Posted in A Moment in My Life

“The Little Acts of Kindness in My Life”

A Moment in My Life – Friday, August 12, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Often, it seems I turn on the news only to hear about some violent crimes of hatred erupting in the world. Sure, there are scary neighborhoods in every city with enough ugliest filling the streets, adding fear to the old-timers who once felt safe walking alone. Then there are the scams that happen right under your nose in a supermarket where nobody cares, not even the staff. We can’t control all the bad things that happen. I never understand why people have to do bad things. Why do they have to hurt people, cheat them, steal from them, or whatever? Every action is a choice we consciously make. Realistically, we can’t and shouldn’t let fear prevent us from living. 

It is comforting to know life isn’t absolute. It’s not all or none. There is still love and kindness and good people out there. I grew up in a world where my sisters and I walked to our elementary school without supervision. Parents these days gasp hearing such a thing. But we must remember that life does continue as if nothing is wrong in the world. We should always be cautious of our surroundings, but we should continue to trust that there is good in people. 

It doesn’t take much to show a little kindness that makes all the difference to someone’s day. I can speak from first-hand experience about the smile that tattooed itself on my face while an exhilarating joy filled my core in response to the little acts of kindness I recently received. What makes it an act of kindness is that it was unexpected.

Did you know they have a wine merchant at Costco? I did not. While perusing the wine aisle looking for a small bottle of wine, I was intrigued by a wine from Italy that was on sale. I don’t know the top end from the bottom end of a bottle of wine, but this bottle fits my size requirement. A moment later, I returned to ponder the wine further when Gio, the wine merchant, who was dusting the bottles earlier, approached me and started a conversation. He punched up information from his device about the wine and read it to me. He gave me a lot of food for thought. For starters, it was a dessert wine that sounded yummy but was not suitable for my plan. Now, Costco typically doesn’t have service where staff assists you with products, so Gio gave me service above and beyond, which made my day. This wasn’t the first time I received terrific treatment at Costco. My Costco does have the best staff. Another time, the staff person rang up my purchases for me, and I was in the self-check station. Not something you would hear every day.

Last evening, after completing a big project, I decided to treat myself to the Red Lobster Throwback Thursday deal of the day. I’ve done that from time to time during the pandemic. Life is short. We have to treat ourselves once in a while. I didn’t expect the act of kindness from the server who handed me my takeout order. I asked him if I got biscuits this time. He gave me a questioning look. I explained that once, I didn’t get any biscuits. Immediately, without further ado, he said to wait for him right there, and he ran off, returning with a piping hot bag of biscuits and handed it to me. It didn’t matter that I had biscuits in my bag already. He was customer-focused and kept me a happy customer, and his act of kindness floated me the rest of the night. 

If you look, you will find acts of kindness like when my gardener trimmed my roses, cut a few stems, and left them on my porch for me to enjoy. Or, the secretary at my church bought an assortment of tote bags for an event, and there was one purple tote, so she saved it for me.

When the world is grumpy, impatient, and in a hurry, it becomes the norm to expect zombies from other cars on the road. Once in a rare blue moon, I turned and made eye contact with the driver in the truck to the right of me. So, I nodded and smiled, and to my surprise, he reciprocated with a big smile and a wave. I don’t know about him, but that floated my boat. Another time, I waited to pull out from the parking lot. Across the street from my metallic grey Veloster, a young man sat behind the wheel of a white Veloster that mirrored me, also waiting for the road to clear. I stared at him, and when we made eye contact, I pumped my thumb at him, and his face lit up, and he responded with a thumbs up. We smiled as we made our respective turns in the opposite direction onto the road. It is human to connect, especially with a common bond.

Whenever I see passersby on my daily walk, I always make eye contact, and mostly, not always, people are friendly, and we smile, wave, nod, and so on, and it brings such joy to my heart. It’s people that make the world a whole lot better. It’s people who keep the world going round. Just like the people in my FB world, who let me know they are out there and care by participating in my cyberworld. Their interactions add little acts of kindness to my day, which means the world to me. 

