They say that the only thing constant is change. Today, that feels more true than ever. Today, September 23rd, was the first day of autumn. And as the weather changes this week, so have the lives of so many people I know. Today, as the wind blew cooler and continued to give us the relief we've been needing for months, I drove a hundred miles away to a town I'd never even been to. I was there for a funeral. And as I watched the changing scenery on the drive, and noticed the continuing change of the weather, my heart was heavy with the family and friends we would see when we arrived.
Today, as the world continued to turn and change, it stood still for a mother who was burying her 28-year-old son. And although it is heartbreaking for any mother to bury their baby, this funeral was particularly difficult to watch. Because two years ago, this mother buried her only other child. Her first child was killed by a drunk driver; her son's heart gave out while he slept. Neither of these was expected or even foreshadowed. And yet she had to plan both their funerals. Everything changes.
This week, a co-worker of mine and my husband's was buried as well. A 44-year old father who had a passion for life and who played fantasy football with my husband. Everything changes.
This week also marks the one-year anniversary since my high-school boyfriend passed away. It marks one year since I began emailing his parents back and forth, checking on them and exchanging stories about how our lives are going. It makes one year since I began worrying about how they were holding up, especially his fragile mother.
And one year since my world fell apart healthwise. One year that I've been dealing with the many struggles and trials that have accompanied all the health issues I've had. One year spent answering questions, coming up with new questions, and continuing on what could very well be a lifelong journey to getting better. Everything changes.
I wish I could say this was an unusual situation and that I'd never had so much change at one time. I wish I could say I hadn't lost both my grandfathers within 2 months of eachother, followed by my aunt and next-door neighbor within the next 8 months. I wish I could say I didn't find out I was pregnant at that same time and that I hadn't had many friends pass away before. I wish I could say that everything calmed down for a while, but a year after I gave birth, my brother was dead. And of course, death is not the only change in life. No, we have gained and lost jobs since then. We have made friends and watched others leave our lives. My husband and I have grown apart and together. Everything changes.
I've often felt like I just want life to stop changing... even if just for one year. But if I know anything, it's that change is the only thing I can really count on.
I wish I had a more upbeat note to end this ramble on, but unfortunately my heart is heavy tonight. And try as I might, I think God just wants me in this reflective (albeit slightly depressing) state tonight. ;-)
Friday, September 23, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Dropped Cheese
My red-head is very strong-willed. And impulsive. I say go; she stops. I say stand still; she runs off. I say lay down; she stands. Up, down. Left, right. Go, stop. Walk, run. No, yes. All day long we do this.
The other day she had requested a band-aid. And although my rule is typically "no blood, no band-aid", I caved and let her have one. Five minutes later, the boo boo was healed and the uber-expensive fancy band aid she insists on having was off. I sighed and told her "Ok, here's the thing. #1... No more band-aids unless there's blood. #2, you don't get one next time you ask." Without missing a beat, my child told me "And #3, I DO get a band-aid any time I ask!" It's little things like band aid conversations that we have all day long.
I give her choices A and B; she will ALWAYS choose C.
And bless her heart, she will try and talk her way out of anything.
Tonight, she INSISTED she needed one more little snack before bed. She wanted a banana. We're out, I told her. She wanted an apple; I wasn't cutting one, I said. She told me she wanted fruit, but of course accepting my offer of grapes wasn't acceptable. She chose cheese. And in true Abbie fashion, she ate 3/4 of it and said she didn't like it. (Because to say "I'm done" would be to admit that she'd once again dramatically insisted on something she didn't need or hardly even want ;-) ). I explained that she had requested that snack even AFTER brushing her teeth and, by golly, she was gonna finish that last bite of cheese. I throw enough food in the trash every day to feed the whole neighborhood, thank you!
And what did my darling do? She PUT the cheese ON THE FLOOR. Didn't drop it. PUT it on the floor and picked it up and said "Well, it fell on the ground. I can't eat it now" Then she pranced over to the trash can and threw it away.
I turned to my mother and told her "I thought the deceitful behavior came LATER in life" She just looked at me and said "well, she is YOUR daughter".
I love my daughter with all of my heart. I do. But she is too smart for her own good sometimes!
That's all that's on my mind tonight ;-)
Melissa
The other day she had requested a band-aid. And although my rule is typically "no blood, no band-aid", I caved and let her have one. Five minutes later, the boo boo was healed and the uber-expensive fancy band aid she insists on having was off. I sighed and told her "Ok, here's the thing. #1... No more band-aids unless there's blood. #2, you don't get one next time you ask." Without missing a beat, my child told me "And #3, I DO get a band-aid any time I ask!" It's little things like band aid conversations that we have all day long.
