That feeling of want, and of wishing you were here. No surprise…been fighting it all day. I’ve done the usual tricks, I’ve avoided sappy songs, thought of only funny moments (which honestly only makes it worse) and told myself that I’m strong enough to not be reduced to tears.
Such a liar.
Almost eight years have passed since losing my Mom. One word to describe that- unfathomable. We were thick as thieves. We were laugh till you pee your pants friends. We were secret keepers, and stay up past dawn talking gals.
We were not ready for it to be over.
God has a plan. I’m not privy to it, therefore I have my days that I ask questions. I have my days that I celebrate her being gone as well, because being here was just too painful for her, and as a bestie, I didn’t want that for her. So, I carried on.
I had promised her I wouldn’t cry while she was sick- but damn all bet’s were off when she was gone. Pulling myself together wasn’t an option, even the tanqueray and tonic wouldn’t help.
I tried.
We threw her the best funeral a gal could ask for- beautiful and genuine. Funny stories filled an overflowing church on the day after Christmas. A testimony to how loved she was/is.
We picked up her ashes on my birthday, later having pizza and more tanqueray… my sister found the birthday gift she bought me in her closet- I have no idea what it was, I wanted nothing to do with that bright colored paper.
The void is palpable.
She has had so many Great Grand-babies since she’s been gone. She had only met one, and she was over the moon for her little man. I’d like to think that the ones who came after her departure she also held for awhile, and kissed their heads. They all laugh from their toes like she did, they are making her proud.
I realized today, when for no good reason, I started to cry, that I never let go. I have no intentions of starting now.
In January I had the idea to start a blog. ( insert tears, frustration, sleeplessness and a touch of excitement.) Finding my passion was top of mind as I worked through another brutal Michigan winter while my soul died from the experience.
I realized I had a million soul filling ideas, than a friend asked a question- “So, is the blog about finding your passion, or is writing your passion?” I had to consider the question for just a minute.
“I’m pretty sure writing is the passion..?” Honestly, this was a revelation.
My piece of pie was rediscovered!
So I have begun to unearth some of my old stories. Some are for children based on my hospital stays for open heart surgeries as a child, others I wrote for my kids when they were young, a novel half way done sits on my shelf, and so on….
Never one to be ahead of the times, I am still struggling to get going with today’s methods, and this blog has been a struggle bigger than I had imagined. Many thanks to all who continue to encourage me daily.
Years ago (decades) I had heard of “self publishing and Electronic books,” I didn’t have a clue what folks were talking about- Now, I’m a Grandma whose trying to get with the times while I dig up this old thing called “PASSION.” I didn’t know when I started months ago that it was going to be writing that pulled me out of the doldrums. I had a million business idea’s and I figured that one of them would steal my focus and I would spend countless hours proving that I could get a business idea launched and allow it to remain going on my mad skills…. nope, it’s writing, it has always been writing and it has been sitting in boxes and on closet shelves for decades waiting for me to remember it.
“I remember you old friend, I remember you!”
So although my writings will still focus on passion and finding it, rediscovering it or creating it out of this moment- it may not be the quest I thought I was going on. I have a lot to discover- about myself mainly and I’m grabbing a fork and digging into this piece of pie with gusto.
Thank you for taking the journey with me. I hope that we find it mutually beneficial.
I’m spending a few minutes of my morning sipping black coffee while I sneak one of my ever famous chocolate chip cookies. (yes, you know the ones.)
I’ve been deep in thought again, sometimes a good thing…sometimes not.
Getting my nerve up to fight with word press again because everywhere I turn there are posts, and quotes, and conversations about finding your passion so I am reaffirmed that I am not the only one out there searching. Right?
I keep going back to a conversation I had with my Mom, probably, shamefully about twenty years ago which would have put me in the thirty something age bracket. Ya know what I wondered about? “What did you want to be when you were growing up?” That my friends is a simple question asked probably about twenty years too late. I was really around thirty years old before I had the thought that my Mother maybe just maybe had a different idea in mind for how her dreams would play out. I mean, of course she had the best five kid’s that God had ever handed someone- so the idea that she didn’t always want to be twenty nine years old with five children hanging on her had never crossed my mind.
Her answer, if I recall, was that she wanted to do something with fashion. Come again??? If you’d met my Mom you would had guessed this answer was about 356 on her list….. but no, she said she wanted to do something with fashion. She also told me how her and a friend had tried to join the Navy once, but she was glad that hadn’t worked out.
