually a right of passage for girls to learn from their mothers. How they wouldn't have an understanding female ear there to listen to their hopes and dreams as they grew, or to give them other types of womanly advice. I thought of plans Sharon and I had that were now never going to come to fruition. So yes, these things died within me on that night. But at the same time other things were born within me to take the place of those dying dreams. I redoubled my effort to make sure my girls always had someone to talk to... even though I was a man. I changed the path of my life to make sure I could remain at home to home school them and make sure they got the type of education that I wished I had gotten when I was younger. Like a Phoenix, new dreams sprang forth from the ashes of the old to replace the ones that die. So I guess in looking at the quote, he is right that some things will die inside us. But I think the real tragedy would be in not replacing those things that died with new dreams. Everyone dies. And we all at one point or another have some of our dreams shattered. The real tragedy would be in not replacing those dreams with something else you can live with. "Better three hours too soon than a minute too late!" That's a quote by William Shakespeare. Just goes to show that sometimes being a good writer just comes down to saying something in such a way that everyone gets it.
Take the above quote, for instance. What do you think of when you read that sentence? I can almost guarantee that you don't think of the same thing that I do. In fact, you could read that line every day, and, depending on your mood, you may think of something different. If it's early in the morning, and you are in a light-hearted mood, you might think of your first cup of coffee. If you are stressed out, it might remind you of a looming deadline at work. For me, it always reminds me of the same damn thing. And for the rest of my life, I think it always will. You see, this isn't the first time I have read that quote. Indeed, I see it all the time. The words may change a little... or the picture it is attached to. It doesn't matter. No matter how it is presented, it makes me think of my wife, and the things left unsaid between us. My wife's death came as a shock to me. Not that I didn't know she was struggling with problems that could eventually lead to death... I knew that! But just the way it happened. We never think that today may be the last day we see someone. Or, in my case, the last day we can get to say something to them and have them understand. You see, I got to see my wife each day for two weeks while she lay in a coma. She had died three times already by then, but the doctors kept reviving her. To me, those two weeks don't count. For me, the last time I spoke to my wife was on the day before I left for New Jersey with the girls to go to a concert with Madison. This was about two days before Sharon was hospitalized. We had stopped by to say good bye, and we spoke to her for a few minutes. Sharon hadn't been feeling well for the past few weeks and she seemed down. I thought it was because we were going away for a few days. As we got up to leave, Sharon came up to me and gave me a long hug, and whispered I love you into my ear. We were divorced by this time and just giving each other little perfunctory kisses on the cheek when we either came or went... you know, kind of like you do to people who are in your family, but you don't speak to a lot. Thus I was surprised when she did that. I wasn't surprised that she still loved me. I loved her as well. But that she would give me the long hug and say that almost as if she expected never to see me again. I, of course, didn't understand. She was saying her last goodbye. I just didn't realize. Never understood that she was that close to dying. For me, there were so many things left unsaid. So many things that tear me up inside because I was never able to tell her. There is no physical pain that can be worse than knowing you have things that have been left unsaid. Nowadays, I make sure to say I love you to my daughters multiple times per day. I figure it is better to be a lifetime early than even a second too late. None of us really know when we are going to take our last breath. Any of us could die tomorrow. Thus it's better to make sure that you say those things you feel to the people around you. Express love to your loved ones. Friendship to your friends and appreciation for those who help to make your life a better place. You never know when there will be no tomorrow. I learned this lesson a little too late. Don't let it happen to you. They say the early bird gets the worm. To be honest, I think that bird gets peace of mind! A writer that I read daily wrote something that got me thinking today. He wrote "I want to know why you got separated from your spouse. People always say, “It was amicable.” No it wasn’t. Don’t lie. Tell me. Please." Funny that this line hit so close to home for me, since he wasn't really writing about relationships. He was writing about his curiosity and just giving an example of what he finds interesting sometimes.
His name is James Altucher, and he regularly lays his thoughts out for all to see. He writes about the good things in his life and the bad, but his writing usually has a point to it. I like that. Well, his quote above got me thinking because after I got my divorce I sometimes told people I didn't know well that our divorce was amicable... It wasn't really. And so, without further ado, I'll tell the story. My wife and I got a divorce in 2011. In a nutshell, our divorce was caused by addiction. My wife and I first started dating in July, 1999. She was 23 and I was 33. We had known each other for a few months prior to starting dating. She had been married, but her husband had died. We started chatting at a party and when we started talking she told me he had died a couple of months prior. We really hit it off and started dating soon after. About two weeks after we started dating, Sharon told me she was an alcoholic and asked me to help her stop. I gave up drinking on that day, and have not had another drink since. My wife, on the other hand, was never able to give up alcohol for any great length of time. In fact, her longest time sober was when my first daughter was born. She stopped for about two years then... the nine months during the pregnancy and an additional 18 months while she was breast feeding. Soon after, her parents came from England to visit her and the stress of the visit, coupled with depression started her drinking again. Over the years, we went to AA meetings, in-patient re-habs, outpatient programs, Psychiatrists psychologists, and to numerous social workers. None of them could do it for her, and she just couldn't do it for herself. Sharon was a sneak drinker, and Madison was young, so