Am I the only one?

It's Friday the 13th today.
I'm planning on having a fabulous day.

Fun Holiday??!!

Last Saturday I learned that this holiday exists.
Like who comes up with these things?
Why would one celebrate ditching their New Year's Resolutions and who would consider giving up fun?
Okay, I don't make them but consider replacing the NYR with goals.

Are you really willing to just give up after 17 days? 17 DAYS??!!!

I am a goal setter.
Many of mine are the short term goals.
My goals for today, tomorrow, this week, this month.
I am a serious maker of lists.
Written or highlighted in colors. I do love color and lists that show accomplishments.
I have written goals for where I want to be at the end of the year and in 5 years.

Way back when I needed to see accomplishments that were hard won, my lists were even more broken down. Wash Laundry. Fold Laundry. Put Laundry Away. In the middle of feeding little people, changing diapers, wiping spills, giving hugs/kisses, running bigger kids to and from numerous places .... it was sometimes the only progress I could see. In those days where accomplishments were hard to see, it helped.

Do I always achieve everything on my lists of today?
Absolutely not!
There are some that get carried over to the next day, week, month or year.
Sometimes it depends on the level of my distraction, other times life just interferes and other things take a place of importance. That's sorta life.
Does that mean I just make a national day for giving up on all of them?

Not if I want to get anything done or reach personal/professional goals in my life.

I'm a getter donner kind of gal.
I need lists to help me focus on what I need to get done or it just twirls around in my brain and gets lost in there somewhere.
I may put off things that are most uncomfortable for me. (I'm working on that and it hurts.)

A National Give It All Up Cuz You're Tired of Trying Day?
Nope. Never.
That's sad.

Certainly doesn't teach our children much about sticktoittiveness. 

Happy Go Get 'Em Day!

Just in case you're inclined to celebrate this holiday, I'll help you out. It falls on January 17 every year. It doesn't follow the moon, sun or snow patterns. Same month. Same day. Every. Year.

grandma memories

Sprinkled everywhere are these small pieces of nature that bring you straight back to childhood.

I saw these flowers and they spoke grandma to me in a most quiet way.

A huge (I now wonder how large it actually was) patch of flowers grew next to her house.

Our house was in the same yard as hers for all of my childhood.

I looked at these flowers and instead saw

grandma sitting on her front porch steps watching grands play or travelers come and go

an elderly woman in one of the same 3 dresses sitting on the wooden swing out in the yard

her toys for the kids that included the metal tops of juice cans 

(we were happy with those little extras that filled our worlds)

the opening of the closet door under the stairs that held her meager wardrobe 

and the scent that came out of that small space each time the door opened

the same kitchen curtains that never changed my entire life

I saw and felt so very many things when I spied these flowers.

It wasn't until I went to write this post that I remembered.

She didn't have these flowers growing next to her house.

What grew there was Black Eyed Susans.

And now I'm not so sure of even that.

Why is it that our memory is capable of conjuring up so many things and then questions others as if in a complete state of confusion.

Does it really matter if the memories that come flooding back with this small piece of nature

are warm and loving ones?

the great wall of anita

I started this post several months ago.
This is how it started.

Last week I cried.

Finally.

And this may sound odd to you, but I was so relieved to finally be able to do that.

Recently, visiting with that friend of the heart, the topic of my wall came up and perhaps it is time to finish this post .. or try.

Why do we as human beings build walls around ourselves? I know it isn't the way it is suppose to be, but sometimes it is the only way we can survive. 

Somewhere deep inside each of us, whether you admit it or not, is the total of our life experiences. It doesn't matter if we've grown up, matured and are no longer the same people we were .. the experiences are woven into each of us. So are the responses to those experiences. Instinctively, we head straight back to those responses when a similar situation arises.

I remember very well nearly losing my mind in grief a number of years ago. It was the most traumatic experience of my life to that point and it was difficult to keep the thread to sanity. While many of my responses came from much further back than that, it was that experience that probably started the building of a wall. Not just a wall that looks like a white picket fence, but a wall that was reinforced steel or concrete. Or whatever you reinforce. Nobody was getting in no way no how. I couldn't afford to let that happen again.

Then life just added more challenges and more trials. Please don't get me wrong. There are many joys sprinkled in among the challenges. There are so many blessings and moments of happiness .. or the trials would be overwhelming. In the last several years, they were what I considered biggies. And even though there were a few select people in my world with whom I could share, for the most part I could not. It had to be kept inside and quiet. Do you have any idea what that does for the wall? When you can't talk? When you sit in a room full of people and want to scream your story and you can't. So you talk about the inane things of life. You talk about the equivalent of the weather and it all seems so incredibly trivial. It seems like a waste of time because your gut and your heart have serious things going on. All you want to do is talk and you can't.

No, I haven't been told by anyone that I can't talk. No one person or group of people said I had to keep my mouth shut. Sometimes, the story isn't yours alone and you don't have the right to share. Sometimes, there might be an ongoing process in place that requires discretion.

At what point then does it seem useless to spend time around other people? I don't mean useless, because there is much more to life than just my issues. There are many things to share with others and joys to be had. But it gets easier to just be alone. That isn't a bad thing either. I am very happy alone. I have many things to keep me occupied. The problem is that along with way I've lost people. I have not picked up the phone to call friends and my phone doesn't often ring.

