Missed Words

Today, as I listened to Reba McIntyre talk about her dad and how she never heard him tell her that he loved her growing up, laughing and brushing it off, I felt sad. What was it about that generation that did not say they loved their children? I know it must have hurt her even though she understood him. All children need to hear I Love You. I try to grasp what that generation was thinking, perhaps how they were raised. Did they not hear I Love You and figured that was the right way to raise their children or were they told too much and definitely did not want to repeat the same, which I really doubt. Maybe they were never told I Love You, so they lived a life of figuring they were loved, or also doubting of their parent’s love.

Had I heard those three words growing up, it sure would have saved me a lot of time and money in counseling. While that was not the main purpose of counseling, it played a big part of my life, a missing part. I discovered that I felt unlovable and not knowing even that until the counselor helped me see the dots connected. Something was just missing. Thank God she picked up on what I said and expressed of my childhood and adulthood.

While I, too, understood, I missed that part of truly knowing. Of course, they loved me, I am their child. RIght? Then again, I was an oopsie and did they regret me more than love me, which was a thought I often had. No, they loved me. It was just not part of them to express, and I have to remember that was just the way it was for them back then. How sad though that a child has to wonder such facts that should be an important part of growth.

Some will immediately state, of course, you were loved, as you had a roof over your head, shoes on your feet and food on the table. True! Is it that hard to say I Love You though to your own flesh and blood?

One thing, I learned of never hearing I Love You was to always tell my children that I love them. They never leave or hang up the phone call without their mom saying, I Love You. In turn, they tell me that they love me, which means the world to me. Maybe I run it in the ground too much whenever we leave one another, as I have thought, but how can one not enjoy hearing those three words. If I was to leave this world or they would, I want them to never have to guess or wonder if I loved them, vice versa. My heart beats for them, more than they will ever know. The last words, no matter when, I Love You!

I am sure in my parent’s heart, it beat for me, but my heart was broken many times when growing up, playing the guessing game if I truly was loved. Sadly, growing up never hearing, I never said those words to them either. Even though, they cared for me and at the end of their lives, I cared for them. That’s love!

It is understanding but yet forgiving them and myself of what did not happen in order to go on and know deep within that they loved me, and I loved them.

Never miss the opportunity to reassure those in your life of your appreciation, pay a compliment and put a positive word in their life and the most important is, I Love You.

Tied Up In Knots

Many years ago, while we were in the thick of the pandemic, I sent my son a wind-chime as he had the perfect place. I love wind chimes.

He had just moved into this place with a back yard that reminded me of Gatlinburg. It was in the middle of a big city but hidden. I always loved to visit and help clean up the yard or help him in the house, giving it a mother’s touch and food on the stove.

This was such a big change for him. He had never enjoyed yard work growing up, as most kids, but this place captivated him and his time, as we were all home bound. This was actually a move of God for him to be in this place at this time.

Prior, he had an apartment by himself and with his work, being able to work from home, he was isolated from people. He is a people person. Work was demanding and placed him alone in this apartment for hours at a time, getting overwhelmed and I knew depression was grabbing hold. He is a lot like me so I recognized what was happening. I have written about him several times in my blog here. The Lord has a calling on his life, he knows it. Sometimes, running away from such seems like it will work but it won’t. I have been there, too. You can run but can’t hide.

This big house and yard came available and two roommates joined him and it was perfect for all three. Again, a God thing. I feel if it had not taken place, especially with the stay at home ruling, I may not have a son right now. Depression sucks life from you.

I am proud of him to move forward but also seek help from a doctor. It’s okay to take anti-depressants, if just for a bit to get through whatever. Some may feel that is a lack of faith and place that condemnation on you but it is not their journey and none of their business. Take care of you.

The wind chime arrived and soon was hung up in the tree making the sounds that some love or hate. He was not so sure at first and him and a roommate had to put a cord around them, to stop ringing. We laughed over this but soon they enjoyed the sounds and how pretty it was in the backyard.

Things happen and another move to a smaller, better house and by now the ban from leaving home and restrictions were lifted. This house had no real place to hang the wind chime. A little tree in front had to do so it would not get tangled. It is a long wind chime, perfect for the other yard.

Time went by and it remained and ringing but either wind or the neighbors twisted it up and now it was jumbled up and not pretty looking or sounding. He threw it in the shed. I was saddened but understood.

Recently, he was coming home. I have a great yard and trees so I told him to bring to me and I’ll use and enjoy once I get it back to it’s purpose, so he did.

