Therapy...Mustang Style

What seems like not that long ago, like yesterday in so many ways, yet like 17 lifetimes ago in others, I was the owner of a Mustang.  Red.  Two door.  As Mustangs tend to do, it sounded good, and the power, even when not taken advantage of fully, was nice.  Ok, and...it sounded good.  (Just wanted to make sure you got the important part....)  I've written many a blog post about said car, and created many a scrapbook page about it, too...but they all said just about the same thing, and I'm going to recap it again, now, only I'm also going to add to the story.

It's no secret that my son and I are a lot alike.  That we have spent a lot of time together, he and I, or that we've grown together over the years.  If you were to ask us at different times, in different places, without us knowing the other's answer, we would both tell you that our time in the Mustang, windows down, radio up, singing at the top of our lungs while playing "honk and wave" was among our top favorite activities...if not THE top favorite.  We did a lot of talking, sang a lot of songs, and did a whole lot of smiling in that car while we covered the miles...boy, did we ever.  We grew up together, Kevin and I, and we talked and talked and talked, about everything under the sun, and about nothing, and we did this all at the same time.  Sometimes, we had words, sometimes, we didn't.  Sometimes, a look was all we needed to convey our thoughts, others, a touch.  A word spoken between us could actually tell a whole story, or it could cause the other to laugh hysterically with no outward appearance to anyone else as to why said word was funny.  We have a connection, us two, that is unbreakable.  He is the only person in the world that can know when something is wrong with me, even if I try my best to hide it.  In front of him, I cannot hold it together, try as I might.  On a bad day, I will hear from him, out of the blue....yes, we have a connection.

The memories we made in that car, the fun times, the sad times, the talky times, the quiet times, they all came rolling back to me tonight, as we sat, roles reversed in a Mustang, music up, windows down, singing at the tops of our lungs.  I pondered on the fact that I was in the passenger seat; he was driving me around!  The problems we spoke of were not about a high ball that should have been a strike, or about the steel that didn't quite happen, or the fact that someone was apologizing for someone else yelling for some reason throughout the day.  No, these problems were of a different variety, the grown-up kind, the kind you can't make better by saying, "better luck next time" or "rub a little dirt on it"....these are not fixed with band aids and kisses.  These talks can only be prayed about, pondered upon, and prayed for some more.  Such adult topics, why?  I want to talk about baseball again!  I don't want our time to be tainted with bittersweet, with sadness, with irony!!!!!  I just want it to be us, happy and free, smiling and singing, but it will never be again that way.  But if I were to have to share the night, the events, the news, it would be in this fashion that I would choose....wrapped up in a car with someone I love, who loves me back, leaning on each other for sanity as we try to deal with the topics at hand, and knowing that if nothing else is true and real, our love for each other is, and will always be until the end of time.

May our next "session" be one of happy tears and of joy!

The School of Life

Sometimes, I have rough days.  Sometimes, I have rough weeks, and sometimes, thankfully not often-times, I have *really* rough days...or weeks.  I don't know why I am that way, but I can usually recognize it as it comes on, and mostly, I can ward it off.  I've schooled myself to think positively...I trained my mind to stop and reprogram when it derails.  But sometimes, just sometimes....that darkness gets a hold of me before I realize what's happened, and it takes a minute for me to recognize it, and another minute for it to let go of me.

Yesterday, I didn't get out of bed.  I literally sat in the corner, stared, thought of what I should do, and then went back to sleep, woke, tried to read, couldn't, stared, willing myself to think of something, anything, that I wanted to do, but I came up short-handed.  Today was not a better day, except I had to get myself up and go to work and go through the motions of the day.  I had to smile.  I had to say hello.  I had to help people.  I had to mask that darkness with a sunny wrapper.  It was hard.  Really hard.

Tonight, I have come through the darkness, hopefully for "good" this time it's gotten its grips on me, and it is due to a real-life hero I have; one who has led me out of the darkness on many the occasion...the one person in this entire world who has every ounce of respect I've ever been able to muster.  A person wise beyond their years.  A person who has ministered to more than they can count, who isn't done yet, who is bound for greatness...the next Mother Teresa, if you will, or Nelson Mandela, or Einstein, or Gandhi...this person is there, on that level of greatness.  The funny thing is that this person has no clue the lives that have been touched, the thoughts that have changed the minds of those they have shared with, the actions of love that have made an everlasting difference on uncountable fingers and toes.  They have no idea.  Their mild, caring manner, the love in their eyes, the tenderness with which they handle the feelings and hearts of those around them, the humility and solidness of character that they are blessed with, and work towards each and every day.  This person is the epitome of patience, of love, of solidarity, or peace, of greatness, of maturity, and I am blessed beyond measure to know them.  

This evening, as I lay down and say my prayers, I will count my blessings, not my "curses", and I will remain thankful for every situation, every experience, and every encounter with every person I've dealt with in this lifetime, for it has made me be a better human, and I will ask God that I am able to share of myself in the manner that this hero shared with me, so as to help my fellow person be able to rest peacefully as they lay their head upon their pillow at the end of this day.

