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shawnjacksonsbs · 5 years

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Ohana means Fam*ily 8-4-19

"Memory believes before knowing remembers." - William Faulkner Nostalgia is defined as; a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations. The nostalgia associated with positive things, positive times, and of course loved ones in some form or fashion is what it means to me. I know I've talked about this, maybe a couple of times over the last few year in here, but . . . nostalgia is a fickle thing. From anxiety that leads to the inevitable sad pain to, where I am now in my life, where that pain takes a lesser stress on my heart because I can feel the warmth, love, and joy that are attached to positive memories more than the negative emotions associated with the longing. Some long-ago childhood memories, like being out at my grandparents old farmhouse surrounded by my momma and my aunts in a room filled with love, to memories from just a year or so ago with my Washington family, for which I have been missing a lot lately, and all those positives in between, I keep them all safely tucked away in a huge pocket inside my heart. They can do more than make me cry these days. Because of my mental and emotional growth, the sad parts of remembering are at about 15% while the other 85% is remembering and re-feeling the love and the laughter shared with me by many, to only bringing a smile to my face. I'm at that point in life where I finally feel like I shouldn't want to trade what lies ahead in my future, to travel back just to re-live those good times of years gone by. Albeit I wouldn't mind a vacation day or two just to spend a little time with loved ones who have passed away, but that's not quite the same as the longing, of wanting to be back in those different times, different places, sharing in those memories of people I care about. With a few extreme, (we'll call them fluctuations), in our water and electric bills, and some other financial hiccups, I almost missed out on a pretty good evening, because I felt like I needed to build up that safety net in the bank, that has been on a slow decline the last couple of months with everything going on with us here. I am so glad I wised up and went to "Puddle Jumper Days" street fair in Odessa. I got to spend the evening with most of my kids, all of my grandkids, and even got to see my momma and stepdad briefly. The grandkids had a blast. It was totally worth it. I have to remember that 90% of why I moved back here was so I don't have to miss out on times like that. I work my fucking ass off so that I shouldn't ever feel like we're lacking. Plus I'll make up a delivery shift today. Balance is the key. It's not all about money, but it is about just enough money to not miss out on much if anything that equates to spending time with my family, like what we did last night. Within the first three minutes of all of us still in the parking lot, I was already grateful that I was there, as my youngest granddaughter and my grandson hugged each other and walked hand-in-hand toward the fair. It was adorable and made it all worth it. It won't ever come to us being short on bill money, but should it, should our finances suffer slightly because I traded up for times like this, then so be it. It's my whole reason why. And just like Stitch says "This is my family. I found it, all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good." It's why I will never give up on my boys who are still lost. I wear hope like a tattered raincoat in a hurricane. Because when they are ready, I will be too, so that "No one gets left behind". Robert Fulghum said, "I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death." Although some of that sounds off like myth is more potent than history, the truth of it makes it cool. It is truer only if you believe it is like laughter is the only cure for grief and love is stronger than death. Its probably closer to true than you realize actually. The human mind is a super machine and can fool people into believing nonsense, but it can also trick you into letting a placebo heal your illnesses. Most of you already know that I don't believe in god. Definitely not the way most of you do. It's ok that you do. I get it. I really do. Being ok with those who do really should be just as easy as getting along with those who don't. It can be difficult at times, because sometimes, just sometimes conversations with believers end up being more about them feeling sorry for me. To me this is completely ridiculous. Believe me if you feel this way, your pity is misplaced. I've come to realize lately though, that in their own "believers" way, it's because they care about me. Coexisting seems to be on my mind more and more as I continue to live in a pretty Christian part of the country. I am trying harder and harder to eradicate what little bit of hate may be floating around in the peripheral bottom of my heart. I have to strive just as hard to feel the love for all that I try to outwardly show always. It loses a little something if I am not complete with it too. Sincerity is my teacher. Plus, hate has a tendency to distort. It used to be obvious with the way I used to live, and abundantly clear in varying degrees as I see first hand little pieces of hate from people I know, and loved ones on social media that truly don't understand that it's in some of their actions as well. Anyways, hating on haters is still hate and I need it out of my heart, no matter how small an amount it may be. Cant preach tolerance if I feel intolerant toward the intolerant, not and have people take me seriously. There is always a slight tearing that happens almost continuously in my heart, from constantly wanting to help the less fortunate, the broken, the damned, the damaged, and discriminated against and just trying to steer my life away from the hate and fear and ignorance, which seems to be a more and more prevalent issue these last few years. I think I have known more damaged and broken people in my life than those who have never suffered a harsh reality, from my own family to most of my friends. It's definitely an easy avenue in which to relate to others, once you start to heal yourself. They are my people. Remember to share the love and the laughter with the world around you. Be kind to one another as you walk through your days, and try harder to be civil and tolerant towards those who make it too difficult to be kind, just as I plan to do my best at too. Until next week; "How we walk with the broken speaks louder than how we sit with the great." - Bill Bennot

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