As I grow older, I find myself talking with someone and begin to realize that I have dominated the conversation.  I don’t recognise that this is happening until I have been doing it for a fairly long time.  And then, I feel really bad for my behavior.  If I realize it soon enough, I can apologize right away.  But if I don’t, I may not have the chance to do so.

I never set out to monopolize the conversation.  It just happens naturally.  Or, so it seems.  It’s a quandary.  Talk about being unaware!

Honestly, I can’t understand why people don’t take me aside and tell me.  I must have a knack for talking to very kind people.  I certainly don’t deserve to have people suffer my ramblings, and then not say anything about it. 

Maybe people see that I just can’t seem to help myself and they don’t want me to feel bad.  I do have some of the best friends a person could even wish to have.  It’s a blessing that I cherish.

Truly loving another person requires the acceptance of that person, warts and all.  I can understand that.  I do accept other people as they are.  At least I have that part right.  A good relationship requires both parties to be respectful.  And I can be a very good listener when I need to be.  Being there for another person is one of the ways we show love and respect to the people we care about.  And I truly believe that we should treat one another as we want to be treated.  That’s why it’s called the golden rule.

I really do hope that I am not going to get worse. Being unable to see what I am doing, even after the fact, could make me unbearable.  So, I am counting on my friends to tell me and help me.  Because, sometimes I talk too much!

When I am out in public, one of my favorite things to do, (when I get the opportunity) is smile at babies.  They don’t always smile back, but when they do, it’s such a wonderful feeling!  It’s especially fun if they interact with you by waving their little hands and moving their tiny fingers with excitement.  I call these sweethearts “live ones” because they are so lively!

I always ask permission to move closer to them, especially if they are in strollers and I have to bend my knees to face them.  I never touch them.  We just interact with smiles, and sometimes, if I am fortunate enough, with laughter.

Smiling at babies is a sweet and simple action that we often cannot do with people of other ages.  In fact, often that is not even possible with babies.  As adults, we are wary of strangers when we have children, and rightfully so.  We are living in a time when being a respectable person is not a given.  And  there are many good reasons to be wary of strangers.  I just happen to have a non-threatening appearance, for which I am very grateful.

I often think about how difficult it must be to be a big man, and sometimes because of his size, be scary to children.  Being a short woman with a big goofy smile can be an advantage.  And I appreciate that very much.

But, as to the act of smiling at people in general, I just happen to be blessed in that I look harmless and I am harmless.  Average looks, short in stature, with a large-mouthed smile add up to being a person that people generally find trustworthy.  Being trustworthy is not something I take lightly.  And one of the many reasons I feel this way is because smiling at babies makes me happy!

Has anyone ever told you a lie?  How did it make you feel when it was proven to be untrue?  Surprised?  Confused?  Or maybe you thought they were just joking, even if you didn’t find it funny. Whenever a person lies to you, doesn’t it make you feel  betrayed or at the very least uncomfortable with him or her?  Can you trust this person after this happens?

Trust is very important to me.  If I am lied to, I take it as a sign of disrespect, to say the least.  Depending upon the situation, it can even be much worse than that.  The truth always matters.  Always.

Now this doesn’t mean that a person won’t say something untruthful or misleading once in a while. What I mean is that sometimes a person doesn’t know the whole truth. But, if it is heard by word of mouth from someone they know and trust who believes it to be true, it can be shared and hurt someone’s reputation.

There are habitual, even pathological liars. If a person lies on a regular basis, that person is untrustworthy, regardless of the reason why they do it.  A person who behaves in this way is incapable of being a true friend.  One cannot truly care about another person, if truth is not a “given” in the relationship. This is especially harmful if a “so-called friend” spreads rumors about him or her.

A lie is not a joke or an excuse.  Before a person is sworn in as a witness in a trial, they must promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  A lie in that situation is breaking the law. So, telling a lie is a betrayal to a friend, a breach of confidence or “libel” in the law, and a sin in religions and faiths.  Lying is just, plain WRONG!  No more needs to be said.

When we moved to California in 1982, our daughter Mary was almost 7 and Seth was 5 years old.  We didn’t know a lot of people very well yet, but we went to the library every week because it was fun and free and educational to boot!  The librarian’s name was Mrs. Helen Vaughn.  She was so welcoming and helpful.  It didn’t take long for us to get to know her.

She was such a lovely woman and we became close to her.   We asked to come to our house for dinner.  She told me that it would be too difficult because she was allergic to so many different foods.  So I just told her to make a list of the things she couldn’t have and I would avoid those foods.  She agreed.

She was the first person we invited to our house.  And the kids were so excited.  I can’t remember what we had for dinner, but she loved it and we had a good time.  The kids may have even performed for her.  They loved to do that. We did a lot of singing in our house and they could have sung for her or acted out something they made up.  I don’t remember. But that doesn’t matter.  She was becoming a part of our family.  We already loved her, just from going to the library.

Our bond with her grew and she became a grandmother figure to the kids.  It was so good for our family to have her in our lives.  And I know she felt the same.  It showed in all of our interactions.  We included her in school activities and all of the special occasions of our lives.  She even gave me a part-time job at the library with just the right amount of hours to fit my schedule.  She taught me many things.  We loved her and she loved us.

When we moved back to Indiana, we wrote back and forth.  And so our lives continued to intersect.  (She had the tiniest cursive handwriting and I was the only one of us who could read it.)  When we went back to California for a visit, she picked us up at the airport. 

We continued to write, but less frequently as our lives were so busy as the kids got older.  And then, when she hadn’t corresponded for a while, I tried to find out why, and she had passed away.  She must have been in her 80’s by then.  She wouldn’t tell me how old she was, so I couldn’t be sure.  But up to the end of her life, we were still connected by mail.  She was our California grandma and we were so blessed to have her in our lives.

The longer I live, the more I have witnessed that time flies, even when you aren’t having fun.  It may not seem that way at times, especially when one is going through a terrible trial in their life.  But even then, (at a later date) one realizes that time passed very quickly, just as it always does.  The only thing that changes is our perception of it.

I have always found this difficult to understand.  Just add it to the list of the many things in that category!   But the passage of time, and our perception of it, has always been mercurial.  As much as it is difficult to understand at times, it is also interesting to me.  That the same word(s) or concept(s) can be used in describing opposites seems incongruous.  But that’s English for you!  And I love it!

I often think about the passage of time because, as I grow older, I think about the conversations I had with my mom in the last 2 1/2 years of her life.  We spent days together at my brother’s house as she recuperated from a bad fall.  My brother and sister-in-law were still working, so I was there with her every weekday.

We always talked about how fast the time went!   Everyday we said the same thing.  “Where did the time go?”  This was because we were always busy with the exercises she was supposed to do, eating lunch together, watching reruns of “The Waltons” and finally reading books together.  The time always seemed to fly!  Everyday we would say, “Where did the time go?”  Of course, it flew!  We were having fun.  I will always treasure those days we spent together.

It flew then, and it still does when I am with my family and friends.   But even when I am sick in bed or out running errands, doing mundane things at home or paying bills.  Time just flies even when you aren’t having fun.  It just does!