she never realized that her mommy had a problem in the early years. By age seven, this was changing. (I worked from home on and off starting in 2001, and then started my own business in 2003, so I was home to make sure Maddie was safe.) Sharon was not a social drinker and had a tendency to drink quickly but heavily when no one was around to see her. She was very hard to catch, and only regular sweeps of our house and property kept some sort of limit on her drinking. Her tolerance was very high, and she could go for long periods where she fooled me into thinking she was sober. Even so, Maddie knew from a very early age that she was not allowed to drive with Mommy. Daddy did the driving whenever Maddie was going out with us. But I digress. In 2009, Sharon and I decided to have another baby. Sharon's drinking had been getting progressively worse and she thought that she would stop if she got pregnant. Maddie was seven, and by this time she already knew about Mommy's drinking problem. Sharon started lying about the drinking to Maddie, something she never thought she would do. It scared her, and she thought that the pregnancy would force her to stop since she would never willingly drink with a baby inside her. Unfortunately, she was unable to stop. At one point, she was found unconscious in the parking lot at our dojo, and we called an ambulance for her. Believe it or not, we thought it was anemia having to do with the pregnancy. In fact, the doctor at the emergency room actually said that is what it was. After speaking to her at the hospital, though, I began to suspect that she had been drinking and I told the nurse to tell the doctor that she was an alcoholic and that I believe she had been drinking. He tested her blood alcohol content and found she had a .42! This is well above the legal limit of .08. The doctor was stunned. He had had a conversation with Sharon and she had been coherent, so he never even thought to check her for alcohol use. He was astounded that she could even talk at that level of inebriation. At that time, he told me he couldn't tell me if there had been any damage to the fetus, but he thought that it was likely. I was crushed! After that Sharon was charged with drunk driving and I plea bargained with the DA before her court appearance. I told him to tell the judge that I would have her plead guilty and that I would pay all fines at the maximum rate as long as he court-ordered that she enter an in-patient rehab facility. Sharon would never willingly go for an in-house program. In fact, I could barely get her to go to an AA meeting. She was 7-months pregnant and I figured that an inpatient program was the safest thing for the baby. The judge did even better than that. Not only did he court order the in-patient program (and take her license) but he lowered her fines to the minimum that he could, since I was paying for the in-patient program out of my pocket. Sharon entered a program at Phoenix House in Keene. She did well, and it ended about two weeks before she was due to give birth. Unfortunately, Sharon got drunk again on the first night she was back and fell and broke her ankle. I had swept the house and knew it was clean. She had somehow gotten alcohol in Keene and brought it back with her in her bags from the in-patient facility. The doctor recommended that she have a cesarean birth the next day, to help protect the baby. Ashleigh was born on January 18, 2010, two weeks premature and suffering from alcohol withdrawal. She spent the first nine hours of her life in an oxygen tent. At that point, I felt Sharon was too dangerous to be around the girls and I pressed child neglect charges against her. I brought Ashleigh home alone when she was four days old, and I have raised her and Maddie ever since. At that point, I had no intention of divorcing my wife. Sharon went back into in-house therapy, and we tried to get her drinking under control. At one point, (in July) the courts allowed Sharon to come back to live in our home, but she quickly began drinking again. One night, when I called the police to help me with Sharon, (she eventually passed out right in front of the police man), he recommended that I go in the morning and get an ex-parte separation. This would allow me to continue to live in the home, while limiting her access to it. Without that, the police could not remove her from the home since she was legally allowed to live there and drink. I had her taken to the emergency room that night, and first thing in the morning I hired a lawyer and got an exparte separation. Given the circumstances (the child neglect charges, the history of alcoholism and alcohol related arrests, we were only in front of the judge for five minutes. In all, Sharon's stay in our home lasted about three weeks. We paid for a one-bedroom apartment for Sharon and we continued to see doctors and social workers to try and get her to stop drinking. It was at this point, that one of the psychologists told us that Sharon was actually suffering from Addictive personality disorder. (Sharon had eating disorders that we were trying to deal with and other things as well. After ten years of seeing doctors and psychologists, one finally hit on the fact that all of her compulsions were tied together. Sharon continued to drink and I eventually filed for divorce. Of course, there were other things impacting that decision. It's just none of your business. Two years after our divorce, Sharon drank herself to death. She developed esophageal varacies in 2011, continued to drink. After a two week stay in the hospital in a coma, her life support was removed and she died in my arms. Of course, there is more to the story than that. I write about Sharon from time to time. If you look through the archives, you can likely piece together a lot of the story. Some things I just won't or can't write about though. Sometimes, I wish I didn't know... and sometimes, it is better not to know. So, while the divorce wasn't amicable, in time, we both realized that it was the best thing for our girls. Sometimes we need to think about things other than ourselves. Sharon missed our daughters dearly when she was away from them. But because she could not stop her drinking, it was safest that she did not live with us. With that said, our divorce led to a lot of heartbreak, but was the best thing for our daughters. Now that I have written this, I think it is just best to say that our divorce was painful, and just leave it at that. This is a quote from the ancient poet Rumi, and oh how true it is. I have to say that for a majority of the day, I've been reading through this guy's quotes- he was a very wise man and I strongly advise you go read some of his writings if you get the chance. However, I could only pick one for this blog post and I went with the one above because I so strongly agree with it.
