#Bloganuary – Living Boldly

WordPress has started #bloganuary, prompting writers with a different question daily, and reminds to tag the post Bloganuary in your tag section so it shows up in the reader with other Bloganuary posts. Also, don’t forget to share these posts on social media using the hashtag #Bloganuary.

Today’s a great day to blog, and the Bloganuary prompt is:

What does it mean to live boldly?

The rules:

Remember these two things:

  1. Add the bloganuary tag to your post.
  2. Promote your blog post on social media, using the hashtag #bloganuary.

What Does It Mean to Live Boldly?

I hopped on to this prompt because it felt appropriate as I’ve been struggling with my decision about going on my long awaited winter escape to Mexico. I’ve eagerly been awaiting this much needed escape, despite my being a Covid hermit for much of the last two years. I avidly follow news reports, Covid reports, country alerts etc. and even though my airline has canceled my flight a few times and my managing to book new flights, the apprehension looms with my anxiety of braving the elements while also hoping my new flight will remain.

I’ve spent a lot of time battling my two minds, or my mind and my heart, and after all I’m seeing and hearing with Covid reports, it appears as of now, Mexico is doing better than my own country! So I’ve decided, Covid here, Covid there, minus 20 here with grey skies and seclusion, sunshine and 88 degrees and several of my friends have already arrived there, what am I fussing about?

With all my weighing out, and despite my biggest fear of passing my Covid test to get back to Canada when the trip is done, I can mask up there as well as I mask up here. So yes, I’ve decided that I’m going to live boldly and go ahead with my travel plans. If I spent the rest of my life worrying about what could happen, I’d never do anything. This virus is heading into its third year. Nothing is going to change for a very long time as long as the world doesn’t reach herd immunity. It’s every man for himself to stay protected no matter where we go. If we wait to get back to living, when will that actually be? Years more, no doubt and more spikes and mutations to be had. Another day of living life is no guarantee. Every day is a gift. If we keep pushing off plans for living, who knows if we’ll be capable of traveling next year or the next year. Tomorrows are never guaranteed.

So yes, I’m going to live boldly instead of cowering behind my fears. I’m going to head for sun and sea with best efforts and begin to loosen the load of worry and act like the excited going away person that I should be savoring at this time instead of dreading. Ole!

©DGKaye2022

*Don’t forget to sign up for the daily prompt if you feel like jumping into one for the month of January. If you missed or deleted the signup invite post from WordPress, you can sign up from the original post page.

Time for an Update – U.K. Plans and Mexico

Like many things, our intentions don’t always come to fruition.

 

I know for months now I’ve been talking about my plans to go the U.K. as I anxiously awaited the arrival of my bestie to get here for a visit and my plans to fly back to the U.K. with her after. But sometimes plans change, and in my case, I’ve rearranged my plans and wanted to update you here, especially since I’ve chatted about my plans with several of my British and European friends in anticipation of meeting up with some of you.

 

So why the change of heart?

 

After losing my husband in April then moving in June, exhausted both mentally and physically, and full of grief, the only thing I wanted to do was to jump on a plane and get the hell out of Dodge. But Covid restrictions hampered those plans. Our airports didn’t open up to foreign travelers until early fall, and that kept my friend from getting here until late October.  She will be leaving back for the U.K. without me, later this week. Besides the fact that U.K. is experiencing higher Covid numbers again, and that my intentions of staying in U.K/Europe for a good month or two would have had to have been cut shorter because it’s so late in the year already, the upcoming holidays, and my having to prepare for my winter vacation in Mexico beginning late January, my husband’s gravestone is not yet erected and I’ve been anxiously awaiting that to happen so I can plan a celebration of life gathering for him with our friends because he was ripped off of a proper large funeral gathering at the time of his passing.

 

I’m feeling very unsettled about the headstone going up without my being around to acknowledge it and my plans for a small gathering to honor my husband’s life once the stone goes up. It seems that even headstones are in delay due to the Covid. So with all those factors rolled into one, I decided it’s best for me not to take off right now. I can’t even believe that in two months I’ll be on my way back to Puerto Vallarta!

