Well actually it is me. There is the strange me. How about the quiet me. That one I am mostly. Oh don’t forget about the creative me. There is the sad me. Or happy me depending on the day. Maybe the good friend. I am a sister. Or I am also a daughter. There is the wife and a mother. I can be the caregiver or the person who does not give a shit. I am a hugger, but sometimes I just don’t want to be touched. I watch hallmark movies and then think at the end why the kiss at the end? You can never live happily ever after so what was the point? I am a collector of many things, well most of it being junk and dust collectors. Love animals to no end and would have a house full of them if I had the chance, but someone else put their foot down on that. I fill many shoes in my life. Also my closet of shoes and clothes I don’t wear.
Well I just made this list to really try and figure something out. Who am I really? I am 62 years old and still have not figured myself out. I think no one else who is around me has not really figured out who I am either. I am a mystery to most and myself. There is that point where you should at least be able to figure yourself out. I seem to grow in some ways and in others I seem to regress back into where I was before. My life does not make any sense to me. This befogals me to no end. Hmm befogaled is that even a word. But it is appropriate.
You see many, many, many, did I say many. Yeah those many years ago aunts and uncles, teachers and other adults would ask what are you going to be when you grow up. To me I had not a clue. Now 60 some years later I am asking myself did I ever have any ambition to want to be anything in life. I did love to dress up. Put on pretty clothes and pretend to be someone that I was not. Then I would look in the mirror and say what’s the point. The biggest thing I think I wanted was to be excepted. To be liked by people. To have friendships I could count on. Beyond that I had no clue of what I wanted in life.
So those many years ago I was at a loss. Thing change over the years and I just go with the flow with whatever is happening.
I grew up on a hundred and fifty acre dairy farm in southern Ontario. I admired my father to no end. He was a hard working man who raised a family of five on that farm. My fondest memories where of hanging out in the barn with him and helping him feed the calves. Or with my oldest brother while he milked the cows and would once in while grab a tittie and sprayed milk at the cats hanging around me. They would scamper away from me to lick up the milk. Yeah a cat lover I was. Tamed all the farm cats to dads dismay. They where not much of mousers after I get hold of them.
I was the youngest in the family. My parents had this mistake later in life. What do I say. Yeah I was an oooppps. The mistake in the family. I came six years after my sister. My oldest brother was seventeen years older then me. Talk about mistakes. I was a big oooppps. my parents where probably looking at later in life ideas. Of travel and not having to look after family anymore. Then I came along. Well mom and dad did travel. I was pawned off on other family members while they went on trips with aunts and uncles. And friends. I spent christmas or a summer holiday with my sister and her family or with an aunt once in awhile. I remember some of those stays. As I got older I got to spend time at home with my oldest brother when mom and dad went away on some outing. As I got older I grew closer to my brother and further from my parents. The rest of the family where out on their own while I grew up. Just myself and my older brother on the farm. This lead in part of me being the quiet one. Out on a farm with no other children around close by to gather with. I did see them at school age, but never really got close to anyone there either. I was more of their bunting board then being friends with. Which in turn lead to me being even more of the quiet one. I was not a happy camper through public school. That four eyed geeky kid growing up. Eight years of being the brunt of the special kids at school
Highschool came along and I blossomed a little. The hippie era. Or the tail end of it to be exact. My parents old school and me in the time of love and rock and roll. We grew further apart. There was no understanding between myself and my parents. I would think of things that would get me onto my years in life. The years you should be thinking along the lines of what you want to do for the rest of your life. Well for me the no clue was in the air. I put a few ideas on the burner, but these meant school and more education. So they where poopoohed away in part as I was a girl and really shouldn’t be going on in school. Should have a man to look after me. One problem with that. I never had any boys take an interest in me. Girls around me going out on dates, but for me a too quiet of a person and no interest in anything. Never really got any interest from the boys. Always lead to what the heck is wrong with me, which lead to more quietness. So I muddled my way through highschool. Kept my head down and hung out with a few girlfriends until school was finished. No ambition for anything. Just get through it and get on with whatever life I would have. Oh I did have a boy in my last year of highschool though. Ended up married to him. First and only fellow I went out with. Talk about experience in that department. Made my father happy. Big wedding and I was being taken care of. Or at least so I felt anyways. My life was set. A home and soon to be family. Or so I thought. My life is complete. I was 19 at the time and never thought what would be ahead of me. Now at 62 and I am still trying to figure out who I am.
