Monday, January 13, 2020

Confessions of a Floptimist by Jodi Moore


Not gonna lie. This past year was rough.

I lost my dad December 2018, so 2019 was a year of difficult ‘firsts’: the first New Year’s Day I wasn’t able to share my silly resolutions with him. The first birthday of his I wasn’t able to call him on the phone to say, “I love you.” The first birthday of mine I wasn’t able to hear him say that to me.

Full disclosure? I told him anyway. Yep. I talk to him all the time. About my day. About our family. About my fears. About my dreams. Sometimes, I feel his hug. Other times, I can hear him roll his eyes. Both make me smile. (Okay, since I’m in full disclosure mode, both have prompted tears as well.)

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself this year, it’s that I’m a ‘floptimist’. You know, that tenuous soft spot between optimist and pessimist, that fragile balance between “if it’s not okay, it’s not the end” and full-on dystopia? In other words, if you evaluate my emotion on a scale of 1 to 100 Acre Wood, I’m a total mashup of Tigger and Eeyore.

A floptimist is someone who believes in oneself fully and unconditionally, except when one hits a bump in the road (a.k.a. "flops".) A floptimist will then cry or rant, but ultimately understands that a rejection, diversion, or even an overwhelming loss, however painful, can eventually be redirected, revised or crafted into something positive and/or inspiring. We acknowledge it hurts, but also recognize it promotes growth.

It’s a useful tool for me as a writer.

This past year, I found it a lifeline as a daughter. I wanted to create a scrapbook to honor my dad’s memory, to honor his legacy, to help us heal. But my Eeyore was in full swing. Like many families, ours had suffered some dark times, where there were limited photographs to commemorate birthdays, anniversaries and graduations. What’s more, the current politics were inflicting even more cracks. How could I do this? Where could I even start? Thankfully, Tigger bounced in right when I needed him most.



(Note: I found this t-shirt advertised on Etsy. It’s by Miko Tees. And now I want it, lol!)

Sure, there were things that had tried – and still aim – to tear us apart. But there was a lot more that we shared, that connected us, that bonded us: our love of music, of art, of sportsmanship. Our love of dancing, of parties, of food. Our love of holidays, of animals, of each other.

Our love.

Because ultimately, that’s what matters.

At least to this floptimist.

9 comments:

  1. This is so perfectly you! And I know your Dad is listening and cheering for you when you flop or when you hop. <3 I would love to see that scrapbook, too.

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  2. I can't wait to share it with you! And thank you for the lovely comment. *sniff* xoxoxo

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  3. Losing a loved one is a rough transition and one awful bump. Floptimist is a perfect word for it. It'll be 15 years this summer that I lost my Dad - who always said blue skies are above even when it's too cloudy or foggy to see them. I still talk to my Dad, too, - in the fog and under bright blue skies. He's still sending you smiles and hugs - and post some scrapbook pictures! Nothing like a memory to bring smiles! Here's to moving forward, Jodi, and carrying all that love with you.

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    1. Aw, thanks, Kim...and I'm so sorry for your loss as well. It was foggy this morning. I thought of what your dad said...and of you. Hugs and love to you xoxo

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  4. I lost my mom a few months before my first novel was released. That KILLS me; that she never got to see this. I love that you talk to your Dad even now. I'm going to try this. :)

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  5. I'm so sorry, Patty. That's truly hard. My newest (I LOVE MY DRAGON) was dedicated to to my dad...only he never got to see it, or even knew about the dedication (it was going to be a surprise.) I hope he knows now...and I hope talking to your mom helps you to heal. Sending you hugs & love. xoxo

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