Today was unexpectedly one of the most pleasant days I have had in a long time!
My dear friend from NCSU days, Beth (can you believe we have been friends over 20 years now!) took a random day off of work and called to see if she could come visit! And so today I went to work in the morning - I taught a BF class to a young expectant mother, and then when I got home, Beth was here. We got mom, and the three of us went out to lunch and over to the Gaston County Museum to see the tapestry exhibit.
Afterwards, we went and picked Paul up from school, made a quick grocery run and came home to cook dinner, visit and Skype! with Sandra! How much fun is that! Sandra and Beth hadn't seen / talked to each other in perhaps 2 years? 3 years? but we just all picked up and jumped right back into our friendships....
Grilled chicken - after making an emergency run to exchange the gas cylinder (oops!) and enjoyed corn on the cob - grilled asparagus and chicken.
After Beth left, I took mom home, then went out running! Hooray me! I made it through the Week 4-2 Run! I can't believe it! I might actually become a runner! I ran for 6 minutes and walked for 2 minutes and repeated it 3 times!
Rejoice with me too, that I have good friends and a spiritual director who is patient and kind, yet holds me accountable. God is so very Good.
Today was such a blessing. A respite in the midst of everything else.
Happy end of Lent.
I must go off to bed - tomorrow I get to work with moms and babies and other nurses.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Really?
Tell me, is it really that hard to eat Pork Tenderloin if you don't love it? And how long does it take?
Apparently, if you are a five year old & a slow picky eater, it will take more than 45 minutes to eat three small medallions, and you won't eat all of them. You also won't eat couscous or green peas without a fight. And then you won't be happy after dinner, either.
Did I really sign up for this?
Does endurance and (seemingly ineffective) coping really help me grow in virute and holiness because I don't run out screaming? I don't feel particularly holy right now, and I was in a state of grace earlier today! Argh!
Oh well, tomorrow is another day. The pork tenderloin is almost finished (we probably have one more night / main dish of some sort ahead)
I still need to teach someone I love that saying "No" to me does not ever end well. Unsure how to do that, open to any/all suggestions. This evening it was going STRAIGHT to bed without the usual bathroom pit stop, change into pajamas or tooth brushing. I was proud of myself for not yelling.
Apparently, if you are a five year old & a slow picky eater, it will take more than 45 minutes to eat three small medallions, and you won't eat all of them. You also won't eat couscous or green peas without a fight. And then you won't be happy after dinner, either.
Did I really sign up for this?
Does endurance and (seemingly ineffective) coping really help me grow in virute and holiness because I don't run out screaming? I don't feel particularly holy right now, and I was in a state of grace earlier today! Argh!
Oh well, tomorrow is another day. The pork tenderloin is almost finished (we probably have one more night / main dish of some sort ahead)
I still need to teach someone I love that saying "No" to me does not ever end well. Unsure how to do that, open to any/all suggestions. This evening it was going STRAIGHT to bed without the usual bathroom pit stop, change into pajamas or tooth brushing. I was proud of myself for not yelling.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Commit in haste, repent at leisure?
Always interesting what lent will teach a person....
Since ash Wednesday, I have been thinking about my spiritual life and health. If you haven't, there's still time before holy week - jump in! The great thing about Lent is that it gives one the chance to jump back in to the spiritual life, or at least refocus one's thoughts upon it. Some years have been better than others in terms of sacrifice, prayer, almsgiving & fasting, and I will admit that this year has so far been a smattering of prayer and spiritual reading.... but I have been given a great gift.
On the day before Ash Wednesday, I went looking for the book that would be my lenten companion this year, Henri Nouwen's The Return of the Prodigal Son, and in the search process, found another of Nouwen book in my collection, along with an email from 12 years ago that I had printed out and saved.... In the email, I was realizing that I had been lax in a committment that I made, and that I was being called back to it. I had made the committment in a "happy, joyful, 'I can do this'" kind of way, and at that moment I realized that I was being called to keep the committment, even though it had become a difficult, almost burdensome thing to continue.
And then re-reading, The Return of the Prodigal Son, I realized that I am often an observer of the spiritual life. Yes, I participate in it, and I am often drawn deeply into the spiritual depths (my terms, not sure if it is really deep, or just my imagination) but when it becomes too deep, I panic, and not wanting to drown, I just float back to shallow water.... I look back at where I have been and think, "I really want to be back at that spiritually aware/alive place again", or perhaps I see someone that I admire, and I want to be where they are, so I wade back into the spiritual life again. If I just stay constant, perhaps there won't be all of this going back and forth?
So putting all of this together, and talking to Fr B. yesterday, I realized that this has been my pattern for a long time. I make committments, perhaps even over committments, with the thought that "I can do this" or "This will be fun" and for a time it is fun, and I can do it, whatever it is, but if I am not constant in my doing, or being, it is not possible to continue.
