A reason, a season, a lifetime

The old saying a reason, a season or a lifetime is resonating through my brain for some reason this morning. If you are unfamiliar with it, please read the photo I added to this post for a bit of clarity. It states that "People come into our life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime." By and large, I do believe this to be true. Some people are meant to be in your life for a brief moment, a quick blip of the radar screen of life while others are meant to be there for the long haul. Some blow in like a summer storm and breeze back out just as quickly. A reason. A season. A lifetime. Up until today, it has just been saying, having no real substance in the grand scheme of my life. I believe it is the re-emergence of some people from my past that has the saying suddenly at the front and center of my mind.

A REASON
Some people have crossed my path for the sole purpose of teaching me a lesson. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always a learning experience. Last night I received a message from the ghost of boyfriends past. Someone I had a fling with years and years ago that I tried reconciling with over the summer. His reason? I believe the reason he entered my life again was to teach me the value of honesty and being truthful, especially with myself. I have always valued honesty in all of my relationships, but for my closest loved ones, it is vital. However, I have always struggled to maintain complete honesty with myself. I tell myself that I am ok being single. And I am. But deep down, I want that someone special to come into my life and share the up's and down's and everything in between's.

The short time we were together this summer was packed with lies. Little white ones and huge grand daddy whopper ones. Fortunately, I caught on quickly and ended things as fast as they started. The last couple months have been filled with silence until he suddenly sent me a message last night. Not wanting to hear any more lies or excuses I hit the delete button and asked a mutual friend to tell him that I wanted no contact with him. It seems that he is now suffering from brain cancer. Maybe he wants to right his wrongs. But I doubt it. Two of the three pictures he posted of his "tumor" were lifted from the internet. Yeah, so much for atonement.

Honesty...

Honesty is such a lonely word. Everyone is so untrue. Honesty is hardly ever heard, and mostly what I need from you

Aahhh, Good old Billy Joel. Singer, piano player and lyricist extraordinaire. Honesty is what I need most from myself and from others. It may be cold and brutal at times, but I would rather hurt for a moment than suffer a lifetime of scars.

A SEASON
Longer than a reason but shorter than a lifetime. Therein lies "the season". Seasonal people may literally be a part of your life for just a season, but some stick around for a longer span of time. I believe they also enter one's life to teach a lesson, but their teachings are a lot less in your face or blunt as the "reasons" are. These lessons require more time and detail to learn and fully appreciate. Seasons are the mentors, the tutors, the teachers. I am a chef by trade and have learned so many wonderful lessons from so many knowledgeable people in my vocation. These people make up the bulk of my seasons. I have worked side by side with many seasons, learning the craft and soaking up their knowledge. Just last weekend, I found myself being another cook's season. It was a wonderful moment when I realized that the lessons I have learned in the kitchen were being passed on to the next generation.

I have worn the title of "manager" or "chef" for a number of years now and it has always felt a little uncomfortable to me. I have no formal degree in either, instead learning directly from others and through trial and error on my own. And let me tell you, there have been some momentous errors along the way, both in my approach to managing others and in cooking technique. While I rarely seek out the manager title, it often gets bestowed upon me and I am learning to accept it. Will I ever truly be comfortable with it? Probably not, but que sera, sera. The only true part of being the leader that I truly embrace is the sharing of the knowledge I have collected along the way. For me, the 29 years I have spent in the kitchen has been worth every drop of blood, sweat and tear shed since it means I get to be someone else's season and teach them the lessons I have learned. If only one person I have helped moves on to a leadership position and continues the cycle of learning, my time will have been well spent. To all my seasons, I thank you and hope our paths will cross again one day!

A LIFETIME
This one may seem obvious to most of you. A lifetime is a person who has been there from the start, yes? Not always. My lifetimes have run the gamut of time spent in my life. They need not necessarily be a physical presence from beginning to end to be a "lifetime". It is how deeply they touch the heart that makes someone a lifetime in my eyes. Some of my lifetimes are actually fairly recent additions to my life, while others made an early exit from my existence.

