Simplicity and Honesty

I normally start all my blogs with a quote. Today - not so much.  I'm going to try to keep this simple and honest. No pretty pictures. Just raw and honest about a few things.

When I was a kid, I had all the unrealistic expectations you would expect a child to have. As I became a teenager, I had a couple of lofty ambitions. I expected I would become a journalist, the next Woodward/Bernstein, or I would work for Rolling Stone or Time magazine - travel the world and see the sights and hear the sounds the world has to offer.  But I grew older and I settled for less and I settled down. I got used to routine and the day-in/day-out became comfortable.

I never stopped to wonder why.

The time has come to take everything I have known and disenfranchise myself from my hometown and take on "new adventures." It's harder when we get older. Even though I remind myself I'm not old, right now - this very moment - I feel old. And afraid.

There. I said it. I'm afraid of starting completely over.

I'm afraid of moving to a new place that's not so comfortable. This town is like a well-worn pair of jeans. But I'm scared to see if that pair of jeans is just hanging on by a thread and if my underwear is starting to show.

I'm afraid of trying to find a new job.
I'm afraid of not finding a job.
I'm afraid of looking for a new place to live.
I'm afraid of homelessness.
I'm afraid of finding new doctors because mine know me so well.
I'm afraid of not finding doctors that have a clue.
I'm afraid of driving in a place I know nothing about that has a crap-ton more traffic.
I'm afraid of getting into an accident.
I'm afraid of not fitting in.
I'm afraid of people not understanding my warped sense of humor.
I'm afraid of being "alone" in a place with thousands of people.
I'm afraid of wanting to come running "home" and home just not being home anymore.

I never thought that my fearless teenage self would be sitting in front of a computer at middle age afraid to embrace change. But there it is in stark black and white. Simple and honest. 

Day 68 - A Piece of History

Everyone in life has a passion. They are passionate about something or someone, even if no one else knows what that passion is. It's one of God's more interesting gifts to us. I have a few things I could consider passions - my DH and my two darlings I am very passionate about, I'm passionate about helping others. I'm also passionate about writing. But one of the other things that I am truly passionate about is a story that started 99 years ago. As the anniversary draws near each year, I always find myself reading, contemplating and wondering about a cold, moonless night on calm seas where 1,517 people perished because of a set of circumstances that spiraled out of control.

I segue here because I will write more on the tragedy in April. I wanted to actually tell you about something I own - a piece of the Titanic.

When I was in New York City a couple of years ago, the TITANIC exhibition was there and my brother-in-law, my sister, my DH and I went to it. I can't really describe it to you, it HAS to be experienced and if you EVER have the chance... GO!!!

You will find at the end of the exhibition, you have the opportunity to buy books and tapes and all sorts of things that are pretty cool. Of COURSE I was going to buy something, but the question was what. I looked around high and low and dodged people right and left. I fell in love with a few of the books and some replicas of some of the instruments used on board and that type of thing. Then I found the one thing that WAS Titanic.

Before Titanic left port, there were 5,892 tons of coal loaded for the journey and much of that came from other ships who had to relinquish their loads because of a coal miner's strike that was going on at the time. Titanic burned almost 700 tons of coal a day and as she was just a couple of days into the trip when she sank, thousands of tons were scattered across the debris field.

The exhibition had custom made necklaces with some of the coal recovered from the sea floor inside. My daughters have matching glass hearts filled with coal and I have a cross filled with the same. I wear it proudly, though for a very long time I was afraid to. I was afraid of it breaking or me losing it or something like that. However, I realized if we all live our lives in fear, we wouldn't have a life worth living. That necklace is a pretty good reminder to me to live fearlessly. And that's what I try to do.

If you want to see a permanent exhibition, Branson,MO has one and here's the link for you. http://www.titanicbranson.com/

Like I said... I will write more in April on Titanic... but in case you are wondering how this "lady" became a passion of mine. It all started in 6th grade at St. Joseph's Elementary School and a dreaded report. I don't remember exactly what the assignment was, but I do remember I couldn't think of a darned thing to write. I looked all over the house for some inspiration - everything from my father's Yankees baseball contract to flipping through pages in the encyclopedia (A big set of expensive books that quickly became outdated.) I remember sitting in the living room going through a book of old newspaper articles and found this.....

My heart was touched and I sat in the living room crying as I read and reread the article many times over. Yes, I did make an A on the paper, but I learned more than Mrs. Akeroyd anticipated.