 

I’m already dreading the holidays here and wishing away December. But I’m very much looking forward to a winter escape to a familiar place where I can somehow still feel like my husband’s spirit will be with me. As a newly minted widow, the thought of going anywhere else this winter gave me anxiety with first time being alone again traveling after a quarter century of traveling as a couple. But I decided to go back to PV and stay at the same location as we always did because we have many Canadian snowbird friends who stay at the same location annually, and at this time in my life I’m grateful for the familiarity I will be in and I won’t be alone there. I’ll have friends to gab with at the pool and to join up with for outings. I’ll also be having a few of my friends from home come down for a stay, so I should be quite comfortable back in PV in the land of wonderful people, sunshine, the ocean and beautiful sunsets. And I will have new plans come next spring for visiting both the U.K. and Europe. So just know my friends, I will get there. And hopefully by then, the Covid will be less of a worry, and I’ll be traveling in a warmer season.

 

©DGKaye2021

 

 

Sunday Book Review – On Grief & Grieving – Elisabeth Kubler-Ross & David Kessler

My Sunday Book Review is for Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler’s, On Grief & Grieving – Finding the Meaning of Grief Through the Five stages of Loss.

As many of you know, after losing my husband three months ago and moving very recently, I haven’t had a lot of time to read, and when I do read it’s comfort and information I crave to learn in this new journey of onehalfness I’m wading through. I know these books I’m trying to read right now may not be everyone’s genre, but it’s a bridge that we’ll all have to cross at some points of our lives, if we haven’t already, and it’s good for people to learn what to expect, find that you are not crazy, and even if you aren’t a griever, will learn what goes on with a loved one when they grieve.

 

 

Blurb:

Shortly before her death in 2004, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and David Kessler, her collaborator, completed the manuscript for this, her final book. On Grief and Grieving is a fitting completion to her work. Thirty-six years and sixteen books ago, Kübler-Ross’s groundbreaking On Death and Dying changed the way we talk about the end of life. Now On Grief and Grieving will profoundly influence the way we experience the process of grief.
On Death and Dying began as a theoretical book, an interdisciplinary study of our fear of death and our inevitable acceptance of it. It introduced the world to the now-famous five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. On Grief and Grieving applies these stages to the process of grieving and weaves together theory, inspiration, and practical advice, all based on Kübler-Ross’s and Kessler’s professional and personal experiences, and is filled with brief, topic-driven stories. It includes sections on sadness, hauntings, dreams, coping, children, healing, isolation, and even the subject of sex during grief.
“I know death is close,” Kübler-Ross says at the end of the book, “but not quite yet. I lie here like so many people over the years, in a bed surrounded by flowers and looking out a big window….I now know that the purpose of my life is more than these stages….It is not just about the life lost but also the life lived.”
In one of their final writing sessions, Kübler-Ross told Kessler, “The last nine years have taught me patience, and the weaker and more bed-bound I become, the more I’m learning about receiving love.”
On Grief and Grieving is Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s final legacy, one that brings her life’s work profoundly full circle.

 

My 5 Star Review:

Anticipatory grief – knowing your loved one is going to die, and fearing in silence without wanting to talk to anyone in this mode.

I learned this ‘pre-grief’ grieving before I learned about the mourning grief aftermath. Kubler-Ross calls it anticipatory grief – “When a loved one has to go through anticipatory grief in order to prepare for the final separation from this world, we have to go through it too.” Only, we, the ones left behind have to live it twice. There is no one response to loss and grief that two people will share. Every grief is unique as the relationship the griever shared with their lost loved one.

This book was confirming as it goes through the stages of grieving, and more about grief, and how it forever changes us.

Maria Shriver wrote a most beautiful Foreword for the anniversary edition of this book. She states that in her lifetime she has come to know grief only too well coming from the Kennedy family, and says, “We are a grief-illiterate nation.” She continues by saying that Dr. Ross and Kessler teach us how to grieve in this book and goes on to tell us that where she came from, nobody outwardly showed or talked about their grief. She attests to Dr. Ross’s book helping her through, stating, “When you’re grieving, sometimes your only constant companion is a book.” Shriver continues to say, “We live in a society where everyone wants us to get back to normal as soon as possible. . . but it doesn’t work that way.” “We find hope in other people’s journeys.”

This book is a great companion to grief. In it, Dr. Ross shares her stories and stages of grief and goes into them with her own experiences and sharing stories of others she witnessed as she studied many people on their last journey before death. She takes us into specific losses and incidence and how the left loved ones endured the stages of grief. In working with the dying, Ross gave voice to all who couldn’t speak for themselves. But from this book, I choose to share a list of poignant sentences that rang true and comforting to me as I proceed through my own grief for the recent loss of my husband.