I finally had enough. I walked an emotional line that was level straight. No ups and no downs. It was like being medicated without pharmaceuticals. I had learned to self medicate by burying things so deep you couldn't get to them. Easier that way, right? Not exactly. Eventually it comes out somewhere. It has to. In a gall bladder. In a hip. It finds an outlet. It was time to start figuring it out. It was time to start taking those steel walls apart and hopefully someday, view the wall as a picket fence.

I spent hours on the phone doing some emotion code therapy and I started to laugh again. I could cry again. This road isn't over for me but there is progress. The wall isn't gone but perhaps there is a chink in it. While we were in North Dakota in March, I made an appointment to see someone who also does the same sort of thing with some added other stuff I really don't understand. As difficult as that first step was ... it was amazingly unbelievable. I have to say that grief poured from the depths of my soul. That road hasn't reached its end yet either. It needs more energy than I can give it right now, it needs to be taken a stretch at a time. Or as this process is often referred to as the peeling of an onion .... one layer at a time.

At some point, I have learned a few other things. How very hard a road can be. For the most part, my road has been filled with some frost heaves. There has been no major earthquake damage on the road I travel. No tsunami has wiped out my road completely. While I try to navigate the frost heaves of my own heart and mind, I struggle to to help others find their way through the crevices caused by earthquakes in their lives.

Take care of yourself my friend.

From out of nowhere

it came to visit.

Then I thought about it and I realized it has been here.
I have done an incredible job of controlling my environment.
I attempt to surround myself with things that bring me peace and calm.
I can handle many things, including those things that make one incredibly strong and empathetic to certain situations.
I handled all of it.

Then I added one more course to the plate.
It's like not knowing when you've eaten everything and are full to the brim, so you take another piece of pie just 'cuz it sounds like a great idea ... and the pie tips you right over the edge.

I haven't decided yet to return the pie to the refrigerator ....

White going brown??!!

Apparently, the last thing I clean around here is my master bathroom mirror. Please excuse that.

These were taken before I cleaned. Serious.

That white streak of hair there? I have grown to like it. I have stress induced alopecia at times in my life. It gets a little challenging when it is on the crown of my head and I have to figure out how to hide that one. Other times, I end up with random spots on my scalp that lose hair. It comes back. Sometimes with the use of steroids, sometimes oils, sometimes just plain ol' grows back.

I sort of named that white streak. I can't share the name with you, but it showed up at a great emotional cost. And, seriously, I have grown to like that little bugger! It has sort of been a badge of honor of sorts. A reminder of what was.

Several days ago I realized that the roots are not white anymore! What??!! That white streak is "growing out" and before long will disappear with hair cuts. My sister told me when this happened, that now every hair I lost was going to be replaced with this luxurious white. Apparently, nature had another idea!

I think there is a message in there. (Other than those mismatched switches on the wall.)

We all walk through troubled times in our lives. When it is done it is done. When it is over it is over. I fear, realistically, that there may be more white spots coming, but it looks like this story might be in its final chapter. Who am I to rewrite the book that God has written. I have had the privilege of long distance meeting someone who has helped me greatly. Through emotional release therapy by telephone, I am in a much happier place today. My thoughts are softer, kinder and gentler. They don't seem to be stuck like a warped cd, running the same track over and over again in my mind. I no longer sit and stare into space, too mentally and emotionally exhausted for simple thought. I am learning to laugh again. Slowly. That was my hope when I started this process. To be able to laugh. To be able to cry. I was existing like an automaton, going through the motions of living while my mind was stuck in an unhealthy place, dwelling on things that were not in my control. They affected my entire being and I didn't believe there was anything I could do about it. But there was. There always is. Isn't the Serenity Prayer a great lesson to each of us that struggles?

God,
grant me the SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change,
the COURAGE to change the things I can,
and the WISDOM to know the difference.

Serenity: a state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled.

Serenity is what I was in search of. Serenity is what I was in need of.
Slowly ... I think I am finding some semblance of that peace and calm.

a new day to start the new year

In all likelihood, I have lived more than half of my life.

Statistically, I probably have a whole lot less days than that left on earth.

365 days of blank slate lie before me if that is God's plan for my life.

I'm sitting in the recliner chair this morning with my feet up wondering what I should do with them.

I typically don't let too much grass grow under my feet, but am I walking with the wind or bucking the tide?

What am I really suppose to be doing?

There are certainly obligations that are non negotiable.

They are sort of like breathing.

What about the rest of it?

Did I spend the past year being my best me?

That could be a whole dissertation.

One that I have promised myself to start writing about.

Maybe you can learn something from my walk.

Maybe you won't feel alone in yours.

So this year I will spend some time in quiet. Let my thoughts go where they will. It might be a scary place to live ... we shall see!

I craft for my mental health. I craft because I love to. I craft because I do.

That isn't going to stop as long as I have life in me.

This year I will try to share more projects with you.

Relationships.

Another dissertation in the making.

This year I am going to work at them. My heart rate just kicked up with the typing of that sentence and it wasn't a  just completed a marathon and am thrilled kind of heart rate jump. 

This year I plan to take more time to soak in the beautiful world that surrounds me.

This year let joy outshine sorrow and hope triumph over fear.

As another blank page waits to be written, let the lines I accumulate be ones caused by laughter and not tears. Let the gray hairs be carried in on wings of joy, not despair. Let me be thankful for the blessings of each day given by God.

May your New Year be filled with grace, peace, love and joy.