Right off the bat, I'm going to take "goodbye" as being a notion to death. I suppose this quote could be applied to long distance relationships and such too, but for the sake of simplicity I will use death as the example for this post. I personally believe that death is one of the most traumatic things a person can go through- that and watching loved ones suffer. In my short lifespan, I've already lost 3 family members; one being my mother. I can tell you from experience, it is one of the worst feelings in the world... particularly when you feel you've lacked closure. However, while I got some closure and a chance to say goodbye to my mom, I don't think it's the last time we'll encounter each other. I don't know what the afterlife is or if it exists, but I know that her spirit still exists somewhere. And as long as her spirit exists, I have a firm belief that we will meet again. I still have memories and photos, and my love for her is no less than when she was alive. So I suppose Rumi is right- for those who love with heart and soul, there is no separation- even if the eyes can no longer see the person. Regardless of what happens in the aftermath, memories live on through those you have touched and loved and those who have loved you. And that is comforting enough to me that I do not fear death. -- Maddie It's funny how the mind works. Every once in a while you'll hear an old song in a new light. It happened to me today. The song "Question" by the Moody Blues came on. I have known and liked this song for decades. I saw the Moody Blues in concert once back in the late '80's or early 90's (who can remember dates!). And yet, I saw the song in a whole new light today! For those of you who don't know it, the song is about the choices young men had to make during the Vietnam War. The writer, Justin Heyward, always said that the song was actually two songs he put together to make one. Well, when it came on the playlist today on my iPad there was one part that really made me feel a deep sense of loss. I'll quote it below and then give my thoughts on it afterward. If you don't know the song, I just posted it on my facebook page. Feel free to go listen to it there, or just look it up on youtube. "Between the silence of the mountains And the crashing of the sea, There lies a land I once lived in And she's waiting there for me. But in the grey of the morning My mind becomes confused, Between the dead and the sleeping, And the road that I must choose. I'm looking for Someone to change my life. I'm looking for A miracle in my life! And if you could see, What it's done to me To lose the love I knew, Could safely lead me to The land that I once knew... To learn as we grow old The secrets of our soul." To me, these are the words of someone who has suffered a great loss. They immediately made me think about my wife and how much I miss her. How sometimes upon waking in the morning I feel like she had been there resting with me, but that it is now time for me to return to the land of the living.
In the end, I think we are all looking for miracles. The one person who can bring happiness back into our lives. The only thing is, that that person is already here for all of us. There is no need to find them. We are it. Only you can control how you respond to life. You are the maker of your own reality. You can make it happy or sad.. Most of us let our reality bounce around so much that we don't realize the control we have over our own happiness. Still, life is better when its shared. Wanting someone new to enter your life is not a bad thing. As long as you don't make it the only thing. I chose the silence of the mountains, over the crashing of the sea... and that is part of how, I bring happiness to me. "“A lot of people get so hung up on what they can't have that they don't think for a second about whether they really want it.” That's a quote by Lionel Shriver. Believe it or not, Lionel is a woman. She was a tomboy when she was younger and decided to change her name from Margaret to Lionel because she thought the more masculine name was more fitting for her.
Not much for me to say about Lionel, I have never read any of her material and I didn't know she existed until I read her quote. I liked the quote, though, and it got me thinking. I get hung up sometimes... not so much about what I can't have, but what might have been...which I guess IS the same thing after all. A lot of times, I will be sitting around working or listening to music, and something will inevitably remind me of my wife. A memory will be triggered and I will feel a deep well of sadness as I think of the good times we had at one time or another, and then I miss her. At those times, I fail to remember the problems we had and how her illness impacted the entire family. It's the second part of the quote that really got me to thinking tonight. I heard a song and thought of my wife and really missed her. Then I read the quote and I thought "if my wife was still alive, would I be having those feelings right now?" And to be honest, the answer was no. Not because I didn't love my wife, or because I no longer love her, but because before my wife died, I had divorced her to protect my daughters. My wife's alcoholism was out of control (it ended up killing her) and she could not be around my children without another adult present. I brought my youngest daughter, Ashleigh, home from the hospital when she was four days old, and I have raised her on my own until my Mom came to live with us in 2013. My wife spent some of that time in and out of rehab facilities, but mainly was out on her own drinking. Don't get me wrong, my wife loved our daughters. She was just not physically or mentally able to stop her addiction until it eventually took her life. She died of esophageal varices. Scarring, or cirrhosis of the liver is the most common cause of esophageal varices. This scarring cuts down on blood flowing through the liver. As a result, more blood flows through the veins of the esophagus. The extra blood flow causes the veins in the esophagus to balloon outward. Heavy bleeding can occur if the veins break open. Well, Sharon's veins broke open on at least two occasions. The second one that I know of killed her. Sharon already had a damaged liver when we met in 1999. She died in 2013. Ashleigh was born in January, 2010. Sharon's descent into oblivion really rolled into place in 2009, soon after she had become pregnant with Ashleigh. She couldn't stop drinking during the pregnancy. Although this likely sounds hollow, I did not know the extent of Sharon's drinking and its impact on her until she was already pregnant with Ashleigh. I knew she had still been drinking before we decided to have a second child, but she believed that the pregnancy would force her to quit again, as she did when she was pregnant with Madison. Unfortunately, this time she couldn't do it. To protect the baby, we put Sharon into an in-house rehab program at Phoenix House in Keene while she was pregnant to help keep her sober during her pregnancy. She completed the program, but started drinking immediately after she came out of the program, about two weeks prior to when she was to give birth to Ashleigh. She got drunk and broke her ankle on the first night she was home from the rehab. She had gotten the booze in Keene prior to me picking her up at the rehab facility. When we got home, I never thought to look in her bag she had brought from the facility since I picked her up from the facility, and brought her directly home. My daughter was born two weeks premature and with alcohol withdrawal. They sent me home with her at four days old. She was underweight, and needed to be fed every half an hour for the first two weeks of her life. Somehow, I did it while looking for a nanny to help me with the baby, while also taking care of Madison who was eight, and still somehow doing some work for my business. I literally had no sleep for the first four days. On day four, one of the travelling nurses who visited me to make sure the baby was doing okay, called me back that afternoon and offered to watch the girls for me in my house, while I caught some sleep. She came over, and I slept for eight hours. To this day, I still believe that angels sometimes walk among us, and come to help us in our hour of need. Soon after, I hired a nanny and things improved a little bit. For the next three years, my daughters and I struggled with Sharon's illness, I don't want to go into what we all went through. (By all I include Sharon, because she was suffering as well. She was ill, and she was missing her little girls. The emptiness only added to the stresses that triggered her drinking.) Looking back now, it seems like our days were filled with policemen, ambulances, hospitals, lawyers, doctor's visits, court visits, and of course, drunken interludes by Sharon. To this day, when an ambulance passes us in either Rindge or Jaffrey Maddie and I look at each other. When Sharon was alive, we looked at each other because we wondered if it was Mom being brought to the hospital again (oftentimes, it was). Now, we just look at each other just to silently say we remember. I can no longer see an ambulance without thinking of my wife... even though she has now been dead for three years. So anyway, what about the quote? When the song played tonight, and I thought about my wife, I realize that she is dead and can't come back. I recognize that, yet I still remember our good memories. The bad ones I mentioned above, I try not to think of any more. Yet soon after those good memories hit, I read the above quote and I thought: "If Sharon could come back, just the way she was, would you want her to come back?" And my answer to myself was no, I wouldn't. Because although I have a tendency to remember our good times together, if I think deeper, I remember all of the unhealthy things that my daughters saw and experienced. And I would never want to expose them to that again! Ashleigh was very young then, and barely remembers her Mom. She did not understand any of the bad things that went on, and I'd like to keep it that way until she is older, and inevitably asks me about her Mom. Maddie does remember, though, and I never want to expose her to anything so tragic and psychologically damaging again. To wit, be careful what you sometimes long for, because not everything you might want or miss is good for you or your loved ones around you. Sorry for the long, weird post... But it's what was going through my mind tonight, and sometimes I need to think out an explanation for myself. "Knowledge is the eye of desire, and can become the pilot of the soul." That gem is by Will Durant. I actually had to look this guy up because I really had no clue about who he was. Turns out he was a writer, historian and philosopher. The combination likely makes for a long-winded read. In fact, his most famous work ran to eleven volumes and was written over four decades. Yikes!