I give her choices A and B; she will ALWAYS choose C.
And bless her heart, she will try and talk her way out of anything.
Tonight, she INSISTED she needed one more little snack before bed. She wanted a banana. We're out, I told her. She wanted an apple; I wasn't cutting one, I said. She told me she wanted fruit, but of course accepting my offer of grapes wasn't acceptable. She chose cheese. And in true Abbie fashion, she ate 3/4 of it and said she didn't like it. (Because to say "I'm done" would be to admit that she'd once again dramatically insisted on something she didn't need or hardly even want ;-) ). I explained that she had requested that snack even AFTER brushing her teeth and, by golly, she was gonna finish that last bite of cheese. I throw enough food in the trash every day to feed the whole neighborhood, thank you!
And what did my darling do? She PUT the cheese ON THE FLOOR. Didn't drop it. PUT it on the floor and picked it up and said "Well, it fell on the ground. I can't eat it now" Then she pranced over to the trash can and threw it away.
I turned to my mother and told her "I thought the deceitful behavior came LATER in life" She just looked at me and said "well, she is YOUR daughter".
I love my daughter with all of my heart. I do. But she is too smart for her own good sometimes!
That's all that's on my mind tonight ;-)
Melissa
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Late night car rides
Last night, as I drove my daughter home after an eventful evening spent with friends, I felt as if I was driving down memory lane. It was pitch dark and there were very few other cars on the road. Abbie, who had played her heart out, was exhausted and quiet. I drove through our friends' neighborhood, which has a lot of twists and turns. And as I turned my blinker on and off again and again, I heard a familiar and peaceful sound.
When I was young, we always travelled everywhere by car (mostly because our only vacations ever consisted of trips to all the lakes in Texas). And we often found ourselves travelling home late at night. And I remember waking up countless times to the sound of nothing else but my mom's quiet radio and the blinker. It was like the world was just like those almost empty roads: sparsely populated, safe, and peaceful. During the day, everyone always seems to be in a hurry. And there's traffic and people are cutting each other off and then hurrying onto the next place that they are eternally late for. It's stressful and loud and exhuasting. And waking up in those quiet cars with nothing much more than the sound of the blinker just always felt so.... safe.
So I drove Abbie home and I listened to the sound of that blinker, taking it in with the soft music playing in the background. And I relished in the fact that maybe she was feeling as peaceful and safe as I used to during those late-night car rides.
A few months ago, I had a plan for everything. Go to school. Get a degree. Become the best teacher anyone has ever known. Buy a home. Have more children. Lead a successful life juggling a full-time career, 3-4 kids, church, and a bootload of other activities. Do it all with a smile on my face and fresh-baked cookies in the oven.
But last night, driving home, my only goal was to take more late-night drives. So maybe the next time I'm feeling the need for a little more security and peace in my life, I'll put Abbie in the car for a few minutes, drive around the neighborhood, and listen to the blinker blink.
God Bless!
Melissa
When I was young, we always travelled everywhere by car (mostly because our only vacations ever consisted of trips to all the lakes in Texas). And we often found ourselves travelling home late at night. And I remember waking up countless times to the sound of nothing else but my mom's quiet radio and the blinker. It was like the world was just like those almost empty roads: sparsely populated, safe, and peaceful. During the day, everyone always seems to be in a hurry. And there's traffic and people are cutting each other off and then hurrying onto the next place that they are eternally late for. It's stressful and loud and exhuasting. And waking up in those quiet cars with nothing much more than the sound of the blinker just always felt so.... safe.
So I drove Abbie home and I listened to the sound of that blinker, taking it in with the soft music playing in the background. And I relished in the fact that maybe she was feeling as peaceful and safe as I used to during those late-night car rides.
A few months ago, I had a plan for everything. Go to school. Get a degree. Become the best teacher anyone has ever known. Buy a home. Have more children. Lead a successful life juggling a full-time career, 3-4 kids, church, and a bootload of other activities. Do it all with a smile on my face and fresh-baked cookies in the oven.
But last night, driving home, my only goal was to take more late-night drives. So maybe the next time I'm feeling the need for a little more security and peace in my life, I'll put Abbie in the car for a few minutes, drive around the neighborhood, and listen to the blinker blink.
God Bless!
Melissa
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