My daughter recently portrayed Mary Poppins (The Musical) at Vive les Arts in Killeen, TX. A long running community theater (40 yrs) it provides the opportunity for both artists and theater lovers to enjoy shows locally. The show was a huge success selling out for all six shows. They went through 4,000 playbill programs.
My daughter has dreamed of performing on Broadway since she was a very young girl. While she still pursues her dream, life currently has placed her in central Texas, so Broadway has to wait. I told her today performing on Broadway would be wonderful but the gift she gives to people who will probably never have the opportunity to see a show in New York can not be measured. In a world where we’ve been inundated by violence, to see people clapping in time, cheering, laughing and leaving the theater happy and singing is priceless.
Mary Poppins and her spoonful of sugar, anything is possible if you let it, and supercalifragilisticexpialidocious attitude is exactly the dose of medicine we need right now. So hats off to all those involved in community theater (the actors, musicians, techies, ensemble members, director, costumes, volunteers) and their timeless commitment to opening our world to new and wonderful experiences.
This is a small country church set in the flat lands of central Texas. Even though it is small it carries on with worship and sharing the good news. For fellow believers I have a question because I need help.
I can’t seem to find hope for tomorrow. I believe in the hope and promise of heaven but right now while I am still on God’s green earth, I’ve lost my hope. My good friend called me recently because of a very upsetting conversation I had with my mother. Even she said if you could just have something go your way, catch a break, get good news, it would help so much. I very much feel like an amateur man’s version of Job. My life doesn’t even begin to compare to his, but my battle with depression creates a barrier to finding hope. My therapist says I shouldn’t need to hold onto the idea of something good happening in my life to be happy and content. Just being alive should be enough.
So fellow believers, how do I persevere? How do I dig my way out of hopelessness? How do I find where I belong when my entire life was ripped away and has forced me to move multiple times in just 3 years. I know my real home is in heaven but right now I need to know where God wants me planted. I’m alone. No local friends. Only been here a month but I’ve but I’ve visited two churches. My heart aches. I just want to go home but home no longer exists. It’s just me and no one else.
I feel sad tonight because my daughter’s dad failed to remember her birthday. Her grandparents failed to remember her birthday. His side of the family have surgically removed both our daughters from their lives. I pity them because they are missing out on knowing two amazing young women.
Their values are money and stuff and superficial looks. Our values are faith, family and love. The first only make you feel good for a very short time while the latter give you a full and truly rich life. I would sooner have my heart ripped out than lose my relationship my my girls. Of course he has no heart to rip out so as the narcissist he is, he feels no pain.
I know I’ve asked this question before and it is redundant. I had thought I would spend my life in a suburb of DFW. I had been there for 30 years and never dreamed I’d live anywhere else. Then like so many middle aged women, my husband decided he needed a fresh start with a younger woman. So I am left with not just an emotional and financial struggle but the search for where I belong. Where is home? My children are grown and off pursuing their own lives.
There is no particular place I must live and as the little amount of money I have dwindles away, I continue to search for a way to support myself. I feel so displaced, like a fish out of water. Soon I may have little choice. It will be a very small room at my mother’s house or my car. I’d just like to find the one place which will feel like home, the place I belong.
I’m feeling like Dorothy in Wizard of Oz. this has been an interesting place to be but I’m tired and want to go home. The difference between me and Dorothy is I can not go home. Home, as I knew it, no longer exists. I know home is where your heart is, but my heart has yet to fully recover.
I feel sometimes like this is a bad dream and tomorrow I will wake up and life will be back to normal. Of course I realize my normal wasn’t healthy. It was destructive. He was cruel and incapable of empathy and compassion. So why do I find sometimes I still long for the security of my marriage even though I wasn’t happy?
I’ve had to accept he is a narcissist and absolutely incapable of understanding how his selfish actions have hurt not just me but our daughters. I have to accept he will never change because he doesn’t have the ability to change. He will forever be a soulless man.
I continue to pray and ask that I know His will. It’s not easy to know. I pray God leads my girls down the paths He has chosen for them. I pray I don’t fall apart again. I don’t think my girls are strong enough to handle it. All I can do is one minute, one hour, on day at a time.
It’s time to celebrate. I am “unpacked” and settling in to my new place. I’ve managed to stay somewhat organized. My cat, Finn has adjusted and has taken his rightful place in the front window.
And it’s time to give thanks for this wonderful country I call home. America is not perfect and it will never be perfect but I love her anyway. Her beauty is in her imperfections. Her beauty is found in her diversity. Her beauty is made more beautiful by our shared belief in each person’s right to the pursuit of happiness.
