I was listening to my iPod and started thinking about how many memories music brought back. When you're listening to a song from a certain period in your life, no matter how shallow or deep the song may be, it's almost as if you can close your eyes and be right back in those moments, the sights and smells. I can almost hear my friends cars pulling in the driveway of my apartment and hear my motion light click on as they're nearing the door. The new car smell of my Scion or my brother's Jetta comes right back to me. I love memories. Some I wish I could forget(the drunk, embarrassing ones), but most of them I remember fondly. After all, I'm only human. Mistakes were going to be made at one point or another.
As I was taking my trip down memory lane, I decided to get my old iPhone out to give to Rich because his is broken. I was going through it to clear out all of my old junk for him when I started to get curious and begin really browsing. Of course I deleted the old shopping lists, phone numbers and text messages, but then I came across something that I don't check often or pay much attention to at all: Voicemail.
This isn't a phone that I've been away from long, it's my iPhone 4 that I carried from 2010 until the end of 2012 and still use as an iPod in my Scion. But since I never check voicemails unless I catch it right as it's left, there were plenty on there to hear. I think there were about 40. I didn't listen to all of them, I just scrolled through to see what my life was like back then. Most of them were from my Nana and Papaw. My Papaw was very sick on this day so the messages from him really tugged at my heart. I continued through and heard messages from friends I barely remember and a few from an ex-boyfriend that I'd never checked during the breakup and those gave me the giggles, and actually a few answers. Who knew? It's crazy how much things can change in just a few short years. Things that broke your heart then don't break your heart now.
Right in the middle of the inbox were a few messages from my brother that I now don't get to see very much. I hesitated to listen to them because it's a very emotional subject for me. Just hearing his name can change my whole mood and day from happy to borderline suicidal. I suppose I'm a masochist because I decided to listen to them and several moments later I was surrounded by tissues on the couch as I lay listening to Evanescence. Amy Lee just "gets" me sometimes.
Right in the middle of my pity party, I had a moment of clarity and thought of something profound, to me at least. I looked again at my old phone full of life and messages and then checked my new phone. There were a few voicemails from family members, just along the lines of "Hey.. Call me back," lots of texts because that has replaced actual telephone voice-to-voice conversation now, and a few missed calls but just from Mom on her way home from work or Rich letting me know he was starting home.
When you're young, your phone is full of fun and secrets. It's always ringing and buzzing to the point that you're annoyed. Friends are calling to hang out or spread gossip and you're trying to decide where to go or who to chat with first. Always in a hurry. I used to get so irritated with my phone always ringing that I started, and still out of habit, keep it on silent. My best friend would call me over and over until I picked up, even if I was asleep. Now, from her, I have no missed calls. I barely have any calls from anyone at all. My phone is usually silent, besides Facebook(which is currently deactivated) or Twitter updates and text messages from my Mom, Nan, Rich or sometimes Timmy. Most of the people on Facebook and Twitter aren't even people that are in my everyday life, just online buddies.
I guess what I'm trying to say is enjoy the annoying buzzing phone while it lasts because inevitably, all things come to an end. We get married, have children, get full-time jobs and at that point, time to call friends and gossip or plan a trip to the movies or mall is few and far between. Before you know it, those monumental people in your life have their own lives that are more important than talking to you on the phone. The phone calls I receive now are generally of a more somber nature.
If I could go back in time, I'd roll myself off of that couch I was sleeping on after a Wendy's binge and call that best friend back and tell her how much I loved and appreciated her and how proud I always was of her, because today, I don't have that opportunity. It's ancient history. She's gone and has no idea who I am anymore, it's clear by casually talking to her now. The person who knew me the most and talked to me all night, thinks things of me that would never be true. She now confides in others about her mistrust of me. I would go back to one of those days, and instead of going straight home from work because I was tired, I'd go over to their house and hang out for a while first. I now know I have all the time in the world to rest. I would drive over to my brother and just randomly hug him, talk about some stupid rap song from back in the day, and thank them both for seeing me through the bad times, just as I did for them.
