She likes to Motivate People to TRY - episode 85
For By Request this week we have My Linh as our guest. She has some very deep profound wisdom to drop on us today. I’m still reeling from the way she framed her nugget of wisdom. My Linh wants us to put the effort in to loving ourselves because it’s worth it, we’re worth it.
Is it just me or does My Linh sound like Isabella Rosellini? There is a depth and a richness to her voice so it is a compliment. I was mesmerized listening to her share with us the role she played in her family and how it helped form who she is today, taking all that happened and becoming the best version of herself she could. I admire that in her.
Adamant. Courageous. Soft.
— My Linh
Time to Say Goodbye
Thoughts from She likes to Motivate People to TRY
My Linh brings up a great point about trying. It’s giving something a shot. I’m reminded of the Wayne Gretzky quote, You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. And it’s true. Really, what do you have to lose? Nothing. And maybe everything to gain. Or at least something to learn from and that is not a waste. Ever.
Insert smooth transition here. 😉
I want to pay tribute to a woman, Pam. (Technically my stepmom although I was an adult when she and my dad married. I wrote about her in episode 67 It’s in the Little Things.) She passed away on Sept. 1 after 4 years of fighting cancer. We honored her this past weekend. I had never seen my dad cry and let me tell you it was a heartbreaking experience to see him so vulnerable. It’s real, grief. He will heal. It will take time.
Here is what I said at the service:
I get to be the closer.
I met Pam shortly before she and my dad got married in December of 1980. She was quiet, shy and yet I knew there was more to her than that, of course, as my dad chose her to spend his life with. (Now my parents had been happily divorced for 18 years. No hard feelings there.)
Fast forward 17 years after Pam and dad’s wedding. My husband and I go through a heart-wrenching time of losing our infant son. Now, this is not about me. Yes, that was hard. What I want to focus on is what happened after that. The countless gifts that came after the pain. Truly one of the very best things I was given was a very close relationship with Pam. I think she finally felt safe to share who she was with me. We became close. Very close. We talked often, shared stories and encouraged one another.
She was one of the most caring, thoughtful, faith-filled women I’ve ever known. And I had the privilege of sharing a slice of life with her.
Let me share with you the gifts I received from her:
Pam gave birth to an additional family member, Matthew who is two years younger than my son. That’s how we roll in our family, unconventionally. I love Matthew, we have a very cool connection.
The way Pam loved my dad. So completely. They were one, and it showed. I will forever be grateful for their unity, and steadfast dedication.
She and my mom, Cheryl, were friends at every family function, and there were many – genuinely warm and affectionate with each other. As you all well know it doesn’t always go that way. I thank them both for that grace and loving example.
Pam was known as “Grammy” and went to each and every play my kids were in, driving long distances without complaint, enjoying supporting them in their endeavors.
Every birthday, every Christmas was filled with thoughtful cards and a handwritten note of love and encouragement. And she remembered our deceased son’s birthday too, every year, reminding me she was thinking of him, and of me.
You see we were both grateful for the gift of our friendship that was formed after he died.
Another gift is, I rest in the knowledge that they are together right now. It brings me profound peace. It makes me happy.
And the final gift is this interlude of being without them, is not forever. We will all be together again.
It’s the now that is hard. Missing her. And that’s about me, about us. For she is, finally, pain-free and whole. How could we not celebrate that?
Thanks Pam. For being you. Can’t wait to see you again…
If you want to be happy, be.
— Leo Tolstoy
