Right then, nothing was certain. Grandpa was in the hospital. It’s his heart, they said. We gathered together not knowing when or if he would wake up. There was nothing for us to do except wait and be there for each other.
My family isn’t always great at expressing or processing emotions, but in times of need we’re all there in one form or another and that means everything. That we know we’ll always have each other.
It’s scary with our patriarch being in this state. He’s the kind of patriarch that no one wants to smash. The kind that holds you while you grow and wraps you in the love of his smile. He has been a father to all of us — my siblings and I — when our own father would not be. While my grandma was the sometimes cold hand, firmly leading the family, my grandpa was the soft, reassuring pat on the back, encouraging us to live our lives in love and faith.
I’ve never known a man to live in the light as fully as our patriarch. He let it shine through him always. It came through his bright blue eyes that everyone in the family inherited but me. It came through the shit eating grin he wore when he was being “ornery.” He always asked if I was being good, just because he knew I’d ask it back, and he loved to say "no," even though the answer was always yes. There wasn’t an ounce of him that didn’t radiate goodness and strength.
He said "yellow" instead of "hello" and when he meant to say yellow it was pronounced “yelluh”. My mom adopted his way of saying, “warshing machine.” Even though it drove me mad when she said it, I always found it funny coming from him. He’d say, “Oh, that guy’s just a bird!” and by that he meant ornery, and maybe a little wild. A bird with its head in the clouds. A free spirit, landing only every now and again.
Maybe that’s why my aunt started calling me "Little Bird." Partially because I’d always fly away, but also because grandpa taught her about spirits like mine.
Now he’s gone, though I carry him with me. When the morning sun rises, I see the twinkle in his eye and I’m reminded of the man who taught me what love is.
I love you, Grandpa
- Your Little Bird
They say you only live once, but I’ve lived and loved and died a thousand times. All of these former selves and frames of mind. I hardly remember the old me, or the ones before that.
Behind me is a road map of past lives and closed doors. There’s the door I shut quietly as I tip-toed out, never looking back. There’s a door or two or three that are piles of ash now. Then there are the doors that are left wide open. Those are the places or opportunities that I think about. The versions of me I can sometimes be if I would just decide where it is I want to go.
There are doors in front of me, too. They are everywhere. The options at my fingertips, waiting for me to turn the knob.
In a past life, I thought I knew all the answers. I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted, where I was going and how to get there. As it turns out, people change. We grow and learn and mold along the way. We close the doors to our old selves. Born and renewed in our new realms over and over again until we’re closer to our own real truth.
Sometimes I look back and wonder what it would be like if I chose a different life. If I picked door one instead of door two. If I were a little more mature before going through all those growing pains.
Of course, we carry pieces from each of our lives lived. Sometimes we carry regret or shame and we wear it on our new selves, forgetting that this is not who we are anymore.
So instead of carrying the wrongs of all of the old me’s into this new era, I’m learning to shed the weight. Life is short and all of the changes of self we go through while we’re here are for a purpose. They are leading us somewhere.
So I carry all the good forward. I mature and I grow and I’m proud of the doors I’ve closed. Some choices are harder than others and there have been times where I accidentally closed doors, leaving myself overwhelmed and in mourning of the death of that old me.
But I am here.
I survived.
And I would close every door again if it led me to you.
Age Gap: What it’s like dating someone 11 years older
I met my significant other, Alex when I was 24 and he was 35. I have not previously dated someone with that much of an age gap, but I decided that it wasn’t a valid reason to end the relationship. It’s challenging at times, but it is important to maintain as much communication as possible in order to bridge the gap. Note — communication meaning understanding each other’s communication style, not just verbal communication.
When we first started getting serious, a lot of people would make comments about the age gap, in particular my parents. They were very much thrown off by it. My parents had me at a very young age — 17 to be exact — and I am not going to lie, it did feel weird when my mother met my significant other. Eventually, she realized that it was silly to be against me dating him just because of the age gap. There are some family members that do not necessarily agree with the age gap, but at the end of the day, it is my relationship, not theirs.
From the beginning, I realized that our life and career plans were very different. Alex lives in Los Angeles County and I live in Bakersfield, California (2 hours away). Not only did I face the age gap situation, but also the long distance. Once we discussed our life plans, we decided that I would move to Los Angeles after graduation. We came to this agreement after several years of balancing the pros and cons of both cities. Even though planning is crucial, COVID-19 taught us that we also must learn to live day by day and not rush things.