Why I love ME this Valentine's day:

As I was driving home tonight, I was thinking about how Valentine's Day is tomorrow.  And I kept thinking, and my thoughts rolled around to...me.  Yes, me.  Here's the story:

When I was married all those years, I said it was just another day.  And he always sent me flowers, or got a card or at least said Happy Valentine's Day to me.  And I always said thank you, and I appreciated the things that were done, really, I did, but I see that when the tables are turned, it's not really as OK as what I thought it would be, without having someone that you know (or think you know)who loves you with all of their heart and soul and wants to spoil you and take care of you and hug you and squeeze you and call you theirs, most especially on this day of the year.

Last year, my first Valentine's Day alone, I was really alone.  Sitting at home, not listening to anything, not watching anything, just sort of sitting and thinking about how I was all alone, and how no one remembered or cared that I was all alone...having a pity party of sorts,feeling all kinds of sorry for myself.  I was really into this party, really going strong with the thoughts and the feeling bad about who I was and where I was in life, and then it happened.  My door opened, just a tad, and in the tad bit of openness of the door, a hand was thrust through the crack and in that hand was a large bouquet of the hugest buttercups I had ever seen....in the hand of the boy who brings me up whenever I need to be brought up.  "Here, mom,  I found these for you today and wanted to bring them to you...I knew you would love them.....happy Valentines day!!!"  I called them the miracle flowers, the flowers that God sent me, for it was far to early still to have buttercups, but lo and behold, my son had done just that.  Faith in the day, restored, smile on his mom's face, his job was complete.  I said that God sent me those flowers, through my son, as a promise to me that he had not forgotten me during that time.

This year, I see that I am in yet another boat of difference, and this boat is the boat of like.....of liking one's self.  I think this is the most important book or chapter in the series....this is the one where I say you know, in order to fully love and appreciate your self,you have to love who you are.  

This year, I do love who I am, and where I am....I love me, who I am, who I have become, and what I stand for.  I am thankful for the experiences that have brought me to this day, to who I am, no matter how hurtful and dismal those days and times were.  Without them, I simply wouldn't be me!  I love that I stand for kind things, for right things, for myself, and for my kids.  I love that I am a person who has friends of all sorts, and they keep me as close as I keep them.  I love that through the heartache, the depression, the despair, I've always been able to smile, to think on the positive side, and to see the beauty in the world; in my life, and hopefully, help others see that beauty in their own worlds as well.  I love that I am a compassionate and caring person, even if by caring I am opened up to being vulnerable; being hurt, or even worse, rejected. I love that even though I am broken, and even though I WANT to have that special someone, I am OK without him, with just myself, and my friends, and my kids....what more could I want, really?

I'm thankful for my outlook this year as opposed to last, that I am seeing the "ups", that I am not sad, depressed, and lonely this day, and that I am making it, on my own, with a little help from my friends, and I am OKAY.  After all, if I am not OKAY with where I am, and with who I am, if I don't love me, despite the broken parts, if I don't smile and enjoy life, how do I think I'm going to find someone that will want to do the same????  This year, I will be saying Happy Valentine's Day to Me.  To Myself.  And to I.  And I will repeat it all day long, remembering to be thankful for each and every step that as gotten me to where I am this day that was given to us by our Lord.  I will remain cheerful, and full of joy, to glorify His name.  I hope that you can do the same!

Happy Valentine's Day, Friends!

The Reason Behind the Title...

People have many, many times throughout my life asked me what my name is.  To this I reply, "Just plain Abby."  This is normally followed by snorts and giggle fits and laughter, as there tends to be nothing "plain" about this girl.  Those who don't know me sort of buy it, and that, to me, is the funny part.

>>Here's a funny story, and as they will all be, this one is true:  My dad came one day to eat lunch with me, not long after my "shriend" Miranda came into my job picture.  (Another story for another day is in that last sentence, too.)  Miranda, being Miranda, and having manners about her, told my dad that he had a very sweet daughter.  *this is where you need to know I am the oldest of his FOUR daughters*  Dad promptly snorted, pointed at me, and said, which one are you talking about, because it's not *this* one!!!!!  I don't recall Miranda's reaction, but I bet in her head, she was going, "Yeah, buddy, you got *that* right!!!"  Because I wasn't nice to her when she started....but that's the other story.<<

Nothing "plain" or "normal" ever happens to me.  This can be confirmed by my family and friends, who will proclaim loudly, "There is NO WAY you could make that up!!!  I believe you!!!!"  Yeah.  That is me.  Sometimes these things are amusing, sometimes they are even funny, but normally, even if they are funny or amusing or otherwise, they are *all* astounding.  True story.

On to the word "story".  I have learned a habit I have.  I've already said the word up there ^^^ without intention.  It is saying, "Let me tell you a story..." or "Oh, I have a story about that...."  When I taught, the kids always were amused by my stories, and would often times ask me to tell them one.   I most always obliged...and tried to share the moral or lesson learned to go with the story of the day...or hour...

Stay tuned for a day in the life of "JustPlainAbby"...