These people and there are more out there, probably don’t even know it, but they add to my happiness just by their kindnesses. As I said, we have to be cautious about our surroundings, but we can’t let fear stop us from living and enjoying our lives or trusting that there is still good in people. And with that said, I will end here so I can go and scope out the little acts of kindness in my life.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“I Can Never Go Home Anymore. And That’s Called Sad.”

A Moment in My Life – Monday, July 25, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

During the past few months, I took a hiatus from writing to deal with life. As a solo act, it won’t get done if I don’t do something. This realization keeps me on my toes and juggling tasks by priority. If you’re not broke, take a number and get into the long line. I won’t deal with you until your number is up. One of the tasks that became a high priority was my dire need to replace my modem. At five years of age, which was ancient by technology standards, I knew I needed to replace it one day but dreaded it. I remember the headache it was the last time we replaced it. We previously bought a modem and Mark, who knew what he was doing, installed it for us but not without problems. With Mark gone, I wasn’t so confident that I could do it myself.

Long story short, after a friend and an Apple phone tech, said they rented the modem from their internet provider, I decided to follow their lead. After all, if a tech guy thought it was a good idea, who am I to argue? 

While placing the modem phone order with Xfinity, I locked down a promotional deal for their highest internet speed at $17 less than what I was paying for their lowest speed. I did a happy dance with that savings. The rep also introduced their mobile service, reducing my internet total bill by another $30 if I bundled my mobile service with them. The timing was impeccable as I needed to upgrade my antiquated iPhone 6 since it had already stopped getting system updates a year ago. I put off upgrading my phone to avoid having to dish out the porky price that comes with the purchase. Being a red-headed stepchild with AT&T’s go phone division, I had no clout, but I had excellent phone reception that I could always count on. Nevertheless, except for needing a new phone, I had no complaints with my go phone plan. It served my needs.

Since Xfinity was so customer-focused on pleasing me, I decided to give AT&T a call and see what they could (or would) offer to get me to stay with them. Maybe I shouldn’t have had high hopes before making the call because my excitement shriveled with every word from the AT&T rep, who was disinterested in whether I stayed or left. 

My options for staying with AT&T were slim. If I want a new iPhone, I can have one for the total price upfront. If I preferred an installment plan, I needed to switch to their post pay service side; however, they would replace my current cell phone number with a new one in the switch. I refused to surrender my cell phone number six years ago, so why would I do that now? So much for that option. Knowing that AT&T’s strong reception is the only thing they had going for them, I asked what would happen if I left AT&T for another provider and later decided to come back to the AT&T go phone plan, and she said I could return but would get a new phone number. What is it with the new number thing? I don’t get it. Years back, I heard that they were running out of phone numbers. Well, here’s the solution—stop switching numbers. Maybe that would help. Alas, AT&T convinced me to leave that day.

Customer service-wise, Xfinity, has everything going for them, but reception-wise, AT&T they are not. Yes, I got my beautiful purple iPhone 12, just like I ordered it with my existing number, and I’ll own it in two years. I couldn’t be happier. Well, I could be more pleased if Xfinity’s reception matched AT&T’s. Xfinity is on the Verizon network, and now most of the people I talk on the phone with are on the same network; however, for those not, it is a challenge to get good audio reception on the call. Then there’s the Bluetooth reception between my phone and the car sound system that frustrates me. I always listen to music from Amazon Music or YouTube, which was never a problem. I’m still waiting for the reception to acclimate, or maybe it’s wishful thinking. In the meantime, it is annoying that every time and I mean every single time, I turn on the engine, the music pulsates or gurgles through a song before it smoothens out. I’m unsure if it would eventually smoothen out on its own since I impatiently help it along by turning the music off and on and off and on until the song smoothens out. I tell you, this challenge is an annoying pain in the butt. AT&T, I miss you because you never gave me any problems before, but you left me no choice since I needed a new phone but refused to pay for it upfront, and you weren’t accommodating.

Sadly, I am locked in with Xfinity for two years until I pay for my phone and fulfill the promotional deal. For now, it is what it is, and this is home. In any event, AT&T won’t ever be home again unless they change their rules and allow me to retain my phone number when I return. Otherwise, like The Shangri-Las’ song, “I can never go home anymore. And that’s called sad.”

