Halfdollar: January 7, 2014
2013....I am letting you go.....s...: January 7, 2014 2013....I am letting you go.....slowly. Most of my Christmas decorations are still in place. Sigh..... I need to put th...
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Friday, January 10, 2014
January 7, 2014
2013....I am letting you go.....slowly.
Most of my Christmas decorations are still in place. Sigh..... I need to put them away.
I am taking my own sweet time packing 2013 and Christmas away. I am not lazy or sentimental this year at all.....yet.....it is as if 2013 is one unruly year to put away or forget.
2013 was hard.....
It started last January........
My dad got the flu in spite of his flu shot and I took care of him and nursed him back to life.
After my "super angel nurse" (his words not mine) stint taking care of my father, I was sick on and off for several months with various respiratory illnesses that culminated in my being really sick at Artsplosure with a fever of over 102 degrees for most of the festival. If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger?
This entire year my thyroid levels kept going up and down and are still being regulated with some not so pleasant side effects.....
We lost Grandpapa this year to brain cancer. He was very precious to us. After his death, we had some ugly family betrayal stuff that was revealed that made mourning him more difficult.
Work was super stressful this year and one of our key team members left to take another job which added more work and anxiety onto an already crazy timeline for First Night.
The culminating event for me was an emergency appendectomy on Christmas Eve:) Oh Joy....
In a weird way---it was almost as if all of the rotten stuff that happened in 2013 year concentrated in this one useless organ in my body and just HAD to come out. I felt immediately better after it was removed. It was almost symbolic to have this taken out of my body and destroyed. (I think my appendix was sort of shaped like 2013.)
Lest I sound like a cry baby---2013 was not all bad.
I learned to love to run and ran my first 5K race at Disney World.
Our month at Wrightsville Beach was amazing and we shared some amazing and warm memories with both of my daughters and Grandpapa.
I traveled to St. John's, Newfoundland CA and Bury, UK for work and reconnected and deepened friendships with many folks from across the globe that I admire and respect and love and enjoy.
I learned to appreciate my amazing daughters for the gorgeous loving people they have become. They rocked Christmas Eve when I was in surgery and they carried on with our Christmas Eve Dinner and made this mom proud.
My work inspires and amazes and keeps me young and alive more than ever. I am grateful I love to work and have a job that I love. I love what I do and I do what I love. I am grateful every single day for this.
I am loved and cherished and encouraged to be all I can be by a great guy I have been with for over 30 years.
I will embrace 2014 with whatever it throws my way. I will laugh and love and work and appreciate life.
2013---I have some boxes waiting for you.
2014---I have some stories to tell you.
2013....I am letting you go.....slowly.
Most of my Christmas decorations are still in place. Sigh..... I need to put them away.
I am taking my own sweet time packing 2013 and Christmas away. I am not lazy or sentimental this year at all.....yet.....it is as if 2013 is one unruly year to put away or forget.
2013 was hard.....
It started last January........
My dad got the flu in spite of his flu shot and I took care of him and nursed him back to life.
After my "super angel nurse" (his words not mine) stint taking care of my father, I was sick on and off for several months with various respiratory illnesses that culminated in my being really sick at Artsplosure with a fever of over 102 degrees for most of the festival. If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger?
This entire year my thyroid levels kept going up and down and are still being regulated with some not so pleasant side effects.....
We lost Grandpapa this year to brain cancer. He was very precious to us. After his death, we had some ugly family betrayal stuff that was revealed that made mourning him more difficult.
Work was super stressful this year and one of our key team members left to take another job which added more work and anxiety onto an already crazy timeline for First Night.
The culminating event for me was an emergency appendectomy on Christmas Eve:) Oh Joy....
In a weird way---it was almost as if all of the rotten stuff that happened in 2013 year concentrated in this one useless organ in my body and just HAD to come out. I felt immediately better after it was removed. It was almost symbolic to have this taken out of my body and destroyed. (I think my appendix was sort of shaped like 2013.)
