No More Commas

I've known a secret for almost two years now. I stumbled upon it sometime in 2012. It involved plane tickets, pictures and a trip that I was vaguely told about two months later. The person doesn't know that I know, but I know. The longer I keep this hidden, the angrier I get.

I'm guarded. VERY guarded. Over the years, I've been given more than enough reason to be. I don't like confrontation so often I walk away. That's probably not the best solution and I promise you it's not the easiest, but with my David Banner type personality most times I think it's best. 

My brother said something the other day that resonates in my mind. He said,

 "Don't put a comma in your life, where there's supposed to be a period."

That guy may be on to something. I've been holding back and sometimes

walking away from things saying that I'm cool with it, while it's still festering in the back of my mind. I need to bring closure and start fresh. The comma says "wait, there's more." The period says, "I'm done with this, right here."

TODAY'S ASSIGNMENT:
Find where you've been putting the commas in your life and say, 

I'm done with this. Full Stop.

It's time to do that and move on.

Now about that secret I've been keeping...

Wake Up

Live Free

Tаkе a trір dоwn mеmоrу lane, gо back tо your сlаѕѕrооmѕ аnd tаkе a lооk around.

A сlаѕѕrооm іѕ one рlасе whеrе wе gеt to interact with a lоt of different реорlе on a vеrу close bаѕіѕ. We get tо rub ѕhоuldеrѕ and соrnеrѕ wіth very different people аnd wе get to know thеm on a one to оnе bаѕіѕ. Sо how many оf your classmates did you genuinely like?

I dоn’t mеаn lіkе thеm as classmates but аѕ реорlе. Was іt easy tо gеt along wіth all of thеm? Thаt is whу wе оftеn еnd uр wіth bеѕt frіеndѕ or сlіques іn сlаѕѕrооmѕ.

Wе dо not have tо lіkе еvеrуbоdу. And everybody doesn't have to like us. I learned that lesson a few years ago and I've been happier because of it. I no longer felt the pressure to measure up. Now...

There Was A Time

There was a time when all a woman did was attend a sock hop or cotillion and she would be swarmed by a room filled with possible suitors. At the beginning of the evening, she dressed in her most fashionable ensemble and armed with a beautiful smile and eagerness to please to parade herself before a throng of desirable young men.

Then someone told us that we were wrong for that. We were making ourselves out to be products and merchandise. The years went by and we stopped parading ourselves in that manner and men forgot how to woo. They seemed to have forgotten how to bring flowers and candy and take us to the movies. We forgot how to smile and accept being showered with attention.

We lost relationships and forgot how to relate. Somewhere along the line we fell out of love. We started
networking. A man across a crowded room is no longer a candidate for a relationship; he’s now someone to pitch our product or service to. We can’t see that in his eyes is desire and we begin to “pitch” our accomplishments, when he wanted to say, “Excuse me, miss. What’s your name? Are you free tonight?”

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Feeling Love

This is a time of love. At least for the next nine days or so. There's something about a day that focuses on couples that can make a person reflect on their solitude. So the other day I decided to fall in love. It was as hard as I thought it would be.

The first thing I fell in love with was a cup of coffee from a coffee spot that I frequent.

The barrister said, "Hey you."
Then told another customer, "She's a regular."
To which I replied, "You know I'm in love with this place."
The first sip was beautiful. Fragrant with the right amount of sweetness. I sighed at that perfect cup.

I sat at a table outside, a woman passed me walking her puppy. The dog turned around and ran to where I was sitting. I laughed as I reached down to pet him. He licked my hand. The woman ran over and said, "I'm sorry he doesn't usually do that. It's must be love at first sight".

Then a lady sat at the table next to me with her baby. Overwhelmed by her baby, baby bag and stroller, she spilled her drink. I could see the frustration on her face. I gave her some of my tissues and assisted her in the clean up. Then the baby started crying. The mother put one hand on her forehead. I sat at their table and asked, "Do you mind?"

I picked up the baby and began to talk to him and he laughed and giggled and grinned. She said, "You have a gift". I returned him to his mother and left.

I then realized that love was all around me, waiting to be embraced. And I smiled.

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Adventures In Online Dating

I found this the other day and it got me thinking. Love should be self sustaining and all encompassing. (Well it's what I was taught). But the practically states that we need more than love. After all, "Love don't pay the bills". Right?

Well, even with that thought, I (after much hesitation) joined an online dating site. Why hesitation? Have you seen the show about the people that pretend to be other people on the internet? There are some real crazies out there. I don't know what it is about the internet that brings out the nutty in people.

