Last night I was watching the Michael J Fox special, and was so excited to hear him say that the way he gets through his life is to "do the next right thing". I have been preaching that message for quite a while now, and have instructed the girls to inscribe that statement on my tombstone.
Bill Murray was golfing with him and the conversation included Michael's thoughts on that the next right things might be. Bill commented on the signficance of it being the next "right thing" versus the "next thing right". I am wondering if it matters so terribly much that I do the next thing 'right' - or if it is more important that I do the 'next thing' and not fret about doing it so right. I don't mean to do 'it' less than right - but where do I place the emphasis.
So - for instance, I am packing for our move. I decided that I would sort all of Bob's books alphabetically by author, and pack them that way. I further divided them by hard back and paper back. Then again by fiction and non-fiction. Why? you ask, - I knew you would - and I have the answer - because it makes it easier to unpack and put on the shelves....and I had some time, and I could do it in small sections and steps. I think I did the next right thing, right. NOW, when it is June 1st, and I am downstairs sorting hardbacks, and not getting the boxes onto the truck because I have am not finshed sorting them out - my focus must shift to doing the right thing - not so right - just getting it done.
I was fretting about what I perceive to be a lack of available jobs in Joliet, for me, that are the kind of nursing position that I am looking for. Bob reminded me that every job I have had, has been a miracle job, that almost dropped into my lap. And he is right. And the thing that I did, was to do the next thing that came along. Sometimes that meant taking the risk of opening my mouth (opening my mouth is not the risk - ok maybe it is) - and saying something to someone.
OR going to a job fair, and saying " I am looking for a job, but not just any job, something that lets me use everything that I have learned in the last 20 years..." - and being hired as a University Liaison - a position that had just been created, and did not have a job description.
So - the next right thing for me? Go home and go to bed - I am on call tomorrow - for 24 hours, and am on the last hour of the 3 day 12 hour shift stretch - so I am tired. And on the way home - stop at Panda Express and buy orange chicken. Because that is what Evangeline wants, and I want what she wants.......................
Friday, May 8, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
my autobiography up to this date
This facebook thing has sent me into abit of a spin.
I feel like I am meeting myself coming around the last circle of information and updates.
And just when I think I might have brought all of my facebook friends up to date on our life and times, here comes another friend....asking....where have you been, what have you done, how did you end up where you are, when did you move, why are you moving...................................
and so, I have decided to post a blog that will chronicle the Robert DeKlavon family doings up to this date....and I will start with when we got married...Bob and I that is.
After 5 1/2 years of dating, I stated to the love of my life, that he was not able to make a decision about the direction of our relationship, by the end of February, then the decision would be made for him.. I had an application for Nurses Christian Fellowship on my desk, and had finally decided that in spite of the fact that I really did want a future with him, I had moved to Chicago to see if that future was possible, I was not willing to drag the relationship out any longer. And VOILA, the earth moved, the DeKlavon decided, and by March 1st we were engaged to be married. In spite of the air traffic controllers strike, and the cancelling of all flights, I was able to get out of Chicago one day early, and get to Miami for our lovely wedding. We returned to Chicago after a week of hurricane threat and recovery, and were soon confronted with record setting cold weather. Reminiscent of my decision to move as far south as possible upon high school graduation, we headed south after Bob finished his Master of Divinity program at TEDS.
Four years in Bradenton, FL cemented a love for the west coast of Florida, and as we have realized in the following years (make that decades), is totally our favorite place to live. SO - prophetically - 15 years from now, anticipate a change of address card notifying you that we have returned to the south and been reunited with our hearts. Kind of sounds like that song "I left my heart, in San Francisco...........make that I left my heart, in the land of De Soto......I digress. Why this sentiment? Maybe because this is where we started our family, and connected with friends who we came to really love and treasure.
My heel marks are still visible on I-75 heading south, as God moved us to Fort Myers, where Bob accepted a Pastorate and the new and struggling Ft. Myers Evangelical Free Church. I left a super support system, and was scared to death....two children under two - well really - one was one year and 6 months old, and the other 11 months. I remember sitting on the floor of the borrowed house into which we had moved, and holding both girls tightly, crying and saying - its you two, and me now girls...... Fortunately, I landed in a Bible Study where I met my first best friend, and my sanity was saved, or at least I didn't totally go over the edge. It took several years, and gradually, I came to really like my home, my church, my job, and my friends. We bought a house, and lived there for all but two years of our time in Ft. Myers. We moved there in 1986, and left in 2005 - so I guess that was 19 years.....almost to the day.
During our time in Ft. Myers, I found my nursing best unit - the recovery room, went to Grad school and got an MA, we weathered the years of parenting, church growth, building church buildings, and home additions. I remember Bob saying "I could retire in this town" - and I exclaimed "Retire from this town maybe, but not in this town". I frequently wanted to move, and wondered why we would be in the same church for so many years when the average stay of a Pastor is less than five years. We knew it was time to leave, and if you read previous posts, you will realize that the moving away from Ft. Myers was one of the most painful experiences of my entire life, I know that it was the only thing that we could have or should have done.
In Sept. of 2005, we came to Hiram, GA to plant an Evangelical Free Church. In the last four years we have made and lost friends, floundered, despaired, battled our belief in God's call on our life, and concluded that even though we really did believe that we came here to plant a church, God's plan was different than our plan. And so - Bob has accepted, and begun, a Pastorate in Joliet, IL. Faith Bible Church is 75 years old, and has been an Evangelical Free Church (our denomination of choice) for two (+). As I headed south to visit my parents (who retired in Bradenton, FL by the way - see a trend here?), Bob headed north to Chicago. He is in a little bachelor apartment. Elizabeth (who graduated in April 2008 from Indiana Wesleyan University) is at L'abri England, Evangeline is finishing her GED program - and her son Wesley - 3 years old - shares the three bedroom basement apartment in our home. I am working in a recovery room at a near by hospital - after 4 years of working in professional development - and have given notice that my last day will be May 15th. We will all pack up and move enmasse to the suburbs of the city where we started this saga almost 28 years ago............
Because we have been in a wilderness for the last four years, we are so grateful that God has called us to an area where He already has posted some of our very best friends. My college best friend lives less than two hours away in Mishawaka, IN, my first Ft. Myers friend lives in Bridgman MI- straight across Lake Michigan, and Bob's all time forever best friend lives in Crete, IL which is only 45 minutes from Joliet..............So even though our outside person will be FREEZING cold - our hearts will be toasty warm........and don't forget - we are heading south again one day :)
hope this helps you fill in the gap that was left since our last meeting......Janice
I feel like I am meeting myself coming around the last circle of information and updates.
And just when I think I might have brought all of my facebook friends up to date on our life and times, here comes another friend....asking....where have you been, what have you done, how did you end up where you are, when did you move, why are you moving...................................
and so, I have decided to post a blog that will chronicle the Robert DeKlavon family doings up to this date....and I will start with when we got married...Bob and I that is.
