Rainy days

As a child, I was terrified of the dark… and of thunder storms.
I was always told this was a completely unnatural fear.
Then again, I was still scurrying to my parent’s room in the middle of the night at age 9. Waking Dad first was always an advantage – he’d let me slip in next to him and all was well. My mother was a different story – I had to brave the darkness once again and fetch my blanket and pillow, and sleep on the floor next to her. I could see under their bed, and there was always this ‘thing’ there – I was convinced it was a rat that was coming to eat me. At age 9, I remembered to look in the daylight and discovered it was a tennis ball! Ha ha ha!

As a child, I had an incredible imagination! I was a reader… and if the night time’s were anything to go by, perhaps it was to my disadvantage πŸ˜›

When I was 12, the ‘harsh light of day’ and the things that happened there made me fall in love with the darkness.
And despite encounters within darkness that were far from pleasant since then – I still love it.

And the true ‘sunshine and happiness’ in my personality are most prominent when it is overcast and raining and ‘gloomy’ outside. (I’ve been told by many that this makes me rather strange – and there is a running joke with a few that I am secretly a Twilight vampire, because I really do not like the sun!) Now I’ll admit that that, and some of my peace, is slightly disturbed when I have to drive in that weather – it has been said that if you can drive safely here in my town, you can drive anywhere. πŸ˜›

But I saw this… and was quite surprised to find that this part of me is NOT that strange….

It’s raining here today! The smile on my face doesn’t get any broader!

I am celebrating being a Pluviophile! πŸ˜‰

Photo credit : positivewordsresearch.com

Kid memory

I was watching a movie last night and there was a line in it that suddenly made me laugh out loud. It wasn’t funny by any means, and the movie was pretty serious too – but it sparked something in my memory for some odd reason. And I laughed a little too long at that memory – because perhaps that was what I needed.

It isn’t even reallyΒ that funny, when I think about it now. But I thought I’d share it anyway, because it’s quite sweet… and we could all use some sweetness and a smile πŸ˜‰

When I was 9 or 10, my mother owned a day care centre in collaboration with her church. It was open for about three years – until the church decided to do something else with the building in which it was housed.
I would visit there in the afternoons after school – and I loved the little kids. Their age ranges were 2 to 6, and so some of them were not that much younger than me.

But I have always been an old soul, and thinking back now, I feel like I was so much older than them. My brothers were 9 and 11 years older than me, and I sometimes think I grew up as a mini adult. I don’t know.

But I know I was very fond of those little kids, and loved reading to them, and drawing with them, and caring for them.

Duane was one of my favourites – we’re now Facebook friends, ha ha ha!
Back then, he was four years old, and he was the cutest little thing with the chubbiest cheeks I had ever seen. He put those chubby cheeks to good use. Duane loved after lunch nap time. He was always the first one asleep, and the last one to wake up… often needing to be woken. He loved nap time so much that he’d store the last two mouthfuls of food in his cheeks, just so that he could be excused from the table to do his quick bathroom visit and then go to his little mattress and pillow. I think he chewed and swallowed while in the bathroom. But one day, he was so tired, that he seemed to have forgotten. They’d had grapes at the end of the meal, and he kept one in either cheek. He fell asleep like that though! Thankfully, he didn’t choke. Instead, almost as soon as he was asleep, his mouth opened and they popped out onto his pillow. They were discovered as the assistant teacher made her rounds to cover the children with blankets and my mother was called. After that, little Duane’s cheeks were checked before he left the table!

But that’s not the story I wanted to share πŸ˜‰

Ross was three (almost four at the time of the story I want to share) years old, and small for his age. He had big brown eyes, and sandy brown hair that was growing out past his ears, and he also sported a very straight, very thick, floppy fringe (bangs). He was very well behaved and a lot quieter and gentler than the other boys. And he had a lisp, which made him even cuter.
One day, as the assistant teacher, Pam, was tidying the bookshelf, little Rossi (that’s what we called him – no relation to Valentino πŸ˜› ) came sidling up to her. He watched, and then helped with the lower shelf. When all the books were neatly put back in place in that shelf, Rossi stood up, put his hands on his hips and let out an enormous sigh. Pam turned to face him, and smiling down at him she said,
“And now, Rossi? What’s your case?”Β  (the line from the movie)

Rossi’s brown eyes widened and he suddenly look very confused. In his soft little voice he replied,
”But Aunty Pammie, youΒ know my cathe. It’th the one with the red and white thtripeth!”

And his school suitcase was, indeed, the one with the red and white stripes. Pam started laughing, and gathered him up in a hug. Then she sat him down and explained what she had meant, and he laughed too, stating, ”I’m a thilly banana and I’m not even yellow!”

So it’s just a quick share…. but I felt it worthy πŸ˜‰ Here’s hoping you at least smiled πŸ˜‰

Be safe everyone!

 

Who Do You Need?

 

mistakes

Photo credit : sayingimages.com

 

“Nobody’s perfect, but some of us are closer than others.”