** Interesting that as I was uploading a different photo to this post my computer just quit. Stopped. Needed to reboot itself in the middle of adding that photo. I guess it wasn't suppose to be the photo I ended this post with and this post wasn't about that photo. As it came back up, everything else was there but that one photo. I listened. I think this post was about the one it let me load. 

parenting the adult child

I am bothered.
Bothered by a comment made to someone that wasn't me.
Bothered because it hits a little close to home.
Bothered because you don't understand.

I never understood why perpetrators of sexual assault and rape could be allowed to roam free and prey on other people.
I never understood how that could be allowed to happen.
I never understood why one wouldn't do everything in their power to stop them.

I do understand that today's society is a different one that it was 20, 50 or for sure 100 years ago. Maybe even 10 years ago.
And most unfortunately, still today in so many segments of different populations.
As a parent, it would be my inclination to go after the person using the legal system and put them away.
As a parent, I wouldn't want someone else's child to go through what mine did.

There are people who hold the opinion that a certain segment of society likes to "sweep things under the rug". Admittedly, I believe at one time that was true. I also believe that victims were told to keep their mouths shut. None of that is right, nor has it ever been. If you were a victim of that kind of attitude, you were wrongly treated. You can use it as a crutch for the rest of your life and be angry about it or you can choose to move on. That is up to you. If you decide to use it as a crutch ... you're not making progress.

This isn't about that segment of society, because I am not that person. I am not that parent. Today I am the parent who wants justice. I am the parent who wants someone stopped.

I want you to understand that it isn't my choice.

As a parent, I would support the decision of my child whatever it was in this regard. And as hard as it is, I would somehow find peace with that decision. I would never tell them to shut up. I would never tell them to hide it under a rug.

What they decide to do is not my choice. It is theirs.

I'm not talking about children who are under the legal age of 18. I'm not talking about children who need me to be their legal backbone. I'm not talking about a situation where I am the adult making those decisions.

I'm talking about an adult who has the right to make those decisions themselves. They have a right to be heard by their parents. They have a right to be supported by those parents. They have a right to make those decisions themselves with full knowledge of consequences.

I really was simplistic in my thinking. Just file a report and get on with it.
Make sure this person is stopped, gets some help and pays for their crime.

And now I can understand how a perpetrator is allowed to continue.
Because you just don't file a report.
You don't just march into the police station and do something about it.

That doesn't mean something was swept under the rug.
It doesn't mean you were told you couldn't do something about it.
It doesn't mean you were told not to press charges.

You may have been encouraged to press charges with the assurance that your parents would stand beside you through the entire process.
They would gladly hold your hand and heart in public and in private.
It means that regardless of the emotional support you have around you, you can't do it.
And it is up to you.
It isn't up to me.
You are the adult.
I am here to help you through whatever that decision is.

I can pressure you. Sure, I can.
I can pressure you until your mind can no longer handle it and you find release somewhere.
Maybe it will be a complete break with reality.
Perhaps you will find solace in the bottom of a bottle or at the tip of a needle.
Or perhaps you'll pursue unhealthy relationships that fill that broken part of you.

Is that the best alternative for my adult child?
What if they can't handle the thought of a long drawn out legal system?
What if they aren't able or willing to put themselves through that?
There could be a myriad of reasons they are not willing or able to pursue the legal system.
Then what?

What are we as parents then suppose to do?
I'm sure some of you have some great ideas.
Maybe some of them are really good ones. Maybe some of them are knee jerk reactions that are coming straight from a gut that just flipped inside out.
What is the best thing I can do to help my adult child?

Maybe we as parents are completely wrong in what we have chosen to do.
But this is it.
We are supporting their decision.
We are listening to them when they are able to open up.
We are ensuring they get the best help available in the way of counseling and therapy.
Our desire is for our adult child to have a life that is full.
Not full of hatred and horror, but a life full of promise and hope.

patience

pa·tience   ˈpāSHəns/

noun

1. 1. 

   the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.

Recently we have learned a new skill. Somehow our God, who knows all, knew that it would take this time in our lives for us to learn this new skill. That of practicing patience. 

I distinctly remember being a teen and having conversations with my dad about things that were troubling me. I wanted solutions to those things immediately. I didn't want to wait. His answer to me many times was "all in God's time". God's time was rarely fast enough for me at that stage of my life. Sometimes at this stage of our lives ... God's time isn't fast enough either.

Perhaps we are given these particular paths to walk as a lesson. We are capable of waiting. We are capable of watching. Along the way we learn that God sends people into our lives who can hold our hands while we wait. We aren't capable of doing it alone or through our own power.

I'm being vague for a reason and I apologize.

The definition above is from Google I believe. 

How does one accept or tolerate delay, trouble or suffering without getting angry or upset?

Delay. Traffic is a nightmare sometimes (depending on where you're living) and invariably the bigger the hurry the more red lights one meets. It doesn't do any good to get upset at the lights that are making your journey slower. I kind of get that. You'll get there when you get there. Doesn't pay to have stroke level blood pressure over something you can't do anything about.

Trouble. Does this sort of depend on the kind of trouble? Are there troubles that are easier to accept than others without getting upset or angry? Absolutely! We are human after all and each of us is affected differently by different troubles. This may be simplistic, but here goes. I miss my turn and say "oh well, do a u-ball and head back the other way". Jari needs to know exactly where he is going and needs it confirmed repeatedly on the way there. Miss a turn and the world is nearly coming to an end. I really don't care if I have to make a u-turn or go around the block. Even in this (to me little .. to him big), we are different. We deal with that trouble in a completely different way. 

