So when I wrote Part I of this (November 2012) I was at the point of making a choice. And I did make a choice: to do nothing.
I have very successfully done nothing for all this time. Sure, I went to mass every Sunday (I still do) and I made it to daily mass many days/week and to adoration on Fridays.... But I was going through motions. I was praying, but not giving my heart to God.... I was talking, but not listening for very nearly a year.
As I did nothing, life swirled around me. And I began to no longer see myself as the protagonist in my own life story. Life was acting on me, I wasn't really acting in my life. And I was working hard to ignore the people around me who were calling me to accountability with myself.
And then it happened. I was called to task for being late. Not just once, but many times. Perhaps since November of 2012? Then, I identified that I was no longer swimming in deep spiritual water, and was kindly told that I was no longer in the swimming pool, I was standing on the deck, pondering the grill. Mostly, I laughed. But as I shared the story, the sting of reality began to get to me... And analysis of the situation began to become clear, not to me, but to another truth teller in my life.
Long and short of it... I need to pay attention to the blessings in my life and work on being grateful for what I have. I've spent too much time and energy complaining about what I am missing/lacking.
I've used so much time and energy complaining, I've become accustomed to complaining. Sometimes, the complaints are disguised as story telling, it can be quite amusing. And it HAS been amusing, otherwise I wouldn't do it. I have a basic understanding of why writers and comedians do what they do. It is satisfying to tell a story and get a response, any response. Perhaps that is why I write here... in the hopes of getting a response. Of course, I only have one follower......
As I have become more blind & deaf to hear the good things happening around me, prayer has become a burden. I've prayed, but it was words, I am sure it was not a two way conversation.... I told God what I wanted and I waited, but I didn't listen.
So what has changed? I've started a "gratitude journal". It's a short, one line a day of what I am thankful for. So far I have started it with, Today, I am thankful for......
And I have worked to listen at prayer... leading to tears, remorse and understanding. I am working on being patient with myself. I am working on listening to God. I am working on humbling myself and listening. I am working on loving the creation that God has given me in the being of myself.
The grace I have been given? The burden of prayer has been lifted once again.... I wake up, ready to pray the rosary. I may not pray it immediately, but it is happening (without the ipod / podcast) within the first few hours of the day. I am not complaining about having to take care of my family, my house, my dog.... I am beginning to recognize being needed as a grace. And that working for my family is a grace that I have been given. Is my house cleaner? Perhaps a little bit, maybe recognizable to others... Is the clutter gone? The mental clutter is being packed up, the physical clutter cannot be far behind.
The grace I have been given? Recalling St Francis exhortation to prayer.... Pray first thing in the morning and last thing at night. It is as if you are opening the blinds to let the sunshine in first thing in the morning, and closing the blinds tightly at night to keep out the darkness. And I am ready / willing to pray again...
The grace I have been given? Yesterday evening I wanted to go to mass and nearly didn't go because of activity at home.... then I realized I could get us to mass, or I could complain about not going (and be grumpy). I mobilized the activity at home and we MADE IT to mass.... and what I heard convicted me once again... the gospel reading talked about how the servant who knows the master's command and refuses will be beaten, while the servant who knows the masters command and follows may be beaten, but not as severely. Where have I been? Firmly in the not following directions camp.
So, even though I might be struggling with the idea of a gratitude journal as a crazy, way too simple idea, I am beginning to see the fruits of gratitude...
More to come later, I am sure.
Meanwhile, many thanks for your truth telling and patience.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Rejoice with Me
Last Friday and Saturday, I was blessed to be able to attend the Eucharistic Congress in Charlotte, NC. For more info, see here: http://www.goeucharist.com/
My DS attended the congress on Saturday, and was able to take in the children's track. Between the children's track and the AMAZING mass on Saturday evening, we were able to go shopping. Every year we seem to buy one more Rosary. How many is too many any way? The one he wanted was an beautiful gold filigree bead rosary from Italy. The one he got was a beautiful yellow light catching beaded rosary from Italy. One was $60, the one he got was considerably less.
But I lose sight of why I am rejoicing (not the saving money).....
So, now that he has a rosary that he likes, he asked if we could pray the rosary together every day on the way to school! On Monday, we made it through the beginning and the first two decades of joyful mysteries together. Tuesday, we forgot until we were lined up in the carpool line to jump out of the car (too late) . Today, we picked up where we left off (on joyful mysteries) and prayed the third decade together.
It just makes my heart smile.
I am going to enjoy this while I can, since going to Sunday school and mass are still a weekly point of struggle. We go, he struggles. Apparently, there are graces coming through that are greater than I can see or hear or sense on my own!
My DS attended the congress on Saturday, and was able to take in the children's track. Between the children's track and the AMAZING mass on Saturday evening, we were able to go shopping. Every year we seem to buy one more Rosary. How many is too many any way? The one he wanted was an beautiful gold filigree bead rosary from Italy. The one he got was a beautiful yellow light catching beaded rosary from Italy. One was $60, the one he got was considerably less.
But I lose sight of why I am rejoicing (not the saving money).....
So, now that he has a rosary that he likes, he asked if we could pray the rosary together every day on the way to school! On Monday, we made it through the beginning and the first two decades of joyful mysteries together. Tuesday, we forgot until we were lined up in the carpool line to jump out of the car (too late) . Today, we picked up where we left off (on joyful mysteries) and prayed the third decade together.
It just makes my heart smile.
I am going to enjoy this while I can, since going to Sunday school and mass are still a weekly point of struggle. We go, he struggles. Apparently, there are graces coming through that are greater than I can see or hear or sense on my own!
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Learning to Unlearn Crazy Making
I have learned something humbling and horrible today.
I have become my mother.
Not that my mother is a bad person, or a bad influence or anything really terrible, it's just that there are qualities of hers that I had hoped to avoid in the great passage of genes and traits from mom to daughter.
The one big trait.... I complain. I complain a lot. I have a tendency to be negative. Expect the worst, anticipate disaster, plan for chaos. And if it doesn't happen, I thrive on the analysis of What if?
The worst part of this is that this impacts my relationships with my family, both my siblings and my offspring.
It's way to easy to fall into the pattern of "I just need to vent to someone about this issue with a safe person" so, I vent (read: complain) about my DS to my mother (who thrives on drama / negative events) and then she takes my venting as a sign that things are NOT WELL with my DS and my relationship. They aren't perfect, but we are daily working on it! My mother in turn tells at least one of my sisters about the issue with the DS and I might also talk to the same sister on some other occasion and vent about some other issue with the DS and then the next thing you know, we end up here..... where at least two of my dear sisters have come to the conclusion that my DS is on the road to ruin, and I am driving him there myself. They only EVER get the negative image because I don't spend enough time communicating the positive.
This is going to require a big change in my life.
I don't know how I will do it.
Actually, I do know how... though constant prayer and vigilance. And by asking the Holy Spirit to pour out the grace of matrimony on me that has been sitting unrequested for the last 11 years.
So if I can't say anything nice, or if I can't say what I need to say nicely, then I am going to try to figure out how to either be silent, or fix my tone of voice and/or word choice.
Pray for me. These habits have been a LONG TIME in formation - and new habits and ways will have to form in their place....
Thanks in advance for your prayers and well wishes.
I have become my mother.
Not that my mother is a bad person, or a bad influence or anything really terrible, it's just that there are qualities of hers that I had hoped to avoid in the great passage of genes and traits from mom to daughter.
