I love looking through old photos. They're a reminder of where I came from. I'll admit, there is somewhat of a sadness when I'm combing through them. You see, I have always been a Daddy's girl... a 100% Daddy's girl. Dad was the family photographer. That's what's missing. Photos with my dad. There are a few, scattered through the years. They are the ones I treasure most! Most of the photos of Dad are of him standing beside whatever car we owned at the time. I know those cars weren't more important than his family. Those cars were simply a means of transportation that got him to work so he could provide for our family. So, here's my piece of advice: Moms, get a shot of Dad with the kids before the camera is put away. Your kids will thank you someday. I'm sure of it!
We all have them... you know, the "who will save your soul, if you won't save your own" stories that we keep hidden away.
It's amazing, the things we're willing to give up, even sacrifice, all in the name of love. We'll turn our whole world upside down for a chance to be with the one we love and desire, knowing full well it's all a gamble. I can't help but think of Romeo & Juliet's outcome, and quite honestly, that makes me skittish. I've learned to take things slowly, because I'm a firm believer that if it's meant to be, it'll be.
Moon shots that speak to me.. She cries out for someone to tell of her stories... Photography -Ty Thomas
I have never been a begging or bargaining mom, nor have I ever been accused of repeating simple behavior expectations to my kids over and over again. And, I've definitely never been a 'counting' mom. You, know... the parents that say, "I'm giving you to the count of three" with that annoyingly long, drawn-out "1... 2... 3..." Those parents make fools of themselves, as well as teach their children to test their limits as to how far their kids can push them, without going over the edge. Nope... In my circle of friends, every mother has one... you know, "The Look"... that look that stops kids dead in their tracks no matter how old they get. That's how we roll... No counting.. No take it to the limit one more time, because "The Look" works. It speaks volumes. My look is pictured below, in the drawing of me, compliments of the police sketch artist ...
Here's an article, explaing why we hold grudges, along with how to get over a grudge. It's from an unlikely source, the humor site- Cracked magazine, along with my input tucked in here, there, well basically eveywhere:
The first piece of advice, “Drop your grudges as soon as humanly possible,” is probably the best — and the hardest. We know that it’s best not to hold grudges, but it’s so hard to do! Holding on to grudges is such an odd thing to do. No one wants to be angry, resentful, and unhappy, and yet we do keep, and hold on to grudges so ardently, sometimes for decades. Why?
It seems obvious to say, but it’s an idea much harder to internalize. Sometimes our grudges are really about us, and not so much about the person who hurt us. If we really want to let go of grudges, we first have to understand why we hold them in the first place.
Here are some reasons why we may hang on to a grudge:
1. Because they are a great substitute for self-improvement. If we keep the aggressor’s offence fresh and close at all times, then anytime we quietly ask ourselves if we’re behaving badly ourselves (or if the aggressor himself accuses us of doing him wrong), we just have to come back with, “Sure, I could do better, but what about THIS?” Yep, no point in worrying about doing the hard work of trying to fix ourselves, or our souls, when there’s THIS monstrosity around.
2. Because it’s easier to say “I’m angry” than “I’m hurt.” We’d rather be outraged than admit we’re woundable. We don’t want to admit that the really distressing thing is not the offence itself, but our own vulnerability, and the vulnerability of the human state in general. Taking a good, hard look at the human condition is legitimately terrifying, especially if we’re not in the habit of turning fears over to God. Being angry is a way of being in control, and it makes a great mask for fear, uncertainty, and other, more troubling emotions.
3. Because we’ve thought of ourselves as the victims for such a long time, we don’t know who we are if we’re not victims. This is a tough one to admit, but at a certain point, we have to ask ourselves, “What would it actually look like if I got what I wanted? And do I truly want it?” Would I be happy if I got the thing I’ve putatively been panting after (revenge, recompense, pity, or whatever)? Or, is it more to my advantage to be able to keep things the way they are, because at least they’re familiar? Shouldn’t we want something larger and more valuable than pity or revenge?
4. Because it gives us control over the person who wounded us. If we always think of that person as “That person who did such-and-such to me,” it’s a way of limiting him, of whittling him down to toy size, so we can keep him in our pockets and tell him what he’s for. It’s much harder to acknowledge that even aggressors are human, whole, complex, layered people, and that hurting us is just one of the many, many things that they can, and does do.
5. Because we’re hanging onto a childish belief that life ought to be fair, like an accounting book is fair, and part of our identity is bound up in keeping track of stuff and making sure it comes out even. Which is a sure fire way of making sure that we never learn much at all about love. Love takes root in the fertile wilderness of uncertainty and ambiguity, and languishes in the sterile, antiseptic laboratory of mathematical justice.
Okay, we've been enlighened on the How's & Why's we do this bitter Grudge thing... So, what better time to do some deep cleaning... some Grudge Busting in ourself than right now? It's time. Let. It Go.
When I was a little girl, living out in the country in Tennessee, my father bought a pig at a livestock auction. He brought it home and put it in the pen, but it soon escaped by rooting under the fence, digging a hole large enough for it to fit underneath, and run away.. To solve that problem, Dad had a ring put in its nose to prevent it from rooting out of the pen again. Dad was happy with the outcome. The pig was not... That memory came back to me when I looked down at the ring on my left hand towards the end of my last relationship... I was like that pig... Pent-up... Broken in spirit... Feeling stuck with someone who, as it turns out, I didn't even know. Freedom for me came in the form of learning his true reality. His dirty little secrets were finally exposed to me. I had been nothing more than his ATM, as well as an unknowing cover for his huge web of lies. But thankfully, unlike the pig, I had the ability to stand up, dust myself off, walk away, and never look back. Afterall, I was the one who supported us financially. We live and, hopefully learn from our experiences. Yep... Vows, and the ring that goes along with it, mean absolutely nothing to me now, because they can be broken... and that's something I never want to take part in again. I've chosen to live single for quite some time now, and I'm happy... In fact, it's one of the best decisions I have ever made!
On the Subject of Rejected Love... Nothing tells it better than the stories told in old country love songs...
On the left side of the bed is right where you belong.
My Baby's Gone...
It Matters To Me...
Good as I Was to You... is this the thanks I get?
Does anybody out there want a Second Hand Heart, one that's already broken in?
There's so many people
Out in the world just like me
Hoping to hear a few
Simple words to believe
And one honest touch is more than enough
For someone with no one to love
Though I'm afraid, my heart can be saved
And I'm not the kind to give up
Does anybody out there want
A second hand heart
One that's already broken in?
I think I made it through the hardest part
At least enough to try love again
There's a raging fire in me
A perfect match can start
If anybody out there wants
A second hand heart -Gary Morris
Carl Beazley is a self-taught artist who specializes in surrealist portraits. Below is a sampling of his work. I absolutely love him!
For more on Carl Beazley, go to: https://www.artistaday.com/?p=23304