I lost my mother at the age of 15 and my father at age 24. They are hands down the greatest influences on my life, as parents usually are, but for vastly different reasons. My mother was a harsh, cruel woman with narcissistic tendencies and a propensity for abuse. Harsh words were routinely spoken and punishments swift and severe. It has not been easy, but I am one of the lucky few who have been able to overcome the cycle of abuse and I use her words and actions daily to be a better parent to my children. Not every lesson learned from my mother was bad, though. She did teach me the love of cooking and reading. Those two skills have carried me further in my life than anything else ever could have. For everything bad my mother said or did, my father desperately tried to compensate for. He was not an emotional or affectionate man, so the smallest gesture from him was a huge deal to me. He taught me the value of hard work and what it means to go above and beyond what is expected. He nurtured my creative side and urged me to pursue my passions, however fleeting they were. While my parents couldn't have been any more opposite of each other, the lessons they taught me will most certainly last my lifetime and I hope some of those will linger through future generations of my family.

A more recent addition to my lifetimers is a friend and former roommate of mine. We met at work and hit it off from the start, but I kept her at arm's length, as I usually do with people. Even while we lived together, I tried to maintain a certain amount of space between us. She saw me at my best and at my worst, but she never saw all of me. She still hasn't, but I am working on that. I was recently a bridesmaid in her wedding and that was such an eye-opening experience for me. I have been a member in other wedding parties, but hers was different. I have never played well with other females, preferring the company of men, but she has taught me the value of a strong female focused friendship. I have started letting my down and letting more women into my inner circle and I am finding myself a better person for it. She may have entered my life later than most, but her influence has most certainly been far reaching.

At any given time in our lives, we are somebody's reason, season or lifetime. I have learned that this is how we grow and become better people. Some of us learn the lessons we need in order to live a happier, more enriched life. Some will keep their eyes closed to the very lessons they need to learn. My request to all of you is to please open your eyes and hearts to the lessons surrounding you every day and try to make the most of them. We will all be better people for it. If you find yourself in the position of being the teacher, try to teach gently and kindly, with patience and compassion. Life is hard and it teaches us some very harsh truths. Try to buffer these harsh realities with strength in your convictions, truth in your words and love in your hearts.

What tattoos I have and what special meaning they have

Tattoos have always fascinated me. They speak to my rebellious, artistic side. Loudly!!! I don't remember when I first decided to adorn myself with ink, but it had to have been fairly early in my life. It seems that I was always in trouble for writing and drawing on myself and my clothes.

I remember talking with my father about getting my first tattoo done. I had gone with a friend and watched while she got her first one done. I was entranced and I wanted one, too. I had no clue what I wanted and we discussed the options. It was decided that when the time came, dear old dad would accompany me to get it done. Unfortunately, that day never came. He passed away before I could get my first tattoo done. It wasn't until after the insurance company had settled out his life insurance policy did I get my first tattoo done.

The day I received my check was the day I decided I was finally getting my tattoo done and it was to be in memory of him. His favorite color was blue, so I chose a blue rose surrounded by Celtic vinework and leaves. It was excruciating for me to sit still and wait as the needle rhythmically placed colored ink beneath my skin. Not because it hurt, because the pain was almost nonexistent, but because it was torture for me to still while it was being done. Afterwards, as I inspected my new artwork in the mirror, I felt a tinge of sadness as I remembered who was supposed to be with me at that moment. It hurt me deeply that my father wasn't there, but at the same time, I felt there was no higher honor than choosing my first tat in his memory.

My second tattoo also holds a very special meaning for me. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I suffer from BPD (borderline personality disorder). One of the symptoms, for a lack of a better word for it, is cutting. I have been a cutter since junior high school and my arms bear numerous scars from my turbulent past. I haven't cut into my flesh in nearly 3 1/2 years, but there have been a handful of times that I wanted to. As a way of reminding myself to be stronger than my illness, I got the word "fighter" tattooed amongst the scars on my left wrist. It is my way of telling myself that I am able to fight through the pain in my head and my heart and inflict more pain on my body. So far, it has served its purpose perfectly. It has the added bonus of being a conversation starter. Numerous people have asked me its significance and I am not shy about admitting my illness to anyone. It is a part of who I am, and if my tattoo can help someone else come to terms with themselves, it is worth it.