I’ve been fortunate to travel and have been places where there is little cultural or ethnic diversity. And while those places were beautiful and the people kind, our diversity adds such depth to who we are. I am proud to be an American.
Oops I did it again. Yes, I moved. This is my 6th move in 4 years. I’ve slowly pared down my belongings although from the photos it doesn’t appear so.
I decided with this move to sell one huge reminder of my ex: our bed. It is a large four poster wood bed and I bought the small full size iron bed on Craigslist. Just waiting for a new mattress to be delivered. Now when I go to bed at night, there will be no visual reminders of the past.
When I do buy furniture I’ve always tried to find pieces which can be used in a multitude of ways. So my formal living room end tables are now night stands in my room. The small tables with drawers I bought at Hobby Lobby for my bedroom are now in the living area. The tall, narrow drawer chest has been moved from my bedroom to the kitchen. And the small armoire which went with my four posset bed is now in the guest room.
I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by the boxes but reminding myself to be grateful to have such a problem. The heat and humidity aren’t helping the unpacking process but hard work and sweat never hurt anyone.
As much as I’d like a cool shower and a good book, I’m heading to the garage and another box.
I have spent a large part of my time on this blog complaining and lamenting my situation. I’ve expressed a huge range of emotions tied to feeling betrayed by my ex.
God gave me many doors during my marriage to leave and my pride kept me there. I’ve spent the last few months coming to terms with my choice to stay when God so clearly wanted me to leave. Now that I have come through the door to the other side the only emotion I feel towards my ex is pity.
The simplest definition of Pity is: a strong feeling of sadness or sympathy for someone or something. I do feel sympathy for my ex because he is blind to what matters in life. His heart is hardened. He values his image and material things. We know God doesn’t see just the image we project. He sees directly to our heart so while my ex may be fooling those around him, he is not fooling me, his daughters, son-in-law or God. We know the truth about who he is. And he has sadly bought into the lie the world tells about money and possessions. Those things pass away but the love my family and I have will last because it is based on our faith and not on what we possess or what others think of us.
With Father’s Day approaching I realized God had finally reached me and changed my direction when my primary emotion towards my ex is pity. I am no longer consumed with anger although I still feel angry from time to time. What I feel looking back and looking forward is nothing but pity for my ex because he is the one who has lost out not just now but for eternity.
S-sharing a good laugh
I-inspires me
M-material things not needed
P-positively joyful life
L-living in the moment
I-intelligent living
C-creativity blossoms
I- important moments
T-timeless quality
Y-yearning desire
My youngest told me today it was time to stop worrying about her and her sister and start to worry about myself. I wanted to laugh because most parents (except my ex) always have their children on their hearts and minds. I don’t worry per se, but I pray for them and if they are sick or feeling down I’m concerned. It’s like the moment your child is born as with goes on inside of you and you realize for the first time in your life what love really is.
I am doing my best to focus on rebuilding my life as I approach my next move. I’ve signed up to volunteer at a local theater. I’ve joined a few Meetup groups. I found out I qualify for a free senior checking account and a discount at the community recreation center. (Happy to save money but still difficult to realize how old I am).
It’s hot and humid here in central Texas. As I sweat or as a southern lady glisten my way through the day, I remind myself all that humidity is good for my skin and helps delay wrinkles!! I am privileged to grow old. Not everyone gets the opportunity.
How do you rebuild your life? How do you take those first scary steps towards an unknown destination? You would think age would grant you clarity and maybe it does for some people. For me, with no clear destination I had in my youth, the rebuilding process is proving to be slow and difficult.
One step is all I can take, one step at a time. I must remind myself God can see my entire journey and He is the builder. God has faith I can rebuild my life.
He reminds me just because a husband, a wife, a family appears happy doesn’t make it true. Many people live false and unhappy lives on the inside while proclaiming joy and happiness on the outside. And as Theodore Roosevelt said “Comparison is the thief of joy.”
I must accept I can change the past. I only have the ability to do something today. My life can be rebuilt. It may not look the same or feel the same but it will still be beautiful.
How do you tell your precious daughters you are so sorry you made such a bad choice in a husband and father? I know many people will think I wouldn’t have my girls without him but I believe they were meant to me mine regardless of who fathered them.
He provided the basic necessities of life but he never gave of himself. There are no memories of a dad offering advice, comforting a broken heart, guiding choices or times of caring. Life was all about him. Nothing has changed.
It’s why he walked away from his daughters and never looked back. He was never connected to them. There was no love for them. They were nothing more than adornments to be used and when they expected him to step up to the plate and be an honorable man and a good father by seeking help, he walked away.
