Feet propped up on the couch. Laptop on the appropriated 'lap.' Fingers tapping in frenetic motion. Eyes affixed to white screen. A scratch of the head, a rub of the chin, a partial gaze up and then back. This not only describes my current position, but turning my head slightly to my left, I observe the very same posture and action by my husband. The BBC World News is the focused sound; but eyes remain fixed on occupation.
The iPad rests conveniently to my right and ever so often, it will 'bing,' informing me that it is my turn in Words With Friends. The book I am reading (still), sits to my left. I have two books that I am reading on my iPad, one book downloaded onto my computer and a real live paper book sitting next to me.
I was stating earlier today that I have a heightened sense of technology in our small speck of existence. I have toiled with where my placement is in all this.
My children have balanced lives. Sports, literature, family outings, family dinners, parent involvement, blah, blah, blah. But a pinnacle part in all this is the addition and perhaps dependency on communications via text, entertainment via computerized games, and social interaction throughout this medium. It is just a part of our lives and a fiber of this family. Frequently, after saying goodbye to the boys in the morning, I will text the boys an 'i love you' while they wait for the bus. Or when they are home alone, i can quickly text them an on location update and timeline of my presence at home.
The 30 minute rule will always stand, but i think, now more than months prior, my allowances come with less resistance. There is an attractiveness in discussing technology with your children....mature discussion on hardware, software, 'cool apps,' I even enjoy texting them....i get words that would not normally be easy to say face to face. My 14 year old will sign his texts sometimes with an 'I love you."
The 2 year old - as i have stated before, has used the iPad extensively. He has more apps and more folders than I do. It can not take the place of face to face snuggle time, nor can it be a substitute for learning that comes directly from his parents and siblings --- but Train Apps, PBS Apps, ABC Apps certainly do not hurt, but add to the perspective.
Okay - so, this is my two cents worth.
Thanks for listening.
OH - I almost forgot.....from time to time, we actually play family games. Most often, it is a Wii game, but we do happen to have a collection of the tried and true board game. Today, as i was trying to add some 'balance' to the day, the kids and I played Pictureka. One of Lucy's newest favorites. We played a couple of rounds and then the oldest one squeaked out, "Okay, who's up for Dance Party 3? "
Thanks for listening.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
The Times are a Changing
The parent in me continuously scrutinizes each second and minute my kids are relating to technology. The standard is 30 minutes of computer/gaming time and that is after your chore is completed. They may also buy an additional 30 minutes with each additional chore. I am the first one to yell: "You are off the computer!" when 30 minutes is up. I am also the first one to say, "No," when there is a repeated request to continue.
We have mp3 players in the ears, we have cell phones texting all day long, we have computers on, music playing, movies on demand and games on the iPad that are in constant swing.
Presently, I have sent all outside and what do I do? I open up my laptop. I check in on Facebook. I log into my 3 separate email accounts, I surf other blogs and I live out the, "Lead by example" model.
I actually have to cut this very short and i will get back to it. The three kids have all trampled back inside. They have entered into the room, pulled out their ear buds and asked if they could go back onto the computer. The oldest one says, 'I am just looking at the online auction for my snowboard." (another story for another time).
I need to go as I have suggested playing a board game. A WHAT? What in the world is a board game, you ask? Tune in later and I will tell you all about it.
Thanks for listening.
We have mp3 players in the ears, we have cell phones texting all day long, we have computers on, music playing, movies on demand and games on the iPad that are in constant swing.
Presently, I have sent all outside and what do I do? I open up my laptop. I check in on Facebook. I log into my 3 separate email accounts, I surf other blogs and I live out the, "Lead by example" model.
I actually have to cut this very short and i will get back to it. The three kids have all trampled back inside. They have entered into the room, pulled out their ear buds and asked if they could go back onto the computer. The oldest one says, 'I am just looking at the online auction for my snowboard." (another story for another time).
I need to go as I have suggested playing a board game. A WHAT? What in the world is a board game, you ask? Tune in later and I will tell you all about it.
Thanks for listening.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Technology Excess
I am not an excessive person by any means. I love that I own one pair of jeans, that I have less than 20 hangers in my closet. I own a few pair of shoes and as much as I would very much like to go out and buy a new funky style of foot decor, I do not, because I hate being excessive. My husband is rather different. While I have a small hanging box organizer for my socks, t-shirts, pants, etc., he reigns over our entire dresser with shirts popping out of the drawers. His closet is full of clothes (granted he works and I am at home...a bit of a difference) and when he runs to the store to 'pick something up' for me, he comes home with 4 bags of 'stuff.'
My husband is also a technology nerd. He is a talented technology nerd. His livelihood depends on the growth and magnitude of technology. With this passion comes his responsibility to equip his wife with the latest and greatest technological asset.... regardless if I need it or not. Sometimes it is really great, but others, I look at him quizzically, as if to ask, "Really?"
Gifts throughout the years -- not in any order
1. PenCam: One of the first usb recordable devices - it took audio and video and was able to play back on computer (way cool) and it was as small as a pen. I used it to dictate notes
2. Palm Smart Phone -- when they were like 600.00. It was one of the first of it's kind. All i wanted was something that would help me keep a running calendar. This was his solution. The young male sale clerk even said to me, "Lady, you don't deserve this phone." I think he was trying to say that if i wanted a calendar, the Hallmark store was just down the block.
As with all his gifts, I have to really take time to learn how to use them properly and take advantage of the provided hardware. I suppose this is good, as I have truly received quite the education and can man my own troubleshooting at times.
3. Tablet PC: This computer's monitor flipped over and down and with a stylus, I was able to write notes on it as if it were paper and then convert the notes to text email them to another person. He bought me this when I began my Master's classes. Again, I taught myself everything there was to know about this computer. It was beyond cool.
4. Netbook: Small and easy travel computer. He bought this for me for Mother's Day so that I had it when we went on our vacation to Europe that summer.
5. Speaking of Mother's Day - one of my first gifts (before perry was even born) was a top of the line breast pump. I thought this was comical - and curious as I opened up this inaugural gift.
6. New Toshiba Computer - this was after a few years with the Tablet. I think i probably complained about this or that and he decided it was time for a new computer
7. Camera - really nice one because I was showing an interest in photography and he knew we would be using it in Europe as well. There have been many cameras throughout the years that have been wrapped and given as gifts.
8. IPAD --- because who doesn't need an IPAD. I certainly did not. But now I have one and truth be told, the 2 year old uses it the most. Presently, the 10 year old has it in her bed as she is playing a hidden picture game. I use it rarely - basically for Words With Friends and Pandora
9. A large computer monitor so that I could have two screens - one on my lap top and the other next to the lap top...this worked very well when doing research and writing papers as my work could go from one screen to the next....this was a birthday gift. Very large box. This is now at the Twins Organization -- recycled to another user.
10. Flat Screen monitor -- far sleeker than the big screen one. This was also very cool and slick and I used it many times simultaneously with my lap top monitor. I have since donated it to Joy and her family as we also got her a family computer to work with the kids.
11. My latest acquisition is a MacBook Air. A very lightweight laptop. I opened this up on Christmas morning, bewildered - as for the day before, John had bought me a new computer battery as my PC laptop died quickly after becoming unplugged. He has since told me that one of the kids will use it down in the newly built family office that he is still trying to finish.
I know there are others - but this gives you the general idea. So, if i sit here and count the active computers that I have at my disposal - I count 4. This is wrong!
1. Netbook: Will be used in the office for one of the kids
2. PC Laptop: Again, will be used for the kids (although, they have their very own computer as well)
3. Ipad: continue Words with Friends and try to find other great uses for it --- but it is a great tool to bring for the kids
4. Mac - i am in the process of converting all documents from PC to this new computer. It has very nice keyboard.
Maybe I should drop hints that I really like socks. These are cheaper, take up less space and there is nothing to learn from them. Now I will be a Mac user and there is much to learn on this. ..... again.
Thanks for listening.
My husband is also a technology nerd. He is a talented technology nerd. His livelihood depends on the growth and magnitude of technology. With this passion comes his responsibility to equip his wife with the latest and greatest technological asset.... regardless if I need it or not. Sometimes it is really great, but others, I look at him quizzically, as if to ask, "Really?"
Gifts throughout the years -- not in any order
1. PenCam: One of the first usb recordable devices - it took audio and video and was able to play back on computer (way cool) and it was as small as a pen. I used it to dictate notes
2. Palm Smart Phone -- when they were like 600.00. It was one of the first of it's kind. All i wanted was something that would help me keep a running calendar. This was his solution. The young male sale clerk even said to me, "Lady, you don't deserve this phone." I think he was trying to say that if i wanted a calendar, the Hallmark store was just down the block.
As with all his gifts, I have to really take time to learn how to use them properly and take advantage of the provided hardware. I suppose this is good, as I have truly received quite the education and can man my own troubleshooting at times.
