Fighting Dragons

It would be so nice if you could reach out and capture a day and hold it in place for a little longer, if you could take a net and gather up moments to store them for darker days. You can't but how nice if you could. 

Sarah has been home since the first of June. She leaves Saturday going back to Ohio where she lives with her dad. I know grandmothers are supposed to be used to the grandchildren living elsewhere, but Sarah spent her first 9 years in my home, sometimes with her parents, but much of it without them. So, to say there is an immense hole in my home and heart when she isn't here is an understatement. This month has given me back laughter and joy. 

I loved being a mom. I had so much fun with my boys and I missed it when they left. It has been the same with Sarah when she came into our lives. 

I'm always fascinated by kids. They're amazing creatures and watching their development, their mental growth is just awesome. Who and what they'll be is a mystery that is solved over time. If we're blessed, we'll see the solution. 

I am always stunned when I see myself in Sarah. We share a love of deep conversation. She's a skilled listener in those moments. I can't tell you when I've discussed issues of faith and prayer and the Bible so much with one person. She is open to discussion, and she asks questions. That's half the battle with teens. But she has far more understanding than I expect. Several years ago, I commented on this to her and she said; I listen when I am in church. It showed. Her attentiveness hasn't waned as I expected and this time with her has refreshed my spirit. It has reminded me of the late-night conversations with Mama and how we would sometimes talk for hours when everyone in the house was sound asleep. It is what I miss most about Mama. But Sarah has the gift.

We also share a similar sense of humor. She's always joking or saying things that have a humorous twist. I'm reminded of a text I read once that said humor is a sigh of intelligence. I'm not talking about playing pranks or making fun of people, that's shifts into psychopathy. Genuine humor isn't about that. She's mastered the art of understatement and I've often been nearly hysterical at things she says.

The month has done more than give me some happiness. I've regained a fragile hope. You worry, you know. When they go through dark times, you worry they won't come out of it. Many children don't. She's lived through a lot of dark times in 16 years. She's done some really stupid things. Children do that. It is how they grow. Life is a series of tests. But what I've seen in the last month, tells me the Sarah I know is still in there. The humor, kindness, compassion, and love I've always seen in her is intact. But she's fighting dragons. And fighting dragons is exhausting. However, seeing the craving for understanding the Bible, her  desire to grow her faith, and her desire to learn more are positive signs that she will not let the dragons eat her. Not without a fight.

Dragons are real. They come in all shapes, sizes, and guises. Facing them takes tremendous determination, strength, and courage. I know this from experience. Thank goodness I had a Sword and Shield and Mama. 

As our time ends, I see a strength in Sarah that I feared she did not have. She's fighting dragons between moments of despair. But she's fighting.

Jerry and I tried to provide our sons with the same weapons. I may have failed them, but I hope not. Still, I made a greater effort to arm Sarah with weapons that could slay dragons. I've spent more time sharing my battles with dragons. We're so afraid of letting our children know about the dragons we face and the battles we lost. That's a mistake. If you want to encourage your children to fail, don't let them see your dragons. And hide your scars. Pretend there are no dragons. Tell them they're the problem, not dragons. Send them out with no warning, no defense, and no faith in them. 

Dragons will eat them.

Ten Holidays

So, another Christmas done. I'm not sorry. I was blessed to have Becca, Sarah, and Madilyn with me and my sister came by for Christmas dinner. It was such fun watching Madi get so excited over the tree and presents. Sarah, of course, is an old hand at all that stuff and getting her excited is a lot harder. Of course, she had fewer gifts this year but she did get things she asked for and so I think she was fine with it.

Becca brought Madi over on the 23rd to stay until the 26th and we decided we'd get Madi's presents wrapped and under the tree after she went to bed. Sarah's were already there when they arrived.

Madi kept asking me where her presents were and I told her they'd be here "tomorrow", on Christmas Eve. I felt so sad because it was evident that this 3 yr old could understand that something was off with the presents. But she trusts me so she didn't really make a fuss.