Posted in Reflections

Globfly’s 43rd-Month Angelversary

Today marks Globfly’s 43rd-Month Angelversary—three years and seven months since he relocated to heaven on 12/17/18.

As I thought of Globfly, I got nudged to honor his memory with a homemade strawberry milkshake. Because it was such a gorgeous summer day, that’s what he would’ve made. Making it for him today put a smile on my face as I reminisce him standing right where I stood and observing him adding the ingredients into the Blendtec. Strawberry was his favorite milkshake, and NOM, it was so yummy. He would have approved. It was delish.

Cheers to you, Markie, a nice cold strawberry milkshake just like you liked it.

ALOHA. G!
ILYVVVVM. 💜🖖👊

Posted in Reflections

Globfly’s 42nd-Month Angelversary

Delayed Posting on July 17, 2022.

Today marks Globfly’s 42nd-Month Angelversary—three years and six months since he relocated to heaven on 12/17/18.

One of the things Globfly enjoyed was apple pie, and since today is National Apple Strudel Day, he’d be pleased that I am honoring his memory with apple pie. He wasn’t fancy to strudel. Fine by me.

Now, it wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t add my personal touch to this treat, now would it? Remember, I’m always looking (even now) for new goodies that Globfly might like? Guess what I found? Snickerdoodle ice cream! Yes! You read that correctly. Here’s the caveat, it isn’t regular ice cream but a compromise. (He was real ice cream. not me.) I would’ve dolloped it on and let him marvel over the Snickerdoodle flavor. Then after he smacked his lips and nodded his head, I’d move in for the win and reveal that it was “So Delicious” cashew milk ice cream.

Yeah, I know. The games people play. You have to admit. It works to get some folks to try something new. Globfly was a trooper. Sure, he’d resist, but he’d do it for me.

The bottom line was he relished Snickerdoodles. So, he would indeed enjoy this ice cream. It was my first time trying So Delicious ice cream, and People, IT’S DELISH!

Man, Markie, you would luv it! I know it! I owed you apple pie. You know I’d make good on it, eventually. So, here’s to you, Globfly. What better day than today to deliver, right? Happy National Apple Strudel “Pie” Day! Yes, hon, for you, I eat apple pie a la mode!

ALOHA. G!
ILYVVVVM. 💜🖖👊

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“It Took a Tumble”

A Moment in My Life – Monday, May 23, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Old habits are so darn hard to break. I keep working on it, and this is one of those areas where my success is one step forward and two steps backward. It doesn’t help that I’m always in a hurry. I have so much to do that I won’t run out of tasks even if I’m the Energizer Bunny 24/7. There are pros and cons to being energized. Pros are getting tasks checked off the list and feel good that I’ve accomplished something that will improve an area of my life. I can sum up the cons with an accident waiting to happen.

With accidents, you never know what, how, or when it might happen. That’s why they call it an accident. On Saturday morning, I had one of those so-called accidents when I moved a bit too quickly back up the stairs to my office. This time, I can’t blame it on the music piping through my ears distracting me. I was simply in a hurry to get back to my desk with my breakfast smoothie. I had two conversations happening online, multi-tasking with my morning writing. Words filled my mind, waiting to hit the page before I forgot them. 

In a flash, it didn’t matter what I was thinking. I forgot them when I landed at the bottom of the stairs with one slipper still on, and the other sailed away with the floor mat beneath me. My smoothie remained obedient in its cup like a torch in my left hand as my right shin kissed the edge of the second step, and my right forearm slapped the edge of the fourth step. Of course, they had to land on the edge where it would hurt the most. I took turns rubbing my shin and forearm, telling them not to stress out. I don’t know. It was wishful thinking that if I talked down the injured areas like a mother soothing a wounded child, it would lessen the hurt. It eased the pain, but not on my pinky, which got into the action somewhere between and swelled, reddened, and throbbed. That scared me. I repeatedly applied BioFreeze on it, took down the swelling, and lessened the pain.