First of all, I had no idea that there were so many companies brokering love online. I mean legitimate sites not counting the "buy a foreign bride" ones.

Seriously, we really need to talk about that! But just not now. 

I started to look up the most popular along with the ones I had seen advertised. Especially the ones that I had seen that said FREE TRIAL. I'm not above falling in love (or like) for free. I was definitely prepared to put it on a credit card that I didn't really use often anyway. But if by the end of the 30 days it starts to look hinky, in the words of N'Sync "Bye, Bye, Bye".

Not that I'm on a time constraint, but I decided to sign up for two sites simultaneously. One site claimed that they were responsible for 120,000 marriages yearly. Considering that statistics state that 50% of marriages end in divorce, I'm not sure that they really should be using that as a selling point. Just saying.

The other site that I ventured to explore had a really cute commercial that I'd been seeing at least 3 times a day. The universe is obviously not my friend, as I saw it as being a little pushy by "arranging" to have this commercial run so many times while I try to eat my cookie dough ice cream and watch reruns of The Big Bang Theory.

I now have to set up a profile for both accounts. But that's a story for another day.

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Will You Remember Me - Vera

My paternal grandmother was the best grandma in the world (to me). She was straight talking and plain speaking. I miss her often. Every Sunday afternoon we'd go to her house for treats and if we didn't get them, she'd get upset with my Father.

She used to make a hot lunch for my dad every Wednesday and he would go to sit with her while they caught up. One Wednesday, either my dad forgot or was late going for lunch, my grandmother walked to his store, threw the packed lunch on the table and started walking back home. My father then got in the car and tried to coax her into the vehicle so he could carry her home. Long story short, my dad ended up driving alongside until she got to her house, where she went inside, slammed the door and locked him out.

She was a small framed, short tempered woman that raised her six children on her own after her husband died while the was young (late twenties I think). A strong woman that once said, when asked if she would marry again, "No other man is going to raise E____ children". She was stubborn. She was a seamstress/shopkeeper that still got home in time to make meals for her family. Even though it wasn't much, they were fed and educated and raised.

Once my parents when to a funeral and left us at her house. She said, "When mother and father forsake you, your old grandmother will take you up". I think about that to this day. It was funny the way she said it but also the best thing anyone could say. She was saying she was there.

I smile when I think about her. And I wonder what kind of legacy I'll leave and if anyone will remember.

Will You Remember Me - How Will You Remember Me?

So the story of the woman found in her apartment three years after her death, still bothers me. I want to be remembered!

I'm a church girl. My parents are preachers, so I've been in church all my life. I had a youth leader that I will never forget. She was the worst youth leader to walk the planet probably. Yes, I'm exaggerating. But she was pretty awful. I assume she hated the position and I often wondered if she even liked young people. 

Every time she came to youth meetings it was as if someone was infringing on her time and like we should feel privileged that she graced us with her presence. She was always engaging us in debates about whether being from the inner city made us "hood kids". That wouldn't be bad if ever so often she wouldn't punctuate it by scolding the girls in the group by telling them she wouldn't be surprised if they became teen mothers. 

Now that I think about her, she was slightly psychotic. Anyone that projects those feeling and those kind of ideals on impressionable minds and people she should be molding had to have some kind of loopy tendencies. Funny thing is, we (kids) never reported her. 

She also had authority issues. She was always at odds with the church overseers. I was a kid but it was obvious that she had issues. I remember the last time I saw her at church she went into the office, tendered her resignation and promptly exited the building. All during Sunday morning service. The church office was beyond the pulpit at that time so she had to pass the entire congregation to do that. Why not wait until the end of service? Dramatic much?

Well the other day in the newspaper, I saw an obituary with someone of the same name. I wasn't sure if it was her but my memories were filled with her shouting at us, putting us down and her general unfairness. Then I turned the page.

I remembered.

Will You Remember Me?

Ever so often, something grabs my attention and forces me into a long hard think. The other day while watching Netflix I stumbled across a documentary and it has since left me a little unnerved. The documentary was about a woman named Joyce Vincent and according to what I read she had been found in her apartment dead after three years. 

As I watched this unfortunate occurrence, it saddened and angered me. But most of all it made me reflective. Has my life made enough of an impact on the universe that people would be concerned enough to look for me if I simply didn't show up one day? 

The interesting thing is that this woman knew people, people knew her. They described her as bubbly and charismatic. I'm bubbly and charismatic. They spoke of how she connected with so many people. Mentioned that people found her affectionate and a joy to be around. I thought about it.... Joyce could be anyone. Joyce could be ME!

I've been thinking about this for a few days now, and I hope that I'm not so easily forgotten.

Just think about it.