We Live What We Learn

He hit me!  He 'cutted'.  She called me a baby.  I'm telling on you! Can I go to the bathroom?  It's MY turn!  She isn't sharing.  And the list goes on, and on and on.  These are some things I hear on a daily basis as I substitute in an elementary classroom.  But there's one thing I hear often that has prompted this blog post.  "He's copying me!"


He's copying me.....what's the big deal?  So someone likes what you did and they decide they want to do it your way.  I usually try explaining to the young children that if someone copies them it's because what they are doing is so cool that someone else wants to do it, too. They still don't seem to get it.  I understand that.  If we're doing something and it turns out to be cool or awesome well, we don't want anyone else to do it.  We, yes, WE - even as adults, want it to be known that it was our idea before someone else starts doing it and getting credit for it.

For example, 26 years ago when we were planning for our wedding reception, we had some friends that were getting married the month before us.  We had already secured some decorations from others that we were borrowing.  These friends wanted to use the same backdrop that we were using. Now, they weren't actually 'copying' us, but rather, they liked the backdrop and wanted it for their reception.  When they asked us if they could use it I told them I'd rather they didn't because then a month later when we would be using it (inviting a lot of the same people to our reception) it would look like WE were copying THEM.  OK, I know.  Some of you (probably mostly males - because the women understand these issues better than most men) are probably thinking, "What's the big deal? You should have just let them use it.  No one would remember or probably not even care."  You're probably right.  But, I didn't want to look like I was copying someone.  I wanted it to be my own thing, not something someone else had already done.

Hindsight, it was a compliment that these friends wanted to use the same backdrop we used (even if they weren't copying us).  The wife has good taste so that just means we had the same good taste. But the point is, as much of a compliment as it may have been, I didn't want to 'copy' them and I didn't want them to 'copy' us.

So, back to the playground.....I have heard and seen these young children do things and say things that make me pause and think to myself, "Did I hear that or see that correctly?"  I've seen children, (and for the sake of this post, I'm referring to mostly young five, six, seven and eight year old children) playing 'house' and treating the doll babies tenderly and with love.  I've seen these young children caring for a friend that is crying or hurt until an adult comes over.  There are children that are eager to help clean up the messes, even if they didn't make them.  I've heard them say things to each other that makes my heart melt.  I've seen and heard their kindness.  And I think to myself, "They are being taught well in their home."  These young children are 'copying' what they see and hear at home, basically.

I have had a glimpse in the lives of many adults by the way their children act at school.  I have had a student, a six year old child, call me an "F-ing bit--" and tell me to "shut the 'f' up!" because he was mad.  I've had a child tell me that they are a "stupid idiot" and start hitting himself because he's so "stupid".  I've seen children hit and kick adults and other children when they are mad.  I've had a child tell me "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry" when they think they've done something wrong because they're afraid of getting punished.  Just the other day I had to take something away from one child because he should never have brought it to school.  He wasn't happy I took it but he was fine.  I had to take something away from another child and told her she could have it after school.  She went under the tables and cried saying she was in "so much trouble now".  Two different reactions from two different children that were living what they had learned.

I remember when I was younger and was hanging out at a friends home, her parents gave her younger brother (maybe 2 years old) some beer.  I was shocked!  They said that they would rather he drink in front of them than try to hide it from them.  The boy was only TWO years old!!  Did he become an alcoholic?  I don't know.  But he was taught that underage drinking was fine.  Heck, for that matter, my friend and I were taught that underage drinking was fine, too!  I hear of parents that sponsor parties at their home and allow the high school students to drink because they are being "supervised" by the adults. What is actually being taught is "underage drinking is OK because I said so."  And those parents are fooling themselves if they think the drinking stops when the parents say the party is over.

Every time we do or say something, we are TEACHING OUR CHILDREN, and even other people's children.  If you drink, smoke, live with your boyfriend/girlfriend, cuss, do volunteer work, do drugs, gossip, are mean to others, drive crazy (ya, my children have picked up that bad habit from ME. I'll just admit it now) steal, lie, help others, serve others, etc, whatever it is our children see or hear us do, good or bad, they are likely to end up doing it as well. MONKEY SEE - MONKEY DO.  That's just how it works. Teaching someone doesn't always require a classroom setting.  The most influential classroom for any child (or any person, really) is what they learn at home. Our young ones take what they learn from us and share it with their friends - good or bad. They live what they learn.  That is a fact.