The one big trait.... I complain. I complain a lot. I have a tendency to be negative. Expect the worst, anticipate disaster, plan for chaos. And if it doesn't happen, I thrive on the analysis of What if?
The worst part of this is that this impacts my relationships with my family, both my siblings and my offspring.
It's way to easy to fall into the pattern of "I just need to vent to someone about this issue with a safe person" so, I vent (read: complain) about my DS to my mother (who thrives on drama / negative events) and then she takes my venting as a sign that things are NOT WELL with my DS and my relationship. They aren't perfect, but we are daily working on it! My mother in turn tells at least one of my sisters about the issue with the DS and I might also talk to the same sister on some other occasion and vent about some other issue with the DS and then the next thing you know, we end up here..... where at least two of my dear sisters have come to the conclusion that my DS is on the road to ruin, and I am driving him there myself. They only EVER get the negative image because I don't spend enough time communicating the positive.
This is going to require a big change in my life.
I don't know how I will do it.
Actually, I do know how... though constant prayer and vigilance. And by asking the Holy Spirit to pour out the grace of matrimony on me that has been sitting unrequested for the last 11 years.
So if I can't say anything nice, or if I can't say what I need to say nicely, then I am going to try to figure out how to either be silent, or fix my tone of voice and/or word choice.
Pray for me. These habits have been a LONG TIME in formation - and new habits and ways will have to form in their place....
Thanks in advance for your prayers and well wishes.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Me, only better
I have been having a debate with a dear friend of mine over time studies. Personal time studies.
Last spring (or maybe even last fall, I don't recall exactly when) I was charged (by Fr B.) to do a personal time study to figure out where my time was going. I was flummoxed by the process.
Really, the process is simple. Carry around a small notebook and pen/pencil and whenever a task changes, write down the time. Record what ACTUALLY happens. I attempted it, but rather than being a useful thing, I did it in quasi 20 minute intervals and I used my smartphone post-it note app to do the recording. There was way too much wiggle room and the recording was shoddy at best. I didn't learn much from the process. Other than I was frustrated by it, and I wasn't motivated to change anything.
Then I talked to Sandra.
She challenged me to do the same thing, only this time, carry around a paper and pen, and record it AS IT HAPPENS, not on an interval basis. And I told her of my earlier experience and lack of insight from it and she clued me in..... I was living with wasted time and I wasn't really doing anything about it. And that wasted time might in fact be what was draining me of the time I needed to get things done. By being un-conscious of how I was using my time, I was in fact being wasteful of its value..... By putting something off because it would take too much time, for example, I was spending time NOT doing what needed to be done and could (perhaps) be done rather quickly. I think this is probably a procrastinators' way of life, but that is another story for another day.
So, I picked up a notebook and started recording. Mind you, I haven't done the analysis yet. And Sandra challenged me to 1 day (24 hours). But after one day, I felt like the day I recorded wasn't 'typical' enough, so I recorded a second day. What I learned is that Sandra was right (and Fr B. was as well.... although Sandra is much more blunt.) There is time disappearing into the ethos that I hacven't been able to account for - when I get sucked into my computer, or my smart phone. Part of why the first attempt was unsuccessful was because it was being recorded electronically..... I need the physical demands of an actual object in my hand in order to become more time aware.
I also found that doing my own time study invoked the Hawthorne Effect. This effect is known to researchers who study human behavior - if the subject is aware of the study, he/she behaves differently. By becoming aware of having to record the activity, I had to choose if I wanted to DO the activity. I became accountable to myself. I chose to do the things I needed to do, not always the things I wanted to do. I chose to not engage in the electronic, mind numbing, quasi-addictive facebook checking at the point when I needed to be taking a shower and getting dressed and leaving the house on time. Sandra claims I cheated.
I claim insight and perhaps a small victory. The 48 hour time study changed my behavior for about one week. One week of less compulsive FB checking. One week of living in the present place and time, not the electronic one that so often sucks me in and consumes my freedom and my free time. The one that leaves me with a messy house because I didn't get up and MOVE away from the computer to get things done.
The other thing that happened was Fr B's admonition to not pick up the telephone, turn on the TV or do anything until after spending time in prayer, with the rosary. I have been generally successful for a week and a half. Today, I faltered, but I will pray during adoration at mid-day. I think it will be OK.
Is everything improved? No, but the problems are becoming more clearly identified, and thus easier to address.
The question becomes, what if everything is as it should be? It probably is. However, I know that if we are not evoloving and changing and learning from our current situations, we are not fully alive. So I refuse to remain stuck where I am.
Thanks Sandra and Fr B. for the patience and the insight. I am off to spend a day doing what needs to be done without fretting about it, without putting it off......
Last spring (or maybe even last fall, I don't recall exactly when) I was charged (by Fr B.) to do a personal time study to figure out where my time was going. I was flummoxed by the process.
Really, the process is simple. Carry around a small notebook and pen/pencil and whenever a task changes, write down the time. Record what ACTUALLY happens. I attempted it, but rather than being a useful thing, I did it in quasi 20 minute intervals and I used my smartphone post-it note app to do the recording. There was way too much wiggle room and the recording was shoddy at best. I didn't learn much from the process. Other than I was frustrated by it, and I wasn't motivated to change anything.
Then I talked to Sandra.
She challenged me to do the same thing, only this time, carry around a paper and pen, and record it AS IT HAPPENS, not on an interval basis. And I told her of my earlier experience and lack of insight from it and she clued me in..... I was living with wasted time and I wasn't really doing anything about it. And that wasted time might in fact be what was draining me of the time I needed to get things done. By being un-conscious of how I was using my time, I was in fact being wasteful of its value..... By putting something off because it would take too much time, for example, I was spending time NOT doing what needed to be done and could (perhaps) be done rather quickly. I think this is probably a procrastinators' way of life, but that is another story for another day.
So, I picked up a notebook and started recording. Mind you, I haven't done the analysis yet. And Sandra challenged me to 1 day (24 hours). But after one day, I felt like the day I recorded wasn't 'typical' enough, so I recorded a second day. What I learned is that Sandra was right (and Fr B. was as well.... although Sandra is much more blunt.) There is time disappearing into the ethos that I hacven't been able to account for - when I get sucked into my computer, or my smart phone. Part of why the first attempt was unsuccessful was because it was being recorded electronically..... I need the physical demands of an actual object in my hand in order to become more time aware.
I also found that doing my own time study invoked the Hawthorne Effect. This effect is known to researchers who study human behavior - if the subject is aware of the study, he/she behaves differently. By becoming aware of having to record the activity, I had to choose if I wanted to DO the activity. I became accountable to myself. I chose to do the things I needed to do, not always the things I wanted to do. I chose to not engage in the electronic, mind numbing, quasi-addictive facebook checking at the point when I needed to be taking a shower and getting dressed and leaving the house on time. Sandra claims I cheated.
I claim insight and perhaps a small victory. The 48 hour time study changed my behavior for about one week. One week of less compulsive FB checking. One week of living in the present place and time, not the electronic one that so often sucks me in and consumes my freedom and my free time. The one that leaves me with a messy house because I didn't get up and MOVE away from the computer to get things done.
The other thing that happened was Fr B's admonition to not pick up the telephone, turn on the TV or do anything until after spending time in prayer, with the rosary. I have been generally successful for a week and a half. Today, I faltered, but I will pray during adoration at mid-day. I think it will be OK.
