Wednesday, December 7, 2011

A Taste of my Book

Many of you have been after me to get working on this thing.  And, thanks to my friend Cyndi, I went to a writer's workshop.  I met an editor and had her read the first couple of chapters.  She was very enthusiastic about me finishing the project so I got working.  Maybe not as hard as I should have but I am on a roll now.
So, here is Chapter One of my original novel Glass House.  Please feel free to comment both positives and negative would be appreciated.



Chapter 1
     Jessica eased her seat back shortly after the plane had taken off.  The turbulence upon take off had not even affected her children.  Each had the peaceful look of blissful sleep upon their face.  Was she doing the right thing taking off like this and starting over?  Moving and starting over was one thing, but, in a different country?  There would be new schools, new friends, and new customs.  Was she asking too much of them?  After the death of her husband, she had applied for a government teaching job.  The pay was certainly better than her previous salary.  And, in addition, it offered a chance to start fresh leaving the sad memories behind.  It still felt like a dream to her.  When she had decided to apply for the job, it was on a whim.  Never believing she would actually, get the job she had had not considered the possibility of relocation.  Even as she interviewed with the school officials in their Virgina office, the thought never crossed her mind.  Yet, here she was on a plane heading for Europe.  First stop, London, then onto Greece where a teaching assignment waited for her beginning in September.
     Her love for literature gave her a driving desire to visit England, the home of so many great literary figures.  “It is so rich in history. And, there is so much I want to show the kids.  We will have to push to get it done in the time we have,” she thought.  Destiny will absolutely love England.  As she gazed at her daughter she realized the last few years had aged her well beyond her 19 years.  Yet, there was still a childlike innocence which surrounded her angelic face.  Each day she looked more and more like her father.  Jessica drew in a deep breath as she studied Destiny’s features.  She was the one to worry about.  Destiny had voiced concern when she had told them about the new job.  Yet, when push came to shove Destiny had informed Jessica that she would just have to continue her studies abroad.  But, was this asking too much of her daughter? 
     Then, there was Ian.  He too had been aged over the last three years.  But he was still a twelve year old at heart.  His only thought about the move was, “Well, maybe I’ll be on a winning baseball team there.” Days before the anticipated move, Ian had spent countless hours practicing his fast ball. Surely they would need a great pitcher at the school in Greece and he wasn’t about to let his arm get out of shape.  His excitement and zest for the new in a way made the move much easier for Jessica.  Through him she saw that all though change was scary and uncertain, it was that uncertainty which gave hope and excitement to the situation.
     Jessica looked out the window admiring the blue Atlantic.  In twelve hours they would be beginning a vacation which was at the doorway of a new life.  How she and Colin had dreamed of traveling to Europe when they retired and the children were in college.  Ever the practical one, Colin had always assured her that there would be time for travel and a new life.  His present day concerns had been getting ahead in his job.  Jessica never questioned the time he had spent on the job.  Often he would go for week working 10-14 hour days without taking time off.  Then, one evening he never came home.  Jessica paced nervously around their home and finally gave in and called his office.  No answer……She tried his cell. After several ring a weak voice answered the phone.  Jessica could tell it was Colin but couldn’t understand what he was saying. Something was wrong.  Thinking quickly, she picked up her cell phone and called the police.  Using the GPS in Colin’s phone, they located his car in a ditch.  The darkness of the eving had kept what few passing motorists there were from seeing his car.  Colin was alive but barely. 
     Jessica and the children rushed to All Saint’s Hospital where Colin had been taken.  There a very quiet nun had explained that Colin had suffered a severe stroke in addition to the injuries sustained in the crash. The Sister speculated that the stroke was probably what caused Colin to veer off the road.  But, he was alive and had a long and tedious recovery process in front of him.  Sparing no expenxe, Jessica employed the best specialist in the area.  When he was strong enough to leave thehospital, she enrolled him in a program designated specifically for stroke recovery. 
     Even with all the help money could buy, Colin was never the husband and father the family remembered.  For much of the last three years, he would sit catatonic.  Jessica and the children would try to engage him in the family life, but he simply had given up. Try as she might, Jessica tried to continue to care for Colin and maintain the status quo of the family.  But eventually, a nurse was hired to take care of him. 
     Realizing that Colin’s care would eventually depleted their financial assets, Jessica returned to work.  Teaching would not make them rich, but it would cover the cost of some of Colin’s ever srising medical expenses.  At the rate they were going, it would not take too long to eat the family nest egg. 
     As Daddy’s little girl, Destiny was devastated by Colin’s illness.  His unwillingness to try to get better frustrated the situation even more.  She would spend hours reading and talking to the man who once would tease her unmercifully, only to have him stare into space.  Ian, unsure how to handle the situation, kept telling his daddy he needed someone to help him with his pitching.  On afternoon Jessica returned from work to find that Ian had rolled his father’s wheelchair into the yard.  He was gently throwing the baseball into the lap of an unresponsive body.  When he say hes mother, he wiped the tears which were streaming down his face.  Then in a very grown-up manner, Ian collected his ball.  Walking past his mother he stated, “Dad is too tired to play right now.  I think I will go practice with Tim and his dad for a while.”  It was then Jessica realized, things were never going to improve.  Over the span of the next two years, Destiny worked to the brink of exhaustion on the job and at home.  Before she left for work, she made the kids lunches, washed clothes, fixed breakfast and did the dished.  Destiny’s job was to make sure that both she and Ian got to school on time.  When the nurse arrived, Jessica would leave for work returning home as quickly as possible.  The less time the nurse was there the less Jessica had to pay her.  After tending to Colin’s needs, the household chores, and paying bills, Jessica would return to her own work.  Often it was twelve or one before her head hit the pillow.  As she lay there alone, she would cry herself to sleep.  Then at 4:30 the next morning, the routine would start again.  Each day Colin seemed to drift further and further into a world of his own.  Gradually his once strong frame began to deteriorate into skin and bones.  He would sleep 18 to 20 hours a day.  As he shut himself off, his physical condition began to worsen.  Soon, doctors were prescribing more and more medication in an attempt to bring Colin out of his state.  Finally, grasping at straws Jessica took him to a psychiatrist who prescribed yet even more drugs. 
     Many of her friends told her to simply put Colin and a home and get on with her life.  Even several of Colin’s friends tried to convince her to do the same thing.  Colin’s best friend and business partner pleaded with her stating that if the situation was reversed Colin, wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing.  But, Jessica adored Colin and was determined to bring him back to his former state.  She never lost faith in the fact that this would happen one day.  Garrett’s remark had always struck Jessica as funny.  Garrett and Emily had been married much longer than she and Colin.  Although both marriages were picture perfect, Garrett and Emily was special.  Even when Emily was ill, Garrett would take off and help care for the house and children.  So, when Garrett suggested putting Colin in a home, Jessica was absolutely puzzled.  In fact, he had been at her side from the time Colin was brought into the ER at All Saint’s until he was released.  The remark haunted her until Colin’s funeral. 
     During the last year of his life, Colin simply gave up wanting to live.  He slipped into a vegetative state.  Therapists were hired to help move his muscles, but to no avail.  One morning, when Destiny went to tell her father goodbye, she found that he wasn’t breathing.  After calling for the nurse and 911, she called her mother at school.  But the time the paramedics reached him, it was too late.  Colin had finally slipped into his own private world-death.   
     Jessica and the children were devastated.  They had been through so much.  She became very angry but did not allow herself to cry.  During the funeral she remembered all their plans.  How could he just stop trying?  Weren’t we important to him?  How could he have done this to his children- to her.  He had cheated them out of three years of their life.  How could he be so selfish?  He didn’t even try to get better.  Why had he not tried?  The son-of-a-bitch.  Hadn’t he alwys said to give everything 150% of your effort.  Where was his 150%, for that matter even 60%?  As the anger built inside, she began to look around at those in attendance.  Several rows behind her was a beautiful young woman accompanied by a small boy.  The young woman seemed particularly upset.  Who was she?  Destiny had never seen her before.  Yet, the boy looked strangely familiar.  There was something about him that seemed to permeate the inner sanctum of her soul. 
     At the end of the funeral, the priest allowed Jessica and the children to see Colin for one last time.  She watched as Ian took a catchers mitt out of the sack he had been carrying all day into the casket.  Then, Destiny put a poem whe had written for him one Father’s Day when she was very little.  He had loved that poem and even had a copy framed and mounted in his office.  But, the original which he had kept in his jewelry box was now placed in the casket.  Through all of this Jessica did not cry.  When she placed the single red rose in the casket, she studied his features for the last time.  Lingering longer than she should, she looked at his peaceful expressing, the slightly almond shape of his once teasing blue eyes, strong cheek bones, and the gentle curve of his mouth.  Then, it hit her with all the power it had.  The woman, The boy….He looked like Ina when he was 3.  Oh God.  He was Colin’s son.  The bastard.  With this realization, Destiny turned slowly and took a long look at the boy.  Yes, that was it.  He hadn’t been working all those days and nights.  Garrett’s remark now became crystal clear.  He had known.  He had always known.  Yet, he let her continue to care for Colin as she did.  How many of these other people knew?  Oh God, the children can never know.  I have to protect them.  Jessica began to feel sick.  She had to escape.  Quickly she began to walk out to the waiting family car.
     At the gravesite, Jessica could hear the young woman telling the boy about Colin as she sobbed softly.  What a good man he was…how kind.  This only fueled her anger more.  How could this woman even consider coming here?  “Where was this woman when I was working 20 hours a day to keep my family alive?  Where?  How dare she even think about coming here with Colin’s bastard son?  Did he even know?  Or was that what drove him over the edge?
     As the mourners walked away after the graveside service, they filed past Jessica and the children giving their final respects.  The woman had the gall to look deep into her eyes as if she were searching for a connection or an answer.  As the boy smiled at Ian, Jessica made a vow.  They were going forward.  Colin had stolen three years from their lives.  They were going to live.  And the children would never know of Colin’s indiscretion-never.  Garrett was the last of the mourners to file past Jessica and the children.  He hugged both Ian and Destiny, assuring them that Uncle Garrett and Aunt Emily would always be there for them.  As he hugged her, she leaned into his ear and whispered, “Who is she Garrett?  What’s the boy’s name?”
     “Jess, not here,” he replied softly.  His eyes looked relieved and Jessica knew she had been right.  Her life passed in front of her quickly. What a fool she had been.  Gracefully, she took Ian’s hand and wrapped her arm around Destiny.  Together they made their way to the limousine.  In a few short hours this nightmare would all be over.  She did not cry.
     Now as the plane gently drifted across the clouds.  Jessica looked out the window and wept softly.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The Girl Within

