Tag Archives: relationships

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It Will Never Be The Same Again…

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As many of you know, my Mother passed away in February – that means that this weekend holds a holiday that I have never experienced without my Mother. So, here’s the story for this week…

Two weeks ago I had to go grocery shopping. We were just about to head to the checkout, when I remembered that I needed just one more item. I rushed back to the area where I thought the item could be found, and turned down an aisle to get there a little faster. As soon as I started walking a few feet into the aisle, I realized that I had made a mistake. I had unknowingly turned down the greeting card aisle, and plastered everywhere were Mother’s Day cards. In an instant my eyes were filling with tears as I realized that this year I would not be buying a Mother’s Day card, nor would I be making the trip to spend the weekend with her in celebration. I left the aisle as quickly as I possibly could, and tried not to think about what I had just seen, and what it meant for me.

I will be honest…I have struggled with this loss, just as I struggled with her disease process. I have the skills, expertise and ability to train healthcare professionals in these areas, but I have been rather inept in helping myself. I have a very dear friend, who has watched this struggle of mine. She finally asked me, “Cat, just what are you thinking and feeling? What are you hoping for? What are you looking for?” And I tried to verbalize…I said, “I don’t feel Mother’s presence. In my mind, I just assumed, because we were so close, that when she died…I would feel her presence ‘with me’ constantly. That has not happened, and I don’t know what to do.” As soon as I expressed those thoughts, she said, “Cat, she is with you every day…she is in your heart…she is in your mind…she is living inside you.” And now comes the best part…she said, “All you have to do to ‘feel her’ is continue being the person that she wanted you to be.” And just like that, I felt a peace that I had not felt since Mama’s death. You see, I realized that this is something I could do! I can be the person she raised and was proud of…I can emulate the character, integrity and Christ-like traits that she taught by living example. You see, I simply do NOT know how else to be, but who I am…who she made…and who she loved.  I AM my Mother’s child!

For those of you whose mothers are still living…MAKE the time and effort to visit with them, make memories with them, enjoy them, just “be” with them…for one day, they absolutely will be gone from your life…and it will never be the same again. For those of you whose mothers are no longer living, do what I am doing…let’s live the lives that our Mamas taught us to live…strong in faith, compassion, loyalty and love…and ALWAYS doing for others. BE the person that “Mama” would have you be. Won’t you join me? Just for this week….

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What Do You Mean….You “Can’t Find It”???

Well, it’s a new month…May! That means I have been writing this blog for four months already. Hard to believe! I started this blog in hopes that it would help me deal with the overwhelming sadness I felt over my Mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s and resulting death. Writing the weekly stories has helped me more than I can say, and I hope that all my visitors and followers have received some sense of solace, comfort, or inspiration, as well as a laugh or two…Since May is pretty much known as the “graduation” month, this week’s story will have to address that particular topic. So, we begin…

I graduated from high school in 1970. Now before you get out your calculator to figure out my age, I need to let you know that I was a child prodigy and five years old at the time…It was a time of social unrest and “upheaval” in our little town (as the media played it up to be). 1970 was the first year of mandated integration, and both the “white” and “black” high schools had been merged that year. The graduating class of 1970 was so large that it was moved from the usual venue of our high school auditorium to that of the football stadium. (Just as an aside, I would like to comment that on the first day of school that year, they had called in the National Guard, Highway Patrol Troopers, and various other “police” organizations, to make certain that we students would be “orderly” on that historic event – the “joining,” if you will, of two diverse high schools. I think we surprised the nation in that there were NO horrible events like some other cities and states, not in the South, such as riots and bus burnings. We simply went to school that day, and each day thereafter. I just wanted that down for the record….)

While growing up, my parents never put any pressure on me to be an “A” student. They had instilled such a desire in me for success, that I applied more pressure on myself than they ever did. As luck would have it, I had a “natural” ability to learn, so studying was never too difficult for me. Bringing home a “B” was very rare, and when that did happen, I was more upset than my folks.

Upon graduation, if a student had attained a certain grade point average for the entire four years of high school, they were given a designation of graduating “With Distinction.” The student did not know if they had attained that accomplishment until the night of graduation, when their name was called to receive the diploma. Although my Mother had NEVER said a word about this, I knew, deep in my heart, that she wanted to hear my name, graduating “With Distinction.” I was so nervous that night! We had practiced earlier in the day at the football stadium. We would approach the stage, row by row, and as they called our name, we would walk across, place one hand over the other to shake the Board of Education President’s hand, while receiving our diploma with the other hand…pause…look at the camera for the official photograph, and walk off the stage.