3. Tablet PC: This computer's monitor flipped over and down and with a stylus, I was able to write notes on it as if it were paper and then convert the notes to text email them to another person. He bought me this when I began my Master's classes. Again, I taught myself everything there was to know about this computer. It was beyond cool.
4. Netbook: Small and easy travel computer. He bought this for me for Mother's Day so that I had it when we went on our vacation to Europe that summer.
5. Speaking of Mother's Day - one of my first gifts (before perry was even born) was a top of the line breast pump. I thought this was comical - and curious as I opened up this inaugural gift.
6. New Toshiba Computer - this was after a few years with the Tablet. I think i probably complained about this or that and he decided it was time for a new computer
7. Camera - really nice one because I was showing an interest in photography and he knew we would be using it in Europe as well. There have been many cameras throughout the years that have been wrapped and given as gifts.
8. IPAD --- because who doesn't need an IPAD. I certainly did not. But now I have one and truth be told, the 2 year old uses it the most. Presently, the 10 year old has it in her bed as she is playing a hidden picture game. I use it rarely - basically for Words With Friends and Pandora
9. A large computer monitor so that I could have two screens - one on my lap top and the other next to the lap top...this worked very well when doing research and writing papers as my work could go from one screen to the next....this was a birthday gift. Very large box. This is now at the Twins Organization -- recycled to another user.
10. Flat Screen monitor -- far sleeker than the big screen one. This was also very cool and slick and I used it many times simultaneously with my lap top monitor. I have since donated it to Joy and her family as we also got her a family computer to work with the kids.
11. My latest acquisition is a MacBook Air. A very lightweight laptop. I opened this up on Christmas morning, bewildered - as for the day before, John had bought me a new computer battery as my PC laptop died quickly after becoming unplugged. He has since told me that one of the kids will use it down in the newly built family office that he is still trying to finish.
I know there are others - but this gives you the general idea. So, if i sit here and count the active computers that I have at my disposal - I count 4. This is wrong!
1. Netbook: Will be used in the office for one of the kids
2. PC Laptop: Again, will be used for the kids (although, they have their very own computer as well)
3. Ipad: continue Words with Friends and try to find other great uses for it --- but it is a great tool to bring for the kids
4. Mac - i am in the process of converting all documents from PC to this new computer. It has very nice keyboard.
Maybe I should drop hints that I really like socks. These are cheaper, take up less space and there is nothing to learn from them. Now I will be a Mac user and there is much to learn on this. ..... again.
Thanks for listening.
Friday, December 23, 2011
A Calming to the Magic
For 14 years, I have played Santa Claus. Well, let's be practical, 12 years? Santa has brought many things throughout the years ---
1. A handmade work bench with Perry and Simon's name on either side and matching worker man aprons (john made this)
2. A pillow case that had a picture of each child sound asleep in the pajamas that they just opened up hours before on Christmas Eve
3. The next book in a sequence that was not even in print yet (even had a different jacket on it)
4. A new family kitten that seemingly appeared out of no where
5. A cell phone that mom and dad were vehemently opposed to
6. Hot Chocolate mugs with picture of each child sound asleep in the pajamas that they just opened up hours before on Christmas Eve.
For the past many years, my oldest has tried to catch Santa.
1. Hiding a note under his covers that said, "If you are real, will you leave a present by my bed for me?" (I am so happy that I found this note that evening. Santa was able to dig up something 'special' during those wee hours of the night
2. Placed a spy system maze of sorts that would trip off an alarm when crossing the red light beam
3. Set up a video camera to video tape the entire evening --- too bad that Cat from a few christmas' ago sat in front of the lens during the arrival of santa....we were able to hear him...just not see him.
Anyway, this year, there really is no "How did he do THAT?" scenario. Lucy is still teetering on whether she believes or not - so Santa is getting her a costumed made desk chair that her aunt in Duluth is making for her. Perry will get his expensive dicso light and simon will get a cool mp3 player that is a little more affordable than an ipod. They will all be happy....but there has been no mention of going to see santa at the mall, writing him a letter, an email, etc. There hasn't even been talk about what kind of cookies we will be leaving for him this year. It feels so much different. Next year, I will ramp things up again for Sidney's 3rd Christmas. No big surprises this year.
it simply feels more calm and quiet -- a mature kind of Christmas....mixed in with the excitement. Simon (12) came home from school the other day and began to jump up and down for 5 minutes after seeing the presents under the tree.
One tradition i will continue to keep is that I wrap each gift in a different paper and leave out the name -- there are many 'anonymous' gifts under our tree. keeps them in suspense.
Always, thank you for listening
Katie
1. A handmade work bench with Perry and Simon's name on either side and matching worker man aprons (john made this)
2. A pillow case that had a picture of each child sound asleep in the pajamas that they just opened up hours before on Christmas Eve
3. The next book in a sequence that was not even in print yet (even had a different jacket on it)
4. A new family kitten that seemingly appeared out of no where
5. A cell phone that mom and dad were vehemently opposed to
6. Hot Chocolate mugs with picture of each child sound asleep in the pajamas that they just opened up hours before on Christmas Eve.
For the past many years, my oldest has tried to catch Santa.
1. Hiding a note under his covers that said, "If you are real, will you leave a present by my bed for me?" (I am so happy that I found this note that evening. Santa was able to dig up something 'special' during those wee hours of the night
2. Placed a spy system maze of sorts that would trip off an alarm when crossing the red light beam
3. Set up a video camera to video tape the entire evening --- too bad that Cat from a few christmas' ago sat in front of the lens during the arrival of santa....we were able to hear him...just not see him.
Anyway, this year, there really is no "How did he do THAT?" scenario. Lucy is still teetering on whether she believes or not - so Santa is getting her a costumed made desk chair that her aunt in Duluth is making for her. Perry will get his expensive dicso light and simon will get a cool mp3 player that is a little more affordable than an ipod. They will all be happy....but there has been no mention of going to see santa at the mall, writing him a letter, an email, etc. There hasn't even been talk about what kind of cookies we will be leaving for him this year. It feels so much different. Next year, I will ramp things up again for Sidney's 3rd Christmas. No big surprises this year.
it simply feels more calm and quiet -- a mature kind of Christmas....mixed in with the excitement. Simon (12) came home from school the other day and began to jump up and down for 5 minutes after seeing the presents under the tree.
One tradition i will continue to keep is that I wrap each gift in a different paper and leave out the name -- there are many 'anonymous' gifts under our tree. keeps them in suspense.
Always, thank you for listening
Katie
Monday, December 19, 2011
Benevolence
December stresses me out because this is the month, as a parent, that I feel I need to ramp up all the good things we are supposed to do. My money to my local charities are padded and even my garbage man leaves me an envelope, enticing me to fill it with Christmas cash.
When December rolls around, I try to plan for "family moments" to share and embrace. I ask questions like, "What play should we go see this year?" "How can we volunteer to help others?" "What needs in church should be filled?" and the end result is stress. I am stressed and I don't need to be.
Why is it that the month of December needs to be a time to remember others?
Why am I asked in the month of December is I want to add an extra dollar here, or add in a $20.00 donation there? Why do I feel the pressure to place my kids under the miscroscope of "positiveness" and "charitability"
This year, I inducted a "Kindness Jar." and I told my kids that they only thing I want fof Christmas form them is a significant act of kindness. The "Kindness Jar" is a glass jar that sits upon our table with color coded pieces of paper and when they do an act of kindness, they are instructed to write it out and place it into the vase. These will then be all read on Christmas day. In theory, it sounded like a solid plan. My children will be encouraged to do 'kind deeds' during the giving month of December...but on January 1, this is all supposed to stop? The 'Kindness Jar' will be emptied and put back into the cupboard, the sales clerks will stop berating me for those few extra dollars, my extra donations to church will come to an end and my children and I will no longer need to be attentive to those in need.
(note: i had three additional paragraphs that closed this little segment off quite nicely....but somehow they disappeared. I will not be fixing this now...hopefully in the near future)
Thanks for listening and if you find this blog and you find yourself to be in the 'giving' frame of mind, please look at David's page and click on the 'donate' button.
http://davidplaisted.bbnow.org/
 |
| Kindness Jar |
Tis the month of December. This cursor blinks as I think about the magnitude of responsibility this month carries with it. It is not a month to take in lightly. It's not February ~ Black History Month. It is not March ~ good 'ol St. Paddy's Day, nor is it July ~ the celebration month of our nation. It is December --- the month of benevolence, kindness, compassion towards others, goodwill, altruism, etc, etc.
December stresses me out because this is the month, as a parent, that I feel I need to ramp up all the good things we are supposed to do. My money to my local charities are padded and even my garbage man leaves me an envelope, enticing me to fill it with Christmas cash.
When December rolls around, I try to plan for "family moments" to share and embrace. I ask questions like, "What play should we go see this year?" "How can we volunteer to help others?" "What needs in church should be filled?" and the end result is stress. I am stressed and I don't need to be.
