So this is my first 2016 post. I used to blog every day, but it got to be less fun and more of a chore. Initially thinking that I was just running out of things to say, I now realize that I just ran out of things that I was willing to talk about. Things like hurt feelings, which I hate to say have been taking up a great deal of space in my heart for longer than I'd like. Not longer than it should, because I feel what I feel. I do realize though, that even if I were the "transparent" type, who was honest with everyone about how they make me feel, I certainly can't ensure that the outcome of such conversation would leave me feeling any better.
I don't have a personal Amen Corner of people to tell me that what I'm doing is right. I just have to know for myself. I'm seeing the true meaning of "sharing the load" and just how stressful it can be when you're carrying more than your share. But then, I realize that my share is probably just meant to be greater. I don't need a lot of "me" time. I'd love to have it, but I'm not going to shut down if I don't. Just yesterday, my brother told me that he thinks highly successful people, at least society's general definition of such, require a high degree of selfishness. His example: the pro athletes that are at the top of their game and making the most money are there because they've spent a lot of years focusing solely on themselves. I've made a few small attempts, but it just isn't me. So, it's very likely that the world won't ever see me as successful, but I'm sure that if I were, I wouldn't be happy with that kind of success. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it, it's just wrong for me.
Recently, with my sister's passing, my mom has become primarily my responsibility. Most of the help that I was promised, or assumed (or hoped) would be there has not been. That's just the facts. Some absences can't be helped due to distance, or accessibility or work, but some are just because people aren't prioritizing the same things that I do. I don't prioritize my mom's needs just because she lives with me, but because that's what I'm supposed to do.
I. Again, focusing more strongly on other things isn't necessarily wrong, it's just wrong for me.
I've been carrying a huge load of hurt over a few specific things that I'm not "transparent" enough to share. Honestly, I hate that word. To me being transparent is just being honest. Deciding to keep your business, your feelings, your opinions or your hurts to yourself is in no way dishonest. Sometimes it's tough, but I've learned the hard way that an arrogant response to my sharing is far tougher. It means to me that the person really doesn't get it, and worse, doesn't care to. So 90% of the time, I just keep it to myself.
I started to rename this blog, or just start a new one because this has nothing to do with shopping, fashion, DIY or nostalgia. It does speak to why I haven't been writing or sharing the things that I typically enjoy. But every day isn't peaches and cream, peachy keen, or peach cobbler. Some days just suck. Some days people make me sad. Most days these same people don't really care, don't agree, or can't prioritize me. But each day is a day I've lived, however it turns out. I may find something amazing at a thrift store. I may cook an amazing meal or sew a 30-minute skirt. Or I may just spend the whole day watching the game shows with my mom. Or...I might just feel a boatload of hurt. The circle of people I'm comfortable sharing my feelings with is pretty small and even within that small circle I've heard "Oh Bettie's all sad again..." Would it be better if I broadcast my feelings to the general public? Neither option is more honest than the other. You still feel what you feel and others will care or not care, respond or not respond, hurt with you or say you need to get over it. Fortunately for me, I can still function whether I have an empathizer or not. It's probably not the healthiest, but it's what God has for me right now. He's teaching me that I'm stronger and better than I, or anyone else has ever given me credit for. Totally fixable. In fact, I'm giving myself a huge pat on the back right now. You can do that when you're flexible! :)
My social calendar isn't full, but if it were, who would take care of this 90+ year old lady who has spent nearly her whole life taking care of us? There'd be no 14th Street Stories if she hadn't moved to Chicago at the age of 17. Or if she and my dad hadn't bought the little bungalow on 14th Street back in the 50's. No stories to share if we hadn't made so many memories. Heck, there'd be no me if she had decided to stop at five kids. Picking up behind her, doing her laundry, helping her get dressed, taking her for car rides, making sure she eats and gets her meds, helping her into the shower and watching her slow down, both physically and cognitively isn't something that I always enjoy, but I do recognize the blessing of having her and I also recognize that my ability and willingness to take care of her is a gift that not everyone has, and most don't want. So maybe my lack of popularity (and success) was made for such a day as this. I don't feel like I'm missing anything, or sacrificing unnecessarily. My sister's gone, and she was far more sacrificing than me. I can only do my best to pick up where she left off. So I will start writing again, about whatever I care to share. I love to laugh, I think I'm pretty funny, and most often, this blog will reflect that. But today, I think I need to start with this. And so it goes...14th Street Stories.