Something that I’ve learned in our relationship is how to increase my emotional intelligence. Alex once told me, “You do realize not everything needs a reaction.” I immediately gave him a reaction following his unsolicited comment! I did not learn right away what he meant, but he eventually explained what he meant. I originally had taken it as always being angry. After speaking about his stoic stance, I realized that he was right. I had to choose my battles, and before I realized it, I wasn’t reacting to every single thing. That, my friends, is what I call growth.
Different communication styles: It is important to find the communication style for both parties in a relationship. For me, quality time is important, and I am quite an analyzer while Alex is more of a socializer. We both took the 5 Love Language quiz and I got quality time while his quiz indicated the language of receiving gifts. When it comes to the Myer-Briggs personality test, I am an INFJ and Alex is an ESFJ. It is important to not only understand these concepts but also to understand human behavior and why we take certain actions, especially in relationships where partners are quite the opposite. It is essential to learn each other’s communication style because it helps understand both perspectives when disagreements arise.
Slight cultural gap: There are times when we won’t understand each other’s references, but it is also a time to learn and find a common interest for both of us.
Sense of humor: I think it’s important to maintain a sense of humor in the relationship. Being best friends and navigating the relationship as such really helps and thus, we learn from each other.
Even though there are disagreements in the relationship, it is important to find balance and compromise in situations. Humans are complex by nature and a balance is necessary in order to maintain a successful relationship. This does not mean dismiss differences. On the contrary, it’s important to bring awareness to those differences and grow together instead of apart. Age-gap relationships are very much stigmatized, but at the end of the day, the relationship is up to the parties involved.
I stood in line by the grocery store cart watching my mom and dad unload groceries. The conveyor belt, however, was at a standstill as the elderly lady in front of us threw up her hands in frustration. Tears started trolling down her cheeks.
“I really need all of this. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she confessed to the cashier, tears ready to roll down her cheek.
I watched her few items roll by on the belt as the cashier rung her up. Paper towels, cat food, and a couple food items.
My dad pushed forward to talk to the woman discreetly.
“How much are you short?” he asked her.
“Seven dollars,” she said through tears.
Maybe it was because that’s exactly how old I was at the time, or maybe it was just that it was a simple moment that became a big moment in my life. I’ve never forgotten, though, the amount or the look of relief on the lady’s face when my dad opened his wallet and handed over the seven dollars she needed.
After profuse thank-yous, the elderly woman was on her way with the few items she needed to get by that week. At seven, though, I didn’t understand the momentousness of what my dad did until we got in the car.
“Dad, why didn’t you just pay for her entire order?” I’d asked as naïve children sometimes do.
He looked in the rearview mirror at me, shrugging. “Because I didn’t have enough to pay for it all, but I could give her the seven she needed.”
That moment was a small moment, but to me, it was everything. At thirty-two, I still think about that small gesture, that sad lady, and how my dad used seven dollars to make her week a little brighter. More than that, as I aged, I came to realize something I didn’t understand then.
Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money. It wasn’t always easy for my parents to make ends meet. That seven dollars he passed over to that lady without a second thought were probably some of the last dollars he had for the week. My dad gave them up anyway, not thinking for a second about what it would mean for his own wallet or week.
When we’re young, we learn things without even understanding. That day, my dad taught me an important lesson. You don’t have to be a millionaire to make a difference. It isn’t always about starting a charity or conducting a huge fundraiser. Sometimes, it just takes selflessness and seven dollars.
My dad is a humble man. He would never tell this story willingly. He would never tell of all the times since then that he’s done a similar thing. Just last week, in fact, he handed over a twenty to cover someone’s bill at the store when their card wasn’t working.
Our world is a dark place, and especially in 2020, it can feel like nothing is going right. It can be easy to lose faith in humanity. But in a dark, harsh world, I hope my dad’s story can remind us all that we can all change the world for someone in small ways.
Whether you have seven minutes or seven cents or seven dollars, there are small ways you can make a big difference, even if it is just for one person. My dad taught my seven-year-old self that very lesson on a random day at the grocery store, and it’s something that has stuck with me ever since.
Sometimes you can want something and still know the better decision is to walk away. Maybe this is what growing up is all about — to honor your boundaries, your heart, and know when you are not being respected. When I was little, I wasn’t allowed to eat ice cream. I would sneak eating it any chance I wasn’t with my mom, and later I would get a bad stomach ache. I'd learn that even if you want something so badly, if it’s not meant for you, all you can do is learn to live without it. I don’t crave ice cream anymore, and I can’t wait for the day I feel the same about you.
Tell me again how I ruin your life —
A tall tale told many times in my life.
Sing me the lullaby of my youth,
My soulful symphony,
My undying truth.
