Caught in the Rain

Today, I decided that Millie and I would take a walk. The weather this weekend has been perfect. How could you not want to get out and walk? 

Now, I am going to say this next bit, not as a feel sorry for me statement, but a statement of reality. Being a single mom is tough. Yes, I have heard the comments 'I don't know how you do it', 'I could never do what you do'. While on the one hand it is nice that people recognize it is difficult, on the other hand, I know that more than likely they would do exactly what I did, which is rise to the occasion. 

The life of a single mom is non-stop. If something needs to be cleaned, cooked, mended, ironed, paid for, signed, delivered, picked up you do it. If you want to go on vacation, you think about it, research it, plan it, pay for it, wash for it, pack for it, drive to it, unpack, do all the normal stuff you would do and then repeat and go home. If a child has a wounded heart, you stop everything else that is screaming for attention and listen, bite your tongue, hold them close (or, for teenage boys be glad if they let you rub their back), pray silently for more guidance than you have on your own, and then help them. From the moment my feet hit the floor in the morning (before daylight) my body and brain are on GO. If there are chores to do, you assign them, you make sure they get done, you provide the consequences... do you see where I am going with this? There is no back up. There is no one to do one thing while you do another. There is not even someone to bounce ideas off of when you are thinking through situations. (Thank God I have wonderful friends that do listen to me, but I try to respect their time and not call them at midnight when I am still thinking). Okay, okay... before you misunderstand, I AM NOT COMPLAINING. I do all of this gladly because my kids are amazing and I love (most of the time) the fact that I get to be part of their lives and watch them grow. But, I'm not going to lie, it is not easy. If the money isn't there, guess what? If the time you have is short, guess what? You just make it work. One thing no single mom gets a chance to do is sit down and feel sorry for herself. Ain't nobody got time 'fo dat. 

So, why am I saying all of this? Just to let you, my sweet reader, know... I have been under a lot of pressure lately. I have felt like there is not enough of me to go around. Still not feeling sorry for myself, but very aware that I needed something to provide a little relief. 

I have had that this weekend. I turned the TV on for exactly long enough to watch "The Wedding Date", which I love. Gosh, I wish a man that looked that delicious would swear his undying love to me. But, I digress. 

I have read, I have listened to music, I have sung at the top of my lungs. For those of you who are musicians, you know exactly how relaxing and refreshing that can be to a tired soul. 

This morning I just prayed and asked God to provide freedom. Freedom from the stress, freedom from drama, just freedom to be relaxed, to smile again, which I have not done in a while. Yes, I smile at people all day long, but you know, the kind of smile that is just yours that comes when you are really truly happy just right that very moment? That smile. 

So, back to Silly Millie and I walking. I had the music rocking in my ear, I was enjoying the sights and sounds of the neighborhood and for once not thinking about anything at all. It started to rain. It was the nice kind of rain that really only frizzes my hair into a fro. There was nothing Millie and I could do but keep walking. Somehow the rain made the honeysuckle smell even more fragrant, and of course, the purple flowers were more purple and the yellows more yellow. I would tell you what the flowers were, but I'm kind of flower illiterate. Don't hold it against Mom and Grandma, they tried their best to teach me. 

Anyway, all of the sudden I realized I am smiling. I felt that deep down, soul cleansed, emotionally refreshed, physically soggy kind of peace that produces that kind of smile. You know exactly which one I mean. Well, the rain of course became a down pour, and Millie hates to get wet, so we would be walking and just all of the sudden she would shake her whole body and her legs would come out from underneath her. I could not help but laugh out loud. Now you know why she has that particular nickname. 

I always let Millie off the leash when we get back to our street and she usually runs to our house and waits on the porch. Not today. Today, she jumped around me and played tag with me all the way to our house. Even though she hates to get wet. I guess she could tell mommy was in a much better place. 

So, why blog about this? I mean seriously? Do people really care about my rainy walk. I dunno. But, I do want to say this. Today, I asked God for freedom in some very particular situations. Not that the problems would disappear. No no. I asked for freedom and release and for mountains to be moved. But, this afternoon on my walk.... I did not forget to thank God for the freedom I am living now. I have experienced a lot of pain and tragedy and drama. And yet I am living in freedom. Today I was able to enjoy peace and happiness. The mountains still need to be moved and the house still needs to be picked up, and the bird still had to be saved from the cat. But for tonight I am happy that I am free. 