Lest I sound like a cry baby---2013 was not all bad.
I learned to love to run and ran my first 5K race at Disney World.
Our month at Wrightsville Beach was amazing and we shared some amazing and warm memories with both of my daughters and Grandpapa.
I traveled to St. John's, Newfoundland CA and Bury, UK for work and reconnected and deepened friendships with many folks from across the globe that I admire and respect and love and enjoy.
I learned to appreciate my amazing daughters for the gorgeous loving people they have become. They rocked Christmas Eve when I was in surgery and they carried on with our Christmas Eve Dinner and made this mom proud.
My work inspires and amazes and keeps me young and alive more than ever. I am grateful I love to work and have a job that I love. I love what I do and I do what I love. I am grateful every single day for this.
I am loved and cherished and encouraged to be all I can be by a great guy I have been with for over 30 years.
I will embrace 2014 with whatever it throws my way. I will laugh and love and work and appreciate life.
2013---I have some boxes waiting for you.
2014---I have some stories to tell you.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
December 11, 2013
The Talking Boxes of My Life
Recently, I have begun the insurmountable task of going through the boxes of my life.
Most of these boxes reside in our attic. Part of this attic is truly designed for storage---plywood floors not heated---smells musty---you get the picture.
The other part is actually just a large room finished like the rest of the house.
Throughout the 28 years that we have lived in this house, this room has served all kinds of purposes. It was a guest room for some years, a play room for other years, and a private room for the now deceased cat for many years. For the past 6 or 7 years it has become the land of forgotten boxes. These boxes make the room look like something from the Hoarder's Show. To me---these boxes look like stories that need to be told.
There are boxes of art supplies for projects yet to do on snowy days. There are boxes of baby clothes and dolls and toys for future grandchildren to enjoy. There are boxes of memories that my girls have collected throughout childhood. There are boxes of old financial records. There are boxes of record albums.
Mostly, the space is filled with boxes and boxes, and bins and bins, and baskets and baskets of old cards, letters, photos, and VHS tapes.
All of these boxes seem to be saying to me, "Listen to me! I have things to tell you."
I think of excuses as to why all of these boxes and bins and baskets of photos, letters, and VHS tapes have not been organized properly. WHY am I saving them?
Maybe it was because my mother died when I was 21 years old and I feel the need to save and record everything. If anyone reading this blog ever mailed me a card or hard copy letter---I probably still have it. If I ever took a picture of you---I probably have it still. If I ever took a video of you---yep---it's there. I don't throw this kind of thing away. Ever. (My email boxes are also full with tens of thousands of emails--I don't trash those either:)
I absolutely love the boxes that contain handwritten letters and cards.
I cherish each and every handwritten letter I have received from anyone. These treasures are very personal. Emails seem sterile in comparison.
I count as some of my most precious possessions the handwritten letters that my mother and Clark's mom--wrote to me. One of the worst problems with trying to go through these boxes is that invariably I will come across a special letter. Women from my mom and Clark's mom's generation were especially skilled with pen on paper. Even though they have both passed away, their words come alive when I read the letters.
I sit there on the floor reading these long lost letters and they bring back in vivid detail my memory of the time they were written and I laugh, or cry, and then a hour has passed and nothing is finished......the boxes talk and they are still there. I know when I read them that they loved me and cared for me and it's reaffirming.
The photos speak and take lots of time to go through too..... but....the worst (best) are the video tapes. They take up the most physical space and they actually do speak and provide the most compelling slices of life.
One tape can take an entire day for me to finish.
I was one of those people who recorded almost everything on VHS tape that my family did. No activity was too unimportant to record on tape.
I cherish these tapes more than I can tell you. My mother died before we all had video taping devices and I can hardly remember what her voice even sounded like.
But....I have actual live real video of my children, my husband, my father, Grandmama and Grandpapa speaking. They are frozen in time as they were when I recorded them and once I start watching these slices of life I can't get enough.
Most of these tapes are just me videotaping them doing their day to day activities but I also have tapes of formal events such as holidays, recitals, and many performances of theatre and dance.