I would make them promise, no matter how mad we got at each other, for things big or small, that we would always forgive and never lose touch. I would tell them that despite my shortcomings, I thought more of them than anyone else in the world for so long and that they were my support system. No one understood me quite like them, and now that I feel they don't understand, I feel it's impossible that anyone else would be able to. I'm a complicated mess full of bad habits and phobias but they seemed to accept me anyway. They saw me at my ugliest and my drunkest. The storm in my life is over now, I got sober many moons ago, but I still need people to talk to. People that understand and know my background. I can barely see anything without being reminded of an inside joke.
Time, we cannot get back. Those days are over and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it now. I think, as humans, that's one of the saddest parts of life. Things and people change indefinitely, and also no one lives forever. You never know when the clock is going to run out and you're out of time to make things right. I know that from personal experience. I have another old friend that passed away. You never shake the feeling that maybe there's something you could have done to help or comfort them and you wonder if it would have changed anything. Of course if it did change anything, you wouldn't know, because the tragedy wouldn't have happened. Maybe we've helped more people than we know. Maybe that's something we'll find out at the end.
I wish I'd always let those important people know how much they meant to me before they left, not knowing what an impact they made on my life and what I would/did lose in their absence, because soon enough for most of us, we're sitting here married, old and on the couch with no missed calls. Cherish those youthful, innocent moments, no matter how good or bad they may seem. Someday, you'll miss the persistent, annoying phone calls.
I'm from the future, and I've come to tell you that declining the call is a bad idea.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Entitlement
A wait in line at the pharmacy can reveal a lot of things. In fact, that's where the police should park their cars and watch, instead of in the median where they are so likely to get hit. You have your elderly people picking up their medicines, mothers and women getting their regular prescriptions, sick people in for some relief by antibiotic or cough medicine but you can also see the anxious, fidgety drug addict or dealer waiting to get their fix, or a lot of people's fix.
I'm not going to be talking about the druggies today, even though I felt they were worth a mention. What I started out to write about today was entitlement and it's a big problem in America. It may very well be the biggest problem, that all of the little problems are trickling down from. You can see entitlement anywhere you look. It seems that most people think something is owed to them or that they are deserving of anything anyone else has despite their lack of motivation.
A simple first example of entitlement, in my opinion, would be your common thief. He breaks into garages and may take your dirt bike because he wants it and feels that the world should turn on its axis and give it to him. He pretends the world is against him, even though the real reason he doesn't have his own is because he won't work for it. This kind of entitlement will lead them to steal anything you may leave outside that they can get their hands on. They may even be bold enough to then ask to borrow money from you. I've seen these people personally, as I'm sure you have also. Drugs are often involved, but I don't believe in using that as an excuse.
Another great example of entitlement starts out at my husband's shop. I used to work there and you see a lot of interesting people walking down Roane Street sometimes. Most of them are the friendly townspeople or people who work a few blocks up, but you get the occasionally whackjob. I was at work one afternoon, writing away at some repair orders for my husband when suddenly the door flies open and a man comes in and makes himself comfortable. I had never saw him before that day, but I assumed he was a customer, since I haven't met them all and he walked in like he knew the shop. I said hello and asked how he was doing, as he looked pretty rough, and what I got in reply was "Not good. I need a ride to Rockwood." I said, "Okay, well do you have a car you've left with us? Are you a customer?" He replied that he was not and had never been in before so I offered to call him a cab, knowing I wasn't going to take a strange, demanding man all the way to Rockwood, even if gas prices were low! He said, "Well that there's a problem. I ain't got no money. I just left the hospital for a spider bite and I need a ride to Rockwood," yet again glancing back and forth at me and my black Lexus outside as if it was owed to him, or since I had such a flashy ride, it was my debt to pay to have to drive him to Rockwood. Not here, buddy. Rich finally overheard and got the man out.
