So that last post it was cathartic and all, but boy what a bummer to read! I couldn't stand it being the first post I see here anymore! So here's a lighter note for today.
First of all, right now in the state where I was born it is bitterly, horrendously cold! Some of my relatives haven't even seen 0 degrees in a few days--as in it hasn't been warm enough to reach 0!!! Brrrrrr!! I remember that awful, freeze your throat and your snot the minute you breathe outside cold and I do NOT miss it. And yes, if you must know, it is part of why Bob and I don't ever really consider moving back. I hate plugging in my car, or worse yet waking up in the middle of the night to start it and let it run so the battery doesn't freeze. I hate wearing 3 or 4 layers of clothes plus coats, hats, mittens, boots and a scarf and STILL BEING COLD. I hate when even opening your door to get the mail will make your furnace go on from the cold. I just don't enjoy it. So I am incredibly thankful today to live somewhere more temperate. Today the kids & I will be meeting some friends at a park for a play date and it will be lovely and sunny and they will run and play and get tired and dirty outside like kids should do. Hurray for the ability to be outside without getting frostbite!
Second, lately Bob and I have both been working hard on ourselves. By which I mean we have been putting in a lot of effort at changing some things that have needed changing for awhile. Miraculously, it has actually been working--a little at least--and we're seeing some improvements in our ability to handle things that would previously have really messed us up. This is wonderful news and a bit exhilarating; it is also so tiring I think I could sleep for a month. Not the normal daily tired of life as we know it, but a different, more sleep inducing tired. We fall in bed at night and are just done. We both know it is because we are doing hard, important, necessary work. We are glad we are finally able to address some things we've each needed to deal with and have put off until now. We are also sleepy. And a little frustrated we don't make faster progress (Well, I know I am. I probably should speak for Bob. Can you tell impatience is 1 of our shortcomings?). I always thought breaking free of my unhealthy behaviors would be exciting and freeing--and I can see that it will be eventually. Right now though, it is just plum exhausting. Who knew becoming a new Me would wear me out so much? Whew. Must nap. (Not really, but I do have to go.)
So that is what we're doing around here lately. You?
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Friday, January 18, 2013
A Formative Part of My Journey
****Warning, this will not be a particularly cheery post. It's about death mostly. You've been warned.
My life has been shaped by death from the beginning. The week before I was born my aunt Bobbie--my mother's oldest sister--died after a long battle with breast cancer. She left behind 6 children. My family travelled a long distance to the town she lived in for the wake and funeral, and then when they came home Mom went into labor. I know my birth, though it brought her great and true joy, is also mixed up with her grief over losing her sister. I'm not sure it can be categorized as an auspicious start.
During a conversation with some friends yesterday I started thinking. I'm not sure why, but it seems I have been exposed to more death and loss than many people my age in this country and I wanted to write about it. I'm going to start with a depressing list, and see where it leads me. It is by no means exhaustive, as I am going to try to stick with events about which I have strong memories and emotions.
I'm not sure what the purpose of this post was, or is, even should be; but I do know these people and the loss of each of them has shaped my life and how I see the world. And after reading this post about one of the Connecticut shooting victims and his mother, I wanted to be sure I made a point to stop and remember. I've never lost a full term, outside my womb child and I hope I won't. But as a mother, I stand with Noah's mother and promise to remember that everyone was once someone's little boy or girl. And to hide from the pain and awful-ness may do them and me a disservice.
And I will offer this list, as complete as I can make it, of those I've lost and won't forget.
Chaz, Eve, Grandma Hadley, Virg, Marie, Cousin John, Cousin Dennis, Jim L, Jim M, Anne, Mary Catherine, Leona, Stephen, Margaret, Brenda, Tom, John, Heather, Tony, Kevin, Tammy, Elna, Carl, Craig, Hans, Marv, Wyburn, Robbie, Rich, Dale, Kenneth, Mary, Rachel, Maurice, Margaret H, Mira, Declan, & Paul.
I will remember you. Always.
My life has been shaped by death from the beginning. The week before I was born my aunt Bobbie--my mother's oldest sister--died after a long battle with breast cancer. She left behind 6 children. My family travelled a long distance to the town she lived in for the wake and funeral, and then when they came home Mom went into labor. I know my birth, though it brought her great and true joy, is also mixed up with her grief over losing her sister. I'm not sure it can be categorized as an auspicious start.