Christmas Eve, when I came down the hall to the living room, Madi met me grinning and grabbed my hand. "Mawmaw, Santa brought me and you presents last night! Come and see!" I thought it was sweet she thought I was included in those presents. I wasn't but it wasn't about me anyway. She was vibrating with excitement and the rest of the day we struggled to keep her from opening them all. We showed her her name on them and spelled it out for her. She knew exactly which ones were hers. We did let her open two hoping to appease her but by sunset, we were done and we opened them.

Both girls seemed to enjoy their gifts. Sarah got her ITunes gift cards and bluetooth headset and books. Madi got the kind of things 3 yr olds get: PlayDoh, colors and coloring books, and baby doll stuff.

The girls went home tonight. Sarah to spend a few days with her mom before going back to school. I am home alone. As I took the photo of the tree, I thought of all the Christmases I've had alone since Jerry died. There have been 10 Thanksgivings, 10 Christmases, 10 New Years, 10 anniversaries, 10 Valentine's Days. Oh, some family have been here for the day here and there but always, at the end of the celebration, I sit in front of the tree and try to find a glimmer of something that feels like a holiday. Eventually, I think of all the Christmases that may lie ahead and well, we'll leave it there.

I'm not wallowing in pity. I had my annual grief cry today and visited Jerry at the cemetery. I stayed a long time and just sat in the car and listened to a podcast as I watched the grave stones in the VA cemetery. Some had wreaths, some had flowers and some had nothing. There were a few new graves. Jerry needs new flowers and I promised to bring them this week.  I don't know if it matters, actually, but it does to me.

It made me sad to see the forgotten ones. Once I wondered who'd put flowers on my grave regularly and realized that I'm the end. There will be no one left here for that. Well, if that ain't the story of my life. Of course, there won't be anyone to put them on his either. That's bothers me.

Treasures

I found this in the papers I cleaned out a couple of months ago. There is no date but I suspect he was about Sarah's age (10).

Things like this were always important to me and so I hung on to them. No one else cares now but I'll put them all in a file with dozens of letters from family members, some who are already gone. Jerry kept some cards the boys gave him and I still have them. They were important to him, too. Whoever is left at the end of the day can put them all in the garbage.

I'm on the downhill side of my life and I've lost so many of the people who gave my life meaning. Going through the debris left in the wake of living often brings surprises. Running across such things brightens a moment of time.  A bright face seems to just appear, in a twinkling, blinking out before you can grab hold and pull it close.

 Life changes so quickly. You don't see it coming. You anticipate the joys but you can't anticipate the pain.

Just so you know, you won't always get love letters or phone calls. You won't always have someone to tell you they love you. In fact, some of the people who used to tell you will stop long before either of you leave the world. I love you very much.... How long? Only children can make that promise because for them life is long. For those of us who live long, we know nothing is forever. People change, love ends, life ends, and you can't change it or stop it.

So, finding treasures such as this will warm your heart or it may cut it out of you. They're still treasures. Keep them. And if you had one person loved you for even a short span of your life, you're a rich person.

Remembering The Rules

Today I was reading a set of penalties posted on Facebook for parents to use with their kids. It focused on doing good things to earn points to revoke grounding. It was a brilliant idea. It reminded me of the set of "rules" we posted on our refrigerator for our sons when they were teenagers. When they got in trouble they had to read them and specifically focus on the item that applied to their situation. It was posted on the fridge for years and I remember when they finally moved out, I took it down and the paper was all stiff and the ink faded but it was still legible.

As I read over them again today it reminded me that I wasn't a terrible parent. I did do some things right and now, years after I wrote and posted these rules, I can look at my sons and realize that despite their flaws, we didn't do a terrible job. If I compare the positive with the negative I can see that something got through to them. I see caring and compassion men who show respect for others, well, most of the time. No one is perfect here. They love their country and respect its laws and as far as possible, its leaders. They believe in the rights of others and when those rights are infringed, they are incensed. They recognize the dangers of tyranny and want to fix it. 

