Sometimes I Save Plastic Containers

Sometimes I wish I weren’t me.

I see other people – better looking, smarter, richer, more popular, more loved – everything I think I’m not (depending upon the mood of the day, of course), and sometimes I’m envious.  Oh, I know I shouldn’t be, and ninety-nine percent of the time I’m not.  The “grass is greener” and one never knows “what goes on behind closed doors” and all that other cliché stuff comes to mind when jealousy and envy intrude. Sometimes, though, I am a bit jealous of others and what I perceive is their happiness. But who knows what their happiness is. Are they REALLY happy? Is it all make-believe? It is all a show?

Yes, most times I’m happy to be me. I’m not normally a jealous person; things “are what they are.” One cannot change destiny and fate; I truly believe each one of us is born into a pre-destined existence, but…

Things happen that I have no control over. Non-consequential things bother me for no reason; someone’s actions or mood affect me and MY mood. Sometimes I’m down and I don’t know why. Sometimes my husband’s moods affect me and, likewise I’m sure, my moods affect him.  Sometimes I drink too much, and that over-indulgence definitely affects how I act and feel. Lack of sleep puts me in a “mood,” too.

I don’t want to be unhappy and I shouldn’t be – and most times I’m not. I look out the window and know how lucky I am with my wonderful life, but still…things happen…sometimes…

I don’t know how to get out of a “mood” sometimes…

I’m not one to put on airs. I hate that. I am what I am. If you don’t like me, well, that’s your loss. Because you know what?  I AM a nice person. I could be your BFF, if only you’d let me. But, sometimes, you don’t give me a chance and then we pass by, like “strangers in the night.”

Sometimes I miss my grandchildren too much. Sometimes I try to NOT think of them, because if I think about them, then I miss them, and then I’m depressed. My husband and I are away for the winter and I haven’t seen them since early January, and I have three more weeks to go before we’re home. But, you know, I miss them when I’m home, too, sometimes, and those are the times I pick up the phone and dial their parents and ask, “Can I pick them up tomorrow and keep them overnight?” And, of course, they say yes.

My Little Darlings are only thirty minutes away when I’m home, but I still miss them. Not just sometimes, but all times.

So, even though I’m envious, sometimes – I still want to be me. I don’t want to be you or anyone else. Cause you know what? If  I had had different parents, if I had had a different upbringing, if I had lived in some other land, if I had been married to some other husband, I wouldn’t be ME. And if I weren’t me, I wouldn’t have had my terrific children, and if I hadn’t had my children, I would not have those precious little darlings who mean so much to me. Yes, I’m only their grandmother, not their mother or father, but still, sometimes…I want to be more. I want them with me forever, sometimes.

I think I love them too much.

And – sometimes – I save too many plastic containers. Then my husband is upset with me. “What?” I say. “They’re only plastic containers. Things to save leftovers in. You never know when you might need a container to save something in.”

And then I turn away and blow my grandchildren a kiss, even if – sometimes – it has to travel across the world. Cause I love them so much. And I miss them. More than sometimes- always.

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