Before I get to the title of the post, I thought I'd share a card.
We went to a Fourth of July party where the hostess served frozen Watermelon Margaritas. So, in keeping with that theme, I made this thank you note. While I didn't actually drink one of these, they are looking pretty good right about now!
The patterned paper is from Memory Box and is part of a holiday collection. I've had it for a while and could never incorporate it into a Christmas card, so I'm glad I finally found a use for it.
I used Copic Markers to color in the image. Little by little, I'm learning to like these markers. The image is from A Muse Arts and the sentiment is from Papertrey Ink. The top layer is popped up on dimensionals.
If you are interested in reading a bit about what's happening in my life, read on. Otherwise, stamp or sip something refreshing!
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I can't get my brain around the concept of my own life issues compared to what's happening to others. I look at the world and see incredible hardship, cruelty, beauty and good fortune. I can't figure out where I fit in. At the worst moments, I am jealous and resentful, immediately followed by a flood of guilt. Remember not wanting to eat your peas and being told that "there are starving children in China, so eat your peas?"
Well, I don't want the "peas" of my life -- those pieces that stink. But there are millions whose lives are full of true misery and sorrow. Does their tragedy mean I have to take all of my life and be grateful for the parts I hate? Does it help the truly miserable if I'm a bit unhappy?
I had to miss work today. The details don't matter, but it had to do with my Mom, and I hate when that happens. I want to go to work when I'm supposed to go. Period. No emergencies, no email explanations, just be there. But, I have a good job. So do I stress over missing a day, or rejoice in the comfort of a secure and well paying job?
I wish I could find that balance, but every day brings a new test. While I was home with my Mom today, she fell. I rushed into her room and saw that she was behind the closed bathroom door. Luckily, designed for the disabled, the door opens out into the bedroom, so I could see her. Just sitting upright on the floor next to her walker. Her legs gave out from under her. She kept telling me she was unhurt, but I convinced her to sit there and wait for the paramedics so she wouldn't injure herself trying to get up.
During the 10 minutes or so that she was on the floor, my Mom told me that she couldn't live with us anymore, it wasn't safe. So I said "Let's talk about it later, Mom," but thinking "works for me, Mom."
In fact, she wasn't hurt, and the two paramedics lifted her 110 pound body up and into bed. As the medics left, I burst into tears -- the result of the adrenaline draining away. One of them looked at me, and said "Hang in there, lady, I totally understand."
And then I thought. Wow, my Mom is leaving. Immediately, I was flooded with sadness, joy, but a real feeling of escape. We can go on vacation this summer! We can go out to dinner! We can take Andy to look at colleges -- together. The money saved! Oh, the money we can use for other things. Will I be able to visit her every day? Maybe I can adjust my work schedule to get there every afternoon. Will she be ok there? Remember the stuff that happened when she broke her hip and was in a nursing home? Hmm. My mind was racing.
After she was safely in bed, I asked her what she meant about not being able to live here. Was she ready to talk about it?
She had no memory of saying it! The look of panic that crossed her face was truly sad. It must be so scary to depend on me -- someone who is tired of being there. I don't want this. I want to be someone else -- but quick -- not the folks with really horrible problems. I don't want to be them. I want to be me -- only without the problems.
I'd don't want to eat my peas, but I don't want to be the kid starving in China either. Besides, the same number of kids will be starving whether I eat my peas or hide them under the mashed potatoes, so why can't I just have what I want? Does it help those who are really suffering if pieces of my life stink?
As I thought about this, I concluded that maybe it does, if I do something with it. My ups and downs remind me that I'm human, and that I share that humanity with them -- and, more importantly, that I have a responsibility to reach out as best I can and help a few other humans. Without a bit of sadness, suffering if you will, I'd lose my humanity.
So, yeah, I'll eat my peas, and then help someone else have something, anything, to eat.