I witnessed a lot of entitlement as a server. You know when you visit a sit-down restaurant that tipping is part of the deal. It's the way life is, unfortunately. Everyone wants to get the best service and the best food, but when it comes time to tip the server, they fall short. If your server has done a horrible job and was rude, I'm not asking you to waste your hard-earned money, but if they were friendly and brought everything you asked for promptly, you have no excuse not to tip them 15-20%. Don't use the excuse that you can't afford it, because if not, you shouldn't be eating out to begin with. I had so many people with entitlement issues come into my workplace and make my life harder. They won't ask you for ketchup, sauce and a refill all at once, they'll watch you ruin your feet as you do each one separately. They'll shake their glass of ice at you even though you just asked them if they'd like a refill less than 5 minutes ago, to which they declined and asked for a check stating they were done. Apparently, these entitled people think you should be able to read their mind and fulfill their every desire for only $2.50 an hour and without a tip looming on the horizon. If you don't believe in tipping, that's an issue for you to discuss with the corporate offices since the employees you see in restaurants do not make those decisions or have that kind of authority. They are only there to make ends meet. This is something you should be teaching your children, too. I've met more than my fair share of entitled teenagers who think it's funny to put a piece of food in their drink and ask for another, pretending I put it in there. Like I wouldn't notice that a pepperoni fell into a drink. Pepperoni isn't even near the soda machines! I do not appreciate a teenager questioning my intelligence with an idiotic joke.
For my final example, I'm going to return to the first scene of this blog, the pharmacy. I recently had a sinus and eye infection and was lucky enough to have to wait an hour for my prescriptions at our local pharmacy. When I finally received the text that they were ready, I scurried back in line to swiftly pick them up and head home. The line moved pretty quickly until they began to wait on the person in front of me. She was older but fully capable of walking, talking or working, as was her husband and since it was during a work day I assume they were unemployed. They were too young to be retired and what are the odds they both work third shift? They were on some sort of government aided insurance. I'm not really sure of the details, I've never recieved anything from Uncle Sam, I just overheard that it was government paid. I already assumed, shame on me. She was supposed to pay a co-pay and was complaining that she shouldn't have to pay more than $5. It ended up taking the pharmacy a while, but they finally pleased her. I, on the other hand, have no insurance. My family doesn't believe in handouts and even if they did, I wouldn't qualify. Private insurance is difficult to obtain although I will be on my husband's policy soon, but it will leave a hole in our wallet. Apparently, Obamacare helps people with pre-existing conditions out a lot but the average person who has only a few prescriptions and doctor visits a year, it raises it because insurance companies now have to offer unlimited coverage to anyone. So as I paid $77 for some eyedrops, antibiotics and allergy medicine, I couldn't help but resent the person who just walked away with a full month of medicine complaining that they had to pay $5 out of pocket.
The moral of this story is that, as a country, we are too entitled. People think that since the economy is rough that it's an excuse to not try and to lay back and let others do it for you. We pay taxes every month and when we do, I picture the woman from the pharmacy. Her biggest problem that day was a small co-pay. I had an eye and sinus infection and my grandfather was two and a half hours away at a hospital with a life-threatening illness. Everyone wants work done but when we put the time and effort into it and try to return it, we get a bounced check or someone who simply won't answer the phone. Even other corporations try to rip us off, the struggle is real apparently. The new taxes cut my paycheck by $5 and all I've got are jokes about how "it's only $5" but that's a lot coming out of my small check, I'm not a millionaire! When I was a server, a $5 tip was a big deal for me, I worked hard for that. Five more dollars to help the ones who won't help themselves, and that's annoying no matter what political party you are.
I believe, and I'm told, you get what you put into this world and people should get what they deserve. If you work hard I believe you should be rewarded and appreciated, no matter what your line of work. You should be able to profit from your success and buy what you please with it. My husband is a small business owner and I had never saw anyone work so hard before, except my Paps. I saw someone joking on Facebook one day that finding a job was as hard as running a business and I told my husband and we had a good laugh. Let them see the bills we have to pay every month and the tasks we must perform just to keep the doors open and they will get back out on the job search quickly. I'm a housewife now, luckily. I keep a clean home, I cook, basically I take charge of anything that goes on on this property while also trying to care for the family. That is my line of work until further notice. I do wish everyone could have that luxury, but I didn't until I got married. When I met Rich I was working full time and had a second job at night. I'm so thankful to have the life I do. If your family can afford you nice things, that's fabulous, but you shouldn't look to the taxpayer for it or expect special treatment from everyone. I wish everyone nothing but the best and I hope someday the entitlement will be gone and that people will earn their keep, but until then, keep your ears closed at the pharmacy.