They love God. This has always been so important to us. We saw how the world was failing and we feared that they would stray far away from their faith and never find their way back. And they did stray but we also watched, with great fear, as they struggled to return to that faith and to reinstate the values we tried to instil in them. We often feared the struggle would end in failure. Their dad is dead now but I know, were he alive, he'd feel so relieved at some of the changes in his sons. He'd be so proud of them.

I am blessed with good boys. There are things I'd change if I could but they became who they are because of who we were and how we raised them. And if there is something I don't understand about them or can't accept, I have to deal with that.  As adults, it is up to them to fine tune their character if it needs it. I hope we gave them the tools to do that. Reading those rules and seeing the results of our work, I think we might have done. I hope so.

Rules of Respect

1. Show courtesy to everyone. Please, Thank you, Sir, M’am, You’re welcome, and excuse me, are all keys that open doors. Everyone likes respect. You get what you give.
2. Ask first. Do not take something that is not yours. If you “borrow” without asking, it is stealing. Get permission
3. Wait your turn. Do not interrupt others when they are talking. Or, if you are not part of the conversation and need to speak to someone, “excuse me” is an appropriate way to get their attention if you have waited for several minutes.
4. Know who’s in charge. If you see a need or problem, do not give orders – find the person in charge and politely mention the problem. If you have not been put specifically in charge, allow the person in charge to give the orders.
5. Refuse to argue. Ask if you can quietly discuss the problem. The Bible says “a soft answer turneth away wrath.” Usually, it is hard to yell at someone who won’t yell back. After a while they get tired. Remember, sometimes it doesn’t work, especially if you have wrecked the car or broken curfew.
6. Allow the other person to be right. No one is right all the time but neither are they always wrong. YOU could be wrong. It is more embarrassing to loudly declare you’re right and be proven wrong than it is to keep your mouth shut and let others loudly declare when you are right.
7. Offer help. If someone is ill, physically unable to do a chore, or simply needs an extra pair of hands, offer to help. Do not wait to be asked. Offer kindly. If your help is refused, say nothing and allow them to do it themselves. If asked -- give your help to the best of your ability.
8. Respect other’s privacy. Do not ask questions about someone’s personal life unless it will affect you personally. For example: You do not need to know about someone’s sex life unless you plan to have sex with them. Do not tell secrets you have been told unless there is a danger involved or a crime. Do not listen in on others’ conversations uninvited. Do not tell something you have overheard in a private conversation. Would you want someone to tell your secrets?
9. Do unto others. If you want kindness, give it. If you want love, give it. If you want help, give it. If you want friendship, give it. If you want understanding, give it. If you want fairness, give it. If you want truth, give it. If you want joy, give it. If you want peace, give it. If you don’t want any of this, do nothing and you’ll get nothing.
10. Overlook the jerks. There will ALWAYS be someone who defies all of the above. And because of it, no matter what you do, it will never be enough or it will always be wrong – to them. Walk away and smile. If you have done your best and followed the rules, you have won anyway. Always, always, always let them go before you. When the axe falls, it will be their head that rolls.

You have been taught a set of values. If you choose to abandon these, we will not avert the consequences of your actions. If you get arrested, we will not bail you out; if you catch a disease, we cannot cure you or even get expensive medical care. Adult behavior requires adult responsibility. You are on your own when you set your own values and rules of behavior. If they conflict with our moral code, you must move out and support yourselves. We will still love you but we made our choices before you were born. We have not changed our minds since then and will not do so now. As a result, we may lose you but if we give in, not only will we lose you but we will also lose ourselves.

A Letter to the Lost One

Hi,

Not many people know this about me. I don't talk about it. I have only mentioned it in passing a few times in my whole life, when the subject came up. 

In 1978 Jerry and I were living in Germany. We had been married five years. We'd never managed to get pregnant during that time and since we suddenly had insurance, we went to have tests run. We were thinking about adopting but wanted to be sure first. One of my test was a God-awful biopsy. My doctor was a nice Indian man named Abrol. I liked him. Just as he was about to preform the test. He said, "This will be like a bee sting." 

