Dad And Trees and Speaking Up

Dad died three years ago today.  I wrote a piece right after dad died about how I wished I could have connected more with him.  I longed for personal interaction.  I don't remember any conversations or activities that we did together just the two of us.  It felt like a huge void in my life.  I was boy crazy from an early age.  I was that girl that had to have a boyfriend and as I look back, I wish I would have had more respect for myself.  I cringe but am learning to laugh when I watch a sitcom that makes fun of a young woman with "daddy issues." That was me. It is a thing.  I am aware of it now.

I am also aware that I tend to freeze in place and not act even when I know what to do. I don't speak up. I didn't have the confidence. I'm learning.

Months ago at a teenage values seminar at our church that broached sexuality, one of our youth pastors advised dads of girls: pay attention to your girls and hug them.  They need it and it reduces sexual promiscuity.

When George and I were dating, and we talked about having a family,  I remember telling him that if we had girls he had to pay attention to them, talk to them and do things with them.  I said it once and he has obliged my request since they were born.  I now can see (after George pointed it out!) that it came out as a forceful demand on my part.  I don't regret it.  I spoke up.  I am thrilled that the girls connect with him.  It is necessary and needed.

Yet it also brings up sadness as I type.  There will always be the little girl in me that needs her daddy's attention. It took me many years to accept Dad as he was and it wasn't an easy process. I was angry for a long while and then I grieved.  I grieved him before he died and eventually came to a place of acceptance.  I then could appreciate what he did give me.  I know that he loved me but he could not say it out loud.  I admit I have trouble with this myself.  It was much easier to express love with my children when they were younger than it is with grown people.  I have work to do, to practice vulnerability, to speak up.  It's new territory. Dad's form of love was to provide a roof over my head, clothe, feed and educate me.  Education was really important. And I'm grateful for that.  I really see that now.

Dad loved the outdoors.  I remember his very tanned arms.  On the other hand, I'm an A/C girl who likes to write and talk about thoughts and feelings and spirituality and go to yoga.  He was a gardener, hunter and fisher.   Years before he died, he built a cabin on family property that goes back several generations.  He built it for his family to use. He didn't talk about it or tell me, he just did it. Thanks to him, I'm a tree farmer and I enjoy walking with my brother and surveying the land. My kids love to ride the four-wheelers and get their feet wet in the creek and the girls love to kid me about my country roots, but I know they like it too.

My connection to him now is in land and trees.

And as I walk the dogs in my neighborhood on my street,  I found the most ironic display as a reminder.

Do you see it?

The tree is speaking to me.

Namaste.

Moving On

On Wednesday, our middle school will have a special eighth grade chapel to send them off to high school.  Most everyone of them will be continuing on to high school at Dunham, but this will be Riley's last chapel there.  It is a big goodbye for her but done so, in her very quiet way and I'm the one feeling it.  (Of course I am because I'm a thinker and a feeler!)

After attending an eighth grade event last week, I checked in with her about how she felt about the ending of the school year.  She loves the school but has not found a fit within her small class of girls and she is really ready to move on. I have to remember that it is very brave to acknowledge that you need to make a change and follow through and do it.   This is a big life lesson and we have worked through it step by step together as mom and daughter and as a family.

I know a thousand percent that she needs to try another school and she's ready.

But my heart is ripping up ever so slightly. 

For seven months from the very beginning of school, we have talked about this endlessly.  When difficulties arose over the last few years, I would broach the subject of changing schools for  high school. I said this never thinking she would ever move.  After much disheartenment over the summer and at the beginning of the school year, I brought it up again.  She said yes.   We diligently looked at other schools, weighed every pro and con and she is moving on.  She even has uniforms from a graduating St. Joseph's senior.  Thank you to that mom and daughter for thinking of us!

I've thought this situation out every way possible. I talked to so many people to get every angle on this specific issue.  We did our homework.  But now there is nothing more to think or decide, only to finish and feel. My stomach turns when there is a reminder that she won't be at the same school we have known for ten years and she won't be with her sister.  These feelings are all mine, not hers. I have to own my stuff and not project, but I am allowed these mixed feelings.   I am so excited for her new future, she deserves it.  Owning my feelings will allow them to pass through more easily.   I think mixed in with these emotions, is, could we have done something differently? And much deeper is do I fit in? Yeah, it goes deep.  It always does.

And then I logically think it through and know that not every school works for every student.   And my appreciation for my uniqueness is growing.  And she is ready to go.

So here we go, the end of this school year is here.   There are always mixed feelings about things ending and new beginnings.  This is a special year.  No more Lower School Moving Up ceremony.  Riley is moving on to a new high school.  Mallory is moving up to 6th grade.  All is well. (Well, there are other things going on in the world...)

Today is the Honors ceremony.  It's a good run through before tomorrow's send off chapel.

I will bring tissues.

All will be well.

Namaste.

My First Aerobics Class Since 2008

I stepped out of my comfort zone this afternoon.  And I say Hallelujah every time I do this in large and small ways.  I attended a zumba type dance class.  I have not attended any type of "fitness" class other than yoga in many years.  I can tell you exactly when I walked away.  The scene is perfectly etched in my mind.  I see it.