P.s. When I previewed this, prior to posting I found a couple of grammatical error. Now, I can't find one of them. For all of my fellow grammar nazi's... don't hold it against me. If you find it, I will edit this post and fix it. I'm a little sideways like that. 

So much to say...

I obviously need a job that allows me to write full time. So many times I will think 'oh, I need to blog that'. This is usually followed by 'i'm sure somebody else has already thought of this, I have nothing new to add', which generally leads to 'so many people think they have something to say, but, wonder why that is and what it says about us, and wonder why we think we have some new perspective... and why anyone is listening?'... but I digress. I currently have at least three blogs or articles that I would love to write about. However, for today I am going to have to pick one. Hmmm, which shall it be? There is the one that my best friend started in my head because it took her skin cancer four tries to get to the "root" of the cancer... that is a good one, but I have not finished thinking it through all the way, so.... I might let that one slide. There is the one about the stage of life I am in with the kids right now and how so much is changing at what feels like lightning speed. Or, there is the one about current events and how that one event is affecting me personally. What to say, what to say! So here goes...

Unless you just emerged from your rock cave somewhere, you have heard about Ariel Castro. Pretty much most of America is familiar with the man at this point. Thankfully I can use the word admittedly kidnapped, held captive, raped and tortured three girls for ten years. I say I can thankfully use the word admittedly because he did at least admit it in court and saved the tax payers of Ohio a bundle of money. Otherwise I would use the word alleged. Alright, alright, that was another rabbit trail. When this first came out in the news my therapist asked in me one day how I was handling it. Up to that point, I had emotionally connected with the victims, but the story had not really affected me much. I had gotten frustrated with reported opinions of some who could not understand why the girls did not try to get away at any other time in their ten years of captivity. But, I really was able to kind of keep that seperated from my life, wrapped up with a neat and tidy string. Until this morning.

I read his remarks. The ones about how it was really the victims fault, how they asked for it, how, he had been abused and was really just the victim of his addictions, of how he had not been a wife beater until he met his wife and how he would try to be the voice of reason and she would start the fight and he had no other option but to protect himself or better yet, he was just trying to restrain her. Yep, those remarks... and with those words that nice little package unraveled and I had a reaction. They were a very definite trigger for me. I had a physical reaction when I read those words. Why? Because I have heard those words way to many times from my abuser's mouth. The article I was reading went on to quote various experts in abuse and they all stated that all abuser's say those same things. It's really funny. One commentator, a former domestic violence counselor turned playwright, Zoe Flowers, stated "One of the things we often say is that it's almost like there is a batterer handbook and a sex offender handbook as well..." It's true. I cannot explain it. But, they say the same things.

But, what does this to me? Why my reaction? Because I know how those girls feel. So, I will tell you how I felt when I would hear this. Four years ago, I would feel confused and angry and frustrated and helpless. It was incredulous that those words would come out of my abuser's mouth, telling me that I was the reason he had choked me, thrown me on the bed, pushed me against the wall. How could I be asking for this? No sane, normal person asks to be hurt. I felt powerless. I could not stop him. I could not protect myself. If he made the choice to rip me to shreds with his tongue or his hands, there was nothing I could do to stop him. Trust me. I tried. I would try to be kind and I would try to be strong and I would try to talk him down from his anger... and then I just quit trying. I would yell and scream and cry. Then I gave that up. By the end, I felt so dead and cold inside. His words could not hurt me anymore because quite honestly, there was nothing left that he had not already destroyed.

Today? I heard Castro's comments. I felt an initial flash of fear, nausea, anger. But, I was able to talk myself into calming down. I have a wonderful therapist who is teaching me tools to deal with these triggers. I have a life that no longer involves that abuse. I have people who love me. Most importantly, I have a house that is free from abuse. My children and I are able to communicate with each other without tearing each other down. When we make mistakes we take responsibility. We deal with issues before we go to bed so that the air is clean each night and each morning. We forgive, we love, we fight against each other at times, but more often we are fighting for each other.

