Gerald "Gerry" Tate

Gerry would have been thirty-six years old today. He was a son, a brother, a grandson, a nephew, a cousin, a friend, a boyfriend, and my first love. He passed away on March 9th 1997 at the age of twenty-two. I think about him often, and I wonder what his life would have been like had he lived. I thought that we were so grown up already (I was also twenty-two at the time). I look back now, almost fourteen years later, and I realize how very young he was, how very young we both were, and how much of life he has missed and will continue to miss. At the time, I remember thinking of all the things he hadn’t done yet. He hadn’t jet-skied, hadn’t gotten married, hadn’t had children, hadn’t finished college, hadn’t traveled much, hadn’t decided what he wanted to be when he “grew up”. So many things I know he wanted to do and his time here was cut short. I think of all the Christmases he's missed, all the family holidays and birthdays and celebrations. And I think about how much the world has changed, all the things that are a part of daily life today that he never experienced, that didn't exist or weren't widespread yet in 1997 . . . the internet, cell phones (especially smartphones), digital cameras, iPods, Disneyland's California Adventure, all the new music and movies of the past fourteen years, public figures that are a cornerstone of our world today. Despite the fact that we were not a couple in the months prior to his passing, I knew he was out there somewhere, living his life, and if I wanted to get in touch with him I could have. It gave me a sense of security and peace to know he was out there and ok and reachable. I miss that.

I wish I could have talked to him one more time. I wish I could have told him that I loved him still. That even though things weren’t working for us, I still had hope, and believed that someday we would be together again. That I had so many wonderful, beautiful memories of good times, memories that I cherish to this day. That I loved him like I had loved no one else. He was my first love and for many years I thought my only love. I’m grateful for the time that we spent together because it taught me what it feels like to truly be in love with someone. Sometimes it was painful and dramatic and unpredictable, but most of the time it was glorious and passionate and overwhelming and beautiful. I never thought I would feel that way about anyone else, and even though I was very sad about that I felt so very blessed to have experienced it at least that once. At least I knew what it felt like to be completely in love with another person, and to have that love returned. I would tell him now that I am still devastated that he is gone. That I will always love him. That he changed me in so many ways and helped shape the person I am today. He prepared me for the true love I have in my life now, and for that I cannot thank him enough. Who knows what would have happened had he lived. Would we eventually have gotten back together? Gotten married? Had children? I don’t know. But I do wish things had turned out differently, very differently. I would have been so happy to hear that he had fallen in love and gotten married, finished college, had a job he loved, traveled, lived.

It seems like I am having a harder time this year than usual. I am so very sad, but I am also angry. I am angry at him for leaving. I am angry that he didn't try to prevent this. Why didn't he go to the hospital and get help? They probably could have saved him. He could still be alive today, enjoying life and experiencing so much joy. I am mad at myself that after all these years I still carry this pain and sorrow, this empty place in me. It hurts and I want it to stop. I am embarrassed because I'm with someone I love with all my heart and soul, shouldn't I not feel this way about Gerry anymore? Why do I? Why does he haunt me? The past couple of weeks Gerry has been a character in several of my dreams, and I have felt irritated that he is still there bouncing around in the back of my mind. If I had looked at a calendar, I might have put it together that his birthday was coming up. Maybe I feel this way every year, and then work diligently to forget how painful it really is. I’m not sure. But I felt I needed to write it down.

Even though writing this is hard and painful and makes me feel hollow, I feel like it’s time to let it out. Maybe I’ve been holding it in more than I realized, and need to face it and feel it and experience it so I can let go. Sometimes I feel like it’s wrong to still be this sad and miss him this much when I have been married and divorced and am now very happily coupled with the love of my life. So I ignore it, stuff it down and pretend that yes it’s very sad, but I’ve moved past it. I have moved on, certainly, but I don’t believe I’ve truly moved past it. I hate to admit that, but I think it’s probably the truth. I miss hearing him laugh and watching him dance. I miss laughing at him and his sister Tanna play-wrestling and play-fighting with each other. I miss his passion for drawing and music (even if I didn't always like what he was listening to). I miss his sense of fashion and his lack of fear. I miss listening to the drum and cymbal sounds he made using only his tongue and mouth. I miss the glorious time we spent at Disneyland together and how protective he was of me. I miss how it felt to be hugged by him and how he smelled. I miss how I fit perfectly under his chin when we hugged and how my hand felt in his. I miss falling asleep on his shoulder and watching him paint my toenails. I miss holding his hand at the Christmas Eve service and watching him open presents. I miss seeing his face light up when he smiled.

I can’t believe it’s been almost fourteen years. Sometimes it’s so powerful and raw it feels it’s only been a month. Sometimes it’s so much a part of me that it seems like it’s been a lifetime. So much has happened to me since he passed. Looking back, it gives me perspective to see how young twenty-two really is compared to how old I thought I was at that age. I wonder if I will feel the same way in another fourteen years, how “young” I was at thirty-six. And how much more life and experience Gerry will have missed in the years between thirty-six and fifty. I will always be sad that he passed away. I will always miss him. And I will always hope that he knew how much I loved him.