It was 2008 and it was a horrible Muscle Works Class at a local gym.  I wrote about it on June 13, 2009 entitled "Nightmare in Muscle Works"  The instructor was a meanie.  I just reread what happened and I forgot some of the interaction that went on between she and I.  I don't do well with meanies.  Life is too short to deal with people that are negative and condescending.  It was such a defining moment that I walked away from ever attending another class like that for nearly 8 years.

At that time, I did decide yoga was my pathway for class settings but even that was in a very tepid, careful way.   And I LOVE YOGA and what it does for me.    I have had a love/hate relationship with "exercise" for a long time and I'm coming out of it.  That class or rather, that teacher made me feel inferior and discouraged about exercise classes, and I let her.  But yoga helped me work through it.

I realized tonight that I let that one person affect me dramatically.  There were plenty of other classes and teachers and gyms.  Yet, that is okay.  This was supposed to be my journey.

Found a picture on FB! That is me all the way to the left.

So this afternoon, I went to a Refit dance class taught by a teacher and another parent from my children's school.  I have been watching another Facebook friend post about the Refit classes she teaches for a couple of years now.  I was probably invited to attend one but it never entered my mind, that I could DO the class.  It looked somewhat appealing but in my head, I said, I can't.

That is so sad.

But I feel differently today.  I needed to walk away all those years ago.  I needed to practice yoga and develop a healthier relationship with exercise.  I am learning to listen to my body and know that it likes to move.  Not every single day but movement has become joyful moreso than "I HAVE to do this."  My body is a temple and I want to take care of it and that is sinking in more and more.  When I was resistant to going even to yoga, which I have been doing for fourteen years, my friend says she looks upon it as a massage.  I had never thought of it that way.  That is sinking in too.

Now, I WILL be sore for the next few days.  I can already feel some muscles feel like jello.  But it is great to move unused muscles and there is ibuprofen after all.

So, I plan to make another class soon and keep trying. It will take some time to learn the moves but it was fun.  It was a wonderful way to move my body with music and other women and no meanies.

Namaste.

Listen To Your Intuition Even If You Disappoint Someone Who Came Out Of Your Body

I volunteered to participate in VBS… again.  It's about 10-12 years now.

I didn't want to.   My overriding predominant feeling that was really, really clear to me was that I was done volunteering for VBS.   And it has taken me years to listen to that intuition.  I have written about this topic of VBS before.  There was only one person, maybe two, in my family who wanted me too.

 My eldest daughter said something to the tune of me destroying her life and "you have always volunteered."

I shouldn't do things because other people want me too.  Even the people who came out of my own body.

The dread set in last week.  I have pushed it out of my head all summer but it is upon us.  It starts tomorrow.

DREAD.

This is the opposite of being passionate.

One needs to follow their passion to be fulfilled.

I will put my game face on and do this thing but I'm so biding my time and waiting for this week to be over.  That is now how to live.  I know better than this.  Why do something when you just dread doing it?  There are many other things in life that are necessary that I may not look forward to and need to do. This is not one of them anymore.

Deep Breathing.

I will follow my intuition the next time.

Thirteen Year Old Pee Sticks

While trying to find something under the bathroom sink…found these.  I knew they were there. The memories of infertility do not go away.  They are pregnancy tests with ten and thirteen year old urine on them.  (Yes, pretty gross!)

And yet, I still can't let them go.

I did throw away three of them and kept just one from '02 and one from '05.  These sticks represent two years of trying to get pregnant.   I peed on a lot of sticks waiting for lines to appear that never did.  I waited and waited.   I even peed on ovulation sticks that would not turn positive.

These sticks were so disappointing on so many levels.

They never worked for me.

And that was the problem.  I didn't ovulate.  So I went through a lot of treatment to work to make my body ovulate.  I have indentations in the creases of my arms from all the blood draws.  It was a tumultuous time.  There was a lot of emotional upheaval.  There was a lot of grief for the loss of what wasn't occurring. And that was hard for me and for other people to understand.
I was not an easy person to live with.  Poor George would walk through the door to see what state I was in.  If I was laying on the couch, not good.  If I was upright, then it was better.

Will I ever be able to let them go?  I don't know. Still not ready yet.  I haven't gotten rid of the insurance or prescription paperwork from the same time either.

Maybe one day.

How I Got My Cookie On (My Rookie Year as a Girl Scout Leader)

Last year, I stepped up and out of my comfort zone and led my oldest daughter's Junior Girl Scout Troop.  I had never stepped up to lead anything in my life except to be a guide in VBS and it took me years to learn how to do that comfortably.

I NEVER LED ANYTHING.
EVER.

I learned a lot about myself during this year.  It was a transformative year of growth which was anxiety provoking, painful and frustrating yet pushed me to do things that I was very much capable of.  The person who I thought was going to be an active co-leader with me, was not.  It took about 2 months of waiting for her to call, email, and text me back to realize, she wasn't going to be as active as I had anticipated.  I was very angry at the situation, but knew someone had to lead and that someone was me.

