This is the third week in a row that I've comfortably sat in my old familiar place. Today was the hardest to walk in the door, but has been the best so far.
It was easier for me to connect to the music. To me, it was familiar and inviting. There is something so sincere in worship when you can visibly see a drummer, guitarist, or even people in the congregation worshipping with passion. Let me be painfully honest, I'd love it if it were always this way.
We had an adult baptism this morning. It is usually difficult for me to watch an adult be baptized. The whole thing is so reminiscent of my past experience of be pushed and held under water. It's so bittersweet for me. Through the painful memories I always find the one good one.
I always remember with fondness my own baptism.
I am sure I've mentioned this before but the weeks and days leading up to my baptism were hard. I couldn't wrap my head around willing allowing a man I barely knew push me under water.
You know the saying that it takes a village to raise a child? Well, in my case, it took a village to get this baby Christian baptized.
My village consisted of our church staff. They were so good to me during this process. None of us knew at the time why I was having such a difficult time. Despite the lack of understanding, they were all exhibited an immense amount of patience and kindness.
I can't even remember the number of times we did practice runs. There were times they just let me sit in the baptismal so that I could get more comfortable. They prayed and prayed with me and probably prayed in private for the craziness nobody understood.
With their help and a peace that is beyond understanding, I was baptized on September 9, 2007.
As I stood in church today thinking through that time, I looked over my shoulder. Across the church stood the pastor who was instrumental in my conversion and who baptized me. I looked to the left to see the counselor who stuck by me through that crazy time and many more. Ahead of me, leading the worship, was the music minister who was so good to me through encouragement during that time.
What a sweet, sweet moment. To look and see these three people made those memories even more special today. Lots and lots of other things have changed since that time. Many of the people are different. I've changed. Even those three people have changed. But that moment was absolutely perfect.
In all my terrible church experiences, I understandably struggle to remember the good. I am so glad I got that reminder today. I needed it. I needed to be reminded of the goodness inside the church.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Saturday, July 27, 2013
15 Years Ago Monday
Before we head out on this whirlwind vacation, I have (at least) one more hurdle to jump. It is a personal one and certainly one which seems to evolve a little every year.
Our quickly approaching 15th wedding anniversary is definitely a milestone. Hopefully, I will take the time to write more on that later. Very few anniversaries pass me by without thinking about the loss of my grandma. Monday will mark 15 years of living life without her.
It is only in the past couple years that I have started to mourn her passing. Long delayed for me, I know but understandable if you know how my brain works.
Last year at this time was very difficult for me, maybe more so than the previous years. I had lived for nearly 6 years without much family contact and I felt the loss more than ever.
My grandma was literally the best of the worst. She wasn't great, had her issues and was sub par at best as a person. However, she loved and cared for me in more overt ways than anyone else in my family. I sat at her bed side for 6 days before she passed away, delaying many of my wedding preparations.
Looking back at her life, I could say with bold confidence that she was not a Christian. She spent her last few days alive at a Catholic hospital. She had a very aggressive lung cancer, which only took 7 days to fill her body. All of that 7 days, she was on life support. Five of those days, she communicated with us by blinking her eyes, tapping our hands and writing somewhat decipherable notes.
I was not a Christian at the time. However, I found comfort in their courtyard and chapel. The courtyard had a large statue of Mary. It was beautiful and peaceful, a great place to breathe in life and breathe out the sterilization of the ICU. The chapel was a warm place, filled with candles. I would sit for what seemed like hours. I often found myself in a sobbing heap in the pew hoping for a miracle.
On one of my trips to the chapel, a kind priest gave me a tissue and patted my back. He proceeded on to a stool at the front of the chapel, lighting a candle and then bowing in silence. I realize now that this was very much the Catholic way of praying for someone specific.
I left the chapel, went to my grandma's room and asked her if she believed in God. She nodded yes and I found comfort in that. Not sure why, since I was still years and years from truly believing in God myself. Her affirmation of belief has confused me greatly over the years and I could probably write a book on that. That part of her passing probably gets more and more difficult to reconcile as the years go by.
This year, I find myself mourning her in a much different way. As the process of re-establishing a couple family relationships continues, I think I mourn my connection to my grandma less.
For the first time ever, I think there is a potential to have a stronger relationship and certainly a healthier relationship with others in my family. These relationships, which are really starting anew, could be so much better in the future than what I ever had with her. They won't replace what I had with her. But maybe, the best relationship I ever had with someone in my family is yet to come. Maybe, just maybe, the best I ever have won't be the best of the worst.
Tuesday morning before we leave for Texas, I will be visiting her grave site. Something I have not done is over 7 years. It will be the first time to visit with a true understanding of death. There won't be flowers. There won't be one-sided conversation. There will probably be tears, but they won't be wasted. Fifteen years later, I can finally mourn the good, put aside the bad and hope for the future.
Our quickly approaching 15th wedding anniversary is definitely a milestone. Hopefully, I will take the time to write more on that later. Very few anniversaries pass me by without thinking about the loss of my grandma. Monday will mark 15 years of living life without her.
It is only in the past couple years that I have started to mourn her passing. Long delayed for me, I know but understandable if you know how my brain works.
Last year at this time was very difficult for me, maybe more so than the previous years. I had lived for nearly 6 years without much family contact and I felt the loss more than ever.
My grandma was literally the best of the worst. She wasn't great, had her issues and was sub par at best as a person. However, she loved and cared for me in more overt ways than anyone else in my family. I sat at her bed side for 6 days before she passed away, delaying many of my wedding preparations.
Looking back at her life, I could say with bold confidence that she was not a Christian. She spent her last few days alive at a Catholic hospital. She had a very aggressive lung cancer, which only took 7 days to fill her body. All of that 7 days, she was on life support. Five of those days, she communicated with us by blinking her eyes, tapping our hands and writing somewhat decipherable notes.
I was not a Christian at the time. However, I found comfort in their courtyard and chapel. The courtyard had a large statue of Mary. It was beautiful and peaceful, a great place to breathe in life and breathe out the sterilization of the ICU. The chapel was a warm place, filled with candles. I would sit for what seemed like hours. I often found myself in a sobbing heap in the pew hoping for a miracle.
On one of my trips to the chapel, a kind priest gave me a tissue and patted my back. He proceeded on to a stool at the front of the chapel, lighting a candle and then bowing in silence. I realize now that this was very much the Catholic way of praying for someone specific.
I left the chapel, went to my grandma's room and asked her if she believed in God. She nodded yes and I found comfort in that. Not sure why, since I was still years and years from truly believing in God myself. Her affirmation of belief has confused me greatly over the years and I could probably write a book on that. That part of her passing probably gets more and more difficult to reconcile as the years go by.
This year, I find myself mourning her in a much different way. As the process of re-establishing a couple family relationships continues, I think I mourn my connection to my grandma less.
For the first time ever, I think there is a potential to have a stronger relationship and certainly a healthier relationship with others in my family. These relationships, which are really starting anew, could be so much better in the future than what I ever had with her. They won't replace what I had with her. But maybe, the best relationship I ever had with someone in my family is yet to come. Maybe, just maybe, the best I ever have won't be the best of the worst.
Tuesday morning before we leave for Texas, I will be visiting her grave site. Something I have not done is over 7 years. It will be the first time to visit with a true understanding of death. There won't be flowers. There won't be one-sided conversation. There will probably be tears, but they won't be wasted. Fifteen years later, I can finally mourn the good, put aside the bad and hope for the future.
Friday, July 26, 2013
3 Days and Counting
Much to my own surprise, we are eagerly preparing for an upcoming vacation. It isn't the timing or location or specifics I had planned, but it very well could be even better.
Our original plan was to take 7-10 days and make a trip east to South Carolina. We had delayed finalizing lodging while we waited on a potential change in my husband's employment (which did not happen).
A little over a week ago, we learned that we would be able to have my niece and nephew for a short period of time. It looked like it would be an extended weekend at the beginning of August. A furlough day for my husband, we agreed to give the kids a few options. We could make a quick road trip to Dallas, St. Louis, Omaha, Branson or they could hang out with us at home.
My niece had no real preference. My nephew immediately chose Dallas and gave his reason. He wanted to go to the ocean and beach. It's reasonable for a kid to think all of Texas is surrounded by beach, right? I can't imagine his disappointment as his mom explained that Texas is far from the beach.
After some discussion, we agreed that with a few additional days we could take them to the beach. The parents agreed and so we began to plan our 6 day vacation.
Our adventure will start next Tuesday. We have so much planned. Tours of Cowboy's Stadium, Johnson Space Center and the new George W. Bush Presidential Library and Museum. We plan to wrap up our time in Texas with a few days on the beaches and piers in Galveston.
The hotels are booked. The tickets are purchased. The car is clean. Bags and bags of chips and crackers are bought and packed.
As excited as I am, I am holding a respectful amount of fear.
My niece and nephew are 12 and 13. They are sweet, quiet kids most of the time. However, I am positive that sitting in a car side by side for hours upon hours will wash away some of that sweetness and they will inevitably start to irritate each other. I can easily predict at least a half dozen of the "Don't make me pull this car over" moments. But I am praying that the flow of activities will wear them out and they will sleep.
I don't take the responsibility lightly. Even though I babysat these kids from birth on, I don't take for granted the precious gifts they are and how we will be responsible for their well-being during this vacation. I know we can handle it, but it is certainly on my mind as we prepare to travel 9 hours from their parents.
I would like to add that I don't take for granted how big this is for us. It wasn't that long ago when I never thought this kind of trip would be possible. I am extremely thankful for the time to spend with them and see it as an unexpected gift.
Of course I want them to have a great time. They don't get vacations like this every year. While I don't have unrealistic expectations of them, but I certainly don't want the trip to be a flop. So far, the kids seem so excited and that's all I can hope for right now.
It's hard to admit and I am sure no surprise, but I am worried about my own anxiety. Yes, I have anxiety about my anxiety. Since our accident two years ago, my travel/car anxiety is sometimes out of control. Honestly, it is usually the one thing on any of our trips that brings out the worst in both of us. I don't want my niece and nephew to see that and I certainly don't want to them to see us fight.
That leads to my last concern. Even though I don't think we need to give the kids this facade that life is always perfect for us, I do want to be good role models for them. I want us to be able to show them love and for them to have a fun trip.
I don't typically do this, but would you consider praying for this trip? Pray for safe travels, quieted hearts and minds, and that it would be a wonderful experience for all four of us.
I hope to be sitting here in a couple weeks, sharing pictures from our trip.
Our original plan was to take 7-10 days and make a trip east to South Carolina. We had delayed finalizing lodging while we waited on a potential change in my husband's employment (which did not happen).
A little over a week ago, we learned that we would be able to have my niece and nephew for a short period of time. It looked like it would be an extended weekend at the beginning of August. A furlough day for my husband, we agreed to give the kids a few options. We could make a quick road trip to Dallas, St. Louis, Omaha, Branson or they could hang out with us at home.
My niece had no real preference. My nephew immediately chose Dallas and gave his reason. He wanted to go to the ocean and beach. It's reasonable for a kid to think all of Texas is surrounded by beach, right? I can't imagine his disappointment as his mom explained that Texas is far from the beach.
After some discussion, we agreed that with a few additional days we could take them to the beach. The parents agreed and so we began to plan our 6 day vacation.
Our adventure will start next Tuesday. We have so much planned. Tours of Cowboy's Stadium, Johnson Space Center and the new George W. Bush Presidential Library and Museum. We plan to wrap up our time in Texas with a few days on the beaches and piers in Galveston.
The hotels are booked. The tickets are purchased. The car is clean. Bags and bags of chips and crackers are bought and packed.
As excited as I am, I am holding a respectful amount of fear.
My niece and nephew are 12 and 13. They are sweet, quiet kids most of the time. However, I am positive that sitting in a car side by side for hours upon hours will wash away some of that sweetness and they will inevitably start to irritate each other. I can easily predict at least a half dozen of the "Don't make me pull this car over" moments. But I am praying that the flow of activities will wear them out and they will sleep.