After 5 1/2 years of dating, I stated to the love of my life, that he was not able to make a decision about the direction of our relationship, by the end of February, then the decision would be made for him.. I had an application for Nurses Christian Fellowship on my desk, and had finally decided that in spite of the fact that I really did want a future with him, I had moved to Chicago to see if that future was possible, I was not willing to drag the relationship out any longer. And VOILA, the earth moved, the DeKlavon decided, and by March 1st we were engaged to be married. In spite of the air traffic controllers strike, and the cancelling of all flights, I was able to get out of Chicago one day early, and get to Miami for our lovely wedding. We returned to Chicago after a week of hurricane threat and recovery, and were soon confronted with record setting cold weather. Reminiscent of my decision to move as far south as possible upon high school graduation, we headed south after Bob finished his Master of Divinity program at TEDS.
Four years in Bradenton, FL cemented a love for the west coast of Florida, and as we have realized in the following years (make that decades), is totally our favorite place to live. SO - prophetically - 15 years from now, anticipate a change of address card notifying you that we have returned to the south and been reunited with our hearts. Kind of sounds like that song "I left my heart, in San Francisco...........make that I left my heart, in the land of De Soto......I digress. Why this sentiment? Maybe because this is where we started our family, and connected with friends who we came to really love and treasure.
My heel marks are still visible on I-75 heading south, as God moved us to Fort Myers, where Bob accepted a Pastorate and the new and struggling Ft. Myers Evangelical Free Church. I left a super support system, and was scared to death....two children under two - well really - one was one year and 6 months old, and the other 11 months. I remember sitting on the floor of the borrowed house into which we had moved, and holding both girls tightly, crying and saying - its you two, and me now girls...... Fortunately, I landed in a Bible Study where I met my first best friend, and my sanity was saved, or at least I didn't totally go over the edge. It took several years, and gradually, I came to really like my home, my church, my job, and my friends. We bought a house, and lived there for all but two years of our time in Ft. Myers. We moved there in 1986, and left in 2005 - so I guess that was 19 years.....almost to the day.
During our time in Ft. Myers, I found my nursing best unit - the recovery room, went to Grad school and got an MA, we weathered the years of parenting, church growth, building church buildings, and home additions. I remember Bob saying "I could retire in this town" - and I exclaimed "Retire from this town maybe, but not in this town". I frequently wanted to move, and wondered why we would be in the same church for so many years when the average stay of a Pastor is less than five years. We knew it was time to leave, and if you read previous posts, you will realize that the moving away from Ft. Myers was one of the most painful experiences of my entire life, I know that it was the only thing that we could have or should have done.
In Sept. of 2005, we came to Hiram, GA to plant an Evangelical Free Church. In the last four years we have made and lost friends, floundered, despaired, battled our belief in God's call on our life, and concluded that even though we really did believe that we came here to plant a church, God's plan was different than our plan. And so - Bob has accepted, and begun, a Pastorate in Joliet, IL. Faith Bible Church is 75 years old, and has been an Evangelical Free Church (our denomination of choice) for two (+). As I headed south to visit my parents (who retired in Bradenton, FL by the way - see a trend here?), Bob headed north to Chicago. He is in a little bachelor apartment. Elizabeth (who graduated in April 2008 from Indiana Wesleyan University) is at L'abri England, Evangeline is finishing her GED program - and her son Wesley - 3 years old - shares the three bedroom basement apartment in our home. I am working in a recovery room at a near by hospital - after 4 years of working in professional development - and have given notice that my last day will be May 15th. We will all pack up and move enmasse to the suburbs of the city where we started this saga almost 28 years ago............
Because we have been in a wilderness for the last four years, we are so grateful that God has called us to an area where He already has posted some of our very best friends. My college best friend lives less than two hours away in Mishawaka, IN, my first Ft. Myers friend lives in Bridgman MI- straight across Lake Michigan, and Bob's all time forever best friend lives in Crete, IL which is only 45 minutes from Joliet..............So even though our outside person will be FREEZING cold - our hearts will be toasty warm........and don't forget - we are heading south again one day :)
hope this helps you fill in the gap that was left since our last meeting......Janice
Sunday, February 8, 2009
pen or pencil
One of my most treasured possesions is an address book. It was given to me by my diaper day best-friend - Bev. I was getting ready to leave Miami for Chicago - chasing Bob - and my roomate threw a goodbye party for me. This was in July 1980 - each guest brought me a gift that reminded them of our relationship. One gift was a candle - made to look exactly like a taco - from my Taco Viva companion. Bev brought an address book, with a Norman Rockwell picture on the front. Norman is my all time favorite artist. I wrote the addresses in that book in pencil. This was something that I had read about in a women's magazine. That way when an "addressee" moved, I could easily erase the old address and write in the new one. In the transitory society of our world, it seemed best to keep things easily changed. Besides, I like things neat and orderly.......
I used that book until the summer of 2001 when it was replaced with a Mary Englebreit address book. Mary has become a close favorite to Norman. The old book was falling apart.
When I transferred the addresses from Norman to Mary - I noticed that some of the entries had been erased and re-written so many times, there was a worn spot on the page. There were others, that hadn't been changed since 1980.
This past fall John and Victoria moved. I went to change the address in my ME book, and noted that - in this new book, the lines for the Bedford's home address was nearly worn through the page. Had I written the addresses in ink there would have been a rich chronology of their life. At least since I had met them.
DeJong's address is the same in the old book and in the new....
Bowles address is still on the change of address card tucked into the "b" page
Frosts - the same - granted, the Ft. Myers E. Free church directory was the depository for their address, but there was one for Ft. Myers and one for Lakeland.
Jack and Linda - the same for 23 years....
Dave and Jana - I think I've kept up
Lorraine - I could have written that one in ink.
Cheryl and Michelle - I might be able to change from pencil to pen
all this is leading to this thought......is "this" friendship ink or pencil? We've been living in GA for 3 1/2 years now - and Bob has moved to Chicago - with plans for me to follow after the great thaw. I have made friends. I have really nice neighbors. I work with a great group of people. Since moving here - and having left the community that I lived in for 18 years - I am realizing how important friendships are to me. Well, actually, not REALIZING, but rather, recognizing, how imortant friendships are to me. And in contemplating this, the reality that some friendships are temporary (in pencil) - and some are permanent (in ink) has become very real to me.
My neighbors are pencil friends - as I suspect my work friends will be. My ink friends will not be totally known to me until I move away, and the relationship is challenged by distance.
I am so grateful for my ink friends, and I am learning to let the pencil friends, be just that, friendships that cannot/should not/ don't need/ to be permanent. I have fretted and stewed over the friendships that I had hoped would be ink, but turn out to be pencil, and that is wasted energy - let it go !!! I am determining to enjoy pen for pen and pencil for pencil. The great thing is, once a friend is an ink friend, they will ALWAYS be an ink friend - even if they don't know it.
To all my ink friends - Thanks - your friendship means more to me than I can ever find the words to express..........................................
I used that book until the summer of 2001 when it was replaced with a Mary Englebreit address book. Mary has become a close favorite to Norman. The old book was falling apart.
When I transferred the addresses from Norman to Mary - I noticed that some of the entries had been erased and re-written so many times, there was a worn spot on the page. There were others, that hadn't been changed since 1980.