Why is it that the month of December needs to be a time to remember others?
Why am I asked in the month of December is I want to add an extra dollar here, or add in a $20.00 donation there? Why do I feel the pressure to place my kids under the miscroscope of "positiveness" and "charitability"
This year, I inducted a "Kindness Jar." and I told my kids that they only thing I want fof Christmas form them is a significant act of kindness. The "Kindness Jar" is a glass jar that sits upon our table with color coded pieces of paper and when they do an act of kindness, they are instructed to write it out and place it into the vase. These will then be all read on Christmas day. In theory, it sounded like a solid plan. My children will be encouraged to do 'kind deeds' during the giving month of December...but on January 1, this is all supposed to stop? The 'Kindness Jar' will be emptied and put back into the cupboard, the sales clerks will stop berating me for those few extra dollars, my extra donations to church will come to an end and my children and I will no longer need to be attentive to those in need.
(note: i had three additional paragraphs that closed this little segment off quite nicely....but somehow they disappeared. I will not be fixing this now...hopefully in the near future)
Thanks for listening and if you find this blog and you find yourself to be in the 'giving' frame of mind, please look at David's page and click on the 'donate' button.
http://davidplaisted.bbnow.org/
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
No Connection
Update: The bathtub is in! It is great! It is wonderful! It is magnificent! It is......hopefully the last. Now it is drywall and paint time.
Two summers ago, my family of 6 ventured to Europe. As i was looking through one of my journals that I was in need of using, I found a quick blurb about a day in Strasbourg. I thought I would fill up some space with this past perspective.
June 8 2010
A bit of historical perspective
Polka music plays in the distance. The murmur of conversation and clopping of feet from inhabitants on the stone road counter the upbeat song.
Sitting on three small steps in a very small section of the large edifice known as the "Cathedral of Strasbourg:" We will soon walk inside and take an audio tour of this enormous visual marker of time continuum. Soon my head will be filled with too much detail to remember.
This morning, after breakfast, we were out upon the streets of Strasbourg - imagining the once familial inhabitants surrounding the public square. I think of those terrifying hours leading up to WWII. I think of the celebrations of life, the dancing, the music, the food and the essence of life that took hold of the city dwellers.
Strasbourg is a medieval town. This is a great place to share with family and children - but i find myself a bit resentful. This is not the escape of 'My" Europe trip. every time I pass something that should be treasured or remembered or every time i have to explain something in Cliff Note version, my tolerance meter fills.
Sitting on these three steps, I glance over to my oldest son, who has been asked to partake in this short writing exercise. His back is up against a wall of this place that leaves me without word. He sips on his Orange Crush like drink and when I ask him, "Why aren't you writing about this place?" He responds with, "My mind is a blank."
So, there ya go. Time is up.
Two summers ago, my family of 6 ventured to Europe. As i was looking through one of my journals that I was in need of using, I found a quick blurb about a day in Strasbourg. I thought I would fill up some space with this past perspective.
June 8 2010
A bit of historical perspective
Polka music plays in the distance. The murmur of conversation and clopping of feet from inhabitants on the stone road counter the upbeat song.
Sitting on three small steps in a very small section of the large edifice known as the "Cathedral of Strasbourg:" We will soon walk inside and take an audio tour of this enormous visual marker of time continuum. Soon my head will be filled with too much detail to remember.
This morning, after breakfast, we were out upon the streets of Strasbourg - imagining the once familial inhabitants surrounding the public square. I think of those terrifying hours leading up to WWII. I think of the celebrations of life, the dancing, the music, the food and the essence of life that took hold of the city dwellers.
Strasbourg is a medieval town. This is a great place to share with family and children - but i find myself a bit resentful. This is not the escape of 'My" Europe trip. every time I pass something that should be treasured or remembered or every time i have to explain something in Cliff Note version, my tolerance meter fills.
Sitting on these three steps, I glance over to my oldest son, who has been asked to partake in this short writing exercise. His back is up against a wall of this place that leaves me without word. He sips on his Orange Crush like drink and when I ask him, "Why aren't you writing about this place?" He responds with, "My mind is a blank."
So, there ya go. Time is up.
Friday, December 9, 2011
On Being 14
Tonight, my 14 year old had a 4 hour "party" at church with all the other 9th graders and high school guides in his Confirmation class. The night was all about games and messes and music and messes and noise and messes and lots of movement and messes. The hours ticked my agonizingly slow as I told this boy or that boy to not hit the ceiling lights with the basketball or to not pummel the other with the nearby inflatable guitar. The room sized jumping thing was an inside wrestling ring. Every now and again, i called a time out to tighten up the large air tube that frequenly came detatched. Doritos, Oreos, cookies, etc. Tick, tick, tick.
Youth Director came down, ordered the mob upstairs and had them line up outside the sanctuary. From there, the doors were open and all quietly proceeded into the dark, candle lit space with acoustic guitarist serenading beautiful melodies; filling the surround.
For an hour, I took it all in. This place I spend my Sunday mornings was transformed. My son, all of 14, experienced all of his world in the freedom of one night. Dancing, noise, mess, movement and then closing, completing and capping off the evening with significant matter. The 9th grade group spread out throughout the small church, sang in the songs, reveled in the mood, praised and met their God (where ever He is in their life) and gave themselves that time to be14.
My son is growing up. I watched him stand tall in his awkwardness and relate to the simple stories of his youth director. I watched him in the dim light make his way up to the cross, write something down and lay it at the foot. From the darkened corner, i watched this tall teen swagger back to his seat and continue in song with his peers.
He left this evening knowing just how much God wants a relationship with him. He left knowing that in a matter of months, he will be confirmed in this church and with that comes the mature responsibility of knowing.
It was cool to spend that last quiet hour watching from a distance the reception my son has to this world and to his God that is frequently fought over on those early Sunday mornings before church.
Youth Director came down, ordered the mob upstairs and had them line up outside the sanctuary. From there, the doors were open and all quietly proceeded into the dark, candle lit space with acoustic guitarist serenading beautiful melodies; filling the surround.
For an hour, I took it all in. This place I spend my Sunday mornings was transformed. My son, all of 14, experienced all of his world in the freedom of one night. Dancing, noise, mess, movement and then closing, completing and capping off the evening with significant matter. The 9th grade group spread out throughout the small church, sang in the songs, reveled in the mood, praised and met their God (where ever He is in their life) and gave themselves that time to be14.
My son is growing up. I watched him stand tall in his awkwardness and relate to the simple stories of his youth director. I watched him in the dim light make his way up to the cross, write something down and lay it at the foot. From the darkened corner, i watched this tall teen swagger back to his seat and continue in song with his peers.
He left this evening knowing just how much God wants a relationship with him. He left knowing that in a matter of months, he will be confirmed in this church and with that comes the mature responsibility of knowing.
It was cool to spend that last quiet hour watching from a distance the reception my son has to this world and to his God that is frequently fought over on those early Sunday mornings before church.
The Power of an Ending
1:30 this afternoon, I am very preoccupied within someone else's significance. My phone rings. "Katie, the tub has arrived. It's here at the dock and I will be installing it on Monday." "Oh, you are just FANTASTIC!" "What, we have a bad connection....what did you say?" A little louder: "I SAID...YOU ARE FANTASTIC!" People show a sign of curiosity as their gaze transfers from their place to mine." "I'm sorry....what?" I move to where I think the connection is a bit better, but more people are gathered, "YOU....ARE....FANTASTIC!!!!" laughing heard on the other end.
Wednesday evening, after I had come home to make numerous calls to this distributor and that, I had to take Perry to church. On our way, Tim (Plumber), calls on my phone. "Katie, I am just feeling so bad. I made a few calls and I found a tub up in Duluth and my own distributor in Plymouth can supply the surround. They are going to charge a pretty penny to ship it down here, but they say it can be here within 2-3 days. Go home, make your decision and call me, as they want money on the spot.....so, it has to be fast."
I immediately call Home Depot, talk to the manager and politely ask to have them taken out of the picture for this bathroom. It would simply take way too many days and by the hour of that evening, even they said that it would be a small miracle to have that bathroom completed by Christmas as this is a very busy time of year. I call Tim back, tell him all is a go and arrange to meet him Thursday....somewhere between jobs.
Thursday late morning, we rendezvous in a Wendy's parking lot. I hand over the check in the freezing cold and could not contain myself. I had to hug him. He responded with, "Lady, I'm not so sure what this is all about....but for some reason, you and I were meant to cross paths in this life. This whole 'thing' has been a very unique experience." I looked over at him and said, "Yep, and to think that it came from me sending out a blind email asking for help." (After the first plumber's disaster, i didn't know where to turn. I looked up a few independent plumbing contractors and Tim was the only one to respond and my email was entirely a "PLEASE HELP ME" call of desperation). We departed our seperate ways, I went home, made a few more phone calls and called it a day.