My point to this memory is that even the best Mom in the world had other dreams, and it pains me to say I was too busy selfishly enjoying her motherly love to consider this till much too late.
So, do me a favor and drop me a line of either your passion or your Mothers. Let me know which is which…..If you’re blessed to still have your Mother than firstly, I’m jealous as hell and second, if you’ve never talked to your Mom about what her dreams were- invite her for a cup of tea.
I have decided to put a challenge together to jump-start some creative juices in all of us. I have a five-week plan to help us get started. I say it’s time to turn our ideas into a reality and begin to fuel these stored away passions. We will begin taking action on our passion’s with a small monetary investment of one hundred dollars. I have begun saving my change in old water bottles. I will say it’s easier not to spend when the money you are saving is in coin form. (Take this as a tip from a long time saver.) If you think you can’t get started moving your passion in the right direction with just one hundred dollars, then I especially throw down the challenge to you.
Five weeks is our timeline. Any more and we’re gonna be spinning our wheels, and any less it’s possible we won’t be able to come up with the money. One hundred dollars spread out over five weeks. I’ll bet it’s there. Not saying you might not have to pack a brown bag lunch or give up your Starbucks but it’s there. If you can’t find a way to save it- find a way to make it.
Can you dog sit or kid sit? Do you love to bake and could you put together a Facebook post asking folks to buy your cupcakes, cookies or pies? (see how I slipped pie in there) I think there may be a lawn that you could mow or a friend who needs help with chores.. whatever you can think of. Do it!
We are women who have raised kids. We have made budgets stretch further than most can imagine. We have had to be creative with how we spend and save. But here’s our chance to dig deep and do it again. This time it is not for anyone else, or anyone else’s needs and that can be an odd concept for some…myself included- but here we are and it’s time to find and follow our passion.
So what will you do with your hundred dollars? Well, that will depend if you’ve given your dream enough thought. Are you a person who loves photography but never signed up for the class offered online? What if you want to start baking and you have had your eye on some special molds you’ve secretly coveted? Do you need business cards made or fliers to promote yourself?
I started with a crude sketch of my own writing space. I haven’t had my own space for that in over twenty years. I know that having a place that is all mine for just my writing would be inspirational to me. So that is what I want. I have already bought a large picture I love of an old typewriter, and now I am building on that. I want to find an old desk to refinish and maybe even a fuzzy rug that my bare feet can curl around while I am enjoying the clicking of keys.
Let’s not over complicate this idea. Don’t get bogged down. What’s the first thing that pops in your head? Write it in sharpie, pin it on the fridge and start saving. I will be updating how my writing area progresses and I hope that in five weeks you’ve saved your money and are on your way to investing in your piece of pie.
I can recall with uncanny detail the days of 1972- Christmas time to be more accurate. I had received a fisher price boat from Santa, and man did I love that thing. A life vest that would fit a dog? What? I thought it was hilarious. I loved the ridged bounce off the diving board with the circle lip that would hold the dog until I was ready to plunge him into the bubbly water below. There were yellow deck chairs for the people of the boat to lay in and it was how I loved spending my time, in a bubble-filled tub that would get cooled off so many times my mom would have to come in repeatedly to add more hot water as my fingers became prunes.
Outside of the tub, there was coloring. Ahhh, the good old days.
Living in Illinois as a child I spent many an afternoon in the winters playing inside at the kitchen table avoiding the harsh Midwest weather. Our family table was where I could create. Our kitchen table was magical with paper, coloring books, and crayons. My Mom would wash dishes or do other kitchen chores while Elvis played for hours on the record player. The whole kitchen smelling of pine- sol and life was good.
Coloring and creating was my “thing”, and within that was the Crayola that had been given the name “Cornflower Blue”. It was my favorite. To this day I literally feel happy just thinking of that color. I loved how the slightly gray coloring pages were just rough enough that the color would come off the crayon with little effort, and oddly enough when I think back on my childhood I often think of days spent creating with this color of crayon.
As easy as it is for me to recall the past, it’s equally as easy for me to envision the future. Which brings me to this point. Your past filled with dreams and memories from it can help shape your passions. I am happy when I think of the feelings I had in that old kitchen. To this day if I am feeling low my sink at home will be filled with warm water and Pine-sol-because I want to be that kid whose Mom is still here. I want to be the carefree kid who can smell Pine-sol mixed with Cornflower Blue crayon. So as I follow through with the vision this is what I see.