So then how does one accept suffering without getting angry or upset? How does a person come to terms with the suffering of others without getting angry or upset? 

Just as grief has stages, I'm sure other things do as well. They must. I just don't know what they are. At the same time, this is grief. This is grieving. We have been placed in a position where we don't want to be and have needed to accept that place because there is nothing we can do about it. We didn't put ourselves there. We have certainly put ourselves in many predicaments throughout our marriage, this time it was a result of another persons actions.

Suffering. As I was working on this post, I searched the Bible for scripture related to both anger and patience. All of a sudden I understood why we were given this time of waiting. It was one of those light bulb moments. 1000 watt kind.

It isn't like I can say that on Tuesday of this or that month, I will give in to suffering. That sort of delay just isn't real. Nor can I say that I am a patient person while waiting for the suffering, because in reality I'm still not a patient person and I'm already suffering. However, when things aren't in your control ... you may as well just practice patience. Really, you might just grab an ulcer along the way but what's an ulcer in the grand scheme of life anyway?

The light bulb that dawned for me was this: had I not been given this time of waiting, I would have remained overcome with anger. We were given this time of waiting and learning patience so that we could act in love and not in anger. It has been quite the lesson for us. It may also continue being a lesson in learning as we aren't the ones in control. We are the like the kids at the end of "crack the whip". Someone else is in charge and we're just hanging on for dear life.

Practicing this new kind of patience.

While we wait, our hands grow a little gentler in that hold on the lifeline. We breath a little easier. We may even sleep a little sounder. Our trust in God grows and our capacity to love grows in ways we would have never imagined.

Just as love grows, empathy grows as well. I'm learning and it ain't an easy learn. Patience. Love. Empathy. All at the end of the whip.

If you are riding with a death grip on that life line right now ... keep hanging on. You are there for a reason.

Trust and be patient.

grief

I haven't lost anyone, permanent loss, in my life in a very long time.

We have made some big changes in our lives and done them with planning, trepidation and forethought. Those changes involved grieving as well. Moving away from close loved ones. Loved ones moving away from us. All of those involve loss. It changes the way our worlds turn from day to day. The faces and hearts that are closest to our own. Today's world is a different place for sure. We have access to the internet, cell phones, face to face speaking even if it is routed through satellites the world around. But, it isn't a visit shared over a cup of coffee. It isn't the Saturday evenings spent together over joys and over sorrows. Even though emojis abound, it is difficult to share a hug through Verizon.

Prior to these big changes in our life, we have separated ourselves from those we are leaving. It is interesting that it is done in a subconscious way. We certainly haven't consciously done this, rather as a mode of self preservation and protection our minds have done it for us. We didn't even realize it ourselves until it was brought to our attention. And yet, it made perfect sense to me when I realized what we had done.

Does this happen when a person faces the loss of a loved family member? I haven't done that. I am so thankful that I haven't yet been given that cross to bear. And yet the finality of that parting must be so final. Like the curtain being drawn and there is no light anymore until one's eyes adjust to the new level of light. It isn't as bright anymore, but there is still a level of light. The longer the time, the more the adjustment. It is no longer the same, nor will it ever be.

This past fall brought a different kind of loss to my world. While it wasn't a choice that I made, and I fully respect the right of any person to make their own choices, it wasn't any easy one for me. We live in a very close knit community of shared faith. Yes, there are people who think we are simple and led like lambs to slaughter with no minds of our own. They are also free to think that ... I don't need to surround myself with the likes. Inside that community of shared faith, we share the same foundation of our lives. They are built upon the bedrock of a living faith in God and His congregation. When one chooses, or makes choices that inevitably separates one from that congregation, to leave this way of life it severs that thread that knits us together. We still share many things. So many of things haven't changed, but the very basis of our belief systems have changed. The very thing upon which my entire life is based is something we no longer have in common.

We have children who are not of the same faith as we are. At some points in their lives, they have chosen to walk a different path than us. I love them to bits. I love them bunches. I love them unconditionally.

Those changes didn't come easily. They came with a near loss of sanity on my part, they came with self preservation skills to keep me out of what I was sure was a break with reality. They came with overwhelming grief.

If you aren't of my faith and are reading this you're wondering what the big deal is. You may be thinking I don't have a right to make a choice for someone else. You probably have all kinds of thoughts about what I am allowed to feel or how difficult it was for my children, and others, to leave the safety of all that they knew. I get that. It isn't my choice, it is yours and theirs. You make the choices and you live with their consequences. I live with the aftermath of your choices.

So I learn to love you in a different way. It is as if you drew the blackout curtain and walked away. You left me trying to figure out how to stumble in the dark room without you walking beside me, holding my hand and listening to my heart. You didn't tell me you were having problems in the bright light. You didn't tell me you wanted help making your way. You forged a different path as is and was your right. You found other people to walk with you and hold your hand and heart.

Perhaps I didn't see look close enough to see that you needed me. Perhaps you hid from me so I couldn't see.

The room went dark when you left it. I stumbled around looking for the piece of me that had just left and it was gone. I fumbled around the obstacles that are my own thoughts and fears. I held on to the ones who were still here to hold my heart and listen to it weep. And slowly, ever so slowly, the light filtered back into the room. It took time. It took prayer. It took patience. Slowly, just as river smooths a stone, the sharp edges of the broken heart have softened.