“There is a saying that if your writing doesn’t keep you up at night, it will never keep anyone else up at night either. In creating this book I often felt that if it didn’t make us cry, if it didn’t help us heal our own grief, it would never help anyone else.” ~ Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Elisabeth always said, “Listen to the dying. They will tell you everything you need to know about when they are dying.”

“Denial and shock help us to cope and make survival possible. . . it’s nature’s way of letting in only as much as we can handle.” “These feelings are important; they are the psyche’s protective mechanisms.”

“The will to save a life is not the power to stop a death.”

Dr. Ross takes us through the five stages of grief: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Loss: “An unimaginable, indescribable loss has taken place. It has inficted a wound so deep that numbness and excruciating pain are the material of which it is made.”

She goes on to talk about how grief overtakes us at a moment’s notice – and will continue to. And tells us that after our loss, the need to feel our loved one around is important. And the need to be able to talk about the lost loved one becomes dire for the one(s) left behind. Our stories of grief contain an enormous amount of pain, often too much for one person to carry. By sharing our stories, we ease the pain – just a little. Survivor’s guilt kicks in for many, (I can attest to this). Elisabeth tells us, once you have loved and lost, you will never be the same. I’m already there.

On Isolation: “You were with someone, now you’re not.”

“The only way out is through it.”

“The trouble is that in grief, a moment feels like a year, and a year feels like an eternity.”

“Why do we find nothing unusual about talking to an unborn child in utero, but if we talk to the deceased, people might think we’re crazy?”

The most difficult job of all was packing up my beloved’s belongings.

Dr. Ross goes into how difficult holidays become for mourners. Birthdays, anniversaries, death anniversaries, Christmas, and the like will never be the same and are often marked with sorrow instead.

She offers ideas to comfort, such as writing our feelings, writing to our loved one to express what’s left inside us. Writing is a therapy for many.

“You don’t ever bring the grief over a loved one to a close.”

“There is no better or worse death. Loss is loss and the grief that follows is a subjective pain that only we will know.”

“To avoid the pain and the loss would be to avoid the love and life we shared.”

“Death is a line, a heartbreaking dividing line between the world we and our loved one lived in and the world where they now are.”

“Grief is the intense emotional response to the pain of a loss. It is the reflection of a connection that has been broken. Most important, grief is an emotional, spiritual, and psychological journey to healing.”

“The reality is you will grieve forever.You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal, and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you you have suffered.”

This book has been a comfort to many, as the almost 2000 reviews will state. Dr. Ross breaks down the process in bite-sized and life altering moments and helps us grasp all that’s involved in this grueling journey of grief in efforts to lay out what we can expect to endure, why, and how going through the stages take us into an eventual path to ‘healing’, which will never be a complete healing journey, but more about how to learn to live through and navigate the waves of grief that will continue to swell as long as we remain on this earth.

 

©DGKaye2021

 

 

 

 

Moving – Closure and Erasure, and #Grieving

I recently did the big move two Saturdays ago. It was a horrendous journey from the getgo. Barely two weeks had passed after my husband’s death when I was informed there was a one bedroom coming available in July. I probably wasn’t in my rightest mind, but I did know I didn’t want to pay exuberant rent living alone in the big place, so I agreed to take the early departure.

 

But before any packing could be done, I had to go through a lifetime of everything we owned. I had to downsize to at least half of everything – furniture, clothes, shoes, and other assorted big things taking up space. I barely had time to mourn over the seperation of the so many things that have been a part of my life, our life, for decades. But there was no choice. And there was barely a helping hand to help me sort out our life and condense it into boxes and smaller spaces. Trauma teaches us just how many are really in our life, and how many actually give a shit. I found out – not many.

I was referred to the clown movers by ‘a friend’ in my building. My good friend Vinnie had brought me over a large moving trolley a month before the move, telling me to use it to transport stuff downstairs as soon as I got the keys early. I did many loads and unloads, alone, and by the time moving day came, it should have been a four hour deal. Only, the mover guys came with no moving tools, didn’t bother taking a shower before coming to our air-conditioned building that was working overtime with some of the worst humidity from a temporary heatwave that hit on moving day, making the breathing more unbearable – even through a mask. These clowns needed me to guide and babysit them, so there was no way I could be down in the new place doing anything constructive. You may be wondering, so no, NOBODY came to help me on moving day.

