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.

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

You Are Just Like……

Stress and worry over this virus can cause such a panic, even if you do everything possible to prevent it from attacking. Nowadays, do we even know how to trace back to whomever, as many have not taken the necessary precautions and still feel like they are immune. I don’t want to believe it is real but it is. I have had way too many people I know in the hospital dealing with it and some as far as hours of being put on the ventilator.

This past week, I had a co-worker succumb to the virus. He was in an induced coma for a month, vitals were good, then a tracheotomy and days later a heart issue appeared. No doubt that is what made the final breath. A friend in Florida, the same.

Knowing I have A-Fib, my chances are high but we never know how it might affect others, even in good health. What an evil virus, it is.

This past weekend, I had plans to go hang curtains at my son’s new house, but it just never worked out. Everything fell into place but walking in the door. I found myself frustrated but I can only do so much. I went home, somewhat aggravated at my son and the whole situation.

Little did I know until two days later, he was asleep due to a fever. As a mom, my inner screams were let me in, let me take care of you son. All the precautions somewhat go by the wayside. It did not happen. Looking back, I was prevented from entering his home and plans were diminished, which I hope to think was the Lord protecting me.

Still, now knowing details, but my son was sick. To know now that he was sick and I could not get to him, I feel like a mom failure. Is it failure though or protective? If he would call today saying, ‘mom I need you.’ I’m there. I would take my chances. In that though, he is young and will get well, I’m old and could die. I know that he would feel guilty. What to do and what not to do.

We have stayed in contact and his older brother, just ten minutes away from him where I am an hour away, knows to check on him also. It definitely gives this mom some relief and less worry. I know when I am sick, I do not think to look up information or feel up to taking medication, ask for help, etc.

Knowing how I am, I guess others are the same, I don’t know. Just let me be. I have sent him locations near him to get the Covid19 test. Last night, I sent Urgent Care locations to go get an X-ray, shot, meds. Thankfully, an Amazon delivery arrives today with an oximeter, etc. Over the days of him dealing with this alone, I can tell him some things to do to help prevent pneumonia, which he gets easy, stay hydrated best with room temperature water, etc. All I can do and have done is give him direction and the tools to get through this. Will he?

This morning, I send a gif of a chest X-ray to remind him to go, trying to make a point but perhaps a smile of him thinking, ‘Oh mom!’ Please Go! Will he? Again, I can only do so much. While thinking and praying for him, which is good, it is my constant worry that I need to do more, be there, I need to help him, mom can make it better. No, I need to continuously pray but not worry and stay in peace. I need the Lord to touch my son and help and heal him. My son needs to call on the Lord himself. I have done and given without trying to be overbearing mom, I hope. He has to choose, he knows I want him to go get checked out to prevent pneumonia. Will he?

In life, besides this fever, he knows right from wrong. He is independent and a smart kid, but he is also very hardheaded. I will say stubborn also. Sometimes he pushes my buttons and causes me more gray hair. It is at these times, I sometimes think or say jokingly (not in a bad way as we both have good and bad qualities), ‘You are just like…. your father.’ I stop and realize and say more seriously, ‘You are just like…..me.’

He will and I will get through this and many other situations in life, as we have in the past. As our independent, hardheaded and stubbornness collides, I’ll still say he is like…. his father although I know the truth, he is more and just like me.

I love this child, both my children, and I pray for both, of course, but he keeps my prayer life active, as I told my sister the other night. She also has two sons and understands. The worry comes but it is when we put our trust and faith in the Lord to watch over our children, to protect them, lead and direct, where we cannot do them justice, as He can. We have to let go and let God.