Her Journey Blogs

Quoted from Wikipedia

“Keeping up with the Joneses” is a catchphrase in many parts of the English-speaking world referring to the comparison to one’s neighbor as a benchmark for social caste or the accumulation of material goods. To fail to “keep up with the Joneses” is perceived as demonstrating socio-economic or cultural inferiority.

We’ve all heard it, and to be totally honest, I think nearly everyone has been guilty of it, even in a small way. Perhaps if we weren’t “guilty” of it, we have at times “wished” we had what someone else had, even if we didn’t try and keep up with those Joneses.

Someone used this phrase today and it made me think, not so much about keeping up materialistically, but how we sometimes wish we “were” someone else or “looked” like someone else. I have done this at times. Wished I was someone else, had someone else’s look, style, figure, etc.

I believe the older we get, the more our skin feels comfortable to live in. I like being me now and it took me many years to feel happy to be myself. Without walking the paths I have chosen or the paths I was forced to walk, I wouldn’t be who I am, I wouldn’t have the family I have nor the friends I’ve chosen.

Have I had times I wished I hadn’t had to endure? YES.

Have I had situations that I hated being in? YES.

Have I said things to others that I regret? YES

Have I made mistakes I wished I hadn’t?  YES.

Would I be who I am today without them? NO!

When the wall hits me in the face and I don’t think there is any way out, I’ll make sure I remind myself that this too is “creating” me. The “me” who will wake up tomorrow and have walked along another section of my own personal journey and I’ll come out of this a better person.

I like keeping up with Chrissy now. It’s a lot easier to do and an enjoyable trip!

Chrissy

I was privileged to have a wonderful father and I loved him unconditionally. My cousin visited recently and we talked about our parents and we agreed that our childhood memories are treasures and we’ll take those wonderful memories to our graves. My dad passed away 11 years ago and there isn’t a day that goes past that I don’t think of him and smile.

We talked about their “quirks” and it brought back the memory of my father not being able to wear a watch. Well, that’s probably not quite true, because he could wear a watch, it’s just that they stopped working the minute he put them on his arm. Of course, they were the wind up type of watch, and it could never be explained by any jeweler that he told his tale of woe too. When battery operated watches were “discovered”, he thought he’d found a solution to his problem, purchased one and lo and behold it stopped within hours. He gave up and never put one on his arm again. He bought me 2 watches, one when I was 8 and one when I turned 18. I don’t have the first one he gave me, but I still have my 18^th birthday present watch.

Dad’s weak heart gave up on him when he was 69 and after a 2 day struggle in ICU, he passed away. We were all with him and felt gutted. Exhausted, my husband took my mother and I home and we sank into the lounge chairs feeling empty inside.

My mother in law had given us an Anniversary Clock on our wedding day and I looked at the clock and was speechless.  The clock was stopped on the exact time of dad’s passing. My husband tried to convince my mother and I that it was a coincidence ……..the battery must have run out……..he would fix it right away!

I was not convinced that he could, but watched in amazement as he put every new battery (and old) that he could find in that clock to try and get it going again. It has a pendulum, which is only for looks as it’s driven by the battery, but he pushed that pendulum around and around as if the motion would make the clock tick again. It didn’t. Nothing has moved that clock to this day, except for the day of my father’s funeral. When we arrived home we saw that it had moved forward to the time of my dad’s service and it’s still on that time today.

I did try one other time to put a new battery in the clock, wondering if it was just a “coincidence” and I guess in part to curb my curiosity about spiritual messages. It didn’t work. I also tried swinging the pendulum but it only “swung” while I pushed it and the minute I stopped pushing, the pendulum stopped swinging.

I still have the clock sitting on my bar (of all places, but I’m sure dad would get a kick out of its position) and I wouldn’t part with it. We have moved homes 4 times in those 11 years and I carefully pack the clock so it won’t get damaged.

Is there more to this life than we know? Is there more to this life than we believe or do we believe and trust that this is the first stage of our existence and there is more to come? Is there an explanation for this?

My father didn’t believe there was more to this life. He firmly believed that you were born, you lived and then you died. We “debated” this a million times. So, was this him telling me he was wrong about his side of the debate, or is this just a clock that gave up the ghost at a “coincidental” time?

