Old dogs...

 Just 12 months ago I was looking forward to a really good year, convinced 2011 was going to be a game changer for me.
When Mom died the second week of January, I didn't see that as good. In fact, I went through a lot more grieving and adjusting and emotional reacting than I expected. On the other hand, it set me free. I could be me because there was no longer a parent around to tell me how to be, to comment, correct or commend/criticize (depending on their life views). That was unexpectedly freeing. So much so that I didn't know what to do with it for a long time.
2011 kept doing that. I spent a large chunk of time in close proximity with the ex for the first time since he left, and that was eye-opening and freeing as well.  I would never have picked Mom dying and seeing the ex as hallmarks of a good year, but here we are 12 months later, and I am different. Fundamentally.
 To my astonishment and gratitude, I've grown up--although I wasn't aware of it.
 I was at a friend's for a movie night last night and we were telling each other about our Christmases. Both of us had wonderful, family-filled holidays. As I was explaining how truly special it had been to be asked to sleep over Christmas Eve, and had woken up early (OK, the earliest of anybody in the house, too excited to sleep) and then spent lovely quiet time with my granddaughter...then the son and daughter-in-law got the coffee going and presents opening...the other grandparents arrived with more prezzies and got the turkey cooking with all the goodies...the wonderful meal...I had trouble explaining just how astonishingly comfortable and full it had been: I hadn't offended anyone, said anything unforgivable, felt jealous or paranoid or left out or taken anything personally...it had all been so peaceful.
 And my friend said, "That's called happiness."
OMG. I'm 66 years old and don't know what happiness feels like?
It feels great. It feels right. I like it...a lot. I'm just astonished my friend had to point it out.
 Take today. My son invited me to go for an adventure at the Olympic Park. He, his brother and his wife and I would ride a luge down the track, something I've always wanted to do. I was so excited that I put everything out to be ready. I calculated when I needed to leave and when to get up. I went to sleep with visions of exciting luge runs dancing in my head. I woke up at 5. Woke up again at 6.
And then I woke up at 8...exactly when I needed to leave to be on time.
Oh! The adrenalin. The fumbling. The swearing as I lept up, dressed and headed my car for the rendezvous at light speed. Oh! The adrenalin, the fumbling, the swearing when the red and blue lights swung in behind me. Unusually for me, I quieted.  I could do nothing to right the wrong. I would be late. I would not ride a luge. I would have a ticket on my record. And I still had a 40 minute drive to get there.
I spent it examining why in the world I would make myself late for a date I wanted hugely to keep. I had realized in the past year that making yourself late only causes stress, bad hormones and anger and was inconsiderate, rude and hostile toward those waiting for you. So why was I now inexcusably late and causing angst to my sons and daughter-in-law, who would wonder where I was since I had forgotten my cell phone in my rush to the car.
I decided I am not stupid or worthless, as my parents said. I sometimes make bad choices. Like being late. I decided I have a little girl inside me who resents being told what to do (by her parents) - even by her more mature self. Even when it's something she wants to do. So she put obstacles in the way and argues with her rational self when she says it's time to go, get up, leave.
I decided it was time for that little girl to grow up. I don't want to be inconsiderate, stubborn, defensive and intractable any more. I could shut her down. I am an adult, it was time to stop being ruled by childish choices.

Getting ready to luge.

When I arrived at the track, I was thrilled I was in time to take photos of them going down the run. I grinned and hugged them all. I invited them to breakfast where we had fun catching up and got a group photo, compliments of the waiter. They were impressed I hadn't bored them with a blow-by-blow excuse of why I'd been late.
2011 has been a game-changing year for me. Not in the ordinary or expected way, but in a way more satisfying one. It's never too late for old dogs to learn tricks.
Like what happiness is.
Yahoo :)