That was a lie. It hurt so bad that I couldn't even scream. I just gasped. I remember that so clearly.

Shortly after the test was run, within weeks, I actually became pregnant. When I went back to my doctor and he said, "I hope your husband doesn't blame me for this." I cracked up, he blushed when he realize how it sounded, and the nurse gasped and said, "DR. ABROL!" Then we all laughed. I was so happy.

I had the usual sick feeling, no vomiting. I also got clumsy, actually fell a couple of times, and I had vision issues when I tried to read. The text would go blurry. I went for an exam and it didn't reveal anything wrong. Ten weeks later, they put me in the hospital because they thought I was going to miscarry.

I was so scared. Everyday they came to do a test to see if you were still alive. And every day I was frightened they'd come in and say, "No." Finally, about a week after my admission, they came in and said you were dead. 

I was devastated. Five years I'd waited and then, you were snatched away. 

I remember the Catholic chaplain coming into the ward and stopping by my bed. I was staring out the window, with silent tears running down my face. He sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulders and talked to me. I do not remember what he said to me. I only remember how grateful I was for his presence.

They told me that they had to preform a D & C because you did not leave willingly. Afterward, I remember waking up and seeing your dad and asking, "Is it over?" He caught my hand and said, "Yes." I wept. I see it clear as a picture. Now that he's gone, I see a lot of things clear as day. 

For a long time I wondered if you were really dead at that point. Had they made a mistake?Did I actually have an abortion. And I cringe at the thought. Crazy, huh?

I always thought you were a girl. I don't know why. It just felt right. It still does. I don't know if you had blue eyes or green ones, if you would be left handed like me or right handed like him. For a long time I wondered such things. From time to time, I still do. Would you be a tomboy, like me? Or would you be a fine princess?

After I went home I cried for days and I had nightmares about losing you. In my dreams I'd be looking everywhere for you. For weeks. They gave me pills to help. I ended up flushing them down the toilet one day when I found myself considering taking the whole bottle. I decided if I could't get through it without pills then it wouldn't be worth the effort.

Never, in all these years have I stopped thinking about you. Oh, not like I did at first. But you come to my mind now and then and I wonder all over again, what kind of person you would have become. A doctor? A teacher? A famous author? Who would you have married? How many children would you have had? So many questions I would love to have answers to but you never had the chance to even form them.

Recently it occurred to me that at last he got to meet you. He knows the color of your hair, your eyes, and if you have dimples. I had no doubt that that would have been a joyous reunion. And I was jealous. Jealous that I never had the chance to hold you and rock you and sing to you. Jealous that I didn't get to see his face when you met for the first time. 

I hope they have photos in heaven and someone remembered to take that one.

Is Anyone Watching?

Today is a work holiday for me and I've spent all morning doing virtually nothing. I swept bathrooms, hallway and kitchen. I'll vacuum the rugs soon. I also cleaned toilets. But that's it.

No one noticed my efforts but Sarah, my 6 year old granddaughter. She's been with me for the weekend. She asked me why I was sweeping floors and cleaning the toilets. Sarah's a bit messy for a 6 year old so maybe she didn't understand the need... or health concerns.

I find it odd that she didn't notice the toilet was very dirty but she did notice last night that her dad left the sink dirty. I took a Clorox (c) wipe and quickly cleaned that up. She said, "You shouldn't be cleaning up after him." I just looked at her and thought carefully about my response. One side of my brain wanted to agree with her. Thankfully, the more intelligent side responded. "Well, he's paying rent and helps with other things. That's how people are supposed to do it. They work together." I know for a fact that this was a bone of contention before her parents' divorce in Sarah's home with her non-working Mom and working Dad. I've heard it more than once. Obviously, Sarah did, too.

