Thanks Krista!

I don't really know Krista that well. She and her brothers are friends with my husband. We are friends on Facebook, and we go to the same hairdresser. So a couple of days ago, Krista posted something to my Facebook wall, saying how she had been to the hairdresser and the two of them had discussed my very short haircut, and how much they liked it. 

Now this is all well and good, but uninteresting on its own. But that's really the END of the story, not the beginning. The beginning had occurred two days before that when I got out of my car at my dad's house. I said hello to him and his first words were "When did you get your hair cut?"  I told him I'd gotten it cut a couple days before, and asked if he was just noticing it. He said "No, I noticed it. I just didn't say anything about it". It hurt my feelings terribly, and as often happens when I feel my dad disapproves of something I've done, I suddenly felt 6 years old. I questioned myself. I questioned the haircut. I questioned my weight, my age, my beauty, and pretty much my entire life's accomplishments...and failures. 

But the universe has a way of fixing things, doesn't it?  A girl I hardly know made it all right again with one random Facebook post. She probably barely remembers saying it...but I remember. 

People always say you should speak kind words to others. You don't know what cross they are bearing that particular day. That particular moment. Your kind word, no matter how insignificant it may seem, could lift them up. It could change their thinking. It could make their day. 

That's Me!

"And I Had That House Of Your Father's Bulldozed To The Ground"

There's a scene in one of my favorite movies, "Forrest Gump", where Forrest and Jenny are adults, and they are going for a walk. They walk by Jenny's childhood home. A place where she was abused by her alcoholic father. When Jenny sees the house she becomes very emotional. Very angry. She picks up a rock and throws it at the house and then she picks up more rocks and throws them, and at some point, ends up  throwing her shoes too. Then she collapses onto the ground, crying. In typical Forrest Gump style the narration tells us,  "Sometimes I guess there just aren't enough rocks". 

That's how I have felt lately. Like there just aren't enough rocks. 

Lots of emotion inside me. Like the feelings in there want to scream their way out. I believe this will pass soon. But for now, I'm still eating and drinking too much, and I still want to punch something.

I Just Felt Like Punching

I remember one time I had this overwhelming urge to run. I wrote about it in this blog. I felt like Forest Gump. I just wanted to run. 

Tonight, I want to punch something. I have this insatiable, uncontrollable urge to punch something! Not a person, and not with my bare hand, really. I think I want to put on some boxing gloves and just start punching the shit out of something. 

My Mom

An interesting thing happened the other day. A friend of mine had written a post on Facebook, giving an update about her mother, who was in the hospital. My friend had stayed with her as long as she could, but after a couple of days, she needed to go home for a night, and rest. 

When my friend went back the next day, she asked her mom how she had managed the night on her own. The mother said she hadn't been alone. She has been visiting with the girl's father. 

Tina's father died at least 10 years ago. 

I decided to write a note back to my friend. I was telling her that my father had told me sometimes when he drifts off for a nap, he wakes up talking to my mom. He's actually talking out loud, only to realize after he is coherent, that no one is there. It makes him feel silly. 

I've told my father before, I believe mom is there. Just as I believe my friend's father was there, keeping her mother company. But that's not the odd part of the story. 

When I was typing my response to my friend, I was using my phone. When I got to the part of my response where I said my dad felt silly, AutoCorrect kicked in. It changed the word "silly" to my mothers first name. So what I actually typed out was "it makes him feel Dolly". 

 

 It was strange, and a bit overwhelming to see my mom's name pop up in that sentence. Obviously the letters are very close on the keyboard, and I can see how it happened. But it made me stop and stare at the word for a moment. Who knows? Maybe mom was with me that day too.

Grand Plan

God has a plan for me. I have to trust that. And it's better than any plan I could devise on my own. 

I have to be patient. I have to trust. 

Thought For The Day