Dear Sean Dietrich

Dear Sean Dietrich, we have some things in common.

We both are survivors of suicide loss, we have a thing for old dogs, we write. Granted you are a way more prolific a writer than I am. But then writing doesn't put food on my table or feed my dogs. Writing is a way to process my thoughts and feelings. Then I figure if I'm struggling with something, maybe someone else is too so why not share my thoughts. And words, words are tricky sometimes. Sometimes I have them, sometimes I don't. Most of my life using them has been a challenge. You see growing up it wasn't safe to have an opinion, to point out a wrong, set a boundary or say what you need. Guess you could say I come from a dysfunctional home. I'm thinking more of us have than not. 

Here is what I know, life does not take us where we think it should. Being divorced, a single Mom, a survivor of suicide loss, a widow were not life goals. In fact, I wanted to own horses, lots of horses. The big guy upstairs felt dogs were more do able. So, I do dogs, and I love them, especially the gnarly old dogs. I thought marriage would be for life until my ex-husband decided otherwise. So, then I was gifted with being a single Mother. You do the best you can, and you know what? They turned out good. They grew up, I grew up. It's all good. The dog thing started when I got divorced. Getting a dog was the smartest decision I ever made. We should all keep a list entitled "Smartest Decisions I've Ever Made". Write yourself a note to start that list. We all deserve a little more credit than we give ourselves.

Your journey with suicide loss is completely different than mine. You lost a parent. I lost a spouse. I feel for you even though I can't fathom how that impacted your life. Sometimes I can't fathom how suicide has impacted my own life. Or how the pain of life impacted our people who chose to end it all. It is just impossible to wrap our heads around. 

In times like these we just keeping moving forward as best we are able. Surround ourselves with what gives us comfort and joy. We grieve and we grow. We wait for the words to come and share them when they do. We laugh at the irony, we heal from the hurts, we share our gifts, we love our dogs. So can I say thank you for your words and thank you to the big guy upstairs. I think you have a different name for the big guy, but I know you believe. I know that because how else could your path and mine have crossed like this? Rhetorical question. No need to answer. Carry on, you're doing great.

We Just Don't Know

I heard a dialog recently. The question was asked "why would they put up with that"? "Were they stupid"?  That whole thought process made me sad. We do the best we can with the information we have at the time. We do the best to honor our commitments, to trust the situation, to believe. We believe in those we love, we trust them, until reality teaches us otherwise. If a person has never had that experience, then God bless them. They have no idea how lucky they are. Others have lived with dysfunction, learning the hard way. 

The bottom line is we just don't know what another person is going through. Let me say that again. We just don't know what another person is going through.  Sometimes we are that person, holding on by a thread and trying to sort it out. Other times we look on and it's painfully obvious we can't learn life lessons for another person. It's hard all the way around. In reality most of us do attend the school of hard knocks at one time or another. When we hear those questions, comments, those judgements it may take us back to times we felt like failures. Were we failures? Nope. The writing was on the wall, but we weren't able to read it. We made choices that weren't the greatest but were what we needed to do at that particular moment. They were part of our growth and development. Therefore, they were important pieces of who we were and who we are. 

They are the very reasons to be gentle with ourselves and each other. We don't know what life is like for others. We just don't know what we don't know. And no, we're not stupid. We are humans having human moments. Growing from them in our own way according to the bigger plan.

Food For Thought

Do you ever feel like you've eaten everything a million times. Do you ever feel like there should be more food and beverage choices? Seriously, what else is there for breakfast? Lunch and dinner? Maybe it's the company I keep, but dang, it feels like deja vu. Fixed it before, packed it in my lunch before and had it for dinner before. Honestly, I love food, I love cooking, I like to eat. I'm surrounded my thousands of food options at work every day. But I'm kinda of done with it. Don't worry, I'm not about to stop eating. It is food for thought though. 

I should be as excited to eat as the dogs are, as a child with ice cream is, as someone diving into a deep-dish pizza after a famine is. There I go with "should", should gets me into trouble every time. It sets me up for disappointment when I need to extend myself grace as large as a bowl of gravy. Pass the gravy please.

I suspect, because I am smarter than your average bear, that part of it is that eating is a solitary experience. Owning it is the first step. Add in the tendency to be frugal, the waning motivation at the end of the day, or the morning rush in the beginning of the day. Somewhere along the way I lose the creativity and only lightly garnish with gratitude. Some folks may look on in envy and say you can eat whatever you want, whenever you want. There is some truth to that. Funny how that's both a blessing and a curse.

How do we face those things that challenge us? The food choices, the life choices, the faith choices? How do we shift from stuck to unstuck. How do we find our gratitude. How do we spice it up so that we are fed spiritually, emotionally and physically? Good questions, no easy answers. Except for the gratitude part. That's the icing on the cake, the gravy on the taters, the whipped cream on the pie, the chocolate on the eclair.