Thoughts about Marjorie Bridge Doty

It's getting close to Mother's Day - the one immortalized in the photo on the right was 1964 - I was nine, my mom was 45.

As I think this year about Mother's Day - looking back, the hard stuff about being Marge's daughter passes and even more of the things that made my mom a good mom come to mind.

She was an amazing woman - so full of talent. This note has just a bit more memories to honor her. The other article was written on the three year anniversary of her passing.

1. All my dresses and clothes were made by mom until I was in high school. When I was little, my dolls got new clothes when I did - they were very well dressed dolls :-)
2. As I indicated below, she gave me her love of reading, but even more, her love of words. She had an amazing vocabulary, and USED it. When I would ask her "what does that mean?" Her response? "Look it up!"
3. Mom had beautiful eyes (mine are like hers except green) I loved when she was pretending to be mad at us for something - that her right eyebrow would quiver up and down - letting us know that she really wasn't that mad - but felt that she needed to be.
4. Mom was a great cook - she read cookbooks like they were novels. We had a great variety and learned to enjoy all types of food (might be the start of MY food issues, but that is a whole different post)
5. She gave me a real tea party when I was a little girl - used the GOOD china, hot chocolate and special sandwiches - cucumber/cream cheese with no crusts. Just me, mom and Susie (my doll). I still remember how special that was - I was probably 4 or 5 years old is all.
6. Mom and Dad raised their children to be productive members of society. They taught us to keep our word, work hard and none of us have been arrested or in jail. Not bad.

January 21, 2010

I recently read an article in Oprah and the “take away” lesson for me was: Remind me of what I love. What could be a more splendid prayer of reflection than that?

It has been three years since my mom died. There are days that I don’t think about her at all. There are days that I think of her when I’m putting on her ring or necklace, if I’m wearing red (which was a color that she loved), see the “mini-me” on the cupboard, or something just might pop into my head.
For the past several days not only have I been thinking about mom a lot, but I’ve been dreaming about her and that is causing me to reflect a lot. But the lesson from above “Remind me of what I love” really speaks to me today – especially on this anniversary of her passing. There are so many things that I loved about my mom – here are just a few:

1. She loved my dad, my brothers and me. She showed it in many ways but didn’t necessarily say it out loud.
2. When I was little, I loved when dad was out of town on business. We sometimes had breakfast for dinner, and mom would let me snuggle on dad’s side of the bed. Two comforting things – the warmth of my mom, and the “smell” of my dad that lingered on his pillow.
3. I loved that as I grew older, that sometimes mom would include me in the ritual that mom and dad shared of Constant Comment tea and a Pearson’s thin mint in the evening. She would walk into the TV room with the teacup in her hand and a smile on her face.
4. I loved that mom had a wonderful sense of color and style. Even though she was a larger woman, she always dressed with style and grace.
5. I loved the smell of her lipstick – weird, I know. When mom passed, I found her tube of red lipstick in her purse. I took it home with me. It is sitting on the dresser. Sometimes I open it and just smell it – and get transported back to my childhood
6. To this day, when someone is wearing the perfume my mom wore, it will stop me dead in my tracks.
7. I loved that she ground coffee in the old-fashioned coffee grinder when company was coming. Mom and dad drank instant, but she would do the “real” stuff for progressive dinners and holidays.
8. I love that she gave me her joy of reading – and love of words. I will NEVER be able to thank her for that gift.
9. I loved that she always identified herself on the phone – as if I wouldn’t recognize her voice. How I long to hear the “Hi Mouse” again.

I loved my mom, and I miss her.

Truth AND Consequence - no, it's NOT a fun, new game.

I’m in love with words – I love their definitions and the subtle (sometimes NOT so subtle nuances) that the definitions have. The following are two words that I have been pondering for several weeks…

Truth (trooth)

1. Something factual – the thing that corresponds to fact or reality
2. True statement – a statement that corresponds to fact or reality
3. Obvious fact – something that is clearly true that it hardly needs to be stated

Consequence (con·se·quence)

1. the effect, result, or outcome of something occurring earlier: This is a direct consequence of your negligence.
2. an act or instance of following something as an effect, result, or outcome.
3. the conclusion reached by a line of reasoning; inference.
4. importance or significance: a matter of no consequence.
   

Every decision that you make, every action that you take, every time you DON’T take action or make a decision there are consequences to be had.

I’m trying not to be critical of myself – use shaming words – or speak unkindly, because that is not helpful. I am telling myself the truth – and facing the consequences.