As of the way of me muddling through school also came my muddling of me through life. I had different jobs. Never stayed with one very long. I was a waitress and cashier. Jobs that always came up. Come home at night to put supper on the table and then sit behind the tv for the night and then go to bed. Just to do it all over again. We moved around quite a bit as hubbie moved up through different jobs. This lead to me not getting to know too many people in any place we where. I had a hard time with making any friends. I was just too quiet. So I would get another job and muddle my way through the day and be home at night to put supper on the table. My life was also spent with shopping. Any place we lived would lead to me finding the mall and hanging out there just to see people. Not much of a life, but this is the life I chose for myself. I know allot of people have chosen lives like this for themselves. So no different and just as boring. Well this lead me to more quietness and definitely no ambition for anything. Well I did craft my way through this life. But always my question what do I do with it afterwards. I had boxes of things I have made over the years. Gave lots of it away for presents and such. Finally gave up on crafting for a few years as I had no place to get rid of it. This kinda left me at a loss for years. There was something missing in my life. Many years later I took up crafting again. I felt so much better to be doing something again. It was a loss in my life and to bring it back and to be able to create again has brought some joy back to my life. I still can’t get rid of it quick enough, but I donate allot of it now to needy places to make it worth while to just keep crafting. So there is something that is me. I am a crafter. I am not good enough to be someone that sells my crafts, but I enjoy it. There is a who am I for myself to think about.
At 62 I still do not have much in the way of ambition. So why am I even here. Well because I was a big ooppps. I heard something a year ago that really put me into a tail spin. I was told by someone that they had heard from my father that I was not to be trusted. So it puts in a little perspective to me that I wasn’t really wanted. Well at least that is what this comment has meant to me. I was the mistake I always thought I was. It has been a year and a few months since I heard this comment. And it still takes me into a depressed state. To the question of why am I even here. Who am I? After that comment I cleaned the house up a bit. Things of my parents where put in boxes. Pictures of them where taken down. I went through days of knowing I was the mistake. This runs deep that I was just a mistake and not really feeling like I was wanted. I have put some of these feelings behind me for now, but it still rears it ugly face and comes back to me every now and then. Will this feeling ever go away. I doubt it. It was planted and it will stay with me for the rest of my life. For now my parents things stay in boxes not to be seen. I can’t even get an explanation from them as they have been gone for a few years now. So I sit and stew and wonder.
This past few years have been on the up side for me. We have settled in one place. Have been here for 15 years. I have made a few friends. I have blossomed so to speak. Our son has grown and has now left home for a life of his own. Well after many tries I had done something right in the world. I raised a son after trials and tribulations of him trying us through teen year to him growing into a fine young man.
To boot I have gotten a little braver about things I do. Years ago I would not go any place by myself to now toodling all over the country. I travel on my own and have a blast with a few friends. I am still the quiet one. I still wonder who I am and why I am here, but I think I bring a little pleasure into other peoples lives. I feel blessed when I hear that someone was wondering about me and how I am doing. I am loved in my little world..
I may not have done anything ambitious throughout my life. I did not make the famous I thought I should be. I believe though I have touched people in my own quiet way. So maybe that is why I am here. To give what love I have and touch people. I may not show it, but I do care in my own quiet way. I listen and smile. My comments are small. I cry and think of you in private, but don’t show it in public. I love and I love hard and cry for my lose in private where no one will see. I hide my sadness behind my smile.
Well the mistake I am and the mistake I will be. It is who I am and who I will be. It makes up who I am. Some things I do not know of myself yet, but am still learning. Yes at 62 I am still learning. It has taken many years to sort out who I am and it will take many more to figure further. I still wonder why I am here, but I will live my life one day at a time and discover more about myself every day. Things I will learn and things I will regret. It is part of life. I will be the goof and the beautiful women. Well so to speak. All wrapped up in one. More years of learning are still on my horizon. More life to live as my body grows weaker every year due to age and illness.
The why am I here is not to be worried about. Just keep on keeping on and enjoy that I am here. The who of me is I keep growing every day. I learn little things and big thing that help me to grow. I am who I am there is no changing that thought. I am quiet, but I love in my own sort of way. I have a big heart to share with the world. I grieve alone as that is what I do. I am here for anyone, but do it in my quiet way. Not everyone gets me, but I get myself. That to me is all that matters.
Well I guess that is it for now. Have blabbed about myself a bit too much. Will close for now and talk to you later.