True Confessions of an Overthinker

The tiny, hunched-over, age ninety-something woman was struggling. She had some food in front of her, but couldn't eat it. She needed assistance. That was a scene I'll always remember from my brunch date with my husband last Sunday. My heart had been heavy that previous week. First, a child from our area had tragically drowned on Memorial Day. I didn't know her or her family, but the news of her loss was all over the local news and social media. I had been reminded daily of the shocking sadness. Then we all learned that more innocent lives were destroyed in London. To be honest, it was upsetting, infuriating and depressing, but not shocking. Then I thought "This type of horror happens so often that we aren't very surprised by it anymore!" Dismay. Double-whammy! On top of  all that, I was carrying the burden of a grudge around with me. I knew it wasn't good for my health, but I just wasn't ready to lay it down yet. That's not tragic, but...

The little red-haired girl (not Charlie Brown's crush) woke up about six every Saturday morning. Although not fully awake, she would pitter patter to the bookshelf, collect all of her Dr. Seuss books and put them on the bed. Then she would prop her pillow up against the headboard, get back into bed and pull the blankets up to her waist. The wee reader would lean back against that pillow, get comfy, then place the stack of books on her lap. She'd breathe a contented sigh and think "No school today! Hmm,which book do I want to read first? 'Hop on Pop'? Maybe 'Are You My Mother?'". Her favorite one was 'Fox in Socks'. She was in first grade. That ginger child loved school and was always a good student. Well, that is if you don't count Math. For some reason, reading, spelling and writing just came naturally to her; but division, fractions and algebra were often a struggle. She would dream of what she wanted to be when she grew up...

The tiny dark-haired infant was cold and wouldn't stop crying. She had a soaking wet shirt and needed her diaper changed. The poor child was very hungry too... You might think that this two month old girl had been neglected. But she was in that pitiful condition because her grandmother was babysitting her. Wait! That doesn't sound right! Especially since that grandmother was me. I'd happily accepted the opportunity to spend time with my youngest grandchild that evening. I had stayed with her only one time previously. Everything had gone very smoothly that first time. In fact, I loved it! Baby R. was sleeping peacefully in her little portable bed when I arrived. I just watched her doze. What a gorgeous child! She started stirring a little after about ten minutes, so I went to prepare a bottle. There were many clean bottles and nipples on the kitchen counter. No problem. There were a bunch of short fat ones and one tall skinny one. I assumed that she usually us...

If you are reading this, you are on social media. You probably watch TV too. It can get so discouraging to read and hear  ugly attitudes  being spewed   too   often! Criticisms about appearance, clothing, social status. intelligence level. The self-appointed judges usually hurl those rocks at people they don't even know personally! Forget politics for a minute. I'm just talking about day-to-day life stuff. Here is a true (supposedly) story I read recently on a discussion forum. The woman who shared it said that she and her female friend were waiting to be seated at a restaurant. She heard someone behind them say "Oh &*%#! We will be here a while. It will take a lot longer for fatty and gimpy to get seated!" Yes, he was referring to her and her friend. In her post, she acknowledged that she was a heavy woman and that her friend was using a walker. They ignored the man, but she was suppressing the urge tell him off. She wanted to inform him that she'd be...

I'll bet my title got your attention, didn't it? What is Di up to now? I've been thinking about judgment for a long time. I've been considering how we all judge others but we hope that others won't judge us. It's fairly normal to make assumptions about people based on what we initially see, read or hear about them. We do this before we know all the facts. That doesn't necessarily make us bad folks, but I think it's important to stop and realize that first impressions might be inaccurate. You've probably heard the saying "Never assume, because when you do, you make an ass out of u and me.  I watched a lot of TV when I was a child. Like many kids, I thought it would be wonderful to be beautiful, rich and famous someday! When I got a bit older, I realized that even beautiful celebrities committed suicide sometimes. I don't know why that realization is such a significant memory to me, or how old I was when it happened. But it...

One time there was a crazy woman who took seven little girls and one boy to a theme park, without any other adults to assist her. The youngest child was a toddler, the oldest was about thirteen. A few people watched the procession of tots with raised eyebrows. The looney lady thought "I'll bet they think all these kids are mine!" (Most of them resembled each other quite a bit, after all.) But she didn't let it bother her; she laughed it off. She didn't have time to worry about it anyway, because she had to do frequent head counts of her touristy munchkins. That daunting but fun excursion happened about seventeen years ago. The children of various ages were my six nieces and my two kids. The adventurous aunty/mommy was me! When I look back on that day, I think we resembled a group of ducks waddling (?) from one exhibit to the next, Mama Duck led the way, little ones in the middle, older kids at the back, helping keep track of the ducklings. I've ...

I felt as if my chest was being compressed and my throat was closing as I stood at my kitchen counter. It was physically painful to hold in the desperate sobs that so needed to be free. I remember parts of that Christmas day clearly, even though it was eighteen years ago. My children were ages eleven and eight. They had been through enough sadness and stress since the previous April. That was when their grandmother (my mom) had died from complications of cardiac arrest. It was important to me that they have a joyful Christmas. We had already opened presents that morning and I was trying to get the food ready for dinner. But I felt that I couldn't breathe. The grief was so very heavy! It was tangible, almost like a large brick on my chest. I had received a CD for Christmas that I'd requested. The artist wrote and performed a song about losing her mother. I escaped to another room to listen to my very emotional song. As the music started,it felt as if that bri...