My technique worked. There is no residue, not even a bruise, of my fall, but this wasn’t the first time I slid off that mat, and I’m sure it won’t be the last unless I make a change. This time, I seriously considered getting rid of that mat. It should be a no-brainer and an easy peasy thing, but it was not easy for me. Removing it meant letting go of a part of my life with my late husband, Mark, because it was a mat with a “D” on it, making it personal.

In the past, it would’ve been a no-brainer. I would’ve decided on the spot and told Mark that we were tossing the mat. Period. But today, I am feeling guilty for wanting to dump it. It was a gift from one of Mark’s judo students, making it harder to let go. I hem and haw back and forth with yay and nay. So, I removed the rug that morning to see if I could let it go. And, you know what? I didn’t miss it, and I liked not having a mat at the bottom of the stairs. To make it easier, I reminded myself that this was just a gift that we received, and we found a place for it—not something that Mark and I had chosen together. Had I told Mark my plan, he would’ve said, “Fine by me. No skin off my nose.” And with that, I finally felt okay to toss it. It’s just one small floor mat, but the act felt like a load off my shoulders. It was a step towards changing an old habit of letting go. You never know what might happen to orchestrate a necessary change until it happens. For me, it took a tumble.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“The Tennessee Waltz”

A Moment in My Life – Friday, May 20, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Just when I thought the past was buried and gone, never to be seen or thought of again, then Patsy Cline mournfully belts out her story of heartbreak. My fingers froze over my keyboard. My eyes stared inwardly into my mind’s eye as Patsy’s sweet voice deposited her sad story in my ears. 🎶 “I was dancing with my darling to the Tennessee Waltz. When an old friend I happened to see. I Introduced her to my loved one, and while they were dancing, my friend stole my sweetheart from me. I remember the night and the Tennessee Waltz. Now I know just how much I have lost,”🎶 and a choke tightened in my throat as memories unleashed an old familiar story from the dusty archive of my mind that I couldn’t ignore.  

It wasn’t “The Tennessee Waltz,” but it was a dance with songs like “Lady,” “Being With You,” “Woman,” “Slow Hand,” and “Keep On Loving You” that glistened under the disco ball. I happened to see my friend just like in the song, and I introduced her to my guy. Unlike the song, they did not dance. For some reason, she needed a ride home, and I did what a good friend would do. I begged my boyfriend for a favor. He didn’t say, but his face grimaced with displeasure. Yet, he agreed to give her a ride. Despite my gut feeling, I was delighted and grateful to have such a sweet boyfriend who would give my girlfriend a ride without complaint. He seated her in the backseat of his Celica hatchback and me in the front passenger seat. His unusual quiet filled the cabin with a dismal chill of silence that rendered me unsociable. 

To my surprise, my boyfriend drove me home first. I was too stunned and shy to ask why. Maybe it’s just me, but I expected him to drop her off first before taking me home. The clicks from my heels tapping on the ground replaced unspoken words on our brief walk to my door. We stood a foot apart and stared into each other’s eyes on the porch, searching for answers to different questions that never got asked. He leaned in and softly kissed my forehead and said, “Goodbye.” I watched him turn and walk away as if in slow motion, and the scene faded into the fog as they do in the movies. I have no recollection of what happened after that. I never heard from or saw him again. I have to give him credit that he did say, “Goodbye.”  

I saw my girlfriend in school from time to time. She didn’t have to say anything to confirm my suspicion. I knew. She smelled of his shampoo. We remained friends into early adulthood, but we never spoke about the elephant in the room. Eventually, we three went our separate ways. I say this because she married some guy I don’t know. And, you probably figured it out, she is not one of my BFFs. 

It’s sad. I can forgive pretty much anything, but I need words. I need to understand. Neither he nor she gave me the respect of answers, and that’s sad. It tells me a lot about their character. He was my first ghosting before I knew about ghosting. It would have been nice had he told me what wasn’t working, even if it were the dreaded, “It’s not you, it’s me,” or “I’ve fallen for someone else,” or “this is not working for me,” or whatever. At least give me the respect to know that we were breaking up and why instead of just saying goodbye. And now, I know just how much I have lost—nothing, unlike she did in “The Tennessee Waltz.”

