Year: 2014
Grief in the Stewart Case.
The Tony Stewart incident is not new news by any means. Everyone knows about the accident that claimed a young man’s life, and most people fully understand that it was an accident. Whether or not you agree, I simply don’t care to argue. The aftermath of that incident is what I find to be truly mind boggling.
Last week was the first time that I saw a smile on Tony’s face since August after the top 5 finish he had in Martinsville. It has been a considerable 3 months of seeing grieving Tony who wouldn’t speak to press and who was clearly distraught with the incident and the court proceedings afterwards. Last night, though, he actually tweeted. He congratulated Michael Waltrip on his Dancing a With the Stars run. That’s it.
Well some ignorant ass stirred up a frenzy by bringing up the incident AGAIN and, quite rudely, interacting with various fans. Someone said that “he got back in the race car as if he had just squished a cockroach”. Another said that he simply “hadn’t grieved long enough”. Even worse was the comment that “he will murder again” (don’t get me started on the ignorance of THAT comment). All I want to address today is grief.
Tony Stewart’s grieving timeline seems fair. The accident happened in August and he waited 4 WEEKS before returning to his race car. Followed by another month or so of investigations and then the Grand Jury proceedings. In all his interviews and, even at the track and off the track, his demeanor was of one who was in deep grief. He said in an interview “this accident has changed my life…I will never be the same” almost choking up at times. The usually rough and tumble don’t-fuck-with-me racer had turned into another person almost overnight. There is no question that this accident affected him and that he did appropriately handle his grief.
However, he didn’t lose a loved one. His grief was, and is, a little different. He grieved the fact that he accidentally killed someone. I’m sure it plays back in his mind all the time. He probably struggled with what he could have done to avoid it. If only he had known he was there before he was upon him, or if only there had been a light on that end of the track he might have seen him standing there. His grief is still grief, but he doesn’t have to see the empty room where he used to sleep or the empty chair at the table at supper time. It’s expected that the family of Ward’s is taking it much much harder. That doesn’t mean that Tony’s grief is insincere.
If there is one thing I have learned in life, it’s that grief can mean different things to different people. The day the grandmother who raised me died I cried for a week strait. But then, I moved on. Do I still miss her? Yes. But I didn’t stop my life because of it, and it proved to be healing that way. Do I still miss her? All the time and I do occasionally shed a tear for her, but it isn’t consuming. I know some people who “obsessively” grieve. They will grieve for months or even years because that is how they handle it. But whether you grieve for a short or long time doesn’t mean your grief is any less. No one has a right to criticize your grief or the way you handle it. Grief is a personal experience. If Tony is starting to finally feel whole again after three long months of depression, who has the right to judge him? He is entitled to move on and find happiness just like anyone else. Just like Ward’s family is entitled to continue grieving. One day they too will start to feel whole, and even if they grieve for years, no one has a right to tell them they’re grieving too long. Now if Tony had never grieved at all or had jumped right back in the race car the next day, I might question his sanity and, of course, whether the death was accidental, but that isn’t the case. He has grieved enough, let the man move on.
I’m Putting My Foot Down: Wedding Edition
So officer K and I have been engaged for 2 YEARS this coming November and we still don’t have a wedding date. I’ll tell you why. Between Job searching, Police Academy, training, house searching, NAS school, more training, mortgage process, Sobriety school, more training, renovations, HazMat school, more training, packing and moving….where am i to set a date in all this chaos? Life really gets in the way.
Meanwhile, our families have NEVER met because my family lives in Texas. My religious Grandfather is pushing us to get married because he disapproves of us living together, and my sisters all want to be bridesmaids. If I try to set a date, one of my three sisters comes up with a reason why it doesn’t work for their schedule, but their ideal dates don’t correspond with Officer K’s training schedule. I can’t have it in the summer because South Georgia is way too hot, humid, and gnatty that time of year. Plus, with all our renovations our wedding budget is slim plus the date wouldn’t even be until 2016 to save money and finish moving and renovating the house. Officer K and I have no friends because, quite frankly, we are too busy for friends, and the friends we used to have screwed us over. So we have no more reasons TO have one: we can’t afford it, don’t care to have it, have no friends to celebrate with, and would rather bypass the awkward first time family meeting thing (and do we really want to KISS in front of them? No.). Plus, our families can’t even get along with each other let alone mix them all in a pot with opposite people. That’s a cannon waiting to blast. So, why am I trying to have a wedding anyway? Beats me all to hell.