My absolute favorite tapes are the interview tapes. I love to tape my family and ask them questions and interview them as if I were trying to find out their deep dark secrets. My girls would quickly grow tired of my questions but the grandparents seemed to love it. It was almost as if they realized how important this recording of history could actually be at some point in the future.
When I tape my my father he always tries to perform his silly hand trick and then he turns serious and starts talking about what a good life he has had and he always ends our taping sessions with, "The main thing is to try not to get too excited." (This makes sense only if you know my father.)
The most poignant of all tapes is a series of tapes I recorded of Clark's mom once she learned she had cancer. I asked her about her fears and hopes for the future and she spoke beautifully and eloquently with such honesty and sincerity that I get chills just thinking about it. (Her tapes are in a safer place than my attic as I know how important they will be for future generations:)
So....back to the talking boxes as my Granny would say, "Talking about it is not the same as doing something about it."
But these boxes have a story to tell....and I am going to tell it. Let the truth ring!
The Talking Boxes of My Life
Recently, I have begun the insurmountable task of going through the boxes of my life.
Most of these boxes reside in our attic. Part of this attic is truly designed for storage---plywood floors not heated---smells musty---you get the picture.
The other part is actually just a large room finished like the rest of the house.
Throughout the 28 years that we have lived in this house, this room has served all kinds of purposes. It was a guest room for some years, a play room for other years, and a private room for the now deceased cat for many years. For the past 6 or 7 years it has become the land of forgotten boxes. These boxes make the room look like something from the Hoarder's Show. To me---these boxes look like stories that need to be told.
There are boxes of art supplies for projects yet to do on snowy days. There are boxes of baby clothes and dolls and toys for future grandchildren to enjoy. There are boxes of memories that my girls have collected throughout childhood. There are boxes of old financial records. There are boxes of record albums.
Mostly, the space is filled with boxes and boxes, and bins and bins, and baskets and baskets of old cards, letters, photos, and VHS tapes.
All of these boxes seem to be saying to me, "Listen to me! I have things to tell you."
I think of excuses as to why all of these boxes and bins and baskets of photos, letters, and VHS tapes have not been organized properly. WHY am I saving them?
Maybe it was because my mother died when I was 21 years old and I feel the need to save and record everything. If anyone reading this blog ever mailed me a card or hard copy letter---I probably still have it. If I ever took a picture of you---I probably have it still. If I ever took a video of you---yep---it's there. I don't throw this kind of thing away. Ever. (My email boxes are also full with tens of thousands of emails--I don't trash those either:)
I absolutely love the boxes that contain handwritten letters and cards.
I cherish each and every handwritten letter I have received from anyone. These treasures are very personal. Emails seem sterile in comparison.
I count as some of my most precious possessions the handwritten letters that my mother and Clark's mom--wrote to me. One of the worst problems with trying to go through these boxes is that invariably I will come across a special letter. Women from my mom and Clark's mom's generation were especially skilled with pen on paper. Even though they have both passed away, their words come alive when I read the letters.
I sit there on the floor reading these long lost letters and they bring back in vivid detail my memory of the time they were written and I laugh, or cry, and then a hour has passed and nothing is finished......the boxes talk and they are still there. I know when I read them that they loved me and cared for me and it's reaffirming.
The photos speak and take lots of time to go through too..... but....the worst (best) are the video tapes. They take up the most physical space and they actually do speak and provide the most compelling slices of life.
One tape can take an entire day for me to finish.
I was one of those people who recorded almost everything on VHS tape that my family did. No activity was too unimportant to record on tape.
I cherish these tapes more than I can tell you. My mother died before we all had video taping devices and I can hardly remember what her voice even sounded like.
But....I have actual live real video of my children, my husband, my father, Grandmama and Grandpapa speaking. They are frozen in time as they were when I recorded them and once I start watching these slices of life I can't get enough.