This is perhaps why marriage is such a struggle for so many - the committment is made at a time when it appears easy. We are young, our lives are full of promise, we share a common vision of family life, good health, energy, companionship. And then the daily routine of committment sets in. The committment of taking care of each other, even when we ourselves are tired, ill or disagreeable. The task at hand is mundane and overlooked, unappreciated. And yet, every day, we are called to renew and remember the committment. I married my husband so that I could take care of him and be cared for by him. I married him so that I could make breakfast even though I would like to sleep for 25 more minutes. He married me so that he could go to work and earn a living to support us, even though he might like to take a day off. We married each other so that we could do good things together and be a witness of Christ's love, present in the world. We were given the gift of a child. Now the committment includes caring for each other, the child and the larger community.
The original committment is still there, and daily, I am called to remember it. And it works because I know that I honor my committment and I know that my husband honors it as well.
And that is the beauty of this reflection for me..... the committments I have kept have borne great fruit. The ones I have been less than faithful to have been less fruitful, or have faded out of my general day to day awareness.
The committment I was struggling with 12 years ago was the one I had made to pray for priests. I made the committment in 1999. I felt called to pray. I still feel called to pray. I pray the rosary frequently (sometimes daily, usually at least weekly) and on the Hail Mary beads I remember priests. I started a list, and it has grown over the years, it continues to grow. The fruit that the prayer gave me was that when my family was in need of a priest for my father, we had not one, but seven to come and visit him while he was in the hospital. We also had three deacons! I wouldn't go so far as to say that these priests came to us only because of my prayer, but I certainly believe that God cannot be outdone in generosity, and that we were blessed with more prayer and support than I could have imagined before everything happened.
The commitment that I work through every day is my vocation to being a wife and mother. And it is bearing good fruit. We have been married nearly 10 years (June 15th if anyone is taking notes) and we lack for nothing.
The committment I struggle with daily is just to be faithful to prayer and care for myself. It is so easy to just be slack, to make excuses. I cannot exercise today because.... I don't want to brush my teeth, I want to go to sleep..... I can't clear the table, coffee table, lamp table, any other flat spot because..... And I know now, after talking to Fr B., praying, reading and thinking about what I am called to, and what I have committed to, that in order for me to grow in holiness, I must accept and fulfill my committment. If I live up to the Yes that I give daily to being married, mother and child of God, then I won't be overwhelmed by what must be done.
Since ash Wednesday, I have been thinking about my spiritual life and health. If you haven't, there's still time before holy week - jump in! The great thing about Lent is that it gives one the chance to jump back in to the spiritual life, or at least refocus one's thoughts upon it. Some years have been better than others in terms of sacrifice, prayer, almsgiving & fasting, and I will admit that this year has so far been a smattering of prayer and spiritual reading.... but I have been given a great gift.
On the day before Ash Wednesday, I went looking for the book that would be my lenten companion this year, Henri Nouwen's The Return of the Prodigal Son, and in the search process, found another of Nouwen book in my collection, along with an email from 12 years ago that I had printed out and saved.... In the email, I was realizing that I had been lax in a committment that I made, and that I was being called back to it. I had made the committment in a "happy, joyful, 'I can do this'" kind of way, and at that moment I realized that I was being called to keep the committment, even though it had become a difficult, almost burdensome thing to continue.
And then re-reading, The Return of the Prodigal Son, I realized that I am often an observer of the spiritual life. Yes, I participate in it, and I am often drawn deeply into the spiritual depths (my terms, not sure if it is really deep, or just my imagination) but when it becomes too deep, I panic, and not wanting to drown, I just float back to shallow water.... I look back at where I have been and think, "I really want to be back at that spiritually aware/alive place again", or perhaps I see someone that I admire, and I want to be where they are, so I wade back into the spiritual life again. If I just stay constant, perhaps there won't be all of this going back and forth?
So putting all of this together, and talking to Fr B. yesterday, I realized that this has been my pattern for a long time. I make committments, perhaps even over committments, with the thought that "I can do this" or "This will be fun" and for a time it is fun, and I can do it, whatever it is, but if I am not constant in my doing, or being, it is not possible to continue.
This is perhaps why marriage is such a struggle for so many - the committment is made at a time when it appears easy. We are young, our lives are full of promise, we share a common vision of family life, good health, energy, companionship. And then the daily routine of committment sets in. The committment of taking care of each other, even when we ourselves are tired, ill or disagreeable. The task at hand is mundane and overlooked, unappreciated. And yet, every day, we are called to renew and remember the committment. I married my husband so that I could take care of him and be cared for by him. I married him so that I could make breakfast even though I would like to sleep for 25 more minutes. He married me so that he could go to work and earn a living to support us, even though he might like to take a day off. We married each other so that we could do good things together and be a witness of Christ's love, present in the world. We were given the gift of a child. Now the committment includes caring for each other, the child and the larger community.