Each day I learn a little bit more about myself.  Freedom is just that- freeing.  And, self discovery, to be honest, is way under rated.  It is amazing.  Through my journey, although often difficult, I have found inner strength and, yes, even peace.  This maybe one of the reasons I have been able to pick up the pieces of my life.  In doing so, I have compiled Tanyia's Top 5 Things She Never Knew about Herself.


Number 5:  I like Sushi.  For my daughter's birthday she wanted to take a group of her friends out to eat.  No problem, I can do that.  Then she told me we were going to have Sushi.  My brain screamed, "Gross.  Abort Mission Operation Happy Birthday."  Ah, let's see if she will compromise. " Ashley, what if I paid for dinner and took everyone to Pappas?"  Nope she wasn't having any of that.  So, I sucked it up and went to the restaurant with the girls.  Okay, I had the cooked stuff.  Remember, I am from Texas and the raw stuff we use as bait down here.  However, my precious little cousin Sara had bait.  But, if she likes it who am I to say anything.  But, I found that Sushi was actually good.  And, I have been back to the restaurant twice since Ashley's birthday.  Yet, [eating sushi] seems to be a girlie thing.  I can't get my son or general manager to agree to go there with me for lunch.

Number 4:  I am not a bad housekeeper.  For most of my marriage I spent begging for help keeping the house.  It was a tireless and never ending task.  I could work from morning to night and it was never clean.  I can remember the first time I went out of town for work.  I came back and the house was a disaster.  My husband and children claimed they were all simply too busy to do anything.  In retrospect, I remember thinking I should have done a better job preparing for the trip.  I should have left the house spotless.  Well, in actuality, I had left the house in good condition.  Asking the family to fold the clothes that were on the couch was not more than they could reasonably do.  Fold the clothes that was all.  And, that was the way things went even after the kids moved out.  I could never keep up.  Finally, after many years, I was allowed help one day a week.  Every week before the help came I would feverishly clean the house.  I was exhausted.  Yet, since I have been alone, I have moved the cleaning to once every 2 weeks.  The main thing I need help with is mopping the floors.  I hate to mop.  Plus, every few days, I can sweep up enough dog hair to build another dog.  But, for the most part, I am now having to find things for my housekeeper to do.

Number 3:  I have the power to change my life.  For most of my life, I was told what I needed and didn't need by my parent, my in-laws, and Patrick.  So, having the freedom to choose did make me a little crazy.  Having the ability to make a choice is so taken for granted.  Having been a part of a team for 30 years, I had kinda adapted.  It was easier to go along with the flow and not rock the boat than to put up a fuss to get my way.  Patrick always told people we discussed things.  Oh, yes there was discussion......then we did things his way.  It was just easier to go along to get along.  So, after his death I kinda went off the deep end doing things that I wanted to do just because I couldn't do it before.  I Finished all the renovations I wanted to do to the house.  Put in a pool.  On his death bed, believe it or not he told me I could have a pool in my next house.  When I asked why not this house, I was told I didn't need it.  At first, I thought, I was told not to do this, but then, I realized it was my decision.  I love to swim and always wanted a pool.  So I went for it.  Before the weather changed, I swam every day.  And, I don't mean just floated around.  I swam for a good hour each day. Those days, I would think to myself, I love this pool.  The pool was my first step to making my house my home.  Yes, there is a difference.  It had been my home with Patrick for 16 years.  I had to make it mine.  It needed to reflect me.  And, I had to not only realize I had the ability to do this, I had to embrace it as well.  I had the power.  However, that power had been with me all along.  I just didn't access it.  Because, if I had saved for a pool myself, I could have put it in long ago.  Over the years, I had taken the easy path.  The path of least resistant.  And, to make a long story short, I had become a doormat.  Yet, inside me was the ability to change.  All I had to do was reach for it.