Most of these tapes are just me videotaping them doing their day to day activities but I also have tapes of formal events such as holidays, recitals, and many performances of theatre and dance.
My absolute favorite tapes are the interview tapes. I love to tape my family and ask them questions and interview them as if I were trying to find out their deep dark secrets. My girls would quickly grow tired of my questions but the grandparents seemed to love it. It was almost as if they realized how important this recording of history could actually be at some point in the future.
When I tape my my father he always tries to perform his silly hand trick and then he turns serious and starts talking about what a good life he has had and he always ends our taping sessions with, "The main thing is to try not to get too excited." (This makes sense only if you know my father.)
The most poignant of all tapes is a series of tapes I recorded of Clark's mom once she learned she had cancer. I asked her about her fears and hopes for the future and she spoke beautifully and eloquently with such honesty and sincerity that I get chills just thinking about it. (Her tapes are in a safer place than my attic as I know how important they will be for future generations:)
So....back to the talking boxes as my Granny would say, "Talking about it is not the same as doing something about it."
But these boxes have a story to tell....and I am going to tell it. Let the truth ring!
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Talking About Talking....My First Blog
December 4, 2013
Today seemed like a pretty good day to start my first blog. I am starting this blog at the insistence of some friends who think I have something worthwhile to say. I tell myself that I am too busy to write a blog. This is the busiest month of the year for me with First Night and Christmas and my house is a wreck and there are so many reasons and excuses I can give as to why I should not write this blog or add anything additional on the "to do" list of my life.
So what compels me to start writing a blog? Well....I do like to talk and I think I have something to say.
Many of you know that I will talk to almost anybody and everybody. My grandmother used to pay me five cents not to talk for thirty minutes so she could watch her "stories" aka soap operas. I talk to strangers in line in grocery stores, and on subways, and in waiting rooms, and even to myself if there is no one else around. Talking makes me feel at ease when I am nervous, entertained when life is boring, and helps me figure things out, or gain a better understanding of things.
I come from a long line of big talkers. Ask anybody about the family I was born into---the Elliott Family--- and they will tell you that we all talk too much, too frankly, LOUDLY and ALL OF US TALK AT THE SAME TIME.
Sometimes I go with my 86 year old father to the Elliott Family Reunion, always held on the hottest day of summer in August, at the Elliott Church in Polkville, NC. It is there that I understand that big talkers really do run in my family as they have for generations.
Whenever my brothers and my dad and I get together, in-laws and other family members sometimes leave with a headache from all the talking. I am not around them much these days, but it seems perfectly normal to me to have 4 people talking at once. It's entertaining and fun in short amounts. It feels like home in a weird kind of way.
My mother was a great conversationalist, but she was also a great listener. I like to think that I inherited her listening skills as well as my Elliott family's "gift of gab" but seriously I have trained myself to be a better listener. My husband Clark is a big advocate of Dale Carnegie and has assisted in my training to listen as well as speak in a conversation.
One of the benefits of talking frequently and getting it all out there is you usually know where you stand with the person you are talking to.
The Elliotts don't harbor a lot of passive aggressive thoughts and feelings. These things are always talked about. If one family member is ticking you off or you feel wronged by another family member---you are going to hear about it until you are sick of it or until it gets resolved.
As a matter of face EVERYONE within earshot is going to HEAR about it. Elliotts also consider it their complete duty and right to point out certain things that most families would perhaps only utter quietly to other family members. "You look like you have put on some weight since I last saw you." Or...."I think you have lost even more hair than last year." Or...."You have just about grown out of the ugly phase of your childhood, I am relieved to see."
These things are actually said out loud to each other at family gatherings. There is nothing you can do to stop these blurts either. If it's the truth---or at least the truth as far as my family sees it---you are going to hear it.
When I was a teenager and even into my adulthood, I could be embarrassed by the open and frank nature of my family. As I get older though, I sometimes find it refreshing. Yes, the truth can hurt---but lies and deception are far more damaging in a family.
My family is huge on telling the truth. I personally don't see truth as black and white always. I see the gray areas in order to spare feelings---but that is rare in our family.
