Saturday, October 25, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Jimmy
This is a story from my previous life in small town Appalachia:
We had many "characters" who lived in our town. They kept us "normal" folk annoyed and amused. Jimmy was one of them. Every day he walked around town, closely followed by his Radio Flyer, going from trash can to dumpster... collecting cans. Our town is small, only a handful of stores still open after the great industry pull out in the 70's. Most of the people who live here have chosen an isolated life, have left the city because their assistance check goes a lot further here than in a city, or they were born to families who settled here in 1890. Jimmy comes from one of those long term families, who also happen to have married too many cousins. The lack of intelligence in the Buckle family is notorious. In a town where everyone knows everyone's business, all you have to say is, "He's a Buckle," and eyes roll, indicating, "Oh yes, we know the whole clan isn't worth much."
Back to Jimmy. As Jimmy walked he visited every store, chatting with the unlucky clerks who weren't able to hide quickly enough. Jimmy could talk you to death about nothing in particular. Each stop brought a few more cans into Jimmy's wagon, and by late afternoon, he'd have a load. This happened every day of the week. Jimmy was part of the scenery, like the bank or the hardware store.
One day Jimmy became ill. He may have spent a few days in a hospital, but I can't remember. We all grieved in our own little way, over not seeing Jimmy wandering by. Of course the store clerks rejoiced for their respite, but the talk of the town was all about Jimmy and whether he would be able to come back. His illness evidently necessitated his getting a scooter. He was of course told that he could no longer make his trips into town. He had to stay in his home for his own good. And of course he didn't listen for long. Within a week, Jimmy was riding his scooter down the highway, into town. It was great to see Jimmy out and about again. The scooter changed the silhouette, but at least Jimmy was back. There was one problem. Jimmy sold those cans for extra income, and now he didn't have a way to haul them. A few days after his first scooter trip into town, a milk crate appeared on the back of the scooter, and he was back in business! The only problem was that the crate didn't hold enough cans. Hmmm. How to solve this dilemma?! You guessed it. Within another week, the Radio Flyer was secured to a tow rope behind the scooter, and Jimmy was really back in business. Down the highway, into town he rode, once again making his rounds. It was a day to celebrate! Jimmy was back! All was well in G-town!
We all rolled our eyes, and knew an accident was going to happen, but we knew that Jimmy was being Jimmy and there was no stopping him.
One day I was pulling out of the bank drive-thru and I looked across the street to see Jimmy, driving his scooter, dragging his wagon, pulling out of the furniture store parking lot. This time there was a major change in his load. Jimmy had decided he and his scooter were invincible! He was not loaded with cans (but then he may have been because I couldn't really see the wagon). All I could see was Jimmy, his scooter and a full size mattress and box spring about 2 ft from the ground, inching out the drive! It took about 10 feet for the whole thing to topple! He actually thought he could drive that scooter, toting a mattress and box spring on his wagon, through town, and out the highway to his house! Now that's possibility thinking! It wasn't logical or physically possible, but he was giving it his best! Just as I drove to rescue him, another driver stopped, loaded the dumpster find in her van, and set Jimmy safely on his way home driving his scooter, followed closely by his faithful Radio Flyer! This is life in G-town! Characters to annoy and amuse. People to love just the way they are!
We had many "characters" who lived in our town. They kept us "normal" folk annoyed and amused. Jimmy was one of them. Every day he walked around town, closely followed by his Radio Flyer, going from trash can to dumpster... collecting cans. Our town is small, only a handful of stores still open after the great industry pull out in the 70's. Most of the people who live here have chosen an isolated life, have left the city because their assistance check goes a lot further here than in a city, or they were born to families who settled here in 1890. Jimmy comes from one of those long term families, who also happen to have married too many cousins. The lack of intelligence in the Buckle family is notorious. In a town where everyone knows everyone's business, all you have to say is, "He's a Buckle," and eyes roll, indicating, "Oh yes, we know the whole clan isn't worth much."
Back to Jimmy. As Jimmy walked he visited every store, chatting with the unlucky clerks who weren't able to hide quickly enough. Jimmy could talk you to death about nothing in particular. Each stop brought a few more cans into Jimmy's wagon, and by late afternoon, he'd have a load. This happened every day of the week. Jimmy was part of the scenery, like the bank or the hardware store.
