I should be sad, but that would be selfish.
Instead, I am happy. Happy that I knew Father John Thomas, and happier still that I could call him my friend. His obituary does not tell the whole story http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/12012/1202966-122.stm
But it's close.
How can you describe someone who is eternally positive? Joyful? Spirtual? To know him was a blessing and an honor. As my son just said, "He was the man."
I got a phone call late Sunday afternoon that he would not be with us much longer. I did two things: I immediately wrote a thank you letter then I drove to the hospice, and rang the doorbell. It was after 7 pm and they rang me in. I gave the letter to the nurses and trusted they would see he got it. I heard yesterday from a friend that his daughter read it to him. That simple act gave me so much joy.
Years ago, when I was struggling, something happened that seemed miraculous, almost too good to be true. My then husband had had a sudden change of heart, and felt that God was telling him to stay with his family and me. I was suspicious, disbelieving. Father John had been counseling me through the difficulty of that time, so naturally I went to see him. I told him the entire story: The sign on the side of the road, the blinding sunlight, how my husband felt dizzy and came to the new conclusion that our family belonged together. I looked at Father and asked him point blank, "Is it possible?" Father John never hesitated in his answer, "Why isn't it possible?" And then he did what he did best, he took my hand and we prayed.
I saw Father John on a cold morning in December. He knew of my recent breakup and how it was impacting my life. We sat in his office and talked. I told him that when the bottom fell out of my life in November and I got my bearings, it was my faith in God that made (and still makes) me believe everything will be okay. It will work out. I will be okay. I said that in spite of all that had happened, miracles in the form of blessings were happening almost every day. He smiled, took my hand, and we prayed.
After all, why isn't it possible?
It's something I ask myself all the time now... as long as you have God, why isn't it possible?
That's what Father John would have asked. And I like knowing that.
"Did you just say that?!" How often has that thought crossed your mind? For me, I think it may be daily. I keep a document on my desk top where I have noted these amazing statements. It's time to share.
Me: Hello, Comcast? It's 5 pm and you haven't arrived to fix our internet connection, and my 30+ co-workers are beginning to complain.
Comcast: Oh, we were there but we left because we couldn't find a place to park.
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Co-worker, looking at my ID badge: Susan is that you?
Me: Yes.
Co-worker: When was that picture taken?
Me: Last year.
Co-worker: I would not have recognized you - you have gained so much weight.
(Note: 4 pounds is NOT that much!)
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Date: I don't think I can go out with you again.
Me: Oh?
Date: With that gray hair, you look too much like my great Aunt Sarah.
(Note: I have since begun to die my hair... but not because of this ... um... date.)
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Help desk person: Are you satisfied with the outcome of this call?
Me: No.
Help desk person: What? Why not?
Me: You didn't solve my problem.
Help desk person: So are you satisfied with the outcome of this call?
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A few years back I worked retail for a Christmas season at Williams-Sonoma:
Me: May I help you find a gift?
Customer: Yea, what do you have for my aunt?
Me: And may I ask what she likes or what is your price range?
Customer: Nothing - I hate her and don't want to spend a dime.
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At a gas station one Friday morning before work:
Me: Hey, I think you're gonna hit my car.
HEY! You hit my car!
Girl: I don't know how that happened.
Me: Really? You drove too close, that's how that happened.
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In an email to request office supplies, I asked for Lysol wipes.
Me: Please send us 6 canisters of Lysol wipes.
Co-worker: I can't order those unless I have a picture to click on.
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In a different email to request office supplies, I needed writing pads. I ordered 3 dozen each of 8x11, 5x8 and steno pads. I received 3 DOZEN of DOZEN PACKS! For a whopping total of 432 EACH!
Co-worker: Well, you know, us older folks aren't good with higher math.
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After another email for supplies, I noticed our order was incomplete.
Me: I wanted to let you know we still haven't received our full order.
Co-worker: You can't expect me to keep track of that.
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My son is sitting in a History class when during a lecture about the French revolution, a classmate says to him:
Girl: Wait! Is he talking about Bonaparte or Dynamite?
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I think it's the little things like this that make life funny. Because if you can't laugh....
http://youtu.be/RP4abiHdQpc?t=13s
A
s I have done for many years, I went to the movies today with my friends, N&A. Formerly a family event, this year, it was just three of us as our collective six children and two children in laws are scattered - either working, living far from Pittsburgh, or with family and friends. This year's choice was "The Descendants", and I loved it.