Is everything improved? No, but the problems are becoming more clearly identified, and thus easier to address.
The question becomes, what if everything is as it should be? It probably is. However, I know that if we are not evoloving and changing and learning from our current situations, we are not fully alive. So I refuse to remain stuck where I am.
Thanks Sandra and Fr B. for the patience and the insight. I am off to spend a day doing what needs to be done without fretting about it, without putting it off......
Thursday, November 29, 2012
A Choice not an Assignment
First some background, over the last few months I have been struggling with tasks that are in my daily life. Some of the tasks are the mundane, ordinary stuff of life - doing laundry, washing dishes, cooking, exercise.
One task of particular struggle and self-wrestling has been prayer.
It is odd, really. I have never particularly thought I was "good" at prayer. I pray. It just is. I go to mass as often as I can and rejoice at times when I can get to daily mass on a daily basis. One of the reasons I love that Paul goes to school is that I can then get to daily mass right after I drop him off (assuming we are ON TIME / early to drop off). So far, for kindergarten and first grade, this has been true. I have been a fan of daily mass since I was 12. When I was 12, we lived within walking distance of the base chapel and there was a daily mass. Monday through Friday, I would go to the library to volunteer in the morning and then get off from that and walk to the chapel for mass before going home for lunch. It was cool. I was the only non-adult in the chapel.
I have had a devotion to the rosary even farther back than that. I started praying the rosary probably about the time of first communion. I remember they taught us the rosary during second grade, and there was a beautiful little statue of the BVM that was shared in the class - everyone got to take it home for a week.... except for me - I got it for two weeks because I "forgot" to bring it back. Oops.... and I wasn't even holding the BVM hostage for some great grace! When I was in my late 20's, I was praying the rosary on a regular basis when I was travelling - something comforting about holding Mary's hand when you take off in an airplane..... And I had a dear friend who was becoming a priest who asked me to pray for him, and then I was praying the rosary and one thing and another and I started praying the rosary intentionally for priests. One priest for each Hail Mary. I started a list. It turns out I knew many priests. More priests than I thought I knew. "The list" has the priests I've known, some I've known of, some I have been asked to pray for. Some priests I don't pray for by name - if I didn't get the name when I went someplace, then the place becomes the intention - ie For That Priest we met when we went to Pittsburgh....
The desire to pray the rosary has ebbed and flowed. I guess that is also part of life. And occasionally, the rosary has become a gift that I give - for example when Fr John Wall celebrated his 50th anniversary of ordination, I prayed the rosary specifically for him, for 50 days.
The thing is, I just prayed. No one told me to do it. I just did it. Well, I take that back.... the summer before my sister Mary was born, my family prayed the rosary together every night after dinner. Monday through Friday ... I don't recall weekends, but we probably did... And there was no grumbling allowed. We ALL prayed it. Together. That's how I learned the Memorare and the Hail Holy Queen..... So perhaps my parents made me do it. But then that summer was over, Mary was born, my mom's job changed, my dads' job changed and we never got back to it. But I had been hooked - I carried a rosary around with me pretty frequently. I thought about praying it. I did pray it on occasion on the way to mass, or before mass started if we somehow managed to get there early. I went to college with a devotion to the BVM.... when a rosary group started, I was there more often than not....
Back to the late 20's/early 30's.... I promised myself that I would try to pray the rosary every day. I would make an earnest effort. And generally, I am not sure how well I did, but I know that I still have the list, I still pray for priests. I pray the rosary more often than I don't. I think.
And then dad died.
I did pray the rosary through his hospitalization and death and burial. I prayed it at his bedside. I prayed it with my sisters.
And then he was gone.
And grief has done strange things to me. I suppose it is a normal experience to realize that everything has changed. And yet, nothing is different.
Going to mass became a grace filled moment, but all the energy in me drained out of my toes and I just felt tired. Was I resting in God's presence? I can only hope so. Reading daily mass readings - out the window. Praying the rosary - meh. Praying anything with any frequency - not really.
Enter Fr B. who asked me what I would do, and I responded that I didn't know.... and so he charged me with praying the rosary. Daily. period. And to report back to him how I did (he kept me accountable to myself and to him as my spiritual director).
OK.
So I did. Mostly. But I worked it into my life. It wasn't a priority, it was a TO DO. It was an assignment. Some days better than others - I particularly liked running and praying the rosary at the same time.... I felt like dad was with me - along with all the angels and saints, cheering me on.
And after seven months, I am still more successful than not, but struggling with HOW I am praying it. I have shifted from praying it quietly by myself to listening to a pod-cast and praying along. Sometimes I remember priests on each Hail Mary, sometimes I just listen to the pod cast. And I have lost the desire to pray it. Sort of. Those words seem harsh. But I have lost something.....
And so I was charged to pray the first decade by myself before turning on the podcast or doing anything. But that was harder - because I couldn't bring myself to not be up and about, I just chose NOT to do it.
And then this week, I was charged not only with praying it daily, but with praying it FIRST. Before the rest of the day begins. And praying it without distraction. Don't move. Don't cook breakfast / wash dishes or do anything else. For one week.
Really?
Really.
And I am, but in my own way... still using the pod cast, still getting up and making breakfast and washing dishes and packing lunch.
And I am kicking and screaming (mentally) all the way.
Then it hit me this morning.... I thought back to Fr John Wall and the days of campus ministry.... He once advised me to not do anything unless I wanted to do it AND I was doing it because I loved God. Just stop. Period. Once I "quit" campus ministry (it lasted about 24hrs) I was able to shift from feeling like I had been assigned to do something to feeling like I had chosen to do it. And I did more.
I want to write that I am going to quit praying the rosary, but I cannot in good consciene bring myself to say those words and mean it. But mentally, that is what I am doing. I am going to quit because it has been assigned to me and I am refusing the assignment. And then I am going to think about it, pray about it and make the choice. To pray. With a better attitude.
What have I learned out of all of this kicking and screaming?
1. God is patient.
2. He doesn't want us to come kicking and screaming. He wants us to freely choose to follow Him. He will wait for us to get our heads and hearts in order.
3. My house is much like my prayer life. I think I already knew this.... when my prayer life / interior life is in order, the rest of my life seems to follow suit. But here is the crux of the whole issue - is what I am doing a CHOICE or an ASSIGNMENT? Am I choosing to do what needs to be done because I know it is what needs to be done and I do it out of love, or am I feeling like it is an assignment and I am balking at it (ie "You - go clean your room/clear the table/do laundry/do whatever needs to be done) and I do it but unwillingly.
4. Fr B. is giving me the assignment out of love, knowing already that if I get my interior life in order, my exterior will follow suit...
So I am off to continue the struggle. I suppose that is the other part of this equation - if we are no longer struggling, we are no longer alive.
And lest you think I am only complaining and not seeing any good come of this - one of the things that Fr B. required of me to put down during the rosary was my smart phone. One of the BEST directions I could have been given. Truly, listening to / praying along with a pod-cast and checking email/FB at the same time is NOT productive in any stretch of the imagination.
Now to pray the rosary FIRST. Before moving, before doing anything else. Can I? Will I? I'll report back later.
P.S. Many thanks go to Sandra G. for helping me hash all of this out. Your insight and friendship is an incredible gift and I am so thankful that we are friends.
Thanks also to Fr B. for being patient.
One task of particular struggle and self-wrestling has been prayer.
