“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.”
― Eric Roth, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
When life gives you a hundred reasons to cry, show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile.
Which do you prefer??? I like Google. I like the new logo drawings for the word “Google” and can’t wait to see what they have next!
“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
― Albert Einstein
I love, love, love this quote by Einstein. He got it right and I do truly believe the latter: I believe that pretty much everything is a miracle. But, then again, I also believe in unicorns and happy mornings with giggling children and Faith beyond Reason and that there really is a place called “Heaven“ and that my sister and grandmas and grandpas are all there, waiting for us when our own time comes. I believe…
“Don’t be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.”
~ Richard Bach from the book, “Illusions”
I was a teenager when my mom loaned me her copy of “Jonathan Livingston Seagull” by Richard Bach. I remembered thinking that it was a little “earthy” for my tastes being either a senior in high school or a freshman in college. My mom was working toward her Master’s and Ph.D. and was quite the philosopher at that time.
After I read the book, she bought me my own copy of “Illusions” by Richard Bach. Now, this one was trippy.
You have to open the front page of this book with a bit of suspended belief just like when you buy your buttered popcorn, find your seat in the theater with your friends, and you sit down to watch Wookies or Yoda or Aliens: you have to just trust for a little while and leave your own belief system behind.
“Illusions” begins rather normally but Bach takes you on a journey with the main character and, by the end, you come to the conclusion that life is a journey. I highly recommend it for anyone in their upper teens to grandparents’ age. It is a book that makes you wonder and it makes you think. And, at the end of it all, the words within the covers of this book will come back to haunt and amaze you from time-to-time through your life as it has done for me.
Check back on my blog later for more quotes about “life experience” and reply or reblog if you’d like. Drop me a note.
Ciao for now,
Our oldest daughter is 17-years-old and, happily, she will be graduating this June with her friends and leaving on their overnight party ~ and then coming back home. When she gets home, she will only have a couple of short months before she leaves for college. She is an amazing kid – don’t get me wrong – but I’m not ready for her to leave. Yet.
Although she has been an Honor Roll Student all of her life (since preschool), and she is finishing up almost two years of Running Start college courses as well, I’m not ready for her to be gone.
Gone. That is such an agonizing word.
Both of our daughters’ names begin with D, so our oldest is affectionately named, “Big D” and our youngest, “Little D”. Big D is a singer by trade. She lives, breathes, eats, sleeps, showers, studies, etc., while she is either quietly singing, humming, or singing loudly and emphatically as if on stage in a musical! She has been the lead and/or performed in several musicals in the last few years, including “Fiddler on the Roof”, “Annie”, “Guys and Dolls”, “Chicago”, “C.S.I.: Neverland (Peter Pan)”… You get the picture.
Big D’s singing or humming is the first thing that I hear when she wakes up (and we are blessed to hear her numerous times throughout the day and into the evening hours) until her last waking moment before she falls off to sleep at night.
I’m going to miss it.
I’m going to miss it (and her) so very, very much. It’s like a part of me is dying and there’s nothing that I can do to stop it. I know that moms and dads (and little sisters, too) have a rough time when children leave home for the first time but this is ridiculous. I don’t act sad outwardly and I do not cry because it would just upset her. I keep it inside for now. For now.
At some point, I believe that I will need to voice my feelings or I will actually burst. Is it humanly possible to just burst? I know that I’ve been so proud of both of our girls at times that I thought that I might burst. I wonder if you can burst from holding your emotions in? I bet a woman can.
I have mentioned a time or two — once, back during her final soccer season (after 13 years of organized soccer in her life) and another time, after Winter Ball (when she got home from the dance, still in her gorgeous dress with her tiara still on her beautiful blonde hair, looking just like Cinderella) — that it’s OK for us to argue a little or be stressed what with all that she and I have to do and get ready for this “senior year”. Besides all of the final preparations for dances, athletics, volunteering, academics, senior pictures, and prom, there is also a lot to do in the huge process of college decisions, scholarships, and more! Ugh.
I don’t know if I can explain to you how I’m feeling about her not living in our home anymore because there really are no words. No words can even touch the pain that I’m anticipating this August when we drive her off to college and set up her new dorm room and then ~ drive away…
I’ve tried to talk to my husband about it several times but he shuts me off and merely says that it’ll be OK. Actually, I don’t know if he’s trying to convince ME of that or HIMSELF. We are a very, very close family. This isn’t going to be pretty. It just isn’t…
And, when I chat with my buddies — other moms who have gone through at least their first-born leaving home already — they all seem to say the same thing: don’t worry, you will all appreciate each other more. Ha! How could I appreciate my children any more than I already do? I already kiss the ground that they walk on and miss them when they’re gone for a few hours at school. How am I going to be without them for a week or two or more at a time? When I walk down the hall or slip by her room there isn’t going to be that amazing voice bursting from the other side of the door, singing. It’s going to be so quiet, so sad…
Well, this blog is supposed to help me grieve. Yes, I said, grieve. I am losing one of the best friends that I’ve ever had in my life and I think the only way around it (or, through it, actually) is to write about it. So, I think I’ll give it a go and see where it lands.
Hope you enjoy the ride with me and if you have any wonderful tidbits or pearls of wisdom to help along the way, feel free to share.
Ciao for now,