I was almost hyperventilating as I stepped closer and closer to the stage. I was praying the whole time, “Please, Dear God, I don’t think I have really asked for a lot in my life, but could you please let me graduate “with distinction?” I made it up the stairs, knowing that my name would be next. And then I heard…”Catherine Rebecca Selman, With Distinction!” I almost exploded with joy, so proud that this was something I had given to my parents. I hastily walked across the stage, where the Board of Education President stood. I shook his hand, and reached for my diploma…therein was the problem. They could NOT find my diploma! I stood there for the longest time with my hand out, waiting patiently for anyone to put that coveted document in my hand. I finally put my hand down by my side, kept the biggest smile on my face, and under my breath asked, “Do you want me to just walk on to the other side until you find it?” By this time, ALL of the officials of the Board of Education were frantically searching for my diploma. The President said, “No, just wait right here. We WILL find it!” The stadium was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. You could just feel the pity pouring out from everyone in the audience. I’m standing there and realize that at any moment, I am about to burst into maniacal laughter, thinking, “if this just doesn’t take the cake…here I have worked so hard to graduate with distinction, and they cannot even find me a diploma!” The absurdity of the situation was just about to get the best of me, and I could no longer abide the audiences’ pity and concern. So realizing that I was about to “lose it,” I turned to my class, lifted my hands in a questioning manner, and shrugged my shoulders…as if to say, “what’s a girl to do?” When I did that, the entire audience burst into the laughter that was bubbling up inside me. We all had a good laugh!

As we were laughing, and still watching the Board feverishly search for my diploma, the young lady who had received her diploma before me, came back over and gave them “her” diploma…which turned out to actually be mine. They had given her my diploma by mistake. She was so upset and crying…and I was thinking, “why are you crying?…at least you GOT a diploma…it was mine, but at least you got one…” They finally awarded me the “lost” diploma, I shook hands again, smiled for the photographer, and got a standing ovation…Later, so many people told me that “if it had to happen to anyone, we’re glad it was you!” I had no idea how many times I would hear that, and similar statements, throughout the rest of my life. 

I actually teach individuals how to develop “humor skills.” The first skill is the “ability to see the absurdity of your situation.” My philosophy is that there is not much that you can’t recover from if you possess the appropriate life skills…and humor is definitely one of those skills. So my advice to all graduates this month, is to see the humor in life, the absurdity of your situations, and know that you can, and will persevere and succeed. The choices are all up to you…you can control the direction of your life. I am no longer that “child prodigy,” but I continue to practice those life skills that have served me so well. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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It’s Dangerous in There!!!

When my little niece (Elizabeth, who has now become a lovely lady with children of her own) was learning how to use the potty, it was a nightmare for her. She would get so upset when “the time” would come, and she did NOT want to go to the bathroom. My brother finally asked her why she got so upset when she needed to go potty. She looked up at him, with those big, beautiful, blue eyes, and said, “Dad, it’s DANGEROUS in there!” We all got a good laugh at that, and eventually, she got the hang of it and overcame her fear of the bathroom. So here is this week’s story…

I was on a business trip with a friend and we had quite a layover in one of the major airports. Not wanting to “just sit,” we had walked over the entire length of the airport two or three times (several miles it seemed…); had eaten as much food as we could possibly hold; and had “window-shopped” as much as we could. (Neither one of us are much on shopping to begin with….) It got a little closer to the time for us to board the plane, and I thought that maybe I should visit the restroom one more time before getting on the next flight. I asked my friend if she would mind watching my stuff, and off to the restroom I went.

Now, airport bathrooms have changed over the years, and the “improvements” that have been made are always a “challenge,” depending on which airport you are in. The first improvement involved providing different seat heights for the toilets….some sit tall, some are short, some are in-between. There’s nothing more comforting than to rush into a cubicle, thinking the seat is at a certain height, and realize (when you hit the seat a little harder than anticipated) that you picked a cubicle with a “short” toilet. Then came the plastic rotating seat covers…did you rotate the plastic before you sat down…after you sat down…where was the button to initiate said rotation…and HOW would I know if they were just not recycling the same piece of plastic over and over to save money…I came up with a solution for that problem: mark an “x” on the plastic seat, press the button to rotate the seat cover, and look to see if your “x” came around again. (Now before you think that I have lost my mind and have a germ phobia, let’s look at this rationally…have you SEEN the people who fly on planes nowadays???? I need not say more…) Then came the paper seat covers. Great idea, I thought! So, I got the seat cover in place, turned around, unzipped my pants, and just as I was about to make contact with the seat….SWOOOOSH!! The toilet had automatically flushed itself and I no longer had a paper armor against the germs of society (the flush took my paper seat cover with it…). I stood up and tried to figure out how to “outwit” the toilet…So, this is what I did: I unzipped my pants, assumed the position and got ready to make contact. At the last minute, I slipped the toilet seat cover into place, and hurriedly sat down before the toilet flushed. SUCCESS!!!