It is odd, really. I have never particularly thought I was "good" at prayer. I pray. It just is. I go to mass as often as I can and rejoice at times when I can get to daily mass on a daily basis. One of the reasons I love that Paul goes to school is that I can then get to daily mass right after I drop him off (assuming we are ON TIME / early to drop off). So far, for kindergarten and first grade, this has been true. I have been a fan of daily mass since I was 12. When I was 12, we lived within walking distance of the base chapel and there was a daily mass. Monday through Friday, I would go to the library to volunteer in the morning and then get off from that and walk to the chapel for mass before going home for lunch. It was cool. I was the only non-adult in the chapel.
I have had a devotion to the rosary even farther back than that. I started praying the rosary probably about the time of first communion. I remember they taught us the rosary during second grade, and there was a beautiful little statue of the BVM that was shared in the class - everyone got to take it home for a week.... except for me - I got it for two weeks because I "forgot" to bring it back. Oops.... and I wasn't even holding the BVM hostage for some great grace! When I was in my late 20's, I was praying the rosary on a regular basis when I was travelling - something comforting about holding Mary's hand when you take off in an airplane..... And I had a dear friend who was becoming a priest who asked me to pray for him, and then I was praying the rosary and one thing and another and I started praying the rosary intentionally for priests. One priest for each Hail Mary. I started a list. It turns out I knew many priests. More priests than I thought I knew. "The list" has the priests I've known, some I've known of, some I have been asked to pray for. Some priests I don't pray for by name - if I didn't get the name when I went someplace, then the place becomes the intention - ie For That Priest we met when we went to Pittsburgh....
The desire to pray the rosary has ebbed and flowed. I guess that is also part of life. And occasionally, the rosary has become a gift that I give - for example when Fr John Wall celebrated his 50th anniversary of ordination, I prayed the rosary specifically for him, for 50 days.
The thing is, I just prayed. No one told me to do it. I just did it. Well, I take that back.... the summer before my sister Mary was born, my family prayed the rosary together every night after dinner. Monday through Friday ... I don't recall weekends, but we probably did... And there was no grumbling allowed. We ALL prayed it. Together. That's how I learned the Memorare and the Hail Holy Queen..... So perhaps my parents made me do it. But then that summer was over, Mary was born, my mom's job changed, my dads' job changed and we never got back to it. But I had been hooked - I carried a rosary around with me pretty frequently. I thought about praying it. I did pray it on occasion on the way to mass, or before mass started if we somehow managed to get there early. I went to college with a devotion to the BVM.... when a rosary group started, I was there more often than not....
Back to the late 20's/early 30's.... I promised myself that I would try to pray the rosary every day. I would make an earnest effort. And generally, I am not sure how well I did, but I know that I still have the list, I still pray for priests. I pray the rosary more often than I don't. I think.
And then dad died.
I did pray the rosary through his hospitalization and death and burial. I prayed it at his bedside. I prayed it with my sisters.
And then he was gone.
And grief has done strange things to me. I suppose it is a normal experience to realize that everything has changed. And yet, nothing is different.
Going to mass became a grace filled moment, but all the energy in me drained out of my toes and I just felt tired. Was I resting in God's presence? I can only hope so. Reading daily mass readings - out the window. Praying the rosary - meh. Praying anything with any frequency - not really.
Enter Fr B. who asked me what I would do, and I responded that I didn't know.... and so he charged me with praying the rosary. Daily. period. And to report back to him how I did (he kept me accountable to myself and to him as my spiritual director).
OK.
So I did. Mostly. But I worked it into my life. It wasn't a priority, it was a TO DO. It was an assignment. Some days better than others - I particularly liked running and praying the rosary at the same time.... I felt like dad was with me - along with all the angels and saints, cheering me on.
And after seven months, I am still more successful than not, but struggling with HOW I am praying it. I have shifted from praying it quietly by myself to listening to a pod-cast and praying along. Sometimes I remember priests on each Hail Mary, sometimes I just listen to the pod cast. And I have lost the desire to pray it. Sort of. Those words seem harsh. But I have lost something.....
And so I was charged to pray the first decade by myself before turning on the podcast or doing anything. But that was harder - because I couldn't bring myself to not be up and about, I just chose NOT to do it.
And then this week, I was charged not only with praying it daily, but with praying it FIRST. Before the rest of the day begins. And praying it without distraction. Don't move. Don't cook breakfast / wash dishes or do anything else. For one week.
Really?
Really.
And I am, but in my own way... still using the pod cast, still getting up and making breakfast and washing dishes and packing lunch.
And I am kicking and screaming (mentally) all the way.
Then it hit me this morning.... I thought back to Fr John Wall and the days of campus ministry.... He once advised me to not do anything unless I wanted to do it AND I was doing it because I loved God. Just stop. Period. Once I "quit" campus ministry (it lasted about 24hrs) I was able to shift from feeling like I had been assigned to do something to feeling like I had chosen to do it. And I did more.
I want to write that I am going to quit praying the rosary, but I cannot in good consciene bring myself to say those words and mean it. But mentally, that is what I am doing. I am going to quit because it has been assigned to me and I am refusing the assignment. And then I am going to think about it, pray about it and make the choice. To pray. With a better attitude.
What have I learned out of all of this kicking and screaming?
1. God is patient.
2. He doesn't want us to come kicking and screaming. He wants us to freely choose to follow Him. He will wait for us to get our heads and hearts in order.
3. My house is much like my prayer life. I think I already knew this.... when my prayer life / interior life is in order, the rest of my life seems to follow suit. But here is the crux of the whole issue - is what I am doing a CHOICE or an ASSIGNMENT? Am I choosing to do what needs to be done because I know it is what needs to be done and I do it out of love, or am I feeling like it is an assignment and I am balking at it (ie "You - go clean your room/clear the table/do laundry/do whatever needs to be done) and I do it but unwillingly.
4. Fr B. is giving me the assignment out of love, knowing already that if I get my interior life in order, my exterior will follow suit...
So I am off to continue the struggle. I suppose that is the other part of this equation - if we are no longer struggling, we are no longer alive.
And lest you think I am only complaining and not seeing any good come of this - one of the things that Fr B. required of me to put down during the rosary was my smart phone. One of the BEST directions I could have been given. Truly, listening to / praying along with a pod-cast and checking email/FB at the same time is NOT productive in any stretch of the imagination.
Now to pray the rosary FIRST. Before moving, before doing anything else. Can I? Will I? I'll report back later.
P.S. Many thanks go to Sandra G. for helping me hash all of this out. Your insight and friendship is an incredible gift and I am so thankful that we are friends.
Thanks also to Fr B. for being patient.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Pondering
I just read a great post about distraction generated by the electronic life we so often lead. I read it here:
http://www.shovedtothem.blogspot.com/
I know the post was about her children expericening instant messages during the school day, but I really related to it. I cannot imagine how I would function if I had a smart phone near me when I was in school. I know, I had a phone when I was in nursing school, but I always had it turned off during class (how TERRIFIED I was of it ringing during a lecture!) But now, my smart phone has practically become a personal appendage! I cringe when I have to leave it in my locker at work. I fret when I leave it at home by accident. And the people who love me, who know I am accessable at any hour, positively freak out if my phone battery dies and I cannot be reached. It is odd, that not so long ago, a phone number was associated with a location, ie home or work, now it is associated with a PERSON, and we wonder at what age a person NEEDS to have a phone at his/her disposal.