One day Jimmy became ill. He may have spent a few days in a hospital, but I can't remember. We all grieved in our own little way, over not seeing Jimmy wandering by. Of course the store clerks rejoiced for their respite, but the talk of the town was all about Jimmy and whether he would be able to come back. His illness evidently necessitated his getting a scooter. He was of course told that he could no longer make his trips into town. He had to stay in his home for his own good. And of course he didn't listen for long. Within a week, Jimmy was riding his scooter down the highway, into town. It was great to see Jimmy out and about again. The scooter changed the silhouette, but at least Jimmy was back. There was one problem. Jimmy sold those cans for extra income, and now he didn't have a way to haul them. A few days after his first scooter trip into town, a milk crate appeared on the back of the scooter, and he was back in business! The only problem was that the crate didn't hold enough cans. Hmmm. How to solve this dilemma?! You guessed it. Within another week, the Radio Flyer was secured to a tow rope behind the scooter, and Jimmy was really back in business. Down the highway, into town he rode, once again making his rounds. It was a day to celebrate! Jimmy was back! All was well in G-town!
We all rolled our eyes, and knew an accident was going to happen, but we knew that Jimmy was being Jimmy and there was no stopping him.
One day I was pulling out of the bank drive-thru and I looked across the street to see Jimmy, driving his scooter, dragging his wagon, pulling out of the furniture store parking lot. This time there was a major change in his load. Jimmy had decided he and his scooter were invincible! He was not loaded with cans (but then he may have been because I couldn't really see the wagon). All I could see was Jimmy, his scooter and a full size mattress and box spring about 2 ft from the ground, inching out the drive! It took about 10 feet for the whole thing to topple! He actually thought he could drive that scooter, toting a mattress and box spring on his wagon, through town, and out the highway to his house! Now that's possibility thinking! It wasn't logical or physically possible, but he was giving it his best! Just as I drove to rescue him, another driver stopped, loaded the dumpster find in her van, and set Jimmy safely on his way home driving his scooter, followed closely by his faithful Radio Flyer! This is life in G-town! Characters to annoy and amuse. People to love just the way they are!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Grief
It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. Like someone with new tennis shoes, whose whereabouts are never heard. When you're tired, it creeps up silently, with no warning, so that when you turn suddenly you run into it and the two of you become one. One minute you feel positive, brave, energetic. The next, you find yourself pulling your socks down to see out. Grief. It sucks your brain out and you forget all the good there is. One day it will go away and stay away until another loss. For now it camps on my doorstep, waiting for every opportunity.
life and death
The anniversary of my mother's death was 6 days ago. I've been thinking a lot about her this week and remembering her death. She had Alzheimer's disease for about 15 years, so she died an inch at a time, eventually unrecognizing and unrecognizable. My father used to say, "This disease is evil." And it was/is. Her greatest fear when she was younger, was losing her memory. And so her biggest fear came true and we know that she would have rather died than have Alzheimers. But Alzheimers is no respector of desires, dignity, or pride.
The last week of her life, my mother had a stroke. The daughters and granddaughters gathered to say, "Goodbye." Each day she seemed to age 10 years and her face distorted. All I could think was, "This is really ugly." I don't mean that on a shallow, "pretty people" level. Each day it seemed the disease took huge portions of her and left more of a stranger in the bed. Evil was stealing her/destroying her. I'd sit and think the evil was increasing and it was ugly. On her last morning as we sat by her side, I saw evil take total control. God's life in her vanished. She was gone. And it hit me that when the evil took over completely, it instantly lost it's power. She moved on to her new life, and it was beautiful. She was finally free. At the moment of my mother's death, I understood the need to die in order for new life to begin. I saw God use evil for God's purposes. She is free.
The funeral home staff tried to get us all to gather around her one last time to say our, "Goodbye." We were done. She was gone. Her broken body lay on the bed, but she was gone. She lost her life in order to gain a new one, and for that I am grateful.
As I think about this, I realize we can learn about living our own lives. We spend most of our lives clinging to the past, clinging to the known, clinging to our image of the future. Maybe if we'd give up all that clinging, we could move on to the new life that God keeps offering. Then again, God's not speaking to me right now, so I could be wrong.
The last week of her life, my mother had a stroke. The daughters and granddaughters gathered to say, "Goodbye." Each day she seemed to age 10 years and her face distorted. All I could think was, "This is really ugly." I don't mean that on a shallow, "pretty people" level. Each day it seemed the disease took huge portions of her and left more of a stranger in the bed. Evil was stealing her/destroying her. I'd sit and think the evil was increasing and it was ugly. On her last morning as we sat by her side, I saw evil take total control. God's life in her vanished. She was gone. And it hit me that when the evil took over completely, it instantly lost it's power. She moved on to her new life, and it was beautiful. She was finally free. At the moment of my mother's death, I understood the need to die in order for new life to begin. I saw God use evil for God's purposes. She is free.
The funeral home staff tried to get us all to gather around her one last time to say our, "Goodbye." We were done. She was gone. Her broken body lay on the bed, but she was gone. She lost her life in order to gain a new one, and for that I am grateful.
