Surgery Day

Here we are. Surgery day for my husband. This has needed to happen for 10 years or more. Yes, he's been nursing along a rather large hernia for that long.

I've been sitting here since 6 am. His surgery started at 8 and is nearing the two hour mark, a bit longer than anticipated.

There's something about being here, having surgery that makes you vulnerable and emotional. Not just me, both of us.

As the anesthesiologist explained the intubation process, I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. While he does this everyday, I don't. In fact, I never have. This is the first time I've sat in a surgical waiting room waiting on my husband.

The idea of my husband, big, strong and seemingly invincible, not being able to breathe on his own was more than my exhausted heart could take.

After everyone left, we had a few minutes alone. A laid my head on his elbow and prayed. What else could I possibly do? As I looked up at his face, saw the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. I asked if he was scared, to which there was no answer. It'd be out of character for him to admit fear over a silly hernia.

I told him it was ok to cry. I could tell he didn't want to, so I changed the subject. Actually I started reading him about not having on underwear and farting on the table.

There's nothing I want more than my husband to be healthy and whole. I hope this surgery helps with both.

This is another time I hate being away from KC. Waiting rooms alone kind of suck. Other families gather in corners and give funny looks when they realize you're alone.

Part 2

Soon after I typed the last sentence, I was able to see my husband. The surgery took nearly two hours. They had him in recovery for 15-20 minutes. At 10:30, just 2 1/2 hours from the beginning of surgery, he was being rushed out of the hospital. Seriously. He barely dressed himself, felt sick and was loopy. But evidently that's procedure. Crazy.

The surgery was more involved than expected and he has a drain. He's fairly miserable and I'm his working parts for standing and getting in and out of bed for now.

Absolutely not complaining. I'd do even more. But it's rough doing everything for two adults and four dogs. I'm praying the next few days improve. Especially at night. He's miserable and can't get comfortable. Unfortunately that means we are all tired after a long, long night.

He Knew

God knew what He was doing.

That was said to me last night. It was said by one of the only people to really walk through the last 14 months with us. Someone who saw us at our worst. Someone who sat with me for hours as I struggled, grieved and bawled. Someone who saw my crazy.

Without a doubt, this person loved us well through it. They didn't have to, we were complete strangers. My grief and pain came out is crazy and sometimes hateful ways. I was raw and full of emotions and had no place to dump them. This person allowed me to dump them in unkind and ugly ways while reassuring me that I was loved.

I sometimes forget. I forget that someone did that for me, for us. When my ugly spilled out on people who didn't know the back story or couldn't extend grace and apathy, this person reassured me that I was not only loved but was loved by God.

No doubt, 2014 will be known to us for a great long time as the year our lives were turned upside down. It'll be that way until another crisis is bigger and badder than what we experienced.

As we talked last night, I was reminded how I sat across from this person and swore that was not me. The normal me was a less emotional, less crazy. My normal is easy going with occasional frustrations or anger complicated by past hurts, but those are rare. My normal is smiling or inquisitive. My normal is quiet until I'm comfortable and hurt at the thought of offending someone. I think I'm finally much closer to my normal than I maybe ever have been.

It made me smile to be reminded of that. Not because I was right but because I was right. I know how that sounds. I wasn't right as in I'm a know it all and am patting myself on the back for being right. No. I'm thankful I was right and could predict that someday things would be normal again. A new normal but normal. Thankful God allows me to have confidence in Him at times or better yet, I choose correctly to have confidence.

Don't mistake what I'm saying. Things are far from normal, but we live a new normal. We fight the adapting we still have left to do. We want a normal that we dream of now.

Back to what started this whole afternoon of thinking through 2014. God knew what He was doing.

I didn't believe that last year. I couldn't. It wasn't within my capability. I barely had the energy some days, physically and mentally, to get out of bed.

There was never a doubt that God was in control with this move. It was bigger than either of us could control or even think of controlling. Once I got here, got homesick, got really sick and started grieving, I doubted my faith in Gods plan. I doubted I was this was His plan. I didn't curse Him, but I seriously doubted this could ever be what was best for us.

I can only share my perspective of why I know now that God knew what He was doing.

He led us to our church before the illness and grief. He used a couple people is great ways. He provided someone to love us through a tough time. He used someone to show His unconditional care and love when we needed it most.

We were so in between churches before we left and not emotionally tied to a pastor. We would have had friends to be there with us through grief, but maybe not someone like we had. Immense grief would have made me incredibly vulnerable to my family. Being back in KC would have allowed us the opportunity to bottle our emotions instead of dealing with them together.

God knew what He was doing. Each step of the way. His timing, while not our timing, was perfect. He provided imperfect people at perfect times and gave them what they needed to love us.

I don't or can't be happy about the trial. But, I can be happy for the people who recognize the journey and the progress. I can appreciate the people who walked through the ugly with us and never left. They deserve all our thanks and respect.

Christmas Decorations

There's a part of my life that is driven by sheer boredom. I'll vacuum twice a week because I'm bored, not because the house is dirty. Sometimes I'll sit and stare at tv for the same reason.

It's because of that, our house is always adequately decorated for the holidays or season. Prior to eight years ago, I might or might not put up a Christmas tree and that was it. The house was cluttered with crap, but it wasn't really something I cared about or enjoyed.

Maybe it was maturity or maybe it was beginning to enjoy life more that I began decorating. Each year it has grown into a bigger deal for me.