The original committment is still there, and daily, I am called to remember it. And it works because I know that I honor my committment and I know that my husband honors it as well.
And that is the beauty of this reflection for me..... the committments I have kept have borne great fruit. The ones I have been less than faithful to have been less fruitful, or have faded out of my general day to day awareness.
The committment I was struggling with 12 years ago was the one I had made to pray for priests. I made the committment in 1999. I felt called to pray. I still feel called to pray. I pray the rosary frequently (sometimes daily, usually at least weekly) and on the Hail Mary beads I remember priests. I started a list, and it has grown over the years, it continues to grow. The fruit that the prayer gave me was that when my family was in need of a priest for my father, we had not one, but seven to come and visit him while he was in the hospital. We also had three deacons! I wouldn't go so far as to say that these priests came to us only because of my prayer, but I certainly believe that God cannot be outdone in generosity, and that we were blessed with more prayer and support than I could have imagined before everything happened.
The commitment that I work through every day is my vocation to being a wife and mother. And it is bearing good fruit. We have been married nearly 10 years (June 15th if anyone is taking notes) and we lack for nothing.
The committment I struggle with daily is just to be faithful to prayer and care for myself. It is so easy to just be slack, to make excuses. I cannot exercise today because.... I don't want to brush my teeth, I want to go to sleep..... I can't clear the table, coffee table, lamp table, any other flat spot because..... And I know now, after talking to Fr B., praying, reading and thinking about what I am called to, and what I have committed to, that in order for me to grow in holiness, I must accept and fulfill my committment. If I live up to the Yes that I give daily to being married, mother and child of God, then I won't be overwhelmed by what must be done.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Two times a month - blessing or curse?
Today, I have to thank my dear friend, Sandra for changing my perspective.....
I have been charting my monthly cycle, both the fertility and the flow for some time now. And I use a little program (app) on my phone that projects out when my next cycle will be due. The program projects it out at least a year ahead based completely on numbers.... the last six cycle lengths are averaged together to give the projected cycle etc..... So I was looking at these upcoming months and realizing, "hey, my cycle is only 23 days long, my period is 4 days, I could have TWO periods in one month! Ugh!" And it is true. I am projected to have two periods completely within the month of April.
But then, thanks to Sandra's help, I looked at the month of May and realized I have two potentially fertile times. And it made me happier.....
Meanwhile, I am taking vitamins and what my DH refers to as a 'happy pill' to help stretch my monthly cycle back out to somewhere around 28 days. This month it was 25 days, and I wasn't overly grouchy for the last 12 days, so it seems to be working.
Today's task - grocery shopping so that I can have dinner at home the rest of this week. And figure out lunch for Paul - he no longer wants a sandwich in his lunch box! I knew this day would come, I have no idea how I am going to deal with it. Today it was spaghettio's with vienna sausages mixed together, cheetoes and juice. I will give him an apple after school. And he did have yogurt as a morning snack.
I have been charting my monthly cycle, both the fertility and the flow for some time now. And I use a little program (app) on my phone that projects out when my next cycle will be due. The program projects it out at least a year ahead based completely on numbers.... the last six cycle lengths are averaged together to give the projected cycle etc..... So I was looking at these upcoming months and realizing, "hey, my cycle is only 23 days long, my period is 4 days, I could have TWO periods in one month! Ugh!" And it is true. I am projected to have two periods completely within the month of April.
But then, thanks to Sandra's help, I looked at the month of May and realized I have two potentially fertile times. And it made me happier.....
Meanwhile, I am taking vitamins and what my DH refers to as a 'happy pill' to help stretch my monthly cycle back out to somewhere around 28 days. This month it was 25 days, and I wasn't overly grouchy for the last 12 days, so it seems to be working.
Today's task - grocery shopping so that I can have dinner at home the rest of this week. And figure out lunch for Paul - he no longer wants a sandwich in his lunch box! I knew this day would come, I have no idea how I am going to deal with it. Today it was spaghettio's with vienna sausages mixed together, cheetoes and juice. I will give him an apple after school. And he did have yogurt as a morning snack.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
A new way to miss dad
Today, I was fine. Most of the day. And then I remembered that I missed dad.
Today, I was able to talk about dad in the past tense and not be upset by it. I could say, "Dad would have liked that..." and I was OK.
What would dad have liked? The expression PMS meaning "Papa Must Suffer"! Poor man, he knew the meaning of those words, even if he didn't have the expression at the tip of his tongue.