Our 'babies' that have 'copied' us
(good or bad) from their 1st step

Just remember, someone is ALWAYS 'copying' you. You REALLY are NEVER ALONE....eyes are always on us, watching what we do so they can 'copy' us. Choose to be the good in this world. Choose to be the good example that our young ones can 'copy'.  Life is good.  You are good. Our young ones need GOOD that they can COPY.

Much love,

Debbie

Lighten your load

Have you ever found yourself carrying a heavy load, someone asks if they can help you and you say, "Nah. I've got this"?  Is that something you would do?  I've done it a million times.  I just don't want to put anyone out so I usually "tough it out" and do it myself. Sure, my back is killing me or my arms hurt by trying to carry all 10 bags of groceries in at the same time, but I get it done -- the hard way. Meanwhile, that person may wonder "Why on earth wouldn't she let me help her?  She looks like she's struggling."  But, if you say "no", typically your would-be helper is off, perhaps helping someone else in need WILLING to accept their help.

Why do we do that?  "I am woman....hear me roar!" Or, "I don't need anyone's help. I've done things myself my whole life, I'm not gonna stop now."  Or, "Why burden someone else when eventually I'll get this done myself." Or how about "I'm a big girl (or boy). I don't need to depend on anyone."

I'm sure there's many more reasons why we choose to carry our burdens/heavy loads alone.  Those were just a few examples I could think of.

Now, those of you that DO accept help from others....how does that make YOU feel?  I'm going out on a limb here and going to say it makes you feel better, free-er, happier, not so lonely, maybe even relieved to get some much needed help.  Those of you that are the ones offering help, how does it make YOU feel when someone accepts your assistance?  Again, out on a limb.....you feel good about what you've done.  You see the relief on that person's face by helping them.  You feel their joy or their happiness.  You're NOT checking off something on your 'to-do' list but rather, giving a helping hand and expecting nothing in return.  The satisfaction of knowing you've helped ease the burden of someone in need is reward enough.  It's a win/win for everyone involved!

Admittedly, I'm one of those "Nah. I've got this" kind of people.  I usually tell people I don't need help.  I have chosen for most of my adult life to turn help away.  There have been just a handful of times where I have turned to certain friends for help.  There have been MORE than a handful of times where I've needed help - spiritually, emotionally and temporally (earthly help) but have carried the "burden" alone.

Is it because I don't feel worthy of help from others?  Maybe you (me) have too much pride to admit you need help??  Is it because you have no one to ask for help?

Reality is, we ALL NEED HELP, sometimes on a daily basis.  And there is always one person that will be there to help....we just need to ask for it.  Read on ......

A few weeks ago in our Sunday School class, we were discussing the first principals of the Gospel: Faith, Repentance, Baptism and Gift of the Holy Ghost (confirmation).  As we discussed repentance, there were many comments made, really good comments.  We were discussing how we can repent and truly feel forgiven.  There was one comment that stood out to me more than the others.  This sweet sister said, "What would I tell "me" if I could talk to "myself"?"  Think about that for a moment.  How many of us have helped someone get through a tough time in their life?  (We know how we can help someone physically, but now we've changed to the spiritual or emotional help.) We've probably offered words of encouragement or said something like, "The Lord is always there for you.  He hears and answers our prayers.  He loves you.  He forgives you. Trust Him" or something along those lines.

So, as I pondered on what this dear friend said, I thought to myself, "Why am I so quick to tell others how much our Heavenly Father loves them and how His Son, Jesus Christ, paid for their sins or how I served a mission for 18 months proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ and how He atoned for all of our sins....and yet, I can't seem to place ME in that category of Him forgiving ME, TOO."  I have no qualms helping people feel the love the Savior has for them but I choose to continue to carry my "burdens" from YEARS AGO.  I KNOW the Savior died for each of us and just before His death, he took all of our sins upon him, even mine!....and yet, I CHOOSE to carry my burden....I 'refuse' to give it to him.  If I continue to carry my burdens alone and not allow the Savior to help me, my journey is going to be slow and daunting.  My path will always seem long and lonely.  My 'arms' and 'back' will hurt all the time.

