Great Expectations: A Giant Strand of Lustrous Creamy Perfect Pearls

There are people in this world who think that it is their job to irritate you. In fact, they believe it so deeply, it inhibits their ability to do their real jobs with compassion, conviction and commitment.

These are usually the people who demand your respect, but have done nothing to earn it.

They are enthusiastically apathetic, passively aggressive, dynamically lazy, and arrogantly proud. In a nutshell, they believe their own press and seek approval for their oxy-moronic behavior.

There are big people with little minds who will bash your ideas and demoralize your idealism.

There are little people with big mouths who will push you to your limits – and anything else within reach.

You will fight for your right to an opinion; others will fight as if it is their right.

I have great expectations that people are supposed to be kind, empathetic, caring, and thoughtful. I had no idea how great those ideals would be to me, and how insignificant they would be to some others, met along the way.

I have tried to build so many bridges that I ought to be able to walk to China.

My efforts to be considerate of others’ tentative behaviors have been met with more fear, and distrust, than I realized they had. They were begrudging and resentful. Or bottomless…

If G-d intended me to be surrounded by so many major irritants, then it is my great expectation that I should have received a giant strand of lustrous, creamy, and perfect pearls by now!!!

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Smile Because You Deserve To ~ Laugh Because You Can

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So many hours until the light

Watching another set of elderly parents change, consider, reconsider, and wait to be told the “right” answer is so painful.  It brings up fear and and anxiety for those who cannot recall the numerous complicated steps to the the waltz of Life. It shows a glimpse of those things that will have to be attended to, coordinated and arranged for the unwilling participants. 

For me, as I try to be strong and dependable in the light of another crisis of time, faith and family,   there are moments of tears and flooding memories.  It feels like a post traumatic stress response to the the sounds of decay, despair and discordant notes in the trailing notes of the last song.

It has to be OK because there is no other way out.  But the path is no longer clear to walk.  It is always in shadow, with dried twigs and brambles to step around cautiously.  There is movement in darkened corners and fear from not having been on this route before.  There will be many adjustments and accommodations to make the necessary baggage lighter and lighter, until only the soul lifts off to the light, leaving the body with the empty husks and teetering emptiness of acorn shells on the abandoned pathway.

I did not intend to write a sad story with a moral, but it is 100% true

Most people have a body part that they don’t like, some more than others. We each see our own flaws magnified, and think everyone else is looking at us too, gawking and clucking at our misfortune.

I found myself in a shoe department looking at silver shoes and sandals too pretty to be on my feet. Others had such beautiful legs and delicately trim ankles. They were able to turn pirouettes in their high heeled cage shoes with spindly heels and fashionable cut outs.

Meanwhile, I had three pairs of flats in my hands. Such is life; I have crossed the barrier where I am capable of walking in such confections of leather and lack of support.

While admiring the other shoppers, I noted three people shopping with their mothers. Another woman had just taken off her beautiful nude colored heels and reached for a pair of Keds slip on sneakers. I smiled at her and told her how impressed I was with her choice of shoes and the need for comfort. She told me that her high heels were extremely comfortable but she was picking up the sneakers for her mother who would love them.

Creeping up on the anniversary of my mother’s passing, I began to feel the loneliness and sadness that I have no right to feel. Other people have lost their mothers much earlier in life, or never known them, so I had no right to these feelings. Also, my mother suffered and died from ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or Lou Gehrig’s disease). In the last six months of her life, she lost the use of her limbs and her freedom. Rationally, I did not want her to continue living suffering but miss having the love of my mother.

I chatted with another woman who was trying on beautiful glittery sparkling shoes for a wedding. They looked lovely on her and I complimented her on her beautiful legs and how pretty they the shoes looked on her feet. Next, in my own insecurity, I explained that I had horrible legs which was why I hid them under maxi skirts.

In the end, I left the store without a purchase. I walked back to my car and turned on the blissful air conditioning. Then, in the quiet of a moment’s pause, I realized that I had to have gratitude for the gifts which I do have.

My legs are not horrible — because they work. I know my mother would have been proud that I understood and learned the moral of the story.

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