Number 2:  I like living healthy.  My friends know that I have been on a health kick since shortly after Patrick died.  His death at 53 was a wake-up call for me.  No, I never smoked nor did I drink in excess, but I still did not have the best habits known to man.  I ate the wrong foods.  Like most Texans Chicken Fried and bacon wrapped were staples of our diet.  Patrick hated anything with feathers so to say our house was a meat and potatoes house would be no exaggeration.  The only green vegetables he would eat were green beans and English peas.  Salads were eaten rarely.  And, when they were, they were covered with cheese and dressing.  Granted, the food was wonderful, it simply wasn't good for me.  Since I have been alone, it is amazing how easy it has been to follow the diet set out by Weight Watchers.  The frozen meals aren't too bad and there is very little clean up which I think is AWESOME!!!  And, I find it easy to follow when I go out to eat.  Actually, I like grilled chicken, fish, fresh vegetables and fruit.  Heck, I have even found an ice cream that is healthy.  Second, out habits of rest were not the best either.  I would venture to say that I got between 5-6 hours of sleep a night and then would crater on the weekends.  Now, in the beginning, I went to bed early because of lack of things to do.  But, I soon realized that 8 hours of sleep was what I needed to be alert and function.  Now, after I finish my nightly chores, it is not uncommon to find me laying in bed watching TV and then lights out at 10.  Not only have my eating and sleeping habits changed, my lifestyle has changed.  Each day I walk and twice a week I go to a personal trainer.  Yes, in the beginning it was hard to get into the routine.  But, now that I am, it seems unnatural not to put activity in my life.  And, I can't wait for April when the weather warms up enough for me to swim again.

And, the Number 1 thing I learned about myself is. ........In the words of Stuart Smally, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and dog gone it I'm worth it."  Even though my ego was bruised and bashed by some of my husbands actions, I have had to take a long look at myself.  For a 53 year old, I don't look too bad.  Yes, I have flaws.  But, I am working on my weight.  If you don't understand how someone can feel so bad that they turn to food for comfort, I do.  I have developed good, healthy habits not because someone told me to, but because I wanted to do it.  Tonight, I was given one of the bestest compliments I have had in years.  And, I use bestest because it was better than best.  A friend asked me what I was doing because my butt was looking good.  Wow, I could have kissed her.  It is the part of my body that I hate and to have someone tell me it was looking good.  Well, you can't image how good that made me feel. I have great skin thanks to the humid Gulf Coast weather.   I have beautiful blue eyes that sparkle when I laugh.  And, I love to laugh.  My friends say that I am funny and a blast to be around.  So, I am likable.  But, most important, I have a heart of gold with the ability to give chance after chance after chance.  I believe that good is within everyone and strive to find it.  I love deeply and passionately.  So, I am worth every happiness this world has to offer.  I am going to take my time to find it.  Yes, you got me right ladies and gentlemen, I would love to find someone special to spend the rest of my life with.  But, the reality is even if I don't I already have that special person.....me.  And, the first step to truly loving someone is is to love yourself first.  And, to be honest, I have found that I have great qualities and am now comfortable in my skin.  And, that folks is priceless.


Monday, November 28, 2011

Holidays....So What's the Deal?



I just had my first holiday as a "single" woman. And, I am here to tell you it ain't as bad as people want you to believe. On Friday before Thanksgiving, one of my staff came into my office and said, "I know that next week will be had for you." It didn't hit me that she was talking about Thanksgiving. I actually thought she was talking about the first time Patrick died. Yep, November 19th was the first anniversary of the night he died and was saved through some very heroic actions of doctors and nurses at St. Luke's Hospital. 

I replied, "Yeah, the 19th will probably be hard," and, went on my way. But, the seed had been planted. Should I be feeling upset? Am I supposed to be miserable for the holidays. Maybe it is in the Widow Rule Book somewhere? Oh, wait, that book doesn't exist. There are no rules. Then the old Grief Master slowly crept into my mind. And, it wasn't too long before everything I did reminded me of holidays past. It was like the first act from A Christmas Carol, Ground Hog Day style. And, I was sucked into an abyss of self pity. 

Don't know if you have ever fallen down that hole, but it is a dark and dank place. It is here you question God's wisdom. Many of you know that my husband was not the ideal husband and shortly before he got sick I was ready to call it quits. But, through counseling and prayer we were putting our lives back together. Now, mind you there are some things I will never forget, but I did forgive him. That being said, one of my questions for God was why was I the one left to deal with all the mess. I had been the "good" one. Always done what was expected of me. Took care of my family, worked like a Trojan, took care of both sets of parents and several of my husbands aunts. It seemed like I had gone out of my way to be the perfect wife. Now, here I am dealing with a company I am not real sure what to do with, taxes (I officially hate the IRS), home repairs, bills, banks, and the list goes on and on. These are things I never had to deal with before. Yeah, some of the things on the list didn't happen in a timely fashion. Uncle Sam, I am sorry that during Tax season my husband was dying and well filing an extension just seemed reasonable. So, why can't you be understanding. But, I know late is still late. And, that maybe my problem, I want things done on time. See how easy it is to get sucked down the rabbit hole.

When I was having my pity party, Ashley came in and I voiced my thoughts about getting the "bad" end of the deal. She looked me in the eye and said, "You know Mom, did you ever think that Dad had to go through all of that so he could be saved? You have always believed that God was your savior. But, it wasn't until the end that I really feel that Dad understood the world the way you do. God still has plans for you. There is someone out there for you. Remember you once told me to guard my heart. You need to remember that." Then, she simply turned and walked out of the room.

