Just Sayin'

My feelings are hurt and I just need to vent this. Nothing worse than having someone act like they have you pegged when they really don't know you at all.

I am 44 years old. I pay monthly on the student loans which paid for my two bachelor's degrees that I earned while I was a single parent and working full time. Both times.

I have been a mother since I was 20.

I have survived not one but TWO husbands who tried to kill me and a couple of others who bankrupted me and a number of them who have been unfaithful and then bailed out when the going got tough.

I sat through my 3 year-olds 6 hour brain surgery and then took him and my other two kids under the age of 12 home by myself to continue single parenting while he recovered. His dad and new wife went home.

I have moved these same children to a number of different addresses because they are my responsibility and in order to make more money, we had to move to a better job. My middle son attended 13 different schools.

I watched my son have over 40 seizures in the past 18 months, including one which lasted nearly half and hour and three that were induced in a hospital. I sat with him for 5 days at Cleveland Clinic- his father called once. Hope it wasn't an inconvenience.

I did not use an epidural for any of my three kids, I was too worried about it's effect on the delivery. I will NEVER EVER have the experience of a loving husband who is so happy about the lovely child we just made.

I have watched my daughter struggle with trusting men. I hope that with counseling she'll get through it, but honestly, the only men so far that have actually done what they said they were going to do were my Dad and Jesus - and both of them are in Heaven.

I have moved more furniture and boxes and toys more times than most Army wives.

I watched my middle son struggle with depression and identity and substance abuse and felt so incredibly helpless when I figured out that all I could do was pray about it.

I am ridiculous about having food in the pantry and a full fridge and worry about being able to feed my family even when I have plenty of money.

We spent over $13,000 in medical expenses last year treating Jake's epilepsy.

I do not believe anything I have is actually mine, but that I am entrusted as a steward of these belongings and I am to take care of them. Thus, sharing becomes easier if it wasn't yours in the first place.

I don't say any of this so that you will think I am so wonderful or so brave.

I say it because I am not brave, I am scared and often lonely and have nothing in the history which is my life to back up the belief that someone will love me back some day and stay with me except blind faith.

My family said I am intimidating, because I appear like I don't need anyone. Who the hell doesn't need ANYONE?? Of course I do.

I say this not because I am strong, but because I was put in these impossible situations and didn't have anyone else step up, I had to. I don't know what that means exactly. My dad would say that it was because I didn't have the luxury of falling apart. Well, you know what, sometimes it would be nice to be the one who is allowed to fall apart and act like a girl.

BUCKLE UP

My mom lives in Florida now, a result of having sold the lake house and moved to where there is a lot more to do. She relocated to The Villages, a retirement community for people who really want to maintain their active lifestyle - and she is never wanting for things to do or people to do them with.  While it took me a long time to get over losing the lakehouse, I can clearly see that the move has brought her back to life and that she is happy - so it's well worth it.  Lately, she has a friend who takes her for rides on his Harley.  My mom does this.  She may have been more of an adventurous soul than I thought!  I love the idea of her experiencing the freedom of riding the open road - and at 73, what is the worst that could happen?  Her life has an element of speed, something that normally I don't associate with her - but her daughter is intoxictated with speed...I like fast.  ALOT.

I am a closet fan of TOP GEAR- and I love to watch those guys go fast and run amok.  Growing up in Indy, I come by that addiction honestly- there is nothing like Indy in May - the roar of the engines at the speedway and everyone in town driving like they want to be Mario Andretti.  Just writing about it brings to mind those cookouts at the neighbor's house where they would have a backup Indy car in the driveway - burgers grilling, beer flowing and the conversation of contented people.

In April, I celebrated my two friends' birthdays.  I have had kind of a disjointed circle of friends since the divorce- mostly due to my own awkwardness - and I hate feeling like I might run into Justin at any moment - so I just declined invitations.  Not my smartest move.   At any rate, I went to the party and my friend Eileen had a bowl of fortune cookies as dessert (I don't eat cake, and I don't eat the cookie part either, usually).  I opened the first one "buckle up" is what it said.  We laughed and I declared that I'd be more careful with my seatbelt.

Then the conversation turned to my kids and I was pleased to report that Jerra and Josh both are working to try to get places of their own- I am soooo proud of their hard work and their willingness to do real labor to get what they want.  Then Eileens boyfriend came back with the bowl of cookies- they insisted that I got shorted on my wily fortune - so I picked another one.  Buckle up.  Again.  So now this is an admonition - I remark that I am a little afraid to drive home because it sounds like I am in for a bumpy ride.
So the cake comes around, we eat dinner, have a couple more Cokes and the last time the bowl with the cookies comes around.  I cannot even make up how freaked out I was when I got the same fortune a third time.  Truth is sooo much stranger than fiction.