I still fight against fear. It is a daily battle at times. I lived with the horror of abuse for a long time. One thing that helps me though is knowing that I am not the only one. Other women have heard the same words come from their abusers mouth. I am not crazy, I did not ask for what I got. Today, I am a fighter. I have survived.
I am a builder (or rebuilder). I have rebuilt out of the rubble. I have not done this alone. God has sustained me every step of the way. People have supported me. My children have given me the drive to keep fighting for a new life. And just once in a while now? I am able to speak hope and life to another woman. I was asked recently what is one dream I have that I would like to realize in my lifetime? I want to speak for those who have not found their voice yet. I want to champion for those who do not realize they can win yet. I want to lend my strength as others have lent strength to me. And that is how I will put all of this messiness in a package and tie it with a ribbon. I will be able one day to look back and know that what was done to me in ugliness did not make me ugly, it gave me the opportunity to become stronger. What one man meant as evil and destruction will no longer define me. I will allow this to be the catalyst that God uses to show grace and compassion for others. I will not allow this person or these circumstances to make me hard or bitter. I will instead look for the life and the beauty that can be shared with another victim. I will let peace be my prize and hope be my prodder and God be my healer.

How did this happen?

Haha, I found this old post that I had started and never published... Good times, good times.

My oldest son starts high school. My youngest daughter starts kindergarten. My middle son, you know, the one who never rocks the boat? His voice is changing. Puberty is happening. He is now exactly my height. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

I don't care what you say. I am just not old enough or ready enough for my son to enter high school. Or, my daughter, my long awaited for daughter... the special surprise in my life.... she is MOST DEFINITELY not starting kindergarten.

So, I have seriously cried tonight. Mostly? Well, I'm not sure I can really describe it all. I feel so inadequate at actually catching all of my emotions well. My children... they are beautiful. They are amazing, they are normal and broken human beings. BUT, they are beautiful. They are strong, they light up my world. They are unruffled by little things. They are unmoved by the inconsequential.

TONIGHT, my daughter and I got to spend quality time planning her wedding. She is 5. Well, almost, she will be 5 on Wednesday.  I was at the hairdresser's having my gray's covered. I brought her along so that the boys could have a break from babysitting all week while I was at work. Somehow, we ended up looking at a bridal magazine and talking weddings. She totally loves hot pink. She plans on wearing hot pink lipstick at her wedding.

My boys, they stayed home and waited for me to hit the grocery store after the hairdresser. That is what teenagers care about. And when I got home? We watched a show we all love. I managed to start crying over a sitcom. They laughed. All was right with the world.

But now I sit in my dining room and contemplate all that has happened and will happen in this next week. I cried today, not just because my oldest starts high school and my youngest starts kindergarten all in the same year. Um, hello, that does not happen for many. I cried today because I realize it is all going so fast. The school year flies by. The sports seasons fly by. I sit in rain, snow, heat and the dark. I watch basketball, football, track and field and ballet. I love it all. Every single second of each practice that I see, each performance that they give... I love it.

 I won't be able to share any more ultrasound pictures, or heartbeats on the monitors. I cannot recapture the moment of birth, that first cry, all those special moments. I won't have any other children. This is the first time that this reality has hit me hard. I am okay with it, but, there is a certain amount of bittersweetness that goes along with this part of life. I will never be able to live the fresh start of life again. Well, until I am a grandmother. Which, truth be told, better be a very long time from now. And yet, nothing stops me from the silly teary eyed moments of being a mom. You know, the ones where your kids look at you and think you are crazy. Your teenagers roll their eyes. Your baby actually still kisses you in return. Oh God, I love this. I love every single crazy, bizarre, painful, exciting moment. I love them all.

My sweet babies are growing up and I can't stop that. But, I am here for the ride. I am documenting the memories, and I am remembering the past.

I walked my oldest son to his kindergarten class. By Friday, I will walk my final baby to her first day
of class. Oh, did I mention I don't know how this happened? I am pretty sure more is to come.