Today, I was able to return to my place and tell Joy and her family that her tub and shower will be installed on Monday. Not two weeks from Monday, but on Monday (knowing our luck on issues of late, I will not get excited until I hear that all have taken a shower and nothing fell down upon this family.
Monday afternoon, I will call back my two guys who do drywall and for the third time, they will come out, wall and mud and sand the new wall around the tub. Then another fresh coat of paint and ....drum roll please....this bathroom will become a mere memory to share at parties. A "remember when" moment in time. It will turn from being the most substantial trial in this family to something rather mundane.
Or so, that is what I am shooting for.
Keep me in your thoughts on Monday and.....
Thanks for listening.
Thank you Pressure Creek Plumbing
http://davidplaisted.bbnow.org/about.php
Wednesday evening, after I had come home to make numerous calls to this distributor and that, I had to take Perry to church. On our way, Tim (Plumber), calls on my phone. "Katie, I am just feeling so bad. I made a few calls and I found a tub up in Duluth and my own distributor in Plymouth can supply the surround. They are going to charge a pretty penny to ship it down here, but they say it can be here within 2-3 days. Go home, make your decision and call me, as they want money on the spot.....so, it has to be fast."
I immediately call Home Depot, talk to the manager and politely ask to have them taken out of the picture for this bathroom. It would simply take way too many days and by the hour of that evening, even they said that it would be a small miracle to have that bathroom completed by Christmas as this is a very busy time of year. I call Tim back, tell him all is a go and arrange to meet him Thursday....somewhere between jobs.
Thursday late morning, we rendezvous in a Wendy's parking lot. I hand over the check in the freezing cold and could not contain myself. I had to hug him. He responded with, "Lady, I'm not so sure what this is all about....but for some reason, you and I were meant to cross paths in this life. This whole 'thing' has been a very unique experience." I looked over at him and said, "Yep, and to think that it came from me sending out a blind email asking for help." (After the first plumber's disaster, i didn't know where to turn. I looked up a few independent plumbing contractors and Tim was the only one to respond and my email was entirely a "PLEASE HELP ME" call of desperation). We departed our seperate ways, I went home, made a few more phone calls and called it a day.
Today, I was able to return to my place and tell Joy and her family that her tub and shower will be installed on Monday. Not two weeks from Monday, but on Monday (knowing our luck on issues of late, I will not get excited until I hear that all have taken a shower and nothing fell down upon this family.
Monday afternoon, I will call back my two guys who do drywall and for the third time, they will come out, wall and mud and sand the new wall around the tub. Then another fresh coat of paint and ....drum roll please....this bathroom will become a mere memory to share at parties. A "remember when" moment in time. It will turn from being the most substantial trial in this family to something rather mundane.
Or so, that is what I am shooting for.
Keep me in your thoughts on Monday and.....
Thanks for listening.
Thank you Pressure Creek Plumbing
http://davidplaisted.bbnow.org/about.php
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
A Bathroom Story
A demolished bathroom and remodel all done quickly in a weeks time. Donated material from HD was free but cheap. Plumber was free and took short cuts to get job done. Visual looked good, but in days time, turned out to be a non-working bath and shower.
Take 2: New Plumber - expert plumber. Paid Plumber. Leveled an uneven tub, but in the process, the cheap tub took a beating and began to flex in places it shouldn't have. Water began to pool in places and within days, began to drain over the edges of the tub - creating a waterfall effect onto the floor.
Called plumber back, met at the home, assessed the bathroom issue and concluded that the tub must come out. A top of the line model is what is needed to sustain this family. Again, back on the phone, talking to tub reps, Home Depot managers, UPS delivery, and plumber.
Almost 3 weeks ago, I ordered the tub that came by recommendation - as Home Depot does not carry a tub of that size in their store front, but they do sell it online. I order the tub and schedule the plumber for today (Wednesday). I met him there at 9am, he took out the surround, took out the tub, through it all in the dumpster that is now on the driveway and went to get the new tub. He and his co-worker bring it in, get into the bathroom and shout my name. "It's backwards. The drain is on the wrong side. We need a right hand tub and this is a left hand tub."
Back on the phone. Plumber makes calls to all his contacts. "Is there anyway to get a 32" tub here today?" is the question of the hour and he and I pass each other up in our paces of the floor.
It is concluded that I need to go into Home Depot and have a meeting with the Store Manager. A bit of face to face time. A bit of time that I can not afford. The 2 year old has not napped all day, has not had a decent lunch and is now going with me to a meeting of sorts.
Sitting down for 40 minutes, the Manager and I find out that Home Depot Online does not sell a RH Tub, but only a left hand one. The right hand tub has to be special ordered and no, they can not express deliver it because it is too big. It will take an additional 12 days for delivery.
I left defeated. tears in my eyes. This family now has no tub in their bathroom. No shower for 12 days.
This is not how the picture was to look like 7 months ago. Why is this room giving me such constant issue? When I have that answer, I will share it with you.
Thanks for listening.
http://davidplaisted.bbnow.org/
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Counting My Days
My eyes squint as the sunset hits and the hues of orange and red add splendor to the winter scene.
My side gets more heavy as I reminisce of just weeks ago; body sprawled on the driveway, sun on my face, toddler on his bike, perhaps a glass of red wine by my side. This is no longer, and the melody of that day softly stays and sings within.
Winter covers. It does not negotiate. It blankets all the wrong and mistakes made and forgives. There are days when one feels Winter harbors a grudge against you as your slip, slide, shiver and shake your way through the day. I try to make peace with it - but maybe like a child who knows she has done wrong in the eyes of the parent, i often steer clear of it's path.
I have experienced 18 winters. The lack of welcoming in the season should have eased with time and yet, I stand at the window - contemplative and questioning how these following days, weeks and months will be numbered until I am back out in the beauty and warmth of it's melt.
The Majesty of it's white coat is here and should be marveled and revered, from the inside of a warmed pane and coffee in my grip.
Thanks for listening
Monday, December 5, 2011
A Furnace Story
A month ago, John and I decided that it was in Joy's best interest to be on the Home Service Plus Plan. I told her that it would be our Christmas gift to her (laugh). In that, I had scheduled a maintenance check on her furnace for Nov. 30th. Being familiar with Joy's karma at the moment, it seemed necessary to get a clean bill of health for her furnace.
8:15am Centerpoint Energy walks into the house. 8:25, the representative was out in his truck calling into his supervisor. He came back into the house, and red-tagged Joy's furnace, deeming it to dangerous to operate. I arrived at the house after Joy's text arrived on my phone telling me not to come - as the furnace is now off. Joy was informed that the earliest she could get a new furnace was early next week (Monday, December 5).
I went home, made some calls as another friend sent over her handy man to assess the situation. A new furnace - this was to equal thousands of dollars.
I remembered having a conversation with a friend who worked with Community Action. I called them, left messages, sat on hold, etc. By day's end, I had spoken to a person who had Joy's file in front of her -- as Joy qualified for Energy Assistance, they had a file on her. She promised to put it on the desk of her supervisor to look at in the morning. In the mean time, I ran over two space heaters, one for a bedroom and one to keep the house Water Well pipes from freezing over night.
Thursday morning, I call first thing - trying not to be in the long line of those who also need attention. The same game - on hold, messages left, and by mid afternoon, I spoke to the supervisor who in turn wanted to get a hold of Joy. Joy rarely answers her phone - so i immediately texted her, "Pick up phone when it rings."
Jennifer told Joy that Friday, she will have someone out there to assess the furnace. Friday morning 8:30, a man came in and immediately walked out. He could not work on the furnace, but would let Joy know of the plan later in the afternoon.
9:00 - a team from a furnace company came, knocked on the door, went downstairs and began to dismantle Joy's furnace. by 10:30, they were bringing a new one in. Both Joy and I were baffled by how this communication came about. Joy called Jennifer, who's voicemail said she would be in meetings all day, and talked to the furnace guys - no one could say where the communication came from.
Joy finally talked to Jennifer who told her that all receipts will be invoiced directly through Community Action and Joy will not have to pay a dime for her new Energy Efficient furnace from Centraire. at 4pm, Friday, Joy texted me to say that it was 62 degrees and feeling like a heatwave.
So, that is my furnace story. Something that was supposed to take 6 days to even begin was all said and done with in a matter of 48 hours.
Thanks for listening
8:15am Centerpoint Energy walks into the house. 8:25, the representative was out in his truck calling into his supervisor. He came back into the house, and red-tagged Joy's furnace, deeming it to dangerous to operate. I arrived at the house after Joy's text arrived on my phone telling me not to come - as the furnace is now off. Joy was informed that the earliest she could get a new furnace was early next week (Monday, December 5).
I went home, made some calls as another friend sent over her handy man to assess the situation. A new furnace - this was to equal thousands of dollars.