During a conversation with some friends yesterday I started thinking. I'm not sure why, but it seems I have been exposed to more death and loss than many people my age in this country and I wanted to write about it. I'm going to start with a depressing list, and see where it leads me. It is by no means exhaustive, as I am going to try to stick with events about which I have strong memories and emotions.
- When I was 8 there was a boy in my class named Chaz. He was incredibly tall--5'2" and very kind. I didn't know him well but a close family friend was very close friends with him so we played together occasionally. That summer he was hit by a car and killed in a family member's yard (his family member, not mine). It was a pretty big deal in our little town and my friend J--his close friend--was deeply grieved. This is my first clear memory of loss, though I know I lost several extended family members prior to this time.
- When I was 12 my friend J(the same J as above) lost his mother, Eve, to a rare blood disorder. I don't really know what to say about it all, except that I can remember J didn't cry, and verbally expressed his refusal to do so. My mother and brother K were both very distraught on his behalf and the extremity of their grief frightened me. I specifically chose not to attend the funeral because my Dad couldn't come and I was afraid I wouldn't know what to do to comfort them.
- When I was about 13, Brenda, the girl who lived at the end of our road was killed in a horrific car crash right in front of her house. Her car was struck by an oncoming semi and caught fire. Our house was more than a mile away over hilly, wooded land. Despite the distance and terrain we could see the flames from our yard. Her father and several neighbors saw it happen, but were powerless to reach her because of the fire. I remember it was so crowded that 2 of my brothers and I had to sit in the basement of the church for the funeral while our parents were upstairs with my youngest brother K because he was a pall bearer. He was 16. I remember sitting in a room full of my future high school teachers, again unsure of the proper response to so many authority figures in my life all weeping together. The spanish teacher told me I was very strong because I ended up sitting at a separate table from my brothers by myself and didn't fall apart. Brenda was about 17. I don't think I have ever seen her mother ever since without seeing her cry.
- 2 years later 2 boys from my high school died in a car wreck caused by their own drunk driving. Tom & John were popular, kind, funny, and talented. The week of their funerals my brother K also refused to cry. I remember seeing probably half our school sobbing into his shoulders for days. One night he couldn't bear it any more and wept almost hysterically for what seemed like hours. My Dad sat with him the whole time holding him and speaking calmly in a low voice, like he'd done when K was small and had nightmares or fever-induced hallucinations. At that point in time K and Dad could barely stand to spend 5 minutes in the same room without having a shouting match. But not that night.
- At least 4 other kids died in our small town during my middle and high school years. 2 of cancer, 1 of a heart defect, 1 in another car accident. I think I'm forgetting someone, but none of them were people I was particularly close to; I list them because I've been told this is a high number of child deaths for 1 community. I also know numerous other family members passed on during this time, most notably my maternal grandmother and 2 of my great aunts who I dearly loved. But I remember their wakes and funerals being very different than those of my friends and classmates. Grandma and Aunt Virgie and Aunt Marie were old, and had been sick for extended periods of time. Their deaths seemed more "natural" to me, and less scary.
- In college a friend committed suicide. He was a beautiful young man. H was strong, funny, compelling in a strange way I cannot describe but everyone who met him understood. He was also secretly struggling with depression of some kind. What I remember most about losing H is that there were times I'd noticed he seemed "off" or lonely and I never said anything. H claimed he didn't believe in God and hated church, and he was really really "cool". He was also my boyfriend's best friend. I didn't want to embarass myself reaching out to him. Even when I was sure God wanted me to do it. I was too scared of what he might think of me. He died shortly after the boyfriend and I broke up and it was all just really painful and tragic. I've tried to never forget my horror at never knowing if my obedience to God's prompting might have helped him. It keeps me honest.
- When I was 24 my husband showed up at my job unexpectedly one Friday morning. He told me my oldest brother B had just called to tell him my Dad died. I've written about that other places, and I don't think I can do so again just now. But it shaped me.
I'm not sure what the purpose of this post was, or is, even should be; but I do know these people and the loss of each of them has shaped my life and how I see the world. And after reading this post about one of the Connecticut shooting victims and his mother, I wanted to be sure I made a point to stop and remember. I've never lost a full term, outside my womb child and I hope I won't. But as a mother, I stand with Noah's mother and promise to remember that everyone was once someone's little boy or girl. And to hide from the pain and awful-ness may do them and me a disservice.