Does anyone but me see the dirty toilet and sink? Did anyone but me notice the floors needed sweeping? Probably not since no one comes to my home but my family. My sons are blind to dirt. Really. Probably because they never saw it growing up. I was a stay at home mom for about 15 years. I noticed but the male contingent never saw a dirty house. Would I have noticed had it been someone else's home? Um... I'd have noticed that toilet, let me tell you, but it took me days before I noticed it last night. I think I would have noticed the sink, too. So, yes, I think, if a stranger had come to my home, they'd have noticed.

For me that's the problem. I'm overly sensitive to all this stuff. I see all the details of a messy house and it completely disrupts my ability to cope. I think everyone could see it. I know everyone would see it. So, it needs to be dealt with and disposed of quickly. Sometimes, though, I look past obvious things.

I didn't see what a six year old noticed. She didn't really see the dirt in the sink but she noticed a female household member cleaning up after a male household member. She immediately parroted a response with which I happen to disagree. It is a response based on twisted relationships. I have a problem with that kind of mentality. If there's a mess and you see it, you don't leave it for someone else, no matter who made the mess. Should people clean up their own mess? Yes. But in real life they often don't. I've had people clean up messes I made. If I see trash in the floor at my office, I simply bend down and pick it up. I didn't drop it. There are 12 other people there who could have but ignoring it won't make it go away. We work together. I am sure someone in that office has picked up my mess. In fact, I know it.

Is anyone watching? I think so. It is why I hate the house getting dirty. I'm tired a lot when I get home so cleaning lives up to the word "chore" for me. It is difficult for me to do more than 4 hours of housework. But I do it. Now there's two of us but actually, David is only mildly messy. His problem is in the follow up.

It is hard to live with someone else after years alone. I've talked to David about various things I'd like him to do, for himself and for me. He may or may not do them. I work to not get annoyed because the reality is, he hasn't got anywhere else to go. We discuss it and he tries a bit harder but he's not there yet. Surprising since he is pretty OCD and used to have the cleanest room in the house. What happened to him, I wonder? And then I listen to Sarah give orders to her father as if he were her servant rather than her parent. Where did she learn that behavior? What kind of relationship is it that demands all from one and none from the one demanding?

Sarah was playing with a couple dolls not too long ago and was heard to say, "My friends matter more and if you don't like it you can leave." Maybe when you become invisible, you don't notice the dirt.

I mean, is anyone really watching? Yes, they are.

Reaching The Pinnacle

Tuesday, second day of the work week when we look with relish at a past Monday and longing toward an approaching weekend. I basically envision myself climbing this steep cliff, hands bloodied, nails broken, gasping for breath and stretching to grasp the pinnacle of Wednesday and drag myself over the top so I can roll down the gentle, grassy slope to Friday evening.

I'm contemplating how on earth I can skip Wednesday and just get right to that slope.

Whatever. Week is not half done but I am.

I noticed the ticker at the bottom says I've topped 20,000. What? No trumpets? No parade? No ticker tape? No balloons, streamers, or cheers? Well.

Still, I like seeing stats. One thing I noticed right away was that my post from 2008 "A Little Bit of Gun History" had hits. This may seem random but if it does you live in a cave. I actually didn't remember writing it and had to do read it. I found it interesting but then questioned my sources. Really.

It has been a horrendous week for the people of Connecticut. And probably for most of the nation. I've avoided all news but a minimum number of articles reporting it. I'm not watching videos, tributes, and reading interviews with survivors. I have a six year old grand-daughter. I can't be dragged into the hell these parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and siblings are living. I simply can't. I see a shinning, smiling face with sparkling eyes of a bubbling little girl that holds my heart in her hands. I am totally incapable of dealing with this horror because her face is superimposed at every mention of this horrible disaster. The promise of Christmas has been obliterated for the survivors and there is no fixing it. I can only pray for them, pray for us all.