Tell me how my bones melt with venom —
How people run from where I’m from
So I don’t get ‘em.
Notice me, in all my glory —
How I smile when I cry
With unbridled fury.
Then hug me and hold me
And tell me it’s fine.
Just let it go, just like the last time.
Let the cycle continue week after week,
Until we’re both weak with the poison we speak.
A letter to the girl — well, young adult — woman. Mid-twenties. The one with tears streaming down her face, bags under her eyes as if she has not slept.
Hello, girl. I want to let you know it will be okay. You will cry out all the tears, and someday it won’t hurt so bad.
Don’t forget the beauty that lies within a sunset, giggles with a little baby, or a meow from a furry creature.
You’ll be held up when you can no longer hold yourself. People will come. To sit with you as you cry, send you songs, little packages of hope. You can even climb into your mother's lap as if you were again a little girl. It sure feels that way, being so broken and wishing a hug would take it away.
The sound of the crashing waves will sing a melody of peace within your soul as you sit down there and write, and write. Out come your thoughts, and some emotions will become no more.
Then night will come, and the pain so deep will abound. You’ll wonder if it will last forever. It sure feels that way. Nothing stops the tears, your head begins to ache; and mounds of tissue on the floor.
If only I could fix this, maybe if I say this, maybe if I pray enough, maybe if I find the right counselor, maybe, maybe. And then you realize, no. He is gone; and you, alone. Though don’t forget all who surround you. You may feel alone, though are not. Will not be.
And days turn into months, into years. New relationships succeed and fail. And then, just as before, you close your eyes in that room. The same one you cried all those tears.
Those seven nights, your head sleeps as you prepare for something new. Something new in which you lost before, marriage. You’ll have a new husband; and a new home. And remember, it’ll all be okay.
Life is not easy if you are doing it right. We are going to have heartbreaks, failures, successes, pleasure, joy, fear, uncertainty, and a million other emotions. When you allow yourself to be vulnerable, you feel and experience all that life has to offer.
I am someone that believes in letting go of things that I can’t control — it keeps my stress low, helps me be present at the moment and focus my energy on what I can control. But when it comes to letting go of people, I really struggle. When I fall in love with someone, whether it’s platonic or romantic, I do it with all that I am. Throughout my life, friendships have molded me into the woman I am today, relationships have taught me what I do and don’t want in a partner, mentors have shaped my future, and parents have shown me a life I don’t want. Those collective experiences have been a part of my journey, my growth, and are pieces to the puzzle of who I am.
When someone has made a lasting impression on you, how do you let them go? I’ve spent many nights torn on this, as I’ve spent the past year trying to let go of someone who has had a profound impact on me. I could rationally think through why I needed to let this person go from every angle possible, but it still never felt right. How do I let go of someone who is unforgettable, irreplaceable, and relentlessly ingrained in my mind? Someone that cracked open a part of me that I had kept closed out of fear and insecurities. The answer is, you don’t. And that’s okay.
We don’t completely let go of those who have made an impact on our lives. We don’t let go of the memories, the growth, and everything they gave to us in the form of a life lesson or enlightenment. We do have to let go of the hurt, the shame, the anger, and the future we dreamed of with that person. We have to grieve over the end of the relationship, wish them well and move forward to the next life adventure. Their footprints on our heart designate a chapter in our story, a lesson learned. Their impact is forever entangled with who we are, and that’s okay. We don't completely let go of those that have made an impact on us. But never forget, we are also a lingering memory, an impact, a footprint on someone else's heart as well.
If you like this article, check out: https://www.harnessmagazine.com/lightning-in-a-bottle/
I don’t know what hurt more. The sharp words we used to fatally wound one another or the impact of the back of your hand as it flies across my face. It’s a numbing haze that I associate with the assault as I hear the piercing sound of your flesh striking mine. I could feel the imprinted mark that it dealt to me, the rippling sting that connected with my plump cheek, the metallic taste covering my tongue. My knees weaken as I crumble to the floor.
Oh, . . . God
The air hastens from my wheezing lungs when my shoulder brutally hits the gleaming hardwood surface that my feet once stood upon. I cry out, withering away in the fetal position as your fury morphs into shock. Witnessing the horror of your actions my fear ricochets off my skin and onto yours, creating a haunting echo throughout the room. Mumbles of words fill my ringing eardrums.
I didn’t mean it, baby, I’m so sorry . . .
A trail of bewilderment and agony run heinously in my mind, as I revolt in the aftermath of what you have done, trying to dwell on what we did to cause this irreversible chaos. Your face is drained of color as I glance in the mirror to see hues of red and purple rising on the skin of my cheek. Words continue to tumble from your mouth.