After over ten hours of moving, scraping, dragging my furniture up and down hallways, I fired them at almost 9pm. My bones all felt broken, and I fell into a very dark place. It wouldn’t be until the Monday, two days later that the cavalry – my good friends Vinnie, Tonie and Alison showed up to help turn my place into a home. There were a few more visits over the last two weeks from my lovely friends, as everyone is busy and has their own life issues to deal with, but I learned a lot. And I couldn’t help thinking about a famous quote from Maya Angelou – “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.”

Through my journey of grief, I haven’t been working on a book, heck, I haven’t been writing regularly, but I have been writing. I found myself writing snippets of life and what I learned and felt through the days of my husband’s illness, through his dying days, and the emotional fallout afterwards that I continue to live daily. Late at night is when my inspirational moments of recall become crystal clear, and I write these thoughts down in one Word doc that will surely become elaborated on and condensed into a book – eventually – when I regain my balance and begin to stomach rereading the enormity of my life this past year. But in the interim, I will share snippets of my thoughts, here on my blog:

 

Closure Erasure

I scream at the top of my lungs when the pain gets too much. I have to release it or I may just spontaneously combust. Since the day you went away I have been running on auto pilot. From the shock of your death to making funeral arrangements, to burying you, to trying to swallow the five lonely weeks you lived from your death edict diagnosis.

The paper work, the banks, investments, will, and income tax to be done too, kept me in a tailspin between tears. Then, the last thing in the world on my mind was moving, yet, I knew I had to. We had planned to move in the early fall before we even knew how very sick you were. What I really wanted to do when you died was lay in bed with covers over my head, for however long I wanted to – days? Weeks? Who knows how long I’d allow myself. But it was as if you intervened when I surprisingly found out in gest there was a smaller unit in the same building. I truly believe you made that happen. But in the midst of the madness of preparing for this 180 degree move for me, it felt more like a total 360.

Life was a merry-go-round of fun, spontaneity, and love. We traveled, we laughed, and we loved, and we had a great life. Once again, I’m suddenly on my own and moving back to a one bedroom apartment, like I did when I left home at eighteen. Only then, it was exciting and freeing. This time it’s painful and lonely.

I’ve given all your belongings to your family, as I was forced to take on the ‘cleaning out’ process as half our stuff would not fit the new place. In the span of my life taking a 180, losing you, and clearing out our life, every picture, sock, piece of furniture, had me and you all over it. A monumental task that I still to this day, do not know how I had the strength to keep moving through while my heart is shattered. But I did. And often I felt I wasn’t even in my own body. Like some invisible force was keeping me going – like a friend calling to offer a hand just at the right moment -like my bestie Zan who still calls me twice a day from the other side of the world, because other than you, my love, there is nobody left living on this planet earth who loves me to nth degree and unconditionally, but Zan.

Erasure and closure everywhere I look. Bare walls embedded with leftover nails sticking out the walls from photos and mirrors now sold or packed away are what reflect back to me now. I think about how many homes we’ve built and sold and downsized each time, yet, we kept so much, like the huge two shopping bags full of every card for every occasion we’d ever given each other in our almost twenty-five years together. When I was getting rid of a lot of things, someone remarked to me that I should toss those bags too. I told her what they were and she remarked they’re no good to me now. Did you hear that? They are ever more important to me now. And one day, when my heart is ready to smile about our good times, I’d like to look back at those cards and smile in my heart again.

 

©DGKaye2021

 

“You’re allowed to change your mind about the people and things you want in your life. You’re allowed to adjust your values and preferences as you get older and wiser. You’re allowed to evolve and be a different person today than you were yesterday. This is your life.” ~ Unknown wordables.

 

 

Updates – This Extrovert is in Hibernation Mode #Health and Wellness

The last cliffhanger I left you with for my first 2021 post, my husband’s illness, my nonfunctioning leg, and our shower ceiling caving in, have been keeping me quite busy lately. The onslaught at everything coming at me has put me in introvert mode. I am 99 percent an extrovert and one percent introvert. When I get in introvert mode, it’s an introspective thing where I need to close myself in – not quite at the part where I’m digesting things and trying to find my way around what seems my new life.