I don't take the responsibility lightly. Even though I babysat these kids from birth on, I don't take for granted the precious gifts they are and how we will be responsible for their well-being during this vacation. I know we can handle it, but it is certainly on my mind as we prepare to travel 9 hours from their parents.
I would like to add that I don't take for granted how big this is for us. It wasn't that long ago when I never thought this kind of trip would be possible. I am extremely thankful for the time to spend with them and see it as an unexpected gift.
Of course I want them to have a great time. They don't get vacations like this every year. While I don't have unrealistic expectations of them, but I certainly don't want the trip to be a flop. So far, the kids seem so excited and that's all I can hope for right now.
It's hard to admit and I am sure no surprise, but I am worried about my own anxiety. Yes, I have anxiety about my anxiety. Since our accident two years ago, my travel/car anxiety is sometimes out of control. Honestly, it is usually the one thing on any of our trips that brings out the worst in both of us. I don't want my niece and nephew to see that and I certainly don't want to them to see us fight.
That leads to my last concern. Even though I don't think we need to give the kids this facade that life is always perfect for us, I do want to be good role models for them. I want us to be able to show them love and for them to have a fun trip.
I don't typically do this, but would you consider praying for this trip? Pray for safe travels, quieted hearts and minds, and that it would be a wonderful experience for all four of us.
I hope to be sitting here in a couple weeks, sharing pictures from our trip.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Scrapbooking
I am so thankful to get to take a few minutes out of my busy life to share about an awesome experience I had last night. I will have to share later why all the busyness, which is an awesome story all of it's own.
When a dear friend invited me to her house for a scrapbooking night, I was eager to go but definitely held some reservations in the back of my mind. NOT at all because of the ladies involved! I love all of them!
My skepticism comes from the myriad of mediocre and just down right bad experiences I've had when I am an outsider. By outsider, I mean the least known person to the group or the newest one in the group. That's a strength and weakness of a small church. People who grew up together or have been in the same social circles for so long often are very close knit and can have a difficult time bringing in new people.
Since I certainly needed some time around other people, I headed for my friend's house with my skepticism in check.
I was so pleasantly surprised. It was probably the best evening I've had and for so many reasons. We talked, openly and honestly. We shared serious stuff. We laughed. We laughed some more. We did it all without fear of judgment. We talked about things that scare us and future life plans. I'm pretty sure we did some scrapbooking, but it certainly wasn't the main topic.
Most of all, I was just one of them. I've never had an experience where I so naturally felt a part of a small group the way I did this one. It was one of the rare times I walked away sad it was over and anxiously awaiting the next time we could get together.
The other three ladies have known each other far longer than I have known any of them. And, I know it was a short break from the ins and outs of everyday life for them. For me, it was so much more.
I needed a night like this. I needed a renewed hope that I could naturally fit somewhere without it being difficult for me. I needed to know there was a place I could be myself and not fear being judged. I needed to hear that beyond the happy faces that grace the church doors on Sunday morning, there are people who have messy lives. I needed to know I wasn't going to forever be an outsider.
I share this solely for myself. There will be many more times when I struggle to find that natural fit and feeling, especially in the church body. I needed to be reminded that my place does exist and there are people who are caring, loving and not judgmental.
When a dear friend invited me to her house for a scrapbooking night, I was eager to go but definitely held some reservations in the back of my mind. NOT at all because of the ladies involved! I love all of them!
My skepticism comes from the myriad of mediocre and just down right bad experiences I've had when I am an outsider. By outsider, I mean the least known person to the group or the newest one in the group. That's a strength and weakness of a small church. People who grew up together or have been in the same social circles for so long often are very close knit and can have a difficult time bringing in new people.
Since I certainly needed some time around other people, I headed for my friend's house with my skepticism in check.
I was so pleasantly surprised. It was probably the best evening I've had and for so many reasons. We talked, openly and honestly. We shared serious stuff. We laughed. We laughed some more. We did it all without fear of judgment. We talked about things that scare us and future life plans. I'm pretty sure we did some scrapbooking, but it certainly wasn't the main topic.
Most of all, I was just one of them. I've never had an experience where I so naturally felt a part of a small group the way I did this one. It was one of the rare times I walked away sad it was over and anxiously awaiting the next time we could get together.
The other three ladies have known each other far longer than I have known any of them. And, I know it was a short break from the ins and outs of everyday life for them. For me, it was so much more.
I needed a night like this. I needed a renewed hope that I could naturally fit somewhere without it being difficult for me. I needed to know there was a place I could be myself and not fear being judged. I needed to hear that beyond the happy faces that grace the church doors on Sunday morning, there are people who have messy lives. I needed to know I wasn't going to forever be an outsider.
I share this solely for myself. There will be many more times when I struggle to find that natural fit and feeling, especially in the church body. I needed to be reminded that my place does exist and there are people who are caring, loving and not judgmental.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Conviction
This past week, I was having a conversation with an individual from church when I found myself feeling so convicted. That doesn't happen often. Not because I am above conviction, but because I rarely have deep enough conversations to lead to conviction.
Honestly, this wasn't that deep of a conversation. It was with someone who has been a Christian longer than me, so I was a bit surprised.
In the conversation, the person said with firm belief that Christians who drink, smoke, cuss and watch questionable television are NOT Christians.
NOT Christians!
I tried to reason this out with the person that this was simply untrue. Everyone has their stuff. Everyone had their sin. Their crutches. The things God has not dealt with them on. This person was having none of it.
They said they don't do those things because Christians aren't supposed to to do them. By that time, I was doing my best to share in a loving way that this was holding a judgement over someone for their stuff. I tried.
I found myself just getting pissed. Yea, I said pissed. If you missed it, long ago I readily admitted that I have a problem with swearing. That surprises some people, because I know the absolute wrong times and places to do it. It's not something God has dealt with me on yet. I obviously have much bigger things in my life right now.
This person was standing in my home telling me I was not a Christian because I occasionally drop the F-bomb. Oh hell no!
I didn't have much to say the remainder of the time this person was visiting. I was insulted. Hurt. Angry.
After they left, I prayed. My goodness, I prayed for forgiveness. I know I have done the same thing. Not in the same way, but very similar.
You see, I have long thought that Christians were all loving and forgiving and understanding. I have expected it. The bible tells us to be that way and it was presented to me in many ways that the church as a whole was this way.
Through years of hurt, I learned the hard way that this isn't true. Do I believe the absence of these things are a weakness of the church as a whole...yes! But I've certainly learned that individually, those things are largely often an unmet expectation. To find an individual who loves, forgives and shows compassion regularly is a rarity. I have found it in a few select people, but it was a long process and not easy.
I know I spent a lot of time the past few years angry because these things were so hard to find even though its right there in the bible. Yes, I've given a lot of grace and second, third and eighth chances. But, I realized that I felt convicted for being so judgmental.
Hearing the judgement being spewed out at me in my own house changed me. I'm not sure I've yet forgiven this person for their ignorance as it was deeply personal. But, I certainly know I will reconsider my anger toward the Christians who don't quite have it right yet.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Honestly, this wasn't that deep of a conversation. It was with someone who has been a Christian longer than me, so I was a bit surprised.
In the conversation, the person said with firm belief that Christians who drink, smoke, cuss and watch questionable television are NOT Christians.
NOT Christians!
I tried to reason this out with the person that this was simply untrue. Everyone has their stuff. Everyone had their sin. Their crutches. The things God has not dealt with them on. This person was having none of it.
They said they don't do those things because Christians aren't supposed to to do them. By that time, I was doing my best to share in a loving way that this was holding a judgement over someone for their stuff. I tried.
I found myself just getting pissed. Yea, I said pissed. If you missed it, long ago I readily admitted that I have a problem with swearing. That surprises some people, because I know the absolute wrong times and places to do it. It's not something God has dealt with me on yet. I obviously have much bigger things in my life right now.
This person was standing in my home telling me I was not a Christian because I occasionally drop the F-bomb. Oh hell no!
I didn't have much to say the remainder of the time this person was visiting. I was insulted. Hurt. Angry.
After they left, I prayed. My goodness, I prayed for forgiveness. I know I have done the same thing. Not in the same way, but very similar.
You see, I have long thought that Christians were all loving and forgiving and understanding. I have expected it. The bible tells us to be that way and it was presented to me in many ways that the church as a whole was this way.
Through years of hurt, I learned the hard way that this isn't true. Do I believe the absence of these things are a weakness of the church as a whole...yes! But I've certainly learned that individually, those things are largely often an unmet expectation. To find an individual who loves, forgives and shows compassion regularly is a rarity. I have found it in a few select people, but it was a long process and not easy.
I know I spent a lot of time the past few years angry because these things were so hard to find even though its right there in the bible. Yes, I've given a lot of grace and second, third and eighth chances. But, I realized that I felt convicted for being so judgmental.
Hearing the judgement being spewed out at me in my own house changed me. I'm not sure I've yet forgiven this person for their ignorance as it was deeply personal. But, I certainly know I will reconsider my anger toward the Christians who don't quite have it right yet.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Foreign Movie
It is a notable accomplishment for me to be sitting in church for the second time in three weeks. I should be happy with that, but I'm just not. I'm not unhappy either. It really has little to do with emotion at all.
I want to be here or I wouldn't be. I didn't sleep last night so I certainly had a viable excuse to stay home, again. I have finally reached the point where I miss what little I used to get from church and have a desire to have it again.
Wouldn't it be easy for me if that would all fall into place after I overcome the other issues that have been roadblocks for me. I mean things have literally happened over the past few weeks that have paved a road clear to the front door and I've only had to walk through it. I couldn't have asked for it to be easier.
But as I sit here, I realize I have yet another hurdle in front of me. Another obstacle to get over before my time here can be meaningful. It's my own and its big. It's really two-fold.
This is one area where my disorder is painfully obvious. Most of the time, I get nothing from listening to preaching or corporate worship. There's a block that I don't want to go into right now, but its real and hard.
That problem IS unique to me and my situation, but the outcome is not. Regardless of the number of people I've asked, I've never found anyone willing to take the time to summarize the sermon for me. That leaves me with a high level of frustration.
Lets face it, there are few people who will continue to willingly put forth an effort to do something when they continuously feel it is useless. I'm no different in this. If you don't get anything for your effort, you simply just give up after a while. I'm not talking about perseverance here. There is a possibility it will be this way the rest of my life. So, it's not just a test.
All that said, I have a serous disconnect from the church service itself. When the actions are always the same and you don't hear the content which does change from week to week, it's like sitting quietly and watching the same movie repeatedly.
We sing two songs. Someone preaches a mini sermon. An offering is taken. We sing two more songs. Someone reads scripture. The pastor preaches. We sing another song. Someone prays. Up. Down. It all happens in a scripted way. Everything is pre written. The guys speaking or praying talk in ways they wouldn't normally because they are reading what is written.
The songs don't make sense. I typically sing along only once or twice through the entire service because I'm not familiar. The words just don't connect for me and I'm usually good at dissecting music.
Rinse and repeat.
It's disheartening to hear people be able to connect and be enriched by their time at church. I'm happy for them. It's not my story though.
So I should be happy to be sitting here. I should be ecstatic to see the mountain I've climbed just to be sitting here. But I'm not. I want more. I don't want to sit in a foreign film without subtitles every week and walk out frustrated over the time lost. That's simply not satisfying.
If you search your heart, I'm sure you'd feel the same.
I want to be here or I wouldn't be. I didn't sleep last night so I certainly had a viable excuse to stay home, again. I have finally reached the point where I miss what little I used to get from church and have a desire to have it again.
Wouldn't it be easy for me if that would all fall into place after I overcome the other issues that have been roadblocks for me. I mean things have literally happened over the past few weeks that have paved a road clear to the front door and I've only had to walk through it. I couldn't have asked for it to be easier.