I never meant to hurt you . . .
Opaque crimson liquid drips from my inflamed bottom lip. My mind as of yet to contemplate why my face feels hurts, which leaves my thoughts a jumbled, convoluted mess of denial. Tears stream down my swollen cheek, composing a haze of inconsistencies around me, blinding me with its knowledge.
Please forgive me . . .
A roaring thump grabs my attention detaching me from the void that was descending into my existence. Genuflecting before me, a look of devastation is painted across your features. Your nostrils flare, your mouth pressed firm with tension, as your trembling hand's quake as they touch my profoundly swelling jaw.
What did I do?
Next time I will be more cautious of who I let in. No longer letting prior nostalgia throw me into the deep end, abandoning me to drown with no remedies or medicine to help soothe the pain. In the past, I have had jokers trying to steal the very core of me. I have been poached ruthlessly by hunters and thieves and held captive by the wolves trying to assault me viciously. Leaving me battered and bruised searching for safety.
Life was bleak, rapidly becoming a passage that was indistinguishable. Liquor became my only release when the constant stream of tears would suffocate me. I would go out, night after night, sitting in a bar drinking away the memories of my past, submerging myself in the liquor, letting it numb me, putting me in a haze of intoxication where my memories couldn't haunt me.
Then you emerge from a crowd, and in one night alter this young woman's interpretations of what she thought love meant. You effortlessly vanquish the inner turmoil I was experiencing in my past. Extinguishing the eerie darkness with a pure light that only you seem to resonate. You completely immerse me in your presence. You provided me the coverage and affection that I've never held within my grasp. Molding together and embracing the broken, fragmented pieces of my past, showing me a pulsating depiction of what a soul-bearing connection should reflect.
Demonstrating with steady hands what real intimacy ought to be in this tainted world. Instead of running away from the demons trying to possess me, you demolished their hold, severing the beacon that was holding me to them. I tremble as you begin mending the broken little girl inside of me. Finally, letting her anguish fade, you refused to allow her agony to fester inside of me. You conveyed me back to life, with your truthfulness and honesty. Out of the grim darkness, the pure beam of sunlight that resonated was you. No longer am I drowning, for my lifeline is entangled in you.
Ever since the first online chatrooms allowed people to exchange communication, there’s been a discussion about the influence of internet technology on dating and human relations in general. Why people get disappointed when they meet in real life for the first time if things were going so well online? Does our online presence help us deceive or do people create their fantasies according to what they see on our profile? Should we expect to meet the person we know from our inbox or expect an entirely different experience of the same character.
This and many questions are just a few of many we need to ask ourselves in order to prepare ourselves for our first date with someone we met online. In this article, we're going to share a few tips that should make the clash with reality much easier to handle.
The online world is full of danger, as well as wonders, so make sure you know you can feel safe along with that person. Public places are safe enough, but bad things happen to people in malls, museums, and college campuses all the time.
The author of “The Illusion of Intimacy: Problem of the world of online dating” states that people form illusions of persons they meet online. What we see, what we receive, it all affects the image we create and it’s important to understand that it’s a bit blurry until we meet in real life. Therefore, try and make it as least blurry as you can until you decide to go on a date.
Nature has a way with all living things, and we humans have one of the most complex connections in our brain as one of nature's gifts. When we meet someone, we do more than looking and listening. We smell that person, we feel their energy, we touch their skin and we share the same space.
People get nervous before new experiences, and that’s just the signal our brain is sending us before we go on a first date. Expecting to see the same individual you know from a picture might end up in a disappointment simply because the photo is several months old, and a person got a new haircut.
This is a good way to avoid disappointment because we should understand that the other party is experiencing you in a new way, too, so that the link you were feeling online could be a bit thinner or even thicker, depending on how the date goes.
Most of us form online contacts easily, however, going out on a date is a decision each of us makes in our own way. Even though your partner might be open and close to you online, it’s fair to be less enthusiastic about the chance to hit it off on the first date. Some people are withdrawn when they meet in real life, others could transfer the same energy from the online world or feel uncomfortable feeling it real life.
We should expect and respect boundaries but it's not always clever to ask before the date if there are any, because that might reflect badly on the course of the date and turn the person away from us because it would appear as if we’re preparing a strategy. It’s better to simply let the partner guide you towards as the time goes.
The online world is not entirely a theater of false representations, it’s also a useful socialization tool for those of us who prefer initializing contact from a safe environment. The reality of online relationships depends in great measure on those who build contact and why they do it. To avoid disappointment, we must know ourselves and set proper defenses on time.