So I learned how to lead over time, sometimes painstakingly.  There were lots of uncomfortable moments and sometimes hours.  But I did it!

Girl Scouts requires lots of paperwork. LOTS! I learned to stand up and speak.  I learned the art of communication with parents to get what I needed. I learned how to set up a Sign Up Genius Account. I learned that the Girl Scout organization responds better to emails than phone calls.  I learned that the Scouts I led did not want to take the 5 Girl Scout steps and "talk something out" to earn a badge.  Fourth and Fifth graders just want to have fun. They want to be hands on.

I learned.

I learned that people love Girl Scout Cookies and selling them is really no big deal.  I learned to listen to my intuition.  I learned that the child who annoys me the most is the one that I can learn the most from.  I learned even if you accidentally put all of your paperwork (including signed parental forms and uncashed checks) in the recycling, you can recover.  It is just a blip.  And I learned there is no Girl Scout Police.  I can break the rules including moving the Cookie Booth to a better location so that we sell more cookies.

So yesterday, I had to finish putting Riley's badges on her Junior sash. She could care less but I am proud of each of these badges.  I earned every one of them!!  I am proud of them.

And now I am co-leading Mallory's Brownie troop.

But after this year, no more.  The learning needs to be in a different area!

Day 3: Post-Op

Mothers of young children are not allowed to be sick or recuperate from "procedures."   This is a fact.

I came home from my "procedure" three days ago.  I didn't realize that my endometrial ablation would include a tube down my throat and gas to put me out.  I thought I would wake up and be ready to go like I did from my colonoscopy which also used propofol.  This time my friend, the uterus, that I boiled, was on fire and let me know.  The ladies who said they stopped for lunch on the way home from this procedure, lied. {grin}

In Post-Op, I had very involved conversations with the nurse and he and I finally came to an understanding.  Communication is so important in all relationships!  I told him I wasn't a good reporter.  He would ask if I needed pain medicine, I would grimace and ask if it would knock me out again.  I don't like to be knocked out and I knew the kids needed to be picked up from carpool.  He and I would discuss the pros and cons of each pain reliever.  He would ask again if I needed pain reliever, I would grimace and then he delivered more medicine through the IV and out I went.  I had one spell of nausea that didn't last long.

On the way home from hospital when all I wanted to do so badly was go to bed, we had to swing by and pick up the children from carpool.  I just laid my head on the console and hoped it went quickly.  We make it home, I hit the bed and begged my husband to get the prescription pain medicine.

My youngest daughter learned that she won a $50 Walmart gift card from our library in a drawing of summer reading program participants.  She and my husband get my narcotics and her gift card.  Well, of course she wants to go to Walmart and pillage everything in the "My Little Pony"section and my husband comes to me during one of my conscious phases and asks if he can take her and leave Riley with me.  I say no.  Mallory holds off for a few minutes and comes in and cries about not being able to go.  My anger rises.  I'm in pain, and in and out of consciousness but I still have to make decisions.  I stay awake for a good period and decide it's better for them to go so that I don't have to take her later.

The next day, my friend drops off delicious Sweet Wishes Cupcakes.  I share them with the girls when they get home from school.  At this point, I am about 60%.  My throat hurts from the intubation tube, my uterus aches and I feel anesthesia fog.  As I work to drag Mallory to soccer practice of which she really, really wanted to play when I signed her up but now she despises and blames me for having to go, she decides to ask me why I ate the chocolate cupcake.

I lose it.  It's not pretty.  The words, "I'm the one who had a tube down my throat", "I'm the one who had my uterus boiled", and "It was MY friend who brought the cupcakes so I get to eat the CHOCOLATE one" come out of my mouth very loudly.

I apologize, we go to soccer practice, I don't really remember driving but I'm sure it was done safely.  The next day I have an aha that is okay for me to be cranky.  It is o-kay to be cranky.  No explanations, no rationale.  It is okay to disappoint others.  I have to take care of myself.  (Extreme self care= let me disappoint you) I don't have to be "on" all the time. And it is good for my children to know that as well.  They don't have to pretend that all is fine, all the time.  Authenticity.

Because I Knew You

I first heard the song, "For Good" on the Oprah Series Finale as sung by Kristen Chenoweth.  I got chills, as it was so powerful to watch the men that Oprah had educated walk by with candles.  It was an amazing energy coming through the tv screen that I could not deny and I teared up as Oprah received gratitude from the Morehouse men, her viewers and friends.

I had never heard the song but it blew me away.  I eventually downloaded it and listened.  It was from the musical, "Wicked."  As GaGa was losing her cancer battle, I listened.  The reputation of a mother in law is not always a positive one.  And the relationship with mine, evolved greatly over the years.  In the early ones, all was well as she lived far away in Massachusetts.   The closest in proximity we were was 7 hours away during our Buffalo stint.  A few years later, she was a widow and ready to move to Baton Rouge where we were.  I was frightened.  She didn't drive and hinted at wanting to live WITH us.  {gulp} When she would come for her two week visits which were ten days too long for me, she acknowledged my lack of perfectionism in home related matters. 

