Thanksgiving Eve. Growing up, this was one of my favorite times of the year. Holiday music (which I LOVE) is playing everywhere you go. Christmas Break was on the horizon (and so was my birthday!), and New York City during the holidays is always beautifully magical. And it all kicked off on Thanksgiving Eve. School was always easy--the last day before a four day weekend, plus the day before Thanksgiving means everyone was in a great mood. But, the best was coming home. Walking in the door, and seeing my grandmother in the kitchen, boiling potatoes, seasoning the turkey and the ham, preparing the mac and cheese and stuffing..it was heavenly. And, not just for the obviously gluttonous reason (I WAS the official taste tester, after all), but because I felt safe at home with my family. There was this warmth I felt from the security of being home Wednesday night with my immediate family all safe around me. Then, at age 14, we lost my grandfather right before the holidays that October. Looking back on it, the women in my life were so strong. As painful as it was to go on with the season that year, they never showed it. They stayed as put together as they could be for me and my brand new 6 month old baby cousin. It may not have been the best Holiday season, but I did feel warm and safe.
18 years later, and here I am now on another Thanksgiving Eve. In the past almost two decades, things have changed tremendously. I'm no longer on Granny's couch or at her kitchen table watching her prepare meals for Thursday's feast, I am now in my own apartment. Four years ago, I spent my very first holiday season without my mom, which has been the biggest impact on me by far. Most people reading this know me and about my struggles with my grief over the loss of my mom (for the uninformed, chronicled somewhat in this blog) and how I've been able to face this next phase of my life without my original BFF. Talking to some friends recently who have experienced a similar loss of a parent, as well as other timely movies and television shows brought up a swell of feelings for me this week. And it is this time of year that brings a bittersweet feeling that hangs over me the entire season.
Being a holiday season baby, this time of year has always been exciting. The countdown to Christmas has also paralleled the countdown to my birthday, and celebrating Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's with friends, family and food! But, in 2009, this time of year became to difficult to bear. That first year, I was so numb. I remember finding recipes for new foods to cook to keep my mind occupied and not focused on the big loss that weighed heavy on my heart. On one hand, it kept me busy, and I learned how to make some delicious new meals (and kept my ex very full), but on the other hand, when I wasn't cooking, the pain of my loss was debilitating. Sure, I spent Thanksgiving with the rest of my family, but that missing void in the room was painful, and I realized then that nothing could ever take that pain away. As time has gone by, I've begun to live in this current phase as best I can: by never forgetting or moving on, but carrying the pain with me as I find someway to continue on.
So on this Thanksgiving Eve, I take in both the good and the bad of the upcoming season: missing my mother tremendously, but being grateful for the 26 years that I did have her. Singing the cheesy happy birthday song to myself every year that she sang to me. Watching all those Christmas cartoons I used to watch with her and remembering how I laughed at her while she cried at them. Remembering all the years we spent putting up the tree in the living room and listening to her favorite CD, "Soul Christmas" while she danced around to the music. And reminiscing on all the good memories that I have. But I will also endure the harder moments, too. When I feel down about missing her, I will accept that and take it in. When the Christmas music and TV shows bring me to tears, I will embrace it. It is officially now all a part of my process, and things I will carry with me for the rest of my life. Because I have to be able to accept the Bittersweet Flavor of the Holiday Season.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
The Battle Within...
I've been writing. A lot lately. In fact, in the past few months, I have drafted a few pieces, and I've been dying to publish something. This post right here was definitely one of my drafts. This is something I have been thinking about for a while, and has been speaking to me a lot, especially recently.
How do we know we are good people? What makes us "good" over other individuals that are labeled "bad"? How are the qualities that some people possess held in a higher regard than others? Can we really tell others or admit to ourselves when we are not being good people? These questions have been circling my brain for the past few months. You see, I always thought I was a good person inherently. I mean, sure, I'm a brat, I'm stubborn, I have a bit of a mean streak, and as Beyoncé once put it, "I'm a train wreck in the morning and a bitch in the afternoon", but I've never imagined myself to have malicious intent. And, aren't we all made with our own flaws and cracks anyway? That's a part of what makes us perfectly imperfect I have always believed. But, lately, I've been questioning this notion. Perhaps some of the qualities we tell ourselves are good and self-sustaining are much more selfish and hurtful than we want to admit.