And I will offer this list, as complete as I can make it, of those I've lost and won't forget.
Chaz, Eve, Grandma Hadley, Virg, Marie, Cousin John, Cousin Dennis, Jim L, Jim M, Anne, Mary Catherine, Leona, Stephen, Margaret, Brenda, Tom, John, Heather, Tony, Kevin, Tammy, Elna, Carl, Craig, Hans, Marv, Wyburn, Robbie, Rich, Dale, Kenneth, Mary, Rachel, Maurice, Margaret H, Mira, Declan, & Paul.
I will remember you. Always.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Not much to say
I honestly don't have much to write today, but I just feel compelled to post something. I am trying this year to pay more attention to the little internal nudges and pokes I feel sometimes, and doing something about them instead of brushing them off. I feel as though it helps me stay more centered, more in touch with what my heart actually wants rather than what I feel pressured to accomplish. So I am writing on my blog, even though there are floors to sweep and laundry to fold and some projects I should finish soon.
And yes, I realize I have posted in the past about my tendency toward laziness and this may seem like an excuse to cultivate a poor habit. Maybe it is, but I don't think so this time. The last several months I have been weaning myself off a fairly serious tv addiction, and off aimless web surfing just to kill time. I've actually done quite well at it and I'm proud of myself. :) At first it just seemed like I was bored more often or did a better job of engaging with my kids. And those are ok--I'm a firm believer that a little boredom helps kickstart the creative parts of our brains and thus serves a purpose--but lately I've just noticed that my mind feels less crowded. Less hectic and over-full of pointless noise. I'm an introvert with a predisposition to introspection, so the inside of my head often feels noisy and chaotic to me. Which I suppose may sound weird, but whatever I'm weird. Get used to it.
Anyway, all this selective deprivation has left me much more room to breathe emotionally and mentally and I LOVE it! I feel so much less like my brain will explode, so much less like hiding from my life on the days things are crazy(which is pretty often with 4 kids). It just feels nice to not be in a constant state of frenzied anxiety over my inability to process all the input i was receiving each day. A lot of evenings, Bob and I just sit in our living room and chat while I fold laundry, or even just sit. Or he reads on his ipad while I read a book. It's quiet and relaxing and I savor the feeling of cozy, contented evenings with no useless noise.
And less useless noise means I more often have time and space to hear the still, small voice inside me that prompts me to reach out to others, or to pray or serve or just care for those I love better. I notice more when my kids behaviors may need deeper examination than it seems at first glance; I can keep my cool when they test me and give them a firm, loving, gentle response instead of shouting; I remember to hug them often and compliment them on their positive qualities, not just correct the negatives; I think I love my husband better too and see him more clearly for who God made him. Overall I like it and I plan to keep it up.
So in summary, our parents were right and tv does rot my brain. Who knew? :)
And yes, I realize I have posted in the past about my tendency toward laziness and this may seem like an excuse to cultivate a poor habit. Maybe it is, but I don't think so this time. The last several months I have been weaning myself off a fairly serious tv addiction, and off aimless web surfing just to kill time. I've actually done quite well at it and I'm proud of myself. :) At first it just seemed like I was bored more often or did a better job of engaging with my kids. And those are ok--I'm a firm believer that a little boredom helps kickstart the creative parts of our brains and thus serves a purpose--but lately I've just noticed that my mind feels less crowded. Less hectic and over-full of pointless noise. I'm an introvert with a predisposition to introspection, so the inside of my head often feels noisy and chaotic to me. Which I suppose may sound weird, but whatever I'm weird. Get used to it.
Anyway, all this selective deprivation has left me much more room to breathe emotionally and mentally and I LOVE it! I feel so much less like my brain will explode, so much less like hiding from my life on the days things are crazy(which is pretty often with 4 kids). It just feels nice to not be in a constant state of frenzied anxiety over my inability to process all the input i was receiving each day. A lot of evenings, Bob and I just sit in our living room and chat while I fold laundry, or even just sit. Or he reads on his ipad while I read a book. It's quiet and relaxing and I savor the feeling of cozy, contented evenings with no useless noise.
And less useless noise means I more often have time and space to hear the still, small voice inside me that prompts me to reach out to others, or to pray or serve or just care for those I love better. I notice more when my kids behaviors may need deeper examination than it seems at first glance; I can keep my cool when they test me and give them a firm, loving, gentle response instead of shouting; I remember to hug them often and compliment them on their positive qualities, not just correct the negatives; I think I love my husband better too and see him more clearly for who God made him. Overall I like it and I plan to keep it up.
