Math Problems

I have shattered at least twice in the last year.
I am still broken.
"Decide how you want to live. Then just do it. Make it happen"
Life is stalled out, but I am beginning to see this might be possible.
Maybe, someday. 

The problem is math.
Math is always a problem for me anyway.
So I want X and V.   Ed wants X and C.
Now with some creative art work we could make C into a V.
Or the other way around....or
We could compromise for G.
Point is, algebra stinks.
We want, and have, our own vision of the next 40 odd years.
But I don't think...other than each other in it, that they look the same.
What kind of math do I need here?

I can't breathe if I stay broken.
I can't fully function without you

The thing is Life, or our Choices, either way
Didn't give us a firm starting ground.
I want, no I need, the chance to see if we can make it
Alone together
We need, someday, somehow, the chance to see if we can do this
Without distractions....other than critters
We didn't get that. 

Maybe if we heal and become strong again.
Figure who we are inside
Strengthen our faith and our walk with our Lord
Stop fighting depression and vicious cycles of bad emotional habits.
Relearn each other as well as ourselves,
Then…
We can also learn to better math or just creatively make things work out right.

Hope

As I sit here among the echoes of an empty house with Maggie Cat, I remember the newness of our home.  The plush green forest of carpet that felt so good on bare feet. That perfect green corduroy couch. So wide and deep, it was proportioned just right for stealing naps together. Ah the mistakes, too. Not putting “front” steps at the back door, comes to mind right off. Young children, a younger dog, new carpet and southern red clay do NOT mix! I remember long grocery lists after pouring over named cookbooks that were scattered everywhere. The sharing of the kitchen and family dinners that followed.  The sheer newness of this place.  The Sorrow just before we moved in. The empty hole I felt in here without her stubby wiggly butt.  And I wasn't the only one, I remember, trips to the store where you tried to buy 2 of things in the meat dept for them. Only it wasn’t a “them” anymore, just our Ginger Baby.  There is so much echoing through here.

Oh heavens, my mind is so much wiser now as I look around this empty shell with its damaged, rotting walls. It started in the kids’ bathroom. Water. Young and naive about what to do about it; about what real damage it could cause.  Other maintenances slipped through our fingers. Some knowledge is only learned firsthand and generally after a mistake or two but other things slipped because of finances.  We know better about such things now. I want a 2^nd chance, someday. I want to learn more. What to do, what not to do, when to do this thing or that thing. This home is damaged and probably far beyond repair; but some tiny part of me wishes I could strip it down.  Rebuild walls, fix guttering, repair bad plumbing, and better more stable this or that.  Why when it is such a piece of crap? Well it’s our piece of crap. It’s our sweat, tears, our echoes in the halls. This nick here is a memory.  There are stories behind dings and dents. This place sheltered us from life’s storms. It saw ugly fights, breathless laughter; our children were largely raised here.  Then again, in some respects, so was I. Critters and friends of all kinds have been loved on here. Doors slammed, windows broke, and all manner of yelling matches.  Peace, kindness and silliness of the highest order also ran riot through here. This is the place where I slowly learned to feel at home for the first time since we moved to TN. 

Memories are in your soul. Pictures can help unlock some that you've tucked away. So this is what I’ll have to hold on to, pictures and memories. I am in a different phase of life, a new chapter of growth. So I’m alright letting go because eventually we will settle back down. We will create a new home with new memories yet to be discovered. A place to apply all these lessons learned. A place to discover there is so much more to learn! A place to dream about, plot, and plan.

Hope

This time is just a bridge. The time in between. This is when Daddy prunes me off and trims me back, so I can be ready to grow beautifully again. This upcoming time of uncertainty is alright. I have to learn that change is a good thing. I may deal with change better than the boys in our home but not by much! I need to embrace this time like sky diving. My chute is well packed. I’ll land safely, no doubt. So the real choice is do I scream and kick all the way down or enjoy the view?  Enjoy the beauty around me and the adrenaline rush of the ride or panic and be swallowed in fear? 

Hope

I know I don’t have the strength to handle any of this.  And that’s the good part, I don’t have to! As I sit in the empty shell, an afternoon thunder shower is passing by.  I am sitting here comforting Maggie Cat because she doesn’t like the strong wind.  She hasn’t got anything to go hide under anymore. I don’t have to hide anymore either. This insane fear of letting go and not being strong enough is gone. I more fully understand that I don’t have to panic about when, or where, or how this will all work out.  I don’t have to have things “fixed”. I simply do not have to be strong enough. He is my strength. I have Faith which is why I can Hope. Hope for our new home, our future & our dreams. And because of that Faith, I can more fully lean in. I have read so many times and places in the Bible where He is my rock. I’ve rested in Daddy but until now I did not really learn how to let Him be my full strength. This is where I am now in the throes of this learning bridge. Daddy loves me enough to teach me this valuable lesson in life so I will be able to grow more beautifully inside. Some time, somewhere we will be where we are meant to be inside our souls and accordingly also in the physical. We will be replanted where we can settle our roots and our things.