Now that I had conquered the challenges within the cubicle, I was ready to face the remaining few…the automatic soap dispenser, the automatic water dispenser, and the automatic hand-drying options…Now, you need to know up front that there is something really goofy with my body (no snide remarks from those who know me really well…). Apparently, I do not have within my chromosomes the exact chemistry that will respond to, or activate, any type of “automatic” dispenser. It is indeed an effort to get anything to work for me, and I usually end up having to make numerous attempts at different sinks. I went to the first soap dispenser….no matter what I did, what motion I performed with my hands….no  soap. So I went to the next sink…same thing…a lot of motion and activity on my part, but still no soap. (Please understand that I have to complete this same exercise in EVERY airport bathroom that I visit…) I moved on to the next sink with even MORE enthusiastic motion and play of my hands…STILL no soap. I moved to the final sink. That was when disaster struck…the soap dispenser not only worked, but it was a super sonic dispenser! The flow of soap squirted out, shot completely OVER the sink, and landed directly on the front of my pants! I looked down and all I saw was a great big wad of white soap beginning to ooze slowly down the front of my pants. Of course, I panicked and thought, “get some paper towels, and DO IT NOW!” (I did mention that the paper towel dispenser was “automatic” also; didn’t I?) I waved my hands across the sensor. It did nothing! I tried two hands, wildly motioning in the senseless attempt to just activate it. STILL…nothing!!! I went to another dispenser…nothing. I was wild by this time because the soap had spread on my pants down to the crotch area. I began dancing and moving my body all different ways in front of the sensor to JUST GET SOME PAPER TOWELS!! By this time, I had drawn a crowd, who could not figure out if I was having a seizure of some sort, or that I was just a really weird air traveler. In a way of explanation to my “audience,” I was uttering under my breath as I was dancing…”soap”…”flew out of dispenser”…”on my pants”…”got to get it off”…”doesn’t work for me.” I finally realized that I was not ever going to get a paper towel, so I ran back into a cubicle to get some toilet paper. Wiping rapidly, I attempted to remove the gummy soap from my pants. The toilet tissue, being dry, began rolling into little balls and STICKING to the soap that was STICKING to my pants. It was time to wet the paper towel and see if that would help.  Guess what? The water dispenser was “automatic” also….On the fourth attempt, at the fourth sink, the water began to flow. Others began to help me. THEY were able to get some paper towels, and we made a valiant effort to remove all of the particles that had become a permanent part of my pants. Everyone, including me, eventually accepted defeat and gave up! As I was leaving, I noticed a woman having a little difficulty of her own in getting the paper towel dispenser to work. I leaned over and confidentially whispered, “you have to dance!”

I finally came out of the bathroom and headed in the direction of my friend. She took one good look at me, and those soap-gummed pants, and asked “What happened to you???” I just looked at her and said, “The bathroom has become a very dangerous place….”

There are people in our lives who have fears, whether actual or perceived. At times, we may dismiss those fears as being “silly” or unfounded simply because they are not our fears. As a result, we are not compassionate, patient, or understanding. I am going to be more understanding and tolerant of those who express concern or fear over events, tasks or actions that they face. I am going to provide the necessary support to assist them in facing their fear, and let them know that they are not alone…that I am there with them. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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Are You a Member of the Good Words Club???

I have been so blessed in my life! I have an abundance of family and friends who love me completely and fully – warts and all…Throughout the years, my best friend’s family members have become my family also…”friend-in-laws,” if you will…I was around when her little sister was born, and got to be with this little one, watching her as she grew up to be a wonderful young lady…a college student…a wife…and finally, a mother! Of all the words that I could use to describe her, the one most “fitting” would be “mother.” Some people are not meant to become a parent, but oh my, she was simply designed for, and made to fill, this role.