And then a friend called and asked if he could have a few more of the holy cards that we gave out at dad's funeral. He is working on his relationship with the Blessed Mother and the image on dad's card was OL of Tenderness. This friend was close to dad and loved dad's spirituality. He is going to do something that dad would totally have done himself, and probably did do at some point or another... he is going to place the cards around him so that he will be quietly reminded of the Blessed Mother's care and concern whenever he finds an image of OLT again. And I expect that he might even offer up an occasional prayer for dad, too.
It was just nice to be reminded that my mom and my sisters and I aren't the only ones who miss and remember dad. And to realize that we all miss him in a different way, each one being a valid snap shot of who dad was to each of us, individually.
My neice was missing dad today, too. Via music.
I was missing dad at mass - via music. Close to communion. I think that is the hardest time, and I am not sure why, except that I know the gift of faith is the biggest gift dad gave me, and I feel him present in the mass - perhaps the communion of saints is closer to earth than I had realized.
Today, I was able to talk about dad in the past tense and not be upset by it. I could say, "Dad would have liked that..." and I was OK.
What would dad have liked? The expression PMS meaning "Papa Must Suffer"! Poor man, he knew the meaning of those words, even if he didn't have the expression at the tip of his tongue.
And then a friend called and asked if he could have a few more of the holy cards that we gave out at dad's funeral. He is working on his relationship with the Blessed Mother and the image on dad's card was OL of Tenderness. This friend was close to dad and loved dad's spirituality. He is going to do something that dad would totally have done himself, and probably did do at some point or another... he is going to place the cards around him so that he will be quietly reminded of the Blessed Mother's care and concern whenever he finds an image of OLT again. And I expect that he might even offer up an occasional prayer for dad, too.
It was just nice to be reminded that my mom and my sisters and I aren't the only ones who miss and remember dad. And to realize that we all miss him in a different way, each one being a valid snap shot of who dad was to each of us, individually.
My neice was missing dad today, too. Via music.
I was missing dad at mass - via music. Close to communion. I think that is the hardest time, and I am not sure why, except that I know the gift of faith is the biggest gift dad gave me, and I feel him present in the mass - perhaps the communion of saints is closer to earth than I had realized.
Friday, March 9, 2012
And now for a dose of humble pie....
Well, I suppose it had to happen at some point....
I would have an "ah ha!" moment and realize I had been completely wrong about something totally obvious.... and what was it?
Shoe size.
In my defense, I will say that all shoes are not sized the same way. Or at least athletic cleats for soccer are tighter than ordinary street shoes.
So, last spring when Paul was playing soccer, we bought him his first pair of cleats - child's size 10. By the end of the season, we had a hard time getting those shoes on his feet, so when the summer season started, we bought him a new pair of size 11 cleats.
When I was doing school shopping by catalog, I bought him a pair of size 12 tennies - cool ones with an elastic pull string closure that I thought were perfect for him. And when school started, these became the every day shoes.... the only problem was that he never kept them on his feet. No matter how much we fussed and fumed, cajoled or praised the shoes came off in a heartbeat.... chuch, school, car. 30 seconds: at least one shoe was off..... We tightened the elastic - to the point that it wasn't stretchy any more.
And then... I bought another pair of shoes. Size 13. I if the elastic was that stretched out, the shoes must be too small.
His teacher commented the first day that he wore the shoes that she didn't understand what was wrong, but the shoes just kept coming off! I looked, and boy wonder had put the shoes on without holding onto the tongue - the tongue was bunched up at the toe! That should have been my first sign.... And so we corrected the tongue and still, the shoes came off quickly, with very little provocation.
Did I mention that my sweet boy has an odd gate? He runs like a girl who can't run.
Well, this week, something finally clicked.... I was angry about a different issue all together, and the new shoes were mentioned as being a part of the problem (maybe, but perhaps just an excuse from the dear one, but still, they were mentioned) and so I decided that something HAD to be done.
I took the dear boy to a real shoe store, and I measured his feet. Guess what? His shoe size measured at 10 1/2. I just bought him size 13! and I had been putting size 12 on him for this entire year! No wonder the shoes wouldn't stay on his feet, no wonder his gait is bizarre..... he has been compensating for clown shoes, rather than wearing shoes that fit!
I found a pair of size 11 (yes they are a smidge large) canvas tennies and he was able to wear them sans laces and RUN with them. He was able to run out of them only when he running on his tip-toes.... I bought laces. Now the challenge is to teach him to tie his shoes.... and his kindergarten teachers have announced that they don't tie shoes past Christmas - so he is on his own to figure it out..... we will be working hard at it this weekend, I am sure....