At the ripe old age of 55, the truth is that I am facing my third (yes, you read that correctly) knee replacement surgery in October of this year. There are many truths associated with this:

• I have SFK (Shit for Knees)
• Genetics – my family is riddled with arthritis
• I am more than 150 pounds over what an “ideal” weight should be
• I have continued to live a life that is killing me - literally and figuratively.
• I KNOW what I have needed to do to lose weight and keep it off, I have not DONE the work.

The consequence(s) are:

• major surgery and the risks involved with that
• the work involved with re-hab - (it's HARD)
• Pain - re-hab HURTS
• two really gross scars on one leg - and a brand new on on the other
• Financial issues that will result from having surgery; physical therapy; co-pays, etc.
• being gone from my job for up to 6 weeks
• NO vacation this year - will need to have the time for surgery recovery
• Even though my boss swears this isn't- nor will be an issue - the possibility of job loss.

It gets back to the letter from my dad... wishes won't win, working will! I just wish it was done and over.

Love Letter #1

I have received a total of two love letters in my life - and neither of them have been "romantic".

The first was from my dad - almost 35 years ago. The time was awful... I was in nursing school (a dream for all my life) getting an A in nursing and failing a 5-credit anatomy and 5-credit chemistry. I had called home, making all sorts of excuses for what was going on. A few days later, I received this very short, and to the point letter from my dad:

Dear Mouse,
Wishes
Won't
Win,
Working
Will!
Keep at it!
Love, Dad

I would love to say, that I did "keep at it" but I didn't. I failed miserably and quit school. It ended up IN THE LONG RUN the best for me, but at the time, and for years after, I felt like such a failure.

But, the point of this, is that this was the first love letter I ever received. My dad, a man of many words but at that time of our lives not much for words of love and affirmation, took the time to get out his stationery, write this letter and send it to me.

I have kept it all these years - and pull it out at different times when I need encouragement. I'm going through one of those times in my life right now and the words still ring true...

Wishes won't Win - working Will!

what do I think?

As he thinketh in his heart, so is (s)he.
- Proverbs 23.7a

Ok, this is taken a bit out of context of the FULL bible verse, but apropos to the message below – which is from a book by Earnie Larsen called "Believing in Myself"

…the message is as clear and direct as it appears to be: Our thoughts define not only ourselves, but all expectations of what will become of our efforts and dreams.

Positive self-esteem is largely a matter of being grounded in positive thought. Many of us are only dimly aware of the constant dialogue going on in our heads…our thoughts dictate the quality of our lives.

How does MY self-talk affect the way that I succeed in all aspects of my life? So many times I catch myself using words that are hurting, harmful and shaming towards me. I would NEVER speak to someone else the way I have caught myself lately talking about me or parts of me.

Loser
Fat
GD Knee

Ugly
Stupid
Un-disciplined
Lazy
________fill in the blank.

I am working daily – sometimes minute by minute – to remember to be kind and loving in my self-talk.

• I have a strong and healthy body
• I have great hair (really, I do!)
• I am NOT ugly
• I’m very disciplined
• I’m extremely talented in my profession and respected for my knowledge by my peers
• I'm a good employee
• I am a kind and loving daughter
• I'm a wonderful aunt to 3 biological nieces/nephews and countless "heart" ones
• I am a loyal and faithful friend
• I am a beloved child of God

As Tyler Perry said to Maya Angelou - "I am worthy, because I exist. Because I exist, I am worthy" I need to remember this and embrace the truth.

Dottie Doty - pretty kitty

I have never had a pet before. I adopted (or she adopted me, depending on how you look at it) my first four-footed child at the ripe old age of 51.  She had spent more than a year in a no-kill shelter and no one had adopted her. I had spent almost 6 months searching Pet-Finder.com for the "perfect" cat.

When I saw her, and noticed what her name was, I thought, this is meant to be. I have spent my whole life telling people that my name is Doty (sounds like dough-tea) NOT Doty (sounds like dottie). Guess what the cat's name was, you guessed it - DOTTIE! I did not name her that, she came with the name. She has a dot on the end of her nose, on her paws and a couple on her stomach - hence the name.

I have some mobility issues (sometimes need to walk with a cane) so I brought the cane with me to the shelter - all the cats EXCEPT for Dottie hid from it. She came up, sniffed it, rubbed against it and that was that. I think that we were meant for each other.

Dottie does NOT like to be held or brushed for that matter, however, she is definitely a lap cat. When I sit down, within 5 minutes, she's on my lap. It makes it difficult to read at times, but I have learned to adjust.