Anyway, back to the quote. When I originally looked at the quote, I was just going to paraphrase it and say "Knowledge is the pilot of the soul." I changed my mind for two reasons. First, I started to think about what he was saying and apply it to my own life, and I noticed that oftentimes does lead the soul about. Anyone who has ever been happily married likely knows what I am talking about here. Secondly, my daughter Maddie usually complains if I write about the soul or say anything that has religious connotations. I must say that I am very interested in the existence (or non-existence) of souls, although I don't necessarily think that my interest is due to any religious fervor on my part. Overall, I suspect that we have souls, although, even after thinking about it, I can't tell you why I actually believe it. Some of it is likely actually the hope that I will one day be able to be with my wife again. She died two years ago and I miss her dearly. Sometimes the hope of being able to see her again when it is my time is all that keeps me from falling into a well of sadness. A second reason for my belief is that I have had a number of personal experiences where things have happened to me that I just can't understand. These things are small, and personal, yet they have had a large impact on my thinking. Clinically, I am sure much of what I have experienced could be called minor hallucinations brought on by stress. And I can accept that answer, for some of them. For other things, though, I find it hard to accept that answer though. And thus, like a moth to a flame I am drawn to studies and articles about souls and psyches, and the impact of memories on our day to day lives. For me, it seems that the desire for knowledge is the pilot of my soul. I truly want to understand what I have experienced, and to do that I need to be able to compare it to other people's experiences. Unfortunately, there are a lot of charlatans out there. Some books and movies that have been produced that many people believed to be true, were later said to be hoaxes by one of the people involved. To sum it up, knowledge for me is not the eye of desire. Instead, the desire for knowledge is the pilot of my soul. It's a little different than the way the quote was actually written, but for me, it is a lot more correct and meaningful. "Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable." Okay, I hope my headline fooled you into thinking I was going to quote Frank Sinatra. Nope, this is a quote that I can't quite place. I like it though, and I thought it was worth a word or two.
I have had some regrets in my day... a little of each of them. And I must say that the first type of regret does evaporate over time. Meanwhile, the second type can be tricky. Sometimes you get a second chance to do them. Sometimes you don't. For most things, that's okay. But not for all things. For instance, never not tell someone you love that you love them. No matter how mad you may be at them at the time, or how much in a rush you are, make sure to take a moment and tell them that you love them. You never know when someone you love is going to die. We all have this thought in our heads that we will see everybody tomorrow. That is not always the case. Sometimes, the next time you see them, they may be in a coma. Or even dead. It's a little late to tell them how much you love them then. In fact, because this happened to me, I can tell you that it feels a little hollow. You wonder if they know you are there in the first place, let alone that they have heard what you had to say. DO NOT LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOU. I can tell you, this really sucks. And it will stick with you for years. If you love someone, make sure you tell them that. Not just once in a blue moon, but every time you see them. It doesn't have to be in an overly dramatic or mushy way... Just a quick "I love you babe, as you give them a kiss good bye. For one day, it really will be your final good bye, Think about it. Make it a habit. And mean it. This is one regret you can definitely prevent. Not everyone warrants a last goodbye. But if you truly love the person, then you definitely need to make sure that you have said your final goodbye. Not only will it help them be at peace with you, but it will help you to be at peace with yourself! A wise man learns from other people's mistakes and doesn't have to experience the same circumstance to learn from it. This is one lesson that I truly wish I learned from somebody else. Be wise, learn this lesson from me. Tell the people you love that you love them every time you see them. Not only will this help you and them feel good while you and they are alive, it will make sure that you will always feel okay no matter what happens. Learn this lesson NOW! Do not wait to learn it through your own experience! I regret that I had to learn this lesson first hand. Never again! "Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye." H. Jackson Brown said that. If you ever wonder where I find all of these neat quotes. I get them Here: www.brainyquote.com. Although you can find quotes all over the web, I find this site has a nice selection and is easy to search through. You can search by topic or by author. I usually search by topic.