I've always been a firm believer in self-care. In fact, I've written about this before: If you can't take care of yourself, you'll be no good to anyone else in your life. But, where do we draw the line between self-care and selfishness? How much taking care of ourselves is too much, and when do we learn to let others in? What does too much even look like? I feel like this is a battle I have fought for many years now. Call it the curse of the only child I suppose, but I've spent a lot of time in my life learning to be content with doing things on my own. I've always deep down felt that was the way it was supposed to be for me. At times I felt like I was winning this battle, and at other times, my loneliness informed me that I was squarely on the losing side. Now that I'm older, and my life has shifted into thinking about having children and a family, I have learned that I haven't really shifted my mindset very much. Now I'm forced to ask myself, does that make me a bad person? Will I ever be able to be a good parent and a good wife if so much of what I believe about living this life is tied into taking care of myself first? Is there something actually wrong with wanting what we want for ourselves and making sure our happiness paramount? And, if so, how do I reconcile that?
It's interesting, because being in the profession I'm in, a lot of my job is tied into focusing on the needs of others. And, I willingly have done so for the better part of 8 years. No matter how tiring it may be at times, it is still what I love to do. In fact, as I have learned about myself, it's sometimes the only glue that holds me together when other things around me and in my life are falling apart. At times it seems like my only saving grace, my one redeeming quality: I may be a mess, but I'm gonna push mine to the side, roll up my sleeves, and get down and dirty and help YOU clean up yours.
I'm not sure if I'll ever get the answers, if the questions don't have answers at all, or if I refuse to be honest enough with myself to admit that I do have the answers and I just don't want to act on it. In thinking about my own happiness, I'm not even sure I am able to come to terms with that looks like for me. We all have these grand ideas of what we would need in order for us to feel some level of content, but how sure are we truly that these things will affect our lives in anyway at all? And, to what lengths do we go to in an attempt to attain these things? Could someone on the outside looking in call our actions nefarious? Selfish or Self-centered? Or do our actions look the way we think they do: Justified.
At some point, these conflicting paths will have to cross for me, just like for everyone else. In my case however, I'm just concerned about the aftermath of the battle. Will I feel like I've conquered my worries about being a good person? Or will I step out of the rubble feeling more broken than before the fight began?
How do we know we are good people? What makes us "good" over other individuals that are labeled "bad"? How are the qualities that some people possess held in a higher regard than others? Can we really tell others or admit to ourselves when we are not being good people? These questions have been circling my brain for the past few months. You see, I always thought I was a good person inherently. I mean, sure, I'm a brat, I'm stubborn, I have a bit of a mean streak, and as Beyoncé once put it, "I'm a train wreck in the morning and a bitch in the afternoon", but I've never imagined myself to have malicious intent. And, aren't we all made with our own flaws and cracks anyway? That's a part of what makes us perfectly imperfect I have always believed. But, lately, I've been questioning this notion. Perhaps some of the qualities we tell ourselves are good and self-sustaining are much more selfish and hurtful than we want to admit.
I've always been a firm believer in self-care. In fact, I've written about this before: If you can't take care of yourself, you'll be no good to anyone else in your life. But, where do we draw the line between self-care and selfishness? How much taking care of ourselves is too much, and when do we learn to let others in? What does too much even look like? I feel like this is a battle I have fought for many years now. Call it the curse of the only child I suppose, but I've spent a lot of time in my life learning to be content with doing things on my own. I've always deep down felt that was the way it was supposed to be for me. At times I felt like I was winning this battle, and at other times, my loneliness informed me that I was squarely on the losing side. Now that I'm older, and my life has shifted into thinking about having children and a family, I have learned that I haven't really shifted my mindset very much. Now I'm forced to ask myself, does that make me a bad person? Will I ever be able to be a good parent and a good wife if so much of what I believe about living this life is tied into taking care of myself first? Is there something actually wrong with wanting what we want for ourselves and making sure our happiness paramount? And, if so, how do I reconcile that?
It's interesting, because being in the profession I'm in, a lot of my job is tied into focusing on the needs of others. And, I willingly have done so for the better part of 8 years. No matter how tiring it may be at times, it is still what I love to do. In fact, as I have learned about myself, it's sometimes the only glue that holds me together when other things around me and in my life are falling apart. At times it seems like my only saving grace, my one redeeming quality: I may be a mess, but I'm gonna push mine to the side, roll up my sleeves, and get down and dirty and help YOU clean up yours.
I'm not sure if I'll ever get the answers, if the questions don't have answers at all, or if I refuse to be honest enough with myself to admit that I do have the answers and I just don't want to act on it. In thinking about my own happiness, I'm not even sure I am able to come to terms with that looks like for me. We all have these grand ideas of what we would need in order for us to feel some level of content, but how sure are we truly that these things will affect our lives in anyway at all? And, to what lengths do we go to in an attempt to attain these things? Could someone on the outside looking in call our actions nefarious? Selfish or Self-centered? Or do our actions look the way we think they do: Justified.
At some point, these conflicting paths will have to cross for me, just like for everyone else. In my case however, I'm just concerned about the aftermath of the battle. Will I feel like I've conquered my worries about being a good person? Or will I step out of the rubble feeling more broken than before the fight began?
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