When I get quiet, my mind is very busy. And until I can come to resolutions and/or acceptance I need to go within myself, not ready to share with others what I haven’t yet digested myself. So for those good friends of mine who check in with me daily and silently know that when I’m ready I’ll spill, thank you.

I feel right now my life is at a crossroads of many things – some I can’t peg, yet, I know are brewing, and some I’m having a difficult time facing. I don’t know if this past year was a catalyst for or if because of the isolating life we’ve been living alone together 24/7, it has allowed me to watch and be part of as my husband’s health issues persist. In a flash I seemed to have gone from wife to caregiver.

As I long for the days of Covid to pass so I can resume living, I’m just as anxious about when the time for living does come back. Because the living I’ve known for over 20 years now, is not and will not be the same. Since just before the new year, my husband has been accumulating fluid daily. This happened five years ago when he was first diagnosed with Cirrhosis of the liver. He was drained and put on two types of heavy-duty diuretics. One in particular was specific to pulling fluid from the liver area. The combo finally got properly dosed and worked well for the past five years. Then late last fall, a side effect of one of the pills, retaining too much potassium, was raising hub’s levels and had to be cut down. Thus the fluid buildup came back – except it’s not going away anymore so he’s now that guy who Dr. B told me about five years ago when I asked him if this fluid retention would come back. He’d told me he had patients who had to have a paracentesis every month, but maybe my hub would be luckier, I’d hoped. We had a good ride for five years, but now my husband has been going every two weeks for draining (Paracentesis). They can only get out approximately four of the ten litres he carries (we know by weight). Four days later he gains it all back. Last week I spoke with Dr. B and he’s moved the procedure up to once a week. We have to sign consent papers every time he has this done because of course the danger of inserting the long needle in his side with a drain tube, guided by ultra sound, done by a radiologist, has its risks. Today is drainage day again, thankfully.

My life has changed so much, considering there’s been no real living going on. Last February we were in Mexico, we came home mid March and the next day was lock down. My husband fell ill the day before travel home day, and life has been unwell ever since. Just like that, snap, our lives changed, during lockdown. My husband will not be going back to work of course, so I never got to experience that transition time from when he went to work a few days a week and loved to run errands, giving me my personal time. He always needed to be busy. So he got involved, voluntarily with some household jobs – emptying dishwasher and the many garbage cans. Then he’d take some garbage down the end of the hall to the chute, and the rest to the recycle bins in the parking level. It gave him something to do and he enjoyed it. I don’t enjoy it quite so much, but I’ve relieved him from his duties. The days before draining days he walks on a walker because his legs are like lead.

Current prognosis on past events:

So it took three weeks and various shades of yellows, greens blues and purples, but as of four days ago, I can walk proper without limping. I’m pretty sure I tore my calf muscle. It was painful and only a few days later the bruising was down my whole calf, ankle, and foot. I was using hub’s walker for over a week. So I guess there wasn’t enough excitement when I stubbed a toe bang on, precisely to the corner of the TV stand. I don’t remember feeling that kind of pain in many years. After sitting down and holding my foot for ten minutes til the initial throb wore down, I hobbled to the freezer door, below the fridge doors. I opened it and put my foot right among the frozen vegetable bags and stood there with the door opened for a good five minutes. It helped a lot. The pain was gone. The next day however, 3 toes and half my foot up were purple and I couldn’t move two toes. But, as of this writing, I have movement back. I am definitely blaming this shyte on Mercury Retrograde. Our shower was fixed and retiled almost two weeks ago, and we’re awaiting the new shower door. Until then, I’m grateful for the clear, shower curtain and temporary bar they put up for the meantime.

Two nights ago I had to call 911 as my husband slid to floor trying to get out of bed at 130am to go to washroom. I could not lift him for all the tea in China and was forced to admit my defeat and call for help. I realized my superhuman powers are limited after watching two EMS guys struggle to finally get him up. They were very kind and gave me some helpful tips  to help ‘seniorize’ things at home. They are also going to set up some help to come in a few days a week to help with hubby, so I’m looking forward to that part.

So yes, as you can see, there’s a lot I’m swallowing right now as my first priority is my husband, but in my head and as I witness my husband’s health decline, it’s all still so raw and very tough for me to witness and accept, as I’m having to learn to accept that things will never again be the way they were.

So that’s my update. I felt since I’d posted about the mayhem going on in my life, my readers at least deserved a follow up.