However, the little girl in me screams to have a romantic day to celebrate with my lover and very best friend, and to have some great pictures to commemorate it and hang in our new home. Because that’s the dream after all, am I right?
Solution: we are eloping at the beach. There are tons of agencies just dying for our business down in Florida. That’s only a 2 hour drive. It can be beautiful, cheap, and most importantly intimate. No stressing or fussing or worrying if our families are getting along (which they won’t). Just a romantic seaside affair complete with professional photographs (which we probably don’t have a budget for anyway if we planned a big affair). And in all of my wedding ideas this one makes me feel the most excited and the most relaxed. Not to mention, I could probably pull that off next year instead of waiting for 2, and after three years I’m just ready to get the wedding over with.
Green cleaning
So I’m definitely no “green junkie”. I’m young and at that stage where I’m still trying to learn how to be a functional adult. Being Southern raised, I’m still set in old, albeit unhealthy, traditions. I still make fried food once a week and sometimes I don’t always make veggies with every meal. However, if there is one area where it’s easy to jump on the “Green Bandwagon” it is when it comes to cleaning supplies.
I always used to use mainstream cleaners. The usual household suspects that most people clean with. Everything was working fine until Officer K and I got a new puppy. His name is Levi and he’s the cutest Cheweenie (chihuahua-weenie dog mix) you will ever meet. Yes, a Cheweenie is a certified dog breed. Anyway, I noticed that he would follow behind me and lick the floor after I mopped. At first I didn’t really think anything about it until he puked in the floor an hour later. That’s what REALLY caught my attention. I love my dog like my own child and I knew these chemicals were making him sick. Not to mention, was tired of the harsh fumes and chemical burns. So I scoured Pinterest for natural, alternative solutions that would be safe for a puppy, or small child, to lick, and pleasant for me to breath in and gentle on my skin.
1 cup vinegar
1 cup rubbing alcohol
1 cup water
A few drops of Dawn
Mix it in a spray bottle and spray as you go. I used a microfiber mop and I’m really happy with the results. Maybe it’s just me, but I could swear my floors looked cleaner than moping with your other more traditional cleaners.
Granted, the odor of vinegar and alcohol isn’t the best smell ever, but it doesn’t linger too long. You could add a few drops of your favorite essential oil to add a more pleasant aroma, but I don’t find the scent to be bothersome. It’s way better than pungent chemical odors by far.
The best part is this costs literal pennies to make. A half gallon of vinegar and 16 oz of rubbing alcohol last about a year and I spend probably $5. It beats spending $6 every month, that’s for sure.
A year.
Officer K and I were riding home the other night and chatting about how much is changing and has changed in a year. Last year was like a nightmare for us. When Kyle started his job and proposed to me back in 2012, the plan was to go to the police academy the following January and be married by last spring. Well, we didn’t quite make that timeline.
Last year was a very bleak and distressing year for us. We weren’t sure if the State had any intention of sending him at all. We weren’t sure if we would ever be able to afford even a courthouse wedding, and we definitely weren’t sure if we would be able to buy a house in the next ten years. Things were getting to the point where we started questioning our relationship and if it was going anywhere, and if it did could we survive this stressful time? Finally, last October, we received the news that he would be sent to the Academy after all. October-January leading up to the start of school he was a wreck of nerves. He was putting his job on the line to try to make it through the intense and stressful Academy with a 40% pass rate. There were many tears shed and a lot of stress involved, but we made it. He passed, even got the Sharpshooter award, and somehow our relationship survived what I call the Quarter-Life Crisis of 2013. This year not only has he passed the Academy and several other training schools, but we just got a new house and a wedding date set for next fall.
It’s incredible to think that in one year’s time we could go from worrying about the future and stressing about all the what ifs of if he failed, or if he lost his job, or if he couldn’t live out his dream of being an officer, to getting certified and buying a house and really getting life started for us. We are at such a different stage in life than we were a year ago. If you had told us this time last year that we would be signing mortgage papers and preparing for a move and renovations on our home we would have probably killed you for giving us false hope. Yet here we are, and we are incredibly blessed.
When you feel like your relationship has hit a wall and you don’t think you can handle it, just hold on. You won’t believe how much can change in 3 months, 6 months, or especially in a year. I have never felt closer to Officer K than I do right now because I honestly feel like if we can get through that nightmare, we can get through anything. We just have to give it a while, and not give up on each other. Isn’t that what marriage is about?
