Z and I were getting ready to go...to Ohio...for at least six months, so for the second time in a year I was leaving our MN...only this time we would be almost 900 miles away.
My innards had balled into a fist that felt like it was hanging on for dear life. A hard, clenched, hurting mass that I had no control over, could not will away or even ease the extreme discomfort. "Is this what anxiety feels like?", I asked.
We went about our preparations, running errands, dropping off payments. When all the business was taken care of we ate and Z wanted to see a movie. I thought eating might make the fist ease up, but it didn't.
MN had declined an invitation to go with us to the movie as she had made plans with friends. I really wanted to spend every waking moment left of our time with her, but I understood. We didn't make it to the movie though as I still had that unshakable, ungodly knot in my stomach.
We wound up returning home and I took the opportunity to do some chores around the house, laundry and such. As I was headed down the hall, I noticed MN's door was closed, which is rare if she is not home. Concerned that she was not feeling well or that plans with friends had gone awry, I flipped on the hall light and quietly opened her door to check. In the darkness I could make out the form of a person facing me. As my eyes adjusted, I could see MN's SO standing stock still, staring at me, not knowing what to do having just been caught by THE MOM.
I sort of just stood there myself, thinking of what I was going to say, when it occurred to me... I do not recognize this man... who was in this room... with my daughter!
I then did what any protective mother would do. I slammed the door shut, ran down the hallway, SCREAMING HYSTERICALLY for her father.
"THERE'S SOMEONE IN MN'S ROOM!"
"WHAT?!"
"THERE'S A MAN IN MN'S ROOM!!!", louder with more feeling.
Z goes down the hall, opens the door to the room, and flipped on the light, not knowing who or what he will find... only that his wife is witless about someone in his daughter's room.
Then he sees... the room is empty save for a life-sized cardboard cut out of Josh Groban, facing the door beside MN's empty bed.
He laughs with relief and then tries to comfort me... but it takes a while. I CANNOT STOP SCREAMING, and it gets worse before it gets better. Finally, the tidal wave of emotion recedes.
It's funny in the retelling, but it was not funny living it. When relating the story to my mom the next day (who's had a similar anxiety about my leaving for Ohio), I drew the conclusion that God must have been trying to tell me that even though we cannot be there to take care of MN, He is able to. It hit home for my mom as well.
One more thing I learned that night... hysterics caused by a life-sized cutout of Josh Groban in your daughter's room significantly reduces the impact of a knot in your stomach...
Priceless.
A
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Sunday, May 20, 2007
The Name
No silly, not Franklin Graham's book. Although it was a pretty good book, especially when you consider I purchased it for 50 cents at the overpriced book resellers.
The Name of the blog. All is explained (o k not all. There would be no reason to continue to blog if all was explained here and now and that would defeat the whole purpose I had in finally caving to blogging in the first place.). (Sorry, I got carried away.) Why am I apologizing!! It's my blog! My mom has recently brought to my attention that I apologize for everything. I have never paid attention, but you know, now that she has mentioned it - she does have a point. O K, I'm done. Back to The Name.
Z and I are total opposites. When we met, he was tall, but not tall enough to be lanky, at 6' and 175 lbs, a fair-skinned blond (I didn't know it was bleached out from all his perms), and a sexy little mustache. On the other hand, I am a shorty with then dark hair and olive complected and enough curves to have been considered meaty by some. (O K we are not total opposites as I also sport a little mustache, though it isn't generally considered sexy).
Here are SOME of the differences--
A- Z
Avid reader- Movie buff
Techno-phobe- Tech wienie
Food lover- Eats to live
Cars-transportation- Cars-the stuff of fantasy
I won't bore you further.
I think you get the picture.
Anyway, one of the most striking differences (and most hurtful for me) is that while Z isn't exactly an atheist, he has no interest in exploring or even admitting to the spiritual aspects of his existence. I don't know much, but I know I love Him, and I know that without Him, His Word, His Son, and His Spirit that I am only base chemicals, with base desires, selfish intentions, and a numb heart.
I have learned lately that putting the Word into action in my life in acts of obedience is helping to lessen the deadening my heart has experienced and He is binding together my heart and my mind to make me a complete person again.
There are scars though.
Aren't there always when a major surgery is involved? And the scars make me different from the person He created me to be, but He is able to use me nonetheless, so He gently keeps cleaning out the wounds, sewing, and binding them up- some that are self-inflicted for sure (ok most of them self-inflicted) and those that weren't.
I would love to be able to share this with Z, but for many reasons, I am not able to.
Z needs major surgery. His spirit is so depleted, and his attitude so defeated, it amazes me that he gets through the day. It amazes him too. But he is tired.