Frankly, how much humor is to be found in one child in elementary school, one child in middle school and one child in high school. AND I'M A SINGLE MOM? Laughing all the way to the non-filled bank.

What I am learning about love

February 10, 2013

It is almost that time that I really don't care for any longer. The only good thing about the approaching day is it is my Papa's birthday and I really love him a lot. But, I have been learning and thinking and reflecting.... and oh yeah, I have to post a blog or the blog man-in-charge will delete all my stuff altogether. So, I might as well blog again.

What I am learning about love? Before you get to crazy, I am not just referring to romantic love... all kinds of love, friendship love (for those well versed christians among us that is the phileo love), the eros (try and figure out what that refers to) and the down deep, satisfies your soul, leaves you more whole than broken kind of love.

First, it is real. Love exists. It is not just a feeling. There has to be some emotion, some connection, some kind of feeling to even get you interested in sharing love with another person. Let's face it... we just don't connect with every living being in the universe. I don't even like all cats. But, love is not just a feeling. It is a choice, it is an action, it is a feeling. It has to have all three components. But, because God is, at His very essence, LOVE, then love does exist and is all around us.

Second, love can devastate us. Love can come into our life slowly, or unexpectedly. But, the minute we embrace it, it has the power to devastate us. I could theologically dissect this all day long, but, I won't for now.

Love can heal us. I do want to dissect this a little more. Since God is love, of course love can heal us. He is also a healer... he is close to the broken hearted, you know, all that good stuff. But, to break it down a little, it is the people that we choose to entrust ourselves to that can devastate or be a channel of healing as well.

Whether it is the friends I spend my precious free time with, or a man I choose to date or my family who I don't see every day but I don't have to doubt or question their love for me... when I open up my heart and let someone in, I am finding that there is some healing that happens. Each moment that I spend with my God, there is ultimate healing that happens in those moments. One thing I am enjoying is finding how love, in all its forms changes and reveals more of myself to me.

The one lesson I am learning? I get to choose. I can choose whether to allow love in, or protect myself. Just like God gave me the free will to choose Him or not choose Him, I have the free will to choose love or not. I have gone through times in the last three years in which I chose to close off and protect. I chose not to allow love in. Those were difficult and dark times, but I learned a lot. I closed myself off to even my closest friends. It was my choice. But, the day came when I realized I was not satisfied with that. Yes, there needed to be some protection for a while to get back to some kind of even keel, but, I could not stay there. Now, there are times that I choose not to let someone in, an acquaintance will simply remain an acquaintance, a friend does not get to come further into the next circle, a date does not get to know anything about the real me. But, I also choose to let the opposite happen, when I see that there is something inside a person that warrants my time, my attention and my trust.

I am still learning a lot. I don't have this all figured out. Let's face it, my blog, in some ways, is my journal that I choose to share. I will continue to learn more about love, about people and about the very Creator of Love. I am really looking forward to those lessons.

I do know there are two things that I would tell my children right now, after learning what I have learned up to this point.

1. God created love, let love in. Let Him in. Allow yourself to be stretched. In that you will find out more about yourself, who you are, who God created you to be. You will find an incredible capacity to learn, to expand, and to live wider, deeper and truer by allowing love to be in your life.

2. You have the choice. So when you choose to let a person in, do it with the understanding that they are not God. They might let you down, they might hurt you, they might leave you wounded. And if the day comes that a person leaves you broken beyond recognition, forgive. You can choose to keep toxic things or people out of your life... but always forgive. Never ever close yourself off to God. He will start the healing... and then He will bring others into your life that will help continue the healing. He will always finish the healing one day as well. Whether it is your friend, (God forbid) your mother, or your lover... God will bring the healing, if you keep choosing love. Your really just choosing life and choosing Him. But, it's almost VD so I can say choose love. But, at the very same moment that a person can cause damage, God can also use other people to restore faith in humanity, to restore hope, and to bring a whole lot of laughter and contentment.

Oh the theological parallels that are running through my head, but there is not enough room here. Suffice to say, God and Love are so intertwined that they cannot be separated. And God and people are so intertwined that we cannot be separated. Never think that today is the sum total. Life is ever changing, always forcing us to make the choice to grow and become boring. I am not going to choose boring.