Not wanting to confess my electronic addiction online (would that even make any sense?) I will just say that I am pretty sure I am way to connected to my cell phone and if I had any courage at all, I would limit its use. I am lacking that courage. It is way too easy to use my phone for facebook, skype, email and instant messaging. I don't text and drive, although I have been known to check FB at red lights, google traffic conditions while stuck in traffic jams, and talk on the cellphone without a blue-tooth device. I suppose I should get a bluetooth, but then I think I would ALWAYS talk on the phone.
In my defense, I will say that my cell phone has never kept me out of mass.... I had a dear friend who quit going to Sunday mass for a time because he couldn't bear to part with his beloved blackberry for the hour of mass! Aye Carumba!
I do think though that I need to impose usage hours on my smart phone though - I suspect I might get more done and be less distracted doing it! If I succeed, I will be sure to write about it.
S
http://www.shovedtothem.blogspot.com/
I know the post was about her children expericening instant messages during the school day, but I really related to it. I cannot imagine how I would function if I had a smart phone near me when I was in school. I know, I had a phone when I was in nursing school, but I always had it turned off during class (how TERRIFIED I was of it ringing during a lecture!) But now, my smart phone has practically become a personal appendage! I cringe when I have to leave it in my locker at work. I fret when I leave it at home by accident. And the people who love me, who know I am accessable at any hour, positively freak out if my phone battery dies and I cannot be reached. It is odd, that not so long ago, a phone number was associated with a location, ie home or work, now it is associated with a PERSON, and we wonder at what age a person NEEDS to have a phone at his/her disposal.
Not wanting to confess my electronic addiction online (would that even make any sense?) I will just say that I am pretty sure I am way to connected to my cell phone and if I had any courage at all, I would limit its use. I am lacking that courage. It is way too easy to use my phone for facebook, skype, email and instant messaging. I don't text and drive, although I have been known to check FB at red lights, google traffic conditions while stuck in traffic jams, and talk on the cellphone without a blue-tooth device. I suppose I should get a bluetooth, but then I think I would ALWAYS talk on the phone.
In my defense, I will say that my cell phone has never kept me out of mass.... I had a dear friend who quit going to Sunday mass for a time because he couldn't bear to part with his beloved blackberry for the hour of mass! Aye Carumba!
I do think though that I need to impose usage hours on my smart phone though - I suspect I might get more done and be less distracted doing it! If I succeed, I will be sure to write about it.
S
Friday, August 3, 2012
Where did July go?
I really thought I would write more in July, but the month has already gone and I did get my fingers to connect to the key board once!
So where did the month go?
The week of July 4th I was home with Paul. Our babysitter was on vacation and Mark had to work, so I was home. It was a quiet week. We enjoyed the fireworks in Gastonia. We were going to go to a baseball game, but it was ridiculously hot.
On July 7th, Paul and I travelled to NYC to visit the Welsh family and for Paul to attend summer camp with Miriam at the NY Botanical Garden. We were there for 10 days. Paul and Miriam had a great time at the gardens - I enjoyed hanging out with Cyprian during the day with Mary and John in the evenings. It was hot. And the Welsh apartment lacks central air. It was really hot.
Highlights of the trip for me: seeing the Monet exhibit at the NYBG, and taking Paul and Miriam into the city to see the Today Show and the Lego Store and FAO Schwartz. We had a super time together. I was glad to have Kate with me when traveling around with the kids on the train. I would have been fine on my own, but it was nice to have another adult with me who knows her way around, at least a little more than I do.
I have taken Paul contra dancing. Twice. And now, Paul admits that contra dancing is more fun than the Wii or the DS! He asked how many times he would have to dance in order to be an expert like me.....perhaps three more times? I told him it would take probably 50 more dances. I think we will have that within the next two years! We might have to dance on monday nights during the school year - the exercise and social development are so good for him.... if we can just wake up on time on Tuesdays, we will be fine.
Yesterday, Aug 2, Paul and I went to the National Whitewater Center. We had the most fun, ever. We went on a ropes course. It scared the begeebers out of him, poor guy. But we made it through the course. Then we climbed up to a platform to zip. Only we didn't zip. We had to climb back down. Too frightening to the short one. We then went to a less intense zip line, only Paul wouldn't zip. I DID zip, and I began to wonder if I had made a mistake bringing him out for the day. We changed course and went down to the Catawba river and rode on a flat paddle board boat. Paul rode on the front of the boat and dangled his feet in the water. The previous scary-ness of the ropes course and zip failures left him skittish. He was almost ready to go home but then something amazing happened... I stood up on the boat and he freaked out about the rocking of the boat. Then I started paddling and he realized I could control the boat... he calmed down. Then I gave someone else directions on how to stand and paddle her boat... and he realized I might know what I was doing and he asked if HE could paddle our boat. So I sat back down without flipping our boat over and he stood up and took the paddle.... a smile spread across his face and all of his fears melted into the Catawba River.... after 45 minutes on the water, he sounded like an old salt who had been on a boat his entire life. And he had resolved to go back up to the Canyon zipline (the less intense one) and try again.
So we did. And he LOVED it! We zipped across it twice before heading over to the Eco-trek office to get a GPS and trek around the whitewater center searching for set points on the GPS - there were 11 points around the park - it took us about an hour and we found them all.
At the end of this, we were ready to go home. Did I mention that it was 90 something F? I reversed my promise to never go to Sonic again and stopped there on the way home to get icy cold drinks.... It was drink one or pass out, so I chose to drink a cold drink!
All in all it was a GREAT day.
Today has been much less exciting, but quietly ordinary.
I think I will run tomorrow. Just because I can. I hope my time is better than last year's.
Summer is quickly fading - we have less than 20 days before school starts!
So where did the month go?
The week of July 4th I was home with Paul. Our babysitter was on vacation and Mark had to work, so I was home. It was a quiet week. We enjoyed the fireworks in Gastonia. We were going to go to a baseball game, but it was ridiculously hot.
On July 7th, Paul and I travelled to NYC to visit the Welsh family and for Paul to attend summer camp with Miriam at the NY Botanical Garden. We were there for 10 days. Paul and Miriam had a great time at the gardens - I enjoyed hanging out with Cyprian during the day with Mary and John in the evenings. It was hot. And the Welsh apartment lacks central air. It was really hot.
Highlights of the trip for me: seeing the Monet exhibit at the NYBG, and taking Paul and Miriam into the city to see the Today Show and the Lego Store and FAO Schwartz. We had a super time together. I was glad to have Kate with me when traveling around with the kids on the train. I would have been fine on my own, but it was nice to have another adult with me who knows her way around, at least a little more than I do.
I have taken Paul contra dancing. Twice. And now, Paul admits that contra dancing is more fun than the Wii or the DS! He asked how many times he would have to dance in order to be an expert like me.....perhaps three more times? I told him it would take probably 50 more dances. I think we will have that within the next two years! We might have to dance on monday nights during the school year - the exercise and social development are so good for him.... if we can just wake up on time on Tuesdays, we will be fine.