For today's quote, I used love as the topic. Why? I don't know. Sometimes I feel like the topics I choose are a little too somber or serious. Originally, I was looking for something humorous or light, but then I found the above quote. I thought about this quote for a little while before I decided to write about it...trying to figure out whether or not it was true. I think that it may be true. My wife was a beautiful woman and many people would think that with her problems, I likely chose her for her looks. This wasn't the case though. You see, my wife was married when I first met her, and I just saw her as one of the secretaries around the office. I lived along the shore in New Jersey when I was younger and a number of the guys from the office had chipped in and got a beach house in Long Branch. Given that I lived only 20 minutes from their house, I hung out with them all the time. One weekend, we were throwing a party at their house and many of the secretaries around the office were coming. Sharon knew about the party, but she hadn't been invited. I felt a little bad about that and invited her to come, telling her to bring whoever she wanted (meaning her husband was invited also). I did not expect her to come, but I wanted her to feel like she was part of the office anyway even if she couldn't make it. What I didn't know at that point was that her husband had died a few months before. I was really surprised when she showed up at the party that weekend around 9:30 in the evening. She had brought another one of the secretaries from Merrill, along with an Indian guy. When the guy went to get drinks for the ladies I casually said to her, oh, I didn't know your husband was Indian. She laughed and said he wasn't, her husband had died a few months back. I had never known. Well, one thing led to another, and we started dating that night. Still it wasn't a case of love at first site. I liked Sharon and realized she was very pretty, but I didn't fall in love with her until a couple weeks later once she read me her poetry. The raw power and emotion in her poetry spoke to me. The fact that she was willing to share it with me also made me feel a great attachment to her. I fell in love. About three weeks after that, she moved in with me. We were married six months later. Her poetry spoke to me, and my heart realized that I loved the beautiful girl who was reciting it to me. Sometimes our hearts do know what is invisible to the eye. I did know of Sharon's drinking problem before we got married. I married her anyway, figuring we would beat it together. It didn't work out that way. Sharon was ten years younger than me. I always figured it would be her holding me while I lay dying...when we were both old and grey. Instead, I held her as her life ebbed away while we were both young enough not to have too many grey hairs yet (I had many more than her). Sometimes the heart can see what is invisible to the eye. Other times, love is blind. My love was blind to the severity of the problems Sharon had, but my heart could see the beauty within her soul. My two daughters remind me of her daily. A look, a turn of the word, their talents, all remind me of Sharon. What my eyes don't consciously see, my heart knows. Well, so much for having a humorous post. Maybe tomorrow. "It is better to have a heart without words than words without a heart." Mahatma Gandhi said that one. Actually, it is a small part of a long-winded quote, which I really didn't feel like dealing with this evening. And anyway, the small part I quoted is really a good rule for living, if you really think about it.
Have you ever said something that you later came to regret? Or said, something that, while true, was very hurtful to someone and that really didn't need to be said in the first place? If so, whether it was about a very small subject or a life changing moment, those are still examples of words without a heart. Meanwhile, if you ever had your heart aching to tell someone something, but you could not find the right words to actually express how you feel, then that is an example of having a heart with no words. I have experienced both sides of that coin over the years, and I can tell you from experience that they both suck. If you ever experience the feeling of a heart without words, I recommend you find someone you can confide in that may be able to help you to find those words. Take it from me, IT IS IMPORTANT!!! We all think that there will be another day to express our feelings to the ones we love. It's not always true. In Genesis, it says " For you were made from dust, and to dust you will return." Believe me, you'd be surprised how quickly people can whither and die in your life. Your heart without words will come back to haunt you if you never act to find the words. If you take one idea from this post, make it the idea that a heart without words can torment you if you wait too long to find the words, or if you find the words and then decide to keep them to yourself until you find a better time to say them. A heart without words can quickly turn into a broken heart, or a heart of sadness. On the flip side, never say words out of anger only. If you know something you are going to say is going to hurt, and you truly love or respect (or both) the person you are going to say it to, then think twice about saying it. Is that one moment of satisfaction or triumph worth the pain you are going to unleash? Remember, just because something is true does not mean that it won't hurt the other person. Try and let your heart guide you in affairs of the heart. Let your head guide you in the logic of your actions. Usually logic will and can win out in both situations. Unfortunately, there will be times when you are emotionally hurt and your logic won't always win out. That is when you need your heart to do your speaking for you. NOT your emotions. Your inner feelings are from the heart. If the feelings seem to be emanating from your head, then that is an emotion. In general, your heart can express love, not like and sadness, not anger or vengeful feelings. Compassion comes from your heart. Revenge and tit for tat from your mind. All said, a heart without words is a call to find the words. Words without heart is a fool's errand. Love deeply. Forgive the small and inconsequential. Know yourself. And express your true feelings from the heart only. This is a part of a quote someone wrote about an acid trip they had been on. Although I wasn't really interested in his trip, the above phrase really stuck out at me. At first, I thought the answer to the implied question was easy. Words were a form of communication, while silence was, well, really quiet! But then I started thinking about it. Sometimes silence can convey as much meaning as words. I started thinking about the last hours of my wife's life. She was dying in the hospital and was in an induced coma. She could hear what was going on around her at times, I knew, because I saw her react to things that I said, and actually try to open her eyes when my daughter came to visit her. There was so much I wanted to say to her as she lay there dying...but I didn't. I held her for six hours, yet I didn't say more than a few words to her. I held her in my arms until she died. I was afraid to say too much to her because I did not want to wake her up enough so that she knew what was happening to her. I didn't want her to know that my heart was breaking, that Maddie and Ashleigh were now going to grow up without a mother, or even that her parents had already left to go back to England. I did want her to know four things though, that I told her within