The weekend and the post I didn’t post

First the weekend:

Wow! What a relaxing weekend. I spent time getting my house in order (literally – it had gotten a little messy for me). I use the Flylady sytem when it gets bad - clean for 15 & break for 15 until it’s done. I watched an entire dvd of “Forever Knight” episodes (5 episodes I think) 15 minutes at a time. Shopping done, house clean, cooking done, son’s curtains and tie-backs cut out. Woo hoo! And T de F watched of course.

Food and exercise were also good. Mostly healthy food, reasonable portions, plenty of exercise. Saturday I lifted weights and took a spinning class, Sunday I ran 5 miles (AM) and rode my bike (PM).

Things that make me happy:
Sugar free popsicles. At 12.5 cents each, these are a wonderful summer treat. At 15 calories each, they are a guilt free summer treat. My new “crack.”
The old guy by the door at the Y saying to me “What a wonderful smile” as I left class. He made my day.
The friendly guy in line behind me at the cafeteria Saturday night. And their yummy turnip greens.
My bicycle.
My MP3 player – because who can’t help but run faster when listening to “Fat Bottomed Girls” by Queen?

There are plenty more, but that’ll do for now.

The post I didn’t post

I had a post in my head Friday, which I didn’t post due to time limitations. Now I’m glad I didn’t. Saturday morning I went to the gym, lifted weights, and then did spinning class. As I was leaving, there was an old man sitting by the door (like my grandpa’s age). He said “Nice smile” as I walked by. I said thank you and he replied “You’ve got it all.” That hit me like a ton of bricks. My first thought was “yes”. My second thought was “No – I don’t have Jan Ullrich scrubbing my kitchen floor wearing nothing but a thong.” (Because a man that does housework is the sexiest!). Then I realized that even though there I things I might want that I don’t have, I do have everything that matters. That sureness has remained with me ever since.

My mom’s dad was raised by his grandparents. His parents divorced (in like 1917 – I’m amazed it was legal!) and his mom worked in a textile mill. She later re-married, but he always lived with his grandparents. I can’t understand what it was to grow up in those circumstances in that time. Maybe it was easier – his grandparents were good people, he had happy childhood memories, and maybe people didn’t obsess over their angst as much back then. I don’t know.

But I do know that he never allowed self-pity to take over his life. And he never let fear hold him back from doing the things he wanted, or having a family, or being a terrific dad and granddad. He was not “damaged” by that experience.

Then I compare that to my dad & his mom, both of whom have allowed their childhoods to warp them in some terrible way. Both prefer to cast themselves as the perpetual victim, saying poor me, and never taking any personal responsibility for actions in relationships after they became adults. They find being the victim and living in that fear better than admitting to mistakes and accepting responsibility. How pitiful. Did you hate Gollum or pity him? Or a little of both?

To no one’s surprise, my dad wrote me back and said that family didn’t mean much to him and he had no interest in having a relationship with his only grandchild. I had a fairly bitter post lined up Friday. But when I really thought about it, I remembered that I have vowed to not be the 3rd generation to fall into that trap. Yes, I am mad at my dad. It’s hard to juggle all the things in life, but that doesn’t mean the children from your first marriage should be considered disposable when it gets to be tough. What he has done makes me angry, and hurt. But mostly I feel sorry for him. He’s the big loser here – not me, and not my son. How pathetic that at nearly 60 he cannot say “I’m sorry”. How miserable his life must be to forever carry a burden he refuses to release.