Perhaps it's time to swallow my pride.  Perhaps it's time to allow others to help me, including my Savior.  The road doesn't HAVE to be difficult.  Our burdens can be made light.  We just have to accept the help that is offered, whether it be a friend, neighbor, or even a stranger offering to help carry a heavy object for you or if it be the Savior saying, "I've paid the price. Accept my help.  Let me carry your burden for you."

Matthew 11:29 teaches us: "Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls." 


A yoke is a wooden crosspiece that is fastened over the necks of two animals and attached to the plow or cart that they are to pull. By being 'yolked' together, the burden is SHARED and neither animal (or person in our case) is forced to carry out all the work, or bear the burden, alone.


I'm sure we could all enjoy some "rest for our souls".  By carrying our own burdens, that the Lord has offered to carry, our souls may still be harrowed up by those burdens.  Peace may be difficult to come by as we continue to carry our burdens alone.

As Elsa so eloquently said....LET IT GO!  Accept the Lord's help. Lighten your load, share it with the Lord and feel the peace that comes by allowing the Savior to walk with you, yolked together with Him.







My friends, we are NEVER ALONE....sometimes we just choose to ignore the help that is right in front of us.



Much love,
Debbie

A "Brave" face and a blank page

I have waited to write again.  Waited for inspiration, for SOMETHING to help rejuvenate my thought process.  I guess you could say I've had 'writers block'.  Every time I've sat down to write in my blog, my mind just wouldn't open up.  It's been just over a month since my last writing. My goal was to write AT LEAST once a month, preferably twice a month.  And then, well, these past 30 plus days my mind has just gone blank.  I wondered why.  So I took time to think about it.  And really, as some of you read this I'm guessing there will be judgment passed, bitter feelings felt and even a bit of "oh, Debbie is having a pity party".  Truth be told, I don't really care about the first two things and the third, well, no.  No pity party.  Just me, coming to terms with what I'm feeling.

See, Mom died two days after Thanksgiving.  I coped with my emotions just fine.  I kept it all under my hat, so to speak, so no one would think I was wanting attention or throwing myself a pity party.  I was concerned about everyone else and didn't want to bother anyone, so I suffered in silence.  The more I kept my feelings to myself, the worse I felt.  I've vented to my husband a lot.  He has been a solid sounding board.  Nevertheless, I have still felt frustrated, hurt, angry and even let down. I've gone through all the emotions "they" say one goes through upon the loss of a loved one.

I would see family members post on Facebook how they missed my mom so much and how she was that particular person's "best friend".  I would have people tell me how kind and wonderful my mom was (and she really was, in her own way).  People from my own town, where my mom lived with us for just over 7 years, even expressed their sorrow for her passing.  However, I started feeling bitter and angry whenever I read something or someone expressed their sorrow.  Why?  Well, because for 7 years these "best friends" rarely came to visit my mom when she lived with us.  People from my town couldn't even take an afternoon off (accept for one lone person - and that meant a lot to me that he would take the time to attend my mom's funeral) to travel an hour to attend her funeral . That hurt.  That hurt A LOT.

Then there were those that asked if there was anything they could do for me.  I always said no.  I didn't know what I needed or wanted.  I was surprised at the death of my mom - knowing it was coming but still not expecting it so soon.  I didn't know if I needed dinners brought in or gifts left for me.  So, I said no - I'm good.  Sadly, most everyone took me at my word.  I even had one friend that I've worked with/for for over 21 years tell me they were going to do something for me, give me a gift, and THAT hasn't happened.  So, as I had my head underwater trying to plan the funeral (where there were SO MANY issues with securing a church building and the logistics of feeding my entire family after wards), write the eulogy, prepare my mom's body (I and a few family members dressed my mom) and even get something turned in for the newspaper obituary (which I even managed to get THAT wrong), I found myself getting sick.  I lost my voice and 5 pounds.  (Sadly, those 5 pounds have found their way back to me!)  I barely had my voice back by the time of the funeral to give the eulogy.


I had a few friends send me condolence cards and even a couple brought over plants.  I felt special when those cards and plants arrived.  I even had one friend come over with her family one night just to drop off some chips and homemade salsa.  She didn't ASK me, but rather TOLD me that she was bringing dinner over that next Wednesday.  I so looked forward to that meal.  It was a simple homemade meal of chicken soup but it was SOOO delicious.  It was the ACTION that was more satisfying than the meal itself.