I had not learned yet that these comments said more about her than me.  If I had been okay with who I was, then the comments shouldn't matter, but they stung at the time.

Yet, she ended up in a fantastic retirement community ten minutes away and made friends and had experiences she was unable to do previously.  We worked things out.  She spent a lot of time with us at our house on weekends, and even travelled  together.  She loved my kids almost as much as I do.  As her health declined we actively discussed that "we were good."  There was nothing we needed to hash out.  She had taught me household tricks even as I wasn't really paying attention, but evidently I had listened.  In one of our last heart to hearts, she told me that I softened her.

Wow, what do you say to that?

Yet, she taught me one of the best lessons ever.  We would discuss issues at hand and then agree to disagree.  It wasn't so outright at first but over time, I realized what was occurring.  I had different opinions than her and after the conversation, we carried on as usual, with no repercussions.  Wow.  That was life changing for me.  

GaGa's birthday was May 15th.  We had chocolate cake with candles and sung Happy Birthday.  She would have been 81.  

This afternoon, I'm very excited to see "Wicked the Musical" for the first time.  The last song of the show is....

Learning to Say No

I went to a women's spiritual retreat last weekend.  It had been several years since I had been to one and it was wonderful to have downtime by myself which is rare.  Even if it doesn't involve a television.

Before I even made it home from said retreat, I ended up with my family at a dog adoption event and they had already picked out their choice:  a "mostly" house-trained dog of unknown age but still chewing like a puppy.

What was I doing there?

I had three faces looking at me, begging me to take this not full grown dog home.  My gut told me, no.  I will be the one to take care of it most of the time and have to direct the others to care for it as well.  I hesitated for a few minutes while I learned the facts.  If we signed on the dotted line, which was our only choice at that moment, that dog was ours, forever.  I really wanted an out if it didn't fit in with the other four legged friends already at our house.

I said no.

This was a huge moment.  I went with my gut.   I had to handle being the "heavy" and the subsequent fallout.  Mallory cried and rode home with George.   Riley got in my car but wouldn't talk to me and she is not even that crazy about our current animals.

But that was okay.  It was hard to say no, and I have really only learned to say yes recently to new opportunities so I'm practicing boundaries in this area and won't always get it right.  But for now, I got it right.  I am relieved not to have another being in the house to take care of right now.  I have my hands full.

The Bow Came Off

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.  ~Kahlil Gibran



Wow- Chewing on this one a little bit.  I have had this post sitting as a draft for a few weeks and I had to, in order to fully accept the truth of Kahlil's statement.

The last two weeks, I came face to face with some lessons that I had visited and thought I had conquered already.  

Ha ha ha.  Conquered already.

Just when you think you have a deep personal truth wrapped up with a bow on it...Here it comes again, unwrapped.

One of my friends pointed out evolving is like a spiral and you do encounter some of the same issues again but at a different level and perspective.  I thought, geez, I had already covered this ground.  I thought I had moved on but alas, I had to revisit some core issues.  The good thing, is that it didn't hurt quite as much as it did the first time and I was able to come to the understanding sooner but evidently it was needed again to continue my journey. 

But I felt broken open and raw for several days.  These are not fun feelings to go through.  I would have done anything in the past to NOT feel that way, but now I see it is all part of the process.   Pain is inevitable in life.  It's how we waddle in it or learn to move on from it that makes all the difference.  I have been a waddler for a good portion of my life and now I'm gaining the skills to move on and actually gain strength and understanding from the pain.  It's new territory, it's not easy and it takes time to learn the skills  but it feels very freeing in the long run.

Postscript:  Feeling pain feels so monumental to me and I think today I was reminded why. My therapist told me that we as humans will do anything to avoid pain.  The research is there to back this up.  Even more than a desire for food, we will work harder to avoid pain.  I guess this answers why the journey of awakening that I'm on, is not a popular one.  But I am so thrilled when I find other pilgrims along the way!

Bone Tired But Soul Stirred

I have not been sleeping well lately. Many things are on my mind. There is the everyday running of a household with two young children and a husband whose surgery practice keeps him hopping at all hours of the day and night. My mother in law has been really ill for the last year and now my father is going to begin dialysis at 81 years of age with a bad heart. Mortality is on my mind.

There is no avoiding it under these current circumstances. The idea of meeting my maker and a reflecting on my own life, cements in me my desire to absolutely be who I was born to be, how God made me, to trust who I authentically am. I have worried about what other people think of me for so many years and acted upon those worries and it was completely unnecessary. I never thought to question them as deeply as I have until the last few years. Figuring out who I am and accepting me for me, I have felt a since of peace and freedom for the first time in a very long time, probably since I was very little...

By my bedside, there is a book by Mary O'Malley entitled "The Gift of Our Compulsions." I have read just a little but know I have got something revealing in my hands. Mary describes when we are born, we love ourselves unconditionally. We live in our bodies, and in our hearts and whoever we are is... enough. That idea alone is worth pondering for a few minutes but I go on, Ms. O'Malley states we "lived in full connection with ourselves and our lives." "Life was a magical adventure." She goes on to say as children, we knew "how to keep the joy of life alive by hugging and snuggling, swinging and twirling, dancing and running." And then we veer off for so many reasons including how we were parented, our environment, our Western culture, just life, period.

