Thanks...and Giving

                                                                                                                                
'Tis the Season indeed...to be thoughtful and joyful and thankful and giving.

I am overwhelmed with emotion as I ponder those words today.  Although I cannot put a finger on it exactly, I think it all boils down to the biggest word of all - LOVE.  I am surrounded by it.  From the surface and superficial to the real and amazing; from the commercial to the priceless and from the getting...to the giving.

I have a problem with love.  There is no other feeling that can cause the effect of every other emotion without a word being said or action been taken - except the feeling of being without it.  Love is unpredictable and uncontrollable.  It requires...well...giving.  And you can't give without getting.  In order to get, you have to be open to receiving.  Damn  how that works.

When it comes down to it, the only love that is real is that of family.  There are very very few people who are not relatives that transcend from friend to family.  So very few.  Too little few.

I love my family.  I am thankful for them.  I think I would be better at giving if I had my own family.  I have so much to give.  It just doesn't pour out like it should.  If I gave more..I would get more.

Thanksgiving seemed to be easier when I was young.  You show up, you eat, you go home.  Then when I got older - a newlywed with a new home - I couldn't wait to host the family dinner and did so for several years in a row.  If you know nothing about me, you must know now that I absolutely thrive on hosting and entertaining.  Ironic, I know, for such an awkward introvert.

We lost the home and I seemed to start to lose myself accordingly as others in the family stepped up and took their own turn in hosting from their fabulous new kitchens and with their own wedding registry cookware gifts.  I began to feel more isolated as they started their own families that grew larger, as did the homes to which we visited.  I began to look forward to spending time with my husband's family more and more because of the tradition and the sibling interaction I was able to be a part, if only by association, as a sharp contrast to my own upbringing.  When Todd's mother passed away, his sister stepped up and has done a fabulous job as the matriarch; a title and position I very much envy.  Over the years and after my grandfather's passing, my own side of the family just became too extended and Thanksgiving dinner together became a thing of the past. 

This year seems special.  It has been one of heavy heartache and incredible miracles and blessing.  So when a cousin on my mother's side suggested that I host a family get-together for the holidays, I was almost giddy with excitement.  Then I was trembling in fear.  My house is not complete!  It is TINY!  Do I even remember how to cook and clean and decorate and WOW?!?!?

Does it really matter?

What matters is that it is perfect.  My uncle is (thankfully) alive and has been moved to a local LTAC hospital - close enough for my family to share a day of fellowship with us all.  I am (thankfully) alive and well.  My husband is (thankfully) alive and well.  I am overwhelmed again, not by the task ahead of me to entertain, but with the anticipation of my modest and unfinished home coming alive with adult conversation and with the heart warming laughter of children...with LOVE.

I have so much to give.  I hope it will be well received!

 

My Mr. Big (Heart)

I wasn't kidding when I said that my husband has a big heart.

It is as big and strong on the inside as he is on the outside; but last Sunday, it started hurting him while helping an 80 year young lady to her chair at the hospital - a sharp pain that dropped all 6'4" of him down to his knees and took his breath away.  As far as places of employment go, the hospital is a convenient place to be in times of emergency.  Tests were ran and guesses were made and he was sent home later that day.

On Thursday, it happened again - and bought him an overnight stay.  We found out that his heart was in Atrial fibrillation (a-fib), the most common form of cardiac arrhythmia.  In itself, it is not life-threatening as your body will give itself a kick start back into normal heart rate; however, it was cause for concern when 8 hours and 1 dose of medicine later he had still not normalized.  Risk of stroke is 7 times more likely for those suffering from a-fib and during extended periods of irregular heart rate is when it strikes.

I will not even allow myself to think of this.

The doctor says his prognosis is now good.  He will monitor and medicate and learn the physical tell-tale signs of future episodes.  He is to live the way he always has; it's the only way the doctors know what is working.  So he is playing basketball now, like he does every Sunday.  He will stay up late doing our laundry like he does every Sunday night, waking up early to run to Starbucks with me before I go to work (a habit we started on his day off when I still worked from home).  He will workout every day after work.  He will do all the heavy lifting between us in the household and in his soul.

He is my rock.  My Mr. Big.  Bigger than Ever.

Wordless Wednesday - Walk the Talk

Breast Cancer 3Day - in Celebration, Honor and Remembrance

"Reminiscent of Pink" Collection

Photos Taken: September 2006

Photo Editing: Photo Explosion
                                                                                                  
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Gone and Back Again

My husband left me last week.

