by Sharon O | Jun 8, 2021 | Uncategorized
It was two years ago, June 8th 2019 when I found out my sister had passed away.
It was a shock to hear it.
My sister who was a reason for me to pray, who was often a reason for me to feel responsible.
My sister. Passed away.
Just like today when I opened up my face book page; and realized a precious lady at our church had passed away over the weekend.
My sadness sits in quiet and remembering.
My sister had been ill, and she had struggled for some time before her death.
But it is still a huge shock to one’s heart.
My ‘friend at church’ was ill and fighting for 18 months.
Her journey was much different than my sisters.
Her lifestyle very different too.
My sister was the second born of three girls.
Kind of a restless soul since she was able to walk or talk.
She was stubborn and didn’t really fit in the way one would think she should.
You know the society etiquette stuff where one is expected to act or be one way.
Yeah that wasn’t her.
She was my sister and if I could do one thing; it would be to sit with her and visit one more time.
She often tried to protect me but in her attempt; she would fail in her efforts.
Then she would just leave and not return for months.
She was a wondering soul.
Two years ago she passed away.
I never said good bye and never did closure with her.
It will always bother me.
Maybe she never noticed, maybe she did.
I cannot undo what was done and or said, it is all over now.
All I have is memories.
Just like the memories I have of my lady friend at church.
She was a warrior of the Lord and always a delight in whatever she would do.
Sometimes all we end up with are a few memories and few letters.
My sister sent me cards and gave me a few trinkets throughout the years.
Nothing of great value or cost, just a thoughtful gifts from her heart.
Like I said, she was simple. Not complicated. Not high energy or high in expectations.
She was herself.
The second born daughter out of three.
It was two years ago June 8th 2019 My sister left for her final time.
by Sharon O | Jun 3, 2021 | Uncategorized
I saw a quote on face book and it stirred me to write about it.
The quote: A child’s shoulders were not built to bear the weight of their parents’ choices.
The quote is from TobyMac Speaklife website and I think it’s ok to use it.
Coming from a childhood that was difficult and testy, I see this as a very important quote.
As we were growing up we didn’t get to choose, where we would be living and with who.
It was not only disturbing but very emotionally unstable.
Our mother was a single mom and often times her ‘choices’ were not good.
She did provide a home that was clean, and we did have food on the table.
But the burden of ‘her singleness’ and the need to provide for us was hard.
We had to bear the consequences of what she would decide.
I have also seen parents confide in their children, and act like their children are best friends.
I am not so sure that is a good idea either.
They can’t decide how to support a parent, because they always want to.
It has to be age appropriate sharing and often times the parent can make a wrong choice.
Whether it be a good balance or an uneven one.
Psychologists have said, often times kids who are from abusive homes, want to go back there.
It is familiar to them no matter if it’s healthy or not.
The weight of parents choices are often heavy.
Parents’ who are unhealthy do not stop to think how this ‘decision’ will affect my children.
They are often self absorbed or just coping and not really into the ‘psychology of choices’.
We went to so many schools growing up I never knew what was going on.
I still can’t do basic math very well, because one school was doing one kind and another school another kind.
I was just into surviving.
Bearing the weight is a heavy set of words.
I remember that weight.
It pulled me down so hard for so long, until I was able to push past it.
After working in therapy I am now way past it.
My parents are no longer here, but the choices they made affected each one of us.
Even as adults.
Nothing goes unnoticed.
I saw a quote on face book and it stirred me to write about it.
by Sharon O | May 21, 2021 | Uncategorized
Today is a birthday to remember.
Today would have been my dad’s birthday.
I don’t remember any birthday’s spent with him.
It’s hard for me to imagine or even say that.
He was not in my life for many years and then when he returned, he lived very far away.
It was not a convenient drive to see him, it was miles of traveling to get there.
He was not a man who would enjoy parties or festivities in his honor.
I am sure I sent him a few cards throughout the years, but they are long gone by now.
Birthday’s are funny things, for many of us.
As you get older it is just another day, another spot on the calendar.
I have made a wonderful chocolate cake and I have celebrated a few birthdays with it.
In fact I am making one tomorrow for a Sunday gathering.
My dad might have liked that one, I don’t know.
There are many things I don’t know about him.
Did he even like chocolate?
He was a cowboy. He was strong in his opinions. He cared deeply but never really showed it.
He loved dogs. Not so much a cat person.
I remember one time when we were together.
I wanted some ‘cat tails, and thistle’ and he stopped alongside the road and picked me some.