I still have no tree up. No decorations, either. I moved things around over the weekend with the help of my sons. We put the freezer in the garage. I am amazed at how much of a relief that was! I need it but it is such a nuisance to have in the house. I still have to clean out a closet for David. I'm planning on doing that this week. Unfortunately, the events of the weekend left me almost completely unable to move on Sunday. I pushed hard Thursday through Saturday to get this done, not stopping for much of anything. The price was pain that is not on any scale. I could barely walk at all Sunday and movement of any kind was misery. 

I bought stuff for our Christmas dinner. Thankfully, I have the weekend to prepare so it shouldn't be such a rush. I have to put up any decorations soon or I might as well not bother.

May I be perfectly honest? I really, really, really do not like holidays anymore. Truly. Even though I enjoy Sarah's excitement and pleasure I truly find them unbearably painful and tedious. I don't have anything to celebrate. I'm thankful for my family and my home and my job every day of the year but the memories I have of holidays are all bad and getting through November to February is just very hard.  

We don't even bother much with gifts anymore. I mean, I usually give the boys their gift in the form of money weeks before the holiday, at their request. They buy what they want. No one but my aunt generally buys me anything, maybe my sister who lives here, but other than that, I don't unwrap a thing. There is no one special for me to buy for but Sarah and I do that all the time anyway. So, in essence I'm putting myself through a grinder for nothing. It is very disheartening when all the things that sparkled and shone in your life is pretty much tarnished and rusted out and you no longer feel important to anyone. 

And with that, I'll stop. I have an hour to get my work done. It isn't enough. But tomorrow I will reach that pinnacle, Wednesday. I'll bandage the hands and drift down the hill... one hopes, to the weekend when I'll be off four days, work one and be off another four days. For that, I am truly thankful.

The Minds of Children

If the world can survive until this young lady becomes an adult, the world will see an amazing leader in Canada! 

And if there are other adolescents with this kind of concern for their nations who will make the effort to change it, the nations might just survive. 

A Jumble of Stuff

I have a four day weekend to look forward to. I've spent the last two hours sitting here reading blogs, Facebook, and G+ posts and drinking a cup of coffee. I have no plans for the day. Sue will come soon and clean house for me.

It . . . is . . . COLD in S Indiana! A chilly 46F!  For over a week temps ranged near 80F most days. Now, I need a jacket. I am hoping tomorrow will be a bit more comfortable. I must acknowledge that the day is beautiful through the window. Brilliant sunshine and a lovely blue sky. It is just that the breeze is cold.

Easter is this weekend. Church will be very hectic I suspect. We will probably have a lot of children and that changes the dynamics of the service. So, while I will go I don't know how I'll enjoy it. I have not got eggs to dye yet but I will try to  get them tonight. I don't think Becca even has a basket for Sarah at this point. Must be sure that she gets one. The yard is perfect for egg hunting.

My week has gone swiftly because I was busier than a hive of bees. An increase in files to manage is going to mean I'm constantly running to keep up. This is not a good thing as I've come home totally exhausted and unable to unwind. I'm really tired this morning because I sat up late but I woke at my usual time! I didn't get up until 8:30 or so but still, that seems early. I went to bed around 12:30 last night. I was watching t.v. shows.

Sarah was over for a bit with her parents. She is just growing up so fast. So funny. They went to the store to get us burgers and we watched t.v. We were watching a very old Popeye cartoon. This couple got married and the preacher said "I now pronounce you man and wife." Sarah didn't miss a beat and deadpanned, "Husband and wife" and looked at me. I, of course, agreed.

Play-doh may have to be put up for a while. She makes such a mess but just loves to play with it. I need to try a floor cloth before I do that but the last one I had didn't seem to matter. It is all over this messy carpet. I need to get rid of it.

Will I write this weekend? I hope so. My plan is to do so. I haven't done anything in a month and that is frustrating.

My blogs have become increasingly boring. I think there is just not much going on. I've planned to take off the second week of May to go on a canoe trip with my family in Florida. I also am planning a trip to the beach for a day at least. So, a few weeks and I can have a nice relaxing break... yeah. You all know how those have gone in the past.