I'm not going to be talking about the druggies today, even though I felt they were worth a mention. What I started out to write about today was entitlement and it's a big problem in America. It may very well be the biggest problem, that all of the little problems are trickling down from. You can see entitlement anywhere you look. It seems that most people think something is owed to them or that they are deserving of anything anyone else has despite their lack of motivation.
A simple first example of entitlement, in my opinion, would be your common thief. He breaks into garages and may take your dirt bike because he wants it and feels that the world should turn on its axis and give it to him. He pretends the world is against him, even though the real reason he doesn't have his own is because he won't work for it. This kind of entitlement will lead them to steal anything you may leave outside that they can get their hands on. They may even be bold enough to then ask to borrow money from you. I've seen these people personally, as I'm sure you have also. Drugs are often involved, but I don't believe in using that as an excuse.
Another great example of entitlement starts out at my husband's shop. I used to work there and you see a lot of interesting people walking down Roane Street sometimes. Most of them are the friendly townspeople or people who work a few blocks up, but you get the occasionally whackjob. I was at work one afternoon, writing away at some repair orders for my husband when suddenly the door flies open and a man comes in and makes himself comfortable. I had never saw him before that day, but I assumed he was a customer, since I haven't met them all and he walked in like he knew the shop. I said hello and asked how he was doing, as he looked pretty rough, and what I got in reply was "Not good. I need a ride to Rockwood." I said, "Okay, well do you have a car you've left with us? Are you a customer?" He replied that he was not and had never been in before so I offered to call him a cab, knowing I wasn't going to take a strange, demanding man all the way to Rockwood, even if gas prices were low! He said, "Well that there's a problem. I ain't got no money. I just left the hospital for a spider bite and I need a ride to Rockwood," yet again glancing back and forth at me and my black Lexus outside as if it was owed to him, or since I had such a flashy ride, it was my debt to pay to have to drive him to Rockwood. Not here, buddy. Rich finally overheard and got the man out.
I witnessed a lot of entitlement as a server. You know when you visit a sit-down restaurant that tipping is part of the deal. It's the way life is, unfortunately. Everyone wants to get the best service and the best food, but when it comes time to tip the server, they fall short. If your server has done a horrible job and was rude, I'm not asking you to waste your hard-earned money, but if they were friendly and brought everything you asked for promptly, you have no excuse not to tip them 15-20%. Don't use the excuse that you can't afford it, because if not, you shouldn't be eating out to begin with. I had so many people with entitlement issues come into my workplace and make my life harder. They won't ask you for ketchup, sauce and a refill all at once, they'll watch you ruin your feet as you do each one separately. They'll shake their glass of ice at you even though you just asked them if they'd like a refill less than 5 minutes ago, to which they declined and asked for a check stating they were done. Apparently, these entitled people think you should be able to read their mind and fulfill their every desire for only $2.50 an hour and without a tip looming on the horizon. If you don't believe in tipping, that's an issue for you to discuss with the corporate offices since the employees you see in restaurants do not make those decisions or have that kind of authority. They are only there to make ends meet. This is something you should be teaching your children, too. I've met more than my fair share of entitled teenagers who think it's funny to put a piece of food in their drink and ask for another, pretending I put it in there. Like I wouldn't notice that a pepperoni fell into a drink. Pepperoni isn't even near the soda machines! I do not appreciate a teenager questioning my intelligence with an idiotic joke.