The above statement about perfection was written on a wooden board sign hanging in my brothers room while I was growing up. Every time he caught me looking at it – which was usually about the same time he caught me in his bedroom (his room was no man’s land, and definitely not a place that I was allowed to be) he would say to me, “Sorry for you, but you’re notΒ some. Now get out of my room.”

I never fully understood until my other brother, the oldest of the two, explained that he was telling me that I was nowhere near perfect. I can remember that for many years, this hurt me. Looking back now, I laugh about it – and regret the time I wasted in my growing up years allowing it to upset me.

Because here’s the thing : while I sound like I know what I am doing, the only reason I can be this way (and sort of know what I am doing) is because of the mistakes I have made – sometimes the same one a number of times. It used to be ”classic Meg syndrome”. Make a bad choice/mistake – say sorry. Get another chance. But everyone knew I would do it again a few more times.

I never struggled with learning at school, unless I was being lazy πŸ˜› And although I don’t think I have a brilliant IQ, I do think that I am intelligent enough to be able to hold my own. A comment I often heard growing up, and in adult life too, was, “You’re a beautiful girl and you’re not stupid. So WHY? It just baffles my brain.”

Unfortunately, a lot of bad choices were circumstantial. And a lot of those frustrated people who made that comment about me were the greatest ‘influencers’ of the circumstances.
Quotes-About-Judging-Peoples-Choices

Photo credit : therandomvibez.com

They say that life is all about making mistakes – there was a time where I was succeeding beyond my wildest dreams! πŸ˜› πŸ˜‰

Perhaps I was striving for genius status – since we learn from our mistakes? πŸ˜›

Here’s the thing though : while I have always been a responsible and caring person, with a kind and loving heart, I have not always been very wise – and I have had my moments of my own form of rebellion, and have done and said things that I cannot take back.

In the past few years I have aged greatly. Apparently I still look young – even though I don’t feel it. My son is very complimentary with regards to this, and was not surprised when a 27 year old asked me on a date. I was horrified – as was my daughter, because I am old πŸ˜› And yet, when I say I am probably best suited for a man in his fifties, she tells me I am too young for that. Kid can’t make up her mind πŸ˜› (My son agrees with me though – but always tells me I look younger than what I am. He’s not just flattering me, which makes me feel good. But not good enough to date a 27 year old πŸ˜› )

But I have aged greatly – and not in years (or looks apparently). In the past few years, I have gained a lot of wisdom and insight, and I have grown a lot.Β 
Much more than many people my age. I’ve always had a bit of an old soul, so that has already sort of set me apart. An elderly lady I encountered a few days ago told me, “You are not like the youth of today. You have a lot of wisdom. You’ve obviously had a challenging past.”

Yes. I have had a challenging past. Yes, I have done things, and said things, that I am not proud of. I have had things happen to me that have caused pain beyond just their occurrence. The things kept coming, and the circumstances wouldn’t change, and I kept making bad decisions. And it made things challenging. And I was too busy playing the blame game and making excuses and wallowing in my misery to face those challenges.Β 

I’ll admit – when it comes to my physical appearance, I still don’t see anything worth writing home about. I still struggle with poor self image when it comes to my outer being – partly, a woman thing; partly for other reasons. I do work on that, and am trying to change it. I will say that I have grown to love my eyes – I do see, when I look in the mirror, that although they are a boring brown, they are far from boring. I know how expressive they are, and acknowledge that physically they are my best feature. People who see me speak – my friend in the US only on video calls – have always told me the above. I have only accepted in the past few years. And that’s as far as I have got with physical image.

I am too busy with matters of the heart – my main focus is on what is going on inside of me. Who I am. Because on my blog pages, and in emails to distant new friends who I may never meet, who I am inside is what shines through.

I have worked hard the past few years, at facing my mistakes and taking responsibility where I needed to. And learning. It’s been difficult, and I have suffered. The pain has been insurmountable at times – particularly when having to forgive and move on with people who will never say they are sorry.

Because of my mistakes, I am able to counsel and advise others in many areas.
Funny enough, a lot of the time, I learn something new while doing so.

But please don’t ever be under the impression that I have always been the way I am depicted here. While my core has always been good, there have been many moments of bad. When I write here, I write from personal experiences and my ‘wisdom and goodness’ come from having made some awful mistakes. This alone should terrify you a little πŸ˜›

And the thing is, I still make mistakes. Thank goodness. Or there would be nothing left for me to learn! Some of those mistakes come from choices I willingly make : being too trusting, and too honest; my willingness to accept, acknowledge and embrace the fact that everyone is different, and that everyone deserves kindness and consideration, and as many chances as it takes for them to heal and ‘get it right’.

Yes, I leave myself exposed and vulnerable. And get hurt. But I’d rather be making these types of choices and mistakes, than be selfish and bitter and wallowing and blaming, like I tended to be in my younger years.

One of the things that had the greatest influence on me (there have been many), and brought about HUGE changes was a picture I saw on Facebook a few years ago – I googled and found it :

be-who-you-needed

 

‘Nuff said!