It was a total aside that I began focusing on "my inner child" in the first place. I just really, really desired to come to grips with my issues with food. I thought about food too many hours of the day and that is not natural or healthy. I started therapy. I read Geneen Roth and then Eckhart Tolle, Melody Beattie, Richard Roth, Gary Zukav, and on and on. I don't read through all of each book but I read just enough to get the sense of what they are saying and I hear the same brilliant messages again and again using different phraseology and I feel like I am at home. I have continual aha's that give me understanding and clarity. I have also experienced rounds of intuitive eating that are effortless and well, quite miraculous when I have felt controlled by food for the last few years. I am seeing how all of the pieces come together, but also that this journey and the learning will be for the rest of my life.

We are planning my eldest's 9th birthday party. She wants to sing karaoke among other things. After Riley and I sang and danced to a few fun songs like "We Are Family" and "Saturday In The Park" I spied a song that I forget about but I really get into it when I hear it. It is the song "And I'm not Leaving" from "Dreamgirls." I could go on about the Jennifer Hudson vs Jennifer Holiday debate but I went with the one with the better music.

My aforementioned inner child delights in singing and dancing to this song, I come ALIVE. I am still amazed how this happens when music stirs my soul. My pasty white English/Irish self tries to channel any if at all soul diva I have inside of me to belt it out. Riley tells me not to dance while I'm singing and I can tell the teen years are going to be challenging because I have to move when my soul is stirred these days. It is really hard not to move when the music is on.

Dread

Today, I have planned to see Mary and it is something I dread. When we visited on Sunday and picked up her clothes to wash, I told her that I was coming. Will she remember? I don't know, these days it is a real toss up. When George visited last night, she was glad we had moved back to town. Last week, it was funny that she thought George and I were getting a divorce. The kind of funny that you have to laugh or you will lose it.

Well, this week the dementia has turned even more personal and it's not funny anymore. She is sharing her paranoid thoughts. She asks if George is where he is supposed to be during the day, is he really at work? Is he behaving? Is he doing what he is supposed to do? Then later in the day, she thinks that George and I are hiding something from her.

In my new life skills I would employ boundaries with this person who is coming at me. But she is very, very sick and I am responsible for her so I have to learn to completely detach from what she is saying, like she is a child. She pushed my buttons and I was angry and sad all at once. Then I read this quote on Facebook.

"Whenever you are upset about an event, a person, or a situation, the real cause is not the event, person, or situation, but a loss of true perspective that only space can provide." ~Eckhart Tolle

I immediately knew what was going on, her thoughts were triggering issues that I have with other people. As soon as I realized this, the feelings disappeared.

But the dread goes on.

Her arms are so thin, and she looks so emaciated from the top down but her legs are swollen from her body turning on itself for nutrition. She can't work a television remote or dial a phone. I had to cut her food the last time she came to our house, which was a new low. Her mind is not working right and her confusion is causing her much anxiety. The denial of the understanding of the cancer in her body, that has served to prolong her life for the last year is lifting and she is beginning to give up on her mantra of wanting to go to the doctor to find out what is wrong. We have had to scale back the visits with her beloved granddaughters because it is necessary for both parties and this kills every loyalty bone in my body. It is sad, sad, sad.

But I have now written about it, released it for a few minutes, and the emotional and physical exhaustion of yesterday, the last week, the last month and the last year has lifted ever so slightly and I will hit the treadmill before I go see her, try to get some endorphins going and carry on. I did not know my pledge to myself that I would be as present for her as I could possibly be in this terminal illness would be so incredibly difficult. In the end, my gift of presence to her, will be the ultimate gift to myself. I can't take care of her without taking care of me first.

School starts tomorrow

We are back from our last summer fling last week, a few nights at Orange Beach, AL and one night at Beau Rivage in Biloxi, MS. School starts tomorrow. It was difficult at first for me to let go and "relax" at the beach. GaGa is ever present in our minds. We received one desperate phone call on day 2 and then George decided to call her each day. I let him take over during the trip. I just wanted to escape that reality for a little bit and being away from home did help that. It was wonderful to get away.

My birthday occurred while we were gone and it was a good day. Really!! This is a remarkable occurrence for me and my birthday baggage. I took control of certain aspects and it doesn't hurt to spend it away from home! George stepped up to the plate and "took over" and let me have some down time. I appreciated it immensely. There were presents from George and the girls. I planned a massage and got a manicure. I spent the afternoon with my family relaxing at all of the Caribe pools. Had delicious take out from Louisiana Lagniappe for dinner and I sat and ate with wet hair, no makeup and a tshirt and shorts on. For a birthday it was pretty darn good! Maybe the birthday baggage tide is achanging.

In the car on the way home, I had a moment where I was SAD that school was starting. The flow of being a stay at home mom is ever changing. Now, I haven't had alone time in ages, my house is a WRECK, (my cleaning lady hasn't been in weeks), there has been no regular physical activity or yoga but I am wistful today that the girls are heading back to school. Each year passes faster and the bottom line is, I love being their mother. This summer flew by, as I kept them busy and they are getting older and easier to manage (or is it me?) There were a few moments I was ready to ship them somewhere with the fighting and whining but in comparison to other summers, this one was managed well.