the first few minutes of my vigil. My promises to her and my love for her. After that, there was over five hours of silence between us. Yet in that time, communication still occurred. I held her as lovingly as you can, while one is in a hospital bed, and the other is just kneeling on a chair next to the bed. I put my arm around her shoulders and let her head rest between the pillow and my shoulder. I tried not to move too much, because I did not want to jostle her out of unconsciousness. After three hours, I needed to pee badly. But I still did not move, because I thought she could go at any moment. You see, no one had told me that when you took someone off of a ventilator, they could live for hours. I hope that she somehow knew I was embracing her and that I wasn't going to let her die alone. I truly want to believe that at some point, she knew I was there with her. Words can sometimes fail us...but an embrace cannot be faked. At least not for six hours anyway. The whole time I held my wife, her eyes were closed, as if she was sleeping peacefully. The violence of her breathing belied the reality behind that picture though. When my wife finally passed away, I gave her a kiss and got up to go. I couldn't really walk yet because my legs had been in one position for too long. Instead, I stood there and answered a question the nurse asked me from across at the nurses station. I only looked towards the door for a moment, but when I looked back, Sharon's eyes were open. Now I know that muscles relax with death, and that it was an involuntary reaction. Yet her eyes seemed to be looking right at me. Were they accusing me? Were they thanking me? I don't know. My wife was already dead. I like to think that God was giving her one last look at me, before she began the long wait to see me again in heaven. The silence in the room was palpable. I mumbled "good bye my love", feeling a great well of sadness that never really goes away, and I then went out of the room. Sometimes, silence is the only way to convey a thought or action. Other times it is not. When Maddie was young, I sang to her often. Nowadays, I sing to Ashleigh. And she sings back to me. Maddie has outgrown my singing for the most part. Every once in a while, I will sing the song I made up for her to her anyway. I have made up very similar songs for both of my girls. I have also combined them to make one song to convey my feeling for both of them. The songs allow me to convey my love for my girls in a fun way without being smothering. I sing them to myself sometimes as I think back on little things I have done with one girl or the other in the past. Ashleigh gets a song nearly every time we go to karate alone together. The words, in this instance convey the message. It's a message that I never want them to forget. My daughters are growing up fast now. And I am growing older. In less than a decade, my eldest daughter will be leaving my home to start her own family. That is the reality of life. And yet I will continue to sing my Maddie song. As I did last night, and again today. I sing it to myself...or the Ashleigh song, when my spirits need a lift. Sometimes I sing it out loud, but usually in my head. I hope I have sung it enough so that somewhere in the back of their minds, they will remember them. Remember it, and recognize it. So one day, when they are well into their nineties, (at least) hopefully, they will recognize that song and not be afraid as they follow it back to its source in heaven where I will be singing it to welcome them home, and our family can be together again for eternity. The Maddie Song
M-A-D-I-S-O-N Daddy loves Maddie Madison And who's my good girl Mad-i-son? Daddy loves Maddie Madison. Daddy loves Maddie, Daddy loves Maddie. Daddy loves Maddie Madison! And who's my good girl Madison? Daddy loves Maddie Madison And who's my good girl Mad-i-son? Daddy loves Maddie Madison. Daddy loves Maddie, Daddy loves Maddie. Daddy loves Maddie Madison! The Ashleigh Song Who's my good girl, Ash-e-leigh? Daddy loves little Ashleigh. And who's my good girl Ash-e-leigh? Daddy loves big girl Ashleigh! Ash-e-leigh Ash-e-leigh! Daddy loves Ashleigh, Daddy loves Ashleigh, Daddy loves big girl Ash-e-leigh! And who's my good girl Ash-e-leigh? Daddy loves big girl Ashleigh! Ash-e-leigh Ash-e-leigh! Daddy loves Ashleigh, Daddy loves Ashleigh, Daddy loves big girl Ash-e-leigh! The Sisters Song (this is Ashleigh's favorite) Who's my good girl Madison? Daddy loves Maddie Madison. And who's my good girl Ash-e-leigh? Daddy loves little Ashleigh. Mad-i-son! Ash-e-leigh! Daddy loves Maddie! And Daddy loves Ashleigh! Daddy loves both his little girls! And who's my good girl Ash-e-leigh? Daddy loves big girl Ashleigh! And who's my good girl Madison? Daddy loves Maddie Madison! Ash-e-leigh! Mad-i-son! Daddy loves Ashleigh! And Daddy loves Maddie! Daddy loves both his little girls! "Make a game plan and stick with it...unless its not working." That is known as a Yogi-ism. In other words, it's a quote by Yogi Berra. Yogi died yesterday at the age of 90. In case you've lived under a rock for the past 60 years or so, Yogi was a Hall of Fame catcher for the New York Yankees. He was an MVP three times, an all-star 18 times and he was on a team that won the World Series a record ten times! Even with all of these things, he was best known for his amusing quotes. On the surface, they were dopey, but underneath it they made a little bit of sense. He had a knack for making people feel at ease around him, even though he was the greatest catcher of his generation, and possibly the best Yankee catcher of all time (yes, including Thurmon Munson). In honor of his passing, I'd like to talk about Yogi's quote on making plans. Rest In Peace Yogi, although I was too young to ever have seen you play, I am a fan. Make a plan and stick with it. Many people would say that line and just leave it at that. But it's just not enough to make a plan and stick with it. you also have to apply the plan and be willing to change it if it becomes clear that it isn't working out. Being flexible, and knowing when to be flexible are key points that I think Yogi was trying to point out when he allegedly said that quote. Everyone has some type of plan...even if it is subconscious. We all know what we want to accomplish, yet we all don't know how to get where we want to go. By setting a plan, we can make a road map towards achieving our goals. A map will only bring us so far, though. We need to be able to follow the map to bring us where we want to go. Sometimes the journey will get difficult. At those times, we need to be able to recognize shortcuts that will help us to reach our goal. If the road we are on leads to a dead end, it is all right to take a side path that will lead us around the obstacle. Planning will help us to see the shortest route from point A to point B. Sometimes, it won't show us the bumpiness of the road, though. When the road gets rough, it only makes sense to find a smoother path to follow. I do not mean changing the destination, but changing HOW you get there. This is the beauty of Yogi's quote. Make a plan, but if it isn't working, be flexible enough to change the path you take to get there. That's what successful people do. They do not change their goal, they change how they get to their goal. The wisdom is in knowing the difference. "You're searching...For things that don't exist; I mean beginnings. Ends and Beginnings - there are no such things. There are only middles." That's a quote from one of my favorite poets. I am not going to tell you who it is. Look up the quote and learn something.
