Random Wonderings #163

Sue, a coworker, was reading the paper on her lunchbreak the other day.  She read that a man was planning a reception for himself, you know - the kind we tend to have for loved ones after they die.  He said he wanted to be around for the party.  He's inviting all his friends and family, including his mom who is in her 80's.  Apparently this guy is still in his 50's or 60's.  My co-workers thought this was strange.  I thought it was a bit egotistical.  But who wouldn't want to hear from all your loved ones how great you are? 

That got me to thinking.  This would make a great idea for a book!  Except in my book the guy would pretend that he is dead and he would eavesdrop on all that was said during the viewing and funeral.  He'd have flashback moments where the he would remember the memories his loved ones would recount, except his perspective would be a bit twisted from theirs.  Or their's would be a bit twisted from his.  I'd make this guy a bit of a jackass, a rich one.  That way the gossip would be all the more juicier!  But it wouldn't be obvious if he's in the wrong or in the right.  I'd let that up for the reader to decide.  But it's sure not going to be black and white.  A guy is bad because he was born bad.  Just like everyone else.  I think it's crazy how we tend to judge one person's decisions, looking down our noses at him, all-the-while ignoring our own sin, just as bad but not as obvious to us because we have hidden them so deep in our deceitful reasoning.   

The Christmas Newsletter I Never Sent

This past year - not one to illicit good feelings and humor. Not one to write a Christmas newsletter about. Why bring the reader acute depression when what he wants is to be entertained with the humor, fun, and growth that a year is supposed to bring. Such is the stuff a Christmas newsletter is made of.


So I didn’t write a newsletter this year. Although I was tempted to. I expect to have an extra long one to send out next Christmas. Reader beware. I’m not afraid to depress readers - I just want to be able to write from a more completed perspective. But maybe that’s not real. It’s certainly not raw. And that’s my favorite genre of writing - Real and Raw.


So, permit me to write it down here. Read on if you want. Stop and come back another day if you prefer.


This was the year the time of waiting abruptly ended. It ended with the death of my friend. But it continued with the dying trade of my husband’s and his persument of a new career. This was a year of transitions. Of fluxuating transitions from one emotion to another. From anger to numbness. From fear to recklessness. And stress. So much stress.


And where was God in it all? He was over there - sitting on the opposite side of the couch. Sometimes right beside me. Quietly. Sometimes he’d reach for my hand. But mostly he’d just sit. One time he showed me his weeping. Many times he reminded me of his promises. And he allowed me to question him, wrestle him, ignore him, and walk away from him. And he was there when I walked back.


The evening in the ER still brings me to tears. I fell to my knees more than once that night. I begged God. How could she have died so easily? I told my sister-in-law who drove me to the hospital that evening that I couldn’t imagine her injuries to be serious. It just was unimaginable. But God taught me how frail even the healthiest are. That it only takes an instant to change a person’s life. That it’s the ones that are left behind that hurt the most. He has been teaching me the deepness of grief. My heart aches like never before for the ones who have lost loved ones. How I wish I could have offered more compassion during their time of sorrow and anguish.  I am sorry friends, sistas. 


This has been a trying year. Along with the loss of Michelle and watching my brother grieve her and talking to her parents and sister, I’ve watched my husband’s hair turn more silver as his stress hit new heights. We are still waiting to see what God has in store for him. Is it in the tool & die trade still? Or the career he’s testing for? Or maybe it’s something totally different. Who knows how much longer we have to wait for the answer. We’re hoping we’ll know more in the Spring. And I’m hoping that by next Christmas my newsletter will be filled with many interesting happenings. But until that time, we wait. As we have waited for the past year and more.


All this waiting, stress, and grief have increased the need for Hubby and I to be patient and gracious with each other. Sometimes he is better at this, sometimes I am better than he. It has been a challenging year for unselfishness. I have come to realize how precious family is and how important it is to love fiercely in each moment. But it is hard to overcome my self-centeredness in times of stress and uncertainty. I have not loved like I intensly wish I could.


We’ve also had to adjust to my new schedule of working four days a week. After many months of sending out resumes, I finally found a job with a podiatry office. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for 9 years, so working outside the home has been a big change for all of us. We’ve had to figure out how to have home-made suppers and Hubby now does the laundry as well as help the kids with homework each night. I’ve had to let go of some home front control. I am learning a new trade. Who knew feet could be so interesting? I enjoy working with the different assortment of patients our office presents. The people I work with are fun and patient with me as I learn and make mistakes. But along with stepping out into the World, I’m coming to realize just how uncomfortable I am in it, how I really don’t fit in. This World is not our home.


Some things continue to be normal. Thank goodness for that! We still enjoy camping as a family. EE still loves flag football and shooting birds with his bb gun. Little Miss is still a mystery. A bright-eyed teaser with a temper. Hubby has shot another buck on our property this year in archery season. I am still writing. Although I haven’t read a book in a month or so - an anomaly.


Life goes on. Strange and unfair as it seems at times. Part of me is waiting for the next tragedy to happen, for my bad dreams to come true. But mostly I am living day to day. I’m glad this year is at it’s end, but I look towards the new with some trepidation. Am I holding my breath? Or am I holding God’s hand? Can I possibly do both?


