thanks{giving} #7...prep work

once upon, a very long time ago there was this 20 something kindergarten teacher who loved those bright eyed children she was trusted with for 3 1/2 hours each weekday.  she wanted to provide an environment where they would learn and grow not just academically, but as little people who would one day do great things.  and because this 20 something was slight neurotic {in fact, she still is neurotic-not twenty something}, she would plan & prep for her teaching week ahead, attempting to predict where glitches would foster frustration & failure, instead of wonder & triumph.

there was oodles, of what teachers call, "prep work" to keep all those busy hands-minds-bodies occupied for those 3 1/2 hours.  i  know it all sounds simple and too thought out, but remember i have a tendency toward compulsive.  i couldn't leave the classroom on fridays until the following week's lessons had been planned & prepped {this was of course assisted by the busy hands of parent volunteers}.

prep work.  pjm wasn't a classroom teacher, but he was a teacher of business-construction-development. he would formulate a mental image of how a parcel of land should look once developed & communicate every detail to an architect who would draw his vision.  he would estimate & calculate the cost of all the materials necessary.  he would secure bids from subcontractors & financing from lenders.  prep work to ensure a project would be completed. "on time & under budget" was his business marta.

prep work.  he was adamant in the late 90's we see an attorney regarding estate planning.  wills written. power of attorneys notarized.  health care directives executed.  all the worst case scenarios and impossible "what ifs" were worked out on paper, so he could have peace of mind knowing it was all taken care of.  if felt like a waste of time & completely premature.  i was only 30 something & he was only in his mid 40's.  his parents were, and still, are alive-active-healthy.  but i also knew i had personality quirks and so just giggled and went along with all his prep work, figuring if it helped his mental well-being, it was worth the time & effort.

dear pjm.

thanks{giving} for all your crazy prep work.

it helps me not come unglued in this part of life.

you spelled out all of your wishes long ago.

it is my job {and honor as your wife}

to be your voice when you no longer have one.

it makes the discussions less scary, as i know exactly how you want to be cared for.

some disagree with me & have even said i am "plain mean".

thanks{giving} you trusted me to be your voice.

promise to respect & grant your wishes...even when others disagree.

love you.

your voice

dear God.
thanks{giving} for guiding pjm long ago to nail down the specifics.
if it were my responsibility, it would have never been done.
i sit on the fence wondering if he knew somehow this was all going to unfold.
he always was good at the "surprise".
or was it You just guiding our steps while we obediently followed?
this is one of the "why" questions i will never know the answer to,
but am deeply thanks{giving} for the prep work.
trusting Your ways,
me

thanks{giving} #6...saying no to church

sunday mornings are a struggle in this home.  sweet brown eyes wants to go to "that" church.  me wants to stay in the warmth of MY home and hide from all those churchy folks.  but when i guilt myself into going to church {which is ALWAYS where Christ wants my heart}, i go to the "other" church.  the place where we attended and served for years. the place where pjm & i were baptized and the olders attended sunday school and youth group.  in the dark of worship & the light of teaching, it feels like home for my soul. but all the rest of church is a mental free-for-all.

buying that donut on the way to class.  checking sweet brown eyes into sunday school.  walking {alone} in to the sanctuary.  sitting in the general vicinity of where "we" sat.  singing {off key} to God who is mighty-loving-merciful.  soaking in the lesson given by the familiar voice of my pastor. fetching sweet brown eyes. all of that is the struggle & that's why i do "church" alone...at home with my laptop and last week's message.  in my cozy bed wearing flannels.

just me.  bible.  pen.  and God.

somehow, church makes my feel {exceptionally} vulnerable.  closer to God and His ways.  when i feel vulnerable, i {ugly}cry.  i cry ugly because i am lost without him in the chair next to me.  i cry ugly because he is so sick but his body cannot let go.  i cry ugly because i am learning my ways are nothing like His ways.  i cry mercy for God to make it all better {my better, not His}.  i cry for peace & rest in the middle of all of the scary shit going on right here.  right now.

i don't do church well right now.  but i think God knows that.  and i know my faith and our relationship are not based upon my checking off boxes each week to prove i am a following and believing in Him.  no, it was that promise forever ago that i made, and keep making in the dark of this season that says i will trust and follow Him..to the end even if it doesn't lead me into a church every sunday morning.

dear church.

i cannot do you right now.

life is vulnerable for me & when i feel vulnerable, i {ugly}cry.

 and all the tasks it takes for me to be sitting in a chair inside you

is overwhelming because of all that is so familiar, yet i am walking it alone-without pjm.

i thanks{giving} your messages are online.

i am blessed & strengthened by them,

but still am not strong enough to tackle you without him.

signed.

