Angry at You

It's amazing to me the number of people in this world who don't understand that anger is an appropriate emotion. Yes, anger is a feeling -- like jealousy, loneliness, fright or dread -- but it's an insight into a deeper relationship.

People can annoy me or hurt my feelings for the moment. True anger comes from a deeper place. It pulls on love, friendship, trust ... and someone letting it go or letting you down.

I refuse to participate in an angry discussion that includes name calling or how I might have let you down 20 years ago. (They just escalate to tit for tat.) I have no desire to go on Oprah or Dr. Phil to resolve personal relationships gone awry.

One of my observations about love and friendship is that the true, part-of-my-heart relationships withstand this. It's expected. If I've let you in to my experiences and feelings, chances are we will disagree at some point. Another observation is men don't do this very well. Women say, "I can't talk to you right now but I'll get over it."

Supposedly, hate is the opposite of love. Anger is a partner of love. It says, "I care enough about you to express my feelings and I think our relationship can handle it."

60 Excess Pounds

Remember when Oprah lost a ton of weight on that liquid diet? Then she carted a wheelbarrel of fat on the stage to show the significance. Like several million other lemmings, I was watching and I was enthralled.

I've never needed to lose gobs of weight. Occasionally a few pounds here and there. Nothing extreme because my vices are different. Not right; just different.
But, I do know what it's like to carry 60 extra pounds. See mine above. (Yes, this is the dog pillow I drag from room to room.)

My office chair is on wheels and I've been scurried around. I've put a leash on her and been dragged through the neighborhood.

The Belle loved her. They used to play ball and of course, I was constantly terrified that she might knock her down. Hangdog has no use for her. (Maybe that's why he isn't living here.) My dad likes her. My mom is in constant fear that she'll bang into her bad knee. And trust me, she will. I like to freak my mom out and say, "I'm coming over and I'm bringing the dog."

My girlfriends are very loving with her. Most of them have big dogs and they have lived through the puppy stage. I think Houseboy might want to adopt her. His wife and sons have taken incredible care of her.

The husband pretends to hate her but he's not fooling me.

One More Day

Yes, I watched Oprah yesterday and yes, her show is the inspiration for this post.

If I had one more day:

I'd work out with the girlfriends.
I'd drink coffee and compete with the husband on the crossword puzzle.
I'd turn off the alarm clock and snuggle up.
I'd talk to my mother ten times and my father once or twice. (He's not as talkative.)
I'd do at least one thing to help the oldies.
I'd listen to my favorite music.
I'd put peanut butter in the maniac dog's Kong and crack up while she digs it out.
I'd call or email my girlfriends and my aunts.
I'd fall on my knees in prayers of gratitude.
I'd touch photos of the children and send them silent wishes.
I'd curl up with the husband after listening to him play the piano.

Oh wait, I do all of this almost every day.

Mitch Albrom's book, For One More Day, was the topic of the show. It's about a man who receives the gift of one more day with his deceased mother. They've made it into a television movie.

So, I started to think about this. If I had to pick one person who is no longer with us and I received the gift of one more day, who would I choose?

I'd love one more day with any and all of my grandparents.
I'd love one more day with my Uncle Ken.
I'd love one more day with all the pets I've lost.

I've got to be honest. I want one more day with my friend, Patsy.

Who would you choose?