Yesterday, Aug 2, Paul and I went to the National Whitewater Center. We had the most fun, ever. We went on a ropes course. It scared the begeebers out of him, poor guy. But we made it through the course. Then we climbed up to a platform to zip. Only we didn't zip. We had to climb back down. Too frightening to the short one. We then went to a less intense zip line, only Paul wouldn't zip. I DID zip, and I began to wonder if I had made a mistake bringing him out for the day. We changed course and went down to the Catawba river and rode on a flat paddle board boat. Paul rode on the front of the boat and dangled his feet in the water. The previous scary-ness of the ropes course and zip failures left him skittish. He was almost ready to go home but then something amazing happened... I stood up on the boat and he freaked out about the rocking of the boat. Then I started paddling and he realized I could control the boat... he calmed down. Then I gave someone else directions on how to stand and paddle her boat... and he realized I might know what I was doing and he asked if HE could paddle our boat. So I sat back down without flipping our boat over and he stood up and took the paddle.... a smile spread across his face and all of his fears melted into the Catawba River.... after 45 minutes on the water, he sounded like an old salt who had been on a boat his entire life. And he had resolved to go back up to the Canyon zipline (the less intense one) and try again.
So we did. And he LOVED it! We zipped across it twice before heading over to the Eco-trek office to get a GPS and trek around the whitewater center searching for set points on the GPS - there were 11 points around the park - it took us about an hour and we found them all.
At the end of this, we were ready to go home. Did I mention that it was 90 something F? I reversed my promise to never go to Sonic again and stopped there on the way home to get icy cold drinks.... It was drink one or pass out, so I chose to drink a cold drink!
All in all it was a GREAT day.
Today has been much less exciting, but quietly ordinary.
I think I will run tomorrow. Just because I can. I hope my time is better than last year's.
Summer is quickly fading - we have less than 20 days before school starts!
Friday, June 29, 2012
The end of a busy week and the start of a busy weekend
Today was the final day for Totus Tuus camp. A fun time was had by all. A lot of work was done behind the scenes! The behind-the-scenes-team worked SUPER HARD all day to get snacks set up and then cleaned up, to get lunches set up and then cleaned up, to make 200? water balloons and to fill water guns, buckets and assorted other water toys and distribute icecream sandwiches and popsicles. I was exhausted at the end of the day! Paul was drenched, but happy.
The wiggly boys did pretty well at mass (thank goodness) although my sweet Paul was getting on my nerves being himself. (read: wiggly, impatient, inattentive). Fortunately, another adult was able to call him to sit away from me and she was better able to get him to at least be a little still and out of my eye....
And then pride might come before a fall..... On Monday I was able to get to reconciliation... and then on Wednesday I spent the day rejoicing that I was in a state of grace. Not out loud really, but just in my head. And I did mention it aloud to the director of faith formation because I was glad I didn't have to go, since our parish priest was so busy, there really wasn't time for me to go with the kids. And I was so happy to not feel the NEED to go. And then on Thursday, something snapped and my state of grace evaporated. It is a long story, not spread about online. But I know I will be going back to reconciliation. Soon.
So note to self.... there is wisdom in the new testament when Paul? says that if we boast we should only boast in the Lord. And being proud of being in a state of grace... comes before the fall. Right back into humanity.
Lesson also learned this week: The 4th Commandment states that we should honor our father and mother in order to ensure length of days. I have a new understanding of why. And no, I did not dishonor my parents....
After getting home today, I took a short nap and then Paul and I both got showered and dressed to head to a Rosary for my dad's friend, Mr App, who died this past Monday. Being in a recieving line caught me off guard. Not so fun. Paul joined in the rosary and made it through 2 1/2 decades before Mark arrived to rescue him. I was impressed that he did well. I was also glad that my mom had an extra rosary to share.
So onto a busy weekend - I work Saturday and Sunday with moms and babies, doing lactation. I am thankful to be working in an airconditioned space.
That's about it for the moment.
The wiggly boys did pretty well at mass (thank goodness) although my sweet Paul was getting on my nerves being himself. (read: wiggly, impatient, inattentive). Fortunately, another adult was able to call him to sit away from me and she was better able to get him to at least be a little still and out of my eye....
And then pride might come before a fall..... On Monday I was able to get to reconciliation... and then on Wednesday I spent the day rejoicing that I was in a state of grace. Not out loud really, but just in my head. And I did mention it aloud to the director of faith formation because I was glad I didn't have to go, since our parish priest was so busy, there really wasn't time for me to go with the kids. And I was so happy to not feel the NEED to go. And then on Thursday, something snapped and my state of grace evaporated. It is a long story, not spread about online. But I know I will be going back to reconciliation. Soon.
So note to self.... there is wisdom in the new testament when Paul? says that if we boast we should only boast in the Lord. And being proud of being in a state of grace... comes before the fall. Right back into humanity.
Lesson also learned this week: The 4th Commandment states that we should honor our father and mother in order to ensure length of days. I have a new understanding of why. And no, I did not dishonor my parents....
After getting home today, I took a short nap and then Paul and I both got showered and dressed to head to a Rosary for my dad's friend, Mr App, who died this past Monday. Being in a recieving line caught me off guard. Not so fun. Paul joined in the rosary and made it through 2 1/2 decades before Mark arrived to rescue him. I was impressed that he did well. I was also glad that my mom had an extra rosary to share.
So onto a busy weekend - I work Saturday and Sunday with moms and babies, doing lactation. I am thankful to be working in an airconditioned space.
That's about it for the moment.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Blessings (and minor grumbles)
Blessings First....
This week, Paul is attending Totus Tuus at St Thomas Aquinas in Charlotte. Thotus Tuus is a program that sends four young people (college age) into a parish to teach children about their faith. It is very easy to use - basically the parish says yes, they want a Totus Tuus team to come, they provide a space and the children and ta da! the program is ready to go. The team has two men and two women. In the morning they work with children in grades 1 - 6 in the evening they work with older kids - grades 7 - 12. They aren't flashy, there isn't alot of fluff. It is alot of talking. Broken up into small segments. The team all rotate among the different grade levels. They work on getting to know the kids and on modeling enthusiasm for being Catholic. It is pretty orthodox in it's teaching about the church. The children (all 85) go to daily mass.
Paul has learned the names of some (if not all - I haven't actually asked if he knows all of them yet) mysteries of the rosary AND the corresponding fruit of the mystery! I know the mysteries, but even I never memorized the fruit of the mystery!
The pastor has also made available the sacrament of reconciliation and all of the 3 - 12th graders were given the opprotunity to have their confession heard.
It is amazing to me what a difference this made for overall attitude among the children....The 5th and 6th graders went yesterday and the overall attitude of the entire group was affected. As a whole, they were much quieter and more attentive to the adults in charge. Today, I think, the 3rd and 4th graders go to reconciliation.
If only the 1st and 2nd graders could go......
Which leads me to my grumbles - the largest group (this is really a mixed blessing) is the youngest group - about 1/2 the kids are in 1st and 2nd grade. They cannot recieve communion yet, they cannont go to confession yet. And they need Jesus more than any of the rest of us! The challenge is that they are the wiggliest. It makes me just a little crazy because these kids (my own included) really struggle with being able to sit in one place for more than five minutes. And then to absorb what is being taught to them? I really think only a fraction is getting through. Add to that the difficulty of sitting through a daily mass....
Fortunately, there are about 10 total adults within the Totus Tuus program, and after the first day's disaster mass of wiggly disruptive young boys, we all chose a boy to sit with during mass and we didn't sit anywhere near each other. Huge difference - for the better.
The encouragement I get though is that my dear little one is not that different from the boys in his peer group.
The fear I have is that he is easily a follower.
The encouragement I have is that he recognizes who the trouble makers are, and he doesn't choose to sit with them, they choose him. So perhaps he could be a leader. I have to figure out how to harness this power for good.
