In memory of William Harlan Bliss, June 7, 1947-December 2, 2024
I recently read a Facebook post with the following quote.
"There comes a day when you realize that the fear never really goes away, that if you really want something, you have to be willing to do it afraid. And maybe this is the only way you ever get to discover your fullest potential. Maybe you just have to dive right in and face the thing that scares you the most. Because in the end, it's not the rejections and so-called failures that will haunt you. It will be your own potential left unexplored. So maybe you don't need to wait until you overcome your fears to take the first step forward. Maybe you just need to know there's something more important than fear. Something greater. Something worth fighting for. And maybe overcoming your fears is the least important part of your story anyway. Maybe what matters is that you're scared but still determined. Shaky but still standing. Afraid but still willing to try." Zanna Keithley
In my memoir, Brave Enough To Be Bliss, I provide examples of my fears and how the resulting controlling behaviors sabotaged many of my relationships. But then there are also examples later in life where I began diving in and facing fear, not always overcoming it, just facing it and learning to move forward anyway which built courage and then confidence. On December 2, 2024, I was reminded of one example I didn't share in the book but that became especially important on that day.
I was married for 18 years and have been divorced for 13. On that date, my former father-in-law unexpectedly passed away. For 18 years, I was legally a member of this family, but because I was so scared to let anyone know me, even myself, we didn't really get to know each other while we were officially related. In the book, as I describe meeting my husband's family for the first time, I wrote, "He had two younger brothers and a younger sister, and this felt like a very big family to me. They were all very nice and welcoming. They laughed and teased each other a lot, so I could tell they had good relationships. I enjoyed listening to their stories about growing up together and it was nice to see a family intact; however, I felt uncomfortable, overwhelmed and not good enough to be there. It wasn’t them; it was me. It was always me, that was the problem, and I knew it. I just tried to listen, hoping they would ask me as few questions as possible, and that the weekend would pass quickly. It was similar to how I felt participating in sports other than cross country. I felt on display, out of place and like I was a disappointment. There was nothing they could have done differently to make me more comfortable. I just didn’t feel comfortable anywhere, not even in my own skin."
Within a couple months after telling our daughter, Kylee, we were getting divorced, she had an injury that changed the course of not only her life, but ultimately my relationships with my former in-laws. Kylee and her Gram always had a special bond, and I didn't want that to change in any way because of the divorce. Kylee lived with me the majority of the time, so I had the fullest picture of how she was functioning overall after the injury. I communicated with her dad about that and all her doctor's appointments, but I wasn't sure if he shared all of it with his mom in the level of detail a mom or grandma would want, so I began to give her updates as well through email. It felt awkward and perhaps unnecessary, but what was most important to me was that she know everything about what Kylee was going through. I think I told her in the first message that she didn't ever need to respond telling myself it would put her more at ease when I sent the updates, but in reality, I think I was scared she wouldn't respond and putting it out there helped me believe it wouldn't hurt so much if she didn't. After a couple months of updates, though, I told her if she wanted me to stop sending updates, she shouldn't hesitate to tell me, and I would stop. She replied thanking me and telling me how much it had meant to know everything about how Kylee was doing.
And all of that would have been great, but it gets even better.
Kylee's Gram and I actually got to know each other through the ongoing communication about Kylee. We had vulnerable and real communication, some of which I share in the book, and we began to love each other, not because we were once legally related, but because we had gotten to know one another as fully human, fully flawed, fully hurting, and fully growing human beings.
While I'll leave the rest of that story in the book, I needed to share that much to lead into the fact that over the past several years, Kylee's Gram and Poppa, came to Kansas City and stayed at my house several times. Her Gram helped take care of me after two knee surgeries and they both helped me pack up my house when I sold it 18 months ago. I had surgeries and we bought and sold houses while we were married, but I don't recall asking them for help or receiving their very likely offered help. But making a conscious decision to learn how to receive has provided the opportunity for a deepened relationship with everyone who has offered their help in any way.
Kylee's Poppa wasn't a man who discussed his deep feelings often or easily. He was no different than many men because societally men are conditioned not to do so. That doesn't mean he, or any of them, don't possess deep feelings they just don't always know how or if it's really OK for them to share. And sometimes when they do attempt to share, those on the receiving end are so shocked, they don't respond in a way that validates them, and as a result they shut down even more.
Almost two years ago, Kylee's Poppa had a stroke. It was serious and he had some deficits, but with a lot of physical, occupational and speech therapy, he recovered quite well. But even quite well, doesn't mean he could do everything he could before the stroke. As Kylee's Gram and I shared emails and text messages with updates about our lives, she happened to mention that he had been getting rid of many of the things he had used for his business. I thought about how hard it must be for him having to adjust to doing less when he had always lived so full of energy and so full of life with the ability to do everything he wanted to do for himself and others. I thought about how hard the months of physical therapy were for me when I had chosen to have the surgeries that put me there and he hadn't chosen to have a stroke at all.
I had a feeling come over me that I needed to reach out to him, but then for a moment, fear creeped in. I started telling myself things like, "He wouldn't want to hear from me. What if it embarrasses him that I even know there were changes? What if he thinks it's dumb for me to contact him? What if he has complained about coming each time they've been here, and he doesn't even like me? What if the reminder that he can't do everything he used to would upset him?" And then, as I do, despite the fear, I listened to the feeling. I looked through Hallmark cards until I found just the right one and, of course, included a handwritten message.
I never remember exactly what I say when I send a card because it doesn't come from my brain, but basically, I think I just acknowledged that life with all the changes he had been through must be hard at times. And after the words of my heart were recorded, the fear was gone, and I mailed the card never expecting to hear anything about it. But knowing at least I had followed my heart and said what I had to say to a man I had not only loved through the years, but who I had also grown to like after I realized I didn't need to be scared of him because the fear wasn't actually about him. It was about me.
The great thing about expecting nothing in return for a simple act of kindness, is that when there is one, it can be overwhelmingly wonderful. And this email was one of those that left me in complete shock, and so eternally grateful that I had listened to the feeling and had written whatever I wrote because clearly this man who didn't express feelings, had been touched by my words. And, in turn, I was so very touched by his and on December 2, 2024, I was eternally grateful that he had shared them.
From: Former Father-in-law
To: Ginger Bliss
Tue, Jul 4, 2023 at 8:13 AM
Subject: Thank You!
Ginger, what a wonderful and kind card you sent. I know too well that these medical issues can zap your strength and mental health even if you have escaped serious long-term impairment. It reminds me every day how thankful I am to still be living. I seem to have nine lives, and I am on number 11 it appears.
I know you are going thru a stressful time in your life also and I wish you the best and successful resolution to your employment and housing. It will work out I believe. Again, thank you for the inspiring words of encouragement.
Certainly, I don't know him like his wife and immediate family, but I have a feeling if he were able to share his whole heart with us from his perspective now, he might say, while there's value in keeping things clean and going to the carwash every day, there's also great value in taking the time to just be with the ones you love, you don't always have to be busy doing something. And I think as generous as he was helping people with projects (The Flying Pigs Foundation) and making donations (Folds of Honor - Scholarships for Military and First Responder Families), he might also advise us to openly give the gift of our deep feelings through words not only actions. And because kindness was so important to him (Kendall's Kindness), I'm almost certain he would emphasize the importance of being kind to all people every chance you get because those are the things that really matter looking back at life through the lens of a really clean rearview mirror.
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