I can’t be disabled.
I hate when people tell me that I can’t .
You can’t drive.
You can’t work.
You probably can’t get disability benefits.
I just got back from the lawyer’s office. Let me tell you one thing, he was as nice as could be. However, he is also very factual. He knows that people with my condition have a harder time than most at receiving disability or SSI benefits. Seizures are such an ambiguous disease and simple partial seizures are so rare that it is pretty hard for anyone to prove anything. Which means that, while I should keep going with the process and do the best that I can it is going to be a battle.
Mind you, my dream is still to work. I want to be a receptionist and alphabetize files. I would be so good at it! The lawyer said, rather emphatically, that I probably would never get a job dealing with the public, and my heart just hit the floor. That was right after he witnessed me have a partial seizure in my hands, and I know I looked like I belonged in a nut house. He wasn’t being mean about it, he just wanted me to realize how I probably looked to potential employers. So, begrudgingly, I have to accept what I have been denying, that I’m one of the crazies. The kind who can only work packing jobs or count peanut shells, if I can even do that without breaking anything or falling down.
I am disabled. What a sour word to stomach! On the outside about 85% of the time I am perfectly normal and halfway attractive. Yet sometimes my muscles morph me into a freak because my brain decides to spaz and that categorizes me as disabled. Gross. Even worse, I get to have that category, but none of the benefits it comes with like a few hundred bucks a month to live on and free healthcare. What a joke! I have to live my life dependent on everyone around me, completely broke, and battling my own brain, but I can’t get anything for it. Meanwhile you have people faking back injuries and high on all kinds of drugs and they seem to get disability benefits no question. What a joke, America.
Seizing the Day
Life with epilepsy can be a nightmare at times. I know that there are those who have it who definitely have it far worse than I do, but I think for most all of us there is a daily battle. I have tonic clonic and simple partial seizures. My tonic clonic seizures are controlled by medication, but I still have the simple partial seizures daily if not several times a day and it keeps me from getting a driver license.
You don’t realize how extremely important driving is until you have to live without it. I can’t even carry myself to the store, and my job opportunities are limited to my neighborhood (which being a rural small town doesn’t make for many). Most jobs that I apply for require a driver license to run attends or make bank deposits. While I am not above walking, most employers see it as a waste of time.
I daily face the choice to “seize” the day. I can sit here in my apartment and mope because I can’t live a “normal” life, or I can be thankful for the blessings I do have. I have a wonderful fiancé who loves me and works hard to provide for us both, I have a wonderful family and in-laws, I have the cutest and sweetest dog ever and I have several talents that I can put to use. My seizures might take away my independence, but I still have a purpose and I still have the choice to either control my life; or let my seizures control my life. I can chose to resent it; or I can embrace it. I can’t change my seizures, but I can change how I chose to feel about them and how I let them affect my attitude. It’s time to seize the day, not just seize throughout my day.
Financial Organization.
Officer K and I are pretty old school when it comes to paying our bills. We still make out of the checks, lick the envelope, throw a stamp on them and send them via snail mail. We prefer it that way. His background in law enforcement makes it hard for him to trust online bill pay, and considering the security breaches that seem to be popping up everywhere it helps us sleep at night to know our information isn’t lurking around the internet. For me, I like it because I can physically hold and see all my statements and it helps me keep a better track of our finances.
Back before I became a responsible homemaker, these billing statements would end up piling up in dark recesses of our desk…and under the bed…and under the couch….I sucked at organization. I have our DVDs alphabetized, and the closet organized by color, but the important things had zero organization and it was a problem. So I did what any woman would do: I got on Pinterest and looked up some organizational ideas. For the life of me now, I can’t find the pin that gave me my initial inspiration. A Bowl Full of Lemons has a great whole home organizational binder, but I made one exclusively for our bills because I don’t need all those extra tabs in my stage of life.
What you’ll need:
1. A 1″-3″ 3-ring binder (depending on your needs. Remember each binder will hold one year’s worth of billing statements).
2. A pack of file tabs & labels. (Make sure you have enough for each separate creditor you have.)
3. A 3-hole punch
Optional (depending on your payment methods):
4. Stamps
5. A favorite pen
6. Your checkbook
Also, you can always print out a calendar, if that is the way you keep track of due dates, etc. and place it in the front of your binder, but I use my kitchen calendar because I found having a calendar that I could visually see helped me to remember better.
Label each divider based on your different monthly bills. Ex:
Mortgage
Water bill
Light bill
Car payment, etc.