Today is my beautiful daughter’s 33rd birthday. I’ve been reminiscing all day about the day she was born.

14 months previously, I had given birth to my son, David, and he had only survived for 20 minutes. No answers back then as to what had happened, other than to tell me that I “probably” had a virus during pregnancy, try again one day, it’ll be ok. It’s never been “OK” and although the years have helped the scar of his death fade and with the fading the direct pain goes, every time I “see” that scar, I think of him and what he would be today.

I’ve learnt a lot since then and now I understand what happened. Not through any medical geniuses telling me, but because when my son was born, they came in and gave me an injection within a few hours of his delivery. Back then, not many people questioned nurses and doctors as to the “whys” but I had and was told “You’re an O Negative blood group dearie, and David was a Positive blood grouping. This is to stop you building up antibodies that will harm any future children you carry”. When Natalie was born, I wasn’t given this injection and questioned the doctor as to why. He told me that Natalie was the same O Negative grouping that I was and so it wasn’t needed. I accepted that at the time and then when I had my second son, Dale, 2 years later, I was once again told he was O Negative so no injection.

Prior to falling pregnant with David, I had suffered a miscarriage and as I have no idea what blood grouping the baby I miscarried had been, I now assume that it would have been a positive blood group and so my body had rejected David. What a wonderful thing medical technology is now. Had that happened today, …..well you all get the gist.

Back to Natalie’s birth day.

When I went into the labour ward, they steered me towards the same room I was in when David was born. I refused to go in. Told them I would rather deliver her in the car park than go in that ward. They “tut tutted” me but when they realised I had no intention of following their instructions, they steered me to another ward, but not without telling me how silly they thought I was being. Natalie was born in no time and a healthy bouncing baby. I can still remember the first time I held her in my arms and the promises I made to that little bundle of joy. She is now a grown woman raising a wonderful little boy herself. She has had her own journey to travel and I am so proud of her I could bust.

Besides being the most wonderful mother in the world, (yeh, I’m biased lol), she is now working with the aged population, caring for them as though they were her own family. Natalie is also a registered Marriage Celebrant. She is an inspiration.

I can’t believe 33 years have passed since I held her in my arms, checked every finger and toe (probably a million times), and felt my heart beat wildly with my promises to her of a wonderful life. I don’t know if I fulfilled every promise I made that day to her, but I’ve tried my hardest and I wouldn’t change anything that I did because I’m sure that what she is today, is due to the journey she has had.

One day she was a little baby, trusting everything I did and said and next thing I knew she was a woman, with a career, raising a child of her own, with her own thoughts, ideals and goals. 33 years! Where have they gone?

Chrissy

Recently, a reporter from a current affairs show in Australia dressed as a homeless person and hit the streets of Melbourne, sitting outside stores and buildings begging for money and mimicking others in the same situation. I think we’ve all seen these types of reported segments from time to time. It’s always distressed me to see that some people are so destitute. I also know that our personal life’s journey can lead to any junction or time when a choice we make can have a long term affect on our lives which is often not the way we had wished for it to go. Nobody asks to be born into a dysfunctional family or lose their job, and I always think “there but for the grace of God go I”.

The reporter spent some time with a youth who had a very sad story to tell and he’d written his request for small change on a cardboard sign and sat outside Myers, a large department store in Australia.

Our government do have funding for people in these situations, but of course it is a pittance and would be hard to exist in that budget. There are also organisations that offer meals and a roof over their heads, but I understand that funding is limited.

Our son lives in Melbourne and last weekend we flew down for a visit. We had a wonderful time. Melbourne was celebrating their annual Moomba Water Festival, so there was something happening all weekend and we enjoyed everything they had to offer.

On one of our days with our son and his girlfriend, we went to Myers Department Store and my husband recognised the youth sitting at the entrance and pointed him out to me. I was digging in my purse for some loose change until I had a second glance. There he was with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Now, I hope your not thinking I’m a prude, because I’m also a victim of nicotine addiction and often found with the same ugly thing hanging from my mouth, but it really made me stop and think of priorities.

No food? No roof over your head? No job? No money? ………….ummm… maybe no cigarettes would be a good start! I’m really hoping I wasn’t too judgemental. Thoughts?

Chrissy