So, to all of my mom friends out there, please learn from my mistake - at least once a year, go to a real shoe store, or at least a store that has a foot sizer (or some such device) and get your little one's feet measured! And if your sweet little one somehow manages to walk out of his/her shoes or they come off unintentionally more often than you care to admit, just double check the size..... you might be dealing with some of the same frustration I have had for the last 6 months - completely preventable.
Dinner this week:
sketchy at best....
we (mark and I) were sick.
I managed to cook some chicken on Sunday and we had taco salad one night,
burritoes two nights
ate out two nights and now I have to work the next two days and my DH won't cook unless I tell him exactly what to prepare. It's a good thing that I quit equating cooking with love, because I would be convinced I was unloved if I had to wait for my DH to have dinner ready when I get home!
On a bright note, Sam's had mutant-large oranges, and they are delicious! I am at least eating a little fruit.....
On another bright note, I have somehow managed to run twice in the last 3 days, and 3 times in the last 7 days - I might make it to week 4 before the end of next week! There could be a 5K in my future before pentecost!
I would have an "ah ha!" moment and realize I had been completely wrong about something totally obvious.... and what was it?
Shoe size.
In my defense, I will say that all shoes are not sized the same way. Or at least athletic cleats for soccer are tighter than ordinary street shoes.
So, last spring when Paul was playing soccer, we bought him his first pair of cleats - child's size 10. By the end of the season, we had a hard time getting those shoes on his feet, so when the summer season started, we bought him a new pair of size 11 cleats.
When I was doing school shopping by catalog, I bought him a pair of size 12 tennies - cool ones with an elastic pull string closure that I thought were perfect for him. And when school started, these became the every day shoes.... the only problem was that he never kept them on his feet. No matter how much we fussed and fumed, cajoled or praised the shoes came off in a heartbeat.... chuch, school, car. 30 seconds: at least one shoe was off..... We tightened the elastic - to the point that it wasn't stretchy any more.
And then... I bought another pair of shoes. Size 13. I if the elastic was that stretched out, the shoes must be too small.
His teacher commented the first day that he wore the shoes that she didn't understand what was wrong, but the shoes just kept coming off! I looked, and boy wonder had put the shoes on without holding onto the tongue - the tongue was bunched up at the toe! That should have been my first sign.... And so we corrected the tongue and still, the shoes came off quickly, with very little provocation.
Did I mention that my sweet boy has an odd gate? He runs like a girl who can't run.
Well, this week, something finally clicked.... I was angry about a different issue all together, and the new shoes were mentioned as being a part of the problem (maybe, but perhaps just an excuse from the dear one, but still, they were mentioned) and so I decided that something HAD to be done.
I took the dear boy to a real shoe store, and I measured his feet. Guess what? His shoe size measured at 10 1/2. I just bought him size 13! and I had been putting size 12 on him for this entire year! No wonder the shoes wouldn't stay on his feet, no wonder his gait is bizarre..... he has been compensating for clown shoes, rather than wearing shoes that fit!
I found a pair of size 11 (yes they are a smidge large) canvas tennies and he was able to wear them sans laces and RUN with them. He was able to run out of them only when he running on his tip-toes.... I bought laces. Now the challenge is to teach him to tie his shoes.... and his kindergarten teachers have announced that they don't tie shoes past Christmas - so he is on his own to figure it out..... we will be working hard at it this weekend, I am sure....
So, to all of my mom friends out there, please learn from my mistake - at least once a year, go to a real shoe store, or at least a store that has a foot sizer (or some such device) and get your little one's feet measured! And if your sweet little one somehow manages to walk out of his/her shoes or they come off unintentionally more often than you care to admit, just double check the size..... you might be dealing with some of the same frustration I have had for the last 6 months - completely preventable.
Dinner this week:
sketchy at best....
we (mark and I) were sick.
I managed to cook some chicken on Sunday and we had taco salad one night,
burritoes two nights
ate out two nights and now I have to work the next two days and my DH won't cook unless I tell him exactly what to prepare. It's a good thing that I quit equating cooking with love, because I would be convinced I was unloved if I had to wait for my DH to have dinner ready when I get home!
On a bright note, Sam's had mutant-large oranges, and they are delicious! I am at least eating a little fruit.....
On another bright note, I have somehow managed to run twice in the last 3 days, and 3 times in the last 7 days - I might make it to week 4 before the end of next week! There could be a 5K in my future before pentecost!
Monday, March 5, 2012
Current Lamentation
I just want my life back.
You know, the one before December 30th.
Before I had to care for a family that had just lost their sweet baby at term, before delivery.
Before my immune system decided to revolt. I got THE CRUD on January 1st, and was battling it pretty intensely when....
Before dad had his stroke.
Before dad died.
Before every week included someone in my house with a fever, vomit, and / or diarrhea.