So to my daughters, who I love more than life itself, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made such a bad choice. I’m sorry I stayed. I’m sorry I didn’t get you out of such a dysfunctional environment sooner. Please forgive me. I love you.
What’s in a name? It is an age old question. First names for newborns seem to run in trends. You can search most popular names by decades. In the 1900s it was John, William and James courting Mary, Helen and Margaret. By the 1950s it was James, Michael and Robert dating Mary, Linda and Patricia. And in 2015 Liam, Noah and Ethan will some day date Emma, Sophia and Olivia. Currently parents try to be original by burdening their children with unusual names and/or spellings.
Why do I say it’s a burden? Because I was given a name my parents didn’t like which is difficult to spell and pronounce for most people. When a new school year began, I knew the teacher had come to my name when she paused. I was given a nickname when I was no more than 2 years old and continue to use it, but that causes a whole new set of problems.
I have often wondered if I could pick my own name what would it be? I don’t think I would select Peekaboo like the skier. I know I wouldn’t pick to be named after someone like I was. I think your first name should be yours alone in the family. Names do carry with them images. Sometimes those images are associated with either a good or bad experience we’ve had. For me all Vickies and Connies will be bitches. Dougs and Floyds will be selfish jerks who cheat. Are those judgments fair? No of course not but we all do it.
No one imagines Gladys or Mildred being female sex symbols or Randy or Robbie being male sex symbols. The names don’t fit the image we have in our head.
So not liking my name, I’ve often wondered if I could choose my name what would it be? Charlotte? Daniella? Lily? Emannuelle? I don’t know. Maybe one day I will begin to ask people to guess my name. Then I will know who I should really be.
***If you are expecting a baby please don’t use some strange spelling Ryleigh for Riley or Matelyn for Madeleine or Aireck for Eric. Keep it simple. Your child will thank you.
I have had a ringing in my left ear for two months now. I’ve been to an ear specialist and there isn’t much which can be done. When there is a lot of white noise during the day, I can manage. But I love alone and it is very quiet here. It’s then the ringing is so loud I feel as though someone else would be able to hear it.
The doctor said it is a middle ear problem. I’ve searched all over the Internet for solutions. Nothing has worked. This definitely doesn’t make my battle with depression easier. In makes it more difficult. The doctor mentioned Ménière’s disease but I’ve only had one bout of vertigo and that was over a year ago and I had no ear issues then.
I just pray I could catch a break. The tide keeps rising and keeping my head above water gets more difficult. Just taking it one minute at a time.
I have added a blog. I now have Life Rewritten and Life with a Book. I don’t know how I would live without books. They add so much to my life, adventure, comfort, love, knowledge just to name a few. So if you like to read, I’d love to have you follow my new blog.
The Today Show has been doing a series titled “The New Middle Age.” Joan Lunden told us in a survey people selected 55 as middle age. Which I find very interesting because she interviewed women in their 40s with young children. Definitely not the demographic described by her own survey. I don’t know about you but where my life is now is vastly different from where my life was 10 years ago. And I think there is a major life shift for most people between mid 40s and mid 50s.
Children leave home. Careers change. You are either promoted or downsized. Marriages grown stronger or they break apart. The husband has a mid-life crisis and runs off with a younger woman. Sons and daughters-in-law and grand children are added to the family. Maybe you downsize your home or move to a new place, which means getting rid of lots of things. So I think her interviews held no weight because she didn’t interview people who were really middle aged.
Today they shared some round table talk with a variety of ages. I think their survey numbers were way off because I think people lied about discriminating based on age. Again age discrimination is alive and well. I can’t find a job because I’m entering the workforce at such a late time in life. Their is a perception I can’t learn new skills or my potential career will be to short. I clearly remember signing in at a Verizon Store. They took customers in the order in which they signed in unless you were a pretty young blond. A male Verizon employee disregarded the list of who was to be served next and went to help the blind hottie. I spoke up loudly and complained to the manager. Of course he said he didn’t see a problem.
For a woman 50 seems to be the magic number. It’s when you disappear from TV, movies, music, etc. And I finally stopped trying online dating because the majority of men, regardless of age set their search parameters not to select women who exceed 50 years of age. If you are over 50 you’ll never show up as a possibility. Even women your own age separate you out of their life if your life doesn’t follow their path i.e. you are divorced and they are still married.
I try and forget my age but always try and remember getting older is a privilege many never get. So rather than ignoring the “older” person next to you, engage them in conversation and open your world to new possibilities of friendship.
I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul. - Invictus
The Power of Story
Pieces of the Whole
Writing New Chapters when Life takes a Detour
Reviews of Films from the Golden Age of Hollywood
read what you love
Enriching my life with books
My life on an unexpected path 