I also have a section for bank statements and a miscellaneous section which is useful for store credit cards or medical bills that aren’t necessarily monthly expenses.
When the year is up, I buy a new binder and start over. I keep the old binder and label the year on it, that way if I ever need to access that information for tax purposes, I have all those statements in an easy to find and go through binder. It definitely beats a never-used file cabinet (or stacked up on the desk)!
When Racism is Reversed
Don’t get me wrong, I am not a racist. Does that mean I like every single black person I meet? No. Just the same way that I’m sure certain white people can annoy you (and certain white people annoy me too). The way I have always chosen to describe it is this: I respect anyone with good character who respects other people and themselves. Point blank.
I was raised in south Dallas. It can be a rough neighborhood, especially for a white person. I remember being the only white girl in most of my classes and being bullied by black people who treated me as if I owed them something. Calling me a dumb cracker, and talking about how much they hated white people. Somehow, that was okay. It is only racist if it’s against a black person, right? Wrong. The one time I retaliated, I got my hair yanked so hard I got whiplash, and someone spat in my face. I’ve noticed more and more that black people are quick go show hatred and attack white people, and quick to pull the race card. White people don’t want to retaliate because they don’t want to get hurt, or be called a racist. Because for some reason, only white people can be considered racist. It’s just not true.
There are some days that I feel like many black people have forgotten the words of the good Dr. King: the dream was equality. Not bullying. Not retaliating. Not holding white people responsible for the sins of their ancestors to avenge the pain of their own. That was never the dream:
“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”
When I think of the many years of slavery and segregation it makes me cringe as it should any human with feelings and a conscience. I understand how it can be a sensitive subject for people who had to live through it, but today most black people never lived in that society just like most white people haven’t either.
Yet somewhere along the line in the last 50 years or so the balance went from blacks being “on the bottom” to being “on the top”. White people are literally fearful of black people. Scared of getting robbed by thugs, scared of getting bullied for their race, or of getting sued for a misinterpretation of something they do or say that could be turned into a racial issue. Somehow equality turned into revenge, and white people are the proverbial doormats of society.
I encourage you (myself included), no matter what color you are, to let go of the past. Whether it’s resentment and hatred, or feelings of superiority. Let it go. We are all created equal. We all have choices each day to treat one another equally. There may be some individuals that you may not like, but don’t judge an entire group based off one bad apple. Every day you have a choice to love, to be kind, to be respectful, and to be the best person that you can be. If we all made those choices daily just think of how the world could change.
Finding Fulfillment.
Apathy and frustration seem to be the two biggest demons I battle daily. I’m 23 years old and some days I feel I have nothing to show for it. There are a plethora of battle wounds and scars, but not much else. The pressure is to be someone. If you aren’t “successful”, if you don’t have a fabulous career, a glamorous home and a perfect relationship, somehow you have missed the mark and are doomed a failure.
I have a medical condition that keeps me from being able to drive. My only option is public transportation. However, I love living in the rural area that I live in. I have roots here and a fiancé with a successful career here. I have sacrificed family and the potential for me to have a career, and maybe even a job, because I have found the one I love and I love our simple life here in Small Town, USA. Although, my decision to locate here led to scorn from my family and the judgment that I was “throwing my life away”.
I resent that concept. I would make this decision a million times over before I would go back to the city and be alone and miserable in the name of success. I have learned that what makes you successful in life isn’t how much money you make, or how big your home is, but the love and the happiness that you feel and someone to share it with. Sometimes I wish I could drive and pursue a career, and some days I get frustrated that I can’t even carry myself to the store. I have applied for several decent clerical jobs within waking distance of my home to ease some of the financial responsibility from my fiancé, but I haven’t landed one yet. Do I sometimes let the voice in my head tell me I’m a failure? Yes. But then I look around me and see how incredibly blessed I am and my hope is renewed that everything will come together in it’s time. For now, I find fulfillment in my relationship and the life that we are building together.
One is only a failure if they haven’t found personal fulfillment; not fulfillment in what society says should fulfill you. If you find yourself missing the proverbial mark, I encourage you to ask yourself what it takes for you to find fulfillment. Is it in a career? In making plenty of money? For some those are the ultimate goals for fulfillment. For others it may be something far more simple such as having a family or reaching out in your community. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you aren’t good enough or that your goals make you a failure because they do not match their goals. Life is too short to live unfulfilled.
Seizing the Day 