One of the things I promised myself I would do (actually, it's more a wouldn't do) this year is have 2 Facebook-Free days each week. I set aside Tuesday and Thursday (eventually I'm hoping to have complete Social-Free days (as in social media, not being social and seeing/talking to people)). I remember way back in 2007 saying "I'll never have that facebook; I don't need that kind of thing in my life" and here I am, 12 years later, trying to ween myself off it. I hate it, hate everything about what it has become (I loved it at first and in concept it's a great idea), yet somehow it now contains my life and the people I share it with (some of whom I'd rather not!!).
It's the place I can go to interact (visually) with my family and friends dotted about the world. Before facebook those interactions could only be done with a phone call that cost a small fortune, or via letter, which take days to get anywhere (I do still have some friends I write to - there are some things I'd like to never see go out of fashion; there's something about the joy or receiving a letter from someone). I don't have to wait until I see those friends/family next to be able to enjoy photo's of their travels, or their kids growing up (when the family are abroad and you cannot get to see them you can miss out on so much). That is why I still have facebook. That is a good part to it, but there's also a darker part to it, and that's what I don't like.
Anyway; I've complained about social media (a lot) before so let's move away from that, something I have done on a Thursday and Tuesday so far this year - kind of, although I got confused with days and forgot on Tuesday of this week, but made up-for-it by not going on there yesterday. Go me :)
Actually, not being on there yesterday was hard for me, because it was my Dad's birthday, and I always post a status to remind people how he's no longer here for us all to share in my birthday and to keep the memory of him alive. Then I remembered; it's not about anyone else remembering him. It's about me remembering him, so in-a-way I'm glad I failed on Tuesday and stepped away yesterday.
Had he still been alive he would have turned 76 yesterday (he died aged 49, the age I currently am - yes, I did find it much harder than I thought I would turning this age because of his dying). I spent a lot of yesterday wondering; would him and I still be as close as we were? Would my life have worked out differently if he'd still been alive? (the answer to that question is most definitely "Yes"). Would he have got grumpier as he got older, or chilled out and relaxed a little more (he had a really stressful job and wasn't always the happiest of people). Would him and Mum have stayed in the same house, or moved away like he always said they should do? I actually imagined him buying an old coach and doing it up into some kind of motor home and him and Mum pootling off to different places, touring this amazing country of ours with each other, constantly bickering whilst loving each other a little more each day.
My Dad was the most important man in my life. I was a "Daddies girl" which is weird when I spent more time doing thigns with my Mum because my Dad was always working. I knew how to twist him round my little finger; I also knew how to retreat if I'd pissed him off - he never raised a hand to me, but as a child if I stepped out of line he would shut me in my room and turn off the light (I had a fear of the dark - eventually I learned not to upset him, although on a couple of occasions I got brave and switched the light on, listening for him to come up the stairs when I would turn it off again and pretend I'd been sat in the dark the whole time). Someone said to me a while back it was cruel of him to do so; I don't see that because in those dark moments (there weren't many of them and they never lasted for long) I got to think about how naughty I had been and learned not to do the same thing again which would get me in to trouble. I also had to be a right little sod to be sent to my room, because both my parents set me really fair boundaries; it was my overstepping them that got me in trouble.
As a teenager I had a time to be home by; every minute I was late was 15 minutes I had to be in earlier the next day. I made sure I was never late. If my friends were allowed to stay out later, as long as I went home with that friend and told Mum and Dad what time they were allowed out (something which could be easily checked as all our parents knew each other) then I would be allowed out to that time too. My friends were always welcomed into our home too (a lot of my friends parents wouldn't allow us in the house). Boundaries, but very fair ones.
Did my usual; digressed from where I was going - how often I do that is astounding. So, to round it up, I've stuck to my facebook-free days :) Long may they continue.
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