MIA member

dear God.

thanks{giving} for your grace.

i need not feel guilty for not visiting "your house" on sunday.

when truly you are here with me in my home. each moment. every day.

watching me in the darkest of night & brightness of days.

love & faithfulness.

dweller in the house of the Lord 

practical{ly} coping

People tell me I am so strong as I travel this path with pjm.  First, I must admit this was never a path I would have chosen to walk down but I promised him & Him I would honor my marriage in sick & health.  Second,  I am not sure what my other options are.  It isn't like a multiple choice test and I can pick A through D or that all-time favorite “E-none of the above”.  How fabulous would that be!  Oh God, actually I would like choice “C” which reads “happy & healthy until you two are 89 and 100 years old” instead of choice D…which of course reads “dementia”.  Just re-bubble in the answer on the scantron of my life.

Along with those age old "de-stressors" like eating right, exercising three times a week for at least 30 minutes, staying away from too much caffeine, and taking deep-cleansing breaths: three things help me cope.

1. Do something. ANYTHING.  The longer I sit & fester the scary my thoughts can become.  We live on 2 ½ acres & I have taken to mulching all the planters.  Crazy I know, but it keeps me busy.  So far I have loaded, unloaded, dumped and spread over 100-56 pound bags of mulch and all my planters aren't full yet!  Yes, there are more productive ways to spread mulch I am positive, but that's what works for me so that’s how I do it. It's more comfortable to just sit on the couch or in bed and stew about the twists and turns life takes, but physically doing something shifts my focus away from the crazy what ifs and after countless bags of mulch, I can take a step back and see the progress I have made.  

{it's kind of like rolling out the red carpet but in my planters...love, love, love}

  
 2. Counseling.  Go to therapy.  Seek a professional.  Friends are fabulous & the back bone of my support system but I realized I was stuck in all of the gloom. I needed a professional to help wade through the shitty parts of life.  Sometimes friends just like to stand in the shit with you which is what I want my friends to do-to stand in the gap and hold my hand while I wrestle with dementia & loss. But, honestly after a short time, I don't like being stuck knee deep in shit.  It stinks & flies love shit & I hate flies.  So I march myself therapy to learn new strategies on how to deal and grieve and step away from the shit pile.  

3. Medication.  Yep.  Some will raise an eyebrow at this one but there are nights when I board that crazy train and just can't get the conductor to press on the brakes!  Yes, I pray for calm & peace & plain old sleep but more often than I would like to admit...hours of restful shut-eye eludes me.  I talked to my doctor and she gave me a mild anti-anxiety pill to take on those nights.  Works like a charm. Take it & 20 minutes later I am sound asleep and wake in the morning ready to spread more mulch.

{please disregard the chipped nail polish-mulch has the potential to make a manicure messy}

dear mulch.

you look fabulous-so woody and brown.

thanks for making my planters rock.
i need more of you but it has been to damn hot as of late.

dear counselor.
thanks for shooing away the flies I abhor
while teaching me how to waddle out of all the crazy shit.
you are amazing at assisting in sifting thru worries vs. reality

and you never laugh or roll your eyes at my angst.

i would if i were you.

glad you are a heck of a lot more mature than me.

dear xanax.

you are a true friend in this season.
when the messy, out-loud life gets scary in the pitch of night,
you allow sleep till dawn.
the crazy, out-loud mess doesn't feel as daunting after a night of rest 
the morning light overtakes whats dark & scary.

dear God.
thanks for mulch, therapy and drugs.
they are true travel companions when life gets turbulent & days are steep
& I am knee deep in shit.
could you work out that thing with the flies?
they are truly annoying.
or perhaps it is Your way of pushing me to step out of the shit &
into your grace-strength-provision.

signed-
disliker of shit & flies

p.s.  I am not fond of that thing called dementia either

honoring dad...

dear children of ours-
i want to say a million things to you, and yet know none of them will fill that gap left in your lives.  it is so painful with your dad still so physically capable, yet stripped of the essence of what made him your dad.  i so want to wrap my arms around you and give wisdom of understanding while you grieve what has been lost, but i have no clue what it feels like to lose the man that allowed you to scream as babies "because it was your only form of exercise"; shared his passion for a "gwink" & the art behind the it; told you, with all sincerity after your first breakup {and subsequent ones}, that he/she just lost out on the best person ever; and left you, anxious & distressed, on the step of your freshman dorm knowing you could handle the university ahead of you.

