Last Christmas

This Christmas week, has been very merry indeed. Its been filled with family, friends, food, laughter, presents and love. But, its also been bitter sweet.

I've spent nearly 30 Christmas' in this home, and this year is the last one I ever will. My parents are retiring in 2015, and they are moving to another town to be closer to family, which is wonderful and exciting. But these past few days, as we've helped my parents clean out the attic and sort through the stuff, there have been moments where I felt nearly paralyzed with sadness as I was overcome with memories and emotions. 

My parents close on their new house on January 9th, but won't retire until the summer. But, that weekend in January, they plan to begin moving things to their new house each month, to make the final move easier. The next time I step foot in this home, there will not be a bed in my room, or things in my closet. The end is very near. 

Last night, Christmas eve, we went to our final Christmas service at church. The church were I was baptized, where I met Jesus, and went to Sunday school. The church where I made friends, played on the lawn, spent countless hours. During our final song, I stood quietly looking at the alter, taking it all in, just wanting to remember the church, because its been exactly the same since I was a child. 

And last night, I woke up after everyone went to bed, and wondered the quite rooms of this house.  A lot of life happened between these four walls. Good things and bad. Memories and moments that we treasure, and a million others that we have long since forgotten. Dreams came true, hearts were broken, fights and make up's occurred. First kisses, slow dances, parties. They all happened here. It is just a house, just brick and drywall, but somewhere along the way, it became home. A refuge from the storm, a place where love always prevailed. 

We leave tomorrow afternoon to head back to Dallas. So this, my final night, in my home before everything changes, before everything is different, before normal is no more, I will take a moment to thank this house. Thank it for always being warm and inviting. For always keeping me safe from the storm, and for being more than just a house. 

In these last few hours and days of the only "normal" I've ever known, I'm reminded of the quote by Steven Rogers. "Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but its whats in the middle that counts. So when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up. And it will."

Contemplation

By nature, I am not normally very contemplative.

I don't spend a ton of time thinking about the day's gone by or yearning for yesteryear. At times, I could probably even be accused of being some what flippant. It is not hard for me to let things go, or shut things off.

However, on Sunday, I found myself laying in the afternoon sun on our deck thinking about years gone by. Yearning to go back in time, and grab the girl I once was and hug her, and whisper truth in her ear. I was yearning for friendship lost, for experiences never taken, and for mistakes that were made.

All of this was brought on by seeing someone I have not seen in 7 years. Someone whom I've always loved, but walked out of my life 15 years ago. Someone who cut the cord, and didn't make me a priority for a long time. That someone is my brother.

 Because he was my older brother, I idolized him. I wanted to be his best friend, and would do anything for him. He gave me my first sip of beer, let me drive his truck around the neighborhood when I was just 13 and my parents weren't home. He took me to my first high school party. He took me shopping with his money and bought me a pair of boots I wanted that my parents would not get for me because they were too expensive. He was a great older brother.

15 years ago, he was in college at Texas A&M, studying Economics, and seemed to have everything going for him. He was smart, funny, and had a ton of friends. Everything was going according to plan.

Then, one day, he called home and told my mom he was dropping out of school. He came home dropped off all his possessions, and walked out of our lives. He spent the past 15 years living in 7 different countries, working on and off, studying, and becoming fluent in several different languages. He has been a bit of a bohemian for the past decade. During that time, he would write a few letters a year, and call to check in maybe once a month at most.

For those left behind, it was almost like dealing with a death. We mourned, we missed him, we were angry, we accepted, and we grew, and we changed. We had to. It was almost like my brother leaving made my parents and I cling to each other that much more.

2 years ago, my brother came home, a decision that he never fully explained. He stayed at my parents house for a few weeks, and decided that he wanted to finish school and stay in the States. During the past 2 years, we have talked on the phone a handful of times, but have never seen each other until this past weekend.

For the long 4th of July weekend, P and I drove down to central Texas to spend the long weekend with my side of the family. To say I was nervous and didn't know what to expect would be an understatement. When he walked through the door on Friday afternoon, the moment was exciting, surreal, and uncomfortable. I didn't quite know how to act or what to say.

The weekend flew by, and he had a lot of fun. We talked, we ate, we caught up a bit. Will I see him again soon, that I cannot answer.

But, the experience left me thinking so many things. I was flooded with memories that I had long since forgotten. Sunday evening, I stared off into the sunset and allowed my mind to wander. I thought about the good and bad.