Hope

It’s our safety harness to hold on to.  This time on the bridge, it’s okay. It deserves photos taken, memories made, laughter and tears shed, adventures had and yes, maybe even a door slammed or two; because after all pruning will hurt, but we will be much better for it. 

nesters

as a woman, 

i am by nature a nurturer and a nest builder.  

the games are changing.  

i am losing my nest, i am most likely losing my cat and my dog has past on. no this isn't a country song and i wont be talking about a truck next. 

 my point is when the reason for your being or the things that shape your identity are gone,  ....

 how to you define yourself? 

this is where i think i need help. i wonder what makes "home" home?

 how can i not be homeless in my "homeless" state?  surely in my up coming limbo there is a way to "play home" .

  I feel like i am going to lost.  suggestions that might help, please.

 









 

  

unclarity

Disclaimer: I haven’t blogged in a long time because my mood hasn’t been sunshiny enough for public display. i think it’s time I vented how I feel and try not be angry, bitter, or depressive.  There are some positive in everything thing if one chooses to look for it, even when the answers aren’t yet clear. I am sad but that’s ok under the circumstances since I am not letting the sadness swallow me anymore. It’s kinda like fighting the Nothing daily, but knowing in the back of your mind, in the end the good guys always win.

When is it too late?  If you have true Faith then it is never too late, but sometimes I wonder.    Pushed to what looks like the edge…pushed within sight of the edge…push over the edge to find a foothold so I can climb back up... push and dangling from that tree that grows that the edge of my cliff.  I am tired; I am emotionally broken, and fully heartbroken.  Most days I flop between crying and numbness. Most days I just don’t care anymore and I feel like it’s too late.  I have been praying, but not for answers.  I am so beyond that now. I pray for strength and that quiet “I don’t know what to pray anymore Lord, but you know do” prayers. Daddy can always unravel the knots we make or use it for good. I do know several things.  I can’t breathe at the thought of living without my baby cat. I panic, lose my head for a minute, at the thought of books boxed up and unreachable.  If I cook now for ed & his dad, I have to run to our house to get utensils, pans, and ingredients.  They will be boxed away.  There is no room in the frig or kitchen for food that is mine or meg’s now.  Where is that going to go?  Others in are allowed stuff and hobbies, mine will have to be packed away. Where will be my outlet for my soul? Where will be the little things that make home home to me, to us, to our family? Meg will have no place to come home to anymore; Isaac either if he ever comes home again. There are no certainties in life but I feel certain this living situation will permanent for years to come. And if that is the case one must look deep in the future.  Would you want to bring grandchildren or friends to this situation the way it is now? There is so much wasted space in the house but it’s not our house to change.  Bedrooms can’t be changed around (and shouldn’t because it’s not our house) but just imagine a married couple with 2 decades of history and things in a child’s bedroom while bruce has the master.

 The old saying goes, you don’t know what ya got got until it’s gone.  Well I’m not gone but the foot/leg is out the door, so maybe that has been the catalyst in re-appreciating what we have and fixing trouble spots.  Now ed is going to stick up for me and figure out how to make things work…but can it, can it really? Step back a quarter of a century.  An idealistic rash young boy falls in love with silly impulsive young girl.  Promises and pie-in-the-sky dreams are laid down…and of course, as is the tradition…with no maturity or forethought involved. Maturity and forethought come from age, life, experience, and common sense; things that most people in their late teen and early 20’s don’t yet possess. So why can’t promises and dreams be rearranged to fit life as it is now?  For some the world is black & white and changed promises are grey.  They don’t fit.  What will it cost them in the long run? Are they willing to pay it?  I have been paying emotionally, we both have.  I am who I am.  I have changed a lot in some ways from that young silly girl.  In other ways I am still her, deep down.  The same goes for that young rash boy.  Where does that leave us? Sitting at the fork in the road pretending it’s still a wandering path? What is the answer, Heavens I don’t know! The whole situation needs deep revision and honest pruning.  It will hurt badly.  We have always said, ‘we can make it though anything’ and life have proven that so far.  This too will be forged though and we will come out on the other side, but how and what scars have to be endured nobody but Daddy knows.  

In the meantime…count blessings…

We still have love.  We still have Faith, in our Daddy and each other. We have goals for “someday” that won’t be shaken. We haven’t lost family ties in this.  We haven’t really lost our health in this endeavor so far. We haven’t lost our sense of humor (completely).  We are learning how to grow from this into better spouses and people.  We are re-finding our friendship and sense of play. We appreciate alone time and dating on a whole new level.  Memories are sweeter because some days it is what you cling to. And we have learned that no matter how hard, living apart is just an inning not the end score of the game.  Maybe someday this will just be the fodder for those uphill in the snow both ways stories we will tell future generations just to see their eyes roll!