This is another blog where I am doing some self reflection. It is not something everyone needs to read or is even interested in. It is a blog so my friends and family can understand me just a little more.
Who is this person I have become? Some days I don't even recognize her. Maybe that is what becoming "mature" means. I am almost 79 years old. I actually am starting to like myself. It took me a little longer than most people, but I have arrived or at least getting close. Experiences along my path have brought me here, and I like it. I am often underestimated and that used to bother me. I would be very self deprecating, but today I will just say thank you. I would often do that to make others feel better, but it backfired most of the time.
When I was born and only two weeks old, I developed pneumonia. They say my fever was 108 degrees. I am not sure that was true, but this was the dark ages and equipment was probably not that precise. Anyway, I was rushed to the hospital by the doctor who came to the house and with his own car took me there. That would never happen in this day and age. He had been to a seminar on a new drug called Penicillin. They gave me an adult dose and I lived. My parents were so happy, they protected me from that point forward until I left home. It was out of love, but I wasn't allowed to do things other kids could do. If it made me uncomfortable, I didn't have to do it. I never learned to fall and get up, dust myself off and continue on. It sounds like I was spoiled. I was not. I had to follow the rules. Kids were seen and not heard, we couldn't embarrass anyone or really say what we thought.
I started out in college wanting to be a teacher, but decided that wasn't for me. My parents let me switch. The degree I eventually got wasn't worth anything. Who cares if you can speedwrite, type or conjugate verbs. My mom did a lot of the talking for me so I never developed social skills either. As a result, I was a late bloomer. In defense of my mom, she lost her mom when she was 13 and had to live in a rooming house for high school and grow up fast. She thought she could protect me from all of the hardship she endured. What was meant to be love was a detriment.
I didn't think it would take me this long to find myself and it was a long process. Just getting married at almost 21 was wonderful. It forced me to do adult things, have babies and become closer to my true self. My husband started out taking care of most things like phone calls, house repairs, buying the cars etc. but gradually I took over the household budget, school stuff, doctor appointments and adult things. I always hated calling people but I did it. I probably sounded like an idiot at times, but I did it. Maybe that's the plan. I have now bought a car, I have to make all the phone calls and arrange for everything. Life teaches us things even if we don't want to learn.
I never wanted my daughters to feel like I did, so I made sure they would be involved in activities, have friends and succeed. I made them competitive in subtle ways. Every night when they were little we would race to see who could get their pajamas on first. It was a game and I always won. They thought I was a magician because no matter how hard they would try, I won. It was a fun memory they both remember to this day. I would have them call for pizza, go get ice from the ice machine in a hotel and be in charge of their own activities. I was supportive for whatever (or mostly) they chose, but they did it themselves. If they wanted to be in all the sports or student council or a class officer, we supported them. Of course all kids are different. My daughter tried these games with her kids and it didn't work. They weren't going to play the pajama game. They thought it was so dumb. My girls were raised before technology changed everything. We were all a little naive and that was a wonderful time to raise kids and for them to grow up.
Before phones my daughter would read by the light of her fish tank. I wondered why she wanted a fish tank so bad. It was part of her plan to read late into the night. They made stilts out of an old ladder to a bunk bed. They skated in the street and built forts in the back yard. They hardly watched TV and played outside for hours. None of the kids were overweight. They might come in for a brief snack but never hunkered down in their rooms.
Now I am in the final chapters of my life. I am grateful I lived a long life. I have a lot more I want to do. I will as long as I am given the opportunity and my health stays good. I have learned that people either like me or they don't. That isn't my problem anymore. I like me. Others have their own demons or at the very least deep ideas and emotions to overcome. I can't do that for them. Since I live a quiet life, my intuition is pretty darn good. I forgive almost anything because dwelling on it only poisons me, and I am not the one who made the miscue. This is a hard one, but I don't dwell on all this negative thinking either. I just can't. If someone acts inappropriate, they are the one looking bad. Sometimes people don't even know they are hurting your feelings or they make a decision they think will be helpful, but it's taken all wrong. Misinterpretation is a huge problem and the cause of all sorts of feuds. Keep your mouth shut if it isn't kind or helpful and let others figure it out. As Popeye would say "I yam what I yam and dats all that I yam.” I think it's a good place to be.