But oh did he complain about it with my husband, “who would want those things?”
Around the fields and farms they were every where.
My original ones got ruined by my cats; so we picked me a few new ones a few years ago.
When we were back in the area where they grew.
I think of dad every time I see them in my kitchen window.
He was a cowboy. He did farm work for many years, he used to be an auctioneer.
He did welding for many of the neighbors when he lived at the coast.
He pretty much taught himself many trades.
Happy Birthday dad.
Today is a birthday to remember.
by Sharon O | May 15, 2021 | Uncategorized
There was a challenge on a writing site to write about six different words and then post the daily writings on Instagram.
I don’t use Instagram like that.
I do post there; but it is usually pictures of my cats or flowers or assorted things around the house.
The word I have chosen to write about, after a lot of thinking… is Middle.
She was the middle child.
Second born girl out of three.
I had an older sister, and then a middle sister and I was the youngest.
She was by nature a lost child.
A bit rebellious and maybe in today’s term, troubled.
She as also funny, and caring and confusing.
In today’s world of children she would be attention deficit or a slower learner.
I am glad she wasn’t labeled. She had enough issues to deal with; a ‘label’ would just make them worse.
School was never easy for her and she had no interest in academics.
Junior high and high school was just nothing, not important and she didn’t care.
She didn’t graduate or finish high school. She ran to the streets instead.
They became her family.
Drugs became a friend and an enemy and how she survived them is miracle.
I would see her a few times a year, usually around Christmas and she would stay till her birthday, a few months later.
We were close and when she was gone, she would would often call me, and then I would have to tell our mother her news.
It wasn’t easy for me to be ‘in the middle’… I got the responses after being the bearer of bad news.
It was hard to be the one telling.
I missed her often and so many days and nights; I would look out my window and wonder.
If she was dead or alive.
She was living the words spoken to her. No one expected anything from her and she did not disappoint that expectation.
She actually didn’t have a huge chance at becoming more, it just wasn’t in her ability.
I actually don’t know if given the chance; if she would have proved herself able and praiseworthy.
I do remember she was good at math, and it was amazing to watch her figure it all out.
She was smart on some levels, and simple on many others.
She was funny and pretty and caring, she had thick dark hair and I was very jealous.
She went through many difficult and hard moments in her life and survived them too.
She eventually met a man who loved her deeply and accepted her daughters as his own.
She fell back into the alcoholic life as she aged; and one more time we rescued her again.
Over coming her ‘inner self’ was too hard. We did what we could to protect her, but it wasn’t enough.
She passed away a few years ago.
She was the middle child; the second born of three daughters.
There was a challenge on a writing site about six different words; and I chose the word – middle
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by Sharon O | May 8, 2021 | Uncategorized
Another mothers day is here and we celebrate mothers all over the area.
I remember going to church on this day; and watching the uncomfortable stirring of moms in the pews.
The pastor being insensitive to moms who have lost their children, or who never had any of their own.
Then he would say, “stand up” if you are a mother.
I often felt like it was a slap because for many in recovery, maybe mom was not a good warm feeling.
Maybe this day brings all kinds of deep feelings that try to be buried.
It is a process always.
I often told my own children if they needed therapy to send me the bill, because I would probably be the topic.
To be a mom is a privilege that some don’t get to experience.
Maybe the desire to be a mom is so deeply rooted it has caused a bitter root to grow.
I have known those who have ached for that tiny little gift to be born.
I think we need to be really sensitive on these kinds of days.
I don’t like the expectations of this ‘holiday’.
I remember when we were young married and doing the ‘must do’ list.
We would go buy flowers for my mom, his mom and my grandma.
That was expected and although appreciated; it kind of took the surprise away.
My husband has learned throughout the years, do not do anything over the top for mothers day.
One year HE DID surprise me; and we got all dressed up and went downtown Portland for a very large brunch.
It was nice, but now he knows I am not a crowd person.
I would much rather have scrambled eggs and coffee at home.
I remember standing at the card section for many years trying to find the ‘right’ card.
Never could. The flowery prose was just not my experience.
I told my counselor one time that someone needs to create ‘cards for those in recovery’.
The words just never matched the feelings.
I would finally settle for a flower on the outside, with few words as possible.
How sad, but it was truth.
My experience was not a rose colored picture.
I am very proud of my son and my daughter, and all of their children who call me grandma.
It is something I never get tired of hearing.
If you are a mom reading this, take some time for YOU today.
Another mothers day is here and we celebrate mothers all over the area.
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