Happy Thirty-Sixth Birthday Gerry. I miss you. . . .

Exercise Restart

Today I restarted my exercise program. I have not been exercising much for the past month. I had some issues in September that I allowed to stop me, but I should have only taken a week off. Well the week became ten days became two weeks became way too long. I did walk a few times on my afternoon break at work, and a couple of days I used the treadmill at home. But it certainly was a far cry from how well I had been doing. For about a week now I have been feeling the motivation to get started again. I was all geared up to start last Monday, but something seemed to happen every night last week that got in the way. That is when I decided to start walking on my breaks again. At least I could do that, and not much "happens" to get in the way at work. This afternoon I felt the desperate need to get out and DO something, so I returned a book at the library, went to Wal-Mart, and most importantly started taking photographs for the Web Album I set up last week (see at http://picasaweb.google.com/118412076507433432326). I drove around and took snapshots of places I love to go for eating, shopping, relaxing, or having fun. I took more pictures than I realized, and I had a great time doing it. I am thinking of so many more things I want to photograph for my albums, and I can't wait to get going. When I got home, I was all jazzed up from my photo session, and I thought "This is it. I have the energy and before it dies down I am going to change into my workout clothes and walk." And I did. And it felt great. I can't wait to do it again tomorrow. I wish I hadn't missed a month, but at least I am getting started again. And on the flip side, I missed ONLY one month. In the past I have skipped months, sometimes years before I would get started again. I hope in the future when I get stalled for one reason or another, because it will happen again, that I only stall for two weeks. And then only for one week. And then only for a couple of days. I hope that I can learn from this experience that I am not a total failure when I miss a few days. It's just a bump in the road and when I recover I just get right back up and keep going. This is another place where my "embracing the gray" should help a lot. It is not all white (exercise EVERY SINGLE DAY) or black (if you can't do it every day then give up). Life is gray. Things get in the way . . . physical ailments, migraines, girls night out, volunteering, pampered chef/candle parties . . . life. Life happens and sometimes I just won't get to exercise. That is not failure, and I do NOT need to give up just because I missed day or a week, or even a month. As my dad would say, "When you fall off your bike, get right back on and keep riding." Love you Dad ♥

Embracing the Gray

I am an all or nothing person. I am not good at living in the gray. I feel uncomfortable living in the gray. I prefer black or white. Success or failure. Right or wrong. Yes or no. Good or bad. And while this means I generally know exactly what I think or feel about something (good), it is also a harsh way to live (bad). It’s very unforgiving . . . to others and to myself. There is no middle ground. If I haven’t one hundred percent achieved my goal, then I am a failure. If I think I can’t do it all the way, why even start? I miss out on all kinds of experiences because I am afraid I will fail. It even affects my blogging. I need each entry to be perfect. No half-ass blogging. Which translates to not very many entries because I am too tired, don’t have enough time, can’t think clearly enough to write coherently. And then I am irritated with myself because I am not blogging as often as I would like to. I keep thinking, tomorrow I will make time. Tomorrow I will sit at my new writing desk (which is now piled with junk mail and magazines and who knows what else) and write a profound, funny, thought provoking blog. But tomorrow comes and goes and no new blog. I can’t just sit and rattle off something, whatever thought is currently bouncing around in my head, short and sweet and leave it at that. It’s just not good enough.

I am an obsessive person. I decide on a course of action, and it dominates my thoughts. For instance, when I decided I wanted to move, I focused on one particular place I wanted to move. I studied the city. I read about it on the internet. I looked at housing and employment. I checked out colleges, theaters, restaurants, shopping, art, culture, and anything else I could think of in the area. I thought of all the reasons I want to move away from where I am now. This is not a recipe for happiness as moving can take months if not years to achieve. All it did was make me even more unhappy here, because I was focusing on how GREAT it would be to move there and all the things I don’t like about here. Additionally, if I can’t get where I was planning to go in the amount of time I thought it would take, I get frustrated and stressed out.

I have obsessive thoughts. Once a thought pops into my head, I often have a hard time getting it out. Food is a great example of this one, generally junk food that I feel I MUST have right NOW. The thought circles around in my head until I feel like I will go crazy. I want the candy bar. I shouldn’t have the candy bar. I won’t feel any better if I eat the candy bar. I will feel guilty if I eat the candy bar. It’s not good for me. I will gain weight. It’s expensive. But I want that damn candy bar. Nothing stops the thoughts better than eating the candy bar. Then starts the obsessive shame thoughts. Shame on you. You didn’t need that. You shouldn’t have eaten that. The whole day is ruined now (more of that all or nothing thinking). You’re never going to lose any weight. Well, if you’ve already blown the day, why bother to exercise? In fact, why not run over to the market and get Ho Ho’s and chips and a soda? If the day is already ruined, why not live it up? You can always start over tomorrow.