We joked about this for days- and when I made it through without an accident or an issue - I figured I had avoided whatever the mishap was because I was buckled up.

But God has a sense of humor- recall that this is the creator of the platypus, and puppies who trip over their own feet - so it seems that it was a warning about the impending speed of my life. 

The kids were planning to move out - but now their timeline is greatly increased as I am moving out of this house and into a new life.  I wanted a change of scenery and more importantly, I was thinking of moving home because several of my close girlfriends are back home now - I'd like to grow old surrounded by these friends and also have my extended family.  I was hoping that Jerra and Josh might go with me - the time hasn't come yet to make a final decision - but it is likely that my time of mothering three kids alone is almost over - just like that and nearly as quickly as it started.  My time of being alone - almost over - starting a new life in a new home with my Love- so very near to reality that I can scarcely believe it.  Hang on to something - we are going to go fast.  I might want to buckle up- though it isn't particularly bumpy, it certainly is FAST.

Near Miss

When I drove by your house last year, I didn't even know  it was you I was looking for.  I only felt the joy and acceptance which had been a part of our childhood when I looked at that side door.  Never imagined your parents were still there- wish now I had stopped by.  I drove through the apartments where I had delivered the weekly newspaper. I saw the house at the end of my street - remember the one where they gave out hot chocolate and hot dogs for Halloween- one year we went there twice.  I got out of my car and looked into that drainage culvert- remember when the rain would be heavy and that water was churning and deep?  I could envision us climbing down the cement walls and crawling around the grate.  I like the other part of the creek better- where we would catch crawdads and you could smell fresh cut grass wafting through the air.

I drove by my house, as though seeing those brick pillars would give me a moment of connection to my dad.  I've been trying to find that version of myself- the bold and unafraid one- for quite some time and I hoped that seeing the place where I saw her last would help.

I went to the Reyburn's house and talked with one of the boys- the pool where we played sharks and minnows and Marco Polo a zillion times still looked the same. 

I have such beautiful memories of that time and that place in our lives. My gosh, no wonder I thought the world wouldn't hurt me- we lived a wonderous life.

Tonight, though, I wonder if my friend is right: if I would have slowed down, would I have seen things differently.  I don't like to torture myself with "what-ifs" but they do make me thankful that I said yes to dinner and discovered the miracle of falling in love with my friend.

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You're Amazing

Any of you have been following for a period of time will know that my love life is the stuff of Greek Tragedies: naked preachers, drunks, Peter Pan.  It has not gone well - and I finally figured it out.

Knee-deep in my latest attempt to prove to someone that I was worth their time and energy and love the most remarkable thing happened.  I found out what TRUE LOVE actually was. 

I've had a crush on one of my friends for months now - and each encounter I would tell myself that things were getting better, moving forward, making progress.  This fits the way it always goes, I work hard, and by virtue of receiving all that affection the object of my affection believes they are in love.  Well, this one wasn't budging.  He is a good man, and deserves someone great so I did something I've never done before: I turned it over to God.

For Lent, I went to daily Mass and each day I prayed for this man's heart and I prayed that God would watch over my soulmate because he must be as lonely as I am - trying to figure out why no one else fits.

10 days passed - nothing
20 days passed  - nothing
30 days....well you get the picture.

Then on the Tuesday before Easter, I just couldn't take it anymore.  I thought I had seen progress and then, nothing.  I was really hurt and so I turned to the only Man I knew could help.  I told Him that He knew my pain - that He knew I had tried to make it work before and it just didn't. I asked Him to show me what else I needed to change.  And in perfect form- I cried until I fell asleep.

Then a miracle happened - but being a little dense, I didn't know it.
I got an email from one of my childhood friends - he was in Atlanta and wanted to know if there was anything fun to do here.  We met for dinner - and what followed was easy conversation and lots of catching up.  We closed down the restaurant.
Since it was so much fun, we tried it again the next night - again closing things down.
I didn't feel alone anymore - I had found a friend who had experienced a lot of the same things I had- and he was easy to talk to.  It was awesome.
So weeks pass and the emails get more and more frequent.
Then I asked him if he had thought about kissing me - and it turns out he was still thinking about it.

This is odd to me because love is supposed to include making all these adjustments and melding lives and working to sync up to the object of your affection.  I don't know what THIS is.   I mean, I have heard it before, how people just click or just know - and I honestly thought it was bullshit - the stuff of romance novels.