But for the moment, I have to get up and get moving! Another day of fun and excitement is ahead!
P.S. Totus Tuus is Latin for Totally Yours - it was Blessed JP II's motto.
This week, Paul is attending Totus Tuus at St Thomas Aquinas in Charlotte. Thotus Tuus is a program that sends four young people (college age) into a parish to teach children about their faith. It is very easy to use - basically the parish says yes, they want a Totus Tuus team to come, they provide a space and the children and ta da! the program is ready to go. The team has two men and two women. In the morning they work with children in grades 1 - 6 in the evening they work with older kids - grades 7 - 12. They aren't flashy, there isn't alot of fluff. It is alot of talking. Broken up into small segments. The team all rotate among the different grade levels. They work on getting to know the kids and on modeling enthusiasm for being Catholic. It is pretty orthodox in it's teaching about the church. The children (all 85) go to daily mass.
Paul has learned the names of some (if not all - I haven't actually asked if he knows all of them yet) mysteries of the rosary AND the corresponding fruit of the mystery! I know the mysteries, but even I never memorized the fruit of the mystery!
The pastor has also made available the sacrament of reconciliation and all of the 3 - 12th graders were given the opprotunity to have their confession heard.
It is amazing to me what a difference this made for overall attitude among the children....The 5th and 6th graders went yesterday and the overall attitude of the entire group was affected. As a whole, they were much quieter and more attentive to the adults in charge. Today, I think, the 3rd and 4th graders go to reconciliation.
If only the 1st and 2nd graders could go......
Which leads me to my grumbles - the largest group (this is really a mixed blessing) is the youngest group - about 1/2 the kids are in 1st and 2nd grade. They cannot recieve communion yet, they cannont go to confession yet. And they need Jesus more than any of the rest of us! The challenge is that they are the wiggliest. It makes me just a little crazy because these kids (my own included) really struggle with being able to sit in one place for more than five minutes. And then to absorb what is being taught to them? I really think only a fraction is getting through. Add to that the difficulty of sitting through a daily mass....
Fortunately, there are about 10 total adults within the Totus Tuus program, and after the first day's disaster mass of wiggly disruptive young boys, we all chose a boy to sit with during mass and we didn't sit anywhere near each other. Huge difference - for the better.
The encouragement I get though is that my dear little one is not that different from the boys in his peer group.
The fear I have is that he is easily a follower.
The encouragement I have is that he recognizes who the trouble makers are, and he doesn't choose to sit with them, they choose him. So perhaps he could be a leader. I have to figure out how to harness this power for good.
But for the moment, I have to get up and get moving! Another day of fun and excitement is ahead!
P.S. Totus Tuus is Latin for Totally Yours - it was Blessed JP II's motto.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
End of the year....
It isn't really the end of the year. It is the end of the school year.
I am reminded of when I was a child and I had high hopes for a summer of accomplishment. I used to sit and dream of all the books I would read, the good habits I would develop and nurture, the things I would do....
And then reality would set in. Housework, occasional visits to the library, babysitting, daily boredom, or fun doing nothing in particular. And then the week before school started a mad scramble to make good on at least a little of the earlier dreams.
There were a few really good summers.... The summer that we lived at Fr Devens.... I spent that summer volunteering in the library, covering the dust jackets of new books with the plastic that made them durable. I was there four or five days a week.... I would walk or ride my bicycle there, and then afterwards I would go to noon mass at the chapel before walking home for lunch. Afternoons were lazy affairs. And then in July? I went to Oregon by myself and spent a month with my grandparents.
The summer that Mary was 2, Susanne and I went to Girl Scout camp for two weeks, came home for one week and then went to Oregon for a month to visit our grandparents, aunts and uncles. That summer, I bought a great kite and enjoyed flying it at Washington Park in Portland, as well as on the beach.
The summer before college I spent as a nanny taking care of three small boys. It was good practice for what is now my reality with one small boy although it was totally different.
The summer I worked for Dr Winchester on the summer conference on Quality..... It was an empowering experience and it changed me into someone willing to pursue graduate school. I think it enabled me to tap into some of the latent potential that I had been carrying around.
Now.... I am facing a summer with a six year old. I have high hopes - learning to swim, learning to ride a bicycle, reading for fun.....
Reality: Some of it will happen. Life will get in the way.
Meanwhile, I am so very excited that I get my little boy back to hang out at home. I hope we have a great summer and that we both have fun together. These days are going much too quickly!
I am reminded of when I was a child and I had high hopes for a summer of accomplishment. I used to sit and dream of all the books I would read, the good habits I would develop and nurture, the things I would do....
And then reality would set in. Housework, occasional visits to the library, babysitting, daily boredom, or fun doing nothing in particular. And then the week before school started a mad scramble to make good on at least a little of the earlier dreams.
There were a few really good summers.... The summer that we lived at Fr Devens.... I spent that summer volunteering in the library, covering the dust jackets of new books with the plastic that made them durable. I was there four or five days a week.... I would walk or ride my bicycle there, and then afterwards I would go to noon mass at the chapel before walking home for lunch. Afternoons were lazy affairs. And then in July? I went to Oregon by myself and spent a month with my grandparents.
The summer that Mary was 2, Susanne and I went to Girl Scout camp for two weeks, came home for one week and then went to Oregon for a month to visit our grandparents, aunts and uncles. That summer, I bought a great kite and enjoyed flying it at Washington Park in Portland, as well as on the beach.
The summer before college I spent as a nanny taking care of three small boys. It was good practice for what is now my reality with one small boy although it was totally different.
The summer I worked for Dr Winchester on the summer conference on Quality..... It was an empowering experience and it changed me into someone willing to pursue graduate school. I think it enabled me to tap into some of the latent potential that I had been carrying around.
Now.... I am facing a summer with a six year old. I have high hopes - learning to swim, learning to ride a bicycle, reading for fun.....
Reality: Some of it will happen. Life will get in the way.
Meanwhile, I am so very excited that I get my little boy back to hang out at home. I hope we have a great summer and that we both have fun together. These days are going much too quickly!
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Simple Things
This evening after dinner, Mark, Paul and I took a walk. I was reminded of the simple joys of life. And I was pleasantly surprised to find myself back in one of those content moods that I thought was long gone.
This evening's walk reminded me of the walk Paul and I took last spring when I thought that the last Halycon days of early childhood might be coming to an end. Happily, I was wrong. Not to say that these days are all simple and care-free, they are not. But there are some happy moments, interspersed among the busy-ness of every day life.
What I noticed tonight:
Paul has twiggy legs that make me smile.
The dog is finally small enough or rather the boy is big enough, to manage the dog on a walk.
The boy and the dog both want to be first wherever we are going.
We have one more week of belonging to a kindergarten class..... I can't believe an entire school year has past already!
On to summer...
What will we do?
Will Paul learn to ride a bicycle?
Will Paul learn to swim?
Will we make it to daily mass more than just during weeks of VBS and Totus Tuus?
Will we read more than we watch TV or play video games?
Will I ever quit being more ambitious than reasonable?
Will I ever get good routines established? I am making some progress at praying the rosary, for anyone following along.... I do manage to pray it probably 6/7 days, and it is on my mind, I just don't always make it.
At any rate, it is getting late and I need to get to bed so that I can have a great day tomorrow.
Oh, and just in case - if you have a small child with an unexplained tummy ache - if the child can jump without feeling worse - it's probably a virus, not a belly in need of an appendectomy. There, I might have saved you a few hours in an emergency department!