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Too Many Memories”

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, May 17, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Not everybody likes purple. For years, I was a closet purple lover. Donny Osmond was the only person I knew who openly owned his love of purple. I love Donny, but I wasn’t brave enough to stand on this side of the closet door. Did it make it right or wrong? Who’s to say? There is no right or wrong answer to this color question or pretty much for anything else that requires a preference, including memories. Who has enough clout to determine what and how many memories we should have on this planet? 

I want to know. Why? Because someone asked me this question recently. He asked me when was the right time to offload his wife’s things that he had tucked away after her passing. I didn’t feel qualified to give him advice when I had everything of my late husband’s right where he left them. 

A couple of months after Mark’s passing, I met with my high school girlfriends, who, in their attempt to console me, one suggested that I needed to move away. My mouth dropped, and I nearly fell off my chair at the food court as I blurted out, “Why? Why do I have to move away?” She said because there were too many memories. Her words slapped me in the face. I had been fighting PTSD, which left me an empty slate. I struggled to recall the teeniest memories with Mark, jotting them down as quickly as the memory returned before they vanished again. So, hearing her suggest that there were too many memories felt like she punched me in the stomach and flipped my insides out.

That lunch was a learning one since I was the first widow in our group, and we were having our minted discussion of the kind. And, it made sense why she suggested such a disturbing idea. For her and her husband, death was final. Once the person is gone, they no longer exist. There will be no service, no burial, no pictures, or anything except a cremation. They will destroy any footprint of their existence, and there will be no mention of them again. Life moves on for the survivor. I left that gathering heavyhearted with a dismal sadness, but I finally understood why she did not attend Mark’s Celebration of Life. Her way wasn’t easy to fathom, but who was I to judge? 

There is no right or wrong way. We don’t have to agree, but we need to understand where we are coming from and bridge the gap. It is essential to communicate and share our feelings and thoughts, which helps to respect each other’s views. Some might want to forget all or select memories, while others don’t want to forget a smidgen of memory. Some people remove all personal effects even before the funeral.

In contrast, others tend to these months to years later or never at all. I’m glad there is no one-size-fits-all to address this. Same with mourning. There is a time to mourn and heal, but the healing needs to happen. It is imperative that we eventually move on and live and live fully. Life is not a dress rehearsal. Every moment we remain in mourning, we are not living. 

I told my friend that he would feel it when it was the right time for him. Until then, nobody decides for us when it is time to move on or that we have too many memories.

Posted in Reflections

Globfly’s 41st-Month Angelversary

Today marks Globfly’s 41st-Month Angelversary—three years and five months since he relocated to heaven on 12/17/18.

One of the things Globfly enjoyed was Taco Tuesday. I was oblivious, but he kept track. National Taco Tuesday isn’t until October 4th, but since Globfly’s Angelversary lands on Tuesday this month, I’m gonna make this Taco Tuesday. He would love it. 💜

Globfly, I meant to join you on Taco Tuesday one day, and I tend to keep my word. So, better later than never. Here’s to you, Globfly – Happy Taco Tuesday!

ILYVVVVM. 💜🖖👊

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Where Are They Now?”

A Moment in My Life – Monday, May 16, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

I’ve been nostalgic after my marathon phone chat with my BFF, who moved away from the bay area over twenty years ago. We talked and talked and talked as if there were no years between us, but we were catching up on our hectic week. That’s what close girlfriends do. The long chat made me miss her more. If we lived closer, we would most likely be popping into each other’s homes. Or we’d probably have each other’s key. Twenty years is a long time. The beauty of these years is when a friendship can survive the test of time. In this case, we survived the years, scheduling future marathon calls on our calendars. We also began planning a trip together. Oh, such exciting times ahead!

Thanks to Facebook, I reunited with my best friend from elementary school, and we are FB friends today. She is as beautiful a person as she was sweet when we were kids, and she has an equally lovely family—just having her in my life again overfilled my heart with joy.

Not all relationships resulted in happy endings, which got me thinking about some of the people from my past who made an impression on me, but we never saw each other again once we parted. Occasionally, they pop into my mind, leaving me wondering about them. 