But as I sit here, I realize I have yet another hurdle in front of me. Another obstacle to get over before my time here can be meaningful. It's my own and its big. It's really two-fold.
This is one area where my disorder is painfully obvious. Most of the time, I get nothing from listening to preaching or corporate worship. There's a block that I don't want to go into right now, but its real and hard.
That problem IS unique to me and my situation, but the outcome is not. Regardless of the number of people I've asked, I've never found anyone willing to take the time to summarize the sermon for me. That leaves me with a high level of frustration.
Lets face it, there are few people who will continue to willingly put forth an effort to do something when they continuously feel it is useless. I'm no different in this. If you don't get anything for your effort, you simply just give up after a while. I'm not talking about perseverance here. There is a possibility it will be this way the rest of my life. So, it's not just a test.
All that said, I have a serous disconnect from the church service itself. When the actions are always the same and you don't hear the content which does change from week to week, it's like sitting quietly and watching the same movie repeatedly.
We sing two songs. Someone preaches a mini sermon. An offering is taken. We sing two more songs. Someone reads scripture. The pastor preaches. We sing another song. Someone prays. Up. Down. It all happens in a scripted way. Everything is pre written. The guys speaking or praying talk in ways they wouldn't normally because they are reading what is written.
The songs don't make sense. I typically sing along only once or twice through the entire service because I'm not familiar. The words just don't connect for me and I'm usually good at dissecting music.
Rinse and repeat.
It's disheartening to hear people be able to connect and be enriched by their time at church. I'm happy for them. It's not my story though.
So I should be happy to be sitting here. I should be ecstatic to see the mountain I've climbed just to be sitting here. But I'm not. I want more. I don't want to sit in a foreign film without subtitles every week and walk out frustrated over the time lost. That's simply not satisfying.
If you search your heart, I'm sure you'd feel the same.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Missed It By That Much...
To my delight alone, I have been driving all summer. Nobody is happier about that than me. In fact, I'm not sure anybody is happy about that except me. Although, there have really not been many problems.
I did have an incident this week which made me reconsider my desire to drive....briefly.
Our accident in 2011 certainly raised my level of anxiety while riding in a car. I have much less of it when I'm the one driving. After a couple months behind the wheel, I am cautious and yet very carefree while driving. That's definitely not the case while riding with someone else.
Isn't it funny how sometimes it only takes one little thing to remind us that we aren't invincible? To remind us just how small we are? To remind us that God is bigger than us? To remind us that all the little things work together for something bigger? To remind us just how vulnerable we really are?
While making the 10 minute trek between suburbs one evening this week, I had what I am positive was a little thing happen to me. I am sure it would have been deemed "cool" by my husband and a lot of guys. It might have rattled some of the ladies I know, but some of them probably would have thought it was exciting after the initial shock.
As I drove down the highway, I saw ahead that I had a green light to keep going. I usually am very attentive to all side roads even when I have the right of way. As I approached the intersection, I saw a large truck barreling down the side street but was certain it would stop at the red light. Wrong!
The truck fishtailed through traffic, smacking a car and light pole in it's path. By this time, I was already into the intersection and could see the truck wasn't stopping for anyone. I hit my brakes and veered to the side as the end of the truck swung just inches away from my bumper.
In a complete state of shock, I know I took a deep breath and had some choice words flowing through my head about the truck load of young cowboys who were hanging out the windows and yelling. In that brief second, I couldn't believe they had just blown through a stop light causing so much damage and nearly hitting me.
It may have seemed like minutes but I know it was only seconds later, I realized that these fools weren't stopping. Why? Well, it might have had something to do with the police cars chasing them. One after another, police cars were in pursuit of these young men and I was sitting right in the middle of their chase.
As I watched the truck and cars get smaller and smaller as they headed further away, the tears in my eyes got bigger and bigger. I took a lot of deep breaths and headed back out on the highway. I didn't cry, but those giant tears set in my eyes all the way home. I'm not sure I even blinked.
My mind didn't slow down the rest of the way home. If I hadn't taken that extra 30 seconds to send a text message or if I had been on my phone and not paying attention or if I hadn't slowed down when I did.
Being in the driver's seat didn't make me any bigger or any more in control. I was a little tiny spec in a great big world and I was vulnerable. A few seconds in either direction and my evening would have ended a lot different.
I haven't given up driving yet (I know there are some people anxiously waiting for that moment), but I'm driving a little bit more alert the past few days. And, I'm certainly driving a lot more thankful when I arrive home safely.
I did have an incident this week which made me reconsider my desire to drive....briefly.
Our accident in 2011 certainly raised my level of anxiety while riding in a car. I have much less of it when I'm the one driving. After a couple months behind the wheel, I am cautious and yet very carefree while driving. That's definitely not the case while riding with someone else.
Isn't it funny how sometimes it only takes one little thing to remind us that we aren't invincible? To remind us just how small we are? To remind us that God is bigger than us? To remind us that all the little things work together for something bigger? To remind us just how vulnerable we really are?
While making the 10 minute trek between suburbs one evening this week, I had what I am positive was a little thing happen to me. I am sure it would have been deemed "cool" by my husband and a lot of guys. It might have rattled some of the ladies I know, but some of them probably would have thought it was exciting after the initial shock.
As I drove down the highway, I saw ahead that I had a green light to keep going. I usually am very attentive to all side roads even when I have the right of way. As I approached the intersection, I saw a large truck barreling down the side street but was certain it would stop at the red light. Wrong!
The truck fishtailed through traffic, smacking a car and light pole in it's path. By this time, I was already into the intersection and could see the truck wasn't stopping for anyone. I hit my brakes and veered to the side as the end of the truck swung just inches away from my bumper.
In a complete state of shock, I know I took a deep breath and had some choice words flowing through my head about the truck load of young cowboys who were hanging out the windows and yelling. In that brief second, I couldn't believe they had just blown through a stop light causing so much damage and nearly hitting me.
It may have seemed like minutes but I know it was only seconds later, I realized that these fools weren't stopping. Why? Well, it might have had something to do with the police cars chasing them. One after another, police cars were in pursuit of these young men and I was sitting right in the middle of their chase.
As I watched the truck and cars get smaller and smaller as they headed further away, the tears in my eyes got bigger and bigger. I took a lot of deep breaths and headed back out on the highway. I didn't cry, but those giant tears set in my eyes all the way home. I'm not sure I even blinked.
My mind didn't slow down the rest of the way home. If I hadn't taken that extra 30 seconds to send a text message or if I had been on my phone and not paying attention or if I hadn't slowed down when I did.
Being in the driver's seat didn't make me any bigger or any more in control. I was a little tiny spec in a great big world and I was vulnerable. A few seconds in either direction and my evening would have ended a lot different.
I haven't given up driving yet (I know there are some people anxiously waiting for that moment), but I'm driving a little bit more alert the past few days. And, I'm certainly driving a lot more thankful when I arrive home safely.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Marriage 2.0
We are less than a month away from celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary. I know that's a big deal to most people, but for us it's HUGE!
As is always the case, I'm going to be brutally honest. Two weeks ago, I packed a bag and left my husband a detailed letter about how I needed a few days away from him to decide if I still wanted to be married.
There were a couple issues plaguing me. He had been gone the week prior and I had gone days with only 1-2 hours of sleep. I needed rest and sleep desperately. My days had become filled with little more than laundry, cleaning, cooking, taking care of dogs and repeating. My exhaustion only exacerbated the feelings of being a single wife. My husband had gotten so focused and wrapped up in his job, that he had little interest in or focus on anything else. I have certainly done that and maybe you have too. It is easy to let the most stressful issue in our lives consume us and for the ones we love the most to suffer.
Regardless, I'd had enough and needed a respite from it all. I needed things to change or I needed the strength to accept it. Needless-to-say, I came back home the same night and we left the next day for a weekend away. No cleaning, no cooking, no working, no email, no time spent apart. It was just what we needed. I know, packing and leaving was extreme but it certainly led to our quick realignment.
As terrible as that all sounds, it is NOTHING in comparison to the months leading up to our 1st wedding anniversary.
OK, I'm not going to sugar coat this at all. Our first entire year was pretty miserable. He had lived on his own for well over five years. He had his routine, his stuff, his ways and I was an intruder! I had no stability prior to moving and was a bit more free and loose with time and routine than he was. We clashed in big ways.
My grandma had died three days before our wedding. I didn't have time to grieve and I certainly didn't know how. On top of that, I had moved two hours away from everyone I knew. My husband, who I didn't like much that first year, was literally the only person I knew. I left a town of 2,000 people with only 1 gas station and a Pizza Hut and moved to a huge suburb of KC. My entire life had been turned upside down.
Because my husband was so regimented in his routine, we made the trip back to his parents EVERY weekend. No kidding! We spent not one weekend at home that entire first year. We also made six trips back that first year for more funerals. Our families both suffered lots of loss that first 12-15 months of our marriage.
Heading into our first anniversary, I was fairly certain that I didn't like this guy enough to stick around. I had gotten a marketing job that I loved though. So, I decided to at least stick it out through our first anniversary.
If you know my husband, you know he is a kind, quiet guy who would do anything for anybody. He wasn't always that way. He went through some major thyroid issues prior to our wedding that didn't moderate until several years into marriage. That made him moody and easily annoyed. He was kind of arrogant and had the "I've got the world by the tail" mentality. I cringe even typing that because he is nowhere close to that today.
One month before our anniversary, his company downsized and he was let go. My $8/hour marketing job had become our only income. That job loss was the turning point for my husband. It had brought him to his knees. Crushed him in a way that forever changed him.
He was only out of work for about 45 days, but it took us months and maybe even years to overcome. The days, weeks and months following our first anniversary were a blur, but we obviously survived it.
This year certainly has nothing on that first year or many of the past 14. But here we are, still together and heading into our 15th anniversary.
With all that we've been through (and there's a whole bunch of ick that I haven't mentioned that's even worse), we are still together. We've beat the odds. With my background and all that we have endured, there was little hope we'd still be together today. We are about to prove the statistics wrong.
That feels good! It would be great if the next 15 were perfect, but I'll just be happy if I can look back and say "These past 15 were easier than the first 15."
As is always the case, I'm going to be brutally honest. Two weeks ago, I packed a bag and left my husband a detailed letter about how I needed a few days away from him to decide if I still wanted to be married.
There were a couple issues plaguing me. He had been gone the week prior and I had gone days with only 1-2 hours of sleep. I needed rest and sleep desperately. My days had become filled with little more than laundry, cleaning, cooking, taking care of dogs and repeating. My exhaustion only exacerbated the feelings of being a single wife. My husband had gotten so focused and wrapped up in his job, that he had little interest in or focus on anything else. I have certainly done that and maybe you have too. It is easy to let the most stressful issue in our lives consume us and for the ones we love the most to suffer.
Regardless, I'd had enough and needed a respite from it all. I needed things to change or I needed the strength to accept it. Needless-to-say, I came back home the same night and we left the next day for a weekend away. No cleaning, no cooking, no working, no email, no time spent apart. It was just what we needed. I know, packing and leaving was extreme but it certainly led to our quick realignment.
As terrible as that all sounds, it is NOTHING in comparison to the months leading up to our 1st wedding anniversary.
OK, I'm not going to sugar coat this at all. Our first entire year was pretty miserable. He had lived on his own for well over five years. He had his routine, his stuff, his ways and I was an intruder! I had no stability prior to moving and was a bit more free and loose with time and routine than he was. We clashed in big ways.
My grandma had died three days before our wedding. I didn't have time to grieve and I certainly didn't know how. On top of that, I had moved two hours away from everyone I knew. My husband, who I didn't like much that first year, was literally the only person I knew. I left a town of 2,000 people with only 1 gas station and a Pizza Hut and moved to a huge suburb of KC. My entire life had been turned upside down.