The property next door to my home is empty. I can sit on my back deck with a drink in hand and visualize turning it into a retreat. There will be small cabins, just big enough for a bed and two sitting chairs. Space will be filled with Shabby chic decor and each room will be finished with a framed coloring book page that had been colored in Cornflower blue. Somewhere on a small shelf will be a few antique toys and I wouldn’t be surprised if my old friend Mr. Dog wouldn’t be standing tall wearing his life vest in at least one of these cabins. On the small front decks of each cabin I will provide seating with some flower pots, and it will be tranquil. Cornflower Blue retreat will also have animals in a small area with a tiny barn and split rail fence. Two alpaca’s named Elvis and Priscilla (shout out to my early Elvis memories) goats, and seven chickens one each that my Grandkids can pick out and name. Evenings will find guests sitting around the fire pit with drinks and s’ mores will be made. These days that I describe are as vivid to me as the day’s that I remember and they bring me joy to think about. Imagining my guests sitting under a pavilion for meals that I have prepared at my house. Evening entertainment of music and storytelling- I can picture it all.
Alpaca
I have taken this vision as far as making a business flyer- it’s very simplistic but it’s a visual reminder of a dream. It makes it all make sense. If Cornflower Blue Retreat never comes to fruition then so be it- but to me, it’s here. It’s in my mind as a dream that has come to life.
This to me shows how something as small as a childhood crayon can become a passion. Think about what makes you happy. Something as small as a crayon, when you follow it through can become an idea that is bigger than you even realized it could be.
So what was it? As a child did you love to draw, play in the grass or go on long walks with your Dad? Did you build forts, bake cupcakes or do science projects all day in the kitchen? What could that lead you to today if you thought it through?
If you were not blessed with a childhood that brought you peace and good memories than think back to where you went in your mind to escape. Did you tell yourself that when you were the adult you were going to get in a car and drive/explore? Were you going to be in a band or learn how to fly a plane? You are still here, and the good news is you are the adult now.
Here’s to taking one step today to finding what it is you want to do. Grab the fork and look for the last piece of pie. It is yours to take!
Not long ago, there was a top 10 list of things your mom never told you going around Facebook. Listed I believe in the second spot was this: “She wanted the last piece of pie.” And so it was born. This idea that I could start a blog that discusses the things in life that we moms have willingly given up for our families and how when the time is right- we can grab a fork and enjoy the last piece of pie ourselves.
The title is a nod to all those Mom’s who put themselves if not last then close to last as they raised a family. We’ve all done it. One morning you’re looking at those concert tickets that you’d love to buy, and by the afternoon your kid’s have come home with soccer sign up forms, or a note saying they need a new costume for their dance recital. The hundred dollars you’ve saved for that girls night out is quickly given up when the car decides it’s going to sputter and stall and so on and so on.
I’d like this to be a place where my storytelling can help open up others to think about some of their dreams. These dreams are allowed to be wild and far fetched. They are allowed to be whatever you want them to be. I have hopes that we can become a community that puts a little focus back on ourselves. The last piece of pie is my passion. It’s my outlet, and I hope you will find my stories and quotes and small video’s to be fun and uplifting. I intend for it to be a place of positive reflection and prompting.
My children are grown and have families of their own they are raising. I have a very blessed life. My blog is not to suggest that I should “have it all” but rather a realization that I have done what was necessary during my child-raising years, and now I am free to explore my interests…passions if you will.
I’m going to be touching on some idea’s that I’ve had for years. Job’s I’d like to try and some projects I’ve been thinking about that I hope to move off the paper and put into action. I have fallen in love with writing again, a love I have had as far back as I can remember. I had shelved this passion for years, but now is the time to enjoy Thelastpiece of pie! I’m guessing I will have some flops along the way- but I will be in pursuit of what brings me personal accomplishment and joy. There will be inspirational quotes, and both fiction and non-fiction stories. I’m throwing it all in here, like a big pot of soup I will add all I can and hope that it will appeal to you.
So now is the time. I’m looking forward to hearing from others, let’s network and see what we can do to make each other’s passions come to life. So here we go ladies, pick up a fork and finally enjoy “The last piece of pie”.
My all-time favorite movie is Field of Dreams, the whisper of the universe telling Ray that If he built it, they would come. He had every reason in the world to not build his ball field, yet at the end of the movie there it was.
Ray had family and friends who all thought he was crazy. He had his home and his livelihood on the line, and yet he couldn’t escape building the field. Along the way he had many roadblocks, things were happening to him that he couldn’t understand, things that were unexplainable yet he continued. Eventually, his passion rubs off on his wife Annie, and with the support of just one person, he is driven to continue with this plan that even he doesn’t understand.