Of living.
And that scares me on so many levels. He is not actively seeking death, and he is not the adrenaline junkie he was when we first met, but in every other way possible he is trying to make sure he will not be around much longer. There are things from his past that I am certain have tainted his views, deadened his heart, and poisoned his hopes. But I know that doesn't make a difference, because my God cares, and He is able to take the pieces of what I, Z, or anyone else gives Him to gently recreate the person He created us to be in the first place, alive with joy and sorrow, overwhelmed with emotions long buried, but knowing this was part of the plan, and He is there close-by when it gets to be too much.
I pray one of these days I can talk to Z about these things that are on my heart and mind so much. The Alpha and Omega.
But we are opposites. Oil and water. Fire and ice. As A is to Z.
Hence, the Name.
A
The Name of the blog. All is explained (o k not all. There would be no reason to continue to blog if all was explained here and now and that would defeat the whole purpose I had in finally caving to blogging in the first place.). (Sorry, I got carried away.) Why am I apologizing!! It's my blog! My mom has recently brought to my attention that I apologize for everything. I have never paid attention, but you know, now that she has mentioned it - she does have a point. O K, I'm done. Back to The Name.
Z and I are total opposites. When we met, he was tall, but not tall enough to be lanky, at 6' and 175 lbs, a fair-skinned blond (I didn't know it was bleached out from all his perms), and a sexy little mustache. On the other hand, I am a shorty with then dark hair and olive complected and enough curves to have been considered meaty by some. (O K we are not total opposites as I also sport a little mustache, though it isn't generally considered sexy).
Here are SOME of the differences--
A- Z
Avid reader- Movie buff
Techno-phobe- Tech wienie
Food lover- Eats to live
Cars-transportation- Cars-the stuff of fantasy
I won't bore you further.
I think you get the picture.
Anyway, one of the most striking differences (and most hurtful for me) is that while Z isn't exactly an atheist, he has no interest in exploring or even admitting to the spiritual aspects of his existence. I don't know much, but I know I love Him, and I know that without Him, His Word, His Son, and His Spirit that I am only base chemicals, with base desires, selfish intentions, and a numb heart.
I have learned lately that putting the Word into action in my life in acts of obedience is helping to lessen the deadening my heart has experienced and He is binding together my heart and my mind to make me a complete person again.
There are scars though.
Aren't there always when a major surgery is involved? And the scars make me different from the person He created me to be, but He is able to use me nonetheless, so He gently keeps cleaning out the wounds, sewing, and binding them up- some that are self-inflicted for sure (ok most of them self-inflicted) and those that weren't.
I would love to be able to share this with Z, but for many reasons, I am not able to.
Z needs major surgery. His spirit is so depleted, and his attitude so defeated, it amazes me that he gets through the day. It amazes him too. But he is tired.
Of living.
And that scares me on so many levels. He is not actively seeking death, and he is not the adrenaline junkie he was when we first met, but in every other way possible he is trying to make sure he will not be around much longer. There are things from his past that I am certain have tainted his views, deadened his heart, and poisoned his hopes. But I know that doesn't make a difference, because my God cares, and He is able to take the pieces of what I, Z, or anyone else gives Him to gently recreate the person He created us to be in the first place, alive with joy and sorrow, overwhelmed with emotions long buried, but knowing this was part of the plan, and He is there close-by when it gets to be too much.
I pray one of these days I can talk to Z about these things that are on my heart and mind so much. The Alpha and Omega.
But we are opposites. Oil and water. Fire and ice. As A is to Z.
Hence, the Name.
A
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Creature of Habit
Z has always been a creature of habit. The Tuesday ritual when we first met was to frequent the Tuesday pizza buffet. Later on, we would get together to watch a favorite sci-fi show, etc., etc., etc.
Lately it is the $1.50 movie on Tuesday's, though recently the price was reduced to $1.00.
And lately I have been thinking about a poor lady at the church. She is a shut-in and lost her husband last year. She also just received an eviction notice. I was going to use my tithe to help her out, but I could not find the church directory for her information. And since it was to be an anonymous gift, I could not ask outright for her information either. I formulated a plan to get the information and knew it was forthcoming. In the meantime I called the bank for my balance. That was when I discovered my account balance was a total of $1.00. What is going on?!? I should have close to $1000.00!!! I called the automated line four times to make sure I heard it right, to see what had come through on the the account, and to see if there had been any holds placed against my balance by my creditors. I was too embarrassed to talk to a customer service rep, so I figured out how to set up the online banking, to view my transactions. All the transactions were correct and I found no mystery transactions.