As someone who is facing death wrote not long ago:

"I also want to say though that each person should feel free to feel how you feel in the midst of your struggles. Even if someone else seems to have something "more serious" going on OR someone else seems to have an easier time with the same kind of trial you're having, you don't need to compare or somehow put the expectation on yourself that your struggle isn't real or justified. Each of us is unique and each of us have been given life - with it's unique joys and sorrows".

So, yes, that sorrow was mine. It was deep and cutting.

Someday it will again be joy. .

do gerbils breath to relax?

Lately this is what I feel like.

I am on the wheel and someone other than me is cranking it .. faster and faster and faster. 

I can't stop the wheel and I can't get off of it.

This past week I needed to start playing the organ faster. I know it is easier to sing in church when the music is a bit faster, but whew! To be honest I felt like I was running a race. Much of the music has been rewritten in such a way that it is challenging to play and I can't do  anything but move my fingers and hold on. Seriously felt like the keys were a track of a roller coaster and I was going to fly off at any minute.

Then there is work. I really do like my job. But .. there is a spinning exercise wheel going on there as well. One more form on top of one more form on top of yet another form. Same number of patients, same number of staff and many more things to do. The days seem like they get longer and the pace just gets faster and faster. Often I do the job of two people, but even this is getting to the point of ridiculous.

Faster to the point where I hooked myself up to the blood pressure cuff one day. If my blood pressure is high enough to have a stroke at work ... I may as well not go home, right? Just stay and shower there in the morning. All of this gerbil exercise wheel work must be good for me. My blood pressure is poster worthy beautiful. May as well get on the freeway with every other wheel spinning gerbil and see what needs doing at home.

Although my blood pressure is great and large portions of my life seem to be spinning out of control, it is all good. I am learning to breath. Pretty soon I am going to be so good at it I'll get a second job as a Lamaze coach or something.

I know that I'm not the only one feeling like this. Your wheel might be doctors appointments, school sessions, never ending cooking of meals (by the way .. there is a new drive thru Panda Express on my way home from work!), laundry piles that never end, driving people in your world to and from work/school, etc. We all have our own wheels. I could certainly make a list and tell you what is on mine. Trust me. You don't want a list.

How do you get to a place where you can enjoy something like this instead of the wheel? Even for brief moments of time in a day?

Although I would dearly love to experience this in a physical sense, I would gladly welcome this mentally. To be a in a place where the noise of the world's traffic isn't always humming in my head. The to do list could be a small post it note instead of a notebook. Things that are beyond my control would stay there and not be weighing on my heart and mind.

Onward and forward. This week is booked full. Every single day and evening until February 13th has something on my calendar. Just the thought of that sent my own wheel on the spin cycle. Breath, Anita, breath. Several years ago I was at a cardiology conference where Dr. Andrew Weil was on the agenda. To be honest, it's the only reason I went. He taught this stress relieving breathing technique. Check it out here. I've been doing the numbers all wrong, but it doesn't matter. Maybe holding my breath too long while I'm driving is about the same as texting and driving ... I just adapt and make a conscious effort to breath and relax.

Next week's to do list might have something on it like reduce outside traffic noise. I'm guessing that cleaning our social media to the point where negativity is gone would be worth many breathing exercises.

Until then ... enjoy!

missing her

The birth of my first daughter should have been an indication of what was ahead.
She did not want to come into this world and, although I think it had a lot to do with the doctor and my lack of knowledge at the time, did it in her own way.
Slowly.
From a young age we sort of butted heads.
Often.
Sort of like her dad has done with some of his kids who are so much like him.
I'm sure I didn't realize it then.

Then came the teen years.
Oh my.
There were some serious trials that grew some very non brown hairs on my head.
She knows this.
I'm not spouting anything here that we haven't discussed on the patio.
At one point, I seriously wanted to pack her stuff and shove it out on the front step.
Maybe not even pack it.
Just throw it.

Her dad and I prayed, we cried, we sought advice.
And we lived through the experience.
So did she.

Then we left the place we were living and moved to, what seemed like, a million miles away.
She was left behind, having already reached adulthood and doing her own thing.
Her own thing that was so very different from our own.

Maybe in the space and time of that separation, we both changed.
Perhaps that allowed us time to appreciate each other for who we now were.
Because time and life does change us.
It changes our perspectives.
It changes the way we view others.
It changes the way we react to situations.

And then she moved to where we had moved.
Her dad helped her drive the long road trip and along the way, in a car where there were no other options, they found their place with each other.
One of the greatest blessings.
To find and appreciate each other as adults.

The past four years have been such a treasure to me.
We enjoy each other's company.
We see each other often.
Oh, we don't spend our time out lunching and shopping.
That isn't needed in our relationship, although it might be nice once in a while.
We spend some not so quiet moments filled with the noise of little people.
We spend moments sitting on the patio visiting about the difficult things in life.
We are able to share and cherish successes.
We are able to share heartaches and hurdles.
In my heart, we have become friends.

She spent two weeks out of town recently and I felt lost without her.
I kept waiting for her to come over.

And now she, and her family, have moved away.
Oh, I would be the last person to say "don't go" or "you can't leave us".
For I believe that when doors of opportunity are opened for us, it is for us to go through them and discover what waits on the other side.
A door has opened for them and they will go explore it.

Last weekend, the father/husband/grandfather took off driving
and the rest of the family left the middle of this past week.
They spent the last leg of this Arizona journey with us.

