Life lesson

I believe people come into our lives for a reason. Either to show us something we need to know, or for us to teach them something they need to know, or sometimes both. Once we complete that mission, we drift away from that person and prepare for the next lesson.

Sometimes these lessons take longer than others, maybe a few weeks, maybe a few years, maybe a matter of seconds in a grocery line.

We question why something happens the way it does, but often we never find out, or it may take years for us to realize that was why so and so was in my life. That does not mean our feelings do not get hurt when someone drifts out of our lives.

We react like humans because we were made this way. Love and hurt are part of the same family. We would not know one without the other.

While we wonder or hurt when someone drifts away, we should realize we did not formulate the grand scheme of things and should try to look forward with anticipation instead of back with anger and hurt.

Tears

When I was a teen, I cried when my first and second boy friends broke my heart by breaking up with me.

 By the time I reached college I learned to hide my feelings and control the tears. During this time, both sets of grandparents died. I did not shed a tear.

A few years later, my daddy had a heart attack and died. I did not cry that night at the Canyon hospital, nor on the couch at Mom and Dad's house where I stayed with my Mom that night. I did not shed a tear when the relatives gathered at our house. I did not cry when we buried my Daddy in the Canyon cemetery among the rocks and dried grass.

I shed my first tears for my Daddy sitting alone in Connie's living room after the service. Justin, who must have been around 6, came running through on his way to somewhere important. He turned around, came to where I sat and told me he was sorry. Then he rushed off as only a youngster can do.

The next few years I remember no tears. I know I lost a few pets.

The next major waterworks came when I decided to join a religious cult and move to Florida. I tried to give my two cats away, but no one wanted them. I cried hard as I left the animal shelter knowing they would be euthanized but before that they would be scared and wondering why I abandoned them. The guilt was tremendous.

Through the years, my heart hardened. No more tears. The guilt hung around and I learned to castigate myself for all my shortcomings and sins.

After I lost my job through layoff, I met a person who became a caring friend online. We spent hours talking. Because of him, the thoughts of being worthless and used up were negligible. After several months, I knew his death was imminent. One of his friends confirmed his death for me after I insisted he check on my friend. I cried many tears for the loss. Then I got out the cement and built another wall of protection around my heart. No more, I said.

This year, I lost Connie, my friend of 53 years. I sat in the hospital room with her whole immediate family when the doctor said her organs were failing. The tears refused to breach the wall and release the pain in my heart. She always told me I was stronger than I knew. Was I strong or had my heart frozen over?

The wall finally crumbled for the most unlikely reason. A couple of my friends went on vacation. While they were in paradise one of their beloved pets died. At first the tears made tiny cracks in my hardened heart, but finally they washed away all the cement and all the pain that was hidden in my heart. I cried for Koda, I cried for Connie, I cried for Paul and Daddy.

I cried for me and all the guilt I have felt over the years. I cried for the what ifs. The pain remains, but I vow not to build another wall around my heart. Life is too short to skip even the pain.

The modern world

If you want to talk to a human at any big business, for instance AT&T, prepare yourself to search and search for a telephone number. Once you find a number, get ready to answer a bunch of questions put to you by an automated voice. Saying agent or representative does not help, the automaton just gets confused. Once the electronic voice realizes you are not going to go to at&t.com, it tells you the wait time compares to the Ice Age, hoping you will give up. If you continue to wait, eventually it connects you to someone in India, who knows English but sounds like Punjabi. Then the real test comes. The representative wonders what you mean when you say you got an email to sign up for auto pay and you say you already auto pay. You try to explain the cost of doing business with the company has caused you to drop the telephone of your bundle. You want to know if dropping part of a bundle means I need to re-sign  up for auto pay. After explaining myself twice, and failing to give him a secret phrase I established in 1986 when I signed up for service, he said he would have to call me back. After he called back, he gave me an answer -- no I do not have to re-sign up. Then I asked since I had dropped their phone service in the middle of the billing cycle, would I get credit for time I did not use, but automatically paid  out of my account this past bill. He tells me I need to call back when the next bill comes out and the company would credit my account. So it falls on my shoulders to make sure they do their job.

Then comes the matter of a gift card I ordered through Amazon for a nationwide business. I understand this time of year the burden of work for delivery companies exceeds the norm. Plus the ice storm we had also caused delays. However, the company tracker indicated the gift card would arrive by 8 p.m. Friday. It did not. Now the tracker says it should arrive today by 8 p.m. At noon today the delivery company left an Amazon purchase at the office. This purchase I made a couple of days later than the missing gift. Trying to contact the delivery company will be a repeat of the phone fiasco. The company website does not offer a phone number nor email address.

I do not have the umph to do two battles in one day, so I will wait until tomorrow. If the gift card has not arrived, I will have to play CIA agent to contact the dern company.

'Tis the season.

So there

I quit going to my counselor. After two sessions with a skipped session in between, I decided the counselor liked to talk about himself more than listen to me. I did not see any value spending an hour of my time every week listening to him talk about his childhood or his hip replacements. I'll admit I took the chicken shit way out and left a message on his voicemail that I would not be back and he could fill my time slot. Later that day, he called and asked me to call to explain. I let the phone ring, deleted the voicemail and do not plan to talk to him again.

I went to the psychiatrist yesterday. She added Wellbutrin to my other psych meds. She said it should help me with the motivation which I seemed to have lost along the way. I hope so. I am tired of sleeping all day (get it, tired, sleeping).

I finished my Christmas shopping, now the doubts creep in. Did I get enough for so and so? Do the gifts to everyone balance out? Connie used to fret over the same thing. Perhaps I have taken over for her. I do plan to deliver the gifts and stay home on Christmas Day.

I realize people get caught up in their own lives. I understand. What I do not understand are people who promise to do something and then let it slide. So, do not expect me to hold your hand when you need me. I will no longer allow my heart to be broken again. Do not ask me to do so and so for you and do not tell me you will do so and so for me. If there are no promises then there are no disappointments.