Tag: #mrsmith

Be a Stopper

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I’m not very good at quitting. As soon as that thought entered my mind, another thought followed. ‘You don’t have to quit, but you can stop.’

I’m good at stopping.

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In speaking with a co-worker he said something that has been rolling around my mind for a week. We don’t know each other very well, so he had no idea my love for memes. I noticed he never posted a meme on his Facebook page. It was always a photograph with a description of the event.

He said, “People being encouraged by a saying on a meme. That is the most ridiculous thing ever!”

His comment knocked me back for a moment, but I quickly realized I’ve had that thought before.

At the time, I was scheduling an encouraging meme to post automatically the next morning. A lady thanked me for starting her day with something positive, but then I wondered…’Why are you looking through your phone for encouragement?’

I’ve done it too. Whenever I needed encouragement I’d scroll through my own Facebook page. Hah!

In 2017, I taught myself how to make memes. If you google Letitgocoach, and click images, you will see some, but once I learned, I was ready to learn something else. Making memes is a nice tool to have, but they’ve lost their sparkle in my life.

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Smith and I stopped seeing one another. We had a beautiful journey, but we stopped several times. The time between stops got longer until we knew our journey had come to a close. It was a sweet ending and then I saw a meme he posted on Facebook. He announced his single status in a joking way.

He used a meme and it was humorous, but I thought it ironic that the end of our relationship was summed up in a meme. I’m not hurt by it. I know it’s his way to lighten the seriousness of the situation with humor, so I’m happy he can do that.

I may not be a quitter, but I’m a good stopper.

Give it Time

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I wish to encourage you today. No matter where you are in your journey…give it time. Time heals all.

After 14 years of Blogging, a woman is finally where she yearned to be with her Blog, and her writing. This is only my fifth year. I’m going to give it time.

When I begin a new venture, such as working part-time at the pizza place, I tell myself to go with the flow for at least 30 days before forming an opinion. I’m well past 30 days, and it feels like home.

I’ve been hard on myself recently about The Morning Pages. I just can’t seem to be consistent writing in a notebook every morning. Some day I wants to and other days I just look at it with a smirk.

Maybe it’s not the right time…

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Patience. Smith taught me that. I can’t tell you how many times I hit the ‘pause’ button on our relationship. Too numerous to count, but Smith is extremely patient. He gave me time and space to be alone. To figure things out in my own time.

It takes time to have a lasting relationship.

No matter where you are today my lovely.

Just give it time.

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It’s Romantic Football

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A change in perspective.

In any relationship you need to spend time together. Even if it’s sitting in the same room. Just be present with one another. Make the most of every moment.

When we first met, I didn’t like football.

Our second year, I had breast cancer.

By the third year, I realised football was not going away. It was a part of his life, and so was I. How to intertwine the two? Add a part of me to football.

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Welcome to Romantic Football.

I light candles along the mantle, and in the room, but the mantle is always lit during football.

This past football season I’ve been present, and it’s been enjoyable. I actually like football now.

When we’re together, it’s romantic football.

These Two Worlds

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If I sit in the presence of Mr. Smith long enough, the conversation tends to grow deep. Not from me, but from him. I listen, become more quiet, until no words can form. I feel it.

This morning, we were sitting on the back porch, coffee in hand, watching Stork fly in over the lake. I feel a sense of peace when I see Stork. He has always revealed I am in a safe space. This morning, I felt my layers being peeled back one by one, and it was a gentle process. Smith was pointing out how I visit on the weekend, and then I pack up and leave.

I have two lives. The one with Smith on the weekends, and the one with my daughter during the week. My daughter visits some, but that is all it looks like is a weekend visit. My heart is torn between these two worlds.

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Smith has never loved me like I imagined I would be loved. He loves me better.

This morning was one of those times where he gently dug down to the heart of the matter. No more skimming over the surface, and the end result was a feeling of rawness. I thought I was holding it together pretty well, living this double life. But, I don’t have to ‘hold it all together’ anymore.

It’s always been my daughter, and me. Even when I was married to her father, it was really just the two of us. There comes a time where you don’t know which way is home. I have two houses, but which one is home?

Bringing three lives together, and enjoying one life. People say it’s a hard thing to do, but from where I sit, it’s harder not to.

One More Day

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I am going to post two Blogs today. It doesn’t happen often, but I have another one in me. If you are reading this, you may want to read the one from this morning, “Which Way Home.” A change of events occurred after posting that one, and I got my one more day.

Note to self. Do not let the dog outside as you’re loading up your truck.

Mr. Smith has a Min Pin, (miniature Doberman Pincher), that decided to race out the door as soon as I opened it. I didn’t think too much about it because he usually comes back in a few minutes. Once I finished loading my truck, I noticed the time was moving closer to my Radiation appointment, and he hadn’t returned. I was going to have to go look for him.

My left breast has a deep burn going on after 21 treatments. I started putting pure Aloe Vera on it yesterday, and thought, it would be nice to have one more day to keep it covered in Aloe. Thanks to Mr. Smith’s dog, I got my one more day. He came home an hour later.

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There was one thing I wanted to do while Smith was at work. To clean up my room.