If you have followed my path this year, you know just how pathetic I have been.  Ironically, it's times like these that make you stronger; that make you look inside yourself - dig deep into the heart of the matter where you find your guts and hopefully your glory.  The process is a pretty self absorbed one.

I have been so selfish in fact, that I hadn't noticed that he was also sad.  A man of little words - I failed to see the actions.  I didn't realize that with every hit I was taking, it was also affecting him.  I didn't see that I had been plowing through without him.  I had invited him along but then didn't really care when he did not follow - and certainly didn't expect him to lead.  I had relied on myself and my faith...but never on him...even though my empty soul was aching to do so.  I missed him.  He missed me.  We were always RIGHT THERE.

Funny how that happens.  When you need the exact same thing from somebody that they need from you.  But neither of you know how to get it. So you go outside of things.  You delve into what's new - what you can control - escape outside of yourself in a struggle to FIND yourself.

We have never been a terribly connected couple, never a real team.  We are both loners and independent - stubborn and generally confident; until it comes to each other.  We have been through horribly rough times in our marriage before.  We drift apart and then drift away and somehow we always find our way back.  We have hurt each other badly.  We have forgiven each other thoroughly.  He is a generally content person with broad shoulders and a big heart with no expectations of the future and no plans towards it.  I am the rollercoaster that bears the smile and the responsibility with very definite ideas of where I wanted to be by now and a lost vision for the future.

He came back.  We talked.  I'm glad.

Going and going and going...and going

I haven't been here for some time.  You may have wondered where I have been.  I, on the other hand, wonder where I am going...

Between finding my dad - then losing him again, losing a vehicle and almost losing a life - and definately losing my mind, losing a job, losing one chance to have a baby, losing a grandma and then losing a sense of connection to my other family through some recent tragedy within it; the thing I have held onto for dear life is a sense of healthy perspective. The reality is that it could always be worse.

I remind myself often of how blessed I am and to stop being so damn whiny about the rest; to have a roof over my head even though it is still only 1/2 done, to have a mother that loves me although we typically only talk about once every 10 days, to have found a job even though I earn 1/2 of what I did, to have my health through unorganized thoughts and memory loss -  not to mention this KILLER knot on my head and to have my whole life ahead of me despite feeling that time for so much that I want for has run out. 

So why am I so stuck?  Why does every morning start off as a struggle just to get out of bed?  Why is every drive home so somber?  Why does every new song I discover feel like it was written out of my heart's sad diary?  Why does every evening seem so empty and every sleepless night feel so lonely?  How selfish must I be to think I have any right to be so indulgent when there are REAL issues and REAL sadness in this world?  Get up and DO SOMETHING about it all!  Get up and DO something for charity!  Get GOING and DO something HAPPY for the WORLD!

But I can't right now.  So I keep going.  One foot in front of the other.  I keep praying - and thanking sincerely for each day I do keep going; and pray for those who have it so much worse than me.  I will keep going even with no real direction - because that is what I am supposed to do, what I am required to do, what I have to do.  I am going out of habit; out of that sweet, sweet familiarity of movement.  I am going through the motions. 

..and one day I will finally wake up out of my fog and find that I have arrived in the place that I am supposed to be.

That Mockingbird Will Sing

I love music.

How a song can so perfectly strike the chords of your heartstrings.  How its words can wrap around a feeling or a memory that you keep way down deep inside and dare not speak.  How you instantly feel a new connection with yourself.  How you are moved to tears BY yourself.

I slipped out alone tonight to quiet a craving for ice-cream and started channel surfing on the car stereo to quiet the thoughts in my head.  I landed on a station in commerical break before distracted by the menu and giving my order.  Just as I paid and started my way back home, a beat caught my attention.  I cranked it up and got ready for the ride.  Before I knew it, my eyes were full and the back of my throat was tight.  Rob Thomas has put thoughts I didn't know I had until I heard them put to his amazing melody.


It may not make sense to most, but to me it is not a song about a broken relationship; but of my amazing one.  "We've tried everything.  Life seems hard enough, but maybe we ain't meant for THIS love."  To me, it is just another sign.  Maybe it is time to end one dream so that we can make room for a new one.  That mockingbird will sing.

Wordless Wednesday - Don't Let the Bedbugs Bite!

I can't wait to have kiddos someday - flowers for the girls and bugs for the boys...all growing together.  No place to better see that then at Powell Gardens awesome BIG BUGS exhibit!

The Ants Go Marching One By One...Hoorah! Hoorah!

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

No Jiminy Crickets Here!

Fire and Water

Goin' to the Chapel

To Bee Or Not to Bee. (Look Closely!)

 
"Powell Gardens" Collection

Photos Taken: July 2010

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