Last weekend I went to see him - for two reasons.
One, I didn't have a definition for what this was- and I didn't want to mess up a great friendship with all this talk of kissing.  A part of me thought that he'd kiss me and that would be it - it would be like kissing his brother or something and then we would shake our heads and agree that a friendship was best.  This was honestly what I thought would happen - and since I was still in contact with the object of my infatuation and he had agreed to go to dinner and a movie - I wanted to be able to enjoy that without thinking about my friend from Indy.
Two, There was a spark at dinner and I found myself waiting anxiously for his emails and wanting to talk to him again. I can tell him anything and I have not had to be anything but honest.  I love the things that he says and I knew there was the possibility that it might be magic.
Okay - so maybe that is the same reason - I had to know what was happening- and being an innately curious girl - I went to Indy.

And when I kissed him, all doubt was removed.  It is like being home- there is laughter, teasing, joy and for the first time not only do I not have to hide who I am- he has disarmed my defences and I couldn't hide if I wanted to. I haven't changed anything and he loves me.  What a miracle that is. 

From Slackers to Loners

It's true, I have become a blogging slacker.

I think I got a little overly satiated with all the writing when I was actively working on a book - something I am still interested in doing, but don't feel called to do right this moment.

Over the past 3 years I have seen a REAL trend toward slackerhood in both my own kids and their friends. Seemed that the smallest hurdle would cause them to just pack it in and try something else. I wondered if a lot of that was because of what happened when we moved here, a long healing period after the upheaval of leaving Lafayette.

The most amazing thing has happened, though, in the past couple of months: an awakening of sorts- a call to what could be- and people willing to answer that call.

Someone once chastized me because I don't think about all the reasons something can't work. I am certainly not some sort of magician and just think things into being, but I don't talk myself out of them either.

So what if I try something and it doesn't work- at least I gave it my all and now I know. Education is in fact, expensive. Both in learning about what you want to be when you grow up and in learning about people. I like the idea of dreaming something - thinking about how to make it work and then trying it out.

And the kids have started this same mindset. It is wonderful to watch.

When my great grandfather lived in Logansport, they ran a building and lumber company - Loner Lumber. That site is now Ivy Tech in Logan, and it still seems like hallowed ground to me. My father and his siblings are all college grads - something not every man and woman was in the 60s and 70s. A pretty impressive accomplishment for my grandparents to have 8 kids who were all professionals. But I digress. My father and his brothers worked at Loner Lumber when they were younger- planing boards, cutting wood, pounding nails and building lots of Logan houses. It was good honest work and I think it greatly influenced my dad's work ethic.

I remember growing up that my father would say that any job we did should be something we were proud to put our names on - that we would always be known by our work. I hated rewashing dishes or refolding towels- but the truth of the matter is that he was right.

And so it came to pass that my daughter and son were looking for work in a poopy economy and found someone looking for a crew to do construction and renovations on a foreclosed house. They took the challenge.

It would be one thing to say there was a conversion based on what I was told, but it is a whole other thing to see kids who have been floundering now elbow-deep in plaster and paint and wood screws. They really rose to the challenge, and like my dad, found self-worth in seeing the fruits of their labor. Now we also learned a valuable lesson about trusting people on Craigslist - they never received the remainder of their pay- but they did the work and what they came away with was more valuable than money.

Construction has been put away for the time-being, except for the little repairs we need at our own house and the odd jobs the kids get from friends. But the transformation has stayed.

I finally see- after nearly 6 years - the kids I had before we had to leave Indiana. They are confident and fun and industrious and best of all - enrolled back in school and getting on with their lives.

No Woman No Cry

When I was in high school, my friend John Shepley introduced me to Bob Marley. It was intoxicating: the rhythm, the feeling that I was dabbling in some black magic, the secret truths and the ganja- well everyting about Bob Marley smacked of liberation. Appropriately enough.

Tonight at the pub, he was playing over the loudspeakers and I heard his truth again:
My fear is my only courage.

Think about that for a minute.

In my current situation, my fear of repeating my same mistakes, my fear of facing the day where I will say: what if I had given more of myself, my fear of slipping into a jaded existance have all motivated me to have the courage to forge a path that I have not forged before.

I find myself stopping- reconsidering, thinking through things - in ways I have not done before.
It is refreshing - and when my love says: slow down and tell me what you need to say. I'm not going anywhere - I want to understand what you are saying.... I feel beautiful and valuable and well, I feel ways I have not felt before.