That is not to say that our family is not huge on love and affection. Elliotts are very affectionate and loving people. We love our family members and greet them with huge bear hugs and are very demonstrative with each other and always end every conversation and meeting with "I Love You."
All of this talking about talking is giving me a headache and not starting me off on a very good foot with my first blog experience:) I promise in future blogs to be more entertaining.
I hope to tell my story. I have let a pretty interesting and rewarding life. I have also experienced some hard things in my life as well. I intend to tell it all. Let the truth ring.
Today seemed like a pretty good day to start my first blog. I am starting this blog at the insistence of some friends who think I have something worthwhile to say. I tell myself that I am too busy to write a blog. This is the busiest month of the year for me with First Night and Christmas and my house is a wreck and there are so many reasons and excuses I can give as to why I should not write this blog or add anything additional on the "to do" list of my life.
So what compels me to start writing a blog? Well....I do like to talk and I think I have something to say.
Many of you know that I will talk to almost anybody and everybody. My grandmother used to pay me five cents not to talk for thirty minutes so she could watch her "stories" aka soap operas. I talk to strangers in line in grocery stores, and on subways, and in waiting rooms, and even to myself if there is no one else around. Talking makes me feel at ease when I am nervous, entertained when life is boring, and helps me figure things out, or gain a better understanding of things.
I come from a long line of big talkers. Ask anybody about the family I was born into---the Elliott Family--- and they will tell you that we all talk too much, too frankly, LOUDLY and ALL OF US TALK AT THE SAME TIME.
Sometimes I go with my 86 year old father to the Elliott Family Reunion, always held on the hottest day of summer in August, at the Elliott Church in Polkville, NC. It is there that I understand that big talkers really do run in my family as they have for generations.
Whenever my brothers and my dad and I get together, in-laws and other family members sometimes leave with a headache from all the talking. I am not around them much these days, but it seems perfectly normal to me to have 4 people talking at once. It's entertaining and fun in short amounts. It feels like home in a weird kind of way.
My mother was a great conversationalist, but she was also a great listener. I like to think that I inherited her listening skills as well as my Elliott family's "gift of gab" but seriously I have trained myself to be a better listener. My husband Clark is a big advocate of Dale Carnegie and has assisted in my training to listen as well as speak in a conversation.
One of the benefits of talking frequently and getting it all out there is you usually know where you stand with the person you are talking to.
The Elliotts don't harbor a lot of passive aggressive thoughts and feelings. These things are always talked about. If one family member is ticking you off or you feel wronged by another family member---you are going to hear about it until you are sick of it or until it gets resolved.
As a matter of face EVERYONE within earshot is going to HEAR about it. Elliotts also consider it their complete duty and right to point out certain things that most families would perhaps only utter quietly to other family members. "You look like you have put on some weight since I last saw you." Or...."I think you have lost even more hair than last year." Or...."You have just about grown out of the ugly phase of your childhood, I am relieved to see."
These things are actually said out loud to each other at family gatherings. There is nothing you can do to stop these blurts either. If it's the truth---or at least the truth as far as my family sees it---you are going to hear it.
When I was a teenager and even into my adulthood, I could be embarrassed by the open and frank nature of my family. As I get older though, I sometimes find it refreshing. Yes, the truth can hurt---but lies and deception are far more damaging in a family.
My family is huge on telling the truth. I personally don't see truth as black and white always. I see the gray areas in order to spare feelings---but that is rare in our family.
That is not to say that our family is not huge on love and affection. Elliotts are very affectionate and loving people. We love our family members and greet them with huge bear hugs and are very demonstrative with each other and always end every conversation and meeting with "I Love You."
All of this talking about talking is giving me a headache and not starting me off on a very good foot with my first blog experience:) I promise in future blogs to be more entertaining.
I hope to tell my story. I have let a pretty interesting and rewarding life. I have also experienced some hard things in my life as well. I intend to tell it all. Let the truth ring.
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