As I think about this, I realize we can learn about living our own lives. We spend most of our lives clinging to the past, clinging to the known, clinging to our image of the future. Maybe if we'd give up all that clinging, we could move on to the new life that God keeps offering. Then again, God's not speaking to me right now, so I could be wrong.
Friday, October 17, 2008
God and Me
Still struggling with my relationship with God. It just seems that when I am most in need of God's presence, love, wisdom, God is not there. God is silent. I hear nothing. Yesterday I hurt my leg. It has been a good week, and I was so full of energy, I had plans to do a fall house cleaning today. Now I can't walk. Needless to say, I'm a bit discouraged and angry. Finally went out to the creek to chat with God. I guess I ranted and raved at God for over an hour. It felt good that at last I am talking to God! Don't know when God's going to talk to me! Will have to work on that some more tomorrow. It seems to be tied to my own sense of self. I've realized that when I need to defend another person, I will. When I need to defend myself, I don't. When I need God's wisdom for another person, or a church dilemna, then I hear God guiding me. When I need God's wisdom for me, I hear nothing. Somehow there's a connection. Somehow I think it's that I don't love myself enough. I don't think that God cares enough for me. But how does that work? I sit for hours listening for God, and don't hear anything. It's not like I'm not listening! So frustrating! God, are you there? Where are you? Who are you?
The affects of violence
The soon to be ex has moved out. Been considering how stressed I was when my almost ex was in the house, compared to how I've felt this week. I was using all my energy just for self preservation. It is amazing to me that even though he was not physically abusive, all my energy was used to protect against the verbal blows. I was panicked every morning when I woke up. I was unable to do much more than survive.
This week has been amazing! I've felt full of energy, focused at work, and ready to put life in order! All because I wasn't under the stress of the verbal birage. The children's rhyme, "Sticks and stones, may break my bones, but names will never hurt me," is really not true. Words have hurt me more than I ever realized until now. What a subtle way to really tear a person down. No one should put up with it. I know that God doesn't want that for me or for anyone else.
So now I can celebrate the first week of a new life!
This week has been amazing! I've felt full of energy, focused at work, and ready to put life in order! All because I wasn't under the stress of the verbal birage. The children's rhyme, "Sticks and stones, may break my bones, but names will never hurt me," is really not true. Words have hurt me more than I ever realized until now. What a subtle way to really tear a person down. No one should put up with it. I know that God doesn't want that for me or for anyone else.
So now I can celebrate the first week of a new life!
Monday, October 13, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Slice of heaven 4
Putting the broom away and knowing it will be in the same spot when I use it again. Not having the vacuum cleaner as a centerpiece in the living room. Having all the cleaning supplies put away when the job is done. Knowing where to find things. Parenting only children. Not sharing a bathroom with another adult.
A quiet home
Home alone! What an odd development. This never happens. The man is gone, the kids are gone. It's so quiet! The energyrushed out the door with them. Is that a "good thing?" or a "bad thing?" Can't decide. When life is hectic, full of noise and people, the sudden quiet shouts louder than the noise. I think I'm liking this! Can't decide if I want to do something domestic (the place really needs it!), take a nap, lie in the hammock, or read a book. Maybe all of the above. I have all evening! Wow! A whole evening! So I sit and drink iced tea, blog, and eat chocolate. No wonder I'm too skinny. This is not a balanced meal.
Who thinks of the sayings inside the Dove chocolates? Obviously some 13 year old who's enamored with being "in love." Obviously not a woman going through a divorce! It's a bit unnerving to read: "Send a love letter this week." and "Dare to love completely!"
"Temptation is fun... giving in is even better!" when you're having your first evening at home without a spouse. I am eating the chocolate to help me feel better, not suicidal! They should make a divorce recovery set that says things like, "Never marry again." "He's a jerk and you're better off without him." "You will not feel depressed forever." "You're strong. You can do this!" and the old feminist standby: "A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle." Can't remember which feminist said that. It's still a great line. In my heart, I can't really agree yet. Wish I could. I'd feel better right now.
Home alone... feels so odd. I'm so glad to be safe and in my own home. No one to yell at me tonight. No one to rage and send me driving off to another refuge! For this I am grateful. I'm also sad. It's another step toward ending 20 years. Another positive step with painful grief. It's definitely an evening for reflection. I'm going to have to learn to do this "alone" thing. I'm going to have to learn to reflect without talking. That's a totally foreign concept! How do people do that? And how do you be alone when you've not been alone for 99.9% of your life? Another day, a different challenge. There have been too many challenges these months. I'm tired of learning to do new things! I just get over one hurdle, and there's another one immediately. When is the rest? When is there a routine? When do you get to relax? When do you sleep through the night again? Does it ever feel right to not have a spouse? or someone you love and who loves you back? I think I'll eat some more chocolate. Next time I'm getting a different brand. No more depressing love notes on my chocolates! If I were in a 12 step program, it'd be time to call my sponsor. Maybe it's time to call a friend. Damn! Wish something were easy and I weren't so damn depressed!