I want my ordinary complaints back:
I want to be able to complain that I have too much housework, or laundry, or cooking, or knitting or gardening to do. That I eat out too often. None of those complaints matter any more.
I want my immune system back. The one that gave me allergies, and didn't let me get sick.
I believe this lamentation will be short term.... the crisis has passed. My patient's baby died, dad had a stroke lived for a little more than two weeks and then he died. The funeral happened. The burial happened. Now I am working on getting back to the ordinary life of the living. I get up, I get Mark's breakfast, see Mark off to work, I get a shower, I get dressed, I get Paul up, get him dressed, we eat breakfast, I take him to school. Some mornings I go to mass, some mornings I run errands, some mornings I come home and figure out what to do with myself. I get together with mom. I help mom with the business of living after someone you love dies.... we have been to the bank, the VA, the board of elections.... we think about dad, we talk about dad, we miss dad. We think about dinner. I go grocery shopping, I pick Paul up from school, we do homework, we read, I fix dinner. We eat together.
Somehow I keep moving, but I really don't want to move.
In the midst of all of this, somehow, I managed to get THE CRUD again. The one that causes the sinuses to swell and then breathing and swallowing are impaired and then coughing up green chunks of goo commences. It's a minor irritation in the grand scheme of things, but it feels like the cherry on top of everything else.
Can someone please help me reset the clock? I have lost my hold on what day it really is and how time works. There are moments when I hear a particular song, smell a certain food, complete some small task, that I just ache for my dad to be here with me. And I know he IS here in spirit, but I miss him in person. And was it yesterday we were opening Christmas presents? I just got to use the present mom and dad gave me for the first time at the end of February..... strange to wait nearly 2 months! to wear new scrubs, but I was not at work.
Time is such a mush right now. Before the stroke is a blur, a distant memory. The phone call that awoke me to dad's stroke is just below the surface, and then the days of constant vigilance at the hospital are all blended together, like a miniature movie that plays on loop over and over... And then it ends. And the projectionist turns off the movie and we leave the theater to a reality that has totally changed.
I am essentially the same person, but I am fundamentally changed.
I know that grief will pass. That it will somehow become comfortable, like my favorite pair of slippers and I won't notice it as much. It won't envelope me. Today, it is everywhere I want to be and I don't want to share my space with it. Oh well. It just is.
If I can get past THE CRUD, I will go running. Maybe on Wednesday.... Definatley not today.
I am up to week 3 of the 8 week Couch to 5K program.... Dad would be happy for me. I was thinking about asking him to join me, but I remembered that he HATED running, even though he had to run for 20 years in the military.
Really, if I could figure out how to reset the clock to December 29th, I would. I would not have said yes to working on December 30th. I might not have had THE CRUD on January 1. I don't know if it would have changed one iota of what happened next, and certianly, I have no regrets about how we cared for dad or kept vigil with him.
What now, I suppose it all gets recycled into prayer.... I give it back to God and HE graces me with what I need for this day. Which is.... a renewed sense of humor, a little more energy, to get over THE CRUD once again, a prayer for peace for my family and for our world.
You know, the one before December 30th.
Before I had to care for a family that had just lost their sweet baby at term, before delivery.
Before my immune system decided to revolt. I got THE CRUD on January 1st, and was battling it pretty intensely when....
Before dad had his stroke.
Before dad died.
Before every week included someone in my house with a fever, vomit, and / or diarrhea.
I want my ordinary complaints back:
I want to be able to complain that I have too much housework, or laundry, or cooking, or knitting or gardening to do. That I eat out too often. None of those complaints matter any more.
I want my immune system back. The one that gave me allergies, and didn't let me get sick.
I believe this lamentation will be short term.... the crisis has passed. My patient's baby died, dad had a stroke lived for a little more than two weeks and then he died. The funeral happened. The burial happened. Now I am working on getting back to the ordinary life of the living. I get up, I get Mark's breakfast, see Mark off to work, I get a shower, I get dressed, I get Paul up, get him dressed, we eat breakfast, I take him to school. Some mornings I go to mass, some mornings I run errands, some mornings I come home and figure out what to do with myself. I get together with mom. I help mom with the business of living after someone you love dies.... we have been to the bank, the VA, the board of elections.... we think about dad, we talk about dad, we miss dad. We think about dinner. I go grocery shopping, I pick Paul up from school, we do homework, we read, I fix dinner. We eat together.
Somehow I keep moving, but I really don't want to move.
In the midst of all of this, somehow, I managed to get THE CRUD again. The one that causes the sinuses to swell and then breathing and swallowing are impaired and then coughing up green chunks of goo commences. It's a minor irritation in the grand scheme of things, but it feels like the cherry on top of everything else.