Because my husband was so regimented in his routine, we made the trip back to his parents EVERY weekend. No kidding! We spent not one weekend at home that entire first year. We also made six trips back that first year for more funerals. Our families both suffered lots of loss that first 12-15 months of our marriage.
Heading into our first anniversary, I was fairly certain that I didn't like this guy enough to stick around. I had gotten a marketing job that I loved though. So, I decided to at least stick it out through our first anniversary.
If you know my husband, you know he is a kind, quiet guy who would do anything for anybody. He wasn't always that way. He went through some major thyroid issues prior to our wedding that didn't moderate until several years into marriage. That made him moody and easily annoyed. He was kind of arrogant and had the "I've got the world by the tail" mentality. I cringe even typing that because he is nowhere close to that today.
One month before our anniversary, his company downsized and he was let go. My $8/hour marketing job had become our only income. That job loss was the turning point for my husband. It had brought him to his knees. Crushed him in a way that forever changed him.
He was only out of work for about 45 days, but it took us months and maybe even years to overcome. The days, weeks and months following our first anniversary were a blur, but we obviously survived it.
This year certainly has nothing on that first year or many of the past 14. But here we are, still together and heading into our 15th anniversary.
With all that we've been through (and there's a whole bunch of ick that I haven't mentioned that's even worse), we are still together. We've beat the odds. With my background and all that we have endured, there was little hope we'd still be together today. We are about to prove the statistics wrong.
That feels good! It would be great if the next 15 were perfect, but I'll just be happy if I can look back and say "These past 15 were easier than the first 15."
Friday, June 28, 2013
Glitter and Girly Stuff
This past year has been one of the toughest for me in regards to dealing with my infertility. At one time, I had over 20 friends and acquaintances who were either having babies, pregnant, just had babies or having grandchildren for the first time. Everywhere I looked around me, there were babies. Probably the hardest were people my age having babies. Happy for them, but it stung a lot worse than my younger friends having babies.
I have been quietly sitting in my own anguish while skirting around as many baby showers and hospital visits as possible. There have also been a few times that I've taken a leap out of my comfort zone and held babies. I had not held a baby since the day an ER doctor asked me if I wanted to hold my own stillborn baby boy. I found that it wasn't quite as painful as it had once been.
It was during my ride home from a friend's house today when I realized that I really am fortunate to have friends with small children.
Over the past year, I've had the opportunity to spend time with a beautiful, young mama of two little girls. Until baby sissy arrived a few weeks ago, I got to spend time with the nearly two-year-old almost every week. Besides my nieces and nephews, she's probably the only toddler I have spent much time with.
Let me tell you, I absolutely love this little girl. She's such a doll. When she says my name, which isn't easy for a kid, it just melts my heart. She's got a huge imagination and is so well-behaved.
I got to spend some time helping with the prep work for her upcoming birthday party. It was fun to spend time with my dear friend and I wanted to help her out as much as possible. A hungry newborn who has an internal feeding clock that is timed with absolute accuracy keeps her pretty worn out.
I realized today that I wasn't just helping my friend. This has been an opportunity to do something I wouldn't otherwise be able to do. Purple princess birthday decorations for a little girl are full of glitter and shine and fluff and fun. Something I will never, ever get to experience on my own. But, thanks to my dear friend, I got to be surrounded by all of it. My life would never offer me a chance to be covered in glitter, glue and tissue paper scraps. It was so much fun!
It might not always be easy. In fact, there are going to be lots of times which are down right painful reminders of what I don't have. But, those experiences like helping with 2 year-old party decorations make it so worth it!
I have been quietly sitting in my own anguish while skirting around as many baby showers and hospital visits as possible. There have also been a few times that I've taken a leap out of my comfort zone and held babies. I had not held a baby since the day an ER doctor asked me if I wanted to hold my own stillborn baby boy. I found that it wasn't quite as painful as it had once been.
It was during my ride home from a friend's house today when I realized that I really am fortunate to have friends with small children.
Over the past year, I've had the opportunity to spend time with a beautiful, young mama of two little girls. Until baby sissy arrived a few weeks ago, I got to spend time with the nearly two-year-old almost every week. Besides my nieces and nephews, she's probably the only toddler I have spent much time with.
Let me tell you, I absolutely love this little girl. She's such a doll. When she says my name, which isn't easy for a kid, it just melts my heart. She's got a huge imagination and is so well-behaved.
I got to spend some time helping with the prep work for her upcoming birthday party. It was fun to spend time with my dear friend and I wanted to help her out as much as possible. A hungry newborn who has an internal feeding clock that is timed with absolute accuracy keeps her pretty worn out.
I realized today that I wasn't just helping my friend. This has been an opportunity to do something I wouldn't otherwise be able to do. Purple princess birthday decorations for a little girl are full of glitter and shine and fluff and fun. Something I will never, ever get to experience on my own. But, thanks to my dear friend, I got to be surrounded by all of it. My life would never offer me a chance to be covered in glitter, glue and tissue paper scraps. It was so much fun!
It might not always be easy. In fact, there are going to be lots of times which are down right painful reminders of what I don't have. But, those experiences like helping with 2 year-old party decorations make it so worth it!
Sunday, June 16, 2013
A Father's Day Unlike Most
Usually, Father's Day would be a tough, tough time for me. Between having no reason to be thankful for my sperm donor and not being able to make my husband a father, I usually sulk the day away as I dutifully make the trip back to see my father-in-law.
Today has been a bit different in some respects. Sure, I am still angry and hurt over what is not. But, this year I have held onto something a little better than years past.
During our recent trip to Branson with my brother's family, I had a chance to have a short yet sweet conversation with my little brother.
We introduced them to our favorite dessert diner on the strip. My nephew threw a giant size fit during our time there because his parents refused to buy him his own dessert. The desserts average about $7.50 per plate and are huge! I usually end up with just a piece of cake or a scoop of ice cream because I can't even finish one of their speciality funnel cakes. These things are massive with strawberries, two scoops of ice cream, whipped cream and a cherry.
My brother made the right decision, the kid couldn't have finished an entire plate right after we had just eaten ginormous burgers from another diner. Regardless, my nephew showed his more childish side and caused a scene.
The next day was the day they went trout fishing. That gave them several hours of father son time together.
After they arrived back at the condo, my brother and I sat at the table while everyone watched tv and busied themselves with other things.
My brother shared with me that he had talked to my nephew about his behavior the night before. He said he made my nephew use his lawn mowing money to pay for his fishing permit. He said he had planned to pay for it, but knew it would mean more to him if he had to sacrifice for it.
It took my nephew a long time to catch a fish and they got fairly close to giving up before they caught anything. He said he asked my nephew what it would have felt like to him to have paid for the permit and not caught anything. My nephew's response was that it would have been a waste of money, like throwing it away. My brother said he told him that if he'd have gotten an entire dessert and not been able to eat it all, that would have been like throwing away money.
To you, that might seem like a simple thing to teach your child. For my brother, it's a big thing. My brother finished our conversation by telling me that he had to teach his kids that kind of thing because nobody taught him that.
He's right! Nobody taught any of us about money or savings or check writing. We saw a good example of how to get yourself in debt or steal or write bad checks.
Both of my brothers had problems with writing bad checks. Two days before my wedding, I drove my then 19 year-old little brother around to 21 places to pay for bad checks. Some were written for $100s and others for under $5. My grandpa covered it all. Bad check fees, bank fees, check cost...he paid it all. One by one, we picked them all up and got his name removed from humiliation lists of bad check writers.
That was probably the first experience he had with anyone teaching him the difference between the right way to handle a checking account and the wrong way. I by no means have gone unscathed in this area, but I haven't ever written a bad check.
I thought about that conversation today, repeatedly. My brother isn't a perfect dad. He may not even be a good dad by any stretch of the imagination. But, he's a better dad than he was ever taught to be. He's the best dad that he can be given the examples he had growing up.
I am so thankful for all of that. I'm thankful that in so many ways, he is breaking the cycle he came from. It's not perfect, but I at least got a perfect glimpse at the progress he has made. I am thankful today that he is worthy to be celebrated on a day like today even though his role model is not.
With any luck, he will continue to mature and become less and less like his dad. That's all I can ever hope for him and his children.
Today has been a bit different in some respects. Sure, I am still angry and hurt over what is not. But, this year I have held onto something a little better than years past.
During our recent trip to Branson with my brother's family, I had a chance to have a short yet sweet conversation with my little brother.
We introduced them to our favorite dessert diner on the strip. My nephew threw a giant size fit during our time there because his parents refused to buy him his own dessert. The desserts average about $7.50 per plate and are huge! I usually end up with just a piece of cake or a scoop of ice cream because I can't even finish one of their speciality funnel cakes. These things are massive with strawberries, two scoops of ice cream, whipped cream and a cherry.
My brother made the right decision, the kid couldn't have finished an entire plate right after we had just eaten ginormous burgers from another diner. Regardless, my nephew showed his more childish side and caused a scene.
The next day was the day they went trout fishing. That gave them several hours of father son time together.
After they arrived back at the condo, my brother and I sat at the table while everyone watched tv and busied themselves with other things.
My brother shared with me that he had talked to my nephew about his behavior the night before. He said he made my nephew use his lawn mowing money to pay for his fishing permit. He said he had planned to pay for it, but knew it would mean more to him if he had to sacrifice for it.
It took my nephew a long time to catch a fish and they got fairly close to giving up before they caught anything. He said he asked my nephew what it would have felt like to him to have paid for the permit and not caught anything. My nephew's response was that it would have been a waste of money, like throwing it away. My brother said he told him that if he'd have gotten an entire dessert and not been able to eat it all, that would have been like throwing away money.
To you, that might seem like a simple thing to teach your child. For my brother, it's a big thing. My brother finished our conversation by telling me that he had to teach his kids that kind of thing because nobody taught him that.
He's right! Nobody taught any of us about money or savings or check writing. We saw a good example of how to get yourself in debt or steal or write bad checks.
Both of my brothers had problems with writing bad checks. Two days before my wedding, I drove my then 19 year-old little brother around to 21 places to pay for bad checks. Some were written for $100s and others for under $5. My grandpa covered it all. Bad check fees, bank fees, check cost...he paid it all. One by one, we picked them all up and got his name removed from humiliation lists of bad check writers.
That was probably the first experience he had with anyone teaching him the difference between the right way to handle a checking account and the wrong way. I by no means have gone unscathed in this area, but I haven't ever written a bad check.
I thought about that conversation today, repeatedly. My brother isn't a perfect dad. He may not even be a good dad by any stretch of the imagination. But, he's a better dad than he was ever taught to be. He's the best dad that he can be given the examples he had growing up.
I am so thankful for all of that. I'm thankful that in so many ways, he is breaking the cycle he came from. It's not perfect, but I at least got a perfect glimpse at the progress he has made. I am thankful today that he is worthy to be celebrated on a day like today even though his role model is not.
With any luck, he will continue to mature and become less and less like his dad. That's all I can ever hope for him and his children.
Friday, June 14, 2013
TGIF
Oh my word am I glad it is Friday. I don't work, so I usually don't get excited for the weekend. However, this week is different.
The two weeks prior to this one were hellish at times and quite physically and mentally draining. I had been looking forward to this week for several days, if not weeks. I knew it would bring me some rest and relaxation that I desperately needed.
Oh but I was so wrong.
The most dreaded phone call you can get from your spouse while they are on their way home from work is the "Honey, don't freak out but I've been in an accident." I've gotten a few of those in the past 15 years. The 2nd most dreaded call you can get at that time is "Honey, don't be mad but I have to leave town...in the morning!"
Damn it!
Literally, my husband booked his flight at 7 pm and left at 7 am for the entire week. Completely unexpected and certainly the curve ball in my week.
Things usually fall apart while he is gone, especially me. Things break. I don't sleep. This week was no exception.
