Who I am and why I blog

After starting this blog nearly two years ago, I doubt that anything I've written answers any of those questions.    With my little Ordinary Life, I can't believe I have even one reader outside of my immediate family who are forced to read occasionally.

Anyway, since there are a handful of people who have happened upon my blog since I first started ( and the fact that I'm too lazy to write something interesting tonight), I'm reposting my very first post that explains just how ordinary a life I have thoroughly enjoyed. 


Dateline February 27, 2009:

I have an ordinary life. I can't say that I have tried to save the world or even one person. I have never made an impact on my country, my state, my town, not even my school when I was a kid.

Last year I attended a Women's Retreat in Indianapolis at a church. I will not say most of the things that happened there, because the beauty of the retreat was not knowing what to expect and when. But it made me look at my life a little differently.

My closest friend and I email several times a week, sometimes several times a day our thoughts, our lives, our funny stories, our sad times, our fears, things we would never tell anyone else because someone who doesn't know us as well might think we're boasting, whining, silly, etc.

In preparation for this weekend retreat I was emailing my friend about how little I had done with my life. I had not spent alot of time helping others. I wanted to, but it seems I'm always too busy. I was comparing myself to a lady that I've met who started a girls rescue house (Rapha House) in Cambodia. Stephanie Freed is an ordinary housewife who believed she could make a difference on the other side of the world and she is, one rescued girl at a time. You will see the blog link on my list of those I follow.

What have I done? Who have I helped? Without ever having kids of my own, how could I ever feel like I will be leaving a legacy?

As I told my friend, in a half joking email. My life has been rather.......pointless.

Of course she took exception to that and it wasn't until later that I realized that what I had just said to her was an insult.

She began working for me when she was 20 years old. She's now about to turn 38. I left that company 12 years ago and we continue to be as close as family. She needed the closeness of a mother and I needed the closeness of a daughter. We have seen each other through good times and bad times, never wavering from our friendship. If she had told me her life was pointless, even jokingly , I would have ripped her a new one for ignoring her importance in my life.

While I was really kidding about my life being pointless, I realized later that the word carries a certain connotation about the other people in my life. She, among many others is very important in my life and I know that I am very important in other people's lives. So then, how can my life be pointless? In fact, those words are an insult to virtually everyone I know and love.

I may not ever get to change things in the world, my state or even my block, but I have to be honest with myself and believe that I mean something to people like my friend. I've been blessed with a very close, tight-knit family that would be there for me, no questions asked. Again, saying my life is pointless is an insult to them and our relationship.

Nearly two years ago I ended up with some two separate fairly serious health issues that landed me in St. Francis Critical Care for 4 days and then, unrelated major surgery 6 weeks later at Community North (having compared to the two, I would advise NEVER go to Community). My 5 year-old grandson came to see me at both hospitals.

Now you have to understand, our grandson is ALL about his Papaw. I had always been an afterthought when Papaw would get busy doing something else. In Community Hospital (another 4 days) after my surgery, Papaw found he did not want to spend another weekend by himself so he asked to pick up our grandson for Saturday night. On the way home, they came to see me in the hospital.

Sunday morning my husband called me and said that our grandson had said he wanted to come see me again before he went back home. There wasn't time, but my husband said he could call me. Normally my grandson would only have one or two words to say to me on a phone call, but he talked to me for 20 minutes. It dawned on me that the previous night had been the first time he had stayed at our house without me being there. He was used to always counting on me listening to him if Papaw got too sidetracked.

A couple months later we were in the car taking him to our house to play. He blurted out of the blue, "Mamaw, I sure hope you don't have to go back to the hospital again." I was shocked by his words, I had made sure I didn't bring up my temporary health issues around him and the last hospital stay was two months prior. We had noticed that since then he would stick close to me, sitting on my lap (which hurt after surgery, but I wasn't going to complain), following me around, asking me how I was feeling, letting me snuggle him more often.

So after his comment about the hospital, it dawned on me that he had continued to question me about how I was ever since he visited me the last hospital stay. I realized then that I needed to calm his fears. He was obviously concerned and quite frankly, I was shocked by that. Neither of my hospital stays were related to each other, however both were fairly serious at the time, but nothing permanent. His continued questioning made me realize that, even at 5, he was concerned that I was really sick.

I explained to him that I was fine and I wouldn't have to go back into the hospital. Then he wanted to know why I had surgery. I thought it best not to explain a complete hysterectomy to a 5 year old, so I told him I had an "extra part" they needed to remove. He wanted to know if it would grow back. I smiled and assured him it would not.

Then he asked, "What would have happened if you hadn't had the surgery." At that time, I realized that I needed to come straight to the point.

I turned around and looked him straight in the eye and said, "I would NOT have died." And that was it. He never asked me again about the hospitals or the surgery. I think he just wanted reassurance that I was ok and he wasn't going to lose me.

Now someone explain to me how I could have said my life was pointless, even if I was half-joking?

So I have an ordinary life. I'm good with that. While I can continue to hope that I will help to make the world better, it reality there are alot of family and friends that would be upset at me for saying that my life is pointless.

No one's is.

And that very statement selfishly ignores those of us around us who loves us and counts on us.

I'm sorry I ever said it. Ordinary isn't pointless.