Oh, I will miss the little man with whom we are blessed to have a beautiful relationship.
I dare not even discuss not having him around on a weekly basis.
I am going to learn to love Skype or some equivalent.
(Even though it grates me to sit in one spot for too long.)

I am going to miss my daughter so very much.

I am going to miss my friend.

And then when I have a weeks vacation that allows me to hop in the car ... I am going to go explore the beautiful state of Missouri.

For opportunities are everywhere ... for all of us.

joy on the piano keys

A few times in my life I have written a wee bit of music. 

It was usually at times that were extremely stressful for me and allowed an escape from hurts of the heart and mind. 

I've played them here and there .. often at home.
Very often with my daughters on their various instruments.
I'm so very fortunate to share a love of music with all 3 of my girls.
So. Exquisitely. Fortunate.

(This particular photo collage has been evading me for the past several years. I can't believe I just found it!)

One piece was written to a poem and has been sung at nearly every Kuoppala family event for quite a while.

Over the years, Tia has been plunking piano keys. Sometimes in secret in her room on a keyboard when she was too self conscious to be heard by anyone else. Sometimes in the living room. Several years ago, she started plunking a song that has become hers. There are no notes other than those she has in her head .. so it is only she who can bring life to the piece.

I love when she sits at the piano and her fingers breath a life into notes that exist only in her heart. 

Her friends have heard this piece many times and one friend has said for a long time that she wants to walk down the aisle at her wedding to that piece that Tia created. 

Guess who got engaged recently?

But my dear daughter cannot play at the wedding as she is in the wedding. So this mama has the honor and privilege of playing this special piece of the heart.

I know how I wrote my own music. One painstaking note at a time transcribed to written form. It is one thing to do your own but someone else's??

One day I was contemplating how we were going to accomplish this and had the thought "there has to be an app for that!"
There is.
It doesn't give me all the notes but it does give me the melody and the rest we can work through together. She played ... the app recorded and analyzed ... it worked its magic .. and gave us a musical score. 

Being as there were wet eyes in the room last weekend when she played the song for friends and family of the bride ....

I might need a tissue holder in addition to a page turner/holder the day of the wedding.

nearly had me some heart failure

I got my very first iPhone a few years back.
I harassed Jari and Fred about their phones and how much time they spent on them.
And then they harassed me equally.

I do hit facebook on my phone.
I occasionally hit Instagram but I really don't know how that works.
The map has only steered me wrong once.
Email is usually read on my handheld device and even occasionally sent.
I'm very bad at two way relationships on snapchat .. I don't send but I love to receive.
GroupMe is one of my all time favorites. I love seeing videos of my grandcharmers doing fun things.
I use the Bible and the Hymnal on my phone.
Pinterest. Oh. Yeah. But you knew that.
The camera, camera rolls and albums are big.
The notes are endless and occasionally I sit down to clean them up a bit.
Life has become so busy that my phone calendars can't contain it all anymore.

Seriously. It is amazing how much this little tiny thing will hold.

Blogger has an icon on my phone. Just not on the front page.
Google Drive with oodles of photos.
eMemories with family videos that are stored in the cloud but accessed on my phone.
Podcasts that I only listen to when I don't have a book to listen to.

And yesterday my favorite icon wouldn't work and I nearly didn't know what I was going to do.
Almost as bad as the power being out and not being able to brew a cup of coffee.
That realization is enough to make a person realize they have a problem.

My favorite. My most used ever app on my phone is

I listen to hoards of books by a wide range of authors.
I have the nicest little Bluetooth necklace thing that Jari bought for me.
It is probably my favorite piece of "jewelry".
I very rarely purchase books.
I have never purchased a book for download.
I like the kind I can get on OverDrive.
Free library books.
I download them for 2 weeks and then they go away.
In the space of 2 weeks .. I might actually listen to ... well, a lot of them.
I find new authors and go through everything they have.
While the public library system may not have the latest available ... it has enough for me.

Yesterday morning my traveling companion wouldn't work so I had to listen to news on my way to work.
And an old podcast on my way home when I had enough of politics within about 5 minutes.
I actually had to delete the app, reload the app and then download my current book again.

I am good to go.

Now if I can figure out where I was when the app quit working ... I'm good for the drive today!

supposed to be

finding fifty on a friday.
forget it.
i really don't have time for that.
if it requires too much thinking ... it ain't happening.

the silver lining in this particular cloud is pure silver.
i imagine being bored and having nothing to do.

that gives me the downright shudders.

so last weekend jari and i went to california.
we spent the afternoon on friday at the mall instead of the beach.
i even convinced him to go to a massage place inside the mall.
hehehe.
he was hurting (in a good way tho') for several days after that.
the wind was blowing in such a way that i thought we took a detour and found alaska with its glacial winds.
downright chilly.

i spent two days in class.
the first day was painful.
i don't sit well or long.
and i sat.
and i learned.
and i can't wait to put it into practice.
again.

otherwise, we just spent the rest of the moments together and enjoyed it.
no beach.
maybe next time.

the christmas tree finally got trimmed.
at one point i decided that i didn't care if the ornaments joined the tree this year.
sebastian decided to help me out a little bit.



he was of the opinion that all ornaments belong underneath the tree.
perhaps he thought they were suppose to join the gifts.
who knows what goes on those little minds.

check out the hand action ... things were flying ... literally.
















it is thursday evening.
one week to christmas eve.
the oven is cooking up some pulla.
the fridge has cookie dough chilling.
a run to the grocery store in the morning for a few more baking items.
and it will all be done in the next few days.

in the meantime, christmas music has been filling the air this evening.
i'm typing by the light of the christmas tree.
well ... maybe by the light of the screen on my 'puter.

it feels so good to just sit a spell.

from facebook to joy

This post has been skirting the edges of my brain for a while now. I see something and am reminded that I am bugged. It is like negative energy that shocks my brain waves every once in a while and reminds me that I wanted to write about it. Then the next thing comes along and it gets pushed to the back burner. In the meantime, my positive outlook and energy has been whittled away by someone else's negativity. None of which needs to be in my world.  None of which is going to stay in my world.