This past fall John and Victoria moved. I went to change the address in my ME book, and noted that - in this new book, the lines for the Bedford's home address was nearly worn through the page. Had I written the addresses in ink there would have been a rich chronology of their life. At least since I had met them.
DeJong's address is the same in the old book and in the new....
Bowles address is still on the change of address card tucked into the "b" page
Frosts - the same - granted, the Ft. Myers E. Free church directory was the depository for their address, but there was one for Ft. Myers and one for Lakeland.
Jack and Linda - the same for 23 years....
Dave and Jana - I think I've kept up
Lorraine - I could have written that one in ink.
Cheryl and Michelle - I might be able to change from pencil to pen
all this is leading to this thought......is "this" friendship ink or pencil? We've been living in GA for 3 1/2 years now - and Bob has moved to Chicago - with plans for me to follow after the great thaw. I have made friends. I have really nice neighbors. I work with a great group of people. Since moving here - and having left the community that I lived in for 18 years - I am realizing how important friendships are to me. Well, actually, not REALIZING, but rather, recognizing, how imortant friendships are to me. And in contemplating this, the reality that some friendships are temporary (in pencil) - and some are permanent (in ink) has become very real to me.
My neighbors are pencil friends - as I suspect my work friends will be. My ink friends will not be totally known to me until I move away, and the relationship is challenged by distance.
I am so grateful for my ink friends, and I am learning to let the pencil friends, be just that, friendships that cannot/should not/ don't need/ to be permanent. I have fretted and stewed over the friendships that I had hoped would be ink, but turn out to be pencil, and that is wasted energy - let it go !!! I am determining to enjoy pen for pen and pencil for pencil. The great thing is, once a friend is an ink friend, they will ALWAYS be an ink friend - even if they don't know it.
To all my ink friends - Thanks - your friendship means more to me than I can ever find the words to express..........................................
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Out of excuses
I have a ton of excuses - all justifying not having any time - or energy to post an entry on this blog.
- My desk is covered with papers - ads from K-Mart, Penney's, Linens n Things; the notification to renew my RN license ( I did that yesterday - so should throw that one away); a bank statement - you KNOW what I SHOULD do with that one; receipts from purchases made in the last few weeks. On top of the papers sits a paperback book, a deck of cards (why is that there?) a remote control, and just for now - my cup of coffee. Next to the pile is a flashlight, the alarm clock that I have had since 1975 ( I could do a whole blog just on that alarm clock/radio/8 track tape player - I asked for a new clock radio for Christmas and was met with great resistance from the tradionalist - Evangeline), the Paulding County library card (never used - Bob is my personal assistant and he uses his card), a sleep sound machine; and this desk top computer ( the computer is supposed to go downstairs in Bob's study, but he doesn't have a live phone line, and his electric is "extension corded" in from the next room - another possible blog entry), and a business card from Ron Blue & Co. waiting for me to e-mail Bruce Whaley (he married Lisa Betts who was in Bob's youth group in Bradenton - 25 years ago - old friends not soon forgotten - just not contacted! - ok I'll do that today) And oh yes - on top of the clock (it's a big clock) sits a box of kleenex (another blog topic) and the phone charger.
And those are just the I can't concentrate at the computer keyboard excuses - here come the rest.......since there are no entries since October - I have two and a half months of excuses.
One - I am not in a pit - thank-you to my dear friends who have called and encouraged, distracted and infused me with love, I am not in a pit. I live next to it. But WOW what a difference than IN it.
Two - Evangeline does not have a job. BUT - she is back in school - studying to become a Certified Medical Assistant - in a CRASH course - so spends every night doing workbooks, and studying for exams. Pretty laugh out loud funny to hear Bob quizzing her on the Gynecological exam process. She FREAKED out at the thought of having to learn to draw blood - so I spent last Saturday teaching her phlebotomy - and by Saturday late afternoon she successfully drew blood from both of Bob's arms......now she is begging for practice time (another blog potential).
Three - I flew to Florida for a weekend - squeezed in a few visits with old friends, shopped at the Miramar outlets, and did a consulting job for a dear friend and her associate in an alarm business. I was even able to manage an overnight with my parents on the way back to the airport.
Four - Elizabeth was home for the Thanksgiving break. And as my Canadian friend Bev observed - Americans make a really big deal out of the Thanksgiving holiday.
Five - My first friend - Bev came to visit me for almost a whole week. She lives in BC, and the last time we were together was 7 years ago- at her house. We went to a play in the Marietta Square, out to dinner, cooked the Thanksgiving dinner, introduced her to friends, walked the rural streets in the rural neighborhood where we live, had massages ( thanks to a B'day regift and a gift from Evangeline :) ) babysat Wesley; went to Atlanta twice - Met Debi Thompson Mangiameli and ate at the Flying Biscuit and had a coke at the Vortex, toured the CNN building went to Crosspoint on Sunday evening - had a BLAST, and I felt like I had had a tall glass of water on a hot summer day.
Six - Bob and I met the Mangiamelis at the Zigenbeins home in Cumming, GA. (those last names make our last name seem simple) - had dinner with them and a great time of reminiscing and laughing, getting to know each other again for the first time......
Seven - Its the holiday season and I am trying to shed the scrooge skipping Christmas persona which I have adopted as a protection ( another blog) - and put lights on the tree (another blog); have Christmas music playing in my office, and have even purchased some gifts. Now - where do I hide wrapped gifts from a 2 1/2 year old?
There - and those are just the excuses that are in past and present - I have future excuses too.
- My desk is covered with papers - ads from K-Mart, Penney's, Linens n Things; the notification to renew my RN license ( I did that yesterday - so should throw that one away); a bank statement - you KNOW what I SHOULD do with that one; receipts from purchases made in the last few weeks. On top of the papers sits a paperback book, a deck of cards (why is that there?) a remote control, and just for now - my cup of coffee. Next to the pile is a flashlight, the alarm clock that I have had since 1975 ( I could do a whole blog just on that alarm clock/radio/8 track tape player - I asked for a new clock radio for Christmas and was met with great resistance from the tradionalist - Evangeline), the Paulding County library card (never used - Bob is my personal assistant and he uses his card), a sleep sound machine; and this desk top computer ( the computer is supposed to go downstairs in Bob's study, but he doesn't have a live phone line, and his electric is "extension corded" in from the next room - another possible blog entry), and a business card from Ron Blue & Co. waiting for me to e-mail Bruce Whaley (he married Lisa Betts who was in Bob's youth group in Bradenton - 25 years ago - old friends not soon forgotten - just not contacted! - ok I'll do that today) And oh yes - on top of the clock (it's a big clock) sits a box of kleenex (another blog topic) and the phone charger.
And those are just the I can't concentrate at the computer keyboard excuses - here come the rest.......since there are no entries since October - I have two and a half months of excuses.
One - I am not in a pit - thank-you to my dear friends who have called and encouraged, distracted and infused me with love, I am not in a pit. I live next to it. But WOW what a difference than IN it.
