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.

Another Sunday

I slept literally almost 24 hours yesterday. I did not feel good emotionally. I did not like myself and felt that I needed to shut myself away from everyone. Danny came by to bring me some homemade treats and I talked with him for a bit. A new neighbor from upstairs rang my bell. She said she was my new neighborhood from above me. I told her a guy with the silver truck was above me. She told me Miss Pat was in the hospital. I had no idea who she was talking about. I told her she was above my next door neighbor and she knocked on that door then. She also asked which car was mine. Strange.

I washed the dishes, swept the kitchen, swept the bathroom, cleaned the litter box and cleaned out the refrigerator and gathered garbage. I am now watching some tv so that I will have something to record in my Nielsen diary.

I called Consumer Cellular and found out how easy changing companies will be. They do all the work. So my phone part of my phone-internet-tv will become tv-internet on Nov. 21. My phone will run $20 a month for 750 minutes. Now I need to work on internet and tv.

I am amazed about the connection of your mind and body. When I am having a hard time mentally, my body seems to fall apart, too. 

Another day in Cindyland

Well looks like I am going to fill out one of those Nielsen diaries again. The company called me about a dozen times during the month and I ignored its calls. So they sent me five crisp dollar bills (the company only sent one last time), a diary and instructions. So I guess I will add my voice to the television rats and do what they ask. I will represent the over 65 demographic although my age group does not fall into the one advertisers most want to know about. Or maybe I do since the young folks seem to watch Netflix and modes of entertainment other than television.

I am addicted to pistachios. Of all the nuts I could love, pistachios rank as one of the worst environmentally because they use so much water. And for that reason, among others, they cost more than most nuts. I can go through a bag in a couple of days, I have no restraint. Breakfast? Grab the bag of nuts. No cooking or waiting required. Feeling a little bit hungry, grab the bag. I guess healthwise they rank pretty well.

Pogo clings to me like Velcro lately. I am not sure what brought on this bout of insecurity other than his age. Maybe he knows his time on this earth nears an end. Maybe he does not feel well and hopes I can translate this neediness into comfort. His old bones must hurt because he seeks out new soft places to sleep. After a day or two he moves on to another spot. He neglects his grooming, especially on his haunches I imagine because it hurts to contort his body to reach those spots. I bought a grooming brush and after a few days of lightly going over his body with it, he looks better and has no more mats.

I tried to nap some yesterday but my vacuumer came, so an extended sleep did not happen. Perhaps today.

Death to the tweeters

Momo came in from the dark this morning with another bird in his mouth. The poor creature was dead I think. I made Momo drop it, I wrapped a towel around it and threw it out the back door. Then Momo fussed at me because I took his prize from him. I really hate that my backyard has become a killing field. Nature at its worst and I am guilty because I let Momo go outside.

I met with my new counselor yesterday. I am hoping the first session does not indicate what will follow. The counselor seemed nice and we are about the same age and have some things in common. Out of the hour I spent there, we discussed me and my problems about five minutes. The rest of the time reminded me of the many interviews I did  in my life as a reporter. My next appointment should indicate what direction these sessions will take. I will give it until after Christmas before deciding if a change should happen.

The maintenance man came again yesterday to try to determine why water keeps leaking from above my shower. Yesterday he tore the ceiling apart again. This time he thinks the upstairs overflow plate has rusted to the point it leaks instead of channeling the water into the drain. So he used Dap to fix the rusted spot. I hate to say so, but I doubt Dap will be a permanent fix. And wanna bet how long it takes him to get around to fixing the hole above my tub? These apartments show their age and lack up upkeep. The three maintenance men constantly go from one major problem to another without completing any of them. Why don't I move? Because I like to eat and my medicines keep me alive. Money only goes so far.

But I am thankful I have what I do.