I remembered having a conversation with a friend who worked with Community Action. I called them, left messages, sat on hold, etc. By day's end, I had spoken to a person who had Joy's file in front of her -- as Joy qualified for Energy Assistance, they had a file on her. She promised to put it on the desk of her supervisor to look at in the morning. In the mean time, I ran over two space heaters, one for a bedroom and one to keep the house Water Well pipes from freezing over night.
Thursday morning, I call first thing - trying not to be in the long line of those who also need attention. The same game - on hold, messages left, and by mid afternoon, I spoke to the supervisor who in turn wanted to get a hold of Joy. Joy rarely answers her phone - so i immediately texted her, "Pick up phone when it rings."
Jennifer told Joy that Friday, she will have someone out there to assess the furnace. Friday morning 8:30, a man came in and immediately walked out. He could not work on the furnace, but would let Joy know of the plan later in the afternoon.
9:00 - a team from a furnace company came, knocked on the door, went downstairs and began to dismantle Joy's furnace. by 10:30, they were bringing a new one in. Both Joy and I were baffled by how this communication came about. Joy called Jennifer, who's voicemail said she would be in meetings all day, and talked to the furnace guys - no one could say where the communication came from.
Joy finally talked to Jennifer who told her that all receipts will be invoiced directly through Community Action and Joy will not have to pay a dime for her new Energy Efficient furnace from Centraire. at 4pm, Friday, Joy texted me to say that it was 62 degrees and feeling like a heatwave.
So, that is my furnace story. Something that was supposed to take 6 days to even begin was all said and done with in a matter of 48 hours.
Thanks for listening
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Insignificant Obsession
Again, not sure why the title. it just came out.
I need to write - but questioning each letter pressed, each word formed, each sentence misunderstood.
Sometimes i want something so desperately and i begin to climb that mountain to attain for which is sought - but each time i look up, i seem to see the faces of those who already have climbed before me - standing strong with hands held high and i tend to lose momentum.
This blog, once again, will circle around grief. I am finding misplacement ---- is that a word? I see what I want to do, where I want to be in the picture, where I want joy to be --- but this is a losing battle, for it is not my world; it is hers. But I have been strongly invited in as a guest.
To see where others that match me in this world have done within their own journey makes me highly question mine.
The benefit raised, from beginning to end, something close to 7,000.00. I am not pleased with this number, for I have observed what others have done in the same circumstance. But again, it is not my world to make the decisions. I am the outsider, not the one who is living within this agony. So, I step up time and time again. What can I do? How can I fix it? Where is a need to be met and I will meet it. But I have to search and to ask and in the interim, i read and research - which bascially means that my whole damn existence is entrenched in other people's grief and their words of loss and their shattered livlihoods.
Some get up and bake every morning Some escape to other countries to find peace. Others are incredibly pro active and begin foundations and host galas and create 5k runs to raise awareness of this or that. I sit down at 8:48pm and read those blogs.
I send out emails to those assumingly close. Let's DO something, I say. Let's light a fire and make this life worth living! Let's plan, Let's execute. Help me help them. The door continuallly closes in my face and defeats me on that mountain.
So, tonight, I am feeling sorry for myself. I am feeling the loss of what I could do if i were on the other side of that door. I am feeling anxious of my shortcomings. We are veering on 9 months.
I told Joy the other day, what would her life look like if she were not tossed and turned and toiled under from every wave that hits and smacks her down. How much would she have been able to grow.... I feel akin to these feelings. What could have been done if doors opened.
I will close this blog and continue to read the others that hold a space upon my desk top. I will read about Liz or Mikey, Kalylee or Thomas and their lives that ended to abruptly. I will listen to the one who grieves and suvives them and I will try to keep climbing that mountain....but it really isn't mine to climb. My job is to keep hold of the safety net below and encourage those who are in need of climbing.
Thanks for listening
I need to write - but questioning each letter pressed, each word formed, each sentence misunderstood.
Sometimes i want something so desperately and i begin to climb that mountain to attain for which is sought - but each time i look up, i seem to see the faces of those who already have climbed before me - standing strong with hands held high and i tend to lose momentum.
This blog, once again, will circle around grief. I am finding misplacement ---- is that a word? I see what I want to do, where I want to be in the picture, where I want joy to be --- but this is a losing battle, for it is not my world; it is hers. But I have been strongly invited in as a guest.
To see where others that match me in this world have done within their own journey makes me highly question mine.
The benefit raised, from beginning to end, something close to 7,000.00. I am not pleased with this number, for I have observed what others have done in the same circumstance. But again, it is not my world to make the decisions. I am the outsider, not the one who is living within this agony. So, I step up time and time again. What can I do? How can I fix it? Where is a need to be met and I will meet it. But I have to search and to ask and in the interim, i read and research - which bascially means that my whole damn existence is entrenched in other people's grief and their words of loss and their shattered livlihoods.
Some get up and bake every morning Some escape to other countries to find peace. Others are incredibly pro active and begin foundations and host galas and create 5k runs to raise awareness of this or that. I sit down at 8:48pm and read those blogs.
I send out emails to those assumingly close. Let's DO something, I say. Let's light a fire and make this life worth living! Let's plan, Let's execute. Help me help them. The door continuallly closes in my face and defeats me on that mountain.
So, tonight, I am feeling sorry for myself. I am feeling the loss of what I could do if i were on the other side of that door. I am feeling anxious of my shortcomings. We are veering on 9 months.
I told Joy the other day, what would her life look like if she were not tossed and turned and toiled under from every wave that hits and smacks her down. How much would she have been able to grow.... I feel akin to these feelings. What could have been done if doors opened.
I will close this blog and continue to read the others that hold a space upon my desk top. I will read about Liz or Mikey, Kalylee or Thomas and their lives that ended to abruptly. I will listen to the one who grieves and suvives them and I will try to keep climbing that mountain....but it really isn't mine to climb. My job is to keep hold of the safety net below and encourage those who are in need of climbing.
Thanks for listening
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Week In Pictures
MONDAY - Trains on the floor with Sidney
TUESDAY - Teaching myself about well pressure to help a friend fix her house well
WEDNESDAY - quick mayhem: piano practice in one room. Guitar practice in another. Two year old throwing blanket over my head. Quizzing daughter on spelling words
THURSDAY - evening out with a friend
FRIDAY - 14 year old had a party at our house. This is before the friends came
TUESDAY - Teaching myself about well pressure to help a friend fix her house well
WEDNESDAY - quick mayhem: piano practice in one room. Guitar practice in another. Two year old throwing blanket over my head. Quizzing daughter on spelling words
THURSDAY - evening out with a friend
FRIDAY - 14 year old had a party at our house. This is before the friends came
post
My fingers tap at the keyboard. I sit with friend's handmade blanket wrapped about and the laptop rests upon the soft yarn. I opened up to find discovery tonight - to see if i open up the cognitive senses, if something will take place or transpire into a significant or noteworthy marker in this ticking clock spectrum.
There is a rhythm to my writing - i am not sure i understand how it works or how it comes across as something real. There is mandolin symphony playing and singing softly - filling in this rhythm with it's cadence.
I have had a desire to fill my life. Of course, I will grow old and gray and say things like, "I could have been this." "I wish I was that." It is hard to live the life of a Pessimist. "I could have been a whistle, I could have been a flute. I real life giver, could have been a boot.' I think i like to say at the end of the day that i tried my best to be something....but then measure to those about and insignificance comes along side and cozies right in.
So, even though my life is in full swing of transition at the moment, i can sit in response and say i am fulfilled; but I am always looking for more. If I swam the English Channel, I would measure myself up against the others who did the same; instead of basking in the flow of placement. I am not sure where this comes from. Trying to find moments.
Sitting on the couch, music playing, SNL in the background, and no worries and yet I still try to measure up. I like to keep my issues close at hand. I think i need to go out and dance; get lost within the drone - - but for now, i shall simply go and rest my head and be thankful.
Thanks for listening.
There is a rhythm to my writing - i am not sure i understand how it works or how it comes across as something real. There is mandolin symphony playing and singing softly - filling in this rhythm with it's cadence.
I have had a desire to fill my life. Of course, I will grow old and gray and say things like, "I could have been this." "I wish I was that." It is hard to live the life of a Pessimist. "I could have been a whistle, I could have been a flute. I real life giver, could have been a boot.' I think i like to say at the end of the day that i tried my best to be something....but then measure to those about and insignificance comes along side and cozies right in.
So, even though my life is in full swing of transition at the moment, i can sit in response and say i am fulfilled; but I am always looking for more. If I swam the English Channel, I would measure myself up against the others who did the same; instead of basking in the flow of placement. I am not sure where this comes from. Trying to find moments.
Sitting on the couch, music playing, SNL in the background, and no worries and yet I still try to measure up. I like to keep my issues close at hand. I think i need to go out and dance; get lost within the drone - - but for now, i shall simply go and rest my head and be thankful.