For my final example, I'm going to return to the first scene of this blog, the pharmacy. I recently had a sinus and eye infection and was lucky enough to have to wait an hour for my prescriptions at our local pharmacy. When I finally received the text that they were ready, I scurried back in line to swiftly pick them up and head home. The line moved pretty quickly until they began to wait on the person in front of me. She was older but fully capable of walking, talking or working, as was her husband and since it was during a work day I assume they were unemployed. They were too young to be retired and what are the odds they both work third shift? They were on some sort of government aided insurance. I'm not really sure of the details, I've never recieved anything from Uncle Sam, I just overheard that it was government paid. I already assumed, shame on me. She was supposed to pay a co-pay and was complaining that she shouldn't have to pay more than $5. It ended up taking the pharmacy a while, but they finally pleased her. I, on the other hand, have no insurance. My family doesn't believe in handouts and even if they did, I wouldn't qualify. Private insurance is difficult to obtain although I will be on my husband's policy soon, but it will leave a hole in our wallet. Apparently, Obamacare helps people with pre-existing conditions out a lot but the average person who has only a few prescriptions and doctor visits a year, it raises it because insurance companies now have to offer unlimited coverage to anyone. So as I paid $77 for some eyedrops, antibiotics and allergy medicine, I couldn't help but resent the person who just walked away with a full month of medicine complaining that they had to pay $5 out of pocket.
The moral of this story is that, as a country, we are too entitled. People think that since the economy is rough that it's an excuse to not try and to lay back and let others do it for you. We pay taxes every month and when we do, I picture the woman from the pharmacy. Her biggest problem that day was a small co-pay. I had an eye and sinus infection and my grandfather was two and a half hours away at a hospital with a life-threatening illness. Everyone wants work done but when we put the time and effort into it and try to return it, we get a bounced check or someone who simply won't answer the phone. Even other corporations try to rip us off, the struggle is real apparently. The new taxes cut my paycheck by $5 and all I've got are jokes about how "it's only $5" but that's a lot coming out of my small check, I'm not a millionaire! When I was a server, a $5 tip was a big deal for me, I worked hard for that. Five more dollars to help the ones who won't help themselves, and that's annoying no matter what political party you are.
I believe, and I'm told, you get what you put into this world and people should get what they deserve. If you work hard I believe you should be rewarded and appreciated, no matter what your line of work. You should be able to profit from your success and buy what you please with it. My husband is a small business owner and I had never saw anyone work so hard before, except my Paps. I saw someone joking on Facebook one day that finding a job was as hard as running a business and I told my husband and we had a good laugh. Let them see the bills we have to pay every month and the tasks we must perform just to keep the doors open and they will get back out on the job search quickly. I'm a housewife now, luckily. I keep a clean home, I cook, basically I take charge of anything that goes on on this property while also trying to care for the family. That is my line of work until further notice. I do wish everyone could have that luxury, but I didn't until I got married. When I met Rich I was working full time and had a second job at night. I'm so thankful to have the life I do. If your family can afford you nice things, that's fabulous, but you shouldn't look to the taxpayer for it or expect special treatment from everyone. I wish everyone nothing but the best and I hope someday the entitlement will be gone and that people will earn their keep, but until then, keep your ears closed at the pharmacy.
Changing Your Smile
I've saw a quote meme circulating online for quite sometime now that I only recently realized speaks volumes to me. Something to the effect of "Change the world with your smile but don't let the world change your smile."
This, unfortunately, has happened to me. Childhood is a time of fun, love and laughter but after high school is over the world changes dramatically. So long were the days of careless slumber and summer sun, and bid hello to a long work day for little pay or appreciation; not that I haven't had plenty of jobs where I was fulfilled and appreciated, I'm just speaking in general.
I used to be one of the most shy and delicate creatures in the world. I blushed when my name was called in class and hid behind my Nana's leg if someone tried to speak to me. In elementary school, I was voted Most Thoughtful. I was never very social, relying on my brother and family as company as well as the typical one best friend I had in school, never a group. Now that the family has aged a lot, friends are no longer made in school, some have died, and my brother has outcasted me, I have mainly my husband to rely on, which I suppose is how life goes. I got lucky in the supportive husband department.