I seriously doubt that anyone will look it up. Maddie already knows who my favorite poet is, and the rest of you likely don't care. If you are of a mind to look it up, I'll give you fair warning, though. It is from a long poem...about 225 lines. And it is the best line in the poem. My next favorite line from the poem is: "New is a word for fools in towns who think style upon style in dress and thought at last must get somewhere." While it is not this poet's best poem, it sets a mood...an almost somber tone that stays with you long after you read the poem. And isn't that what a good poet does? Makes you think about what they are truly trying to say? To me, that is the bad thing about quotes. They can be taken out of context when they are read alone. While the poem has a "new" beginning in it and an end, the entire poem, in a rambling way is more about love and sacrifice, and changes intermingled with the familiar. In fact, there is so much going on in this poem...not in what is being said (which more often than not is quite mundane), but in what is not being said. The poet has used the mundane to express the feelings that are just under the surface...the things that are not being said. And THAT is what makes this poem beautiful to me. It is often THAT, which is unsaid, that makes up the story of one's life. The beauty of those unsaid moments would be marred if expressed as words. Have you ever asked someone who is truly smitten what it is that they see in the other person? If you have, you'll recognize that the reply likely didn't make any sense to you. And so that is the way of love. No one will ever truly recognize why you love someone. It is a feeling that can't really be put into words. Oftentimes, to put it into words makes it sound more base than it really is. You get the story or description from the middle...and never really get it from the beginning or to the end. When one lover dies, the other truly is left in the middle. For while the love surely had a beginning, no one can truly pinpoint when that moment was. At the same time, the love you feel for the deceased goes on well after their death...so you are left in the middle. And any new beginning will still be in the middle of those things left unsaid with the other. "Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye." This is clearly a question for the ages. Why is it that some people never leave your heart? Why is it that you can feel lonely in a room full of people, simply due to the absence of a specific person? How many times does a conversation, or a touch, or a look have to play over in your mind before it is finally enough?
What is it about memories that can make them a comfort at one moment and a torture at the next? I seem to have a lot of questions this morning, but a gray day can do that to you. Outside my window is a dichotomy of green and gray. The perfect colors to match my mood today. I feel lonely, yet I know that anyone I meet will not remove the emptiness that I feel at this moment. The gray symbolizes the quagmire that I seem to be swimming through sometimes. Meanwhile, the green looks like the horizon I am swimming towards. There's life there and treasures to find, if I can only reach it. We all have our own paths to follow in life. Sometimes, the paths lead into a swamp. The trick is, not to get stuck there. Slog through it and look forwards to the next landscape in your life. Remember, life is an adventure, and there are no goodbyes. Everyone that you meet and care to see again, you will... at the end of your journey. The more people you allow into your life, the grander the party in the next life. Outside my window, the sky is beginning to brighten. And I realize that a goodbye doesn't have to be an end...just an interlude. In the meantime, there are plenty more hellos left to say. You just need to put yourself in a position to say them. In the future, try to keep your goodbyes short and let your hellos linger. You'll get more out of life letting new people in, rather than fretting over past goodbyes. Both heaven and hell reside inside us. They exist in our memories and influence a lot of what we say do and think. Sometimes, they exist side by side within a single memory. Do you have any memories that bring you both pleasure and pain? I do. And I can tell you they are the worst level of hell.
For me, it was the hours leading up to my wife's death. Sharon was in a coma and was dying. After they removed the life support, I held her in my arms until she passed away. I held her for six hours. I didn't want her to die alone. I didn't want her to feel afraid or feel abandoned. I was afraid to get up to go to the bathroom, because I did not want her to die while I was away taking a leak. I tried not to move her too much or shift my position because I didn't want her to wake up and realize what was happening to her and be afraid. I also didn't want her to see the horror on my face that she was dying. I didn't want her to know that it was killing a part of me too. If you never experienced something like that, I can tell you it is pure hell. And it doesn't go away. It stays with you and comes back up in your memories constantly. It makes you feel down, it brings grief at almost any moment. It ties into other memories as well and makes them worse... I remember the moment that Sharon died. I knew before the machine went off to alert the nurse. I was holding her and I heard a popping noise and just past her left shoulder I saw a bright light, which seemed to shoot out towards the hallway just on the other side of the privacy curtain. The nurse yelled to me that she had just died (an alarm went off at the nurses station), and I told her I knew. I got up then, and moved away from the bed. I stood for a moment looking at Sharon, feeling pity, grief, and the aches and pains from muscles that hadn't moved a lot in the past six hours. Sharon's eyes were closed. Mine were open. The nurse called to me from the nurses station asking me if I was going to be okay. I turned my head towards the hallway and said yes. It only took a moment, but when I turned back, Sharon's eyes were open. It looked like she was looking right at me. That moment also stays with me. It wasn't scary. It was like she was taking one last look at me. Was that look accusing? Thankful? Sorrowful? I'll never know. My rational mind tells me that muscles relax in death and that it was just a natural thing...but my unconscious mind still tries to put a meaning to the event So there is the hell. Where's heaven's grasp on that memory? I take solace in the fact that my wife didn't die alone. I spoke with her and prayed for her during that time. Aside from what she died from, I can think of no better way to die than in the arms of a person who loves you. I hope, when it is my turn to die, that her spirit comes back and holds me while I slip into the great beyond. When these memories start to overwhelm me, I try to think of all of the good things that came from our relationship. I think of my daughters, or our walk along the beach on the night we started dating. I think of fall days along the canal in Jersey or antiquing