Two - Evangeline does not have a job. BUT - she is back in school - studying to become a Certified Medical Assistant - in a CRASH course - so spends every night doing workbooks, and studying for exams. Pretty laugh out loud funny to hear Bob quizzing her on the Gynecological exam process. She FREAKED out at the thought of having to learn to draw blood - so I spent last Saturday teaching her phlebotomy - and by Saturday late afternoon she successfully drew blood from both of Bob's arms......now she is begging for practice time (another blog potential).
Three - I flew to Florida for a weekend - squeezed in a few visits with old friends, shopped at the Miramar outlets, and did a consulting job for a dear friend and her associate in an alarm business. I was even able to manage an overnight with my parents on the way back to the airport.
Four - Elizabeth was home for the Thanksgiving break. And as my Canadian friend Bev observed - Americans make a really big deal out of the Thanksgiving holiday.
Five - My first friend - Bev came to visit me for almost a whole week. She lives in BC, and the last time we were together was 7 years ago- at her house. We went to a play in the Marietta Square, out to dinner, cooked the Thanksgiving dinner, introduced her to friends, walked the rural streets in the rural neighborhood where we live, had massages ( thanks to a B'day regift and a gift from Evangeline :) ) babysat Wesley; went to Atlanta twice - Met Debi Thompson Mangiameli and ate at the Flying Biscuit and had a coke at the Vortex, toured the CNN building went to Crosspoint on Sunday evening - had a BLAST, and I felt like I had had a tall glass of water on a hot summer day.
Six - Bob and I met the Mangiamelis at the Zigenbeins home in Cumming, GA. (those last names make our last name seem simple) - had dinner with them and a great time of reminiscing and laughing, getting to know each other again for the first time......
Seven - Its the holiday season and I am trying to shed the scrooge skipping Christmas persona which I have adopted as a protection ( another blog) - and put lights on the tree (another blog); have Christmas music playing in my office, and have even purchased some gifts. Now - where do I hide wrapped gifts from a 2 1/2 year old?
There - and those are just the excuses that are in past and present - I have future excuses too.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Time - the trick to remember
My sister had a birthday last week. Iwas supposed to write a poem for this birthday - one that would be read - aloud - in the presence of other people who had written poems.
I did succomb to temptation though - able to resist the urge but for a minute - and googled poems about turning 50. Those of you who are swift thinkers will figure out very quickly that if she is 50 - then I am 52. Or soon will be.
"at one time i would have not believedthat i could have livedto reach this agebut youth is never notedfor dealing with the pangs of mortalityneither is fiftythe trick is to pretendthat where you are in lifeis where you have always been,perhaps that is the illusionwhich keeps us sane"
That is my googled turning 50 poem. I did not write it, and I only shared a little bit with you, and no I didn't purposely not punctuate it, that is just how it pasted.........but it did ring a bell in my head...the line - 'the trick is to pretend that where you are in life is where you have always been' .
I have never really thought of that - in those words - where I am is where I've always been. Why does that fit so well? Why does last week feel so far away. And last year - well like it was yesterday. Time seems to stand still and fly - both - at the same time. It's a phenomenon.
Evangeline and Wesley moved home last Thursday, 3 days before the poem deadline. Time came to a screaching halt, and stood there, looking me in the eye - taunting me to just try to return to life as it had been. And then the last surviving computer died. And the trick was - to pretend that the way things were at that moment was the way they had always been. Because to know that things were different now, would mean, a new adjustment, a different routine, or no routine, or no adjustment, just constant un predictable behavior and response and.........hanging there - in mid air. My home away from home.
Back to the poem - I put words to her altime favorite piano performing hymn......and talked our youngest sis into signing to it....everyone laughed, and let out a sigh of relief...they were supposed to see it as humourous.
And now I am home, and time is both flying by and things are as they have always been. At least that is how it seems.
My response to this lovely invitation to create a prose of purposeful remembrance was less than enthusiastic.
The rebel in me screamed "NO I will not do that; I can not, will not, write a poem, I have no rhyming tones or groans.............." But I am older now, and calmer, and not so rebellious and stubborn, and I have, at long last, given my temper to God. I mailed it - packed it up in a box and took it to the post office....I didn't have it insured - didn't care if it got lost - in fact I so didn't care, that I left the return address off of the label.
I did succomb to temptation though - able to resist the urge but for a minute - and googled poems about turning 50. Those of you who are swift thinkers will figure out very quickly that if she is 50 - then I am 52. Or soon will be.
"at one time i would have not believedthat i could have livedto reach this agebut youth is never notedfor dealing with the pangs of mortalityneither is fiftythe trick is to pretendthat where you are in lifeis where you have always been,perhaps that is the illusionwhich keeps us sane"
That is my googled turning 50 poem. I did not write it, and I only shared a little bit with you, and no I didn't purposely not punctuate it, that is just how it pasted.........but it did ring a bell in my head...the line - 'the trick is to pretend that where you are in life is where you have always been' .
I have never really thought of that - in those words - where I am is where I've always been. Why does that fit so well? Why does last week feel so far away. And last year - well like it was yesterday. Time seems to stand still and fly - both - at the same time. It's a phenomenon.
Evangeline and Wesley moved home last Thursday, 3 days before the poem deadline. Time came to a screaching halt, and stood there, looking me in the eye - taunting me to just try to return to life as it had been. And then the last surviving computer died. And the trick was - to pretend that the way things were at that moment was the way they had always been. Because to know that things were different now, would mean, a new adjustment, a different routine, or no routine, or no adjustment, just constant un predictable behavior and response and.........hanging there - in mid air. My home away from home.
Back to the poem - I put words to her altime favorite piano performing hymn......and talked our youngest sis into signing to it....everyone laughed, and let out a sigh of relief...they were supposed to see it as humourous.
And now I am home, and time is both flying by and things are as they have always been. At least that is how it seems.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Stood up
I am disappointed - not sad- not mad - not glad - not depressed - not unhappy - just disappointed -
Actually I hadn't thought about being stood up. Well not since last Friday - until I went to my book club meeting last night. I was greeted with "so - did anonymous show up?"
And I had to say - "no" "no - anonymous did not show".
Now, I have to wonder - does anonymous exist?
And I have to say - yes - I believe she does. I've moved into a sherlock mode...got out the "maginizing glass" and started to investigate. It is not that I am ignoring the advice to 'let it go' - that advice coming from several sources. And it is not that I am haunted by the challenge from anonymous. My awesome husband - my love of 26 years - and I had a little dispute as to whether I should go to Starbucks. He really doesn't understand why this is important to me. I wasn't sure either - except that I really hate to be mis understood. I was smaller, slower, younger, laster than any of my child hood friends. And I learned at an early age that I could keep up with my words. My words came fast, and they came hot. What I couldn't do physically, I did verbally. And I was often misunderstood. The other disadvantage that I had was - I had eyes. Expressive, open, can't hide behind eyes. So - I gave up - I might as well just say it. It will be assumed that I thought it.