There has been passion before- the electricity and chemistry which as I have grown older, I realize is more infatuation and lust than actual love. I like passion, don't get me wrong, but it can get in the way of actually SEEING the person before you as a person, not just an illusion-filled object of your affection.

This is something smoldering. You know how a banked fire keeps the embers lit and warm overnight, offering the assurance of continued fire tomorrow? That is what this feels like.

It has been over 20 years since the man I was with was a grown-up: someone able and willing to take care of himself and his needs while protecting and providing for me. I've been waiting a long time, and whether this is permanent or just for now, I have decided to let my fear boost my courage and go down this new path.

No crying is nice for a change.

The Saga of Loner's Landing

SOOOOO
My mom and my retirement fund came to the rescue and allowed us to get the house issue taken care of. Funny that when my dad said I should sock away money in my retirement so that I could borrow it for a rainy day I never thought that advice would get me out of a spot this sticky. Whew!
So thanks Dad for the advice, thanks Mom for the loan and kids, when I am retired adn wandering aroudn teh house looking for my drink rather than terroroizing old men at the retirement home ( because I used my retirement fund to keep our house) you kids will just have to tolerate me and possibly ply me with good bourbon. Currently I like Red Stag Black Cherry Bourbon- safe bet to stock up now so that at least if I am wandering around searching for my drink I am happy about it.

Now part two about the house:
The truth is that most of the repairs I have done were to the best of my ability - but my ability is REALLY limited. So there are repairs and improvements that are done "half-assed" if you will pardon the phrase. Since money is tight, we are going to start with the most critical repairs and work our way out. The wear and tear of 5 people and one little 4-year-old utilizing the bathroom has left it with two leaky faucets and what feels like an ongoing funk- so the bathroom is first. Don't worry - I'll post some pictures for you!

The Rescuers

I remember when I started working for Medtronic, my Dad looked over my benefit information and advised me to make sure I invested in my retirement. We have a couple of options and the company takes very good care of me. As a CFO, he recognized this benefit and told me this was a great job. He was right- it is.

Over the past 18 months we have spent an unbelievable amount of money on medical bills. While America may still have insured health care, mess that it is, there are copays if you want to get things done- especially if you have to make a trip to the ER. So, I have a fairly finite salary, I have two kids who are working, but for minimal wages, and one kid not quite old enough to work who is in school. There just isn't a big revenue stream - which is something LOTS of families are facing right now.

So....little by little the mortgage has slipped behind. A few hundred dollars short one month, then a couple months later the same thing- it has gone on for quite a while. Long enough in fact for the mortgage company to notice, unfortunately. Three weeks ago I got a notice about foreclosure - and I have been sick about it ever since. How will I come up with the back money- will they even let me- will I be packing over Christmas instead of celebrating???? Super fun questions for this season, let me tell you.

I talked to God about this. I always feel a little uncomfortable asking God to help me out of a mess that to some degree, I created, but considering it meant losing or keeping the house, I didn't think I had much choice- so I asked Him to take pity on us- and on Nicole and Charlie who have already lost one home this year. He told me to pay attention- which He says quite often in response to my prayers. So.... I got all of the letters from the mortgage company and the lawyer's office and read through them. Then I filled out every last worksheet I could find from teh lawyer's office and sent it all in - followed up by several phone calls- and I got a dollar figure to work with. Honestly, once the problem is defined, it is a WHOLE lot easier to deal with!

I called a friend who does financial planning- since I can't call my Dad anymore about this stuff, and he suggested that I let the Church help me back- that is still in process. Then I called my mom, and asked her to loan me part of the money- but it is only a loan, meaning I still need to come up with cash to pay her back as I am borrowing from her retirement funds. Then it struck me: I have a retirement fund as well. Dad encouraged me to put a nice chunk of each check in that fund so that I would have "a little something put away". And amazingly enough, we are allowed to take a loan out from that money. Unbelievable. What I thought was a hopeless situation has resolved itself with 8 days to go before Christmas. Hoorah!

I am trying to use the refinancing options- trying to make a long-term fix, though I anticipate that with three months seizureless for us, our days of rampant medical bills should be over. Anyway, I just wanted to express my thanks for my Mom and my dad and my Father in Heaven for watching over me and being there when I needed their help the most. Thanks

Beauty Before Me

This morning the air was crisp, but at 45degrees, it was hardly freezing. I drove my daughter and her friend around at the crack of dawn after a very refreshing early night last night.
Nothing says rednecks like a pair of Amazon women walking into WalMart at 8am - one in pink polkadot fleece pajamas and the other in army green pants and a flannel shirt. Classy pair, my daughter and I, especially uncaffienated.