Thanks for listening.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Russian Federation
Hello! This is the only way i know how to post to you. I am curious about the person who visits my blog from the Russian Federation as well as Moscow. Can you let me know who you are? I love seeing that you come to visit, i would like to know more about you.
Thank you,
Katie
Thank you,
Katie
Words
Dependence....Reliance.... Trust....Confidence.....Expectation.......Support....Responsibility
I take in these words, write them down, concentrate upon them and reflect in the significance of each. I hesitate in each meaning and wonder in responsibility. This blog is turning into something else. It is becoming a place for me to place my heart for a few minutes before I collect it and put it back in its place. A decision to shed the awareness of thought within my present and understanding....feeling an established and guided placement of direction.
But question. Always in question.
How much do you give of yourself?
When does giving become harmful?
If you don't feel compromised, but see question in the eyes of others, do you mark their worth?
When should you let others be and when should you step in for their lack thereof?
Is Doing Your Best....actually, doing your best?
Is it detrimental to follow your heart?
There are many days when my calendar dictates the care of two active families. This has become a part of me; a true part of who I am, even how I define myself from time to time. How decisions are made. I am following the tide that God has allowed for me and smile when i actively see transition. But I have to take in those momentary breathes of pause, sit, be still and question.
Coldplay Song --- playing it over and over again http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JI-o25K6B-E&ob=av2e
When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I
Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you
8 Months - Today...it has been 8 months
She has experienced those days that give her a glimpse of what light shining on her really feels like. She laughs in this light and it brings a lilt to her step – but then, without notice, the door slams in her face and she is lost in the darkness once again. There is little to feed her when this happens, but she is faithful and looks for that light to come again. She knows it will; but the endurance at times is unbearable. But…it is there.
In 8 months, she has had to change and move on without David – as much as she has hesitated, regretted or felt powerless in the process. She has allowed me to come into her life in a way that would never be allowed before; this has been a very conscious choice for only her David has been closer. She holds 2 jobs and conquers a ‘Things to Do’ list that never would hold such urgency 8 months ago – but this list keeps her mind busy and her body from crumbling.
I wonder….if David walked through his front door today, would he even recognize this wife of his; this woman who is in constant redefinition. She has phenomenal strength and exceptional tenacity that provide an unmatched strength to her children. She proves to her children strength beyond measure, a muscle, a force, a potency.
In 8 months, she has not compromised the ideals and values of her family. As difficult as it has been, she has lead a life of grace and integrity and has been determined to not be compromised. At times, she feels embarrassed to the grieving widow. People do not know how to approach her, grieve with her, or walk along the path of this journey.
In 8 months, she has surpassed her grieving peers. When comparing to others within this time continuum, she is leaps and bounds above where they are at - and yet, those around are often perplexed that she is not 'moved on.' I sometimes tell her that she is climbing Mt. Everest and passing those around her without an even wearing an oxygen tank.
She amazes me, astonishes me and surprises me. More people should have the privilege of knowing her.
Those questions will always come and creep up on me when I least expect them. I look for answers, but at the end of the day, turn to my blog and write.
Thanks for listening.
I take in these words, write them down, concentrate upon them and reflect in the significance of each. I hesitate in each meaning and wonder in responsibility. This blog is turning into something else. It is becoming a place for me to place my heart for a few minutes before I collect it and put it back in its place. A decision to shed the awareness of thought within my present and understanding....feeling an established and guided placement of direction.
But question. Always in question.
How much do you give of yourself?
When does giving become harmful?
If you don't feel compromised, but see question in the eyes of others, do you mark their worth?
When should you let others be and when should you step in for their lack thereof?
Is Doing Your Best....actually, doing your best?
Is it detrimental to follow your heart?
There are many days when my calendar dictates the care of two active families. This has become a part of me; a true part of who I am, even how I define myself from time to time. How decisions are made. I am following the tide that God has allowed for me and smile when i actively see transition. But I have to take in those momentary breathes of pause, sit, be still and question.
Coldplay Song --- playing it over and over again http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JI-o25K6B-E&ob=av2e
When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I
Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you
8 Months - Today...it has been 8 months
She has experienced those days that give her a glimpse of what light shining on her really feels like. She laughs in this light and it brings a lilt to her step – but then, without notice, the door slams in her face and she is lost in the darkness once again. There is little to feed her when this happens, but she is faithful and looks for that light to come again. She knows it will; but the endurance at times is unbearable. But…it is there.
In 8 months, she has had to change and move on without David – as much as she has hesitated, regretted or felt powerless in the process. She has allowed me to come into her life in a way that would never be allowed before; this has been a very conscious choice for only her David has been closer. She holds 2 jobs and conquers a ‘Things to Do’ list that never would hold such urgency 8 months ago – but this list keeps her mind busy and her body from crumbling.
I wonder….if David walked through his front door today, would he even recognize this wife of his; this woman who is in constant redefinition. She has phenomenal strength and exceptional tenacity that provide an unmatched strength to her children. She proves to her children strength beyond measure, a muscle, a force, a potency.
In 8 months, she has not compromised the ideals and values of her family. As difficult as it has been, she has lead a life of grace and integrity and has been determined to not be compromised. At times, she feels embarrassed to the grieving widow. People do not know how to approach her, grieve with her, or walk along the path of this journey.
In 8 months, she has surpassed her grieving peers. When comparing to others within this time continuum, she is leaps and bounds above where they are at - and yet, those around are often perplexed that she is not 'moved on.' I sometimes tell her that she is climbing Mt. Everest and passing those around her without an even wearing an oxygen tank.
She amazes me, astonishes me and surprises me. More people should have the privilege of knowing her.
Those questions will always come and creep up on me when I least expect them. I look for answers, but at the end of the day, turn to my blog and write.
Thanks for listening.
Friday, October 7, 2011
The Here and Now
Well, there it is. This is the visual of what was a thought, a guffaw, a moment of impossibility....there it sits.
15 days .... i am operating within crushed minutes of the here and now. I am operating with lengthy lists, cell phone check offs, scrap paper doodles and a pile of hope that lays at peace behind my sun room couches...soon to take space on a table to be auctioned off.
The toddler is asleep, the kitchen is finally cleaned of all its stickiness and taunting , the music is on and I have an hour and a half of focused planning time. SO, there it is. The power of Be. The power of Maybe. The power of, MAN, What in the WORLD was I thinking???50 plus items...hardly a dent in the Silent Auction venue. I feel defeated - knowing that if i had a committee or assistance, or a "how can I help?" or "what can I do?" it would be so much better.
When i hand Joy over the $45.20 check after all is said and done - she and I will go spend it on dinner somewhere; taking in deep breathes, laughing at the experience and nodding our heads in agreement. I gave it my best. It might have amounted to absolutely nothing, but I gave it my best.
There it is.
Aside: last week, i went out with a friend of mine whom i had not seen in about a years time. Around 'dessert" time, she asked for an update on 'that friend of yours who's husband died...." Before we left the table that evening - two cups of coffee later....we had notes written, a things to do list drafted up, a 'committee' of 1 that was willing to take on any odd job i threw her way. I was in tears, quietly telling her, Thank you, thank you, thank you. To see my work added and given direction and new eyes was everything i could ask for. She has since called twice - crossing off items on her list and wondering what else her 'committee' can take on. I am blessed by this. Overwhelmed. And didn't realize the strength and empowerment of a committee of one
Saturday, September 17, 2011
3:20
there is no title to this blog and it will be a quick - type, get the thoughts out and hit enter. Sidney is waking up and my time of respite has come to an end.
latley, I have been mandating that I take in periods of rest. I have actually napped in the past two days - but that may be because i am getting to bed by 1pm and up at 6:30. I am not sure. But, I am in absolute need of moments of unscheduled nothing. I am not sure if this is good or not. When I nap, i wake up tired, anyway. When i 'schedule nothing' - i find myself surfing the web. lately, i have been reading other people's blogs. If you go to the top of my blog, you hit "Next Blog" and that is what i have been doing.
It has given me introspection of where people are at and where i once was. Lately, the randomness of design has led me to blogs of younger mothers. Mothers in their early 20's who have chosen to stay at home. I once was one of these mothers -- three car seats in the back of a van - doing preschool runs, volunteering for fingerpainting days, making crafts at home...well, my crafts always had a comedic outtake becuase i do not do crafts and they came out lopsided, burnt, or on the verge of collapse.
I sit here now - closer to turning 44 than 43. My life has been heavy laden as of late. I am not that young mother who has those moments of free spiritness to share with the world about the cuteness of her days.
I have a 14 year old boy who is on the absolute edge of taking off and flying solo. There is nothing innocent about this. He is under a constant watch and more than anybody, he gets my discussions on life, decisions, consequences of action, future outlooks, innocence and excitment. I am purposely allowing him to fill his days with goodness and saying "yes" quite a bit more than "no." The ties between us are growing stronger as he strengthens the distance between mother and son.