So - I'll just say it - did anonymous not show for fear - that maybe anonymity is safer - and that is the REAL reason for hiding her identity. Or is it because Anonymous is holding on to her version of how things transpired....and that hearing another version - the perspective of the one who experienced the meetings, was there, present in the room, heard the words, asked the questions, first hand - not through another's interpretation....would mean - well what would that mean? Maybe anonymous was in the booth next to the table at Bob Evans, and heard the whole congregation - which would make for an interesting comparison of the conversation that led to the resignation, that led to the interpretation, and the proclamation, that led to the transportation, that led to the motivation - that led to this.........where I am - where am. SO - to whoever sent the Blog link to someone I didn't send it to - it's made for alot of interesting conversations - here - in Hiram, GA.
Just disappointed
Actually I hadn't thought about being stood up. Well not since last Friday - until I went to my book club meeting last night. I was greeted with "so - did anonymous show up?"
And I had to say - "no" "no - anonymous did not show".
Now, I have to wonder - does anonymous exist?
And I have to say - yes - I believe she does. I've moved into a sherlock mode...got out the "maginizing glass" and started to investigate. It is not that I am ignoring the advice to 'let it go' - that advice coming from several sources. And it is not that I am haunted by the challenge from anonymous. My awesome husband - my love of 26 years - and I had a little dispute as to whether I should go to Starbucks. He really doesn't understand why this is important to me. I wasn't sure either - except that I really hate to be mis understood. I was smaller, slower, younger, laster than any of my child hood friends. And I learned at an early age that I could keep up with my words. My words came fast, and they came hot. What I couldn't do physically, I did verbally. And I was often misunderstood. The other disadvantage that I had was - I had eyes. Expressive, open, can't hide behind eyes. So - I gave up - I might as well just say it. It will be assumed that I thought it.
So - I'll just say it - did anonymous not show for fear - that maybe anonymity is safer - and that is the REAL reason for hiding her identity. Or is it because Anonymous is holding on to her version of how things transpired....and that hearing another version - the perspective of the one who experienced the meetings, was there, present in the room, heard the words, asked the questions, first hand - not through another's interpretation....would mean - well what would that mean? Maybe anonymous was in the booth next to the table at Bob Evans, and heard the whole congregation - which would make for an interesting comparison of the conversation that led to the resignation, that led to the interpretation, and the proclamation, that led to the transportation, that led to the motivation - that led to this.........where I am - where am. SO - to whoever sent the Blog link to someone I didn't send it to - it's made for alot of interesting conversations - here - in Hiram, GA.
Just disappointed
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Hey there - Anonymous
when can we meet at Starbucks - seriously -
Thursday evening? that would be the 13th - say 7pm - at the Starbucks - Rte 278 in Hiram - not the one in Target -
hopefully - Janice
Thursday evening? that would be the 13th - say 7pm - at the Starbucks - Rte 278 in Hiram - not the one in Target -
hopefully - Janice
Living on the Edge of Hope
Living on the edge - the edge of what?
It could be the cutting edge -
or the edge of the precipice -
or the edge of a cliff -
or the edge of happiness -
But - tonight it is on the edge of hope -
The sky is calm, a little dusky - dark really - like an impending thunderstorm without the big clouds. There is a breeze - and a dusting of dribble from the sky. I've been here before - I recognize the smell, the brush of soft encouragement on my cheek, the breeze on my forearm as I reach out to push the hair out of my eyes. (When is that haircut appointment?) It's a pensive sense, a familiar anticipation without the confidence of knowing. Not quite like it was when we were living with our feet firmly planted in mid-air, or when I was slogging through the trough of despair, or even when I take up residence in the pit - hang the home sweet home sampler up, put on a pot of coffee, and wallow in the muck that makes it so safe. What or who would want to visit me here? I can count on not having to think about anyone but me - who would want to join me?
The edge of hope is up and out of that - it is like - sitting on the dock of Lime Lake - with my toes barely skimming the surface. Or standing at the edge of the Atlantic - flip flops in hand, staring out, amazed at how close and yet how far away I was. Wondering at the wonder - of the same water droplet splashing my ankles and then flowing back out - farther away then I could ever go..............
The edge of hope is seeing the light in the distance, knowing I can't get there any faster than the plane will fly or the train will rumble. That wishing for speed does not move me faster, and that I will only regret what I didn't get to see - cause I was so busy looking ahead that I didn't see the here.
The edge of hope is like letting go of something, fearing it will fall with a crash to the ground, forever, irrepairably (I should have a dictionary with me) damaged, and instead having it drop fast, too fast, and then suddenly take up it's own weight, and drift.........slowly - out of my sight where I can't reach for it - and take it back -
The edge of hope is dialing the phone number and knowing that even if it goes to voice mail - the voice will be familiar and safe, and soon there will be a message on my voice mail - playing tag - not teasing -but laughing - hopefully - to connect another day - really connect - the pick up where we left off connect, the I am safe with you - can cry and laugh in the same breath connect.
The edge of hope is - now.
It could be the cutting edge -
or the edge of the precipice -
or the edge of a cliff -
or the edge of happiness -
But - tonight it is on the edge of hope -
The sky is calm, a little dusky - dark really - like an impending thunderstorm without the big clouds. There is a breeze - and a dusting of dribble from the sky. I've been here before - I recognize the smell, the brush of soft encouragement on my cheek, the breeze on my forearm as I reach out to push the hair out of my eyes. (When is that haircut appointment?) It's a pensive sense, a familiar anticipation without the confidence of knowing. Not quite like it was when we were living with our feet firmly planted in mid-air, or when I was slogging through the trough of despair, or even when I take up residence in the pit - hang the home sweet home sampler up, put on a pot of coffee, and wallow in the muck that makes it so safe. What or who would want to visit me here? I can count on not having to think about anyone but me - who would want to join me?
The edge of hope is up and out of that - it is like - sitting on the dock of Lime Lake - with my toes barely skimming the surface. Or standing at the edge of the Atlantic - flip flops in hand, staring out, amazed at how close and yet how far away I was. Wondering at the wonder - of the same water droplet splashing my ankles and then flowing back out - farther away then I could ever go..............
The edge of hope is seeing the light in the distance, knowing I can't get there any faster than the plane will fly or the train will rumble. That wishing for speed does not move me faster, and that I will only regret what I didn't get to see - cause I was so busy looking ahead that I didn't see the here.
The edge of hope is like letting go of something, fearing it will fall with a crash to the ground, forever, irrepairably (I should have a dictionary with me) damaged, and instead having it drop fast, too fast, and then suddenly take up it's own weight, and drift.........slowly - out of my sight where I can't reach for it - and take it back -
The edge of hope is dialing the phone number and knowing that even if it goes to voice mail - the voice will be familiar and safe, and soon there will be a message on my voice mail - playing tag - not teasing -but laughing - hopefully - to connect another day - really connect - the pick up where we left off connect, the I am safe with you - can cry and laugh in the same breath connect.
The edge of hope is - now.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Dear Anonymous
Call if you would like to -
770-9+42-4204
you obviously have some insight that I should hear.