Tuesday things went well and I was sure this time would be different, despite the sleep deprivation. My goal this week was to repaint our patio table and chairs. I got them painted no problem. One minor problem though. The paint is oil based and doesn't come off anything easily. No husband, means I have no way of knowing where the cleaners are for the paint. No problem, throw the cheap brush away and life is good, right? Well, yes except I've been sporting white paint splatters on my legs and feet all week like a trophy. Oh yea, I can't forget to mention the giant mess of paint that I got in my hair. How does that happen? I know it's quite trendy to have color streaked hair, but I'm not much into it. So, curly styling it has to be for now until I can get it all picked out. Goodness, that stuff is like hair concrete. With the curls, it's a bit harder to see...but I KNOW!
As I sat inside on Wednesday morning, I heard a giant swoosh outside. Hmm...that wasn't the mailman. A peak out the window and I saw the culprit. A giant limb had broken and fallen to the ground. My neighbors were of little help. One of them exclaimed, "That made me crap my pants!" The other stated, "You know you need to get that out of the street."
Well the darn thing was barely in the street and they both watched while I unsuccessfully tried to move it. Have I mentioned what classy neighbors I have?
So, I headed to the backyard to water plants since we've had some really hot weather this week. My spray nozzle was stuck, so there was no soaker hose watering. My super strong husband always puts those things on so tight.
Before he left, my husband asked me to pull the wooden forms off the concrete patio so that it would finish curing. Yea right! After I failed with the sprayer, I knew the forms were far beyond my scope of ability. Let's face it, I don't have a lot of upper body strength and I think that task might have been outside of my pay grade.
Thankfully, a couple friends of ours came over and took care of the manly tasks that needed done. Whew! Only half way through the week and I surely would be able to relax the rest of it.
Wait just a minute!
Have I mentioned that I don't sleep while my husband is gone? Yes. Have I also mentioned that one of said classy neighbors picked this week to install a pool? No. Oh my. Starting on Wednesday, every morning there has been large equipment running right outside my bedroom window by 7 am. Fun, right? What's more exciting is that these are the heavy drinkers who often have parties (not loud, just late). How much more fun is that going to make the summer for us? Ugh!
Thursday night finally came and I knew I only had one more night alone. Usually, I find comfort in that and can cat nap my way through the night. Oh but wait....not this time.
As I folded the 10 loads of laundry I had ignored since last week, I heard strange noises come from the front of the house. With a large kitchen knife in hand (that's all I had), I searched the house. Nothing! Every time I would step out of the bedroom, it would stop. The dogs were exhausted and unphased by it, which was odd since they often fuss and bark when a car door shuts a block away.
Needless to say, I stacked and piled and pushed furniture in front of all the doors. Yea, because nothing says safe like potentially blocking the exits for an intruder to leave if they are hiding in my house.
The noise never stopped! I never slept! Ugh!
This morning, I was digging in the mess of tools in the garage looking for the stapler. Ok, I know you are probably thinking that at this point I probably shouldn't be operating anything potentially dangerous, but that's just the kind of risk taker I am. Ha!
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a furry thing jump from a box. OY! The worst thing we've ever had in the garage is a mouse and a baby bird. This ain't no mouse. I don't know what it is, except furry.
No problem, I'll back my car out and turn my dog loose. She's part Cocker Spaniel and often hunts. She's got quite a record of dead mice, bunnies and birds. I knew she'd be all over it. I tried to get the little critter stirred up so she would jump right on it.
Nope! She plopped down on the concrete floor cocking her head from one side to another. I'm positive she was saying, "I'm tired. You kept me up all night long. You chase that stupid critter while I sit here and laugh at you."
Finally, my husband will be home sometime around midnight. Goodness, I cannot wait!
The two weeks prior to this one were hellish at times and quite physically and mentally draining. I had been looking forward to this week for several days, if not weeks. I knew it would bring me some rest and relaxation that I desperately needed.
Oh but I was so wrong.
The most dreaded phone call you can get from your spouse while they are on their way home from work is the "Honey, don't freak out but I've been in an accident." I've gotten a few of those in the past 15 years. The 2nd most dreaded call you can get at that time is "Honey, don't be mad but I have to leave town...in the morning!"
Damn it!
Literally, my husband booked his flight at 7 pm and left at 7 am for the entire week. Completely unexpected and certainly the curve ball in my week.
Things usually fall apart while he is gone, especially me. Things break. I don't sleep. This week was no exception.
Tuesday things went well and I was sure this time would be different, despite the sleep deprivation. My goal this week was to repaint our patio table and chairs. I got them painted no problem. One minor problem though. The paint is oil based and doesn't come off anything easily. No husband, means I have no way of knowing where the cleaners are for the paint. No problem, throw the cheap brush away and life is good, right? Well, yes except I've been sporting white paint splatters on my legs and feet all week like a trophy. Oh yea, I can't forget to mention the giant mess of paint that I got in my hair. How does that happen? I know it's quite trendy to have color streaked hair, but I'm not much into it. So, curly styling it has to be for now until I can get it all picked out. Goodness, that stuff is like hair concrete. With the curls, it's a bit harder to see...but I KNOW!
As I sat inside on Wednesday morning, I heard a giant swoosh outside. Hmm...that wasn't the mailman. A peak out the window and I saw the culprit. A giant limb had broken and fallen to the ground. My neighbors were of little help. One of them exclaimed, "That made me crap my pants!" The other stated, "You know you need to get that out of the street."
Well the darn thing was barely in the street and they both watched while I unsuccessfully tried to move it. Have I mentioned what classy neighbors I have?
So, I headed to the backyard to water plants since we've had some really hot weather this week. My spray nozzle was stuck, so there was no soaker hose watering. My super strong husband always puts those things on so tight.
Before he left, my husband asked me to pull the wooden forms off the concrete patio so that it would finish curing. Yea right! After I failed with the sprayer, I knew the forms were far beyond my scope of ability. Let's face it, I don't have a lot of upper body strength and I think that task might have been outside of my pay grade.
Thankfully, a couple friends of ours came over and took care of the manly tasks that needed done. Whew! Only half way through the week and I surely would be able to relax the rest of it.
Wait just a minute!
Have I mentioned that I don't sleep while my husband is gone? Yes. Have I also mentioned that one of said classy neighbors picked this week to install a pool? No. Oh my. Starting on Wednesday, every morning there has been large equipment running right outside my bedroom window by 7 am. Fun, right? What's more exciting is that these are the heavy drinkers who often have parties (not loud, just late). How much more fun is that going to make the summer for us? Ugh!
Thursday night finally came and I knew I only had one more night alone. Usually, I find comfort in that and can cat nap my way through the night. Oh but wait....not this time.
As I folded the 10 loads of laundry I had ignored since last week, I heard strange noises come from the front of the house. With a large kitchen knife in hand (that's all I had), I searched the house. Nothing! Every time I would step out of the bedroom, it would stop. The dogs were exhausted and unphased by it, which was odd since they often fuss and bark when a car door shuts a block away.
Needless to say, I stacked and piled and pushed furniture in front of all the doors. Yea, because nothing says safe like potentially blocking the exits for an intruder to leave if they are hiding in my house.
The noise never stopped! I never slept! Ugh!
This morning, I was digging in the mess of tools in the garage looking for the stapler. Ok, I know you are probably thinking that at this point I probably shouldn't be operating anything potentially dangerous, but that's just the kind of risk taker I am. Ha!
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a furry thing jump from a box. OY! The worst thing we've ever had in the garage is a mouse and a baby bird. This ain't no mouse. I don't know what it is, except furry.
No problem, I'll back my car out and turn my dog loose. She's part Cocker Spaniel and often hunts. She's got quite a record of dead mice, bunnies and birds. I knew she'd be all over it. I tried to get the little critter stirred up so she would jump right on it.
Nope! She plopped down on the concrete floor cocking her head from one side to another. I'm positive she was saying, "I'm tired. You kept me up all night long. You chase that stupid critter while I sit here and laugh at you."
Finally, my husband will be home sometime around midnight. Goodness, I cannot wait!
Monday, June 10, 2013
The Alzheimer's Elephant
Up until this weekend, I had always considered myself to be patient and compassionate with those afflicted with an illness. I think this weekend showed me that I am actually neither of those things when it comes to Alzheimer's.
This wasn't the first time I have spent extended periods of time with my mother-in-law since her diagnosis last year. It wasn't even the first time I had spent multiple days with her since then either. It was just worse this time.
She was initially given a general dementia diagnosis in January 2012 with her first visible signs showing up in November 2011. We were told she had an early onset of a rapidly progressing dementia. She spent over a year going from one medication to another, while the family struggled to accept the diagnosis for what it was. All the while, her memory and mental stability was nose diving.
Last month, she finally had an appointment at a memory clinic with a doctor who specializes in dementia. After a day of testing, he determined that she had a mild case of Alzheimer's. Keep in mind, of the family who attended the appointment with her nobody asks questions and nobody really understands what the doctors say. Not to mention, most of them hadn't really accepted she couldn't make a full recovery from this. So, it is my humble opinion that they heard what they wanted to hear and failed to get all the information they could. Regardless, they were told the kind she has is not hereditary and that she would remain stable for the next several years.
Let me tell you something, this woman is not stable. She continues to deteriorate mentally. This doctor hasn't watched the last 18 months and the continuous decline. He didn't see in that one day how much she has changed over just the past two months. In fact, I didn't even have to be there to know that the family wasn't even completely honest about her behavior.
During times when she isn't around or people are alone with my father-in-law, he slowly begins to open up and share the part of life that nobody knows. He confided in my husband several things this weekend that probably should be shared with everyone in the family. It's a huge concern that there maybe financial issues (which my husband and I saw hints of clear back in 2011) and there is some violent behavioral issues.
This weekend was so difficult. She, the Alzheimer's, it was the giant, big fat elephant in the room that nobody really wanted to talk about. You could see it on everyone face. You could feel the thickness of it in the air. It was the source of so much anger and hurt. But, as a group they couldn't bring themselves to discuss it.
It was almost textbook grief. Each family member in their own way was exhibiting some stage of grief. Every one of them could see that she is becoming this empty shell and they all were grieving what they are slowly losing. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. I saw all of it except acceptance. I've never watched this slow process of grieving, but I'm guessing the acceptance must come with the physical loss.
Yes, I get to go through it too. Regardless of the relationship we've had in the past, she is still my mother-in-law and she's been in my life for nearly 20 years. For me, I realize that I am firmly into the anger phase of this process.
I would much rather have her be the crabby woman who only tolerated me instead of how she is now. I was beyond frustrated with her this weekend.
The questions....oh my, they never stopped. She continued to ask what things were. A fly on the window; owl statue in the garden; blanket on the couch. She would ask if she could use the restroom. That was all after she argued with me over who here son was.
If it hadn't been for the questions, she wouldn't have spoken at all. She mainly sat. She would shuffle from inside to out. She work a t-shirt, under a sweatshirt with a giant heavy hooded sweater over it all. When she was outside, she wore the hood on her head. It was 75 degrees outside and she sat in the sun.
She spent an enormous amount of time in the bathroom and barely ate anything. She wasn't sick, this is evidently a routine thing for her. She doesn't know what is happening or what to do, so she goes to the bathroom. From my observation, I believe she goes a lot to avoid accidents because she really doesn't know when she has to go.
She wore the same clothes two days in a row. I know this is a small thing, but it makes me angry that nobody will correct her. I'm sure nobody wants to deal with the behavioral side of it when she doesn't deal well with being told what to do.
I'm angry that in the past 18 months she's lost the ability to have a rational conversation. It makes me mad that someone has to physically watch her all the time. I'm angry that she has to be told over and over who I am and that she constantly asks where my kids are. Not angry with her or at her, but at the situation.
It is aggravating to watch it all happen and here the excuses and see the denial. There was a point toward the end of each day when she would finally just go sit in the truck. Usually at least 90 minutes prior to leaving, she would go sit in the hot truck and stare into the sky.