Here is something that perplexes me: why would someone say that they "have other plans" and then call to see what you are doing at 1130PM, surprised that you don't answer. I'm not doing anything except that pile of home tasks that I have put aside because I have been spending LOTS of free time with you....and I took the whole " I have other plans" completely the wrong way- assuming that you had plans with someone else that you couldn't tell me about. Yeesh- the ongoing payment for former lovers' bad behavior. Sometimes I wonder why there isn't a way to go in and undo all that faulty wiring. That would be a way to make my millions, right? Figuring out a way to undo all the damage that former lovers do to the psyche.

I really care about this man- and though we have not clearly established what kind of friends we are going to be long-term, it is clear that we are going to be friends for a very long time. All this made me wonder this morning: who do I really want to be in a partnership?

Well, I dont' want to be the victim in need of rescue- always having someone prove their trustworthiness - always looking to see what was done for me lately to appraise the worthiness of my suitor. I've seen this in action- it isn't pretty- and being on the verge of walking away all the time is just exhausting.

I don't want to be blinded by love, unable to see my love clearly, unable to tell if there is a movement from what is healthy and good into what is pathological and hurtful to us both. I would like to be blind to physical imperfections - but otherwise, I need to be able to see.

I don't want to be jaded and believe that I cannot give my heart away because it will only get broken again. I want to be someone who still believes in love- that is for darn sure.

I've been working on being who it is I really want to be as a partner for about 6 months now- trying to be honest with myself in my own shortcomings and catching myself in those self-defeating behaviors which haven't done anything to help me thus far.

I do want to be loving and kind and trustworthy and fun and most importantly: alive.

There is pumpkin and sausage soup on the stove - from a pumpkin I bought back in October who has graced my counter for over two months. The soup is warm and smells of sage and nutmeg- lovely for a day where big fluffy snowflakes drift lazily from the sky- like bluehaired ladies floating down the Lazy River, watching life pass along beside them.

The house is clean - a result of having nothing to do last night- and the need to quiet my mind. Sure sign that I have a lot on my mind: The house is clean.

There is beauty in having food on the stove, clean clothes in the closet, clean floors and bathrooms, and being caught up on my work for the weekend. There is beauty in the simplicity of a wood fire on a snowy night. There is beauty in the laughter of my boys playing in the front room and my daughter wrapping presents to go under the tree with her boyfriend.

In the peace that is my house, there is beauty in the normal comings and goings of everyday people making a life for themselves.

And in appreciating this beauty I allow myself to be happy.

Pearl Harbor Day- a day of remembrance

Today is December 7th - which in our country will forever call to mind the attack at Pearl Harbor. There are stories floating around of people who were concerned about blips on the radar and rumors of Japanese ships which were way too close. Stories of these threats being reported, but no being acted upon. For some reason, the powers that be were not moved or convinced or concerned - I don't know because I just wasn't there - and stories told now by survivors are tainted with the pain of remembering decades of pain. It is hard to see where the truth is.

So many things around us are unclear-and it is so often the case that it is hard to see where the truth is. Even now, in the age of internet enlightenment and a doozen educational channels on cable, there are things that are difficult to explain like crop circles and standing stones and alien ships and Area 51 and ghosts and terrorist groups and saints and miracles and healings and the ten million conspiracy theories which swirl around. It is a lot to take in- but it catches my attention non-the-less. Where is the truth - the reality - the part of these stories that I should be paying attention to and learn from? How do you tease that out so that when the Japanese planes come buzzing overhead with the dawn, your troops are protected? Do we need to worry about being protected at all - and if so, from what?

I refuse to live in fear. We tried that once- it just wasn't the carnival ride you'd expect. I also refuse to live a life with my head in the sand.

As Catholics we profess to believe in all that is seen and unseen. Those guys at Nicea were not just throwing words together- they understoon a thousand years ago- and before - that there are things we do not see and do not understand. Okay, I have to agree with that. There are lots of things that I understand that I cannot see like atoms and the ozone layer- so I can believe that. But there are also spiritual forces that I cannot see - and just because I don't want to believe in them, doesnt' mean they aren't there. I like the idea of lumping all those menacing things together as the unseen.

But in believing in them, it is akin to believing in the threat from the blips on the radar and the rumors of war: they require that we prepare and pay attention.

We each have our little daily battles - some of us more heavily laden in our packs than others- but the war does go on.

Today, on this day of remembrance, I hope the Lord will look down with love on those families who were impacted byt Pearl Harbor - and those families who are heavily laden today - blessing them with his infusion of love.

Today, I remember and learn from the history of my people.