Then there was the task of going through my mom's belongings.  That was no easy task.  My mom had a LOT of STUFF.  I was mostly interested in pictures and things with sentimental value.  So, I had five boxes placed out - one for me and each of my siblings.  If I came across something for a sibling, I put it in their box.  That was kind of fun, taking a walk down memory lane.  Then, sadly, I started finding things that I wished I hadn't.  Apparently, Mom had given money to people or signed documents for cars or houses. You name it, and someone had taken advantage of my mom in some way, shape or form.  The sad thing is that it appears that some people don't really care who they (pardon the expression) "screw over"....just as long as they get what they want.  And my mom wanted to be needed so bad, that she gave to these family members.  Then to top it off....my box had the least amount of stuff that my mom had kept.

I realized where my hurt was coming from.....I WANTED my mom.  I told her when she came to live with us that we didn't NEED her but rather we WANTED her.  Apparently my mom wanted to be needed or rather, she NEEDED to be NEEDED.  She was so busy helping those that NEEDED her, that we were never able to develop that relationship I had always wanted.  I guess in a way, you could say I needed my mom, too, but just didn't know it.  I needed my mom to love me as much as she showed her love to the others.  I found a letter I had sent to her when I was a senior in high school. In this letter I had apologized for sneaking out of the house to go see my boyfriend.  At 17 years of age I was BEGGING my mom to forgive me and to love me.  I BEGGED her telling her I wanted that close mother/daughter relationship. That never came to be.  I realized now, as a 49 year old daughter, that I had always wanted my mother's love and friendship, even 32 years later I was seeking that relationship.

And now, with her death and everything I have experienced in the last two months since her death and from going through her belongings, I realize I never got what I had longed for.  I realized it was something I had been chasing for over 30 years.  I guess that's why I never really ask others for help. I guess that's why I put on that brave face.  I guess that's why I try not to depend on others. Because I'm afraid of getting hurt.  I'm afraid of being let down. I'm simply afraid.

Mom didn't have much money left upon her death because she had spent it on others or loaned it to other family members.  I don't even know what's happening with her estate because she wouldn't even trust me enough to put me in charge of it.  She didn't leave me anything that I'm aware of.  But I did get her dog. People have said, "Your mom loved you enough that she left you her most prize possession...her dog."  My mom left me her dog because she knew I would take good care of Ladee and Ladee knew me and my family since she lived with us for 7 years.  It wasn't because she trusted me the most but rather because she knew I was responsible enough to take good care of her dog. Funny thing, whenever she needed someone to look after her or if she felt lonely (she had moved out to help a family member buy a house with money she loaned him) she would call me and say, "Can I spend the night at your house?  I don't want to be alone."  She knew she could always count on me when she needed it most. That should be some sort of consolation, right?  Sometimes being the "responsible" child just isn't enough. I still longed for the love of my mother.

So, I've laid my feelings out there.  If you find yourself offended, I make no apologies.  I'm hoping as more time goes by that I will find my mind and heart freed from the pain, hurt, bitterness, anger and disappointment.  Just know that when people put on that brave face in the midst of trials or adversity, they still may need a little extra hug or card or, in my case....chocolate!





I'm sure I'm not alone in my feelings. I'm willing to bet that many of you have experienced these same feelings, or similar, in your darkest hours.  I'm sure you have felt just as alone as I have....but believe me....when you are feeling this way and think no one else is or has or will feel this way, know that you are NEVER ALONE.  We all travel down similar roads and yet experience the same things. We just THINK we're alone, but we're not.  Remember - we are all weary travelers and just need to help each other along the way.  Perhaps next time I see you travelling down this road, and my burden seems heavy, as I reach out to help you, it just may lighten BOTH our loads.

God bless.

Debbie

My Footprints

Within the last 19 years I have lost people that meant a lot to me.  First I lost my daddy.  He was about 50 years old.  His heart just gave up.  Then, a few years later, I lost my grandma (my dad's mom).  She was a sweet woman - somewhere in her 70's (maybe even 80's), I think.  I'm not 100% sure what she died from....cancer?  Some time after that, I lost my sweet 17 year old nephew to leukemia.  My granddaddy (yes, my dad's dad and grandma's husband) passed away a few years ago. He was in his late 80's, I think.  I don't know what his actual cause of death was but I know he missed my grandma.  And just this past November (the 26th, to be exact), my mom passed away.  She was 71 and had been battling diabetes, which lead to other complications and then colon cancer came along. Her heart finally gave up.