Bam. Right in the face. There it was. She was right. God has plans for me and I just need to be patient. Stop trying to help him. Let him drive. I began to crawl out of the hole. It was then that I came to some conclusions. First, I have a great family who make me feel special and loved each and every day. This is not just my children and immediate family of cousins. But, it extends to my church family Trish, Troy, Kathy, Russ, Renee, Paul, Mary and the list goes on. When I think back to Patrick's funeral I realize that the Church was packed. Many were friends and business associates of Patrick's but a lot of those in attendance didn't know my husband at all. They were there for me. Since his death, I have opened myself up to these people and I can't imagine my life without anyone of them. Next, a holiday is simply that. According to the Wikipedia is a day designated as having special significance for which individuals, a government, or a religious group have deemed that observance is warranted. No where in the definition does it say we have to be sad because someone is no longer there to celebrate. And, to be frank, in the past holidays were really just a whole lot of work for me. I was in the kitchen, I played hostess, I did the dishes, I cleaned the house. And, when everyone left, I rarely got so much as a thank you. So, much for the happy family holiday where hearth and home was held high. It was just a lot of work. So, really it is no different than any other day. Third, each day life changes. The seasons change, leaves turn, life goes on. People all around you die every day. Life is about change. Without change we stagnate and in return do not grow. Growth makes us who we are....It is the decorations on our tree. Furthermore, everyday is a cause for thanks. When I pull the top back on my convertible I feel the warmth of the sunshine, the wind in my face, the roar of the wind. I feel alive. I am thankful for the small things in life on a daily basis. Thanksgiving is a commercial time to remind people to give thanks. Well, everyday I thank God that he has given me these things. But, most of all I thank him for loving me in spite of my screw ups. He loves me how I am and where I am. No matter what I have done or not done. He loves me and forgives me. Man what a great feeling that is. And, finally, those people who try to tell me that the holidays will be hard are my version of the Grinch. Like the Grinch who stole all the Christmas Cheer in Whoville thinking he would silence their merry making, these people, even though they are well-meaning, are clueless to the fact that they steal holiday joy and the hope of future memories. And, Ashley, well she was my Cindyloo Who, reminding me that holidays were not about the past they are about the future. So, together our family, Ashley, Johnnie, J.R., Marie and I made new memories in a new house in a new town. It wasn't bad at all. 

If you are thinking, how can she be so callous? How can her husband not even enter her mind? Well, he did and he does. And, probably will for the rest of my life. But, I choose to remember the good and not the bad. No, like I said before I can't forget the bad. But, I choose to focus on the good. He is no longer with me, so I have no choice other than move forward with what is left of my life. Make new memories and new tradition. It's really not bad to do this. Yes, I am a hopeless romantic. I believe that true love exists and that there is someone out there who will accept me where I am with all my flaws and quirkiness. There are many things I still want to do with my life and many places I want to go. This is my time and I plan to make the rest of my life full of adventure and leave my family with the knowledge that I lived life to its fullest looking forward not backward and leaving a legacy of love and knowledge of God.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

A New Day Dawns

I know it has been a while since I have written anything. And, it's not that I haven't had anything to write, life had just gotten in the way.  One of my favorite responses to people when they ask me, "How are you doing?" is "Probably better than I should".  You see I have made happiness a choice.  Each day I wake up and know that I have one chance to make it a good day.  No, as I have often said, this is not the way I figured my life.  This just was not in the Tanyia Conner master plan.  But, I am a firm believer that God only gives us what we can handle so I guess you can say, He has the confidence in me to handle each task that is ahead of me.  So, I face each day with confidence.

One thing I have discovered is that everyone has an opinion of how I should feel.  It is too soon for this, or poor thing she is just so beside herself with grief that is why she stays so busy.  To those people I say simply pshaw.  I stay busy because it is what I love to do.  I am doing the things that I truly love to do.  For the first time in my life, I have the ability to just let go and listen to my heart.  I am picking and choosing what I want to do.  I have a passion for my faith.  I am by no means hiding behind God to mask my sadness.  But, my church is where I not only feel the most peaceful, it is where I am accepted where I am.  Yes, they ask how I am doing, but not in the same way others do.  They know I am trying to move on with my life.  It is where I here things like, "I am so proud of you" and "You are such a positive person."  Yep, by staying positive I am able to face each hurdle as it comes.  One by one, I am overcoming each obstacle and adjusting to my new life.

Recently I h,ad the opportunity to go Cursillo at Camp Allen.  For those who are not Episcopalian, it's kind of like a retreat.  We were on God's time.  All watches and clocks were removed for me that was not hard.  The silent retreat which lasted about 12 hours was brutal.  Those of you who know me personally, know being quiet is not one of my strong suits.  I am for lack of better words a blabbermouth.  But, it gave me time to think.  And, to listen.  Sometimes we are so busy thinking that we don't listen to the voice inside which is guiding us toward something.  I had asked for a private room because on occasion I had been crying myself to sleep.  That first night was the last night I cried myself to sleep.  I had jokingly told my sponsor that I did not sleep well with strangers.  In fact, I told her, "What if I fart in my sleep?"  Being the true Angel she is, Susan managed to get me a private room.  These night alone gave me an opportunity to reflect and plan what I want to do with the rest of my life.  And, you know what, I came to a couple of conclusions.

First, I don't know when and I don't know how, but I am not giving up my dream of being a chaplain.  With every once of my being, I know that this is what I was made to do.  My training as a counselor and Stephen Minister have led me to this path.  When Patrick was in St. Luke's, I have the privileged of meeting Dr. Ann Brotherton.  She is one of the Episcopal Priests in the hospital.  She and I talked about it and the staff even called with training information.  But, now is not the time.  I do believe it will happen, but in God's time.  So for now, to feed myself spiritually, I will become involved in other Ministries at Good Shepherd.  I am going to return to my level of involvement prior to Patrick's illness. Last Sunday, I told Father Bob I wanted to return to Children's Church.  My friend Trish has put me in charge of the silent auction at the Octoberfest.  I told her to keep me busy, well she took me at my word.  Thanks Trish for being yo

Second, I am not comfortable being alone. Yes, I have proven to myself that I can do it.  I no longer go to sleep with all the lights on.  I am now down to just the TV on low for background noise.  Okay, okay, I do have a wonderful security system which includes a video surveillance system.  But, that is besides the point.  I like company.  Remember, I talk a lot.  Yes, I have three super canine pals, but they are not the best conversationalists.  I want to giggle and laugh.  This is who I am.  I need to do these things as much as breath.  This is part of me.  It makes me who I am.  So, my friends will be seeing a lot more of me sooner than they thought.

Third,  I am a lot stronger than many give me credit for being.  I recently told someone about how stressful my week had been, but I refused to let it get the best of me.  After I give the Reader's Digest version of my drama, I was told but you are a woman.  Yep, I am, but I am a strong and independent woman.  No one has ever really "taken care of me."  Patrick with all his wonderful qualities, never "took care" of me.  I did a lot on my own.  I can plumb a toilet, fix a light, paint a room, do yard work and these were things I did before I was alone.  Since then I have negotiated with repairmen and contractors, which led to the renovation of my back yard.  I have remodeled my closet.  And, I have found that I am a pretty good housekeeper.  I just don't like to do it as I feel there are a lot better ways to spend my time.  Genieva has cleaned my house for years and even took care of Patrick which allowed me to work.  She jokes when she comes over now that she really doesn't know what to do.  "Can you make me a list of something to do?" she begs.  I don't know that I would be able to be "taken care of".  Sure there are things that it would be great to have someone do for me.  I don't like lizards or spiders or roaches or .......the list could go on and on.  But the question for me be would I ever be able to relinquish some of this independence.  That is doubtful.  During my marriage to Patrick, I walked a step behind.  I let him be the center of attention.  He could be bigger than life.  But, in the background, I was going to graduate school.  Graduating from UH with a 3.89 for my MS in Counseling and a perfect 4.0 for my MEd from Lamar University.  He always told me I was the brain in the family.  When we would talk about schooling, he often times made me feel that he envied me.