If this is mild, I hate to see what worse is for her. If this is stable and how she will be for the next few years, it's still going to be hard on everyone.
A friend of mine often says "Alzheimer's Sucks." I believe she is right.
This wasn't the first time I have spent extended periods of time with my mother-in-law since her diagnosis last year. It wasn't even the first time I had spent multiple days with her since then either. It was just worse this time.
She was initially given a general dementia diagnosis in January 2012 with her first visible signs showing up in November 2011. We were told she had an early onset of a rapidly progressing dementia. She spent over a year going from one medication to another, while the family struggled to accept the diagnosis for what it was. All the while, her memory and mental stability was nose diving.
Last month, she finally had an appointment at a memory clinic with a doctor who specializes in dementia. After a day of testing, he determined that she had a mild case of Alzheimer's. Keep in mind, of the family who attended the appointment with her nobody asks questions and nobody really understands what the doctors say. Not to mention, most of them hadn't really accepted she couldn't make a full recovery from this. So, it is my humble opinion that they heard what they wanted to hear and failed to get all the information they could. Regardless, they were told the kind she has is not hereditary and that she would remain stable for the next several years.
Let me tell you something, this woman is not stable. She continues to deteriorate mentally. This doctor hasn't watched the last 18 months and the continuous decline. He didn't see in that one day how much she has changed over just the past two months. In fact, I didn't even have to be there to know that the family wasn't even completely honest about her behavior.
During times when she isn't around or people are alone with my father-in-law, he slowly begins to open up and share the part of life that nobody knows. He confided in my husband several things this weekend that probably should be shared with everyone in the family. It's a huge concern that there maybe financial issues (which my husband and I saw hints of clear back in 2011) and there is some violent behavioral issues.
This weekend was so difficult. She, the Alzheimer's, it was the giant, big fat elephant in the room that nobody really wanted to talk about. You could see it on everyone face. You could feel the thickness of it in the air. It was the source of so much anger and hurt. But, as a group they couldn't bring themselves to discuss it.
It was almost textbook grief. Each family member in their own way was exhibiting some stage of grief. Every one of them could see that she is becoming this empty shell and they all were grieving what they are slowly losing. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. I saw all of it except acceptance. I've never watched this slow process of grieving, but I'm guessing the acceptance must come with the physical loss.
Yes, I get to go through it too. Regardless of the relationship we've had in the past, she is still my mother-in-law and she's been in my life for nearly 20 years. For me, I realize that I am firmly into the anger phase of this process.
I would much rather have her be the crabby woman who only tolerated me instead of how she is now. I was beyond frustrated with her this weekend.
The questions....oh my, they never stopped. She continued to ask what things were. A fly on the window; owl statue in the garden; blanket on the couch. She would ask if she could use the restroom. That was all after she argued with me over who here son was.
If it hadn't been for the questions, she wouldn't have spoken at all. She mainly sat. She would shuffle from inside to out. She work a t-shirt, under a sweatshirt with a giant heavy hooded sweater over it all. When she was outside, she wore the hood on her head. It was 75 degrees outside and she sat in the sun.
She spent an enormous amount of time in the bathroom and barely ate anything. She wasn't sick, this is evidently a routine thing for her. She doesn't know what is happening or what to do, so she goes to the bathroom. From my observation, I believe she goes a lot to avoid accidents because she really doesn't know when she has to go.
She wore the same clothes two days in a row. I know this is a small thing, but it makes me angry that nobody will correct her. I'm sure nobody wants to deal with the behavioral side of it when she doesn't deal well with being told what to do.
I'm angry that in the past 18 months she's lost the ability to have a rational conversation. It makes me mad that someone has to physically watch her all the time. I'm angry that she has to be told over and over who I am and that she constantly asks where my kids are. Not angry with her or at her, but at the situation.
It is aggravating to watch it all happen and here the excuses and see the denial. There was a point toward the end of each day when she would finally just go sit in the truck. Usually at least 90 minutes prior to leaving, she would go sit in the hot truck and stare into the sky.
If this is mild, I hate to see what worse is for her. If this is stable and how she will be for the next few years, it's still going to be hard on everyone.
A friend of mine often says "Alzheimer's Sucks." I believe she is right.
Friday, June 7, 2013
The Patio..duh, duh, duh...
I am sitting here in what feels like the 98th hour of a blackhawk helicopter hovering over my head. Ok, that might be a little over dramatized but you get the picture. It has been about 10 hours over two days of a jackhammer running just outside my backdoor.
My husband, his two brothers and his dad are busting out a patio and it's noisy! It's the latest ordeal in our money pit. Our house really isn't a money pit, it's just reached "that age" where everything likes to fall apart.
The year of drought followed by winter and spring of abundant moisture has left us with a basement wall which has a growing crack. The wall itself has begun to buckle and press in toward the basement. Evidently we will have a hefty job to do still, but first the flow of water must be altered. The only way to do keep the abundance of water flowing down into the wall is to tear out our sloping patio and repour it.
I'm not sure what that jumbled mess sounds like to you, but to me it sounds like more money we don't have needing to be spent on the house to prevent a catastrophe from happening. Thankfully my husband's family is full of guys well versed in concrete, so most of them have agreed to help. Still expensive! Is there ever anything that happens to your home that is urgent or emergency that is cheap? NO!
Heavy lifting and dust and jackhammers aren't my thing. Really, that can't be. I'm not physically cut out for that kind of stuff. No joking. So, I have assumed the role of dutiful wife.
That's no joke either. I've prepped and cleaned and cleaned and prepped for the past several days for the deluge of people who will be in and out the next few days. We rarely have guests, so it's a big deal. An even bigger deal is planning for a round up of people who definitely without question do not like me.
It's hard to get pumped for that. It doesn't feel like a labor of love when you know it won't be good enough. The food I cook won't taste right. The house won't be clean enough. I won't be social enough.
I have and always will be a white trash girl from a dumpy little town who stole the heart of their first born son and big brother. I will never, ever fit the bill for what they had hoped for in a daughter-in-law. But, this is one of those times I am supposed to forget about that and pretend as though I'm one of them.
Really, I suppose that doesn't matter. What matters right now is that most of my husband's family is coming together to help him out. They are all working together for a common goal and for that I am thankful.
There is one very twisted up/down side in all of this. My once very opinionated mother-in-law is now much more mellow. It is hard to believe. On her first trip to our house as a married couple, she completely rearranged our kitchen drawers and cabinets because I hadn't been smart enough to do it correctly. Now, she sets on the couch with a blank stare and an occasional question.
It might be the questions that are the hardest. She questions who the guys are working on the patio; all her sons and husband. She asks where the kids are; we don't have any. She asks me how work is going; I haven't worked in three years. She asks how long it's going to take; I don't have a clue. She asks again how long it's going to take; still don't know. She asks if we have moved the bathroom; no we have not. And....repeat....
Again, I'm so thankful that the guys are here to help their brother and son. He needed that. He needed his family and I am glad they are here with him. I am grateful that tomorrow will bring a rare opportunity for me to have his niece and nephew. And well, since I'm a "feeder" I'll have a chance to feed a large group of people.
My husband, his two brothers and his dad are busting out a patio and it's noisy! It's the latest ordeal in our money pit. Our house really isn't a money pit, it's just reached "that age" where everything likes to fall apart.
The year of drought followed by winter and spring of abundant moisture has left us with a basement wall which has a growing crack. The wall itself has begun to buckle and press in toward the basement. Evidently we will have a hefty job to do still, but first the flow of water must be altered. The only way to do keep the abundance of water flowing down into the wall is to tear out our sloping patio and repour it.
I'm not sure what that jumbled mess sounds like to you, but to me it sounds like more money we don't have needing to be spent on the house to prevent a catastrophe from happening. Thankfully my husband's family is full of guys well versed in concrete, so most of them have agreed to help. Still expensive! Is there ever anything that happens to your home that is urgent or emergency that is cheap? NO!
Heavy lifting and dust and jackhammers aren't my thing. Really, that can't be. I'm not physically cut out for that kind of stuff. No joking. So, I have assumed the role of dutiful wife.
That's no joke either. I've prepped and cleaned and cleaned and prepped for the past several days for the deluge of people who will be in and out the next few days. We rarely have guests, so it's a big deal. An even bigger deal is planning for a round up of people who definitely without question do not like me.
It's hard to get pumped for that. It doesn't feel like a labor of love when you know it won't be good enough. The food I cook won't taste right. The house won't be clean enough. I won't be social enough.
I have and always will be a white trash girl from a dumpy little town who stole the heart of their first born son and big brother. I will never, ever fit the bill for what they had hoped for in a daughter-in-law. But, this is one of those times I am supposed to forget about that and pretend as though I'm one of them.
Really, I suppose that doesn't matter. What matters right now is that most of my husband's family is coming together to help him out. They are all working together for a common goal and for that I am thankful.
There is one very twisted up/down side in all of this. My once very opinionated mother-in-law is now much more mellow. It is hard to believe. On her first trip to our house as a married couple, she completely rearranged our kitchen drawers and cabinets because I hadn't been smart enough to do it correctly. Now, she sets on the couch with a blank stare and an occasional question.
It might be the questions that are the hardest. She questions who the guys are working on the patio; all her sons and husband. She asks where the kids are; we don't have any. She asks me how work is going; I haven't worked in three years. She asks how long it's going to take; I don't have a clue. She asks again how long it's going to take; still don't know. She asks if we have moved the bathroom; no we have not. And....repeat....
Again, I'm so thankful that the guys are here to help their brother and son. He needed that. He needed his family and I am glad they are here with him. I am grateful that tomorrow will bring a rare opportunity for me to have his niece and nephew. And well, since I'm a "feeder" I'll have a chance to feed a large group of people.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Festival Yuck
Isn't strange how your subconscious is clearly aware of something long before you are?
This weekend was miserable. My husband was in a bad mood, but so was I. My mood was already in a nose dive long before he admitted his own crabbiness. I had no clue why. The only thing I could come up with was knowing my weekly routine was going to be non-existent. And sure, that's always enough to cause problems for me.
As I listened to a commercial on the radio this afternoon, I realized this weekend there is a festival in town. I've seen the signs, but it just didn't register. It's a festival that we used to attend and have a great time.
Unfortunately, that brings my parents to town for several days this week. I can't go into details on his part of it because I would hate for anyone to be looking for them.
I purposely don't go to the town they live in and I hate it that they would ever come here. I also know in years past, my dad has taken advantage of the opportunity to harass me and generally cause me pain.
How do you prep for that? He knows what he's doing. He doesn't put himself in positions where he could get caught, so we have no grounds for an order of protection against him.
There's no way to prep. The disgust, anxiety and anger over it just has to ooze it's way out while I try to keep it all together. I would struggle with that even with my regular routine and support, but this year I'll have to do it alone.
This weekend starts a pattern of them being nearby several times a month until fall, but this is certainly the closest they get. Thankfully!
It's just not what I needed in an already difficult week.
This weekend was miserable. My husband was in a bad mood, but so was I. My mood was already in a nose dive long before he admitted his own crabbiness. I had no clue why. The only thing I could come up with was knowing my weekly routine was going to be non-existent. And sure, that's always enough to cause problems for me.
As I listened to a commercial on the radio this afternoon, I realized this weekend there is a festival in town. I've seen the signs, but it just didn't register. It's a festival that we used to attend and have a great time.
Unfortunately, that brings my parents to town for several days this week. I can't go into details on his part of it because I would hate for anyone to be looking for them.
I purposely don't go to the town they live in and I hate it that they would ever come here. I also know in years past, my dad has taken advantage of the opportunity to harass me and generally cause me pain.
How do you prep for that? He knows what he's doing. He doesn't put himself in positions where he could get caught, so we have no grounds for an order of protection against him.