Oh my! It was a mess. I had no idea of how this would ever be put back together. As I watched television one night, I thought I would tinker with it, one tube under, another one over and continued.

It was overwhelming. I would work on it and put it down and try another night. A couple of times I was tempted just to pitch. Not worth my time. Looking at it though, the tubes were pretty, the string was strong but it was tied up so bad. I just wanted to give up.

Isn’t that just like life? There are things we need to do and conquer but it is too hard. Thinking there is no way it can happen. Hopelessness enters our minds and we stop.

I laid this out on the floor, which was for a good week. Each night I would move tubes under and over and I started to make headway. I’d get frustrated and stop. I knew I had to keep going and finish. I have come too far to end. Again, life experiences we deal with.

I finally got the tubes and string in order. What a fantastic feeling to conquer. While I still have to hang the tubes correctly, I will attempt. I will also go through the frustration and hopelessness of it not being right. Still, I will move forward. Soon, it will be hanging in my tree and I will enjoy knowing its history and the pain to get there.

Again, life. We have to keep moving forward and not give up. Many trials and misfortunes may come but soon if we don’t give up, there’s joy and a pride within ourselves that we made it through.

This hopefully will be something that will strengthen you or my son’s ability to keep moving forward whenever times get tied up in knots and it seems there is no way out and feeling like throwing our hands up in defeat. A story his mom has written, understanding him and how each one of us struggle at times. Life experiences. Life happens.

Don’t give up.

It all falls together

Hey Babe

I am unsure why I thought of this but I know in the past, I have enjoyed hearing pet names that a spouse may give or say to their spouse, a parent to their child(ren), an owner of a pet of their pet(s), etc. I have never had that in life so it was something I would pick up on while listening.

My boys, I always use Sweetie. Now my dog when she was alive, her name was Baby. The previous foster mother named her and sure enough she was a sweet Baby, so I normally called her Baby Dog. With our cats, which we tend to have one too many. Okay, like five too many, as the apartment dwellers nearby seem to leave their cats and well, it happens, and they add up. Guess I could be called the Old Cat Lady and probably am. The cats each have their names, of course, but usually whatever comes to mind (today was Frootloop) when I am letting one in, one out and realizing they have me trained. We have two cats (brothers) that look like bookends and I refer to them as such. The only way to tell them apart is by the nose). No matter, they are a lot of company and each one has their own unique personality. The veterinarian loves when we make a day of appointments. Thankfully, we live about two miles away, so I take them two by two. Just like Noah and the Ark.

When I had cockatiel, our solid white one, called Annie, she was hand grown by my father-in-law, and she was the sweetest bird and loved to be out of the cage and with us. Sadly, she passed. I tried my hand at another one. I am not a elaborate person with names, so she became Annie 2. This bird lived a long time and would chase the cats. We had a handyman at our house doing some remodeling and he called me at work in a panic. The bird was out of her cage and the cats went under the bed. Typical, but he did not enjoy the chaos and fear of what could happen. I knew they were fine. Annie 2 was the boss.

Many months ago, I was with my son and his wife when I first heard them talking and then I heard him say, Babe, asking her a question. It made me stop and smile, thinking that is my son and loving his wife, using a pet name for her. It made me feel proud, as his mom. Still when I hear them together, he says Babe. I wondered where and why because his dad never called me anything, that I know of, except Hey. Never my name, never a sweet pet name, just Hey. Isn’t it romantic?

We had some new neighbors move into the house across the street, a young couple many, many years ago. We did not know them at first until they settled in but soon I enjoyed talking with them. I would be working out in my flowers (aka weeds) and I would hear her say, Honey or Hey Honey, Honey come here and Honey this or that. At first I thought how sweet but somewhat nauseating and realized I was just jealous. They are all honeying it up over there and then I hear mine calling me, Hey. Just great.

To find out, Honey was their cat. I felt better. In time I told them about my thoughts and feeling jealous of them saying Honey and we all laughed. I have not forgotten their cat named Honey and often cared for her when they were out of town. Honey was to have the television turned on of a special cat show during the day. Whatever Honey.

Still, going on thirty-two years, I am still called, Hey. When I do hear my name said by him, which is seldom, I sometimes am startled. So my quick trip down memory lane today was just nice and made me smile, even the fact of I am still Hey. I am just so proud of my son who can call his wife Babe and not Hey.

What do you call your spouse/significant other? If you use Hey, please come up with something sweet. Please.

https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/mind-guest-blog/why-do-we-use-pet-names-in-relationships/

https://clubd.net/2641-a-pet-name-you-call-your-significant-other.html