 

Never take life for granted for it can be snatched in the blink of an eye.

 

©DGKaye2021

bitmo live laugh love

 

Open Book Blog Hop – What Would You Do If You Had The Money?

Something a little different.  I visited my friend, Stevie Turner’s blog, where she shared a post she wrote as a blogshare for a Blog Hop. I haven’t joined the Blog Hop but I thought it would be fun to share an answer to this week’s Bloghop question Stevie shared on her blog:

 

Read Stevie’s post:

Welcome to this week’s Blog Hop. Today the topic is:

If you had unlimited money to start and maintain a business, what would it be?

 

I have to admit, I love Stevie’s ambition in her response to the question. And it didn’t take me long to think about what I would do with an abundance of time and money.

I’ve done a lot of fun and sometimes off the wall things in my life. I try not to have regrets and own up to the decisions I make then live with them. If I wanted something in life, I always went after it. I’ve been known to chase the impossible and come out victorious.  Then I settled into a different pattern of living and social butterflying after I finally broke my promise to myself that I wouldn’t get married. But after a few years of marriage, my antsy self needed a hobby.

In my earlier life, one of the careers I chose was to become a casino dealer. I followed my passion and thought about where I’d like to work and could enjoy my job. I went to dealer school and got licensed to become a blackjack dealer, then a poker dealer and worked my way up to pit boss in my days of working casinos. Besides the long hours standing on my feet and a sore neck and shoulder from years of dealing cards in regimented fashion, I loved the action and the social aspect of the job. I felt right at home as I’d grown up watching my mother and aunts play poker in our smoke-filled kitchen once or twice a week, and played Gin/Rummy since I was a kid with my paternal grandfather. I matured into a rather good card player.

With the advent of online poker I decided to join a poker site – okay, maybe two. I enjoyed playing tournament poker on our bi-annual jaunts to Vegas. Now I could play in the comfort of my own home. I didn’t play for high stakes but the tournament pots were healthy sized.

I probably had a good eight year run before I  began to apply and assert myself and start writing a book I’d be thinking about doing for years. I always wrote bibs and bobs and kept many journals for years. The writing bug took over and for the last eight years I’ve been immersed in the writing world. The poker tournament days evaporated once the serious writing began. And so that’s where the last of my careers will remain, writing. That, and taking care of my husband.

So, after my short biopic, and in answer to the question – what would I want to do with all the money and time at my disposal? Nothing, nada, zero. Oh sure, throw in lots of travel (when there’s no pandemic), but what I can honestly say is I’m quite content to write the rest of my life. The only thing I’d want to do with an abundance of money is “Waste away in Margaritaville.” Well, not really wasting away, vegging, but more like just taking in the beauty of nature, the sun’s rays adhering themselves to my body, and a daily margarita or two.

Give me the sun and warmth in Pacific Mexico. If I had oodles of money, I’d have no desire to get involved in starting up any other business. I’d remain writing because it’s part of who I am, and I’d hire virtual assistance to do the parts I don’t enjoy doing for marketing and such, and write at my leisure, be out on the beach daily with a book and an afternoon margarita. It doesn’t get better than that for me at this point in my life.

 

 

What would you like to do if you had access to a lot of money? Would you be eager to want to start a business and be tied to the time and gruel it would take to mature and beyond if you were middle-aged or older?

 

You can visit Stevie’s post and find out what she would do with the money:

https://steviet3.wordpress.com/2020/12/07/open-book-blog-hop-december-7th/comment-page-1/#comment-27082

 

©DGKaye2020

bitmo live laugh love

 

Edit Your Work and Don’t Forget To Edit Your Life

We as writers talk about editing a lot because it’s part of our profession.

But editing is something we also do in our everyday lives. We make plans that may have to change, so we edit and reschedule.

When we speak, we should think before we verbalize a typo, which can be corrected by apologizing and changing to the correct word.

We edit our lives when we delete things or people from our lives. We proofread important documents before signing them (or we should) to ensure we agree with what’ we’re signing.

A writer would never just throw a first draft into the world. A writer’s work needs a timeout, a timeframe to marinate in itself while the writer distances herself for awhile, so she can come back with fresh eyes and perspective on her work to edit and revise before it’s ready for the professional editor. It’s a process like life. We must edit our work like we must remember to make the edits in our life in the same fashion.