But DON'T STOP READING.....this post isn't a sad post, I PROMISE!

Daddy, Me and Jennifer

I only tell you about "my" losses to open a few thoughts up to you.  You see, when I think of my daddy (yes, even at 49 years of age, I still refer to him as my daddy) I think of a man that loved others.  He wasn't a church goer or a religious man but he had a big heart.  He actually died a homeless man.  Nevertheless, he was loving and kind.  Don't get me wrong...he wasn't perfect and yes, he had a temper and he even used foul language, smoked and drank.  But, when I remember him I remember the man that loved others and treated others with kindness.

Grandma and my Daddy
(couldn't find a pic of
Grandaddy at my finger
tips)

Then there's my grandma and my granddaddy.  They were a great pair.  I have fond memories of being with them as a young child.  My parents divorced when I was a baby but I always spent time with my grandparents.  I learned that grits and fried eggs were DELICIOUS, or maybe it's because they were made with love by my southern "grown" grandma.  Granddaddy always took us in the backyard to see the big old tortoise and feed him lettuce.  We would go over the "thinking cap" bridge whenever we would go out on drives with Granddaddy.  They were good people.  All their neighbors knew and loved them!

Cory

Cory - my 17 year old nephew.  He was a "good boy".  Perfect?  Nah. But a good, respectful young man with a heart of gold and a smile that lit up a room.  I remember him playing the piano one time and he looked at me and said, "Aunt Debbie!  Wanna watch me 'tickle the ivories'??" Whenever I hear that phrase, I think of Cory and the love for life he had. He left a lasting footprint in the lives of all those he came in contact with. He was loved deeply by his peers at school and even his leaders.  In fact, the school asked if we could hold his funeral on a Saturday so the administration team could attend - along with A LOT of the student body. Yes.  He left footprints - GOOD footprints, for sure.

Mom and me - a few years ago

Mom.  Mom and I didn't have that tight, close-knit, mother-daughter relationship that others have but we still had a good relationship.  She was always willing to help others.  She loved feeling needed. She WANTED to be needed.  Christmastime each year (she lived with us for 7 years) she would donate money or gifts to strangers, either through an organization or through a friend.  She just made sure she donated something to someone.  Our children have fond memories of my mom living with us.  We would play games or watch TV with her.  She would take them to 7-11 to get slurpees just for the heck of it.  She was a giver...not always, but she DID give.

So, what does this have to do with anything?  Well, as I was pondering on what to blog about for my last post for 2016 I thought about writing about resolutions.  I mean EVERYONE does at least one resolution each year, right?  But then I thought, who wants to read about resolutions?  That would be so easy and "typical".

Then I thought about people in my life....people that have come and gone and the impressions they have left on me - the FOOTPRINTS they have left on my life, on my heart.  Then I thought about ME.....what kind of footprints am I leaving?  When I'm gone, what will be said about me?  What kind of legacy am I leaving behind for others to remember me by?

I want people to remember me for my love for others, my humor (as funny as it may NOT be even), my willingness to help others, my love of family, how I made them feel when they were around me. And THEN I THOUGHT....what if I'm not leaving that kind of footprint in other's lives?  What if I'm being remembered as selfish, unkind, thoughtless, abrasive, etc?  WHAT IF???

So, as we roll into 2017 and make new year's resolutions, perhaps we first think about the FOOTPRINTS we are leaving behind.  Sure, we all want to lose that last 5 pounds (well, for some of us, it may be more like 15 pounds but I'm not telling you my weight!) or start working out more or get a better job or read more books or learn to knit (ha! I already know how to knit so that's not on MY list this year!).  But how many of us think about the footprints we are leaving in the lives of others?  People may not remember that I was a little overweight but they will certainly remember if I was unkind to them.  They will remember how I made them feel when they were around me.  They will remember....they WILL remember.


Some footprints sink deeper in the hearts of others, so let us work harder in 2017 on leaving POSITIVE, LASTING footprints that will cause people to think, "Wow!  She was always a good person" or "I loved being around him.  He always made me feel like a better person."  Even when we think we are travelling this road alone, please remember, you are NEVER ALONE.....because you are always leaving a footprint in someone's life.