I will have more opportunity to visit my mother in law and I need to. It has gotten really difficult to have the kids around her. They are scared of her and she has a low tolerance and that is just plain depressing because I know how much she loved being with them before. She is on the slow decline and it is devastating to my soul to watch this happen. There is just no going around how difficult this is. It doesn't end until her end and actively waiting for a loved one to die is not natural. She is a shadow of her former self, there are no more smiles, and her quality of life has deteoriated immensely. No warm fuzzies here. Death is a natural part of life, but it is unnatural to go through it or maybe it's the grieving part of it. But time marches on and life continues. Riley will put her uniform on tomorrow and school will officially start and I have 2 birthday parties to plan that are right around the corner. Life goes on.

Practicing

This year I said no to VBS!! This was pretty big for me to do. Last year was the first time the thought of not working it occurred to me. That is how entrenched it is. It was a "supposed to" in the highest order when you throw God in there with the fact that I am a stay at home mom. It took me up to the week before to actually say no, but then I did. My inner instinct just said this isn't a good idea and I went with it. There was a smidgen of guilt and when I dropped the girls off, I kind of ran through and didn't want to make eye contact with anybody.

But I said no. There must have been some divine guidance because the week prior, GaGa had a rough week, which meant I did too and I was not prepared to deal with a gathering of over 420 kids on Monday. I barely made it through the building without crying the first two days.

I am now practicing taking care of myself, so that I can take care of my loved ones. It is a fairly new skill and this was a further step along the way. One of my friends, described that feelings just want to be recognized. This is so true. My immediate instinct with negative feelings and sometimes even the positive ones would be to avoid the experience of them at all cost. With more and more practice, I see how they just want to be acknowledged and then I see how they can move through. I am still amazed to watch this happen when I have a horrid day and then wake up and be okay the next. I practiced stuffing the feelings for so many years, I got pretty good at it, and it is incredible to now be able to do something different and more healthy.

On Thursday evening, I was again at my wit's end with some occurrences. I was irrationally irritated and I knew it but the feelings were there because I had been so stressed out the entire week, my tolerance level was low. Finally, one of my besties and I just started joking about the situation and I started to laugh, really laugh hard. It was very dark humor and it felt soooo good. I then realized I had not laughed all week. Now THAT is a crying shame. So in the middle of strife, dark humor prevailed. It helped me turn the corner and my mood lifted. So I continue to practice. Whatever works.

Getting to the Bottom

Last week was a difficult week. I received three different phone calls from my mother in law, saying she was in pain. In the past, these phone calls meant it was time to go to the hospital because something was wrong, but now we work to manage the pain. Now, I ask questions to get to the bottom of it and this is not easy as she is getting more and more confused. I inquire if she has told a nurse, when was the last time she had pain medicine, and does she feel like she wants to pull her hair out too which means there is some anxiety as well. These phone calls take me through a wave of emotions, and having three in a week put me over the edge by Monday morning.

The emotions begin with first a sense of panic, that I HAVE to get her out of pain. Second, I have sadness that she is in pain. Third, I wonder how long is this going to go on? Fourth, frustration because there seems to be a breakdown somewhere as to why this is happening, on a simpler level in regard to the pain and on a deeper level, cancer. But the system is not perfect, nor am I. Sunday morning while attending church I felt the emotions sitting on my chest ready to come out but when and where? To someone or by myself? what do I do with the kids? And how does George feel about all of this and I KNOW he doesn't process things the same as me. After church, I wrote a post to a closed group that I belong to on FB and vented and the tears started to fall, some relief was coming. Monday, I talked to two different close friends in and around taking my kids to VBS and I cried and they listened without judgement and it was cathartic.

By the end of the day, I was drained, and utterly empty. I don't like the way this feels either but it is better than trying to push the feelings down. I am experiencing them head on. As the Hospice worker says, some people take the rest of their lives to learn to live with uncomfortableness. And it is slowly becoming easier to allow the feelings out and knowing it is okay to be overwhelmed and then exhausted. There is nothing wrong with me for having feelings. Today I feel tired but cleansed, ready for the next wave. I have taken three calls from the nursing home while trying to type this but this is good because we are getting to the bottom of the breakdown. And it is a good thing to get to the bottom of a breakdown...

Waves

I talked with a Hospice Social Worker yesterday. Had a long weekend with George out of pocket again, this time on call at the hospital. GaGa asked for an outing and I knew I needed to oblige especially if she was feeling good enough to go. She requested the mall. GaGa loves to shop and takes her time looking at every item intently, but you can't do that with a five and eight year old in tow and you can't promise them a treat and not follow through either. I had such a myriad of emotions, dread, hopefulness, excitement, then annoyance and finally, let's get this over with and get her home. Going out to eat was not good either. The god's honest truth is that GaGa even though she is dying can still be annoying. But you don't want to say that out loud but I just did.

