Yesterday I had two of the sweetest insights, very calm and gentle, and very much appreciated in the events of late.
I remember back in 2012 when I went to Hawaii for a conference, my flip flops broke. So i bought a replacement pair at the hotel. 'They were a new brand, made with yoga mats, and were the softest most comfortable flip-flops I've ever worn!
I started out with cheap plastic ones in the sixties. And in the seventies, it was either the bamboo 'zories' with blue or red velvet to go between your toes, or the plastic kind with the rainbow sandwiched in layers between the black bottom and black top layers.
I've had Havaiina's...pretty much everything.
I loved those yoga mat ones, Sanuks, and when they were at Costco, I bought two pairs, black ones and white ones.
But the white ones fell apart when I went to the beach one hot day. I had to drive home with broken ones!
I simply started to wear the black ones. But when I was back -to-school shopping with Anthony, Ross wanted me to go looking at Nordstrom. And there, the only thing I could find, was a pair of Olu Kai flip flops. Anthony had gotten some recently, they are expensive and make the Havaiina's look cheap.
But Anthony explained it that real Hawaiians actually wear the good flip flops. You see, the Olu Kai brand have arch support. They are extremely well-made.
Now every time I wear the ones Ross bought for me, I give thanks, because I had no idea things got better than Havaiina or Sanuk...but they do, and he insisted I wear them. That I'm worth it.
I've had a very hard time with the changes in my body image. There comes a time where your body just stops making estrogen. You coast on what you had for a while. But then after a little longer, your body and your face and your hair just don't look like you. You must remember where I am from, a coastal community pretty much my whole life, and image is very, very important.
I've felt defeated and down on myself in so many ways for not looking young.
But what can you do? Not much. The 'remedies' often look worse than the problem!
Yesterday at the beach, I saw a woman who was overweight. But she looked cute! I'm not sure how the bathing suit did it, but she had confidence in her one piece, a 1940's style with a pattern on it, but it looked good on her.
I gave thanks for in this world of youth and anorexia, for another option to look good and feel good just the way you are.
This is my mom.
This is the family cat Pyrite.
The story was that my sister was going to commit suicide if she didn't get a cat. She had one when she lived with my now brother in law at his apartment with other guys, Giovanni, but that cat got hit by a car. She was moving back home, and I didn't live there any more, so...it is what it is.
My father was completely against it. Because of me. My eyes swell shut. My lungs can't breathe. If I touch a cat I get welts on my skin. I've been on allergy medicine since I was seven, and the tests for what I was allergic to was torture in and of itself!
Enter Pyrite, names after Fool's Gold, an apt name in every way. Lots of photos like this with every member of the family except Dad. And me, of course.
When my sister moved out, the cat stayed.
When mom had her kidney transplant, nobody could get the cat adopted, so dad took it to a kill shelter and told mom the cat died of a heart attack from missing her. Litter boxes can be lethal to the immunosuppressed. It's a big no-no for certain pets if you've had a transplant. Doctors' orders.
When dad died, a neighbor cat came, my mom called it Abby and said it had dad's soul in it.
Even on my last visit to mom's house, to cut her toenails, on the floor next to me while I worked, within arm's reach, was a bag of cat food.
At least Abby stayed outside of the house, and she fed her on the porch.
My self-confidence is in the toilet most of the time. It always has been, because my mom had a hair-trigger temper from her diet pills and yelled a lot. As a sensitive child, I couldn't stand the yelling. So emotionally I checked out and made plans to go to college and escape.
The nail in the coffin was when my family chose this cat over me.
Yes, I didn't live there.
But, it said loud and clear that I was no longer WELCOME to the family.
I had to eat outside during family holiday meals. If I needed the bathroom, I had to hold my breath and run to the toilet. Nobody batted an eye at my plight. Nobody said not one word to soothe or comfort me. Ever.
It was as if my needs, my feelings, my heart no longer existed to the family too. We've had many discussions about it. My raising the issue. And it was always the same. They defended their actions and were not going to get rid of the cat.
My sister shared this photo on the 'Remember Mom' group because a cousin said that mom's cat amazed her and she's been crazy about cats ever since.
It sent me into a tailspin with my mental health, because damn, that love for the cat was even stronger than I remembered. My suffering was real. There was cause. And it was right there in the picture!
My point is, that if mom and my sisters had gotten a dog, there wouldn't have been any problem. I'm much less allergic to them.
Think of it, how it is, for every friendship, every invitation, to have to ask first, 'do you have a cat?'. And if they do, you can't go?
I share this because mom always said she loved me.
Her actions were louder than her words when it came to the cat.
After her transplant, the house took a long time to get the allergen out of it, but I was okay to go in and not get sick.
She was incredibly supportive when I got pregnant with Anthony, and stayed with me after he was born, off and on for two years watching him. She didn't trust her grandson with strangers. Even when I did get sitters around age two, mom would pop in on them just to keep them on their toes and guessing.
When mom loves something, or someone, she is very firm in it--for Anthony--and I suppose for me. I'm glad she helped because it would have been horrible paying for a stranger. I did pay mom for her time. One thousand dollars a month. But she turned around and gave the money back to Anthony for his college at the end.
For those of you who have cats, don't worry, we aren't immediate family, I probably won't ever visit, so enjoy them as I know they bring you much joy.
If you don't have my problem, God loves you, way more than me, and be thankful. This cat thing is an incredible handicap, and a painful one. I hate it.
The lesson is, remember your actions, and how they speak, and when you have to make a choice, always choose the one who means the most to you. Even if it's difficult. And hopefully, it's always human and blood relative first. There are repercussions for all of your choices. It's not made in thin air.
And if you are the one who isn't chosen, well, it happens! You're in good company, and come right here and sit next to me. We can have a nice conversation for a little while.
Carla is going on assignment today, and her assignment is to have a little fun!
Work has been hard, her growth in her separation from her mother, her earth mother, the final one, has been difficult for her, and painful.
Make time for joy, even in hardship.
Even if it's only for one day.
It is important for the mental health.
clap! clap!
Aloha and Mahalos,
Namaste,
Peace,
Ross and Carla
P.S. I love Carla very much, and I would never get a cat, never, not in any incarnation, for all of my lives. Only I am fortunate enough to be the one to see her for who she is, and to know how much she means to me, and to be totally confident in it.