This evening's walk reminded me of the walk Paul and I took last spring when I thought that the last Halycon days of early childhood might be coming to an end. Happily, I was wrong. Not to say that these days are all simple and care-free, they are not. But there are some happy moments, interspersed among the busy-ness of every day life.
What I noticed tonight:
Paul has twiggy legs that make me smile.
The dog is finally small enough or rather the boy is big enough, to manage the dog on a walk.
The boy and the dog both want to be first wherever we are going.
We have one more week of belonging to a kindergarten class..... I can't believe an entire school year has past already!
On to summer...
What will we do?
Will Paul learn to ride a bicycle?
Will Paul learn to swim?
Will we make it to daily mass more than just during weeks of VBS and Totus Tuus?
Will we read more than we watch TV or play video games?
Will I ever quit being more ambitious than reasonable?
Will I ever get good routines established? I am making some progress at praying the rosary, for anyone following along.... I do manage to pray it probably 6/7 days, and it is on my mind, I just don't always make it.
At any rate, it is getting late and I need to get to bed so that I can have a great day tomorrow.
Oh, and just in case - if you have a small child with an unexplained tummy ache - if the child can jump without feeling worse - it's probably a virus, not a belly in need of an appendectomy. There, I might have saved you a few hours in an emergency department!
Thursday, May 3, 2012
It's May already!
April Flew by!
Holy week snuck up on me. I had planned to be off work through holy week, but then ended up working nearly 40 hours!
In the midst of working, I sang with the choir at church for Holy Thursday, Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday morning. It was a lot of fun and hard work to sing with the choir. Every time I join in with a choir, I remember how much I enjoy the sensation of making music and a joyful noise in the company of friends.
Our family gathered at mom's house for Easter dinner. It was a lovely dinner, although I found myself briefly overwhelmed with sadness as we said grace, missing dad at the table.
On Easter Monday, mom, Paul and I drove to New York to visit the Welshs. Actually, I drove. Mom and Paul were along for the ride. We were able to make it door to door in about 12 hours. I am glad to know that I can make the trip within a day on my own if I need to.
We had a great visit with Mary, John, Miriam and Cyprian. We went to the local park, bakery and shops. We went to the Bronx Zoo and the NY Botanic Garden. We saw the Orchid Show and the Children's Garden. I have a small terrarium on my kitchen table as a reminder of the trip.
It was also interesting to see Paul and his interactions with mom when she was in a wheel chair. He really wanted to be "in charge" of pushing the wheel chair. It made me both proud and sad at the same time. Proud because he wants to be helpful, but sad because he is a child and should not feel like he NEEDS to be in charge of pushing the wheel chair. He didn't want to run and play with Miriam and Cyprian, he wanted to push the chair. Don't get me wrong, I am glad to have his help, and I know that when he is truly old enough, he won't want to help. But right now, he is five (almost six) and he needs to be a child. When I am old, he can push me in a wheel chair. It is the realization that his role as a child is odd. On the one hand we want him to understand what is going on and to behave as a miniature adult, but really, he is not. He is a child.
It was good for him to be with Miriam and Cyprian because he was a child among children, not an only child. It was good to see him laughing and being silly. At home, there is not nearly as much laughter. I don't know what needs to change, but I think we need more laughter in our house.
The rest of April flew by in a flurry of work, gardening, housework and school activity. Soccer started again.
Running has gone well, too. I think I am ready for another 5k. I am wondering how much faster I will be this spring than I was last fall. I think I might be a good five minutes faster, but I will be glad to complete any 5k I enter.
I want to write more, but the rest of the things I want to write about are mush in my brains right now. I would ask you to pray for my friends Erin and Tom B. who lost their sweet little boy Noah unexpectedly. And I would ask your prayers for my friend Sandra G. who is facing testing for something that we pray will not happen. And for the parents of baby Avery - who died this week from SMA (www.averycan.blogspot.com) I want to write about Avery and the petition that her parents have put forth..... but I need to come up with words that will be loving and right now I am feeling more judgemental. I just have some thoughts that I want to compose carefully. Also I would ask for prayers for a little girl named Caitlyn (http://www.cheeringforcaitlin.com/). One of my co-workers knows this family, although I am not sure the connection.
So there you have it. A month in a nutshell.
Still struggling to cook, pray, run, and be patient with myself and others. Getting better at it some days and failing miserably others.
More sooner rather than later,
Sara
Holy week snuck up on me. I had planned to be off work through holy week, but then ended up working nearly 40 hours!
In the midst of working, I sang with the choir at church for Holy Thursday, Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday morning. It was a lot of fun and hard work to sing with the choir. Every time I join in with a choir, I remember how much I enjoy the sensation of making music and a joyful noise in the company of friends.
Our family gathered at mom's house for Easter dinner. It was a lovely dinner, although I found myself briefly overwhelmed with sadness as we said grace, missing dad at the table.
On Easter Monday, mom, Paul and I drove to New York to visit the Welshs. Actually, I drove. Mom and Paul were along for the ride. We were able to make it door to door in about 12 hours. I am glad to know that I can make the trip within a day on my own if I need to.
We had a great visit with Mary, John, Miriam and Cyprian. We went to the local park, bakery and shops. We went to the Bronx Zoo and the NY Botanic Garden. We saw the Orchid Show and the Children's Garden. I have a small terrarium on my kitchen table as a reminder of the trip.
It was also interesting to see Paul and his interactions with mom when she was in a wheel chair. He really wanted to be "in charge" of pushing the wheel chair. It made me both proud and sad at the same time. Proud because he wants to be helpful, but sad because he is a child and should not feel like he NEEDS to be in charge of pushing the wheel chair. He didn't want to run and play with Miriam and Cyprian, he wanted to push the chair. Don't get me wrong, I am glad to have his help, and I know that when he is truly old enough, he won't want to help. But right now, he is five (almost six) and he needs to be a child. When I am old, he can push me in a wheel chair. It is the realization that his role as a child is odd. On the one hand we want him to understand what is going on and to behave as a miniature adult, but really, he is not. He is a child.
It was good for him to be with Miriam and Cyprian because he was a child among children, not an only child. It was good to see him laughing and being silly. At home, there is not nearly as much laughter. I don't know what needs to change, but I think we need more laughter in our house.
The rest of April flew by in a flurry of work, gardening, housework and school activity. Soccer started again.
Running has gone well, too. I think I am ready for another 5k. I am wondering how much faster I will be this spring than I was last fall. I think I might be a good five minutes faster, but I will be glad to complete any 5k I enter.
I want to write more, but the rest of the things I want to write about are mush in my brains right now. I would ask you to pray for my friends Erin and Tom B. who lost their sweet little boy Noah unexpectedly. And I would ask your prayers for my friend Sandra G. who is facing testing for something that we pray will not happen. And for the parents of baby Avery - who died this week from SMA (www.averycan.blogspot.com) I want to write about Avery and the petition that her parents have put forth..... but I need to come up with words that will be loving and right now I am feeling more judgemental. I just have some thoughts that I want to compose carefully. Also I would ask for prayers for a little girl named Caitlyn (http://www.cheeringforcaitlin.com/). One of my co-workers knows this family, although I am not sure the connection.
So there you have it. A month in a nutshell.
Still struggling to cook, pray, run, and be patient with myself and others. Getting better at it some days and failing miserably others.
More sooner rather than later,
Sara
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Rejoice with me
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.
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.
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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