In second grade, a little Italian boy named Luciano was not only oh so handsome, but he was extremely mature, intelligent, very well-behaved, and super polite and friendly. One day, Miss Roberts announced his extended absence due to a tumor growing in his brain. Tumor? What’s a tumor? I imagined a little tree growing out of his head. I never saw the tree or anything for that matter. Luciano never came back to school. A week later, he passed away. I never forgot him. I wonder what he would’ve been like today. I imagine he would’ve had more FB friends than anybody I know. I still miss him.

Suzie, the rebel in my fourth-grade class, scared me straight of any future wrongdoings I might have considered. Thanks to her constant backtalking that ended up with a leather strap across her bottom and tears streaming from her eyes, I never got into trouble. I wonder what became of her. I hope she used her rebellion for good and not for harm.

Remember when two team leaders chose players for their softball teams? I sucked at sports regardless and was always one of the last kids chosen when there was no other choice. Boys took their sport seriously, and some of them threatened to beat me up because I missed the ball. Out of nowhere, my hero, Donald, the tough guy with a soft heart in sixth grade, blocked the mean boys and talked them down, saving this damsel in fearful distress. As a kid, I didn’t know to thank him properly, but I never forgot him. I often wonder where he landed. I hope he is doing well. Maybe one day I’ll get to thank him.

Do you ever wonder about people from your past? I do. I get nostalgic and often think about them. I moved around growing up, which made it harder to stay connected, but I hold people close to my heart. Wouldn’t it be nice to reconnect with people from your past? I would love it, but I haven’t been fortunate in finding them, so all I have are memories and my curiosity that leaves me wondering, where are they now?

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Would You Want to Know?”

A Moment in My Life – Friday, May 13, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

You may have heard of the old proverb, “Curiosity once killed a cat,” which was intended as a warning to avert unnecessary curiosity. A quote from the movie Finding Forrester always pops into my mind. “It’s not a soup question,” which means you don’t need to know since it’s not personal to you (my paraphrase). I tend to be over-curious, but not enough to get myself into trouble, which leaves me hanging and wondering because it’s not a soup question.

The other day in my morning devotional reading, the subject of how much time we have left in our life surfaced. One thing led to another, and the next thing I read made the hairs on my skin shoot straight for the moon—a suggestion to check out deathclock.com, which is supposed to tell you your exact expiration date. Whoa! Like Gallagher would say, “Totally new concept!” How is it possible for anybody or any device to determine our D-date? Is it real? 

I wasn’t sure what to think or what to do at that moment. A part of me wanted to run as far away from my screen as possible, while the other part took it as an adult and did not let on that it made an impression on me one way or the other. Sure, I’ve been curious often, but that was as far as my curiosity goes. I did absolutely nothing about it, just like now.

It’s such a bizarre concept that I’m even nervous going near the link, fearing touching it and accidentally spinning the cycles toward the end of my lifespan. Honestly, for a 16th of a second, I considered the idea of maybe wanting to know. It wasn’t even wanting to know but the possibility of wanting to know. Then, the practical me woke up. 

What purpose does it serve to know? I could see learning the gender of an unborn child, which makes preparing for their arrival that much smoother. That’s logical and practical, saving on returns and exchanges and having neutral themes and color schemes and two lists of names. But what good would come from knowing the number of days we have left? 

If knowing my expiration date would spur me to achieve my life goals by D-date, that might be worth knowing. What if, however, I learn that I have very little time left, and there was no way I could accomplish everything or even anything? That would be depressing and a killjoy. But, the long and short of it, knowing me, the answer would not serve me well. Regardless of the amount of time on my dance card, I would internalize it and spend way too much of my precious time pondering the results instead of living my life fully and joyfully.

There was a time when I thought I would want to know. Contemplating the opportunity in my face, I realized I’d be better off not knowing and just living my life day-by-day, thankful to wake up to see another sunrise. It’s more meaningful to have the peace of living today as if there is no tomorrow while dreaming and trusting tomorrow will never end. In other words, enjoy life’s journey one day at a time with a heart filled with hope that anything is possible. In my opinion, it doesn’t matter the end date because some things are better left undisclosed. What about you? Would you want to know?