In this film, George Clooney is a tour de force as a man who struggles with his life and his emotions. It occurred to me as I watched a particularly moving scene and reflected on my own life, just how much can the heart hold?
How much sadness? Happiness? Hatred?
Just how big is the human heart?
Physically, the answer is easy to find; just Google it!
Did you know that very day, your heart beats about 100,000 times, sending 2,000 gallons of blood surging through your body? Although it’s no bigger than your fist (about 11 ounces on average), your heart has the mighty job of keeping blood flowing through the 60,000 miles of blood vessels every day. It creates enough energy to drive a truck 20 miles. In a lifetime, that is equivalent to driving to the moon and back. The volume of blood pumped by the heart can vary over a ride range from five to 30 litres per minute. A kitchen faucet would need to be turned on all the way for at least 45 years to equal the amount of blood pumped by the heart in a lifetime. Small but mighty, indeed.
Highlights from http://facts.randomhistory.com/human-heart-facts.html
The other answer is a little trickier to find. How much can a heart hold? I can answer "how much hatred" easily because my own heart doesn't really hold any. That may not be the case for.... say... a terrorist.
Sadness? I would say that changes daily, weekly, monthly. When my father died in 1995, my heart held a lot of sadness. It would seep out at the most improbable times, to remind me that I missed him. That sadness cannot compare to the sadness of a marriage ending - not better or worse; not less or more; just not comparable. I can tell you, the heart can hold a lot of sadness. Probably enough to drive a truck 120 miles!
And what about happiness? Eleven ounces of muscle and tissue can hold a damn lot of happiness! How do I know that? I've felt it - many times over. When I was a 24 year old newlywed, I can remember being so happy that my heart hurt from all that joy. When I held each of my new babies, that happiness feeling multiplied many, many times over.
I have had a heart full of happiness many times in my life, and I know I'm not alone. The happiness from simple things like chocolate ice cream or a sparkling, blue sky on a spring day is uplifting. The happiness from watching your children on Christmas morning is a wondrous thing. Who hasn't been or felt happy at the news of an engagement, a wedding, a graduation, a great report card, a new baby? A newly painted room can inspire happiness! A job well done and praise for that job bring happiness too.
Did you ever see the movie "Love Actually"? In the beginning, we hear Hugh Grant say that if you look around you will see that love actually is all around.
And, so, on this New Year's Eve, I would say.... Look around. You will see that happiness is all around.
Wishing you all... a Happy New Year!
You can fall off a chair. You can fall down the stairs. You can fall in love. And I did. Twice, actually, in the last few years.
The first time, it was fun. He was older, gregarious, loved to do things, go places, and had lots of friends. I liked all of it, and fell in love with him. However, one-sided love is not the ideal. Slowly, I realized that one-sided love is a lot like PBJ without the J - dry, sticky, and not so good. It's never good when your boyfriend behaves badly hoping you'll break up with him because he's too cowardly to do it himself. So, on a rain-soaked September night, I ended the relationship. It took a while to get over him/it, but I did and I moved on.
The second time, it was overwhelming. It began innocently enough with a friend request on facebook. We exchanged wall posts, then emails. First, every few days, and then every day. We talked on the phone for hours. Finally, two months later, we met or should I say met again.
You see, we dated in high school. We broke up. We got back together after high school, and got engaged. But we didn't marry and I hadn't heard from him in over 30 years.
The June day we spent together was magical and for weeks after I was on that "new love high". I sang songs, and I don't sing. I walked into a glass wall and got a concussion I was so starry eyed. I dressed for work one day and later that morning realized I forgot to put on a bra! I was so darn happy; it was rather nauseating. He was thoughtful, emotive, loving, gave compliments freely and appreciated everything. He understood my concerns for my children and embraced getting to know them. It seemed idyllic.
Within weeks, he moved to Pittsburgh, and within a few months we were engaged, then married.
Over the last 19 months, it changed from that new love high, to the lowest place you can imagine. He is none of the things I believed he was. This particular ending is, frankly, awful. It's like falling.... with no bottom in sight.
The thing about falling is that sooner or later you hit the bottom.
The other thing about falling is that eventually you get up. You stand tall, take a deep breath, and you go forward.
And if you are very lucky - like I am - you do it with the help of people who love you.