After the innocence of youth, I began to develop severe anxiety, mainly social. I was always different and never truly felt accepted in school, but I had a very loving home. Somehow I always felt like I was on the outside looking in, which wasn't as hollow and lonely until I got older. Yes, here comes the part about how I filled the void with alcohol, but I'll spare the details for now and just say that it wasn't illegal or life-threatening, it was mainly my ego that suffered. That went on for three to four years, off an on, of course. I'm one year sober as of New Year's so that's a distant memory.
When I look back now to a younger version of myself, I don't even recognize her. It's as if so much time passes that you start to wonder if you ever knew yourself, or someone else, or if it was just a very vivid dream that you remember flashes of. I find and read old things that I've written and the only way to tell for sure it was me was my handwriting. The world today moves so fast these days that you lose yourself and when your head finally stops spinning, you catch yourself and think "Who am I?" Now I'm the first person to call someone out and although I don't apologize for standing up for myself, it's a heavy burden to carry around, being so defensive constantly. I always think someone dislikes me and often I'm correct. I'm an easy target with my family's reputation, my cars, home and iPhone I suppose? I would like you to know that my husband and I work very hard to maintain what we have now, we are independent.
I remember a day, more than 10 years ago, when I was with an old best friend, who is now deceased, and I'll never forget something that was said. I don't remember the content of the conversation, other than the fact that they laughed about the fact that I was an incurable optimist. I'd never noticed it before they pointed it out. I always thought things would get better, no matter how difficult the circumstance. I don't believe that anymore and I find myself trying to look on the bright side but secretly "knowing" the worst will occurr and thinking if I even try to think positive that I'll jinx myself and things will then get worse. How sad is that?!
I've been hardened by the world that each of us face everyday. The world is a scary and angry place. I've realized how hard money is to earn, it doesn't grow on a tree in Pap's backyard after all. You're a little fish in a big pond. I've learned that evil is out there and you risk meeting it, or a car crash, any time you walk out the door. On the other hand, you could be burglarized at your own home or a plane could crash right into your house. Happens all the time.. Happens sometimes. I've realized that the beautiful country we live in is divided, and I think they like it that way. It gives them a reason to argue and make, sometimes valid, points that make them feel special.
If I had the chance to go back, there are countless things I would change, but most of all I would tell myself not to let others' cruelty and disregard change my smile and my overall outlook on the world and life itself. Now after years of hurt and anger, I'm trying to backtrack and gain back some of my softness and trust. I'm trying to make the most out of what are most likely my beloved Papaw's final days/weeks/months/years, we don't know but he's very ill. Trying to care for him at this point has really brought me back down to Earth. He has cared for me and been my rock throughout my whole life and I would be ashamed if I wasn't there for him now. I want nothing in return except for him to know how much he's been appreciated and how much he has helped and made my life better. Being his granddaughter has always made me so proud. He's helped so many people, whether the masses will admit it or not and he's one of the strongest people I know. When he leaves me someday, I know it will not be because he wanted to or didn't fight.
I believe that the Lord sees everything that we do and that he knows our intention. Sometimes that's good, sometimes we should be ashamed! I believe we will pay for everything we do in life, good or bad, and I'm not speaking of our salvation, that's not my place. I think the universe has its own way of paying us back. This is what I'm struggling with right now. We're doing the right things and it seems like bad things are still happening to us constantly. Maybe it's just a test and things will be better soon and we will be stronger people in the end. I hope so. Until then, if I can just keep the things I have right now I will be content.
In closing, I just wanted to say, "Change the world with your smile. Don't let the world change your smile," that's what I'm trying to do and I think if more people got onboard and tried to help instead of casting stones, and attempt to see the positive in things, we may all be a happier people.
This, unfortunately, has happened to me. Childhood is a time of fun, love and laughter but after high school is over the world changes dramatically. So long were the days of careless slumber and summer sun, and bid hello to a long work day for little pay or appreciation; not that I haven't had plenty of jobs where I was fulfilled and appreciated, I'm just speaking in general.