I have a 12 year old who is taking an incredible and challenging plunge into his own life. i am right there with him, but no longer am i holding his hand and leading --- but simply watching him go.....He wants to so much be independent and the challenge is just that. He is not ready. The navigation of our days is always in question and one false move will bring us back to the beginning.
I have a 10 year old girl who is in great need of validation. she too is marking her ground - but her voice has become quieter and her moments of wanting to be by herself are more frequent. So, as a parent - i can wish for those days of baby time. Singing, playing, rocking, laughing, attatching to one thing or the next - but my job has shifted and I am the mother of three very independent, unique and on the go kids.
It is intense and noting to share lightly. The blessing is that with age and understanding, the conversations are far more rewarding. I *am* enjoying this life of mine, i am enjoying these moments and do not take them for granted, i just envy a bit that brownie making mom at times.
I read those blogs of younger mothers and it seems like an ideal world. My blogs are no longer rainbow colored - but then again....this is not the time.
I have a 2 year old boy who for all intense and purpose, is also transitioning. Soon, i will write about him and the songs we are learning and his cute first picture of preschool or his playdate arrangements with friends. Now, we are getting reaquanted with one another. His days are new. it is just mommy in the house and he is finding a voice. A very loud voice, might I add. But those roll on the carpet times are back with uninterrupted hours.
I am in grief. Each day, I am taking on a very large load of nothing but what grief looks like. I have mentioned in the past - this is all good. it is, but the reality of it plays the toll on who i am and my outlook. By the time i get to write in my blog, i have already spent the day with a 14 year old teen (and most likely friends), 12 year old angst, 10 year old in transistion and an all day 2 year old. I have scattered that day with writings, and research of grief and nothing but grief and being there to comfort and encourage a friend....and whatever it takes out of me, I am still in it. I have said in the past, perhaps I, oneday, will seek out my own grief counselor.
I apologize for the heaviness of my posts, but i am here. I am an almost 44 year old busy mother of 4. My children wear dirty, wrinkled clothing. The boys smell 75% of the time. They no longer brush their hair and I would think twice having them pose for an impromtu family photo. We are living life the best we know how.
I know i do not need to justify myself in my personal blog. it is mine and it captures my feelings of the day - i just find the irony of being in such a different place than the blogs that I have somehow stumbled upon. Innocent, and "Awww" in response.
Am I a negative person? I dont' think so. Am I in one of the hardest and most significant places in my life at this time? Absolutely.
I am hitting enter now.
latley, I have been mandating that I take in periods of rest. I have actually napped in the past two days - but that may be because i am getting to bed by 1pm and up at 6:30. I am not sure. But, I am in absolute need of moments of unscheduled nothing. I am not sure if this is good or not. When I nap, i wake up tired, anyway. When i 'schedule nothing' - i find myself surfing the web. lately, i have been reading other people's blogs. If you go to the top of my blog, you hit "Next Blog" and that is what i have been doing.
It has given me introspection of where people are at and where i once was. Lately, the randomness of design has led me to blogs of younger mothers. Mothers in their early 20's who have chosen to stay at home. I once was one of these mothers -- three car seats in the back of a van - doing preschool runs, volunteering for fingerpainting days, making crafts at home...well, my crafts always had a comedic outtake becuase i do not do crafts and they came out lopsided, burnt, or on the verge of collapse.
I sit here now - closer to turning 44 than 43. My life has been heavy laden as of late. I am not that young mother who has those moments of free spiritness to share with the world about the cuteness of her days.
I have a 14 year old boy who is on the absolute edge of taking off and flying solo. There is nothing innocent about this. He is under a constant watch and more than anybody, he gets my discussions on life, decisions, consequences of action, future outlooks, innocence and excitment. I am purposely allowing him to fill his days with goodness and saying "yes" quite a bit more than "no." The ties between us are growing stronger as he strengthens the distance between mother and son.
I have a 12 year old who is taking an incredible and challenging plunge into his own life. i am right there with him, but no longer am i holding his hand and leading --- but simply watching him go.....He wants to so much be independent and the challenge is just that. He is not ready. The navigation of our days is always in question and one false move will bring us back to the beginning.
I have a 10 year old girl who is in great need of validation. she too is marking her ground - but her voice has become quieter and her moments of wanting to be by herself are more frequent. So, as a parent - i can wish for those days of baby time. Singing, playing, rocking, laughing, attatching to one thing or the next - but my job has shifted and I am the mother of three very independent, unique and on the go kids.
It is intense and noting to share lightly. The blessing is that with age and understanding, the conversations are far more rewarding. I *am* enjoying this life of mine, i am enjoying these moments and do not take them for granted, i just envy a bit that brownie making mom at times.
I read those blogs of younger mothers and it seems like an ideal world. My blogs are no longer rainbow colored - but then again....this is not the time.
I have a 2 year old boy who for all intense and purpose, is also transitioning. Soon, i will write about him and the songs we are learning and his cute first picture of preschool or his playdate arrangements with friends. Now, we are getting reaquanted with one another. His days are new. it is just mommy in the house and he is finding a voice. A very loud voice, might I add. But those roll on the carpet times are back with uninterrupted hours.
I am in grief. Each day, I am taking on a very large load of nothing but what grief looks like. I have mentioned in the past - this is all good. it is, but the reality of it plays the toll on who i am and my outlook. By the time i get to write in my blog, i have already spent the day with a 14 year old teen (and most likely friends), 12 year old angst, 10 year old in transistion and an all day 2 year old. I have scattered that day with writings, and research of grief and nothing but grief and being there to comfort and encourage a friend....and whatever it takes out of me, I am still in it. I have said in the past, perhaps I, oneday, will seek out my own grief counselor.
I apologize for the heaviness of my posts, but i am here. I am an almost 44 year old busy mother of 4. My children wear dirty, wrinkled clothing. The boys smell 75% of the time. They no longer brush their hair and I would think twice having them pose for an impromtu family photo. We are living life the best we know how.
I know i do not need to justify myself in my personal blog. it is mine and it captures my feelings of the day - i just find the irony of being in such a different place than the blogs that I have somehow stumbled upon. Innocent, and "Awww" in response.
Am I a negative person? I dont' think so. Am I in one of the hardest and most significant places in my life at this time? Absolutely.
I am hitting enter now.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Point of Discussion
I have an assignment to analyze this story and come up with something significant. I will let you know when it happens.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XtnG37texEI
The Crow and the Pitcher
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XtnG37texEI
The Crow and the Pitcher
Sunday, September 11, 2011
September
September is in the air. As soon as it appeared - i knew that transistion this year would be the most significant in quite some time.
Today, the kids play outside across the street in a pool of water. This is no longer something to look forward to, but a siezing of the day. Sweaters, jeans, scarves, hats, and soon to be mittens, jackets, boots and sleds. The children in bathing suits, the ones laying upon the grass with eyes closed in the sun's rays will soon be rolling snow balls, creating snowmen, snowforts and coming in wet, red nosed and asking for hot chocolate.
Transistion
I am not one to accept transition well. I need to have control over almost everything that is thrown my way. If i could mark transistion on the calendar, I would.
So, i ease into it. I prepare slowly. I educate myself with resources and I plan.
The loud music plays on the driveway as my oldest has rigged up two more speakers to continue in the flair of his life.He *is* transition. I would like to say i envy this about him, but i do not. I believe he will always be a fly by the seat of your pants guy. The party will always be at Perry's Place.
I wanted to sit down and write, but with the windows open, my mind on 9/11, my attention to the little bodies outside in play, it just isn't coming.
I am in need of transition. I am in need of placement. I am turning that page and it is blank - welcoming me to fill it. Next September, I will look back on today and reflect on how i did it. How did i step into something i knew nothing about. How did i transpire in that past year without a plan in place.
Today marks my first day.
Thank you for listening.
Today, the kids play outside across the street in a pool of water. This is no longer something to look forward to, but a siezing of the day. Sweaters, jeans, scarves, hats, and soon to be mittens, jackets, boots and sleds. The children in bathing suits, the ones laying upon the grass with eyes closed in the sun's rays will soon be rolling snow balls, creating snowmen, snowforts and coming in wet, red nosed and asking for hot chocolate.
Transistion
I am not one to accept transition well. I need to have control over almost everything that is thrown my way. If i could mark transistion on the calendar, I would.
So, i ease into it. I prepare slowly. I educate myself with resources and I plan.
The loud music plays on the driveway as my oldest has rigged up two more speakers to continue in the flair of his life.He *is* transition. I would like to say i envy this about him, but i do not. I believe he will always be a fly by the seat of your pants guy. The party will always be at Perry's Place.
I wanted to sit down and write, but with the windows open, my mind on 9/11, my attention to the little bodies outside in play, it just isn't coming.