In addition to the blue rose honoring my father, I plan on getting a similar rose in honor of each of my children in their favorite colors. Pink for Emily, purple for Abby, orange for Chris and yellow for Michael. And to honor myself, I am planning on getting a chef sleeve done. Yes, I know it pretty much seals my fate as being a cook for the rest of my life. But I'm OK with that. Its what I do and its what I'm passionate about.

Someone who fascinates me and why

There are so many people who fascinate me for so many

reasons, but today's post is about my children. So it's not just about one person in particular, but the four most important people in my life. Ever.

Michael
My older son Michael turns 16 in less than a month. It is so very hard for me to fathom he is a teenager, let alone 16!!! already. When he came out for spring break, the inevitable happened. He is finally taller than me. *sigh* Anyway... Michael fascinates me on so many levels, but particularly how emotional he is. He is not your typical macho, rough, tough I gotta show the world I'm a man now kind of teenager. He feels the world differently than most, I can hear it in his voice when he talks. He questions me about a lot of things, and while I applaud his curiosity, sometimes it drives me to the point where I snap. After a long day of work in a hot kitchen, the last thing a mother wants to come home to is a round of 20 questions. I see his emotional side as both a blessing and a curse, as I am the same way. When I'm "on", I tend to over feel and over think and I see that starting to emerge in him. When I'm " off", I will shut you out in half a heartbeat. I am seeing that emerge innhim as well. I'm hoping I can teach him how to cope with his emotions instead of letting them get the better of him, as mine often do.

Emily
Emily, or as I usually call her Emmy, is the older of my twin daughters. Older by 19 minutes, but she lauds those 19 short minutes over her sister's head like a trophy! Emily fascinates me for the beauty that is beginning to emerge from her. Physically, she isn't built like her father or I, but if you had to choose a parent that she favors, it would be me. If she continues to grow as she is, my daughter is going to be tall and willowy. I am tall, but I'm solidly built. Miss Em is long and lean and all flowing arms and legs. She also has beautiful long, straight sandy blonde hair, grey eyes and her facial features are taking on a delicate doll like appearance. I love watching her when she plays or when she's dancing because she is just breath taking to behold. I sit back in wonder and ask how I made something so delicate and graceful looking when I am anything but delicate or graceful!

Abigail
Also known as Abby, she is my younger daughter. She absolutely hates being the younger sister and rebels against Emily whenever possible and often complains that she never has any privacy or space to herself. What fascinates me about Abby is the force behind her personality. There is no halfway with my babybgirl-she is 100% all other time. If she's angry, everyone knows it. If she's happy, everyone knows it. If she is feeling particularly proud of an accomplishment, everyone knows it. She has a fire that burns in her that I'm going to have to teach her how to control before it causes problems. When she feels she has been wronged, she will not back down. That includes her arguments with me! I am a strong willed woman, Abby sometimes makes me look weak.

Christopher
Aaahhhh, my baby. My "baby" is going to be ten this year and I simply don't feel that that is possible.  I always felt that Chris was going to be the class clown when he stated school. There isn't much this boy won't do to get a laugh out of me and his siblings. Sing silly songs? Check! Tell knock knock jokes? Check! Play practical jokes? Check! But what he truly excels at is his ability with physical comedy. He can control his falls and trips like no one I have ever seen outside of Hollywood. This hold is either going to be a comedian or a stunt person! But what truly fascinates me about my youngest is his impeccable timing. He seems to intuitively know when a perfectly timed burp will get the most laughs or when to loudly proclaim "whoever smelt it dealt it". When he erupts in a fit of giggles, know that no one is saferom his shenanigans. And those shenanigans are nearly always infectious!