I don't know about you, but there are days when I just need to vent. And, much to the chagrin of my sister, Black, she's the one who gets to hear it. A few years ago, given my tendency to blah-blah-blah, she asked me to let her know right up front whether I'm looking for advice or merely letting off steam. When I questioned (with some annoyance) what difference did it make, she pragmatically explained it impacts whether she has to listen carefully, or even comment (although she'll throw in questions like, "Really?" or, "And then what?" to make me feel like she's paying attention). Bottom line: she knows that once I've had my vent, I'm good. It's out of my system and I'm (usually) ready to move on.
But occasionally there are times when I still need to talk to her, and although I'm looking for advice it's similar to a vent in that I don't really need her to listen. But, unlike a vent, ironically enough, this is when I need to listen to myself.
Confused? Well, at first, so was I. It started when I found myself not knowing what to do about something (the particulars aren't important), so I called her looking for advice. But as I started talking, I heard myself answering her questions before she even asked them. I was explaining my thought process, going through the pros and cons of the situation, and even running through the various scenarios that might happen based on what I decided. Of course, Black would occasionally throw in a "Why?" (her favorite question), but by the time I finally stopped talking, I had my answer.
Over time, I found this situation repeating itself – sometimes related to our mother or my daughters, a high dollar purchase, or sometimes just a small decision I was struggling with (they often seem the hardest to make) – with me often prefacing the conversation by admitting,
I've found that saying things out loud usually helps me figure things out. So, although it sounds counterintuitive, this is one of those times when I need someone to talk to, but the good news is I'm not expecting you to do anything more than that.
Well, not only does Black appreciate the heads-up, but the first time I said it, it provided the perfect opportunity for one of her smart-ass comments,
In other words, you do not want me to interrupt you while you are talking to yourself.
Exactly! Because sometimes you don't need advice as much as you just need a sounding board.
It seems the pandemic has resulted in people “recycling” relationships from their past, and I have already admitted to doing that and then being “ghosted” (the relationship was doomed the first go-round and trying to resurrect it reminded me of why). Although on the surface it may seem rude, there are a few “legitimate” reasons for ghosting, some less obvious than others.
Looking back to decades of dating, a handful of engagements, and two failed marriages, I realized none of them started as friendships. I will also admit that very few started with sparks of passion (I know those fizzle out), but all were analyzed in terms of compatibility. Too bad I was not aware of research indicating the majority of romantic relationships begin as long-term friendships.
This story began as an impromptu business meeting when I asked to speak to the manager of a food franchise I frequented, thinking there might be an opportunity to create a joint marketing opportunity with Red & Black. There was no way to know the attractive man sitting toward the back of the store, who I noticed when I first walked in, would be the district manager.
Although we seemed to connect in terms of business and marketing, and exchanged contact information, nothing came of it. Yet I would occasionally think of him. Several years later, Red and I were invited to speak at the 2011 Texas Conference for Women, and when we ran into him in the exhibition hall, I explained how we mentioned his company in our presentations.
Starting then, and over the years, we would occasionally find small ways to work together. But, we could go months without any contact, and then would meet for drinks and talk business and life. For hours. Red would ask why I did not pursue more, and I would always have an answer … or maybe it was an excuse. At first, I did not want to mix business and pleasure. Later, I wondered if it was mutual but did not want to risk the friendship hoping for more.
This past fall, as we all started to venture back out post-pandemic, I invited him to my high-rise for drinks, which Red pointed out was a significant step as I never invited anyone to my home. (In the past decade, only one other non-platonic man had seen my place.) The feelings seemed mutual, as was the apprehension about risking the friendship. As we talked for hours, I realized that he knew me better than almost anyone.
And, we had our first kiss. And, a second date, where I admitted, much to his surprise, that although I was a planner, I was going to try and let this relationship (he called it “being an item”) evolve organically. It was a new approach for me as I always look 20 years down the road and work backward.
Life then interrupted. Abruptly. And, repeatedly. First, my mother passed. Then, he had to deal with multiple life events that happened one right after another. At first, we texted on a regular basis. And then, there was nothing.
