Author: zuftruth

Finding things to criticize about myself has been an easy exercise for as long as I can remember. I rely on others to offer encouraging compliments and then brush them off as being undeserved. Suddenly, it hit me. How can I possibly expect anyone to have something positive to say about me, when I had nothing good to say about myself? In an effort to change that, I’ve listed the top five things I like about yours truly.

I can’t hold a grudge. Maybe I shouldn’t advertise that…. But the fact of the matter is, I can’t stay angry with anyone. I’ve been that way my entire life. I can be insulted, lied to, stood up, you name it … and as long as the act of treachery is followed by kind words I’m willing to move past it. For the longest time I saw this as a weakness, something I even tried to change. I realize now it’s an advantage. Holding on to negativity only hurts one person, and I get to live my life free of that.

I’m a speed reader. I may not have a photographic memory but I’m able to fly through quite a bit of content in a short amount of time and retain what I need to. This skill has saved my butt more times than I care to count, especially given the fact that I’m a known procrastinator.

I have a deep sense of empathy. I make it my mission to understand where someone is coming from and I pray the day never comes when I don’t stop to put myself in someone else’s shoes. We’re here to help each other, not judge. If everyone could practice a little more empathy, I think the world would be a far better place.

The whole world is my dance floor – literally. There’s no holding back when I hear a song I like (and there are plenty). No space is off limits. The car, the street, the coffee table (depending on my blood alcohol content) the treadmill… which I don’t really recommend doing if you’re as uncoordinated as I am. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think I’m a great dancer. The reason I like that about myself has nothing to do with the level of skill I possess, or lack thereof. What I like is that I’ve taken the motto, “Dance like nobody is watching” and turned it into, “Dance like EVERYONE is watching and you just don’t give a shit”.

I can admit when I’m wrong. I am well aware that I make mistakes. I’ve been making them for 30 years and I’m doubtful that I’ll be stopping anytime soon. I can, however, take ownership of my wrongs. I won’t say something overly sentimental like, “every mistake is a learning experience” though many are. Some mistakes are JUST MISTAKES. The important part is that we admit them and move on!

Now.. it’s YOUR turn to make a list. I bet when you give it some thought you’ll find a whole lot more than five reasons why you’re pretty damn awesome… and the next time you find yourself in the midst of a pity party, pull that list out and remind yourself of who you really are.

Both of my parents came from large families… but with most of my father’s siblings still living in Italy, my mother’s family of 5 girls and 4 boys were the base of our social circle. My aunts and uncles first emerged as playmates and soon became mentors and protectors, always wanting the best for me and doing anything they could to help me achieve it. I remember being in Grade 1 and having a conversation with one of my classmates about her uncle. She told me she only had one. ONLY ONE!? Up until that point in my life, I had just assumed everyone was blessed with countless aunts and uncles and cousins. I hadn’t realized how lucky I was.

Fast-forward twenty years to the birth of my first nephew; a living, breathing reminder of what makes life incredible. I’ll never forget the moment my brother’s text with his photo popped up on my cellphone while I began my workday. From the second I saw that little face, I knew I’d do anything to make his life a happy one… that I would be there for him the way my aunts and uncles had been there for me. The challenge I faced then and still face today is one of distance. Living across the country from my brother’s family has made it nearly impossible to be the positive force I promised myself I’d be. Now, at three and a half years old, he’s the very picture of innocence. He’s just learning what the world is all about. As I stood in the airport with him today, preparing to give him a goodbye hug and kiss after a month long visit, I felt a lump in my throat start to steal my breath. I was suddenly taken back to being my nephew’s age and preparing to say goodbye to my Aunt Chrissy. Notorious for crying during goodbyes, my Aunt Chrissy was one of the few of my mother’s sibling who didn’t still live in our hometown. As a child, I’d hug her tight but I could never understand why she would cry. Didn’t she know we would see each other again? Well, as I held my nephew close and let the tears stream down my face, I saw that look of bewilderment that used to cross my own face wash over his. All I can say is, I FINALLY GET IT. Time doesn’t work the same way for children and adults. As a kid, it was enough to know that I would see that person again. I didn’t have to know exactly when. As an adult, all I can think of is every little moment I’ll miss… how many things he’ll learn about, how many challenges he may have to face and how he may be too big for me to pick up the next time I see him. I guess when it comes to goodbyes, practice doesn’t make perfect. The more experience I gain, the harder they get.

What makes a wedding special? Is it the flowing white dress? The freshly arranged flowers? The perfectly coordinated tableware?

As a chronic cry-baby watching the bride come down the aisle, for me, that’s the moment that defines the day. It’s not just how beautiful she looks after hours of prepping. It’s not her choice in music or how well she times her two step. From the moment the entire congregation stands to witness her walk, the whole atmosphere pulsates with love. Love for the bride. Love for the groom. Love for what appears to be a fairy tale unfolding before us.

That aisle, long or short… inside a church or down a sandy beach, is a journey in itself. If I could offer a piece of advice to the future brides out there; pause for a minute before you begin that walk. Look out at the faces of all your friends and family, think about all the steps they’ve been there for before this moment. From first steps, to big steps, and likely a few missteps along the way…

Smile,and remember, as you face your future anxiously waiting at the end of the aisle, that they’ll be with you every single step of the way.

At the ripe old age of 18, I graduated from high school and set out to begin my never-ending university career. I was one of the few of my group of friends who would be staying at home and attending our local university….. and it devastated me. Years later, I’d realize that leaving town would have robbed me of spending time with my father during the last years of his life (So you see…everything does happen for a reason).

At the time though, beginning a new adventure with the same city I’d lived in my entire life as the backdrop seemed anticlimactic. Despite that tantrum, here I sit, ELEVEN years since the start of that chapter, in a house only two streets over from where I was raised. Every morning I get up, seemingly before the rest of the world, to walk my German shepherd, Bruce, before work.

Each day I set out on foot into the familiar neighborhood, and every time I do, I marvel at what it brings me.

I walk past the homes of my grade school friends – all long since moved out. I see their faces, young and full of the easy joy that only children radiate so brightly. I pass the site of my first kiss and I congratulate myself on having good taste even then. I laugh as I easily climb the hill that used to give me so much trouble on my hot pink bike. I brace myself for the barking of the dogs that scared me when I’d accompany my brother on his paper route. I say a silent prayer as I pass the childhood home of one of my classmates who was killed in a tragic mining accident (an all too frequent occurrence is this city), remember what a beautiful person he was, and hope that his parents find the strength they need every day to face the world without their son. Finally, I circle around my own childhood home, where my mother still lives today. I look into the large backyard, half expecting to see my father standing out there with Tavie, our family dog who sadly now rests right beside him in the cemetery. At first, it makes me sad…. But then, I can only feel grateful. I don’t know anyone who gets to experience mornings the way I do. In just a twenty minute walk, I cycle through a lifetime of memories. Good or bad, they’ve brought me to today. They remind me of who I wanted to be, who I am, and who I stand to be, if I just let them pave the way.