There's no way to prep. The disgust, anxiety and anger over it just has to ooze it's way out while I try to keep it all together. I would struggle with that even with my regular routine and support, but this year I'll have to do it alone.
This weekend starts a pattern of them being nearby several times a month until fall, but this is certainly the closest they get. Thankfully!
It's just not what I needed in an already difficult week.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Day Like Today
Today was one of those days that makes me feel happy and sad all at the same time.
It started early, way early. Three of us took off for a giant tent sale at 5 am. The shopping was overwhelming and fun and exciting. It just wasn't the best part of the day.
Early and me as co-pilot doesn't work well, so we started off going to Kansas but ended up only adding a few minutes onto the trip. Nobody got mad, we laughed and checked out the sites.
When you are in line with 30 and then 50 and then eventually a couple hundred other women, what is there to do? We talked, enjoyed coffee and pastries and talked some more. It is so rare for me to have time with a couple ladies I don't know well and genuinely enjoy the conversation.
We all embarked on a unique shopping experience after our three hour wait. Regardless of what we said or did, we will forever be bonded by our experience and the multiple layers of craziness we witnessed. As we picked through the tables and tables of stuff, some things were very clear. We all three share some similar tastes and some very different ones. We also agree that next year we will arrive at least an hour earlier so that we too can unleash our inner level of crazy and get even better deals.
After we had scoured every last inch of the tent, we paid and loaded our new prized possessions and headed to shop the rest of the stores. It was nice to stroll through the stores without taking an elbow to the chest or smashed toes.
We sat down for lunch at a cafe and again, the conversation was richer than the food.
It was such a great day.
It's hard for me to not have a touch of sadness about it. I know not everyday can be this way. But, I only get a couple days like this a year. It is so rare for me to get to spend time with multiple people when there isn't an expectation or it doesn't involve completing a task.
What is far more rare for me is to have an extended period of time when I get to feel normal. Like just one of the girls hanging out with the girls.
Again, I know that everyday isn't that way. Most people are busy enough that they only get this type of interaction once or twice a month. I'd just like to have it more than once or twice a year.
Oh how I long to have more days like this. Days when just being me and being with other people can collide and feel so normal.
It started early, way early. Three of us took off for a giant tent sale at 5 am. The shopping was overwhelming and fun and exciting. It just wasn't the best part of the day.
Early and me as co-pilot doesn't work well, so we started off going to Kansas but ended up only adding a few minutes onto the trip. Nobody got mad, we laughed and checked out the sites.
When you are in line with 30 and then 50 and then eventually a couple hundred other women, what is there to do? We talked, enjoyed coffee and pastries and talked some more. It is so rare for me to have time with a couple ladies I don't know well and genuinely enjoy the conversation.
We all embarked on a unique shopping experience after our three hour wait. Regardless of what we said or did, we will forever be bonded by our experience and the multiple layers of craziness we witnessed. As we picked through the tables and tables of stuff, some things were very clear. We all three share some similar tastes and some very different ones. We also agree that next year we will arrive at least an hour earlier so that we too can unleash our inner level of crazy and get even better deals.
After we had scoured every last inch of the tent, we paid and loaded our new prized possessions and headed to shop the rest of the stores. It was nice to stroll through the stores without taking an elbow to the chest or smashed toes.
We sat down for lunch at a cafe and again, the conversation was richer than the food.
It was such a great day.
It's hard for me to not have a touch of sadness about it. I know not everyday can be this way. But, I only get a couple days like this a year. It is so rare for me to get to spend time with multiple people when there isn't an expectation or it doesn't involve completing a task.
What is far more rare for me is to have an extended period of time when I get to feel normal. Like just one of the girls hanging out with the girls.
Again, I know that everyday isn't that way. Most people are busy enough that they only get this type of interaction once or twice a month. I'd just like to have it more than once or twice a year.
Oh how I long to have more days like this. Days when just being me and being with other people can collide and feel so normal.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Fun Filled Weekend
Despite the few little emotional things, our trip to Branson with my brother's family was a success.
We all arrived in Branson way earlier than originally planned, which allowed us to have the afternoon and evening together.
The kids decided they wanted to have chicken from the giant chicken place. After dinner, we headed to the Landing to walk around. For the end of May, it was incredibly cool but the kids enjoyed some snow cones while we watched the fountain and fire show.
Our condo was a large two-bedroom that had all the amenities and gave us access to the resort pools and hot tubs. The kids were super excited to hit the pool after we returned to the condo. Point Royale resort in Branson is top notch if you ever get a chance to stay. The property manager we rent from is super reasonable on rates too.
Saturday we headed to Silver Dollar City. The kids spent the first half of the day riding one roller coaster after another. We met back up for a BBQ lunch, giant strawberry pie and followed it all with a train ride. The kids took off for more rides while we wondered through the shops.
On the way back, my brother stopped at a nearby dam area where men were fly fishing for trout. They ran into a nice older man who promised to help my nephew learn to fly fish the next morning and guaranteed him he would catch a trout. A big promise for a kid who easily gets disappointed.
That evening, we headed to Mel's Hard Luck Diner for dinner. The burgers are huge and the wait staff all take turns singing. We split up after dinner. My brother took the kids mini golfing while my husband took the ladies shopping.
We all met back up at Cakes N Cream for some giant sized funnel cakes covered in ice cream and strawberries.
By the time we got back to the condo, everyone was exhausted. No swimming, we all went straight to bed. What a long day.
Sunday morning, my nephew and brother headed to the fishing hole. We checked on them several hours later and found them disappointed. The man hadn't shown up and they had not caught anything. Shortly after we left, the man showed up and my nephew started catching trout. He was a happy boy.
Meanwhile, we hit the landing one more time and Fuddruckers for lunch.
Later that afternoon, they all left and we took a nap. Whew! What a whirlwind weekend.
There's certainly more I could share. There was so much talking. It's hard to fit 6 years all in one weekend. Overall, it was a good weekend. Hopefully it will happen again. I think we have a tentative plan to go again in the fall.
We all arrived in Branson way earlier than originally planned, which allowed us to have the afternoon and evening together.
The kids decided they wanted to have chicken from the giant chicken place. After dinner, we headed to the Landing to walk around. For the end of May, it was incredibly cool but the kids enjoyed some snow cones while we watched the fountain and fire show.
Our condo was a large two-bedroom that had all the amenities and gave us access to the resort pools and hot tubs. The kids were super excited to hit the pool after we returned to the condo. Point Royale resort in Branson is top notch if you ever get a chance to stay. The property manager we rent from is super reasonable on rates too.
Saturday we headed to Silver Dollar City. The kids spent the first half of the day riding one roller coaster after another. We met back up for a BBQ lunch, giant strawberry pie and followed it all with a train ride. The kids took off for more rides while we wondered through the shops.
On the way back, my brother stopped at a nearby dam area where men were fly fishing for trout. They ran into a nice older man who promised to help my nephew learn to fly fish the next morning and guaranteed him he would catch a trout. A big promise for a kid who easily gets disappointed.
That evening, we headed to Mel's Hard Luck Diner for dinner. The burgers are huge and the wait staff all take turns singing. We split up after dinner. My brother took the kids mini golfing while my husband took the ladies shopping.
We all met back up at Cakes N Cream for some giant sized funnel cakes covered in ice cream and strawberries.
By the time we got back to the condo, everyone was exhausted. No swimming, we all went straight to bed. What a long day.
Sunday morning, my nephew and brother headed to the fishing hole. We checked on them several hours later and found them disappointed. The man hadn't shown up and they had not caught anything. Shortly after we left, the man showed up and my nephew started catching trout. He was a happy boy.
Meanwhile, we hit the landing one more time and Fuddruckers for lunch.
Later that afternoon, they all left and we took a nap. Whew! What a whirlwind weekend.
There's certainly more I could share. There was so much talking. It's hard to fit 6 years all in one weekend. Overall, it was a good weekend. Hopefully it will happen again. I think we have a tentative plan to go again in the fall.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Count Down to Breakdown
Today is the first of 11 days that are going be very different for me and unlike any span of time I have had in the past 3+ years.
My primary support (aside from my husband) is leaving town on vacation. I do not begrudge her the time away at all, she deserves it. We often coordinate vacation times so that I don't have to go days and days without counseling or the support she gives.
I can't tell you what will happen this time, but I can tell you what has happened every time she's left town for the past 5 years. I absolutely breakdown. I absolutely revert back to total self dependence. By the time she gets back, I've convinced myself that I don't need any help from anybody and we usually spend weeks trying to develop a routine again.
This time is a little different than times past. There are usually times when she will call or email to check in on me. Even with that I fall apart. This time, those things won't happen.
I suppose a couple weeks or months from now, I will be able to look back at my posts and think wow that sucked but at least it's over...till next time.
Unfortunately, this really stirs up the internal need I have to push everyone away and be dependent on nobody. It makes me want to take care of myself completely and not need anyone.
Ugh...how many more days?
My primary support (aside from my husband) is leaving town on vacation. I do not begrudge her the time away at all, she deserves it. We often coordinate vacation times so that I don't have to go days and days without counseling or the support she gives.
I can't tell you what will happen this time, but I can tell you what has happened every time she's left town for the past 5 years. I absolutely breakdown. I absolutely revert back to total self dependence. By the time she gets back, I've convinced myself that I don't need any help from anybody and we usually spend weeks trying to develop a routine again.
This time is a little different than times past. There are usually times when she will call or email to check in on me. Even with that I fall apart. This time, those things won't happen.
I suppose a couple weeks or months from now, I will be able to look back at my posts and think wow that sucked but at least it's over...till next time.
Unfortunately, this really stirs up the internal need I have to push everyone away and be dependent on nobody. It makes me want to take care of myself completely and not need anyone.
Ugh...how many more days?
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
She's TOO Young
So unlike the last post, I am going to start off by saying this one is going to be judgemental. It maybe filled with disgust and a full blown eyes blazing red rant.
I had a very uncomfortable and unsolicited conversation with my brother's wife this weekend. I can't even tell you how it started because where it ended had me completely focused on what was said.
She told me it was probably about time for her to take my niece to get on birth control. My niece is 12. She is 12 years-old. TWELVE! She is a very immature 12 year-old.
When I asked if it was for health reasons, I was told NO. This is the explanation I got. "My mom never talked to me about that stuff. Your brother was having sex at her age and I don't want her to get stuck like I did. I didn't have any choices. I don't want her to have sex but I don't want her to end up like me."
WTF!!!!!!!!
So, teach your daughter the value of abstinence. Don't put your 12 year-old daughter in situations where she is faced with the decision to have sex.
Just because she had two kids by the time she was 17 doesn't mean her daughter has to follow in her footsteps.
I am positive that there is still a hole in my tongue and I still have steam seeping from my head. I was frankly pissed off that she would consider this as an option.
My brother started having sex at a young age because that's what he was taught. He was taught it was ok and normal. Both my brothers learned this.
I cannot claim to have held onto my virginity since it was stolen from me long before I knew what it was. However, as far as it had to do with me, I waited until I was 19 to have sex willingly for the first time. I was able separate what was forced on me and what I willingly did. There is no way I could have chosen to do that any sooner than I did.
I still cannot wrap my head around 12, 14, 16 or even 18 year-olds choosing to have sex. In fact, I didn't even get on birth control until I was 20.
If not for health reasons, why would you want to put a 12 year-old on birth control? If you want your child to not make the same mistakes you did, why wouldn't you try to teach them better? Teach them to not do what you did.
My niece and nephew are just entering puberty. They have so much growing up to do. They are still kids. I know they are going to grow up and there will be little anyone can say or do about it. This isn't about not wanting them to grow up. But it is about wanting them to have a fighting chance at holding onto their innocent minds and bodies for as long as possible.
The only thing I could say to this was...I think if my parents had put me on birth control at 12 I would have taken that as permission to be sexually active.