Like cleaning out our homes, every once in awhile it’s healthy to take a pause and take stock of what we have around us, in our homes, sometimes even with the people in our lives.

Decluttering is editing – eliminating. Perhaps a bad habit would be a good editing project to work on? Bad attitude? No problem, you can edit that too – if you want to.

Is there someone in your life who brings a black cloud around whenever in your orbit? Maybe it’s time to take a look at what serves your best interest. Does this person make you uncomfortable or shed negative vibes when in your presence? It may be time to assess and perhaps edit them out of your orbit.

Sometimes we get too comfortable with our life, habits and circles, and become a little complacent forgeting we’re in charge of our own life, and forgeting we have the power to edit.

If we aren’t satisfied with the story we’re living, we are the editors of our own lives. It’s up to us to proofread the story we live in and decide the changes we need to make to have our story reflect the life we want it to be by editing out the unnecessary words and characters that hold back our story to allow it to flow better and read the way we desire, to permit a happy ending.

©DGKaye2020

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Author Spotlight – Life Changing Moments – Creating my own Future by D.G. Kaye | Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Today I’m sharing my article I shared in Sally Cronin’s new series – Life Changing Moments, where writers share stories about pivotal moments in their lives. I share my story about my decision to go after a job I wanted that wasn’t advertised.

 

Smorgasbord Cafe and Bookstore – Author Spotlight – Life Changing Moments – Creating my own Future by D.G. Kaye

 

 

Welcome to Cafe and Bookstore Author spotlight.  I am inviting authors in the Cafe to share what they consider to be a defining moment in their lives that resulted in a major positive change. If you would like to participate you can find all the details: Author Spotlight – Life Changing Moments

 

The next author who is sharing one of her life changing moments is resident relationship columnist D.G. Kaye.. Debby Gies…At age 23 Debby decided that she needed  to take control of the way her career was heading….

 

Life Changing Moments – Creating my own Future

 

When I first decided I wanted to work in the hospitality industry, my intentions were to get into the Sales department end of the hotel business. Sales were my natural talent and how I made my living, selling clothes in both retail and wholesale, in between doing secretarial temp jobs in the first few years I moved away from home. I could never decide what I wanted to be when I grew up, despite my childhood wishes of thinking I wanted to become a lawyer or a journalist. With nobody inspiring me, I let the chips fall where they may many times in my life. When I got bored or more ambitious, I’d change jobs, and sometimes careers. Never being fired, I always left good bridges behind wherever I’d worked. But, as I was approaching my mid-20s, I decided it was time for a serious change of career at something that offered a better future. I checked the want ads in the newspapers back then, daily, and nothing appealed to me. So, I gave myself a week to sort myself out without pressure and focused on what would I like to do for a career besides just searching the ads for what was available. And then I took an old-fashioned approach and chased after a job I wanted to have and not just settling for any old job, and I landed myself in a serendipitous place.

What did I want to do next in my young and exciting life? At 23 years of age, I’d already had a busy resume. The eternal question stuck with me since childhood and through high school, when most kids had already mapped out a plan for their futures. What did I want to be when I grew up?

By this time, after working both retail and wholesale, I bounced around a few stores, always leaving on my own free will or businesses closing. My high school typing skills came in handy for the many temp office jobs I took on to get by in between my longer retail stunts. But after my last job in women’s clothing retail sales, I’d had enough. It was time to assert myself and get into something I’d really enjoy and possibly start a long-time career in something more challenging.

So, how does a girl get the job she’s after with such a busy resume? I had great recommendations and referrals, always left on good terms, good typing skills, good people skills, good organizational skills, all I needed was to choose something I’d be happy getting up for each morning and inspiring enough to go to work every day. I just needed a chance to get my foot in the door somewhere. I knew if I could just get the chance to present myself, my skills and willingness to work, matched with my outgoing personality, it would land me a job in a place where there was room to grow.

Despite my sorrow for leaving the clothing business, I knew that I’d be better off leaving it than having to face the constant daily temptations every time a new shipment of stock came in that had me calculating just how I could financially manage to purchase yet another article of clothing I probably didn’t need, but my passion for fashion just couldn’t do without. Those wholesale employee discounts were too tempting. And my finagling of finances on the ‘I’ll pay you for that out of my next paycheck’ was never-ending. I’d amassed enough clothes to last me till the next fashion trend change ten times over.