770-9+42-4204
you obviously have some insight that I should hear.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Faking it
What would it look like if I were out of the pit -
Well - I am really not sure - actually - I had a brain jog about that very thought - yesterday - I thought to myself - what if I wasn't in such a "funk" - what would I be doing -
I am a doing person - my tombstone will read - Why are you standing there - you know the next right thing to do -Now go and do it. My girls have promised that they will see that this is the way it is. In fact - when I asked them if I needed to write this wish of mine down - and put it in a safe place - so they would know what to have printed on that slab of concrete - Elizabeth ASSURED me - that they would not forget that line - they have heard it a ka zillion times...........
So back to the doing thing - I would make the curtain for the curtainless window - which would mean finding the foot pedal for the sewing machine and setting it up - finding an iron - I own 3 or 4 - and threading the machine and...........well you get the picture.
AND so - this morning - I popped out of bed - well - not really popped - but did get my bones out of the bed - and headed downstairs to the newly - re-cleaned out - space that has been designated my work area. I found an iron - still in it's unopened box - and the controls to the 26 year old Kenmore, and the fabric - which had been spread out on the sofa down there for a couple of months - just making sure that it would look okay in that room - and proceeded to move towards this doing that I would be doing if I wasn't so sad - not unhappy - sad - and there is a difference - and if I am the only one who thinks there is - that is fine with me - cause I am the one thinking this.
I realize that the scenario for not sadness is not complete unless I am listening to something, as this is also part of the not sad activity - I am not a silence person - silence is too noisy - which will become the content for another post. I knew where the cassette tapes were - cassettes from the 1970 and 80's - and so reached in the bin of about 50 of them - and retreived a Key Life relic. Steve Brown is one of the most honest and gut wrenchingly transparent teachers that I have ever known, and it has been an activity which I find great comfort in, to listen to his voice, and soak in his words......like a loud speaker straight from the edge of the pearly gates. Would you believe (I know you will - cause you know God works in strange and mysterious ways) - the tape was from his Wednesday night teachings on JOB !!!!!!!!! A paranthetical thought is that JOB could also aliterate - Janice OR Bob - anyway - it seemed appropriate - that I would listen to an hour (two sides) of Job - while sewing a curtain, ironing on the floor - as I couldn't find the ironing board, and faking my good mood - Steve has been heard to say - fake it til you make it.
The curtain looks great !! And my mood is better - not giving all of the credit to the fake it part - but it didn't hurt.
It also hasn't hurt that so many of my dear old friends have written, commented or called - and reconnected with me, resurrecting awesome memories, some happy and some sad, but all special and rich and part of the fabric of who I am, and am becoming. Just check out the comments.
Thank-you - and go get Beth Moore's out of the pit book.........it is fabulous. And thank-you Ken - the movie was SO funny - I laughed hard, and see reaching the beach and Cannes as a metaphor for Bob and my journey - all of the mishaps, misunderstandings, missteps and missed opporunities - you still get to the beach - and we will celebrate it with all of the fervor of Mr. Bean.
Well - I am really not sure - actually - I had a brain jog about that very thought - yesterday - I thought to myself - what if I wasn't in such a "funk" - what would I be doing -
I am a doing person - my tombstone will read - Why are you standing there - you know the next right thing to do -Now go and do it. My girls have promised that they will see that this is the way it is. In fact - when I asked them if I needed to write this wish of mine down - and put it in a safe place - so they would know what to have printed on that slab of concrete - Elizabeth ASSURED me - that they would not forget that line - they have heard it a ka zillion times...........
So back to the doing thing - I would make the curtain for the curtainless window - which would mean finding the foot pedal for the sewing machine and setting it up - finding an iron - I own 3 or 4 - and threading the machine and...........well you get the picture.
AND so - this morning - I popped out of bed - well - not really popped - but did get my bones out of the bed - and headed downstairs to the newly - re-cleaned out - space that has been designated my work area. I found an iron - still in it's unopened box - and the controls to the 26 year old Kenmore, and the fabric - which had been spread out on the sofa down there for a couple of months - just making sure that it would look okay in that room - and proceeded to move towards this doing that I would be doing if I wasn't so sad - not unhappy - sad - and there is a difference - and if I am the only one who thinks there is - that is fine with me - cause I am the one thinking this.
I realize that the scenario for not sadness is not complete unless I am listening to something, as this is also part of the not sad activity - I am not a silence person - silence is too noisy - which will become the content for another post. I knew where the cassette tapes were - cassettes from the 1970 and 80's - and so reached in the bin of about 50 of them - and retreived a Key Life relic. Steve Brown is one of the most honest and gut wrenchingly transparent teachers that I have ever known, and it has been an activity which I find great comfort in, to listen to his voice, and soak in his words......like a loud speaker straight from the edge of the pearly gates. Would you believe (I know you will - cause you know God works in strange and mysterious ways) - the tape was from his Wednesday night teachings on JOB !!!!!!!!! A paranthetical thought is that JOB could also aliterate - Janice OR Bob - anyway - it seemed appropriate - that I would listen to an hour (two sides) of Job - while sewing a curtain, ironing on the floor - as I couldn't find the ironing board, and faking my good mood - Steve has been heard to say - fake it til you make it.
The curtain looks great !! And my mood is better - not giving all of the credit to the fake it part - but it didn't hurt.
It also hasn't hurt that so many of my dear old friends have written, commented or called - and reconnected with me, resurrecting awesome memories, some happy and some sad, but all special and rich and part of the fabric of who I am, and am becoming. Just check out the comments.
Thank-you - and go get Beth Moore's out of the pit book.........it is fabulous. And thank-you Ken - the movie was SO funny - I laughed hard, and see reaching the beach and Cannes as a metaphor for Bob and my journey - all of the mishaps, misunderstandings, missteps and missed opporunities - you still get to the beach - and we will celebrate it with all of the fervor of Mr. Bean.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
System Restore
Wouldn't it be nice if we could go to our own system restore site, press restore to an earlier point, click go, wait a minute, and VOILA !!!
At least it seems to have worked on Bob's Toshiba !
we'll see when we attempt to print; or write something in WORd and it freezes....
At least it seems to have worked on Bob's Toshiba !
we'll see when we attempt to print; or write something in WORd and it freezes....
My unhappy child
Evangeline is my unhappy child - she wants to be happy - she doesn't know what happy looks like..............
When you think about her - would you pray for her........she is in a pit.
I have been reading Beth Moore's new book. The title is: Get Out of that Pit - this book lept off of the table at WalMart and plopped itself into my cart. And it wouldn't get out - that is until I paid for it and took it home
That is kind of like what being in a pit is. You don't get out until you are paid for - redeemed - and you can't do it...........and the harder you try - the deeper in you get.
I remember being in Denver at Christmas one year - actually - we were only in Denver at Christmas once - and it wasn't for a year. The deepest desire of Evangeline's heart was not only to "See" snow - but to experience it. SO we took off - packed our two teenagers, Michelle, and her three little ones, into an rented SUV - and after a brief stop at Target - attempting to purchase snow equipment - like a Saucer thing - we were off to the mountains. And we hit SNOW - snow coming out of the sky - and it was getting down right scary - so we pulled over next to a very tall hill - and decided we would have our experience there.
The snow was fresh, and not packed down, and there was a lot of it. Evangeline lept out of the car and into the snow, and with two steps into the climb, she was up to her waste in snow........and she couldn't pull herself out Someone had to pull her out, the harder she tried, the more effort she put forth, the stucker she got.