in rustic towns in Pennsylvania. I think of holding hands and the trace of an English accent that I could always hear no matter how much she tried to hide it. Heaven conquers hell and I can go on with my day. In Dante's Inferno, he writes of nine circles of hell and tells who he meets there. I think he was wrong on that. I think there are multiple levels of hell and no one lives there. Instead, we carry these little pockets of hell along with us while we live. It seems easy to add new levels, but much harder to erase them. At the same time, we also carry little bits of heaven along with us as well. We get to see them through our family, friends, and pets...or even while we are out alone in the woods. We live in our minds, and we meld our own destinies. Could there be real heaven and hells? Certainly! But we are all going to have to wait until we pass to see what they are like. "If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me." I made those beautiful words by Led Zeppelin part of my wedding vow to Sharon. I meant them when I said them. And yet, before my wife passed away, I had divorced her. Did this mean I didn't love her? At first Sharon thought so (although this wasn't the case). Soon after we separated, and were in the process of getting a divorce she wrote a poem where she stated: "Promises, Promises, The vows, the lies you made, Before God you once stood, But now, the black and white fade" We got the divorce to protect the children. I still loved Sharon, but her behavior was starting to have an impact on Maddie and her blackouts and drinking to the point of unconsciousness was a very real danger for Ashleigh. But I digress, I wanted to write about my vow and how my actions did not break those sentiments. To start, love has no boundaries. You do not need to be right next to someone to love them. Whether a person's next to me, or across the country, I still have the ability to love them. Whether someone lives with me...or not, I can love them.
Although mountains have not crumbled to the sea, there is still she and me. I see her in my daughters every day as they go about their lives. I hear her when they speak to me. There is a little part of each of us in both of our daughters. Although Sharon has died, there will always be a part of her that lives on, through our children and theirs and so on until our bloodline ends. Will it be until mountains crumble to the sea? I hope so. The vow that bothers me... the one I may have inadvertently broke, is the whole in sickness and in health thing. I have thought about this a lot over the past couple of years. On the surface, it would seem that I broke this part of my vow... to stay with Sharon through sickness and in health. Like an iceberg, though, there is more to this vow than just what you see on the surface. By having children together, Sharon and I took on the responsibility to raise our children and keep them safe. When Sharon got too sick (addicted), and became a danger to our children, we still had our joint responsibility to keep our children safe. Since Sharon could no longer do that, the responsibility fell to me to do what was right for the both of us so that we could fulfill our responsibilities. I believe I have done that, and will continue to do that, as I promised my wife. Sometimes life leaves us no "good" choices. In those instances, we need to pick the choice that will do the most good, and not just the choice that is most convenient, or easy for us. "If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me." I meant it when I said it Babe, and it still holds true now. Rest in peace. Oh my goshhhh. I think this quote is something that everyone in the world needs to hear. No matter who you are or what your situation is, we've all had something happen in life that we need to move on from or get over and some of us have a hard time doing it. I understand the struggle of doing it completely- my mom died 2 years ago and I'm still depressed about it right now. The pain of something like that... it never leaves. Ever. A little piece of that is going to be with you for the rest of your life, just as the person is, and there is nothing you can do to escape that.
However, that doesn't mean you should let sadness dominate your life forever. Yes, while things are initially going on, you're going to be upset... but you need to move on. I've managed to move on from my mom's death (for the most part) and I'd like to share the advice I followed myself that helped me a lot. This advice can be applied to most situations. Only a few are directed towards people who are dealing solely with the pain of losing someone.
I hope this post helped you... or anyone you may know. Maddie I love this quote so much. It's so relevant... for everyone, really. I don't care WHO you are, everyone has gotten caught up in the past or over-thinking the future. The quote is so accurate and truly puts life in perspective. You should enjoy each day for what it is... not what you hope it may become. You never know when your last day will arrive, and it may be far quicker than you expect. Life has a funny way of throwing twists at us when we least expect it. I've learned the "tomorrow may never come" segment of this quote through my mom's sudden death two years ago. We all knew she was sick, but we all thought she could get better and didn't expect her death. It was quite sudden and a very upsetting time for all of us.
As for "yesterday is gone"..? I've also mastered this aspect of the quote. I have an easy time letting go of the past, surprisingly enough, and I've managed to move on past a lot that has happened in my life; including my mother's death. It's an art of letting go, to be honest. Once you learn that the past is the past and there is NOTHING you can do to change it, no matter how much you want to... things get easier. Acceptance is key. You need to take life (and death, for that matter) for what they are. There is no way around it; we all die. It's better to accept the death of loved ones and move on from it. Appreciate them for who they were and how they impacted your life and accept that they are gone. You can't bring them back. While it's going to be painful, it can be gotten over and it is necessary so that you can continue living YOUR life. As for the first part, about enjoying life today... that is the one piece of this quote that I need help with. I too often take life for granted and sometimes fail to notice the small patches of happiness and joy in life. One of my life rules is to always try to find the happiness and beauty in the small things, but sometimes I forget to and I really need to work on that more. My mom had a knack for noticing the beauty in simple things, and she DID pass that gift on to both me and my sister. I just need to learn to use it more. But hey... no one's perfect. We all have aspects of our life to work on, whether they are mentioned in the quote or not. I just happened to like the quote, which is why I wrote about it. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did and hopefully learned something from it. Maddie |
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