Smith gave me this room to enjoy as I write, and tinker with stained glass. It got covered up with boxes from Christmas, and the table was full. I love this room and the view! By taking one more day to soothe my soul, I would also have it to heal my burned boob. I took a shower, put on Aloe , my Yoga pants, a comfortable t-shirt, and walked into the room.

I tore down all the empty boxes, and have them ready to be picked up. Then it was time to organize all this glass. Smith’s grandmother used to work with glass, and I am blessed to have all her leftover pieces. The tool caddy needed to be put together completely, so I did that as well. While looking at what I had in the caddy, I realized two things I would need.

While doing a Google search for the items, I felt my heart prompting me to look through the box of glass. Pulling out all of the pieces, and getting down to the bottom of the box. There is where I found the items I needed. The tool caddy is complete, and the room is cleaned, and organized. Sometimes the body and soul just need that one more day.

Which Way Home

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I started writing a Blog lastnight, but again didn’t publish it. With this 30 day challenge, I’m learning I can write anytime of day. Mama always said, “Nothing good happens after midnight.” Well, in my mind there is nothing publish worthy after 9:00 pm.

This is what’s happening in real-time. I’m sitting at the dining room table at Smith’s house, listening to my favorite CD, drinking coffee from a red mug, and looking out the sliding glass doors at the lake. It rained lastnight, and brought in fog, so the lake is not visible yet. I know the lake is there, but I cannot physically see it yet.

This reminds me of this path of life we’re on. We know we have one, but we can only see so far ahead. God gives us just enough light for the step we’re on. We take a step, and there is more light, but just enough for that step. Sitting here this morning, I wish to see more steps.

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You can see how bright the light is over the lake. The sun is trying to burn away the fog, and restore a visual of what’s there. God is in that ball of fire. He wants us to trust Him even when we cannot see very far ahead. To enjoy the present moment, but keep stepping.

Some ducks swam across the lake, as I made more coffee, and ate a piece of chocolate covered caramel. It would seem I’m on a path with many detours, but they all lead back to my  heart. During the week I am in my little farmhouse, sharing a life with my daughter.

The weekends, I’m usually at the lake with Smith. He is a Chef, and normally has to work on Saturday’s. He’s at work right now, and there is a void where his presence is absent. If he was here, I can see him sitting on the couch trying to find some football on TV. My laptop and I would move to another room and continue writing in a more serene space.

He would come and find me periodically, and make himself known. I can feel him walk into the room, and he may touch me, but he wouldn’t disturb my writing. He enjoys that I write, and encourages me with that. He also tolerates being the subject from time to time.

The sun is becoming brighter as I finish up this Blog. It will be time to start repacking my things, load up my truck, and head to Radiation. Today will be #22 out of 30 treatments.

I was tempted to call and cancel today’s appointment, but that would just prolong the inevitable. Once Radiation is complete, I will have more options. My daughter is staying with her Dad until tomorrow, so it’s very tempting to stay one more day here at the lake.

I used to know where home is. Over time of driving back and forth, I’m not really sure anymore which house is home. For some time now, when I return to the little farmhouse, and walk inside, it feels like a house. My daughter gets there, and it feels more like home, but there is still a void. I find myself each day looking forward to going back to the lake.

Smith is the most patient man I have ever met. He has been waiting for me to decide when to bring all these paths together as one big path, and the three of us to live this life together. Home is where your heart is, and today it’s in this lake house, but getting ready to leave once again. I believe it’s time for me and my heart to decide, which way is home.

 

Different Is Good

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When I’m at the lake, the coffee maker usually wakes me up. It’s set on a timer to start brewing, but this morning that didn’t happen.

I overslept because I forgot to add water.

This year has been so different. Not only walking through Breast Cancer, but my daughter and I were apart for Thanksgiving.

This was when having two separate lives showed up. She felt led to be with her father, and I wanted to be with Chef and his family. I missed her terribly, but it was nice cooking with Chef, and having Thanksgiving here.

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I have spent twenty something years cooking the entire Thanksgiving dinner myself. This year I was only responsible for two dishes. The dressing, and some sweet potatoes. Chef had everything else under control. We were going to cook the entire dinner for his family. It’s funny looking at it now, but I was so nervous about cooking the dressing!

His Mother has always made the dressing, and I was in charge of making something they had certain memories of. Keeping it Grandma’s Dressing recipe, all I could do was my very best. Thanksgiving morning, Mr. Smith went to his families home to put the turkey in the oven, and I started making my dressing. Why was I so nervous about making this one dish?

Meanwhile, my daughter had volunteered to cook Thanksgiving dinner for her Dad, and brother. She called me stressed out about cooking the ham. Being a mother, I just wanted to step in and help her, but I couldn’t. This was something she chose to do, and at 17 years old, I had faith that she could.

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She did all of this. I love the way she put the pottery I left behind to good use. This picture reflects what she saw over the years, and she duplicated it amazingly well at her young age. She make it look like Thanksgiving, even though we were apart.

The expectations we place on ourselves can be brutal.

My daughter and I both have a bit of perfectionism we struggle to let go of. The dressing turned out well, and we had a beautiful Thanksgiving. Chef did an amazing job in his Mother’s kitchen, pulling the entire meal together in record time. It’s incredible to watch him, and he only burned his fingers twice.

Maybe your holiday’s look different this year, but I am finding that different is good.

Letting go of expectations of myself, allows me to enjoy what’s in front of me instead.