Can someone please help me reset the clock? I have lost my hold on what day it really is and how time works. There are moments when I hear a particular song, smell a certain food, complete some small task, that I just ache for my dad to be here with me. And I know he IS here in spirit, but I miss him in person. And was it yesterday we were opening Christmas presents? I just got to use the present mom and dad gave me for the first time at the end of February..... strange to wait nearly 2 months! to wear new scrubs, but I was not at work.
Time is such a mush right now. Before the stroke is a blur, a distant memory. The phone call that awoke me to dad's stroke is just below the surface, and then the days of constant vigilance at the hospital are all blended together, like a miniature movie that plays on loop over and over... And then it ends. And the projectionist turns off the movie and we leave the theater to a reality that has totally changed.
I am essentially the same person, but I am fundamentally changed.
I know that grief will pass. That it will somehow become comfortable, like my favorite pair of slippers and I won't notice it as much. It won't envelope me. Today, it is everywhere I want to be and I don't want to share my space with it. Oh well. It just is.
If I can get past THE CRUD, I will go running. Maybe on Wednesday.... Definatley not today.
I am up to week 3 of the 8 week Couch to 5K program.... Dad would be happy for me. I was thinking about asking him to join me, but I remembered that he HATED running, even though he had to run for 20 years in the military.
Really, if I could figure out how to reset the clock to December 29th, I would. I would not have said yes to working on December 30th. I might not have had THE CRUD on January 1. I don't know if it would have changed one iota of what happened next, and certianly, I have no regrets about how we cared for dad or kept vigil with him.
What now, I suppose it all gets recycled into prayer.... I give it back to God and HE graces me with what I need for this day. Which is.... a renewed sense of humor, a little more energy, to get over THE CRUD once again, a prayer for peace for my family and for our world.
Friday, March 2, 2012
The Good, the Bad and the questionable....
It is hard to believe that it has been almost a month since dad's funeral. In this first two months of the year gone by, we have all had the crud, dad had a stroke and died, Paul has been plagued by stomach virus and Mark and I are once again battling sinus crud.... We just get over one hurdle and another one appears. I suppose that is part of life, isn't it? We run the race, we jump the hurdles.... sometimes the hurdles get us, sometimes we clear the hurdles. Eventually, the race is won and we will claim our reward.
The Good - a couple of things:
1. Eating dinner at home every night (or more nights than eating out!) has led to a major reduction in PMS symptoms for me. I never would have believed it before.... now, I know. So, for all of you out there thinking that you need a change - try cooking at home and see if it doesn't make a difference.... I still have the "happy pills" and may take one if my internal grouchy meter starts to go off the scale again. So far it has not.
2. Paul has started Martial Arts / Self Defense... in two short lessons, his coordination is starting to improve... slowly but surely. But the bigger change is school - today, he was THE FIRST ONE to finish his daily work.... that has NEVER happened before! Everyone was shocked! Hoping that this is related to the class, and that we will continue to see these positive changes.
3. Paul was "happy green" all week!
Now if we could just stop fussing at each other, we'd all be alot happier....
4. I DID manage to run twice this week(M-F) - so in seven days I have run three times - onto week 3 of the Couch to 5K running program. I hope I make it past week 3, I seem to have been stuck there for the better part of last year.
The Bad...
Mark is battling the sinus crud, and I think he has shared it with me. Bummer
The questionable...
1. When we were at the hospital with dad, one of our neighbors was an older couple. One of the reasons given to the patient to recover was in order to reclaim her job as 'official toenail cutter'. We all laughed. Who would want to recover in order to be able to cut someone else's toenails?
But I learned this week to miss dad in another way. He was the one who cut mom's toenails.
2. I also learned that I don't miss dad when I am doing yard work. Not that I don't miss him, but I don't miss the energy that I used to spend being aggrevated that he wasn't out helping me as much as I thought he should. I was able to get out and do a major job for mom and not be angry at having to do it by myself. Dad hated gardening and yard work. He had allergies to grass, so from an early age, he excused himself from anything yard work related (read: he got someone else to do it, usually a girl - his sister, his wife, his daughters!) In the last five years, I was willing to help him with some of the yard work - major tasks like putting out compost or mulch, planting flower beds, picking up sticks - but I was not willing to do it all alone. Sometimes he would help, sometimes he would start to help and then run into the computer, or he would stop on the pretense of making us lunch, getting us drinks, or getting a snack. It was an interesting epiphany.... in some ways, not having dad right here is a bit of a relief. Or at least, not holding him accountable to something he didn't want to do is no longer part of my job description! Hooray!