Obviously this thwarted my plans. I called our daughter, who will be named MN for these purposes, and left her voice mail about the situation, asking her to refrain from writing checks until payday which is a week away. And wouldn't you know we needed gas for "The Big Honkin' Truck" and prices had gone from $3.09 that morning to $3.29.
I tried to IM Z to see how much cash he had on him but couldn't raise his attention. I finally decided to call, but didn't want to alarm him. I hate keeping stuff like this from him, but he didn't need to know until after work.
Later on I tried to touch base with MN to make sure she got my message. The call went to voice mail, so I just hung up. She called me right back though and the following ensued.
MN- "Hey! What's up?!"
A- "Just wanted to be sure you got my voice mail."
MN- "Yeah, I got it."
A- "Did you get the Mother's Day card I sent you?"
MN- "No, I haven't checked the mail."
A- "It was an e-card."
MN- "Oh, yes I got that one and I got the package you sent today. Thank you!"
A- "Your welcome. So- will you be OK 'til Tuesday?"
MN- "Yes, fine. Um, do you mind if I let you go? We are eating."
A- "No problem, I love you. Have a good evening." and going for the end button when I hear...
MN- "Wait!! Wait!!
A- "Yes?"
MN- "It's Tuesday. Why aren't you at the dollar movie?"
A- "BECAUSE THERE IS ONLY ONE FREAKING DOLLAR IN MY BANK ACCOUNT!!"
She is MY daughter.
As it turns out, we will be OK until Tuesday. I don't know about the lady at church.
A
Lately it is the $1.50 movie on Tuesday's, though recently the price was reduced to $1.00.
And lately I have been thinking about a poor lady at the church. She is a shut-in and lost her husband last year. She also just received an eviction notice. I was going to use my tithe to help her out, but I could not find the church directory for her information. And since it was to be an anonymous gift, I could not ask outright for her information either. I formulated a plan to get the information and knew it was forthcoming. In the meantime I called the bank for my balance. That was when I discovered my account balance was a total of $1.00. What is going on?!? I should have close to $1000.00!!! I called the automated line four times to make sure I heard it right, to see what had come through on the the account, and to see if there had been any holds placed against my balance by my creditors. I was too embarrassed to talk to a customer service rep, so I figured out how to set up the online banking, to view my transactions. All the transactions were correct and I found no mystery transactions.
Obviously this thwarted my plans. I called our daughter, who will be named MN for these purposes, and left her voice mail about the situation, asking her to refrain from writing checks until payday which is a week away. And wouldn't you know we needed gas for "The Big Honkin' Truck" and prices had gone from $3.09 that morning to $3.29.
I tried to IM Z to see how much cash he had on him but couldn't raise his attention. I finally decided to call, but didn't want to alarm him. I hate keeping stuff like this from him, but he didn't need to know until after work.
Later on I tried to touch base with MN to make sure she got my message. The call went to voice mail, so I just hung up. She called me right back though and the following ensued.
MN- "Hey! What's up?!"
A- "Just wanted to be sure you got my voice mail."
MN- "Yeah, I got it."
A- "Did you get the Mother's Day card I sent you?"
MN- "No, I haven't checked the mail."
A- "It was an e-card."
MN- "Oh, yes I got that one and I got the package you sent today. Thank you!"
A- "Your welcome. So- will you be OK 'til Tuesday?"
MN- "Yes, fine. Um, do you mind if I let you go? We are eating."
A- "No problem, I love you. Have a good evening." and going for the end button when I hear...
MN- "Wait!! Wait!!
A- "Yes?"
MN- "It's Tuesday. Why aren't you at the dollar movie?"
A- "BECAUSE THERE IS ONLY ONE FREAKING DOLLAR IN MY BANK ACCOUNT!!"
She is MY daughter.
As it turns out, we will be OK until Tuesday. I don't know about the lady at church.
A
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Diving In
A little behind the times, but I have finally done it.
Blogging that is.
Not that anyone will care but that is not the point.
My little corner of cyberspace to do with what I will.
A little scary- heck a lot scary.
Blogging that is.
Not that anyone will care but that is not the point.
My little corner of cyberspace to do with what I will.
A little scary- heck a lot scary.
Z doesn't care for bloggers. Too much #@&%!! I, on the other hand, enjoy reading about the lives of other people. Most of the time, I won't know if they are down the street or on the other side of the globe. It doesn't matter. They are people with the same struggles I have, who care for their families, who live with worry, fear, little joys and big challenges. It doesn't matter what the challenges are. They are challenges none the less. Cancer, substance abuse, sex addiction, disability, a horrid neighbor, co-worker, or boss. I could go on - but why. You know what your life is like and I know mine. You will also know mine through this blog and my prayer is that it will somehow help you with yours.
A
A
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