I took some time to myself and put some good thought into where I’d want to work next. I knew I wanted to work with lots of people, as opposed to the lonely life of salesgirl awaiting the next customer, so I could mingle more with people. Back in the early to mid-80s, there were quite a few shows on TV focused on hotels. One popular show fascinated me, titled Hotel. The show focused on the upper management and what goes on behind the scenes with all the fun events and people the hotels hosted, and something struck me after watching another episode. I thought working in the hospitality business would be the perfect job for me. But how was I to get such a job without prerequisites?

I stewed over my idea for a few days before finally sitting down and writing out the dreaded resume. I put every job I’d had on that baby, starting from my first job at 14 working Saturdays as a cashier at my uncle’s pharmacy. It was a gruel as I knew I’d only have one chance to make a good impression, so my resume had to appear professional, and until that time, I’d never needed one. All the retail jobs I snagged hired me on the spot with only asking for a reference or two. The typing/secretarial temp jobs I’d done, I’d gone through a headhunter who was basically just looking for good typing skills, which I’d passed with flying colors, thanks to my 90 words per minute typing speed I gained in high school.

I was a crafty girl, full of bright ideas and solutions. I knew for this big change I was going to have to come up with something clever to get myself in a hotel—somewhere.

My brain worked overtime as I continued to look through the newspaper want ads daily. Nothing struck my fancy, and there was nothing listed for hotels and hospitality except mostly food and beverage jobs and front desk staff. So, I decided I was going to try my approach. I couldn’t wait anymore days or weeks for a job as funds were running low, and I had rent to pay. I decided I wouldn’t wait for the perfect ad and planned to make up my own list of hotels I’d like to work at. I pulled out the old Yellow Pages Phone book and picked out a handful of hotels that appealed to me. I copied their addresses and phone numbers and planned to call each hotel that appealed to me and ask to speak to Human Resources, chat them up a bit and then ask if they were looking for any sales help. I was going to sell myself. At the time I’d called there were no vacancies for positions, but I always ended the call with asking if they’d mind if I sent forth my resume for them to keep on file should something open up. They all indulged me.

I completed my resume, drove over to my dad’s office and typed it up, calling attention to the HR folks’ names I’d spoken with and adding a little reminder for each of them about our prior conversations. It never hurt to refresh their memories!

Within two weeks, I received a few calls asking if I could come in for an interview. One of my top-choice prospects calls came from Robert in HR at the Carlton Inn Hotel in downtown Toronto—exactly where I was hoping to get a position. Robert informed me he was impressed with my resume and our chat, and mentioned that although I was hoping for a position in sales, he thought I’d fit the bill as a fill in for the position of Executive secretary to the General Manager, as the current secretary would soon be taking a year’s maternity leave.

Those good old temp jobs on my resume had paid off!

Best job ever! Within weeks I’d mastered the so called ‘computer/word processor’ typewriter. I was efficient, friendly, happy and complimented by my handsome boss and General Manager, Mr. V., for my speed and efficiency and handling disgruntled calls and letters from patrons. And my already large social life was about to grow bigger with all the new friendships (and sometimes unwanted attention) I made. It was the roaring 80s and staff parties, outings and game nights in the hotel lounge bar offered good fun and entertainment.

And did I mention my tall, fair, single, and handsome boss?

Me and my two bosses – J. Vaskas, General Manager and Ursala Fernandez, Executive Assistant Manager, office party

 

I was in the prime-time of my happiness in those days. A young woman living on her own with a prestigious job she looked forward to going to daily and a bonus of having the privilege of looking at and conversing with a handsome boss. It was just like the old movies I used to love to watch back then in the ‘Madmen-esque’ style of working environment. I’d met some exciting people, some longtime clients and patrons of the hotel—sports figures and some movie stars too. It didn’t hurt that the hotel was located directly next door to my city, Toronto’s, famed Maple Leaf Gardens arena where concerts and sporting events were held. Plus, I had a free permanent parking spot in the hotel which came in handy many times over when not working and having a golden free spot to park in downtown Toronto. Good times, great fun, great learning experience—and the money was pretty darn good for a girl who wormed her way in. . . Continue reading at Sally’s Smorgasbord

 

Source: Smorgasbord Cafe and Bookstore – Author Spotlight – Life Changing Moments – Creating my own Future by D.G. Kaye | Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

 

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