Optimism is my choice.

Since starting 52 words, I have barely written anything else. I have started a few posts but haven’t finished them because since I started 52, I worry I won’t complete it. My follow-through has not been the best the last several years so every-time I sit to write, I feel like it has to be on my project….. and then I end up blocked, the word becomes the hardest word ever invented, I am never gonna finish, and I hate the word…. Focusing on just the positives is impossible for me, and I know it. It’s my goal to be an optimist, but I come by my pessimism very, very legitimately. My Gramps was an optimist but Gram was a pessimist, and I spent a lot of time with her. As much as loved Gram to the moon, she instilled many of her vices in me during childhood. She had a very cold, unhappy childhood. She lost both parents at a young age, grew up poor and hungry while pining for her daddy and hating the baby brother that took her place. I can’t even remember now how old she was when he died, but she lost her mom in child birth or infancy (my memory is sucking a big one this morning), and her older sisters helped raise her. I wish I could remember all the tales about them she used to tell… like my Aunt Goldie being Fred Meyer’s first employee in his home’s basement where he kept his stock and a small store-front somewhere in Portland. I am pretty sure another sister was a hooker or groupie, but I don’t know if I ever met her. The last sister was a “dingbat” and Grama was always annoyed with her for silly things she did….. And she was always somewhat indifferent to her little brother, Bobby- even into her later years. She had a fairly unhappy childhood by her accounts. Gramps, on the other hand, was an eternal optimist. They balanced each other well, and when I was little they explained it to me. Grama always told me I wanted to be an optimist like Gramps, not a pessimist like her, but….. Having spent so much time with Gram, I have so very many of her traits. I have been a pessimist my whole life, taking on the lasting grief she had for her dad, and putting my gramps in his place. Then one day, I found myself in a relationship with someone I love very much, but he is also a pessimist….. Two pessimists together is not a healthy combo. We both expect the worst from life and – low and behold- it manifests for us every time…. So I guess it is up to me to become an optimist. I have known for a while I need to make this transition, and its part of the reason for 52 words. I think a project like this can help you stop time the way meditating does: the power of the pause, taking time to think about something you wouldn’t normally think about, then writing about it. My gramps found his power of the pause through photography, nature, and riding his bike. I know it was not always easy for Gramps to remain positive; Gram was a little spit fire who was hard to handle, I’m sure (I did inherit this trait from her, as well). Gramps was a WWII vet, and he did see combat. On his ship, he was a gunner, and they took fire more than once. He was a golden glove and an Olympic level marksman; he had a stellar service and was a true hero- which you know had to come with painful memories. This was back when there was no PTSD, but I know when he was about my age, he went through something (Grama told me everything when I was young… all info I’m glad to have, I just wish I had acquired it at a more mature age). Gramps never spoke of his service, it was Grama who told me. Gramps was more interested in focusing on the now. Gramps found his power of the pause, and damn it, I am going to find mine. My gram never really found hers; she washed it away with whiskey…. That didn’t work for me. 52 words is forcing me to pause. I’m only 7 words in, and I know if I can follow through with this project, it will affect my life in a profound way. My gut tells me it’s teaching me the pause, it is making me a better, more thoughtful person. I can add more to my plate and, maybe more importantly, handle it. I’m worth it, both Gramps and Gram instilled that in me…