She greets me at the door when I come home at night - meowing like the world was ending. I was initially REALLY worried about her crying all day long. I talked with the next door neighbor about it. Teri eased my mind immediately telling me that she starts the minute she hears me coming up the stairs. How funny is that - guilt trip from a cat!
 
I have so many funny stories about her and the things that she does - I used to save them and send them off to my mom with pictures of her - she was always entertained by her "grand-cat". The day after Mom died, we had finished off all the funeral arrangements and were sitting at Dad's just trying to re-group. I had been up for almost 40 hours at that point and sat down in mom's chair to take a nap. In my mind, all I wanted was to be able to sleep and to have my cat in my lap. I leaned back in mom's chair and happened to look off to the side. There - hidden where no one could see it - was a picture of Dottie. I really think it was a little gift from Mom. It also made me happy to think that Dottie had given my mom pleasure and that she had saved that picture of her. 
 
What joy and happiness she has provided me in the time that I have had her. I finally GET how people can be so nuts about their animals. I LOVE HER so much. I'm hoping that I don't become a "crazy cat lady". I know that I am crazy about her.

A Toast to Failure

The thoughts below are not mine - I wish they were. BUT, they are what started me on the weight loss journey I started in January of 2009. They have served me well in the past 15 months, and will continue to serve me well.

Through the lens of failure I can more clearly focus on my successes.When, as human beings, we are attempting to achieve something new, failure is the greatest teacher. You rip out rows knitting, cut bad boards woodworking, develop undrinkable pints brewing, strike half your sentences writing. Our collective process is to try and fall, and get back on our knees, then our feet, and fall again. Continue cycle.

Through looking at my failures -- not dwelling on them, but acknowledging and learning -- I see the muscles I need to flex more, where to polish, and where to practice. I see, of course, humiliation and embarrassment, but like F. Scott Fitzgerald who filled his walls with rejection slips for The Great Gatsby, I keep working at it. Fueled by my desire to succeed, directed by my desire to do better than I've done before.

At heart, this is what failure brings. Assurance that when you achieved your goals, you do so with a clear head that understands the achievement. And that makes the sweater, or the sideboard, or the beer, or the writing all the sweeter, and all the more accomplished.


So, a toast to our failures, our successes, and most of all our attempts to strive for greatness in whatever domain we choose. As Beckett said, "No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better." Without you, simple word, there would be no successes at all.

You are loved

Of all the people,
in all the world,
not a single one them
is more precious, loved and deserving,
than you.

Transformation - and shedding of the old

I'm reading a book that JS gave me for my birthday - "Healing and Transformation through Self-Guided Imagery" by Leslie Davenport. I have just started, but this image really spoke to me about MY situation.

"...Crossing over a threshold where things can no longer be the same calls forth the soul's invitation to cast off old patterns that no longer serve. Like a snake that literally outgrows its own skin, the call to shed old strategies and limiting viewpoints lets us expand into a new mode of being. We discover ways to stand in our life that bring even greater integrity to what we truly value. We can embrace the opportunity to come home to ourselves." Bold is MY emphasis

I have never really liked snakes, so my initial response was "oh, yuck!" However, once I started thinking about the image of shedding the old - like a cocoon does to become a butterfly - the image of the snake no longer "icked" me out. I really like the idea that I'm shedding all the crap that has "weighed" me down for the past 40+ years and as a result, I'll be lighter in frame, thought and emotion. And, the one thing that snakes have over the cocoons - they keep on shedding their skins their whole life. So, I can really embrace that image now.

Anyway, end of my lunchtime ponderings.

The difference between want and will...

They are both four letter words
They both start with W
They both can be a form of action

The definitions are:

Want:

• Desire something
• Wish something done
• To have a need for something
• To long for

Will:

• Part of the mind that makes decisions
• Power to decide
• Choice or Determination
• Motivation
• Resolve
• Self-control
• Persistence
  

I have been saying the following:

• I want to be healthy
• I want to be strong
• I want to make better food choices
• I don’t want to lust after food
• I want to see food as nourishment
• I want to be able to deal with my emotions as an adult
• I want to be more spiritually in-tune
• I want to work on my photography
• I want… blah, blah, blah _______fill in the blank

However, I’m not really DOING what needs to be done… I don’t know exactly why but one thing I do know is I think that I … WAIT… change that to I need to change how I state things:

• I will be healthy
• I will be strong
• I will be an emotional adult
• I will create a healthy relationship with food – using it as fuel – NOT as a substitute for love, a cure for sadness, anger or any other emotional need.
• I will make time for spiritual growth in my life
• I will make the time to make these things the priority that I say they have in my life.

I want to – really I do! Now the question is – WILL I?