That is where she is now, STUCK, and the person she is trying to pull out of his own pit - is stuck too, and so the picture just baffles my mind. What is scarier - is that I am in my own pit - but I think that I should be able to at least talk her out of her pit, tell her where to put her feet on the slime icky wall - and how hard she should be working, which only generates more slime.............and ickiness, and she is more stuck than ever. But believe you me, I am cheering her on..........she gets an atta girl - pull a little harder - try putting your foot a little farther to the left - no I mean right - the right foot more to the right and turn your toe just so, and out your left hand exactly parallel to your right ear - there you go - perfect position - that should
d
o
i
t .
.....
............................
Guess I was wrong.
How do I let her stay in her pit - until she looks up to the only pit lifter outer that we have - and at the same time - focus on my own gaze....
after all - I have superior peripheral vision...................I can see her and me - and GOD - can't I?
Do I call her and tell her that I love her?
Do I rant and rave and plead with her to return to her safe, more tastefully decorated pit in GA - rather than in the tight, hot, unsafe pit in FL? Which pit would I rather her be in?
Now there is something for me to think about - as if I don't have enough stuff clogging up my brain.
When you think about her - would you pray for her........she is in a pit.
I have been reading Beth Moore's new book. The title is: Get Out of that Pit - this book lept off of the table at WalMart and plopped itself into my cart. And it wouldn't get out - that is until I paid for it and took it home
That is kind of like what being in a pit is. You don't get out until you are paid for - redeemed - and you can't do it...........and the harder you try - the deeper in you get.
I remember being in Denver at Christmas one year - actually - we were only in Denver at Christmas once - and it wasn't for a year. The deepest desire of Evangeline's heart was not only to "See" snow - but to experience it. SO we took off - packed our two teenagers, Michelle, and her three little ones, into an rented SUV - and after a brief stop at Target - attempting to purchase snow equipment - like a Saucer thing - we were off to the mountains. And we hit SNOW - snow coming out of the sky - and it was getting down right scary - so we pulled over next to a very tall hill - and decided we would have our experience there.
The snow was fresh, and not packed down, and there was a lot of it. Evangeline lept out of the car and into the snow, and with two steps into the climb, she was up to her waste in snow........and she couldn't pull herself out Someone had to pull her out, the harder she tried, the more effort she put forth, the stucker she got.
That is where she is now, STUCK, and the person she is trying to pull out of his own pit - is stuck too, and so the picture just baffles my mind. What is scarier - is that I am in my own pit - but I think that I should be able to at least talk her out of her pit, tell her where to put her feet on the slime icky wall - and how hard she should be working, which only generates more slime.............and ickiness, and she is more stuck than ever. But believe you me, I am cheering her on..........she gets an atta girl - pull a little harder - try putting your foot a little farther to the left - no I mean right - the right foot more to the right and turn your toe just so, and out your left hand exactly parallel to your right ear - there you go - perfect position - that should
d
o
i
t .
.....
............................
Guess I was wrong.
How do I let her stay in her pit - until she looks up to the only pit lifter outer that we have - and at the same time - focus on my own gaze....
after all - I have superior peripheral vision...................I can see her and me - and GOD - can't I?
Do I call her and tell her that I love her?
Do I rant and rave and plead with her to return to her safe, more tastefully decorated pit in GA - rather than in the tight, hot, unsafe pit in FL? Which pit would I rather her be in?
Now there is something for me to think about - as if I don't have enough stuff clogging up my brain.
my love hate relationship with computers
I hate computers - I am shouting this..........
I hate MY computer........and Bob's.
I spent some money on having my lovely little Dell Computer tuned up. Unfortunately, it is running badly - faster - then it did before the tune-up. I have resisted returning to the fix it shop - because Bob's computer has been behaving badly - and I thought that we should at least have one computer in the house............
He decided that we could uninstall everything and use the reinstall disc that came with this piece of CRAP - and so that is what we have attempted to do - it has not worked, and I want to take the 22 gauge shot gun and the computer out onto the driveway and put it out of my misery.
Un-fortunately - we do not own a gun. I have uninstalled some key components though - and although that has been accomplished - the reinstall does not identify the document viewer that it needs.
We went to look for a new desk top last night - and were astounded at the price of a new desk top - one that I can't even put on my bed and play spider solitaire.
I am writing this on Bob's broken computer though - and so I love it.
I love my laptop - it is small, easy to carry, light weight - and I know it - correction - knew it. After the tune-up - the cursor jumps around in the document so that I am typing away - and discover that I have created yet to be written, or spoken for that matter, language. It is liked the machine is possessed. It is now frozen in the Windows Icon screen and REFUSES to respond to any button, CD; DVD; or smack that I inflict upon it.
Resolution - I will return to the fix it shop - burst into tears, beg for his mercy, and then resolutely insist that he restore it to it's previously poorly operating status, at least it worked. I hate my computer.
I hate MY computer........and Bob's.
I spent some money on having my lovely little Dell Computer tuned up. Unfortunately, it is running badly - faster - then it did before the tune-up. I have resisted returning to the fix it shop - because Bob's computer has been behaving badly - and I thought that we should at least have one computer in the house............
He decided that we could uninstall everything and use the reinstall disc that came with this piece of CRAP - and so that is what we have attempted to do - it has not worked, and I want to take the 22 gauge shot gun and the computer out onto the driveway and put it out of my misery.
Un-fortunately - we do not own a gun. I have uninstalled some key components though - and although that has been accomplished - the reinstall does not identify the document viewer that it needs.
We went to look for a new desk top last night - and were astounded at the price of a new desk top - one that I can't even put on my bed and play spider solitaire.
I am writing this on Bob's broken computer though - and so I love it.
I love my laptop - it is small, easy to carry, light weight - and I know it - correction - knew it. After the tune-up - the cursor jumps around in the document so that I am typing away - and discover that I have created yet to be written, or spoken for that matter, language. It is liked the machine is possessed. It is now frozen in the Windows Icon screen and REFUSES to respond to any button, CD; DVD; or smack that I inflict upon it.
Resolution - I will return to the fix it shop - burst into tears, beg for his mercy, and then resolutely insist that he restore it to it's previously poorly operating status, at least it worked. I hate my computer.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Two Days after the Day After
It is Thursday evening. Bob got home yesterday afternoon, and I went to see the counselor for my first visit last night. It is an interesting thing, being trained as a counselor, being a veteran counselee, and going to start a new counseling relationship. There are expectations of what that experience should be, and then there is the reality of the experience. Well, I am not sure that this is the long term forever counselor that will be with me through my crisis of a life. She was okay - but I would have handled me differently. Perhaps I should enlist a good friend, or even a perfect stranger for that matter, who I can give a scripted manuscript to - and they could play the role, as I would write it...........now there is a way to save $$$ and direct the whole thing exactly the way I think it should go............
Can you tell that I am feeling somewhat less fragile and am a little further away from the emotional edge?
I need to be held to this resolution - I WILL connect - in PERSON with at least one old friend - this month - ooops - not August - but September.........................