It was as if we had fallen back into our old habit of getting busy and putting the other person on the back burner. Not out of our lives, but recognizing something else needed our immediate attention. And, although he was in my thoughts, I decided to let him deal with things in his own way, with just the occasional text to let him know I was here if he needed me. Because,
We will always be friends, but if you rearrange the letters of the word “item,” you get the word “time” … and if we ever are to truly become an “item”, the time must be right.
|
I can’t believe it’s already May, which means hot and humid weather is just around the corner. All I can say is … ugh. |
|
Not a scientific term, but descriptive nonetheless. And, I hate to break the news to you, but the science of climate change and global warming means summers will keep getting hotter. |
|
I can remember growing up in New York and summers being hot, but not like now. Of course, it didn’t help that Mommy didn’t run the air conditioning until it got into the 90s. |
|
You cannot compare New York and Texas summers. But, I remember when we first got central air conditioning. It was because Daddy worked in the industry. And, before it was even standard equipment for new homes. Mom saved it for “special occasions” or heatwaves; it did not run all the time. |
|
Which explains why at night, when it cooled off, Mommy and Daddy would sit on folding chairs on the front driveway along with our neighbors. |
|
I wonder what they discussed every night. Obviously, that was well before climate change was a topic, let alone a hot topic, so to speak. |
|
Cute, but we didn’t know then what we know now. And if we don’t start making serious changes, the crisis will only get worse. Which means we need to do more than just talk about it. |
|
And, play the blame game. |
|
So, who do you think is to blame? |
|
Many blame the “older” generation, saying we allowed this to happen because, for decades, we did not do anything to prevent it. Increased use of cars and electricity. Burning an ever-increasing amount of fossil fuels. Not “going green”. Not even thinking about it. All of which led to where we are today. |
|
You’ve always said, “Doing nothing is a decision. A decision to maintain the status quo.” But when you say blaming the “older” generation, surely you can’t mean us?! |
|
“Older” is a relative term. For younger people, that might be us Baby Boomers or even Generation X. |
|
But what did we do wrong? |
|
When you were a baby, there was no such thing as disposable diapers. I can still remember the stinky diaper pail in your nursery. Not one of my fondest memories of you. |
|
Thanks for sharing that. But you’re right. When I had the girls, it was a given that I’d use disposable diapers. I can only imagine how many thousands of diapers I’ve contributed to landfills! But we didn’t know about climate change back then. |
|
If it makes you feel better, there is some debate whether cloth diapers are better for the environment. But, the point is convenience became the deciding factor and I doubt the environmental impact was even considered. |
|
Good point, as I certainly never thought about it. But in my defense, once I learned that plastic was bad for the environment, I started recycling. And not just plastic, but also paper and glass. I’ve been doing it for years. |
|
That is better than not, but there are 3-Rs: Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle, and recycling is not necessarily the best option. Funny thing is we “reused” long before it even was “a thing.” Do you remember reusing brown paper grocery bags by repurposing them into textbook covers? |
|
Yes! Daddy and I would do it together. Of course, him being an engineer, they were perfect. And then I’d decorate them. But now that you bring up “reusing” things, I remember going to the drive-through at Dairy Barn with Daddy. We’d always have empty glass milk bottles to return when we’d buy more milk. |
|
Back then, there were deposits not only on glass milk bottles but also on soda and beer bottles. They would be washed and sterilized, refilled, and reused over and over again. And, drinking water came from the tap – not plastic bottles. |
|
OK, but there was still plenty of plastic. Do I need to remind you of Mom’s kitchen? Full of expired food and plastic grocery store containers and bags. I bet some of the plastic was over 50 years old. |
|
Plastic survives for centuries. Regardless, it was plastic that she saved and reused, and did not trash. Granted, it might have been a financial decision since she was a Depression-era child and did not waste anything. |
|
So, where did we go wrong? Maybe society’s too convenience-oriented and wasteful. |
|
That is part of it, but if you do not know you are causing a serious environmental problem, why would you change what you are doing? The more important question is who did know, and why were we not told? |
|
Sorry, that sounds more like one of the X-Files episodes I watched years ago. Except, I’m not sure I want to know. The important thing is that we know now. And need to do something now! |
|
Exactly. So, regardless of who is to blame, we all can be part of the solution. |
Want to read other columns? Here's a list.
|
I appreciate that bullet points may not be the typical
approach to Mother’s Day, but it seems appropriate to me …
|
|
This year I write about Mother’s Day with a heavy heart and still much raw emotion, as our mom passed in December. My pragmatic side (yes, that’s usually Black’s area although she did sound somewhat warm and fuzzy above) knows that she had been 94 and led a full life, but that really doesn’t make it any less sad or fill the emptiness. But I find myself, when I least expect it and triggered by the most unexpected things, finding comfort in wonderful memories. And although Black’s first bullet point hits too close to home for me, I’ll try my best to focus on the other bullets. |