What else do you say when all you can do is restrain the physical anger that wants to jump out of you and take on the form of the Incredible Hulk?
I had a very uncomfortable and unsolicited conversation with my brother's wife this weekend. I can't even tell you how it started because where it ended had me completely focused on what was said.
She told me it was probably about time for her to take my niece to get on birth control. My niece is 12. She is 12 years-old. TWELVE! She is a very immature 12 year-old.
When I asked if it was for health reasons, I was told NO. This is the explanation I got. "My mom never talked to me about that stuff. Your brother was having sex at her age and I don't want her to get stuck like I did. I didn't have any choices. I don't want her to have sex but I don't want her to end up like me."
WTF!!!!!!!!
So, teach your daughter the value of abstinence. Don't put your 12 year-old daughter in situations where she is faced with the decision to have sex.
Just because she had two kids by the time she was 17 doesn't mean her daughter has to follow in her footsteps.
I am positive that there is still a hole in my tongue and I still have steam seeping from my head. I was frankly pissed off that she would consider this as an option.
My brother started having sex at a young age because that's what he was taught. He was taught it was ok and normal. Both my brothers learned this.
I cannot claim to have held onto my virginity since it was stolen from me long before I knew what it was. However, as far as it had to do with me, I waited until I was 19 to have sex willingly for the first time. I was able separate what was forced on me and what I willingly did. There is no way I could have chosen to do that any sooner than I did.
I still cannot wrap my head around 12, 14, 16 or even 18 year-olds choosing to have sex. In fact, I didn't even get on birth control until I was 20.
If not for health reasons, why would you want to put a 12 year-old on birth control? If you want your child to not make the same mistakes you did, why wouldn't you try to teach them better? Teach them to not do what you did.
My niece and nephew are just entering puberty. They have so much growing up to do. They are still kids. I know they are going to grow up and there will be little anyone can say or do about it. This isn't about not wanting them to grow up. But it is about wanting them to have a fighting chance at holding onto their innocent minds and bodies for as long as possible.
The only thing I could say to this was...I think if my parents had put me on birth control at 12 I would have taken that as permission to be sexually active.
What else do you say when all you can do is restrain the physical anger that wants to jump out of you and take on the form of the Incredible Hulk?
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
My Great Escape
This post will come across very judgemental, but truly is meant to be one about being thankful.
The weekend with some of my family made me realize how I take for granted my escape from my hometown.
My hometown is known for some of their more pure, Christian traits. They boast about it. Hold onto it as if they have it right and everyone else has it wrong. Each year they hold a biblical parade, which is unique and the oldest in the US. They have dozens of churches for the 2500 citizens with over 95% having church membership. Their town slogan is "Little town, bit heart." They have a progressive school district with much success in sports and academics.
It sounds like a great place to live, right?
You might even be thinking....Wow, this place has really evolved from the dysfunctional mess of the 70s, 80s, and 90s.
It probably started with a conversation about my cousin. Keep in mind, my brothers, cousins and many others did not come out unscathed. The deep depravity of my family was certainly not contained within the four walls of any of our homes.
The oldest of my female cousins has always been a bit difficult. She, like me, struggled with relationships and fertility and understanding how life worked. She has always been competitive and jealous of what others have (a trait that permeates my family). Prior to my husband, she destroyed nearly every relationship I began with a guy by sleeping with them. As soon as we set a date for our wedding, she got engaged and scheduled hers for a month earlier.
She may have been the first one of our generation to get married, but she was also the first to cheat on her spouse. A passed out drunken newlywed husband left her a hot mess and in bed with a relative of his. Evidently that behavior by both of them has tainted their entire marriage and has finally taken them to divorce court. Her husband takes care of their adopted child while she spends her nights at the local watering hole.
A couple of my other cousins and their wives are caught up in drugs and swinging. They have multiple children who they truly do not know which person is the father. Weekends are filled with parties where they drink themselves into oblivion and then swap partners with other town folk for a night of sex and immorality.
Like I said, it isn't contained just in my family. These also aren't the people from the less than 5% of unchurched people. The people involved in the sex swap are pastors, deacons, elders, teachers, officers, school administrators, business owners and so many more.
The immorality is not just found in weekend sex parties. It is found in the government and schools.
Last year, a business owner escaped charges for taking pictures of young boys in the pool changing room. I am not sure why, but it could have something to do with the amount of money he donates to the town.
More than one teacher has been arrested over the past couple years for having sex with or being indecent with students. One of them divorced his wife, married a former student and is now in jail for having sex with a different student.
A woman I know often posts on facebook about the wonderful kids she teaches in Sunday School. Days other than Sunday are usually full of posts about getting drunk and one-night stands.
There are so many more stories.
I am sure there are good people who have a strong moral compass in this town. I'm just not sure where they are.
It breaks my heart to know so many of these people are following in the footsteps of their parents. In school, they were filled with potential. Great athletes. Incredible talents. Amazing intelligence. They could have done many things. Instead, they stayed and fell into this trap of dysfunction.
But I, like a few others, got out. It took me 32 years, but I got out. Moving away wasn't enough. I had to completely divorce myself from it to break the bonds. It was so painful and hard. Despite how badly it needed to happen, it hurt me more than anyone else.
The first five years I could not see through the pain. I could not see what a good thing it was. I could not believe I had done the right thing. Sure, I accepted that breaking ties with my parents was right but I couldn't get there with everything else. But it was. It was the right thing. I could not see that I had escaped a long life of constantly being bound to these people and this place and the immorality and the dysfunction I was sure to perpetuate within my life. I could not see that the amount of pain in broken ties was minimal compared to the pain which would surely come if I never escaped the web.
It has taken me this long to accept that it took a lot of strength and power that was not of my own to escape the old life. It has never been easy and will continue to be painful. But, I have to embrace that it was the right thing for me. Even when it hurts the most, I have to remember that I am still much better off.
Any of those stories could have been me. I am by no means saying I am better than them, but I am saying I am thankful to have escaped. I am saying I am sad the others haven't found that strength. I am saying I have never been more mindful that I need to pray my nieces and nephews escape it too.
The weekend with some of my family made me realize how I take for granted my escape from my hometown.
My hometown is known for some of their more pure, Christian traits. They boast about it. Hold onto it as if they have it right and everyone else has it wrong. Each year they hold a biblical parade, which is unique and the oldest in the US. They have dozens of churches for the 2500 citizens with over 95% having church membership. Their town slogan is "Little town, bit heart." They have a progressive school district with much success in sports and academics.
It sounds like a great place to live, right?
You might even be thinking....Wow, this place has really evolved from the dysfunctional mess of the 70s, 80s, and 90s.
It probably started with a conversation about my cousin. Keep in mind, my brothers, cousins and many others did not come out unscathed. The deep depravity of my family was certainly not contained within the four walls of any of our homes.
The oldest of my female cousins has always been a bit difficult. She, like me, struggled with relationships and fertility and understanding how life worked. She has always been competitive and jealous of what others have (a trait that permeates my family). Prior to my husband, she destroyed nearly every relationship I began with a guy by sleeping with them. As soon as we set a date for our wedding, she got engaged and scheduled hers for a month earlier.
She may have been the first one of our generation to get married, but she was also the first to cheat on her spouse. A passed out drunken newlywed husband left her a hot mess and in bed with a relative of his. Evidently that behavior by both of them has tainted their entire marriage and has finally taken them to divorce court. Her husband takes care of their adopted child while she spends her nights at the local watering hole.
A couple of my other cousins and their wives are caught up in drugs and swinging. They have multiple children who they truly do not know which person is the father. Weekends are filled with parties where they drink themselves into oblivion and then swap partners with other town folk for a night of sex and immorality.
Like I said, it isn't contained just in my family. These also aren't the people from the less than 5% of unchurched people. The people involved in the sex swap are pastors, deacons, elders, teachers, officers, school administrators, business owners and so many more.
The immorality is not just found in weekend sex parties. It is found in the government and schools.
Last year, a business owner escaped charges for taking pictures of young boys in the pool changing room. I am not sure why, but it could have something to do with the amount of money he donates to the town.
More than one teacher has been arrested over the past couple years for having sex with or being indecent with students. One of them divorced his wife, married a former student and is now in jail for having sex with a different student.
A woman I know often posts on facebook about the wonderful kids she teaches in Sunday School. Days other than Sunday are usually full of posts about getting drunk and one-night stands.
There are so many more stories.
I am sure there are good people who have a strong moral compass in this town. I'm just not sure where they are.
It breaks my heart to know so many of these people are following in the footsteps of their parents. In school, they were filled with potential. Great athletes. Incredible talents. Amazing intelligence. They could have done many things. Instead, they stayed and fell into this trap of dysfunction.
But I, like a few others, got out. It took me 32 years, but I got out. Moving away wasn't enough. I had to completely divorce myself from it to break the bonds. It was so painful and hard. Despite how badly it needed to happen, it hurt me more than anyone else.
The first five years I could not see through the pain. I could not see what a good thing it was. I could not believe I had done the right thing. Sure, I accepted that breaking ties with my parents was right but I couldn't get there with everything else. But it was. It was the right thing. I could not see that I had escaped a long life of constantly being bound to these people and this place and the immorality and the dysfunction I was sure to perpetuate within my life. I could not see that the amount of pain in broken ties was minimal compared to the pain which would surely come if I never escaped the web.
It has taken me this long to accept that it took a lot of strength and power that was not of my own to escape the old life. It has never been easy and will continue to be painful. But, I have to embrace that it was the right thing for me. Even when it hurts the most, I have to remember that I am still much better off.
Any of those stories could have been me. I am by no means saying I am better than them, but I am saying I am thankful to have escaped. I am saying I am sad the others haven't found that strength. I am saying I have never been more mindful that I need to pray my nieces and nephews escape it too.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Happy Holiday
I am sitting here in a beautiful Branson condo with little more than family on my mind. Earlier I smashed my finger in a car door. My ankle is throbbing tonight. I have really not been getting along with my husband. Nothing physical nor emotional can tear my thoughts away from family, my family.
For once, I am not dwelling on or thinking of the past or the bad things, but I am fully living in the present. Really, that would be present as in gift.
My youngest brother and his family met us in Branson for the holiday weekend. Not just a once a year shuffling of children, but an actual vacation style trip. We are staying in a two bedroom condo. I feel a bit like a hen with her chicks all back in the nest. It is overwhelming to consider how big this is for me.
We have spent the evening having dinner, window shopping and enjoying one another. It has been far from perfect and yet it has been perfect for me. It's the first holiday I will be spending with family in 7 years.
So many nights I cried myself to sleep with the grief of knowing I had lost all connection to my family. Tonight, I could probably fall asleep with tearful joy.
This is the safest and healthiest contact I have with any family and it has taken 6 years to establish that. I will take it. I will hold onto it tightly and cherish every moment.
Now off to bed I must go. I have a full day ahead of amusement park and BBQ and ice cream and mini golf and swimming and whatever other activity we can possibly do.
For once, I am not dwelling on or thinking of the past or the bad things, but I am fully living in the present. Really, that would be present as in gift.
My youngest brother and his family met us in Branson for the holiday weekend. Not just a once a year shuffling of children, but an actual vacation style trip. We are staying in a two bedroom condo. I feel a bit like a hen with her chicks all back in the nest. It is overwhelming to consider how big this is for me.
We have spent the evening having dinner, window shopping and enjoying one another. It has been far from perfect and yet it has been perfect for me. It's the first holiday I will be spending with family in 7 years.
So many nights I cried myself to sleep with the grief of knowing I had lost all connection to my family. Tonight, I could probably fall asleep with tearful joy.
This is the safest and healthiest contact I have with any family and it has taken 6 years to establish that. I will take it. I will hold onto it tightly and cherish every moment.
Now off to bed I must go. I have a full day ahead of amusement park and BBQ and ice cream and mini golf and swimming and whatever other activity we can possibly do.
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