Can you tell that I am feeling somewhat less fragile and am a little further away from the emotional edge?
I need to be held to this resolution - I WILL connect - in PERSON with at least one old friend - this month - ooops - not August - but September.........................
Monday, August 27, 2007
The Day after
Tomorrow will be my day after - I know it will be, because I am so distraught today - that forever more I will remember tomorrow as the day after - Liz left for college - Bob with her, but not until they had some car troubles, a huge computer issue, the AC in our house died, and they left hours later than they had planned.
No sooner were they out of the house - never mind out of the city - before Joe called Evangeline to tell her that he had gone for his first day of work - after 50 applications, at least 10 - 15 interviews, and one other job offered and then withdrawn - only to be told that he could not have the job because he couldn't type 50 words a minute. HE has NOTHING - and at this point we are all wondering if God is even around.
Evangeline - with no money - has taken Wesley and gone down there. I came home - and her car was gone, and the crib mattress is out of the crib - and so I know they are gone. And I am so scared - scared that God has really left us - scared that life will never be normal again - scared that I will drink myself to death - and that there will be no day after..............
No sooner were they out of the house - never mind out of the city - before Joe called Evangeline to tell her that he had gone for his first day of work - after 50 applications, at least 10 - 15 interviews, and one other job offered and then withdrawn - only to be told that he could not have the job because he couldn't type 50 words a minute. HE has NOTHING - and at this point we are all wondering if God is even around.
Evangeline - with no money - has taken Wesley and gone down there. I came home - and her car was gone, and the crib mattress is out of the crib - and so I know they are gone. And I am so scared - scared that God has really left us - scared that life will never be normal again - scared that I will drink myself to death - and that there will be no day after..............
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Welcome to my blog
It is Saturday morning - the morning that I try to listen to NPR - that horrible liberal radio station which has certainly poisoned my mind, and is slowly morphing me into a liberal thinker - the ultimate curse.
I will surely be interrupted multiple times by phone calls, and an adult daughter or two - needing to talk about where the clean laundry was deposited - or some other crisis.
Saturday morning NPR is my laughter source - something dearly lacking in my life right now - and the therapeutic effect of Car Talk and Wait Wait Don't Tell Me - are a sure bet for a chuckle.
I am sitting at the dining room table, surrounded by piles of stuff that should have been put away sometime during the past week, but weren't. And that would be because I just didn't care about neatness this week.
I cared about getting through the next day - which is pretty much how each week goes - I have found myself living - towards the future - like - when I get through Saturday the 3rd - I'll be able to relax and enjoy life. Unfortunately - Saturday the 3rd is in the year 2030.
Lest you get too concerned about my mental state - I have an appointment with a counselor on Wed. - My dear sis suggested that I am clinically depressed - and so I am going to find out. I am sad, I am sad that we moved to the Atlanta area after 20+years in Florida - and wanting to move here for at least half of that time, and now that we are here - I am sad. Not sad that we moved, but sad that we HAD to move. That we had to leave a church that no longer "liked" my dear husband, and totally awesome shepherd. That after we agreed to leave, 3/4 of the congregation left the church and the 1/4 that are still there - well I don't know what they are thinking. Did they get what they wanted? Are they satisfied that smiting the shepherd and scattering the sheep was in the best interest of advancing God's kingdom. Or am I just still so hurt that I can't see the good in the bad?
I am sad that my friends all live too far away - too far to call and say - "meet me at Starbucks" I need a friend right now.
I am sad the Elizabeth leaves on Monday - for her last year of college - in Indiana - and that this was the best summer we have had together. I am sad that she has not made me totally nuts and relieved that she is returning to the midwest waste land........who would CHOOSE to live in Indiana?
I am sad that Evangeline busted her butt to finish a difficult tech program and now cannot find a job. That her life's love is so disadvantaged that he can't provide for her - financially, emotionally or spiritually, that she has to live in our home- and depend on us for her life. I am sad that Wesley doesn't have a daddy that lives with him, and that he is saddled with a crabby Nana that is sad.
I am sad that I drive an hour to get to my office, at a job which I should love, but I don't because I just don't.
I am sad that I hear through the grapevine the goings on of my past friends - who I still love and want to talk to, and maybe even see, who I would travel great lengths to visit, but who don't come to see me, and don't stop on their way through the area as they travel.....were they my friends because they loved me, or because the friendship at the time was convienient - and that maybe I wasn't the friend that would sustain them. that is a lot of pressure to put on someone - and I am sad about that too.
YIKES - this is a SAD post !!
I will surely be interrupted multiple times by phone calls, and an adult daughter or two - needing to talk about where the clean laundry was deposited - or some other crisis.
Saturday morning NPR is my laughter source - something dearly lacking in my life right now - and the therapeutic effect of Car Talk and Wait Wait Don't Tell Me - are a sure bet for a chuckle.
I am sitting at the dining room table, surrounded by piles of stuff that should have been put away sometime during the past week, but weren't. And that would be because I just didn't care about neatness this week.
I cared about getting through the next day - which is pretty much how each week goes - I have found myself living - towards the future - like - when I get through Saturday the 3rd - I'll be able to relax and enjoy life. Unfortunately - Saturday the 3rd is in the year 2030.
Lest you get too concerned about my mental state - I have an appointment with a counselor on Wed. - My dear sis suggested that I am clinically depressed - and so I am going to find out. I am sad, I am sad that we moved to the Atlanta area after 20+years in Florida - and wanting to move here for at least half of that time, and now that we are here - I am sad. Not sad that we moved, but sad that we HAD to move. That we had to leave a church that no longer "liked" my dear husband, and totally awesome shepherd. That after we agreed to leave, 3/4 of the congregation left the church and the 1/4 that are still there - well I don't know what they are thinking. Did they get what they wanted? Are they satisfied that smiting the shepherd and scattering the sheep was in the best interest of advancing God's kingdom. Or am I just still so hurt that I can't see the good in the bad?
I am sad that my friends all live too far away - too far to call and say - "meet me at Starbucks" I need a friend right now.
I am sad the Elizabeth leaves on Monday - for her last year of college - in Indiana - and that this was the best summer we have had together. I am sad that she has not made me totally nuts and relieved that she is returning to the midwest waste land........who would CHOOSE to live in Indiana?
I am sad that Evangeline busted her butt to finish a difficult tech program and now cannot find a job. That her life's love is so disadvantaged that he can't provide for her - financially, emotionally or spiritually, that she has to live in our home- and depend on us for her life. I am sad that Wesley doesn't have a daddy that lives with him, and that he is saddled with a crabby Nana that is sad.
I am sad that I drive an hour to get to my office, at a job which I should love, but I don't because I just don't.
I am sad that I hear through the grapevine the goings on of my past friends - who I still love and want to talk to, and maybe even see, who I would travel great lengths to visit, but who don't come to see me, and don't stop on their way through the area as they travel.....were they my friends because they loved me, or because the friendship at the time was convienient - and that maybe I wasn't the friend that would sustain them. that is a lot of pressure to put on someone - and I am sad about that too.
YIKES - this is a SAD post !!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)