as we awkwardly celebrate dad's on sunday, i want to call to mind those freshman drop-offs.  he loved taking you children to college with your entire life packed upon the four wheels of our suburban.  some of the joy was the drive itself.  that man loved to drive absolutely anywhere.  it gave him time to converse with you, divvying out final words of wisdom based on both his successes and failures.  once you pulled up to that said university, he would unload his own handcart & speedily place all your boxes in what you would call home for the next nine months.  once his task was done, he would issue a warm hug & peck on the cheek and reassure you that you were capable.  he would then turn and load himself {and that trusty handcart} in the suburban & drive off, with complete confidence in you.  left standing on the doorstep of your new life,  you quickly found your roots and a balance to living without him close by. he was always a phone call away with astute words of wisdom, an "i love you", and quiet confidence would hang in the air leaving you knowing he expected nothing short of success.

july 2008...a man & his children.

i realize now we as a family have been dropped off at the freshman dorm of lives.  dad packed lessons, love, and laughs into our hearts.  his legacy is what continues to bind us as a family & there is that sweet brown eyed brother who needs to experience dad; his wisdom, pranks and "peterisms" through each of us.  while he isn't a phone call away, his lessons are tucked orderly in our minds and we simply need to recall both the logic & integrity he used when tackling a challenge.  his "love yous" must live in our hearts & that confidence he expected will press us to strive in the challenges we face as a family and individually.  we must lean in on one another in the middle of this sick uncertainty while allowing each other to fumble through all the grief.

so on sunday, as we {and you} celebrate the day dedicated to dads, remember:
-walk after dinner.  it's way better than TV & makes for family time.
-always wear sunscreen.  the higher the SPF the better.
-date your spouse regularly.  it lets your kids know marriage is first & they come second.
-give back...to God, community, friends, strangers.
-invest in family...both immediate & extended.  one day you will need to lean in on them like we are learning in this season.

and have, his absolute favorite, a tanqueray-tonic with a squeeze of lime in honor of him!

cheers&love&hugs&tears.
mom.stepmom.chris

moving mountains...

i have prayed and journaled countless entries to God this past 18 months asking him why so much all at once.  a husband with an illness-a son moved to college-a daughter planning a wedding-a precious, rough and rowdy eight year old boy with a unsympathetic, and often fussy, teacher-financial challenges due to the economy-a mother's death...why God do you place this mountain of challenges in my life? 

God gently replies back..."if it were just one or two of those challenges, you would handle it all on your own".  this mountain has been placed in front of me to draw closed to God-to depend on him to provide the love, grace, strength and wisdom i desperately need.  i mumble prayers asking God to remove the challenges-to make my life easier...my priority is for my life to be easier but God's priority for my life is to strengthen me in the midst of my "mountain climbing".  When I look at it from His perspective i have a glimpse of why i am "stuck" in this phase of my life.

It parallels parenting...Jeremiah doesn't wonder how the meal makes it to the dinner table or where the money came from that purchased the food, he just sits down and looks at the plate of food and inquires how many bites he has to consume in order to have dessert.  i daily plop myself down at God's table and ask how many bites of this mountain do i have to swallow, before i can move on to the dessert portion of life.  God wants me to be nurtured by this phase of life and to count on him to provide so gracefully for me.

a slow leak...

a slow leak has been dripping inside of me. the drip drip dripping of God's word has begun to cause erode away the worldly heart at home in my body. last week helped me to see the "God growth" that has taken place within me. my prayers for the majority of my life have been a request for God to change the uncomfortable in my life. to take away-transform that which i struggled with. when i was little i prayed God would remove the bush outside my bedroom window that reminded me of an Indian that most surely would attack me while i was sleeping. silly, i know. i still go to God with very similar requests...remove this, take away that, change another. my requests always asked Him to change my circumstances so i can live more comfortably-more peacefully. after an event last week that would have normally ruffled this mama bird's feathers i realized growth-change-faith-trust in Him. this season of our Lyme's life has often brought out that Indian fearing little girl on a daily basis. but last week, i felt "God confidence" inside...knowing even in the circumstances i found myself facing, He was there. He cares. He loves me. He can and will do immeasurable more than i can imagine...i am thankful for the slow drip of God's love into my sweet baby girl soul and am full of excitement to see the beautiful work He will continue to work in and thru me...and my family during this season of Lyme's.