Flowers for the Dead

Wading through the sea of people buying flowers for the dead, I'm struck by the oddity. Life revolves around the needs and wants of other people. We spend our lives trying to meet our own needs, trying to satisfy our desires, and often using other people to do so. Sometimes we spend our lives trying to meet the needs of others, or satisfy their desires. And when they die, we buy flowers in memory of their death.

I don't want flowers in death. I think flowers are beautiful. I think they bring happiness to certain people. However, what would be the purpose of putting them on my grave? I'm not there to enjoy them. I've spent most of my life trying to give what I could give to people to make their lives better. I've focused on helping others to an extent that has sometimes hurt me a great deal. Memorial day is the day we have chosen to honor the dead. What does that have to do with flowers? Wouldn't it be more honor to my memory when I am gone to do something for someone else in respect for what I have done with my life?

Pick someone who is having a hard time and buy them a week's worth of groceries. Find someone who can't pay the phone bill this month and pay it for them. Go to a nursing home, and sit with the people who never get visitors. Buy fresh flowers for someone who is depressed and sit and listen to them talk for a while. Give me a memorial I would appreciate.

I know that if my grandmother were alive... either one, really, they would both tell me to put the money that I would be spending on the flowers toward the bills that I need to pay to have a better life. Instead of decorating my niece's grave, I buy presents for living children.

Remember my life, not my death. Remember that I gave to other people when I had nothing. Remember that I would not have wanted you to go without when I had something I could give. Put the money in a college fund for children who would not be able to go. Maybe if enough of you get together you can arrange for someone to go who wouldn't be able to without you.

Just don't buy flowers for the dead.

I stood in an invisible two foot bubble surrounded by my family today. They were all hugging and comforting one another as I stood in the middle and touched no one. I was sharply reminded of the new "Consider" system in EverQuest. When I click on a monster in the game to target it a colored ring appears around it. The color indicates the level of difficulty in relation to my level. After targeting you can hit the letter "C" to see how the mob feels about you... It ranges from "Scowls at you ready to attack" to "regards you as an ally."

I began to wonder who in the room understood that I regarded them indifferently.

Yesterday,at work, I wrote about 2 pages worth of a post. However, I was so tired last night that I didn't manage to get it posted.

My grandma died Tuesday morning. It was very sudden and I don't know how I feel about all of it right now. She donated her body to science, so I found out about 3:45 and was on my way to the visitation by 5.

I don't know. It's very surreal right now.

Learning to Cry

The years between 18 and 23 seem to be the years we learn who we are. I don't know if it's the same for men, but for me and for many of the women I know it was a time for tears and rollercoaster emotions. I realize that much of life was that way, but it seems that at that point there were more chances to cry--more issues to face, and more tears than my body could possibly hold.

Tears are cleansing. Throughout this post I will refer to the way most women use tears, so, it may seem a bit biased, but I can't speak for men. Women use tears for many reasons, but one of the most profound is for cleansing. Often we have emotions that do not come out in any other way. What do we do with extra pain? The odd reaction in our bodies is that it comes out in a saline solution from the uppermost orifices. How that reaction works, I'm not sure, but somehow the salt pouring out of our eyes bypasses the wounds and they do not sting as much. When we are just learning who we are, we seem to cry even more. The tears pour and we often wonder HOW our bodies can hold that much fluid at a time, because clearly we didn't drink THAT much water today.

But it's part of learning... It's part of growing, and eventually we learn that crying does help, but there is a point when it will stop. We learn that we do need the tears at times to help cleanse the pain, but that we will be able to face things on our own without them sometimes. We learn that just because someone is yelling at us, or angry at us, or doesn't like us, or is just in general being an ass doesn't mean that we need to let it hurt us to the point of tears. And we learn that sometimes we can't control them. Sometimes, they are just going to fall. Sometimes our bodies know best and it knows when we need to cry.

Women often don't trust their bodies. They don't eat when the body says to eat, or they eat when the body doesn't need to eat, or they refuse the foods that the body needs. We work when the body says it is tired. We sit when it says it needs to move. Part of learning ourselves is learning to accept and approve what our bodies are telling us.

Sometimes our bodies tell us to cry.

Self-doubt inflicts its pain on us all at some point. The key is to try not to whine about it. This is me not succeeding in that endeavor:

I wish to be better at remembering things...

List of things that I forgot to do today:

1. Deposit pay check
2. Pay phone bill
3. Pay Utility bill
4. something I was going to get at the store that I needed earlier, but I don't know what it is now
5. Bring food home from work
6. (last night actually) put milk in the refrigerator after buying it.
7. Other miscellaneous things that are important, but that I can't remember at the moment.

Sometimes I realize that writing is a necessary part of my life, but unfortunately, so is working and I can't seem to get both done at once. Work interferes and controls all parts of my brain. Everyting melds together in a whirlpool rush and I wake up every Saturday morning watching all of it go down the drain as I prepare for the 10 hour hell of a floral shop. Cleaning out the coolers, listening to people complain. Hearing everything that everyone says so succinctly and then forgetting the importance and the ramifications of it. All food for the pen gone the way of the left out milk.

Let the whining begin!!

My kitchen is a mess. Everything in it is dirty and has been since Friday night. I haven't cleaned a damn thing and I don't want to. I cooked a huge dinner for some people who were held captive vigil at the hospital. I'm glad I did it, but /sigh what a wreck to clean up. It makes me remember why I hate to cook.

Here comes Mother's Day. The second busiest day of the year and it's just about upon us. Thus far, the manager is grouchy, the owner is grouchy, the employees haven't been given much intstruction as to what we should be doing and no one really knows what is going on. So, it's not shaping up to be a very happy holiday. I am hoping that soon, I shall find a new job and not have to worry about it.

That's pretty much all I have to say right now. It's just been a rough week.