Funny, I felt lost and just wanted him to notice me.  But, all of this has formed me into the woman I am today.  Yes, I am a woman, but I am strong and independent ready to stand on my own.  When the time comes, I will need someone to walk beside me not in front or behind.  But, I have to admit, I wouldn't mind someone to take some of the pressure off of me.  I will miss Patrick everyday for the rest of my life.  But, the last thing we talked about was my future.  During our last coherent conversation, Patrick told me.  "I want you to live a life full of happiness.  Live for both of us.  I will never leave you.  You won't know I am there, but I will be.  Don't be afraid, you are strong.  You are smart, you can do anything you put your mind to.  And, most of all listen with your heart.  It has never let you down yet."  

So, as I stand on the precipice of my life, I breath in with a new vigor.  For me, in the immortal words of Celine Dion, "A New Day Dawns."

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Odd things Widows and Widowers Do that to Us are Normal

After talking to several widows, I have found some common ground.  Everyone deals with grief differently.  In a way we are so afraid we will forget our loved ones that we can sometimes go overboard.  But, as I talk to other widows, I am beginning to laugh about some of the funny things we do.  This lidt does not apply to everyone and it is by far not a complete list.  And it is not all funny, some is sad.  But, let's face it we are going through a time that is like a roller coaster ride.  We are told to remember the good times and live on our memories, but each day we wake up and are hit with the hard reality that things are never going to be the same again.  Trust me it is an adjustment.  So, here is my latest top 10.

10.  Wonder if we are ever going to be happy again.  I wonder this a lot.  It's not that I am unhappy, I just feel alone and mostly numb.  Even in a crowd, I feel I am different from everyone else.  There are times I even wonder maybe I am supposed to be numb for the rest of my life.  I see older couples and my heart actually hurts.  I know I will never have this.  Call it jealousy, envy or whatever, it is the way I feel.

9.   Bury ourselves in pictures -  I always had pictures of the kids hanging up around the house and a couple of Patrick and I but never did I have tons of pictures of him around the house.  And, I don't even think when we were dating that I had one on my nightstand.  Well, I do now.  He is the first thing I see when I wake and the last thing I see when I turn off the light.

8.  Retell stories about things you did together-  I know my kids are tired of hearing, "Your dad and I did...." or "Dad would have.....".  The truth is I can only speculate what Dad would have done.  But, this is my way of keeping his memory alive. 

7.  Indulge ourselves-  Okay, I am so guilty of this it is not funny.  Right now as I write I am sitting with my new kitten on my shoulder.  He is a cute little fellow who was all alone like me.  He is my shop cat.  As an official employee, his job description reads Vice President of Elimination.  (He is going to keep the mice out of the office.)  Patrick is probably stomping around in Heaven about now.  Thinking Really, Tanyia, another cat?  You don't need it.  And, he would be right, I did not need it I wanted it.  Just like I wanted the pool that I am having put in the backyard.  Patrick hated the idea of a built in pool.  I always had a "ghetto" pool as my kids called it.  It was my theory that Patrick would be so embarrassed by the pool that he would just give in, but he never did.  So, I had no one to tell me no and I am putting in a pool.  Believe it or not, I have spoken to several widows who have done the same thing.

6.  We keep their cell phones active-  I know its seems erey, but every now and then, it is nice to hear their voice on their answering machine.  In a way, it is our way of keeping them alive in our minds.  Some, including yours truly, have even gone to the extent of leaving them messages.  I kind of think of it as a direct line to God now. 

5.  Don't erase messages left them-  I wish I was not a Nazi when it comes to erasing messages.  Patrick left me some really sweet messages over the last couple of years.  I would give anything to hear them again.  Many of those I talk to tell me they are the most dear things they have. 

4.  Leave lights on-  One of the ladies I talked to told me "I can handle the days, but it is the nights that are hard."  I think the closeness a husband and wife share does increase especially at night.  I know for a while, I would go to sleep with every light in the house on.  First, I will confess, I am a scaredy cat.  I don't like the dark, I hear gremlins when the house creaks and the kids have convinced me over the years that there is a ghost that lives in our attic.  Our house was built on what used to be a dirt road and legend has it that during the 30's whiskey runners used it and several met their makers there.  Kinda sounds like the plot of Poltergeist but its the truth.  However, I have now gotten used to turning off the lights and going to sleep.  But, it took a while.  I think that as a society we think of death as darkness, so if we light everything up we will be safe.  I don't know it is just my theory.

3.  Do things that are out of character-  This is one that causes my kids, especially my daughter, to scratch their heads.  In the past I would not have been caught in an ice house.  Yet, I was talked into going to one with a friend of mine and conversed with some rather shady individuals.  First, although my kids say that I talk to everyone, that is not exactly true.  I talk to people I feel safe around.  For this reason, I can be viewed as snooty, abrupt, and, yes, even rude.  But, I am not.  I just have to be comfortable.  But, at the ice house, I talked to a grizzly biker and his friend.  This is not something I advise doing.  I was not "Born to Be Wild", so I am going to say I won't be doing that again anytime soon.  But, at the time I though  Uh, why not?  What can it hurt?.  Truth is I could have been hurt.  So, a word to the wise, think before you act.

2.  Be angry-  I get angry at silly things.  Right now my anger is directed at the power company.  (Yeah, I know leaving all the lights on......)  I think they are all blood suckers who take our money.  We are held captive.  Really, how did the early settlers handle this heat in Texas?  It is so hot that we have to pay "blood money" for the luxury of staying comfortable.  I don't know about you but with the thermometers reading like they are...I only get comfortable not cold.  And, each time the AC kicks on I hear them laugh. 

1.  Cry at silly things-  I think this is our excuse to cry.  I cry at movies, television shows, the news, songs, books, stories, and crap.....even commercials.  This seems to be much more socially appropriate than crying because we are just plain sad and our heart is hurting.  I don't like to cry around my son and daughter.  My daughter has always seen crying as a sign of weakness.  However, I don't think she really believes it.  On the other hand, my son goes into super over protective mode.  Yesterday would have been my 31st wedding anniversary.  I held it together until I was on my way home.  Around 7:30 my daughter called.  "Mom are you okay?  I don't know how to put this....." I knew what she was asking.  But, I did not allow myself to cry.  It was not until she called back at 9:00 that I allowed myself to bawl.  When I cry, it is not a pretty sight.  My nose gets stopped up, I can't breath, I choke on anything I put in my mouth.  So, as I am choking, coughing, blowing my nose (loudly I might add), and crying, she listened.  Never once did she tell me to stop.  That was truly one of the most loving gifts she has ever given me.....the permission to cry. 