3. The other questionable thing is that I have had conversation with two of my uncles. Both admit regrets in how their relationship was working (or not working) with my dad. Both were not talking to dad in the days leading up to his stroke. Both called and worked at making peace with dad before he died, but when the one you are talking to cannot talk back, you have to wonder how effective your peace proposals really are.... We believe dad forgave his brothers because we could see his face, we could see him weeping and we wiped his tears.
Now, these same brothers are telling me that they don't talk to each other. What am I to do? They cannot change the relationship they had with dad, he's dead. They CAN change the relationship they have with each other, now. I would hate it if any one of my remaining uncles died and I had to witness the same heartache again. Please guys, if you are reading this, do something about it. A little forgiveness goes a long way. A little patience can make a big difference.
Meanwhile, I am praying and asking the intercession of my dad, St Eugene, St Barnabas and St Paul on behalf of my uncles for there to be peace among them. I hope that something good comes about from my father's death - and that good would be a building of friendship, or at least peace, perhaps tolerance among my uncles. Join me in prayer - together, we can storm the gates of heaven!
Dinner tonight?
Smoked salmon cakes
Steamed fresh asparagus
Sweet potato pancakes
If you need to know how to do it, drop me a line and I will fill you in.
All the best,
and Happy Lent,
Sara
The Good - a couple of things:
1. Eating dinner at home every night (or more nights than eating out!) has led to a major reduction in PMS symptoms for me. I never would have believed it before.... now, I know. So, for all of you out there thinking that you need a change - try cooking at home and see if it doesn't make a difference.... I still have the "happy pills" and may take one if my internal grouchy meter starts to go off the scale again. So far it has not.
2. Paul has started Martial Arts / Self Defense... in two short lessons, his coordination is starting to improve... slowly but surely. But the bigger change is school - today, he was THE FIRST ONE to finish his daily work.... that has NEVER happened before! Everyone was shocked! Hoping that this is related to the class, and that we will continue to see these positive changes.
3. Paul was "happy green" all week!
Now if we could just stop fussing at each other, we'd all be alot happier....
4. I DID manage to run twice this week(M-F) - so in seven days I have run three times - onto week 3 of the Couch to 5K running program. I hope I make it past week 3, I seem to have been stuck there for the better part of last year.
The Bad...
Mark is battling the sinus crud, and I think he has shared it with me. Bummer
The questionable...
1. When we were at the hospital with dad, one of our neighbors was an older couple. One of the reasons given to the patient to recover was in order to reclaim her job as 'official toenail cutter'. We all laughed. Who would want to recover in order to be able to cut someone else's toenails?
But I learned this week to miss dad in another way. He was the one who cut mom's toenails.
2. I also learned that I don't miss dad when I am doing yard work. Not that I don't miss him, but I don't miss the energy that I used to spend being aggrevated that he wasn't out helping me as much as I thought he should. I was able to get out and do a major job for mom and not be angry at having to do it by myself. Dad hated gardening and yard work. He had allergies to grass, so from an early age, he excused himself from anything yard work related (read: he got someone else to do it, usually a girl - his sister, his wife, his daughters!) In the last five years, I was willing to help him with some of the yard work - major tasks like putting out compost or mulch, planting flower beds, picking up sticks - but I was not willing to do it all alone. Sometimes he would help, sometimes he would start to help and then run into the computer, or he would stop on the pretense of making us lunch, getting us drinks, or getting a snack. It was an interesting epiphany.... in some ways, not having dad right here is a bit of a relief. Or at least, not holding him accountable to something he didn't want to do is no longer part of my job description! Hooray!
3. The other questionable thing is that I have had conversation with two of my uncles. Both admit regrets in how their relationship was working (or not working) with my dad. Both were not talking to dad in the days leading up to his stroke. Both called and worked at making peace with dad before he died, but when the one you are talking to cannot talk back, you have to wonder how effective your peace proposals really are.... We believe dad forgave his brothers because we could see his face, we could see him weeping and we wiped his tears.
Now, these same brothers are telling me that they don't talk to each other. What am I to do? They cannot change the relationship they had with dad, he's dead. They CAN change the relationship they have with each other, now. I would hate it if any one of my remaining uncles died and I had to witness the same heartache again. Please guys, if you are reading this, do something about it. A little forgiveness goes a long way. A little patience can make a big difference.
Meanwhile, I am praying and asking the intercession of my dad, St Eugene, St Barnabas and St Paul on behalf of my uncles for there to be peace among them. I hope that something good comes about from my father's death - and that good would be a building of friendship, or at least peace, perhaps tolerance among my uncles. Join me in prayer - together, we can storm the gates of heaven!
Dinner tonight?
Smoked salmon cakes
Steamed fresh asparagus
Sweet potato pancakes
If you need to know how to do it, drop me a line and I will fill you in.
All the best,
and Happy Lent,
Sara
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