There is this miraculous unfollow button on Facebook.

I pushed it several times last week on different pages.

It was that easy.

And my world is that much brighter without being assailed by someone's anger at their childhood. Another's anger at certain segments of society that seem to be directed at themselves. (After which I went on a rampage myself, but I'm sure I'm allowed one. It probably won't happen again.)

Seriously.

Get. Over. It.

And if you can't get over it under your own power, go get some help.

It has gotten quite nauseating. It's kind of like rubber necking on the freeway. That horrible car accident that has everyone slowing so they can see the horror? The negative posts do the same thing. I seriously wonder if the authors of them know that and are doing it intentionally. Like a very good advertising campaign.

The very bright side is that now I have to go look for you to find that negativity.
It won't flash in my face as I scroll through pieces of other people's joy.

There is much in this life to be joyful about.
It doesn't matter where we've been.
It doesn't matter what we've been through.
Really it doesn't.

If joy isn't attainable ... then work to find a way to make it so.
We sort of like it over here.
That joy thing.

wordy wednesday

So ... we are ambling around the house .. just the two of us.
We have kids visiting.
We have grandbabies visiting.
But after a long day at work, it ain't all bad to just sit.
My feet have been howling lately after wearing a lead apron at work all day.
Sitting is good.

So ... the house is quiet.
Last week, on Wednesday, Jari commented on how the dishes just don't seem to accumulate.
Maybe I told him that it would help if I actually cooked something.
I don't remember.
I do know that I can clean the kitchen and it stays that way.
Clean and kitchen in the same sentence?
Maybe I'll have to admit what Alyx did for me last Friday. Later.

So ... the house is empty.
That means that for the first time in 28 years or so we sleep with the bedroom door open.
I shut the hall light off awhile ago, but this is a whole new thing.
Air can circulate!
It is quite a miracle.

And if you lock the front door ...
you can take a shower with the bathroom door open to let out steam in this heat entrenched summer we are enduring.
There are kids who have keys, but I figure if the front door is locked and they just pop on over ...
they deserve what they get.

Did I start off talking about sitting?
Back to that.
I did some sitting this week, and being as my laptop was perched in a convenient position I started editing and organizing photos.
2015 is done up to date!
That includes all photos from my phone.
I do crazy things like label most photos with the date they're taken.
They sometimes end up in other folders that don't have dates on them and then I sort of have a clue.
Now I need to start going backwards in time!

This particular one made me chuckle. Out. Loud.

I think he had a clue what was coming!

Enjoy the rest of your week and the new month! Happy July!

June 10th

I would have noticed the date today when I eventually woke up a bit.

For sure when I went to work later today and started writing the date. 

We had a going away get together for Tia last night. A nice group that enjoyed eating, laughing and playing games together. 

This morning when I got up to see them off ... the 3 gals hadn't yet slept a wink. 

They were a fun kind of punchy. 

So I ignored my alarm that I habitually set for 6 a.m. on mornings I'm not working and rolled over. 

I woke later and checked our family GroupMe. Two years ago today Anna & Wylon were engaged. Wow! Time does fly! We are so happy for them. Warm snugly feelings wrapped in their car as their travel today. 

And then it hit me. 

It is June 10th. 

We all have dates that live in our hearts where caverns have been created at some time. And, although those caverns at times are filled with tears of joy, they are still caverns. Crevasses carved by our own tears. 

It doesn't matter how long it has been. 

So how fitting is it that today, on June 10th, this is the sight that greets me as I open the door to my daughters room. 

She is whizzing her way across the state of Arizona, on her way to a new life in North Dakota, fast asleep while her dad drives. 

I'm home this morning remembering another June 10th. 

Eighteen years ago on this date I lost the ability to give birth to any more children.  I lost the chance to feel them growing within me: their kicks, their arms flailing, their heart beats bounding. That day changed the course of my life. What I thought was a sure and steady path was forever altered and it wasn't an easy change. It was torturous leading up to that day and it was raw for a very long time afterward. The grieving process that began months before that day had a long way yet to go. 

And finally I was able to enjoy. To drink in and hold in my heart the growing of my family and all its changes. To appreciate the days I had with this last little cherub I had been loaned by God. 

They haven't been roads of roses without thorns. They have been the kind of road that nature winds. One that goes through mountains and valleys, gently sloping plains and rock strewn stream beds. 

Now as she leaves she will have to learn some of the things we failed in. I hope the learning isn't too terribly hard because she has every right to blame us if it is. She is our youngest and we, as her parents, held on to that. Oh, we haven't neglected everything. She will learn the rest on her own because she is also that willful type of woman. Somedays she will be blaming us. I know that. I will deserve that.

So on this June 10th I'm already crying. For that which wasn't, for that which was and for the new hill I've now to climb. At the end of the hill will be be a new kind of life that will be equally beautiful to the life of the last eighteen years ... after that other June 10th.