I used to be one of the most shy and delicate creatures in the world. I blushed when my name was called in class and hid behind my Nana's leg if someone tried to speak to me. In elementary school, I was voted Most Thoughtful. I was never very social, relying on my brother and family as company as well as the typical one best friend I had in school, never a group. Now that the family has aged a lot, friends are no longer made in school, some have died, and my brother has outcasted me, I have mainly my husband to rely on, which I suppose is how life goes. I got lucky in the supportive husband department.
After the innocence of youth, I began to develop severe anxiety, mainly social. I was always different and never truly felt accepted in school, but I had a very loving home. Somehow I always felt like I was on the outside looking in, which wasn't as hollow and lonely until I got older. Yes, here comes the part about how I filled the void with alcohol, but I'll spare the details for now and just say that it wasn't illegal or life-threatening, it was mainly my ego that suffered. That went on for three to four years, off an on, of course. I'm one year sober as of New Year's so that's a distant memory.
When I look back now to a younger version of myself, I don't even recognize her. It's as if so much time passes that you start to wonder if you ever knew yourself, or someone else, or if it was just a very vivid dream that you remember flashes of. I find and read old things that I've written and the only way to tell for sure it was me was my handwriting. The world today moves so fast these days that you lose yourself and when your head finally stops spinning, you catch yourself and think "Who am I?" Now I'm the first person to call someone out and although I don't apologize for standing up for myself, it's a heavy burden to carry around, being so defensive constantly. I always think someone dislikes me and often I'm correct. I'm an easy target with my family's reputation, my cars, home and iPhone I suppose? I would like you to know that my husband and I work very hard to maintain what we have now, we are independent.
I remember a day, more than 10 years ago, when I was with an old best friend, who is now deceased, and I'll never forget something that was said. I don't remember the content of the conversation, other than the fact that they laughed about the fact that I was an incurable optimist. I'd never noticed it before they pointed it out. I always thought things would get better, no matter how difficult the circumstance. I don't believe that anymore and I find myself trying to look on the bright side but secretly "knowing" the worst will occurr and thinking if I even try to think positive that I'll jinx myself and things will then get worse. How sad is that?!
I've been hardened by the world that each of us face everyday. The world is a scary and angry place. I've realized how hard money is to earn, it doesn't grow on a tree in Pap's backyard after all. You're a little fish in a big pond. I've learned that evil is out there and you risk meeting it, or a car crash, any time you walk out the door. On the other hand, you could be burglarized at your own home or a plane could crash right into your house. Happens all the time.. Happens sometimes. I've realized that the beautiful country we live in is divided, and I think they like it that way. It gives them a reason to argue and make, sometimes valid, points that make them feel special.
If I had the chance to go back, there are countless things I would change, but most of all I would tell myself not to let others' cruelty and disregard change my smile and my overall outlook on the world and life itself. Now after years of hurt and anger, I'm trying to backtrack and gain back some of my softness and trust. I'm trying to make the most out of what are most likely my beloved Papaw's final days/weeks/months/years, we don't know but he's very ill. Trying to care for him at this point has really brought me back down to Earth. He has cared for me and been my rock throughout my whole life and I would be ashamed if I wasn't there for him now. I want nothing in return except for him to know how much he's been appreciated and how much he has helped and made my life better. Being his granddaughter has always made me so proud. He's helped so many people, whether the masses will admit it or not and he's one of the strongest people I know. When he leaves me someday, I know it will not be because he wanted to or didn't fight.
I believe that the Lord sees everything that we do and that he knows our intention. Sometimes that's good, sometimes we should be ashamed! I believe we will pay for everything we do in life, good or bad, and I'm not speaking of our salvation, that's not my place. I think the universe has its own way of paying us back. This is what I'm struggling with right now. We're doing the right things and it seems like bad things are still happening to us constantly. Maybe it's just a test and things will be better soon and we will be stronger people in the end. I hope so. Until then, if I can just keep the things I have right now I will be content.
In closing, I just wanted to say, "Change the world with your smile. Don't let the world change your smile," that's what I'm trying to do and I think if more people got onboard and tried to help instead of casting stones, and attempt to see the positive in things, we may all be a happier people.
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