For years, Christmas was still a love/hate for me. We went through the motions, but I really hated it. My family left me with so many awful Christmas memories that I wanted no part of it. Once I became a Christian, it got easier. Not for the reason you'd think.

So much became clear for both of us when I accepted Christ. It was all part of the flood of memories. Once I was able to be honest with my husband, he absolutely stepped up. He understood that in order for Christmas to be enjoyable, not only did I need to understand the meaning, I needed to have new memories and stable, happy traditions.

He began making Christmas special. Not in childlike ways, but in good ways. We started doing Christmas shopping together. We'd walk through toys r us during midnight sales. We'd go look at animated light displays or drive through the KC plaza. We took an annual trip to Branson, which all Christmas. We went to Christmas Eve services. We discussed the birth of Christ. He never complained about Christmas music. He helped change my heart toward Christmas.

Because I'm at home all the time, I tend to change decorations early. Fall goes up mid August. Christmas goes up mid November. Christmas tree and a few other items get put away in January. Most of my Christmas decorations are actually winter and snowman themed, so they stay up until March. Then the spring stuff goes up. In May, a few Easter themed items get put away and a few summer things take their place. Then it all starts again.

Next week, the Christmas decorations will go up. My Christmas shopping is done. I know it seems really early for some, but it makes me happy. With the current state and upcoming state of things, I want to be surrounded by what makes me happy. So next week it is!

You're Safe

Even though I've said it before, it never hurts to have a reminder. I survived a horrific life, a life nightmares are made of really.

My days aren't full of reminders, but the reminders fill my down time. It would be a lie to say that the reminders aren't debilitating at times. They are. Not as bad as they were two years ago, but enough.

We've been here 18 months. That means I've had only 18 months of my 40 years when I've lived without fear of an abuser. Only 18 months where I didn't live with harassment, abuse and torture. My dad didn't stop the abuse when I married and he never, ever left me alone. To my knowledge, he was still harassing and taunting me up to the day we left.

In 40 years, 18 is just a blip, the tiniest fraction of time. There are a list of things that don't just go away after all that time.

There are still nightmares. There are still flashbacks. There are still times when I shake in fear and forget I'm 700 miles away. There are times when I wake up in a cold sweat in the dark and have to figure out where I'm at. There are times when I have to verbally repeat that I'm safe now and he's far, far away.

It's the first of November and the start of holiday season. All of my issues get worse during this time of the year. That locks me in a nasty cycle. As those things increase, so does my insomnia. In July and August, I was at 8-9 hours. September and October were 6-7. Now, I'm lucky to average 3 hours a night.

I know it will improve, but it will take a long, painful few months.

Unlikable

Have you ever felt or believed you were completely unlikable?

That's usually not one of my more intense insecurities. I've always been honest and passionate. I've often found that I'm one of those people you like or don't and there's not a lot I can do to change your opinion. It's not that I don't care, but I've found over the years that winning over people who have an already developed opinion of me, true or not, is not a strong suit of mine.

Honestly, that works when you live in a heavily populated and diverse area. You'll still make friends and find plenty of people who appreciate your personality.

When we moved here, I made two critical errors. One was that I acted like the person who recently come out of their shell/got comfortable in their own skin. The other was believing we would be quickly accepted.

My first error was a very natural one. I wasn't afraid to speak or share. The problem came in the people here not knowing what the past 8-40 years of my life have been like. Opinions were made about me based on my confidence and false security. First impressions were unfairly made. I don't really have the ability to change that, even if I want. Most the people could never know that it was a good thing for me to have confidence and be open.

The second error was also a very natural one. I believed if we came in, loved each other and showed love for the people and community, we would fall into place as if we had always belonged. Yes, that happened with a couple people and even some of those have been difficult. We've felt on egg shells with a great deal of people.

I'm honestly not complaining about anyone or any group of people. I'm trying to flesh out those very real feeling that bring a lot of loneliness.

We've met a few hundred people since we've been here. Most have been only once or twice and no real conversation took place. I'll be honest, we aren't very memorable people on first meeting. We are quiet and reserved.

Here's the hard part. We've been here 18 months now. Between the two of us, we have almost a hand full of relationships that are beyond surface. However, we feel stuck there. Not stuck in those relationships, but stuck not making any more.

Recently, we've had the opportunity to be in large groups of people a few times. Even though we were amongst them, we were not. We watched as they all mingled, laughed and talked. In all the situations, only one person spoke to us. People we've shared meals with walked past us as if we were invisible. One or both of us would wave or say hello and there was no response.

This sort of thing happens all the time. It's a small town. We see people in stores, restaurants and gas stations. In 18 months, we can probably list the number of times people have acknowledged us.

Most of these people have no known reason to dislike us. And, most of the time we don't take it as that. Mostly, we know that we are strangers. We know that people's friend receptors are full. We don't take it personally a lot of the time.

But lately, it's been harder. It has felt personal. I'm just being very real here. We often discuss why it feels as though we are so unlikable. What is wrong with us? What are we doing wrong? What can we do better? Do we let this be the thing that drives us to move on next year? Is God using this to teach us something or show us this place isn't where we belong?

Of course, some of this is extreme. But it's one of the most painful parts of this move. Even 18 months later. Neither of us is immune to it. It touches on insecurities. It causes pain. We are separated from one place and not quite a part of the new place.