For the longest time I was a "homemaker" in the very literal sense of the word. I made the home. Certainly not on my own and definitely with the help of others, but that was my job and was what I did. My life evolved around my home, my children, my husband, those who lived with us and my faith.
As a consequence of this I rarely spoke to people outside of my world. Every once in awhile I would run into someone I had gone to school with downtown and they would ask me where I was living now. When I answered, "Here, Astoria." They looked at me in disbelief. Where had I been? Were hubby and I still married? I was always a little amused that I could be living in the same small county with my friends from school, yet see them more often in Portland than around "home".
As I said, I rarely spoke to people outside of my world. When I did get out and about it was almost in desperation that I would yak away to another adult that I wasn't related to. Discussing things that didn't have anything to do with raising teenagers, constructing curriculum, figuring out agendas, answering letters, it was bliss for me. For the other person, YIKES!
Face to face was okay. You can see the person and know how to gauge yourself. If they looked pained I was talking too loud, or too passionate, or about something that was uncomfortable for them. Pre-teens pretty much talk about anything, adults - not so much. Ending conversations was always hard, too. They were always done and ready to be on their way loooong before I was. Which was awkward for both of us. My inner voice would be telling me, "Just say GOOD-BYE, let the person go," but on and on my mouth would babble.
I recognize the illness when I see certain people coming towards me who have pre-teens and teens, now. I chuckle and take my lumps and let them talk. Some people were nice enough to let me babble on and really saved a kid's life when it was much too early for me to have to go back home!
All that said, sometimes when I am tired or weary I find myself slipping back into those old habits where I spent so many years of my life. Those years when the only ones I talked to on the phone for weeks and weeks at a time were family. Thats right, no one else. Not even a bill collector! Just family.
We are in the middle of our fast now, the period of time when Baha'is the world over contemplate the spirtitual and from sunup until sundown refrain from food or liquids. By about 4 pmish, my brain is pretty much mush. I cannot gulp enough coffee before the sun comes up to sustain me for the day. And even though I "do" vitamins and eat good protein breakfasts 4 o'clock comes and my brain goes away, and I am on automatic pilot.
Do I know this, for sure? Ummmm, yeah, I do. Yesterday I finished a phone call with a business associate. A very important business associate. After I hung up my mother asked me who I was talking to, I asked why? She said, "Was it someone in the family?" I replied no, going over the conversation in my head I couldn't see how anything she would have overheard would have given her that impression. I was very definately talking business.
"Why would you think it was a family member?" I asked her. "The fact that you said, 'mmmBye-bye, love you' at the end sort of indicated it was family," she replied.
NO! NO! NO! I did NOT say that!
YES! YES! YES! You did, she replied.
Why would she tell me? I had obviously said it and couldn't take it back. Why tell me now, so I can writhe in agony at what the person thought when I concluded our business talk with, with, THAT!
I sat in appalled silence for a solid five minutes. And then came to the conclusion that I can either jump off a bridge or pretend like it didn't happen. I hate hieghts and would be giving too many people satisfaction if I jumped so I am pretending like it didn't happen. And if YOU are reading this, I'd appreciate it if you pretended it didn't happen, too!
As a consequence of this I rarely spoke to people outside of my world. Every once in awhile I would run into someone I had gone to school with downtown and they would ask me where I was living now. When I answered, "Here, Astoria." They looked at me in disbelief. Where had I been? Were hubby and I still married? I was always a little amused that I could be living in the same small county with my friends from school, yet see them more often in Portland than around "home".
As I said, I rarely spoke to people outside of my world. When I did get out and about it was almost in desperation that I would yak away to another adult that I wasn't related to. Discussing things that didn't have anything to do with raising teenagers, constructing curriculum, figuring out agendas, answering letters, it was bliss for me. For the other person, YIKES!
Face to face was okay. You can see the person and know how to gauge yourself. If they looked pained I was talking too loud, or too passionate, or about something that was uncomfortable for them. Pre-teens pretty much talk about anything, adults - not so much. Ending conversations was always hard, too. They were always done and ready to be on their way loooong before I was. Which was awkward for both of us. My inner voice would be telling me, "Just say GOOD-BYE, let the person go," but on and on my mouth would babble.
I recognize the illness when I see certain people coming towards me who have pre-teens and teens, now. I chuckle and take my lumps and let them talk. Some people were nice enough to let me babble on and really saved a kid's life when it was much too early for me to have to go back home!
All that said, sometimes when I am tired or weary I find myself slipping back into those old habits where I spent so many years of my life. Those years when the only ones I talked to on the phone for weeks and weeks at a time were family. Thats right, no one else. Not even a bill collector! Just family.
We are in the middle of our fast now, the period of time when Baha'is the world over contemplate the spirtitual and from sunup until sundown refrain from food or liquids. By about 4 pmish, my brain is pretty much mush. I cannot gulp enough coffee before the sun comes up to sustain me for the day. And even though I "do" vitamins and eat good protein breakfasts 4 o'clock comes and my brain goes away, and I am on automatic pilot.
Do I know this, for sure? Ummmm, yeah, I do. Yesterday I finished a phone call with a business associate. A very important business associate. After I hung up my mother asked me who I was talking to, I asked why? She said, "Was it someone in the family?" I replied no, going over the conversation in my head I couldn't see how anything she would have overheard would have given her that impression. I was very definately talking business.
"Why would you think it was a family member?" I asked her. "The fact that you said, 'mmmBye-bye, love you' at the end sort of indicated it was family," she replied.
NO! NO! NO! I did NOT say that!
YES! YES! YES! You did, she replied.
Why would she tell me? I had obviously said it and couldn't take it back. Why tell me now, so I can writhe in agony at what the person thought when I concluded our business talk with, with, THAT!
I sat in appalled silence for a solid five minutes. And then came to the conclusion that I can either jump off a bridge or pretend like it didn't happen. I hate hieghts and would be giving too many people satisfaction if I jumped so I am pretending like it didn't happen. And if YOU are reading this, I'd appreciate it if you pretended it didn't happen, too!