You never get a say in the hand you are dealt, you just learn to deal and adapt. You learn how to operate in the situation in which you are placed. You learn how to live and thrive even when you are hurting. You learn from the past, and hope for a better future. You learn that nothing is certain, and that sometimes plans fall through, and people let you down. You learn that "normal" is a fluid concept.

Checking on Pop

Last weekend I went to Maine on a ski trip with friends and I had an amazing time. It was an anniversary, birthday,Christmas, Valentines,St. Patty's Day, Presidents Day, Memorial Day, Easter, and Thanksgiving present that P and I gave each other this year.  It was a short trip, but it was amazing none the less.

Look at this view, its amazing. How could it get any better?

While we were on the trip, my dad had his heart attack.  My parents did not tell me while we were on the trip. We flew back into town on Monday, and my mom text me around 8:00 PM asking if I had time to chat. I called her and we talked about the trip, and then she dropped the bomb. By 8:15 I had the Ipad on my lap looking for flights home.

I flew down to my parents neck of the woods on Friday around 5:00. I gave my dad a big hug and he and my mom assured me that he was ok, and was going to make a full recovery.

On the way from the airport I looked out my car window and saw this sunset. I sat there quietly for a moment and was so utterly grateful that my dad was going to be around awhile longer. I have looked at this picture quite a bit lately simply because we live in the city, and you  don't see views like this from our place, although, I can't honestly remember the last time I walked outside to try and see the sunset.

It saddens me that it took a medical emergency for me to stop and take note of something so extradorinary as a sunset. Its so beautiful and big, that it makes me feel small, but it a good way. It reminds me that somewhere, someone else is looking at that exact same sun setting, and they are going through something worse than I am.

 

I made a promise to myself that I would get up early on Saturday and Sunday and chase the sun rise. I would be outside, and bask in the beauty around me. Both days I woke up, put on my running shoes and hit the pavement. I ran to feel good. I did not have my garmin, I have no idea my pace, my distance, or the calories I burned. I ran, I walked, I turned my music on and off. I simply enjoyed a quiet morning, a slow morning, a morning for me.

 

In the end it was a good trip. My dad has to make some changes in his diet, and I was full of suggestions, and to say my dad was not pleased with what I suggested would be an understatement.

To him, anything beyond red meat and potatoes is exotic, his word, not mine. My way of eating must truly baffle him.

 

I was telling him about the wonder of kale chips, oatmeal, and tofu.  I think in that moment he wished the heart attack had just ended it.

 

He survived my suggestions, and even had oats for breakfast this morning.

 

Of all the things I saw this weekend, I think the most beautiful was my family. My mom, dad, grandma, and uncle. The only thing missing was P. Even when my mom and dad were bickering about food choices, it was good. In that moment I was reminded of a quote by Elizabeth Elliot

"Snoring is the sweetest sound you will ever hear, just ask any widow."

 

This week I vow not to let "busy" stop me from seeing the beauty all around me. I will open my heart, open my eyes, and allow myself to be vulnerable, to be full, to be empty, to just be.

 

What is the most beautiful thing you have seen, heard, or witnessed recently?

Saying the things that need to be said

Have you told everyone in your life all of the things that need to be said? Have you told them you love them, you miss them, or how wonderful they are to you?

I just hung up the phone with my friend L. It has been a really rough couple of months for her. In November, she lost her job. At the time, we were really worried, and she was really angry, which she had every right to be.

About 3 weeks after she lost her job, her mom went into the hospital. She had a heart attack, and they thought that her mother was going to pass away. She has been in and out of the hospital since then. They have declared that she is in-operable, and they gave her 18 months at the most. The dr. told her to enjoy the time she has left. L has been driving back and forth to Oklahoma where her mother is almost weekly to be with her family.

The holidays came and went, and L was really ready to start working again. She has applied to jobs and nothing has come up yet.

This past week, her sister ended up in the hospital with the flu, phenomena, and the dr. told them yesterday that she needed to be moved to the ICU because she might pass away. Again, L jumped in her car and is on her way to Oklahoma right now to help take care of her family.

L does not believe in anything that I believe in, but as we were talking today, I asked her if she thought that losing her job when she did was a blessing? She has been the strong one in her family, she has been the rock, the constant. She has been there for every doctors appointment, for every family meeting, and for every single important moment.