As always, I welcome your comments.  I want this to be an open forum.  If you don't want to comment here, feel free to e-mail me at tanyiaconner@gmail.com

Da Da Da Da Da Da Monday, Monday, Can't Help that Day

[My apologies to my readers, I was unable to post this last night.  Not only was I submersed in a pity party but my IPAD was being squirrelly.]

Happy Monday readers.  We have made it through yet another weekend.  I hope this finds everyone having had the wonderful weekend where they were able to pay attention to themselves not just rest and relax. 

I know I did.  Saturday, I went to a writer's conference.  It was fabulous.  But, had it not been for a friend of mine (Thank you, Cyndi), I would have completely missed out on this experience.  For sometime I have been telling my friends about a book I have written.  The process had begun several years ago and I had put it up several time.  My friends had seen some of my poetry and many had been subjected to my humorous rantings through e-mails, but none had ever really seen my writings.  That was until I started blogging.  Over the course of the last months several people have told me how much they really enjoy my blogs.  I was beginning to feel more and more confident about my craft.  And, that is what this is a craft.  This is my art.  I am a painter of words.  Like a painter I have to pay attention to details as it is through these details that readers become involved.  It is what draws you to the work.  But, it was not until I had the push from my friend did I do anything about it.

I spent the entire day with other local writers, many of which were already published learning the tricks of the trade.  I went from thinking this is a dumb idea.  I will never be published.  To thinking....Hey this is possible.  The day opened a door into a community of very creative people who were so warm and welcoming it was amazing.  Everyone had tips and ideas on what to do.  I felt like a sponge soaking up everything I could.  At the end of the day I was saturated with not only information but hope. 

Behenna's 5th point to becoming extraordinary is attention.  Paying attention to ourselves not only helps distress from the week, it also opens doors to who we are.  What we fail to do is look past the superficial things.  Yes, it is great do get your nails and hair done.  Don't get me wrong.  I love to do these things too.  I call these days my "Princess days".   But, they don't help you grow as a person.  They have no value in that realm.  And, if we are to evolve into extraordinary people we have to on occasion exercise that part of us.  Finding something you love to do is the first hurdle.  I have friends who can sit for hours and scrapbook.  They like to go to scrapbook workshops and classes.  Some may see this as not only boring but a waste of time and money.  Yet, this is their way of finding themselves.  Think what history would have been like if Julius Cesar's mother had scrapbooked.  Imagine what we could have really known.  Scrapbooking in a way records history.  These ladies are not just recording events, they are defining their hopes, dreams, and life through pictures and words.  I also have several friends who quilt.  Quilting is amazing ask someone who does it.  Quilts often contain messages that many of us miss.  We feel they are just blankets.  Ask a quilter?  Nay, Nay these are stories and works of love.  But, the women who practice this craft are finding themselves just like I am.  It is through the focusing on the end product that the beauty and the real message emerges. However, staying focused on our goals and paying attention to our inner self helps is difficult especially for those who like me juggle many things at once. 
But it is not just paying attention to ourselves, it is paying attention to others.  Being able to listen to others. Taking constructive criticism and turning into a positive is a wonderful ability.  Having the ability to open our selves up to the world to critic our end product.  True there are going to be some people who don't like it.  My son, whom I love dearly, has never once read one of my pieces.  To him this is a waste of time.  But, to me it is who I am.  And, it's sad that he is missing that piece of me.  When I write, I write from my heart.  Everything is out on the table.  I invite comments and critiques.  Hey, and if you don't feel like commenting on the blog, send me an e-mail. 

In closing I challenge each one of you to take time this week to find something you are passionate about, stay with it (be persistent), keep a good attitude no matter what, reach out to those around you, and most of all pay attention to yourself. 

Thursday, July 28, 2011

People Who Need People Are The Luckiest People in the World

Having gone from being Daddy's little girl to being some one's wife shows that I have been leaning heavily on someone most of my life.  So, I am not really sure where this one is going but, just stay with me and we will find out.  The fourth thing needed for an Extraordinary performance is people according to Behenna.  She goes on to say that productivity can be increased by showing appreciation to others.  Networking through clubs and organizations also make these much needed "people" connections.  And, forming a peer group to brainstorm ideas is yet a third pillar of this stage.  Let me look at each of these individually to see if I can come up with a universal truth. 

Showing appreciation can increase productivity.  Yes, I agree wholeheartedly with this in a business or classroom, but how is this going to help me find who I am.  After all, Behenna's message could be easily adapted to me until this time.  Wasn't finding me supposed to involve me going out on my own and finding my wings.  How can I do this if I have to depend on people?  And, really, exactly what am I going to show appreciation about?  I have thought on this for a while and I realize that showing appreciation doesn't mean that I have to constantly be complimenting someone or brown nosing.  It means being able to say "Thank you." even for the smallest things.  But, most important you pay kindness forward.  Have you ever noticed when you are in a store, if you make eye contact and smile at the clerk they will respond to you.  "Just minute and I will be right with you"  or  "How can I help you?"  Sit there and just look around, and yes they may eventually come up to you, but it will take longer unless you have a pro of a salesperson.  Try it next time.  My children always tell me that I talk to strangers too much. "No one wants to know your life story, Mom.  Just get to the point."  But, I don't see it as telling my life story, I see it as making a connection.  Recently, I bought a pair of ear rings for my daughter to wear at her wedding.  I walked into Jared's gave my sweetest smile to a young man and asked where the pearl and diamond ear rings were.  As I told him how my son was going to walk my daughter down the aisle because her father had recently passed, he looked at me and took several pair of ear rings back.  Then he took me to show me another pair.  They were significantly less than I had planned on spending but they were perfect.  He told me that his girlfriend had been looking at these and said they were for a really special occasion.  I knew that he understood, I needed something not expensive but special.  As I completed my purchase, I stopped by and told the manager what an awesome salesman the young man was once again flashing my sweetest smile.  Now, the minute I walk the young salesman runs up to me.  First, he asks what I need specifically.  Then he shows me what he has plus something he has found that he thinks is just "special".  Now I know what you are thinking.  Tanyia, that is what salesmen are supposed to do.  True to a point, but not to the point of personally e-mailing you pictures of new items in stock. 

I was once told that I was rude and abrupt.  This devastated me and was actually the beginning of the worst year of my life which culminated in the death of my husband.  I am not rude.  I always say please and thank you.  I smile .......a lot.  And, I always hold the door for people.  Often abruptness is confused with bluntness.  They are not the same.  I am a call it like I see it girl, not a let me shield your feelings girl.  My feeling is if you didn't want an honest answer, you never should have asked me in the first place.  Since I have discovered this, I now have no problem going up to strangers and saying, "Hey, you can be perfectly honest with me.  I will never see you again.  What do you think about......   or How do I look in this?"  It is amazing how well this works.  After thinking about it, I realized that appreciation is more than please and thank you.  It is acknowledging that someone has expertise in an area.  Asking them for their honest opinion can be like giving them the power to be an expert in something.  And, I don't know about you but I love to feel like I can do something really well.