So in summary, our parents were right and tv does rot my brain. Who knew? :)
Thursday, January 3, 2013
A New Year
It is 2013. I am still surprised how quickly time flies amidst the goings and doings and daily tasks that are life with 4 kids. Yet this year and I am glad to start anew. 2012 was a long year. Very long. Not always in a bad way either; many of the struggles which hung on my soul like a weight last January are only a distant memory and I am very thankful for it. Bob, the kids and I just spent nearly 14 days all together as a family and we had a wonderful time. We saw some relatives I never see enough, and enjoyed every minute. He went back to work today and even though it is sad, a return to our more normal schedule is due and will benefit us all.
However, so much of 2012 was spent processing heartbreak and change and conquering the fears that overwhelm when tragedy and evil attack. I live in Colorado and I love it here; but it was a tough year for our state and nothing can change that. There were terrible fires all summer. The Aurora shooting. More fires. The election cycle--which seemed unending. Jessica Ridgeway. Several other horrendously violent crimes in our neighborhood and city during the fall. And then Sandy Hook. It didn't happen here but it hit me hard and made year end celebrating bittersweet to say the least. So I am not sad the year is over and we can begin again. I know how badly we all need it.
Last year I chose a word for my year. A word to encourage and challenge me and help me focus on moving forward rather than dwelling on struggles or sadness or the past. My word for 2012 was Healing and it was perfect. I needed to spend time allowing the Great Physician access to my deep wounds and let Him bring light and health to so many things. And He did, because He is good and loves me. I am grateful for a year to recuperate and grow new things in my life. To choose life and light and forgiveness and grace. To Heal. I needed it. And I truly feel different this year. Last January I could never have imagined looking forward with such hope and joy to what life may have in store for me. I just couldn't have envisioned a heart like this inside me. But now I have it and I need to put it to good use.
So this year I will choose a new word. Well a phrase really, because when I thought it over what kept coming up was how thankful I am for being awakened to the joy in my life. And my need for gratitude and joy in every single piece of my life. Even (especially?) the dark, difficult, painful pieces. My phrase for 2013 is GRATEFUL JOY. I hope to live in grateful joy each day regardless of circumstance, trial, or struggle. I will be thankful and seek joy. Always. And if I fail I will get up and choose it again the next minute and the next and the one after that until it is more of a habit and less of a choice. I am excited to see what this year may bring. What life, what light, what new adventures and experiences.
May your year begin with joy, love and hope.
However, so much of 2012 was spent processing heartbreak and change and conquering the fears that overwhelm when tragedy and evil attack. I live in Colorado and I love it here; but it was a tough year for our state and nothing can change that. There were terrible fires all summer. The Aurora shooting. More fires. The election cycle--which seemed unending. Jessica Ridgeway. Several other horrendously violent crimes in our neighborhood and city during the fall. And then Sandy Hook. It didn't happen here but it hit me hard and made year end celebrating bittersweet to say the least. So I am not sad the year is over and we can begin again. I know how badly we all need it.
Last year I chose a word for my year. A word to encourage and challenge me and help me focus on moving forward rather than dwelling on struggles or sadness or the past. My word for 2012 was Healing and it was perfect. I needed to spend time allowing the Great Physician access to my deep wounds and let Him bring light and health to so many things. And He did, because He is good and loves me. I am grateful for a year to recuperate and grow new things in my life. To choose life and light and forgiveness and grace. To Heal. I needed it. And I truly feel different this year. Last January I could never have imagined looking forward with such hope and joy to what life may have in store for me. I just couldn't have envisioned a heart like this inside me. But now I have it and I need to put it to good use.
So this year I will choose a new word. Well a phrase really, because when I thought it over what kept coming up was how thankful I am for being awakened to the joy in my life. And my need for gratitude and joy in every single piece of my life. Even (especially?) the dark, difficult, painful pieces. My phrase for 2013 is GRATEFUL JOY. I hope to live in grateful joy each day regardless of circumstance, trial, or struggle. I will be thankful and seek joy. Always. And if I fail I will get up and choose it again the next minute and the next and the one after that until it is more of a habit and less of a choice. I am excited to see what this year may bring. What life, what light, what new adventures and experiences.
May your year begin with joy, love and hope.
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