Just in a different way. 

24 sleeps

Before the 24 sleeps, I must tell you that I'm really excited about the other number ratting around in my head.

8 days of school left.
8 days of making sure someone made it to school on time because she doesn't like mornings anymore than I did at that age.
8 days until I have no more homework to worry about.
8 days until my baby graduates high school.

Throw the hat! Have a party!!

We are relatively young to be at this stage of life.
We certainly have many friends who will be working on projects and papers long after we're done.

I'm ready to be done with all that.

I'm not so ready to be done with the other part.

The 24 sleeps part.

We are 24 sleeps away from being empty nesters.
Like, all the birds will have flown.

I often think of the eagle and the way their nest is prepared for their young.

"Though many of us have seen pictures of a huge eagle's nest high in the branches of a tree or in the crag of a cliff, few of us have gotten a glimpse inside. When a mother eagle builds her nest she starts with thorns, broken branches, sharp rocks, and a number of other items that seem entirely unsuitable for the project. But then she lines the nest with a thick padding of wool, feathers, and fur from animals she has killed, making it soft and comfortable for the eggs.

"By the time the growing birds reach flying age, the comfort of the nest and the luxury of free meals makes them quite reluctant to leave. That's when the mother eagle begins stirring up the nest. With her strong talons she begins pulling up the thick carpet of fur and feathers, bringing the sharp rocks and branches to the surface. As more of the bedding gets plucked up, the nest becomes more uncomfortable for the young eagles. Eventually, this and other urgings prompt the growing eagles to leave their once-comfortable abode and move on to more mature behavior."


We all know that our job is raise our children so they can leave the nest.

But for the mother, whose purpose for years has been the rearing of her children and keeping them safe and protected, it isn't the easy thing to do.

At least for this mother.

And when it comes to the youngest ... I've done more protecting than pushing.

By far.

It's a good thing she has older brothers.

 

I'm going to buy stock in Kleenex.

Put boxes in every room.

I'll wander around waiting for her to come home and share the latest teen girl drama and heartache with me.

I'll worry about her getting home safely and then realize that she isn't coming home.

I might text her to say "where r u?" just because.

I'll buy her favorite foods and then realize she isn't here to eat them.

I am even going to miss her cranky days.

 

I'll clean her room out and make it a guest room.

And wait for her to be the guest.

 

24 sleeps.

 

mantra of joy

Recently, a FB friend posted this as part of her status:

I read an article on Contentment, and in [it] a lady talked about taking her Amish friend with her when she went to a large mall for the first time. When they left, her Amish friend told [her] 'Before I went there I knew I had everything I needed. Now, I think I need so many things!'

I didn't comment on her post, but had the thought that it mirrors what I have been thinking lately.

In actuality, my mantra lately has been Envy is the thief of joy.

I don't know what prompted President Theodore Roosevelt to use the words Comparison is the thief of joy, but I have my own reasons for my newest mantra.

I have thought of deleting Facebook, but I really do enjoy it. I don't waste mind numbing hours poring over people's pages. If FB friends (or acquaintances as many are in actuality) post things about repost this so I can see how many people are actually paying attention to me, I'm not going to do it. If you feel like I'm ignoring you ... go ahead and unfriend me. I'm okay with that.

I really don't have time to personally visit the pages of some 300 people .. or whatever it is.

I do like to see your pictures and hear of your joys and, as life tends to give us, sorrows. I'll rejoice with you and mourn with you.

I love seeing the pictures of families growing and playing. I love seeing reality. I even enjoy a link now and then.

Those don't typically cause me envy.

But there are some things that do.

I am happy in my life. I have an active family life, faith life and work life that keep me hopping and happy. We have been abundantly blessed.

Then sometimes as my finger is flipping down the page of FB, I see things that cause me discontent. I don't want you to stop doing those things that bring you pleasure and that you enjoy. I love the fact that you are able to do them. I especially love seeing families doing things together. I rejoice when I know that it isn't a common occurrence for you and that the memories you just made with your family will be treasured for the rest of your lives. I love that you can take days and spend them out and about with your friends/family/loved ones doing the things you enjoy.

However, it is as if I am the Amish woman who just walked into the mall. Until my finger hit the FB icon on my phone, I had enough. I was content. I was happy.

Then I scrolled through pages and suddenly I don't have enough. Envy, defined as a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck, has reared its ugly head and taken my joy.

No it hasn't taken.

I have allowed my joy to be given to envy.

Will others look at my life with the same kind of envy? Perhaps. I am at a most delicious stage of life. I take naps when I feel like it (although lately I'm developing napping insomnia!). I go out for breakfast/brunch on Sunday if I'm in the mood. I can drop and run to Hobby Lobby on a crafting whim. I can get my laundry done in several hours. I could seriously go on and on.

I have an entire litany of reasons that a walk through FB shouldn't be anymore challenging than an Amish walk through the mall should be.

I still don't have an answer to my dilemma as, irrationally, my joy turns to envy. No longer is my life filled with enough. I am left wanting more than our good Creator has seen fit to bless me with.

Maybe someone has a solution for this problem. Perhaps this is my problem alone and no one else shares it, although I am doubtful of that.

Perhaps my mantra is enough for now. It is a gentle reminder to the heart.

Hold on to the joy.

I'm going camping.
There is sure to be much there in the way of both peace and joy.