Obsession touches every part of my life: money, weight loss, cleaning house, work, relationships, yard work, photography, blogging, planning, dreams for my future, and this list goes on. I have a hard time tackling small pieces of a project. I want to complete the whole project at once, or why start? I am not good with “baby steps/one step at a time”. This makes weight loss and debt reduction extremely difficult because you can’t lose a bunch of weight and pay off all your credit cards all at once (unless you win the lottery and since I don’t play I doubt I will be winning any time soon). It truly even makes keeping the house clean and the yard nice pretty difficult. Because you really have to have a large chunk of time and lots of energy simultaneously to achieve such a feat all at one time. It’s best to tackle one room at a time, or even one corner of a room or one drawer. If I could do this, I could probably clean out lots of junk I don’t need and de-clutter my life. But I really have a hard time only completing part of a task. I need to be able to break the large task down into smaller tasks and see completion each individual task as an end unto itself, and as success. For instance: tonight I will clean out the top drawer of my dresser. That is all. And be ok with that. Then another day I will clean out the second drawer and so on. Same with the yard. Today I will weed along the side of the house. That’s all. Not weed the front. Not mow the back. Not trim back the nasty berry bushes. Just weed the north side of the house. And completion of that single task equals success.

Embrace the gray. This is something I really want to try to work on. I feel that I have lost so much time in my life, that there are so many things I wish I would have done, hobbies I wish I would have had 15 years ago. But I can’t go back. I can only start with today and go forward. I hope to spend more time taking pictures, blogging, washing my car, playing Frisbee golf, and less time thinking I don’t have time or energy to do those things “right”. If all I have time for is a brief blog about my day, or a few photos of my yard, or vacuuming the car, or half a round of Frisbee golf, then that’s perfectly ok. It’s better than not doing it at all.

Lost

I've been feeling lost lately. I'm even dreaming about it. Last night I had this dream where I was in a big city, wandering around lost. Lots of cars and city streets and confusing freeways and stoplights and trains . . . very overwhelming. All the street corners looked the same, each one with an glass enclosed metal stairway to a second floor train platform. I had parked my car somewhere and gone on foot, using the trains. Apparently I hadn't paid any attention to landmarks or anything at all aside from the train stairways, and because every corner had this glass and metal staircase they all looked the same. I could stand and turn in a circle and all views looked the same. After traveling the city for awhile I realized I was lost in this big place. I needed to get back to my car. It was going to be dark soon and I didn't know where I was or how to get back to my car. I was trying desperately to get back to my car but couldn't find it. It was vital that I find my car . . . I can't remember why, but I do remember that I really needed to get back to the car. I feel vaguely like there were important things IN the car and also it was my place of safety and power. If I could just get back to the car, I would be OK and would be able to find my way home. The longer I looked for it and couldn't find it, the more anxious I got. I didn't know if I was getting closer to or farther away from my goal, or was I going in circles? There were other people there, trying to help me, but it was no help. Should we split up or stay together, keep going or give up? There were dark tunnels that I had to fumble my way through alone, pushing on even though I was scared. There were also busy, people filled areas but those local people were no help because I didn't know what to ask for. I wasn't familiar with the city, the streets, the buildings, and I didn't know where I had parked the car so I couldn't just say, "Could you tell me where such-and-such street is?" I felt completely alone and afraid and panicky. Even though a couple of people were trying to help me, I wasn't getting anywhere. One of the people trying to help me was my boyfriend. We got separated – he stayed at the last train station I had been in when I went searching for the car – and even though we both had cell phones I couldn't call him because I couldn't figure out how to use his new phone. I feel like the dream was so full of symbols. Lost, wandering, losing my drive (car), everything seeming the same no matter where I look, people all around but feeling alone, feeling hopeless and ineffectual (not being able to use the new cell phone). I woke up from this dream feeling profoundly upset and scared. It took me several hours curled up under the covers to feel semi-normal enough to face the day. It's amazing to me how much a dream can affect my waking state, even though my logical mind KNOWS it wasn't real. The emotions stay with me anyway.

I feel like the dream is tied to my life lately. I really want to do something different with my life, but I can't seem to get anything going. I'd like to move to a new town, like to lose weight, like to start being more active and social. But I don't seem motivated. I have no patience for waiting for things to unfold. I just WANT. IT. NOW. I am working on this obsession with "getting it done now" and instead trying to enjoy the journey. There is something to be gained, learned, enjoyed, experienced in every step along the way and if I rush through everything (or get scared and panicky like in my dream) I will miss a lot. I guess I need to accept that the first step is having a seed of desire to try something new, and I do have that much. For now I want to try to enjoy the time I do have here, my childhood home, where my friends and family are. Amazingly, there are lots of things I still haven't seen and done here even though I have lived here all but two years of my life. For now I will try to make my goal enjoying this area, seeing it as though through the eyes of a visitor or new resident. The way I imagine I will probably see the new place I will move to someday. I will explore, take photographs, journal, and enjoy this place I have called home for 35 years. Being satisfied with where I am is a choice. It means choosing to see the good, fun, beautiful things I have here. It means choosing to really SEE the town when I drive to work, the grocery store, or Wal-Mart. It means engaging with people here, friends, family, and strangers. Being satisfied does not mean I have to give up my dream of moving. It doesn't mean that I want to or will stay here forever. I can be satisfied and happy while yearning for an adventure in a new town someday in my future.