Through our conversation, I asked her if she has said everything she needs to say to everyone in her life. Has she told them she loves them, has she shared what is important?

After I asked her that, I asked myself, have I said everything that I need to say to everyone I love? Do the people in my life know how I feel about them?

I hope so.

What is something you need to say to someone in your life?

Home Again

We have a home. Ahhh...peace...... I never realized how much not having a home would affect me. That place to look forward to at the end of the day. Surrounded by things that make you smile, make you laugh, and bring you comfort. A place to call your own. Your environment. It is important. So here we are at home, all but a temporary one at that. We are living in our small one bedroom apartment. It is odd really, going from a home in the country to an apartment in the city. We did a complete 180 from where we were before. A small home, 30 acres, a garden, a slow meandering street with the occasional car going by. To now, a small one bedroom apartment, no yard, just a small porch, right at the intersection of the busiest highway in Texas.
Talk about different. But, it is ok. Because I know, or at least I hope, that we wont be here forever. This is just a temporary pause, a ditch, a resting place. A time and a place to stop, regroup, figure out life, make some decisions, find our direction, our path, and then forge ahead.
That is how I see our life here.
It is funny really, because I gripped, and excuse my french, bitched about our old house. I was pissed off, again please pardon the language, every time I had to get out of my car to open and close the gate. I was frustrated about the single pane windows. I was irritated by the fact that it took me a good 20 minutes just to get to the nearest store. I was annoyed that I used so much extra gas just getting home from work everyday. But, somewhere along the way, I fell in love with that life. I fell in love with that charming, quirky, messy, old house. I fell in love with the sound of the screen door banging shut. I fell in love with the sound of the kaddy bugs chirping so loud every night that it was almost deafening. I fell in love with that old worn down road in front of my house. I didn't realize it, until the day we moved out. I had a major sob fest, and I set on my front porch, legs on P's lap, and took one final picture of us at that house.
When we walked away, I realized something else, it is not the structure that makes a house a home, it is the people, and the life they create for themselves that makes it a home.
Here we are, in the big city, in the exact spot I dreamed about for years. The life I dreamed about, the urban metropolis, full of glitz and glamour, and to be frank, I am not sure I want it any more. But, again were here. Here is home. And, I am realizing more and more, that home for me is wherever P is. It is funny to me to think about when we got married, and I loved him so much, and I could never imagine loving him more than I did that day. Now, looking back, I have grown to love him even more than I did that day. Home is where he is, and where he goes, I will follow. House, apartment, trailer, or a extended stay hotel room, where he is, there my heart is.
This is where God has us for now, and I am learning to be content no matter the circumstance,-- well, I am praying that I am, and I am a work in progress, and I hope I am getting there every a little more everyday.

Break Down Here

"I'd sure hate to break down here

theres nothin up ahead or in the rear view mirror,

Out in the middle of nowhere known

I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin'

God help me to keep movin some how."

Julie Roberts, singer

That is an old country song that has been stuck in my head for a while. I have had my break down, several of them in fact in the last few weeks. Currently, we are living a nomadic existence waiting for a home. See, we found a place, a new apartment complex closer to my work, so good bye hour+ commute every day, hello 25-30 minutes. I am excited about that. It is just getting into the apartment that is proving to be difficult. We cannot move in until September 8th. So for the past few weeks we have been living out of bags and suitcases at friends houses, and it has been hard for me. One, not having a home, two, it has been hard being on the receiving end of generosity from others, and three, there is so much uncertainty in our lives right now.

P does not have a job right now, and we are living off my salary alone. I got a raise, and so we are covering all of our bills and rent, with a bit left over. At times, the move, the job situation, being separated from P for 2 weeks, it was all just so much. Last week during teacher in service, I just sat in my classroom and sobbed. I mean I cried these big ol' alligator tears. Then the 2nd day P got back, we were sitting there just talking, and again, I just started sobbing. We sat outside in some plastic chairs by the river and he let me cry. He got me a beer, and we just sat and I cried and he listened. He held me, and just listened. He was so kind, patient, and tender, and I think I fell a little more in love with him that afternoon. Being separated from him for 2 weeks was hard on me. I didn't realize how much comfort he brings me. I didn't realize that I needed him as much as I do. I didn't realize that I love him and his presence so much. Just knowing he is in the next room, just sitting next to him on the couch, his presence means so much to me. I didn't realize how much I loved him.