Much love and happiness to you all!  And Happy New Year!  May 2017 bring you joy and happiness and the strength to make it through whatever comes your way!!

Debbie

Was it Enough?

Do you ever wonder, "Did I do enough? Could I have done more?  Could I have been better?"

Well, the answer to each of those questions is "Yes. Yes. And yes."  But if I answered "yes" to the first question, then the other two questions aren't necessary.....or are they?

Mom/Grandma - holding the signs
to welcome Jennifer home from her
mission - 18 months away from home

I've had a lot to reflect on this past week.  My 71 year old mother passed away on November 26th. She had lived with us for 7 years.  She was diagnosed with colon cancer two months ago. But THAT didn't take her from us.  See, about 10 years ago she had part of her right leg amputated.  She suffered from diabetes. She was diagnosed with diabetes later in life and never really took good enough care of herself to prevent complications from arising.  So, along with losing part of her leg, she also lost part of her life.  Her life was never going to be what it was before the surgery. We brought her home to live with us - a small family of five, now six.

Thanksgiving 2016
The last family picture with
Mom/Grandma

I told my husband, "I'm kind of looking forward to having my mom live with us.  We never really had that close mother/daughter relationship so this just may be what it takes to develop that closeness."  I should have known that only fairy tales have happily ever after endings.  It was an up and down ride for seven years.  There were times we got along great. And there were times I wished she could grow another leg and move out to be on her own again.  Don't get me wrong.  I loved my mother.  I never had harsh words with her.  I never told her I hated her.  I never said things that would cause me regret later in life.

However, now that she's gone, I've asked myself those same three questions...."Did I do enough? Could I have done more?  Could I have been better?"  Those are the questions that haunt me because the answers all end up being YES.

Don being silly - pretending to be
asleep on Mom's lap

Did I do enough?  Yes - with the relationship I had with my mother, yes, I did enough.  My mom didn't allow me to be more than what I was to her.  She loved me.  I know she loved me.  I always wanted more of a relationship but that wasn't meant to be. With the relationship we had, we weren't best friends, but we weren't enemies either.  I was there for her for seven years.  When she was sick, I was there.  When she was hungry, I was there. When her dog needed to be taken care of, I was there. When she wanted to go grab a bite to eat, I was there.  We did things together.  We laughed together. We cried together.  We fought together.  But in the end, we were both there for each other....as much as we would allow the other to be.

Could I have done more?  Yes.  I could have spent MORE time with her.  I could have shown more love and compassion toward her.  I could have invited her to more places with me.  I could have laughed more with her.  I could have done A LOT more with my mom....and the same could be said about her....about you....about the person next to you.  We can ALL do more.

June 2013 - Jennifer's high school
graduation. Grandma was there

Could I have been better?  Yes.  I could have been a better daughter, just as she could have been a better mother, just as I can have been a better friend, sister, neighbor.  See, we can ALL be better at whatever we are, whatever we are doing.  It's just a matter of taking that extra step.  Just when we think we're done...take one more step.  Do a little better.

I have learned things about my mom, since her passing, that I didn't know about her.  People have reached out to me telling me "She always sent cards to me for my birthday." Or, "We mailed books to each other all the time.  She started it.  I loved getting her books each month."  Even, "Your mom always made me laugh. We loved having her around."  I didn't know so many people knew and loved my mom.

I used to tease her about paying her bills.  She worked for the post office YEARS ago but she never mailed her payments if the place was local.  She would always go into Target or Kohl's or Verizon to pay her bills.  It wasn't until after her death when one of my brothers and I were talking that I realized that she paid her bills in person because she wanted to be with people.  My mom was a people person.  I realized too late that I should have spent more time with my mom because that's all she wanted....was to be with people.

Feb. 2016 - picking Jennifer up
from the airport - Mom was with us

My mom was not the easiest person to get along with all the time. Not many people can claim that personality trait.  Being a likeable person 24/7 takes a lot of work for some of us.  Some come by it naturally.  My mom tried to be a good person all the time. Perhaps in the eyes of others, she was.  In my eyes she was a flawed individual with a giving heart.  She wasn't perfect but neither am I.  She liked telling people, "I looked just like Debbie when I was her age."  I hated it every time she said that.  Now? Well, I don't mind it now.  I don't mind that she thought we were built from the same mold.  My flawed mother was a good woman with a lot to offer.  Many saw it. Many admired it. Many will miss her.  I will miss her.