There are many thought-provoking elements from that movie that can be taken and applied to our own lives.
What is it that you long to do that seems crazy to the others around you? How crazy are you willing to look to make your whisper a reality? Do you have that one person who will support you when others turn away?
If you recall, Ray becomes annoyed and angry when after putting so much work into the field he is told that he can not partake of all it has to offer, he is not invited into what lays beyond the outfield grass. All his work and effort he is told has a stop point. Of course he is hurt and confused by this. After all his work he feels slighted and begins to shout “What’s in it for me?”
My thoughts when watching this film, and that clip impaticular is that it’s much like raising our children. We do everything we think we need to do, working tirelessly to fulfill dreams that are not ours, and in the end we are asked to stay back out of the corn so that the dreams they have can be realized. Sad at first, we struggle. Empty nest is real and hard…. but if you can look at the fact that we are not meant to go on all the journeys life will hand our kids, if we stay behind we realize our own dreams have been waiting for the noise of the uninverse to quiet down so we can discover what else there is for us. Our passions continue long after we are asked to step back from the corn. If you’ve been looking for the universe to sent you a sign, if you’ve been waiting for your official invite to find your passion…
Well here is your invite.
Today I invite you to find your passion and listen to that whisper, start dreaming or better yet start taking steps toward enjoying your pie. It will be a journey that we go on together as I don’t have it all figured out. I have many ideas and most of them scare the heck out of me. I wonder will people think of me as they thought of Ray, am I just a bit crazy about making my visions reality.
If you follow through with my Field Of Dreams analogy, you know that at the end it wasn’t the field or Shoeless Joe or even Terrence Mann that mattered. All along the universe had been drawing Ray to his Father for a simple game of catch. It took a lot of twists and turns to get him to the point where he could have that game of catch, but he followed through with each crazy plot twist. In the end, this field that he built that others felt would be his demise, brought hundred if not thousands to the field all for their own reasons. The movie played out that way, but so did real life. It began an unexpected pilgrimage to Dyersville Iowa by many who loved the movie. I was one who made the trip to Dyersville. I have sat on the bleachers and pondered life. I’ve watched a pickup game of baseball being played by others who had also made the trip.
For years I had a plastic tube of dirt from left field on my desk, and I held on as long as I could to the ear of corn that made the trip home with me. I think most of us look to fulfilling our dreams and think that it’s complicated and just out of reach- well I myself am going to think of Ray. I am going to imagine that there will be some folks around me that think I’m crazy and think I should be satisfied and that I am putting too much emphasis on something that they can’t see the value of. But if Ray can take the farm field and turn it into a ball field so that he can make amends with his father who passed decades before what isn’t possible?
So what do ya say? “Do you want to have a catch?”
I have a lot of dreams and most have been put on hold while I raised my family, this was intentional as nothing I have ever done in life has been more important to me than the raising of my kids and having a strong marriage. But as the name of my blog implies, there is more pie- I do not have to share this pie and I certainly don’t have to give it away entirely. I can pick up a fork and partake and see what happens.
Taking inventory of my strengths and weaknesses as I go looking for my “pie”.
Among strengths: Team player, strong-willed, strong spirit, loving. I have always done what’s needed to get done. If there’s a need, I’m your girl. I thrive on need because I thrive on being needed. That last statement will no doubt show up under weaknesses as well. It’s a double edge sword that has cut me more than once.
Among Weaknesses: self-doubt, feeling less valuable in a team setting, not establishing my own boundaries for what I will and won’t accept, and let’s not forget the above mentioned… I thrive on being needed.
My husband and I have tried our hand at several different businesses over our marriage. Nearly twenty years ago we bought into a franchise system that is male-dominated. I was raised to work hard and get the job done, and although I love hard work, not a week goes by that I won’t have a male customer mention that I am kind of a fish out of water. I have two answers on standby for them, one is “In my next life I’m going to work in a bridal shop.” The second being “I have a great pot roast recipe if you’re interested.” This generally garnishes a laugh but laughter is not the point of the comment. It’s an outward expression of what I am feeling and my frustration in knowing that I am kind of a “fish out of water.” I have said for years I would love to work at a bridal shop, and I do plan one day to try my hand at that. I would like to do something completely different than what I am doing now, and nothing is more opposite than being around beautiful dresses….As for the pot roast, well I’m a pretty good cook so there’s that.