Looking onward toward 2010 ~
Emily

Upstairs And Writing!

The kitchen smells wonderful. A roast is in the oven. And I am upstairs writing on my computer. What - upstairs? Writing upstairs on your computer? Did you move your computer from the dungeon? Why no, no I did not. I am the proud owner of an entry level laptop. Now I can come up from down below to blog all my thoughts while still being in the company of my family. And as an added bonus – I don’t freeze from cold basement temperatures. So the kids are with hubby watching TV (it took a lot getting Little Miss off her new DS) and I am sitting at the kitchen table enjoying the aroma of a slow roasted roast marinating in red wine and onion seasoning. We have put Christmas away. Gone is the tree (and hopefully my allergies?), gone are my Carolers, gone is the Santa giving the penguin a frozen cube encasing a fish. And soon the Nativity scene will be put away as well. I am ready for this year to end.

A Story Of Two Girls

Two girls -
two thousand years a part
both asleep
with loved ones begging
for a miracle.


One girl -
dying of sickness,
the other one of
instant tragedy.
Both families
wait for healing.
Both wait
for the physician.


One family's hope
was dashed,
then astonishment filled
the room
as the girl got up and walked.
One family's hope
was stubborn,
until the pronoucement
was made
and the girl remained still
and beautifully broken.


Jesus came to both girls,
separated by two thousand years.
He took their hand in his
and told them,
"Little girl, get up."


One girl got up and
walked back into her family's arms,
back to her earthly life.


The other girl got up as well
and kept her hand in his ~
as he led her to the better life.



Mark 5:35-43


vs. 41 - He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha koum!" (which means, "Little girl, I say to you, get up!").


Wishing there was a possiblilty to repeat last year's festivities - to rewind time and experience again one of the last times we had with her.  To squeeze out every last ounce of joy and laughter, to hug a little tighter, and linger a little longer.

Addicted To Coke And Suffering From Road Rage

I hate people.  I hate people who drive.  I hate people who drive when I'm driving.  Crazy people ooze out of the woodwork from all the corners of our county during this festive time of year.  There are too many drivers.  They all drive within a 5-mile radius around my podiatry office.  I have a hard time getting lunch during my 8 hr. lunch break.  (okay, that's another exaggeration friends, it's only a 6 hr. lunch break).  I agree with my foot doctor; we need to let some old people die.  Of course, I agree for different reasons (he wants to make a statement to the government).  Get rid of a few old people and a third of the driving population will be gone.  I think the transplanted Marylanders need to defect back to their own state - there's another third.  With these simple implementations, my mind will be more at peace and I could actually make it home from work in 25 minutes. 

And yes, I'm addicted to Coke now.  It helps me get through the day.  My body actually craves it like it craves coffee in the mornings.  So now I'm getting a double dose of caffeine each day.  And added calories.  I've not been eating the healthiest lately.  Kind old people who drive to our podiatry office to get their routine footcare make treats for us.  And I've been eating Mcdonald hamburgers.  Or soft pretzles from the K-Mart.  I think I've put on a pound or two.  Perhaps I should join the gym with Hubby and Sista D?  You're right, as usual.  And thanks for reminding me.  Exercise is lethal for a girl like me.  I get heart palpitations and my lungs hurt.  I can't stand watching The Biggest Loser on TV until the last few episodes - it tires me out watching those people excert themselves to the point of blood, sweat, and tears.  Who wants to watch people exercise on TV?  That's the time I sit on my sofa while chowing down on some really fattening empty calorie food.  Why ruin that bliss?

I think that in my particular case, instead of exercise, I should start smoking. 

DISCLAIMER:  To all the old people I know - I don't mean you (yes I do.  No I don't).  And to all the Marylanders I know - I don't mean you. 

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Comfort Food On A Snowy Evening

It's still snowing - and it hasn't stopped since it began around midnight last night.  This picture was taken by my neighbor friend Trina (thanks Trina!) from the vantage point of her own home.  It looks out over our long driveway, our house is up in the woods.  Her stepson, Scottie, came over to play with the kiddos today.  Unfortunately, it was way too deep to go sledding.  But the kids had fun making a snow fort for snow battle.  I stayed inside, where it was nice and warm!  I didn't do much today.  I played the electric battleship  game with Hubby - which I won hands down.  And I made a wonderful comfort food dinner - stuffed shells, the recipe came from my good friend Angie (thanks Angie - it's my favorite stuffed shell recipe!), and I played Solitare on the computer, of which I'm lousy at so my ego took a hard hit.  But then we made homemade donuts, another favorite comfort food, to boost my spirits. 

All you have to do is buy canned biscuit dough in your grocer's refridgerator section, pop out the middles - I used a little lid from a sprinkles container -

- heat the oil (this takes the longest out of all the steps), then plop the donuts in - flip - wait till they are golden -

- put them on a doubled paper towel to drain excess oil, then coat them with desired toppings -

- and whala!  You have yourself a yummy comfort treat!  They taste more like funnel cake than donuts.  Thanks mom for this fun tradition!  She used to make these donuts for my brothers and I when we were kids, and she continues the tradition with my own kiddos!