I called the social worker because I felt at a loss. On Monday afternoon, I get a call and GaGa is in pain and it seems to be only an hour and a half after taking some pain medication. And then she starts crying. This rips me up for several reasons. First off, she is in pain and GaGa is very stoic. Secondly, I had been complaining about her. And I know it is okay for me to complain one day and then turn it around the next and have utter compassion. There is no perfect way to handle this situation. She is stoic but her feelings seem to come out complaining about unrelated things like at a restaurant...

She has been getting confused and forgetful along with the ever present pain and anxiety. So it is hard to know exactly what is going on and a few phone calls later between the hospice nurse and the nursing home staff, more drugs are given and she is on her way to a medicated relief. My loss is that I don't know what to say at times (or really the loss is just that CANCER SUCKS). By the time the social worker returned my call at the end of the day, I had figured out how to handle it. I just needed to reflect back what she was saying to me. Everyone wants to be heard and acknowledged.

The overwhelming feeling of being responsible for someone who has a terminal illness, hits me at different times. I was describing to the social worker that this journey since September has been up and down and the emotions are all over the place but with periods of stability. The social worker then utters the statement that resonates with me deeply and that is cancer and grief are very similar, they come in waves.

I'm so glad I took the call with her.I know this to be true.

I had been wondering for a while how I had been feeling okay even though GaGa is still dying (like we all are) At first with GaGa's metastasized cancer diagnosis, it seemed like she was going downhill fast at the end of the year, losing weight, in pain and then she became stable. And it was like okay, she's going to be around for a while longer. The term Living with cancer came to my mind. And then there is another setback, a fall, a trip to the hospital. And then stability. Waves.

The social worker said one more thing that was another huge aha moment. I shared briefly what I have been doing in my own therapy- learning to process my emotions and not block them and know that any feeling is not right or wrong and learning to just be with the feelings (and not eat!). She said that learning to live with uncomfortableness is a lifetime journey for most people. It takes practice. It felt SO true as I heard it come out of her mouth. I needed to hear that right then. There are moments that just stick out in life and this will be one of them. Although I almost didn't answer the phone, God, the holy spirit, the higher power, knew I needed to and gave me the nudge. It is not comfortable telling a complete stranger intimate details of my life but I needed that cellular hug and wisdom from someone who understands this process to carry on. My ability to handle it will come in waves as well. Sometimes I can handle it, sometimes I can't. And that is okay. Waves.

Food or Love from Mr. Popper's Penguins

The family and I saw Mr. Popper's Penguins yesterday. *Spoiler* At the end of the movie, there is a test to see if the penguins will go towards the zoo keeper with the food, or to Mr. Popper and the love they had shared. I don't have to tell you the ending, you can guess. As we are walking out, Mallory turns to me and says, "What would you choose, food or love?"

What did she just say??? I was speechless. Yes, me speechless.

My little old soul, Mallory, aged five and a half is speaking to my soul again. I didn't even connect the scene in the movie with one of my life's major missions, I wasn't paying attention, but she pointed it out to make sure I was.

So there is the question, just hanging out there, and something in my rational brain was saying, we have to have food to live, but the nurturer and mother in me was thinking, I should say love, I know I should say love. I alway pride myself on answering all the questions, to the best of my ability at the girls' level but I was speechless. It was just TOO personal and too raw.

I couldn't say, well Mallory, I have turned food into love over the course of my lifetime and I'm trying to reverse that pattern right now and well, it's pretty hard to do. It seems to be the hardest thing I've ever done because it is so complicated with the fact that you have to change the way you think, and at age 42, this is hard to do. And then there are these people who brought me into the world, that don't get this and you still have to relate to them and that's all about forgiveness. And well Mallory, I have been in therapy for quite a long time to overcome this and slowly, food is becoming less and less important and I am learning to give myself love, and nurture my own self. And I'm really trying to set this example for you and Riley. I am learning to be present.

But I didn't say anything. I'm not quite sure what I said, it was the deer in headlights moment. So just a moment ago, I asked Mallory what she would choose. (My friend pointed out that's what she would have done.) She smiled her impish smile and said, "love." I'm crying right now. My kids teach me love lessons all the time. I keep thinking I'm the one teaching them, but they are teaching me. I am eternally grateful for having them in my life. More tears. Happy tears.

Mother's Day (yes I know I'm really late)

Sometimes the day just doesn't work out like you want it too and there are UGLY moments. This was mine. My children did not want to cooperate to take a Mother's Day picture with me. After all it was after 3pm, after church and sunday school, after picking up GaGa and wheelchair in her current condition, after lunch at a white tablecloth restaurant, after a drive to get my new favorite dessert (cakeballs), after being told to play the quiet game because the adults were getting irritated by their exuberant voices in the backseat. It was too much for them, but it was Mother's Day and I realized I wanted to take a picture.

We have to get up earlier next year.



So this was the worst picture out of three that we managed to take. This is one for FB right? We did have some wonderful precious moments with sleepy eyed greetings and cards, and those I can treasure. And I'm learning to treasure the ones from taking the pictures. Being mad is okay and that is part of being a family.