Things I know for sure: the days go slow but the years go fast. It’s not so easy to move away from what pays the bills it’s easier to stick with what you are comfortable with. I’ve worked with my husband and son in our business for over eighteen years, that wasn’t the plan but it was what I felt was right. We have recently added some real estate to our lives and I have enjoyed the creative side of promoting the property that we rent. It has taken me into a new comfort zone where I feel I am a key player.
Awhile back I posted this photo of my hands on my Facebook page. I was feeling defeated and ugly and the comments I posted with the photo reflected that. A few minutes later my brother in law said it was national “no complaints day” so I thought about that photo long and hard and put a new Facebook post up that said the following:
“These are my beat up hands. They work fine, they are strong and abused but they rarely fail me. These hands have bathed my babies, cooked a million meals for those I love- held my Grand kid’s hands and several great gin and tonics. These hands have let me scale a cliff in Costa Rica, held my sister’s hands when I thought we were being led to our slaughter and rubbed my Mom’s feet as she passed on to heaven. Thanks, hands”
Every word of that is so true. My glass was half empty when I looked at my hands that day until I realized how full my heart was.
These are the same hands that are going to lead me into all of my next adventures. Among them is figuring out a way to work at a bridal shop, turning a horse trailer into a beautiful bar, doing some party planning and who knows maybe that retreat will someday exist but for now top of mind is writing this blog. That’s a small list of a million ideas that go through my head on a daily basis. It’s the creative entrepreneur in me that can’t stop thinking of things to do. These hands will also be with me as I love my grandbabies, spend time with my husband and children and be part of every victory and defeat that is yet to come. I am grateful for these beat-up hands.
In high school, some kids were voted best dressed, class clown, most talented… but if there had been a category “Most likely to marry and have kids” I would have won hands down. There was plenty of conversation revolving around the fact that I always saw myself getting married and having a family. The idea of this seemed crazy to classmates who were going to college or seeking out worldly adventures, their goals and mine held no similarities. I think their judgement was supposed to be a moment where kids with bigger dreams could chuckle and feel momentarily superior. Somehow, despite the connotations, I always prayed they were right. Then fate stepped in, and a friend named Alison threw a spring break party where I met a feather-haired, gold chain wearing dream. Four months later at the age of seventeen, I was engaged to be married. I was one step closer to fulfilling the tongue in cheek vision that my classmates had jokingly laid out before me.
Fast forward thirty four years.
I find that hard to even type as the passing of time has always put a lump in my throat, I’m honestly typing through teary eyes. Thirty- four years since a high school party changed the trajectory of my life forever. I was blessed when a year later at age eighteen I got married. I relished in the role of wife and years later with the birth of our son I became a mother. Our daughter followed two and half years later. It will go down as my greatest accomplishment that my kids felt loved and secure growing up, and although we didn’t always have what others had they enjoyed their childhood. It would be honest to say the only one who enjoyed it more than them-was me. I can tell you without doubt or any uncertainty that I was born to be a Mother. This didn’t make me the worlds best, but oh how I tried. While the other mom’s sat at the picnic tables at the park, I played…hard. I played with my kids, and soon we would have all the kids at the park joining in. I would cackle “I’ll get you my pretty” like the wicked witch from The Wizard of Oz and run like a wild woman tagging screaming children. I loved it beyond measure and I miss those days.
Then, one day I realize life has been happening. I think I was so busy enjoying my kid’s life with them that I didn’t make that separation as to my own life and my happiness outside of them. If left alone to my own devices, which I always hated, I was lonely and bored. Often I would have no idea how to fill my time. There were times I became envious of the women who could put themselves first and follow other passions. I didn’t know how. I truly had never allowed myself to do that. So while I made sure my family enjoyed all the “pie” I sat back joyfully taking credit for their happiness, such a silly idea now that I am older and wiser. While I was glad to see them all following their passion I was blindly losing site of what would fill my days. My “someday” was always another day, week or year away. I ended up kicking my “someday” further down the road.
Well, folks, I’ve come to a fork in the road. I want to kick the rock in both directions and see what I find. I want to start trying out interests that I’ve shelved for years and find out where I go. I have viewed this blog as sort of a rebirth of a writing passion I have had my whole life. It is certainly at the top of the “pursue your passion” list. I can’t tell you with certainty that I know where I am headed with this. I hope to have others join this will hopefully be a place for feel support and inspiration. I have also concluded that even if another person never reads my words, I will have done something just for myself. Selfish enjoyment, which has been a long time coming.
I hope that you start thinking about your own passions and desires that you’ve shelved. I hope when you’re done with raising babies or building that career or whatever else has been occupying your time that you grab a fork and dig into that last piece of pie!
