For years I have had three goals, none of which have been obtained, but I guess most of the beauty of having goals is the journey to reach them. These three goals center around losing weight or getting healthy (whichever I try to convince myself of at the time), starting my business(es), and getting my home de-cluttered and organized. Every year, blah, blah, blah. As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I am working towards getting healthier because my leg won’t let me walk fast enough to lose weight at this point. I walk thirty minutes on the treadmill and my apple watch tells me I haven’t gotten any exercise. Yay. I am working on rehabbing my leg, so that I can walk fast enough to get my heart rate up and get those exercise minutes. It takes time. Some days, I feel like I’m running out of it as I head towards fifty, but since my body is also almost fifty, it has it’s own opinions of time and capability. I discuss my goals because this is Struggle for Serenity and I feel like this is where I should post about my struggles to reach my goals and my serenity.
I have read a lot of books throughout my life and one was a Dummies book or the other line of self-help books that were orange (I can’t remember the name of them at the moment…it’ll come to me later I’m sure) that talked about goal setting. It had seven categories that we should hold our goals: 1) health, 2) career, 3) social, 4) family, 5) mental, 6) spirituality, and 7) financial. These are in no particular order just how I was remembering them (I haven’t read this book in ages). I think this is all well and good, it has home listed under family, but I firmly believe it should have it’s own category. I have been focusing on categories 1 and 2, and home but it isn’t listed, as I mentioned. That leaves five other categories of my life without focus. I try, but I’m a list maker and when I begin with small goals they grow into very large unachievable, overwhelming lists to work towards all of my goals. I made the decision to only focus on these categories, but I think it has been to my overall detriment.
Okay…this post does not seem to have much of anything to do with the title. Like my father, I’m taking my time getting to the point. (I hope he doesn’t ever read that…hahaha)
This morning I got a message from my dearest friend, Missy. We have been friends since I was fourteen. She taught me how to smoke, how to find trouble, but most importantly, how to have fun in life. Our lives have oddly intertwined over the years. We were super tight in high school, especially our senior year. Then we both moved to the same college, but had different roommates. I’m actually not sure why we never thought about being dorm mates…that just came to mind. We grew apart for awhile. I flunked out of the first semester because that was my life then. I came back home for the spring, started dating a guy I knew from high school that absolutely took all of my time and like any good 80s girl, I shut out my friends to him exclusively. Maybe that’s not an 80s thing, but that’s how I ran with my boyfriends since I started having them. Complete and utter devotion to said boyfriend. Not at all how I have raised my daughters.
Back then I was working at Golden Corral, not what GC is today. We wore stupid uniforms with thick nurse shoes because we were long on our feet, took no orders, but delivered food. Our tables were all over the restaurant. I started working there at 16 and on every Sunday afternoon I could get so I wouldn’t have to go to church anymore. I guess I quit my job at Golden Corral when I left for college. (That makes sense, I was trying to remember why…) When spring semester came around and I wasn’t in school or working, I needed to have money. I worked a lot of temp jobs for a while, but that summer I got a job at Cracker Barrel. Guess who started working there about the same time…Missy! Man it was so good to see her again and, of course, we reconnected right away! We worked with some guys that were from the northern part of the state that went to school in the town where we were working. One became my first child’s father and another Missy’s brother-in-law. That fall, Missy and I went back to school together and eventually moved in together with a couple of our co-workers. It wasn’t long after that I got pregnant, quit my job, and moved back home after a sexual betrayal between one of my other roommates and the baby daddy. I worked temp jobs again. Missy then got pregnant with her first child and our kids’ birthdays were just over a year apart. We remained tight for the next couple of years. Then I met Thomas through her, no less. She insisted I get out of the house. We went to a bar/club to meet a guy she had met there. Thomas was Mark’s roommate. I could spend pages writing about my husband, but I won’t do that here. We were engaged within a month. Moved in together a month after that. We got married seven months later. When Jolie, my first kid, was in kindergarten, Thomas graduated from college with his PhD and we moved to Connecticut for his first job. Missy and I were pregnant again and she got married to her baby daddy. Because I was almost to term with Luke, I couldn’t make their wedding. I still regret that to this day. I hope she forgave me.
I had Luke. She had Mary Grace. We visited when I was able to come back home after some time. We were in Connecticut for two years and then we moved to the home I live in now. Missy and I would talk occasionally over the years. She and her husband brought her two kids up for Luke’s seventh birthday. It went like that off and on for a decade plus. When Mary Grace was fourteen, Missy decided that Jolie would make a good friend and role model for Mary Grace. There are six years between them. It was magic! Mary Grace graduated high school, started college and when personal issues got tough, she and Jolie moved in together. Due to financial considerations, they had to move when their lease was up and Mary Grace lived with us for about five months. We adopted one of Missy’s puppies. We named him Rigby. Now Jolie and Mary Grace are living together again. They’ll be splitting up again come June. MG is moving in with some friends and Jolie is moving closer to her husband’s job, but still pretty close to us.
When Jolie got married, Missy took a lot of the reins that day. It was a mess. Cold, kinda wet, our photographer didn’t have it together (we still don’t have the photos…don’t bother discussing it…photographer was my SIL). Missy was a life saver. She rolled in, helped feed cold spaghetti to people, helped us clean up, and move everything home. I can’t even begin to tell you how stressful that day was. Then after Jake died, she was here. Watched us go through some of our deepest grief and was back for his memorial two weeks later. She has been a rock for me when I needed one the most, not including my immediate family, of course. I love her and I really hope she knows it. I tell her every time we talk and see each other, but sometimes, it doesn’t feel like I’m expressing my love for her enough. I don’t have a sister, only a brother, but she is my sister.
I finally got to talk to her for the first time in a few weeks and I am reminded how important it is to have connections outside of the home. I still have utter devotion for my husband. We’ll have known each other for 25 years in October. I have a very strong relationship with all of my kids. I had one with Jake, too, but I think he felt he would disappoint me somehow with all the sadness and darkness that plagued his mind. I know that he did talk to other people. His death will always confound me, but that’s another story…
I am now adding another goal…cultivating my friendships. People have been so kind to me since Jake passed. They have offered to just sit with me, just walk with me, to listen, provide a shoulder, and hope. People I don’t even know or who I haven’t spoken to in a decade have come to my aid. I have yet to take advantage of any of those extensions of friendship. I do have to say that it is still a pandemic and the darkest of my winters, so I haven’t been ready to expose myself emotionally or physically to anyone. It’s finally warming up to be able to spend time outside with neighbors and old acquaintances that could turn into deep and lasting friendships. I have so few of those. Even a handful would be amazing. Someone I can call in the middle of the night to help me stop freaking out or that I can just shoot the breeze with about nothing. People that we can eventually gather with again once the vaccinations and herd immunity prove to be the answer to the freedom we desire from our homes. I want to be that kind of friend back, but I have been too absorbed with my family. My youngest is eight, my oldest almost twenty-eight. I have been mommy for a long time. It’s time to spread my wings and give back what people have been offering me. Friendship.