I recently told my children that I love my dogs, but they are simply not the best conversationalist.  Being alone, now means that I have to look to outside sources to exercise my people skills.  If I don't I could become the crazy dog lady you see on TV and we all know that we feel sorry for her because she is coo-coo.  I don't want pity, I want someone to discuss politics, religion and other controversial topics.  I don't want to look glassy eyed in the camera and talk like my dogs are people.  They are special wonderful creatures, but not people.  Therefore, we need people not just for companionship but to strengthen our minds.  When we stop talking our brain stops as well.  People keep us sharp.  That is why my therapist and friends pushed me to join a photography club and go to the writer's conference.  (To be honest I am a bit excited about that.)  Then it hit me, it's not depending on people to do things for you, it is having the ability to nourish companionship and allow the neurons in our brain to rapid fire as we engage in conversation.  Stepping out of our box means making new connections, meeting new people, opening up....in other words... living again.  Yes, it's hard but this can be a wonderful time.

I miss Patrick more than anyone can possibly image.  He wasn't the best husband, but he was mine.  He was my world.  Now I have a new world.  I realized that in a way as a widow I have been given a remarkable opportunity.  I get the great do-over.  I get to roll the dice again and move past go to collect my $200.00.  But, to truly find me, I will need guidance, reassurance and love from others.  Okay, maybe Streisand had something when she sang People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Bringing on Your "A" Game

Have you ever had one of those weeks when you look up at the sky and just go, "Really???"  This has been one such week.  Living alone is an adjustment.  And, I have to admit, not being on a 5:00 a.m. wake up call is an adjustment (a wonderful one, but still an adjustment).  My body is still thinking that this is my summer and we sleep until 9 or 10.  So getting up at 7 and ready for work can be difficult.  And, of course, I have the zoo to feed and let out.  And, with no help, my morning events begin to run together.  Yesterday I woke up and figured it was too early as it was dark in my room only to find that the pool guys had put plastic over my windows and were spraying gunite.  Opps, ran late that day.  And, today was the crowning blow.  Today, I had a 9 am meeting in Houston.  Now, if you live outside a big city, you know traffic can be bad and a 25 minute trip during mid-day will take an hour or more during "drive-time".  I got up, let the crew out, began doing my hair.....What my Chi won't turn on???? I fiddle with it and finally realize the plug has kicked off so I set the reset switch...Good...Catastrophe 1- averted.  Things begin to get back on schedule.  I go make coffee and get my clothes out of the dryer.  Finish getting ready.  Feed the crew and put them in their kennels.....7:29.....THIS IS FREAKING AWESOME!!!! Right on schedule.  I sling my bag over my shoulder.  Grabbing my  IPAD, phone, coffee, and Weight Watcher's Breakfast sandwich I head for the door.  It is now 7:35....Quickly, I set the alarm.....Grab the door and I am off.  It is not until I hear the door shut behind me that I realize....my keys are on the counter.  I can't go to the meeting, I can't go to work, I can't get back into the house.  So, like any reasonable woman I grab the door, violently shake the lock and curse loudly as if the magic words "You SOB" will open the door.  Oh and did I mention there was a crew working on my pool.  They are watching this in amazement I am sure.....well maybe most of them probably didn't speak much English.  Yet, there was no doubt I was not a happy camper. 

Okay T....This is not going to work.  Let's formulate plan B.  I will call JR.  For those of you who know my son, you know that on several occasions I have had a wee bit of difficulty getting him to answer the phone.  I call once.....as usual no answer.  Don't panic......I call a second time and a sleepy voice finally picks up.  I explain my situation and he says he will be right over.  Okay this day can still be salvaged.  I sit on my back deck.  Flies are on me like old garbage.  After a while of swatting them away, I spy some good old Raid Yard Guard.  I quickly spray it.....flies leave...Now, I am just left with the heat. I look at the time, it has been 20 minutes.  JR should be here soon.  Then my phone rings.  And, you guessed it it was JR, "Mom where exactly are you and what was the problem again?"   ARRRRRGGGGGGG!!  

Once again I explain my problem.  To make a long story short, I get into the house at 8:45.  No longer am I fresh.  I have sweat, my hair has frizzed (so much for getting my Chi to work), and to top it off there is no way I can make the meeting.  So, I decided to go onto work.  And, continued to have a wonderful day.  I met JR for lunch at Schlotzkey's where the lemonade machine stuck and over flowed onto the floor as I desperately tried to get it to shut off.  I return to work sticky hands and all about half an hour late.  Not bad considering all the running around I did.  And, I have to admit, as I look back the day wasn't so bad. 

Now, folks, that is the power of attitude.  I could have gone to work and just had an awful day.  But, instead, I brought my A Game.  From my luncheon the other day Teresa Behenna stated that attitude was the third key ingredient to becoming extraordinary.  And, that is what finding yourself is about.  Becoming the extraordinary person God has made, even if we don't realize it.  He has made us to do extraordinary things.  But, we have to be willing to learn new ways of working.  For me, I am going to give a neighbor a key and hide one in a remote location in the event this happens again.  Having to depend on a man even if it is my son made me feel helpless and like I took a step back.  Next, I need to build relationships with others.  I have a very hard time asking for help.  I liked to think that I am very self sufficient.  However, in reality, I pretty much let Patrick take care of me.  So, I must now sow these relationships that in the past I let lay dormant.  Back to making sure my neighbors know that although I can be a goof, I am a wonderful goof.  Finally, according to Behenna, the third key to attitude is to stay humble, likable and teachable.  It is never too late to teach an old dog new tricks and I am not too good to ask for help.  But, more than that, I have to be able to let all the garbage kind of just fall off and develop the Scarlett O'Hara philosophy that tomorrow is another day. 

So the moral of this story lies at Schlotzskys at the lemonade machine.  I just wanted a tad bit put in my ice tea to make it a bit sweeter....Instead I got lemonade.  And, that's really not so bad if you are able to flow with the tide.  So, bring it on world....I am planning on making lots of lemonade.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

The Art of Persistence

  Well, I have just returned from a wonderful weekend in Austin with my daughter.  One of the reasons I wanted to get away is that the 21st marked the third month of my husband's passing.  Funny word...passing.  We pass cars on the freeway, we pass tests, we pass up desserts, heck we even pass the bread and butter.  So, the word passing has become a kinder gentler way of saying death.  They just pass from one dimension into the next, they pass on into heaven- or so we hope.  This trip was difficult as I left my 16 year old Boston Terrier, Missy at death's door as well.  She was quite ill when I took her into the vet's office on Thursday.  In fact, Dr. Osborne did not belive that she would make it.  I cried and cried....Yes, I know it is a dog.  But, I had the dog for 16 years and Patrick was the one who picked her out.  All I could think was, "Well, he must want a dog in heaven."  I believe that dogs go to heaven even though I have been assured by my Pastor they don't.  But, as I write today, she is up and moving around.  Doing her usual thing, eating and sleeping.  Okay folks, she is 16 after all.....well over 100 in human years and old folks sleep a lot.  When I picked her up yesterday Vicki, the Vet Tech, told me Dr. Osborne had little faith Missy would pull through.  "But, Ms. Conner, I told him Missy always looks like this when she comes in so not to be to hasty."