I told a neighbor that my mom passed away.  She said something profound that I will never forget: "Your mom loved life.  She just wasn't able to ENJOY it anymore."  I believe that's why she finally let eternal sleep take over.  If you stop enjoying what you love, it's time to move on.  My mom has moved on.  She is in a better place.  She has TWO legs now.  She is with her mom and dad and other people that know and love her.  I will see her again some day.  And maybe THEN we will have that close relationship I'd always wanted.

Thanksgiving 2016
34 hours before she passed

Did I do enough?  Could I have done more?  Could I have been better? Was it enough?  Yes.  And I will continue to do more, be better, give 'enough' so that others will feel loved and accepted like my mom tried to do.  We all want to be loved.  We all want to be needed.  Don't let another day pass without making someone feel loved.  Reach out to that person that may appear lonely.  Embrace them.  Accept them for who they are. We can help someone else not feel so alone.  Sometimes we feel alone but please always remember, and never forget, we are NEVER ALONE even when we are by ourselves.  People are with us....even when we can't see them.

I love you, Mom.
Love,

Debbie

Skeletons in My Closet

EDIT:
Because of a comment by someone, I feel the unnecessary need to clarify "Saint" as used in my original title. I was NOT referring to ME as a "holy person", such as St. Peter. I was merely referring to me as a saint....a believer in Christ, not perfect, but trying to be better each day (similar to Paul's reference in the Bible when he referred to the people of a certain area as "saints"....as in a group of believers). I am sorry for anyone that misunderstood my "saint" reference.

Now, back to the blog post......enjoy!

You know that proverbial saying - "We all have skeletons in our closet", right?  I'm sure some skeletons can tell bigger tales than other skeletons.  Perhaps this post would be better served if I did it in the Spring....where we could all clean out that "closet" and get rid of those skeletons as part of our Spring cleaning.  But then there's that other saying - "There's no better time like the present" - or something like that.  So, here goes.....!

I recently posted something on my Facebook page about "don't judge me. Love me and accept me but don't judge me."  I thought more about that post the last few days.  Those thoughts have been nagging away at me until I finally decided to sit here and "confess" to all of you. Like I said in my Facebook post - I'm not perfect.  I've never claimed perfection.  However, not many people post their failings and disappointments all over social media.  We WANT people to think we're "perfect" or live a super great life.  We don't tend to let people into the "mess" of our lives.  If I know company is coming over, I grab the vacuum cleaner and get the floors done.  I may even grab a cloth and get the shelves dusted.  I will certainly clean off the counter tops, and fluff the pillows on the couch and even open the blinds to let the sunshine in!  I want you to see my house looking NICE and CLEAN. Isn't that how we present OURSELVES, too?  Now, mind you, that's NOT A BAD THING. I really don't want to answer the door with morning breath and my hair sticking in a hundred different directions.  I don't want to scare anyone and cause them not to like me or not want to come over anymore.

Maybe that's why we keep those skeletons in that closet....because if we introduced them to everyone, well, they just may run the other direction (the people, not the skeletons!). I think sometimes we like to look at certain people and say, "Man, I wish I had the perfect life that they have" because we want to hope that our own lives could be better.  But, if we knew their skeletons, we would know that person is just as "normal" as we are.

I was once trying to get a point across to our then teenage daughter. I don't remember what the message was that I was sharing with her but during this little "talk" with her I mentioned how I had tried alcohol when I was younger (it went along with the moral of the story). Well, that skeleton kind of freaked her out.  She lost the whole message, the whole moral of the story, because she was stuck on the fact that her "perfect" mom had tried alcohol before.  She just couldn't get past the fact that I wasn't "perfect".  (Side note - she's fine now and still loves her "IMperfect" mom. ;) ).

My husband and I were raised in the same religion and yet came from completely different backgrounds.  His family was very religious - church every week, family prayer, family scripture study, mom and dad happily married, etc.  My family, on the other hand, was just the opposite. I don't want to throw anyone in my family under the bus so I'll just say that we didn't do anything like my husband's family did.  In fact, my parents divorced when I was about two so I don't even know what it's like to have a father in the home.