Who thinks of the sayings inside the Dove chocolates? Obviously some 13 year old who's enamored with being "in love." Obviously not a woman going through a divorce! It's a bit unnerving to read: "Send a love letter this week." and "Dare to love completely!"
"Temptation is fun... giving in is even better!" when you're having your first evening at home without a spouse. I am eating the chocolate to help me feel better, not suicidal! They should make a divorce recovery set that says things like, "Never marry again." "He's a jerk and you're better off without him." "You will not feel depressed forever." "You're strong. You can do this!" and the old feminist standby: "A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle." Can't remember which feminist said that. It's still a great line. In my heart, I can't really agree yet. Wish I could. I'd feel better right now.
Home alone... feels so odd. I'm so glad to be safe and in my own home. No one to yell at me tonight. No one to rage and send me driving off to another refuge! For this I am grateful. I'm also sad. It's another step toward ending 20 years. Another positive step with painful grief. It's definitely an evening for reflection. I'm going to have to learn to do this "alone" thing. I'm going to have to learn to reflect without talking. That's a totally foreign concept! How do people do that? And how do you be alone when you've not been alone for 99.9% of your life? Another day, a different challenge. There have been too many challenges these months. I'm tired of learning to do new things! I just get over one hurdle, and there's another one immediately. When is the rest? When is there a routine? When do you get to relax? When do you sleep through the night again? Does it ever feel right to not have a spouse? or someone you love and who loves you back? I think I'll eat some more chocolate. Next time I'm getting a different brand. No more depressing love notes on my chocolates! If I were in a 12 step program, it'd be time to call my sponsor. Maybe it's time to call a friend. Damn! Wish something were easy and I weren't so damn depressed!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
slice of heaven 3
A porch swing on a veranda, overlooking a farm pond and acres of ranch fields. A camp fire with banana boats. Memories of my mother leading us in singing around the campfire.
living in hell with good friends
Keep trying to practice meditational prayer... and keep falling asleep. I keep communicating with friends. I keep trying to have a routine day. I keep trying to find God. I keep trying to have a normal conversation with my soon to be ex. The only thing that's working for me is communicating with friends. I thank God for my good friends with whom I can be honest and off-kilter. I thank God that they can put up with me when I don't even like being with me. I thank God that they're so generous and literally carrying me through this rough time. I can't remember who this happened to. I read it in a book years ago and have done this for people from time to time. The man's, (CS Lewis?) wife died. He lost his faith. He couldn't pray. Two friends came and told him that they would pray for him. Not meaning that they would pray for God to help him, but that they would pray in his stead. They would confess his sins, give his praises, talk with God for him until he felt like he could have a relationship with God again. And they did pray in his stead until his faith returned. I feel like my friends are carrying me in faith until mine returns. Thank God for friends.
slice of heaven 2
Cabernet and chocolate. Waking up to a safe home. Good friends who know you're not normally so crazy/moody/fragile/ desparate, and still care. OU football. Sleeping in.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Gossip
"Who is the father of her children?" I hate church people. They're the most judgemental. No wonder most people don't want to hang out with them.
A Slice of Heaven
A cup of tea with a splash of Woodford Reserve in it. A handful of dark chocolate truffles. A pillow, a good book, and an evening in the hammock. An image to carry through the day.
Just call me crazy
Feeling really crazy today. My life is out of control. Actually it's almost always been crazy and I'm just realizing it. Been thinking about violence today. It's been a bad day with violent words and actions. I find it incredible that I am the person who didn't want her children to have guns. I didn't want them to watch violent TV. My husband and I agreed we wouldn't ever own guns. Now my kids have pellet guns, they play terribly violent video games, and watch horribly violent movies. Where did it all go wrong? With words. With horribly violent words, thrown carelessly at the children and me. Did I notice? Did I stop it? No. How could I be so blind for so long? Now my children are not who I hoped they'd be. They have no confidence. They act violently. I find myself using violent phrases to describe the mundane, without even realizing it. I feel like my only influence on my children was to allow a violence that I didn't label as "violence." What kind of crazy mother have I been? I've worried about illness. I've tried to keep them safe from strangers. I've worked hard to help them with school. I've tried to teach them about God. All along, allowing my blindness to prevent me from protecting. Now I hear the violence and I feel it's too late. I've allowed myself to be bullied, and allowed them to be bullied by the man we all loved. This is a guilt that will last a lifetime. God forgive me.
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