     "Wow,"  I thought.   "Missy's persistance to keep coming back like a Timex was amazing."  Remember I told you about the luncheon I went to last week.  Well, the second point in success is persistance.  And, in finding who we are, we need to be persistant in our quest.  Begin asking yourself the had questions.  Like, "How can I develop my passion.", "What is out there for me to expand my horizons?" 

     Over the years, I have told many of my good friends that I really love to write.  Like I have previously stated, I have begun a novel, written several poems, and short stories.  But, my lone published item was a poem I wrote for my dad which was on the cover of his funeral service.  I really had no idea how to go public.  Blogging is a great medium for this.  But, when I began my blogs that was not why I did it.  I really just wanted for other spouses or significant others to know that they weren't alone and for others to realize that grieving is not a short term issue.  We have bben living in a huge glass globe and a really big giant has shaken the globe so hard one of the figures is destroyed and now we have to wait for the snow to settle.  So, I began writing.  But, I have never had anyone really look at my writings to see if they were in deed any good. 

     As many of you know, I have been in therapy for some time.  First it was marital issues, then issues relating to Patrick's illness, and now grief.  Dr. B has been after me to get involved in something (her way of saying...Find your passion).  As we spoke, I told her I had chosen three activities in which I wanted to become more involved.  First, photography, you know I have that really cool camera Patrick gave me for Christmas.  Second, Good Shepherd Episcopal Church, I was very involved and had to back off some of the activities.  Now I have the time to recommit to them.  And, third, writing.  As she listened to me and I actually listened to myself, it became apparent that my true passion is writing.  She encouarge me to find groups which foster these talents.  So, today I took the persistant approach and I have joinded not only a photography club, but am registered for a writier's workshop this weekend.  A very good friend of mine called me this morning regarding an article she had seen in the Galveston Daily News regarding a Writer's Workshop near me.  After I hung up, I found the article, did the research and am going.  I am willing to do whatever it takes to really define my passion. 

     Persistance..... For so long, I have been so involved in making others comfortable.  This includes but is not limited to my husband, my children, my employer, my colleagues and to some point me. I did not persistantly nurture who Tanyia really and truly is.   I have to make myself be a little uncomfortable to grow.  It's time for me to step out of the box.  I am still young enough to persue my dreams.  And, you never know one day you may be at the local store and see a book by me....Hey, I remember when I used to read this gal's blog......

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Developing A Passion

 
Thinking Outside of the Box

I had the priveledge of attending a luncheon today put on by the Houston Women's Business Initiative.  The speaker was the fabulous Theresa Behenna, motivational speaker, author, pianist and recording artist.  Her topic was "Extraordinary Performance:  The New Norm for Tough Times."  Yes, I know this was meant to be a discussion of business in our trying economic times, but her words of wisdom also hit home personally for me as well.  She listed 5 points to excellence.

Point 1-  Passion
Since the death of Patrick, I have been on auto pilot.  All I could think of was, "I have to get through the end of the school year.  I have to get through all of Ashley's showers.  I have to get through the Rehersal dinner.  I have to get through Ashley's wedding."  My days have been a blur.  It was today when I realized that my passion had become "Just getting through".  Not something I am particullarly proud of but that is where I am. So, now I realize that I need to find what I am passionate about.

I enjoy lots of things. Reading, but I don't see myself as part of a book club. Reading what someone tells me to read reminds me too much of school. And it took me several years before I picked up a book for pleasure after I graduated from A&M. So, I do not feel passion is there. I love my animals. A friend of mine told me that my dogs would become very important during this process. She was right. They listen without trying to give me advice. Mr. C even let's me put my head on him when I am crying. And, he has never once told me to stop. He just turns around and licks my face. There are lots of things I could do with my love for animals....volunteer at an animal shelter, work for animal rights, or foster a rescue.
This sounds great, but when would I find the time? Maybe on the weekends, but does that qualify as a passion, then? Maybe not. So after giving this a lot of thought, I have finally decided that my true passions are writing and photography.

Writing requires very little. It can be squeezed in in a few moments and then picked up later when you are free again. That is the beauty of writing. Blogging opens up a whole new world for writing. Not only can you put your feelings down for others, they can comment back to you. Wow that is powerful connecting people. Therefore, I encourage you to comment whether you know me personally or not. Help me exercise my passion.

I want to close with final thought. Do you know what your passion is? What have you done lately to discover who you are? Knowing who we are inside is like Red Bull.....it gives you wings. I don't know about you, but now is my chance. I am going to fly.

Labels: change, passion, starting over, widow
draft

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Time to Write

Some of you followed my blog about my husband's fight with cancer. I learned that writing to me was probably the most cathartic thing I could do. I could get a message across. Regretfully, I had to stop when my husband's fight began progressing so fast that the doctors and medicine could not keep up with the disease. Eventually, he lost this battle only 8 short months after it began.
To say I am angry would be an understatement. There is not a day that goes by that my heart does not hurt. I miss him so much, but I am angry. I have been angry at the doctors, at MD Anderson, at some of the nurses, at God, and, yes, I am even angry at my husband. This is a normal part of the grieving process but the knowledge of this does not make me feel any better. My universe has been completely altered. This is by no means how I pictured my retirement years. Overnight, my life changed. I had to take a early retirement from a job I loved. The upside is I am working at a job that gives me freedom to come and go as I please, pretty much. And, right now, I need some space just to think and feel. Because, to be honest, my apple basket is empty. The pay is good considering what I do. And, it gives me the financial freedom to do some exploring.
My hopes for this blog is to help me figure out just who I am. For most of my life, I have lived in someone else's shadow. I have always been someone's daughter, someone's girlfriend, someone's wife and someone's mother. Now with my husband gone and the kids out of the house, I find myself at a loss of the definition of me. Most people find me humorous in a sarcastic sort of way. I have been told I am rude and abrupt, which is probably true. Not that.......... I mean to be, I think it is just the way my shyness manifest itself.and my difficulty dealing with stupidity. And, yes I am actually shy, I don't like to let people in, it does not feel safe. And, I guess in away, I haven't even let myself in if that makes any sense. But, there is one thing I know for sure.....I love to write. And, with any luck, this will be the road map that leads me to me and allows me to live again. So, stay tuned.....it's time to write.