Anyway, I experienced different things in my growing up years than my husband did.  I was a cheerleader (school mascot) in high school.  I would go to all the parties after the football games. Everyone knew I was the "good Mormon girl" and didn't drink so when we played the drinking game "Quarters" people liked sitting by me because when I got my quarter in the shot glass, the person sitting NEXT to me got to drink my shot. So, was I REALLY the "good Mormon girl"?  In a word, yes.  In action?  Perhaps I shouldn't have been at those parties but I REALLY wanted to be accepted and have friends.  I was always looking for love in all the wrong places (and if you just sang that line to the music then you and I are meant to be friends forever!).  

It wasn't until after high school that I tasted alcohol.  I tried beer with my high school sweetheart. That's the most nasty tasting stuff ever.  I suppose there's worse tasting stuff but I never went THAT far. I tried champagne once and didn't like it either.  I just wasn't meant to be a drinker - for which I'm glad for that.

I never did drugs, worried about STD's, smoked cigarettes or even used foul language.  I was, for all intents and purposes, a 'good girl'.....I just lived a different life than my husband.  I even wore a bikini at one point in my life (when I had the body that looked good in a bikini! Now I should probably wear a mumu!).

Well, these "skeletons" came out of the closet while I was dating my future husband.  He, at one point, said to me, "I don't think I can handle your past."  I remember that evening.  I looked at him and said, "I've been judged once by the Lord. I will NOT be judged by you" and I turned and walked away.  He later talked to his bishop (ecclesiastical leader) - who also happened to be his brother - and sought his advice.  Keep in mind, my "past" that he was referring to happened BEFORE I served an 18 month mission for my church, BEFORE I was truly converted to the Lord, BEFORE I had a deep testimony of the Gospel.  His bishop/brother, in all his wisdom, looked at him and said, "What are you looking for? She is a return missionary.  She has a testimony of the Gospel. And she wants an eternal family. What more do you want?"  I will be forever grateful to that brother-in-law and the counsel he gave to my future husband.

I had a friend tell me about a situation with her daughter.  She and her daughter and her daughter's friend were talking.  They shared how one of their friends had done something "bad" with his girlfriend. Then both girls said they could never date a guy that would do something like that (a morality issue) because it's against what they believe.  She told them 'Then why bother repenting if he's just going to be judged for his mistake for the rest of his life?  Doesn't the Atonement take care of our sins?'  I guess that "woke" those girls up real quick.  She said they looked really shocked that they hadn't thought of that point.

From a religious standpoint - that mom is correct.  Doesn't the Atonement of Jesus Christ take care of our skeletons?  Isn't our closet cleaned out when we repent?

From a non-religious standpoint (and a religious one, too, I guess) - do we really want to keep living in our past?  Do we want or allow our past to dictate our future?

Notice how skeletons have no meat on them?  They are dried up, brittle bones.  They have no substance to them and are of no use except on Halloween when you decorate your house with "scary" stuff.  That's exactly what our past mistakes, past bad decisions are....dried up, brittle and of no use. We can certainly LEARN from our past.  But to carry those skeletons with us wherever we go?  That just seems pointless.  What a burden to bear, an unnecessary burden at that.


I'm going to access this from a religious standpoint - but please feel free to apply it to your life as you see fit.  I am not perfect.  I have made many mistakes in my life.  My growing up years were difficult. I made decisions that I regret.  I can't undo what's been done.  I can live in regret and never feel true happiness.  I can reveal all my sins to you and let you judge me (as is human nature, I guess) and perhaps seeing my flaws will make you feel like a better person because "I would never have done what SHE did." I can let those skeletons dictate my life - afraid people will see them and run from me and avoid me.  I can never forgive myself and live miserably because of my past.

OR

I can apply the Atonement of Jesus Christ to my life.  I can know He loves me regardless of my past. I can walk tall, with my head held high, knowing I am on the right path.  I can learn from my past and create a better future.  I can know that I've been forgiven by the one that matters most and I need to forgive myself.  I can admit that I am not perfect but will continue to try and be a better person each day.  I can love myself - because I am worthy of being loved.





I am NEVER ALONE....and neither are you.

Close that closet.  Those skeletons aren't there.....the Lord took care of them.

Much love,
Your imperfect friend,
Debbie