When the long-awaited time came, she gave birth to a little girl, Adison. The new parents had very clear thoughts on “do’s and don’ts” for this precious child…One of the “don’ts” dealt with “appropriate” language that should be used when the toddler was in “hearing” distance. So, that’s the background…we will now go to the story…

First, you need to know that I do not use curse words…EVER! I feel that there are so many better ways to express one’s feelings without the usage of “those” words. You also need to know that my friend’s grandmother was almost a saint, and if you “slipped up” occasionally, and happened to use a “curse word,” she would very sweetly ask, “Don’t you want to be a member of the Good Words Club?” And of course, at that very moment, you do wish that you had been a member of the Good Words Club….

When Adison was three, her parents bought a brand new house. We were so excited for them, and for days had helped them move and get settled in. Since I am a pretty good “handy” person, I was given the job installing all of the window blinds. We had measured each window and Home Depot had cut the blinds to our exact specifications. As I was installing the blinds, “little one” was right with me, wanting to do whatever I was doing. I had to provide her with a little screw driver, show her how to use it, and she would hold the rule as I measured each window to match it with the correct set of blinds.

We got to a window, and no matter what I did, the blinds just would not fit. I kept going back and forth from one room to another, one window to another, trying to figure out if I had used the wrong blind on one of the windows. In doing this, my little helper became distracted and I ended up in a room by myself. By this time, I was tired and aggravated, in that I could NOT figure out why the blind would not fit. FINALLY, I thought to myself, why not remeasure the blinds and determine if they are the right size? As I did this, I was standing high on a step-ladder. In a moment of absolute clarity, I realized that the blinds had been cut wrong!! All this time I had been trying to “fit” the blinds to the window, and had just realized that they would never fit ANY window.  As the full realization hit me, I said, “Dadgumit!!” As soon as I said that word, I heard this tiny, soft voice repeat, “Dadgumit!!” Little one had eased up behind me and was standing on the first rung of the step-ladder…

My heart started beating faster, and I became more anxious, thinking, “OH NO!!! You have just taught her a curse word!!! That is expressly forbidden!!” I jumped off the ladder, grabbed her up in my arms, and ran into the living room to confess my sin to the parents. Fortunately, for me, they did not think that I had “damaged” the child too badly, and there was a lot of discussion as to whether what I said was even a curse word! But here is the bottom line…those little ones watch everything you say, everything you do, and will usually mimic it and make it a part of their own lives. What are you saying in front of impressionable children? Are you teaching them “good words” and “good acts?” Don’t you want to be a member of the Good Words Club? Just for this week…

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He doesn’t HAVE to love you…

Many of you know that I lost my Mama last month, so “family” has been a lot on my mind. Of course, during that difficult time, our immediate family was together for several weeks. It had been a long time since we had spent an extended length of time together. And while it was a sad time, we truly enjoyed being with each other. Most of my “stories” have come from lessons that I was taught by both of my parents; however, this week’s article is another life lesson that my Mama taught me when I became a teenager.

My mother’s parents (my Mamaw & Papaw) were given a gift late in their life and marriage – a baby boy!! When he was born, he was already an uncle to quite a few nieces and nephews…me being one of them. Although he was just a few years younger than me, we grew up as brother and sister. I cannot remember a time, that I did not have my arm around him, loving on him, and ALWAYS taking care of him. We were constantly together and definitely “two peas in a pod.” I adored him…and the feeling was very mutual – he adored me also. We grew up together, playing and enjoying childhood as it was meant to be enjoyed! However, as I grew older, I matured a little faster than him…and began wanting to do more “adult” activity than childish activity. He would continue to come over to our house every day, but I began ignoring him…never having any time for him.

My Mama had been observing the changing dynamics of our relationship, and finally, one afternoon after I had finally gotten him to go home and leave me alone, she sat me down and talked to me very lovingly. She explained that just because he was family, did NOT mean that he had to, or would always, love me and want to be around me. Just hearing her say those words struck fear in my little heart. I could not imagine a world with him not loving me. She explained that she understood that I was “growing up,” and changing, but that he would also eventually go through that transition. She explained that how I treated him NOW, would certainly impact how I would be treated later on. She also told me that I was hurting him.

I GOT the message! I began treating him much better, making time for him, and letting him know that I loved him, and maybe even more importantly, I wanted him to keep loving me. I realized, from this young age, that all relationships need tender caring love…nurturing…cultivation…consideration…respect…EVEN if they are your blood relatives!!! See, they don’t HAVE to love you…you STILL have to earn that love and respect. Why is it that we sometimes give perfect strangers more respect, more attention, more consideration, than we give a family member? So, this week I am going to concentrate on letting my family members know just how much I love them, how much I need them, how much I LIKE them, how much I enjoy them…and that I want them in my life! Won’t you join me? Just for this week…