My aha moment came the next day. Mother's Day or any other holiday that I consider holy?! that I try to make emotionally perfect just can't be. I believe that most "negative" emotions were held in during my childhood right on up until a few short years ago or they came out passively aggressively. In the beginning, my therapist told me that my feelings were not right or wrong, they were just feelings. I had no idea what she was talking about because this was not what I had come to understand.I am just learning how to express "negative" feelings in an acceptable manner.

It has taken a while for this particular truth to sink in because there are just a few holidays that come around each year but now, I realize it applies to EVERY day of my life. I really desire to be "at peace." And there just can't be plain ole' peace. Life, and family are just roller coasters. Like that scene from the movie "Parenthood" I know that there are bumps and bigger bumps along the way but unconsciously I thought that I could do those "in a perfect way." Even under the most stressful situations, I wanted to handle them well, and not be depressed, or feel sad, or feel completely overwhelmed and need to cry. How freeing!!

Wow, I get it now. But next year, I will take the Easter picture BEFORE we go to church...

This clip is missing the funny line where Grandma who speaks life's truth, goes and gets in the neighbor's car.

Living With the Mighty Mississippi

The Mississippi River is at it's highest levels here in Baton Rouge since 1973 or 1927. In 1927, one million homes were flooded. Both dates are mentioned and I'm not sure which is accurate at this point in time. I became obsessed with watching the coverage especially last Saturday as the decision was made to open the Morganza Spillway and flood rural areas making the flood danger lower here in Baton Rouge and New Orleans. I read a couple of articles about living close to a river of the magnitude of the Mississippi. Mark Twain was quoted. The gist is that the Mississippi River is a force to be reckoned with and men can only do so much to contain it or try to harness it.

I finally bought flood insurance although we do not live in the flood zone. Each hurricane season since Katrina and especially Gustav, I have thought, I need to do this, just in case. Back in 1927, the river came up as far as Highland Road which is less than a mile from here, but you never know. There could be another tropical storm that just pours over us for days which has happened before. You cannot fight mother nature as seen in Missouri, Alabama, Japan, Indonesia, Haiti and the list goes on and on.

We went to see the water downtown last night. I have never been to the levee and seen police tape. (That is the top of USS Kidd in the background) No one is allowed on the levee. The water IS at historic levels. You can also see the orange tube structure, the Tiger boom, that was added to increase the height of the levee.

After Gustav, I don't take the force of Mother Nature for granted anymore. Katrina could have done it but I was not affected in an up close and personal way. With Gustav I was. One hundred mile an hour winds and subsequent destruction in our area, I was left with no power, trees down in the yard, 2 young children, no generator, no ice, 90+ degree temperatures, an elderly mother in law and a husband planted at the hospital, Gustav did me in. I can still see the parking lot of Walmart in my mind, when we went to find ice. It was unreal and resembled a third world country but everyone was in a car. People needed gas, food and ice. We had no idea how long it would take for them to reestablish electrical power, so the girls and my mother in law headed to my sister in law's in Atlanta. I had never driven that far by myself but I wanted to get out of town. I say by myself because the three other passengers could not drive and have no sense of direction so I was on my own in that sense.

So, I now believe in the force of mother nature. I watched the house in an adjoining neighborhood slowly rebuild after Gustav and it took them at least 2 years. It was a weekly reminder and I still think of Gustav as I pass it. I had to feel it up close and personal to REALLY believe. My lovely house that I fill with our belongings and decorate and get just right, can be gone in an instant or a matter of minutes. And hopefully, I would be left with what matters most, my family and God that I can rely on to get me through.

New Growth

George and I and the girls worked on the backyard on Saturday which was a jungle. We had a lot of overgrown weeds, dead bushes. It looked awful as you can see. The grass needed to be cut badly and it had rained for days which prevented that. We had leftover residual from the remodel in the form of landscape bricks, regular bricks, paint cans, and grout mix hanging out in piles. And let me preface this with, I DO NOT enjoy yard work. I have heard the saying you either are a person who enjoys gardening or you are not. I thought I fell in to the category of "not" and then, Saturday occurred.

I knew the work needed to be done and I knew George needed help. And ever since we added on within our old patio space we are looking more closely than ever at our backyard everyday. I got instructions from George in what to do with the bed that I was focused on. Clear the weeds from the dead bush and then cut the bush back. Not an easy task because they were all intertwined.


All I could start thinking was oh my, this feels like something profound and therapeutic going on before my eyes. The weeds are in here (negative self talk that crops in and has to be whacked away), the dead bushes (old negative thought patterns that have to go that are being replaced by new more positive thought patterns) and then hiding underneath, the tiny new growth (the small voice that I am learning to listen and pay attention to instead of the other junk) The voice is small and sometimes I can't always hear it when I let the busyness of life drown it out.

Wow.

It took us 3 hours to do the prep work for him to be able to cut the grass and weed eat but then it felt like a new backyard. There is still much work to be done, but the space is much cleaner and neater and lovely to enjoy. Who knows, maybe I will develop a small affinity to the dirt work. We will see, time will tell. But either way, it's okay.