I am in need of transition. I am in need of placement. I am turning that page and it is blank - welcoming me to fill it. Next September, I will look back on today and reflect on how i did it. How did i step into something i knew nothing about. How did i transpire in that past year without a plan in place.
Today marks my first day.
Thank you for listening.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
6 Months
There are too many metaphors to speak of in these past 6 months. Too many inside jokes that have been formed simply to mark a moment in the day. Each building atop of the next ..blanketed in strength.
what does 6 months mean? I'm not sure. I am in the trenches. I am protective. I am fighting a fight. I am not letting go. I am.... I am ....not sure.
I am confused. I am disappointed. I am perplexed. I am frustrated. I am hesitant. I am troubled. I am questionable. I am disgusted. I am tired. I am exhausted. I am striving. I am lost. I am emotional. I am fragile. I am weakened. I am on my knees. I am weary. I am struggling.
I am isolated.
I am......
I am honored. I am fulfilled. I am rewarded. I am energized. I am at peace. I am pulling. I am pushing. I am guiding. I am listening. I am reaching out. I am sacrificing. I am here. I am still. I am active. I am bold. I am brazen. I am directive. I am leading. I am following. I am quiet. I am loud. I am silent. I am present. I am hopeful. I am confident. I am trust. I am love. I am loyal. I am laughter. I am strength.
I am.....
I am perseverance
These past (soon to be) six months have not been all encompassing. I feel i share in this life as I would a newborn child. A being that takes up all time; but the capacity to love, thrive and continue with all additional aspects of one's life are all still there and available. It is when I stop or I slow down - (and for those of you who truly know me, you know that my physical body is always on the move) that I am able to give complete concentration to my day and this 6 month old experience takes hold. I've often thought of seeking out my own grief counselor. Wouldn't *that* look funny.
I have told her that one day, she and I will be on a book tour circuit. She will be the voice of reason and eloquently speak of her days gone by. I will be to her right, with my fancy pen, signing the covers of my first book, "Scrambled Eggs and Wrinkle Cream"
Thanks for listening
what does 6 months mean? I'm not sure. I am in the trenches. I am protective. I am fighting a fight. I am not letting go. I am.... I am ....not sure.
I am confused. I am disappointed. I am perplexed. I am frustrated. I am hesitant. I am troubled. I am questionable. I am disgusted. I am tired. I am exhausted. I am striving. I am lost. I am emotional. I am fragile. I am weakened. I am on my knees. I am weary. I am struggling.
I am isolated.
I am......
I am honored. I am fulfilled. I am rewarded. I am energized. I am at peace. I am pulling. I am pushing. I am guiding. I am listening. I am reaching out. I am sacrificing. I am here. I am still. I am active. I am bold. I am brazen. I am directive. I am leading. I am following. I am quiet. I am loud. I am silent. I am present. I am hopeful. I am confident. I am trust. I am love. I am loyal. I am laughter. I am strength.
I am.....
I am perseverance
These past (soon to be) six months have not been all encompassing. I feel i share in this life as I would a newborn child. A being that takes up all time; but the capacity to love, thrive and continue with all additional aspects of one's life are all still there and available. It is when I stop or I slow down - (and for those of you who truly know me, you know that my physical body is always on the move) that I am able to give complete concentration to my day and this 6 month old experience takes hold. I've often thought of seeking out my own grief counselor. Wouldn't *that* look funny.
I have told her that one day, she and I will be on a book tour circuit. She will be the voice of reason and eloquently speak of her days gone by. I will be to her right, with my fancy pen, signing the covers of my first book, "Scrambled Eggs and Wrinkle Cream"
Thanks for listening
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Life #18
Today, I received an email from Shannon. My best friend during the high school years. She announces that at the age of 43, she is now expecting her 5th child.
Communication with the other is a blink here, a speck of dust there. It is not uncommon for a significant life event to be shared via email.
I paused in reading and let the flood of memory soothe over. It took but a second, but years shared with this friend took hold of me and left me yearning for a bit of yesteryear.
10 years ago, i found myself in a writing class in downtown Minneapolis. Spontaneous writing moments were quick and an exercise in fluidity of thought. Tonight, while looking for an entirely different document - one that is relevant to my present day, I found an old writing assignment that I wrote in class. We were to reflect on a life moment that brought significance to the present. At the time, I had 3 babies at home and knowing they would one day grow up and explore their own adventurous exploits, I wrote one of mine.
….
----
The Mission Impossible theme resonates loudly in my head. You know what I'm talking about, the one with the opening montage when the wick is lit and swiftly moves across the screen....The drum sound that mimics the frantic beat of a heart?
Delicate footwork finds us on the roof of my car. Black on black outfits set the tone for the objective. Wrench in hand, hammer in pocket; we approach the goal in silence.
Shannon and I soon get accustomed to jumping off the car and laying down flat when headlights come within line of vision. But, determination reigns supreme. Back on roof.
“Okay, I’ve assessed the situation and I think we can get it this time.” And sounding like any professional surgeon on the job, “Nurse, vise grip.”
“Police car. Jump!” Shannon shouts. And that is exactly what we do. We land on the wet grass and huddle close by the side of the passenger door. The car passes, we compose ourselves and we proceed.
Remember, we are on a mission and there is a job to be done. We will not rest easily with defeat. We have trained long and hard for this to fall through the cracks....well, that's a lie. But it sounds impressive and important.
Back on hood, over windshield, eventually on roof. A horn honks, a dog barks, a porch light flashes on – then off. Shannon’s demands of quickening the pace are muffled by the looming thunder. We look around cautiously. During that midnight hour, all is quiet except for the hissing of spinning wheels on wet pavement. Our breaths are quick and fast. Deep breath in and out. Mission accomplished!
The open trunk of my car dictates the use of side streets. We press our lips to the aluminum rims of the coca-cola cans. Our sweaty palms greet each other in a celebratory high five. We discuss where in her room the green and white Shannon Boulevard sign we just unhinged from the neighborhood street will find it’s refuge; above the trendy Mickey Mouse push button phone or next to the Jake Ryan, Sixteen Candles heartthrob movie poster.
Communication with the other is a blink here, a speck of dust there. It is not uncommon for a significant life event to be shared via email.
I paused in reading and let the flood of memory soothe over. It took but a second, but years shared with this friend took hold of me and left me yearning for a bit of yesteryear.
10 years ago, i found myself in a writing class in downtown Minneapolis. Spontaneous writing moments were quick and an exercise in fluidity of thought. Tonight, while looking for an entirely different document - one that is relevant to my present day, I found an old writing assignment that I wrote in class. We were to reflect on a life moment that brought significance to the present. At the time, I had 3 babies at home and knowing they would one day grow up and explore their own adventurous exploits, I wrote one of mine.
….
----
The Mission Impossible theme resonates loudly in my head. You know what I'm talking about, the one with the opening montage when the wick is lit and swiftly moves across the screen....The drum sound that mimics the frantic beat of a heart?
Delicate footwork finds us on the roof of my car. Black on black outfits set the tone for the objective. Wrench in hand, hammer in pocket; we approach the goal in silence.
Shannon and I soon get accustomed to jumping off the car and laying down flat when headlights come within line of vision. But, determination reigns supreme. Back on roof.
“Okay, I’ve assessed the situation and I think we can get it this time.” And sounding like any professional surgeon on the job, “Nurse, vise grip.”
“Police car. Jump!” Shannon shouts. And that is exactly what we do. We land on the wet grass and huddle close by the side of the passenger door. The car passes, we compose ourselves and we proceed.
Remember, we are on a mission and there is a job to be done. We will not rest easily with defeat. We have trained long and hard for this to fall through the cracks....well, that's a lie. But it sounds impressive and important.
Back on hood, over windshield, eventually on roof. A horn honks, a dog barks, a porch light flashes on – then off. Shannon’s demands of quickening the pace are muffled by the looming thunder. We look around cautiously. During that midnight hour, all is quiet except for the hissing of spinning wheels on wet pavement. Our breaths are quick and fast. Deep breath in and out. Mission accomplished!
The open trunk of my car dictates the use of side streets. We press our lips to the aluminum rims of the coca-cola cans. Our sweaty palms greet each other in a celebratory high five. We discuss where in her room the green and white Shannon Boulevard sign we just unhinged from the neighborhood street will find it’s refuge; above the trendy Mickey Mouse push button phone or next to the Jake Ryan, Sixteen Candles heartthrob movie poster.
Monday, August 15, 2011
hmmm
Wondering if i am in need of changing my blog title. These experiential days are not necessarily about the life of an Elocutionist. In 5 months, my life has been lifted. God took my by the scruff of my neck and placed me in a role that I can not deny nor ever fathomed. It is emotionally exhaustive, drains me daily, leaves me without fuel to continue at times - but allows me to endure in rhythmic progress. I am able to take care of my family, their activities, and even make a meal from time to time.
It has been 5 months since the passing of David. I feel I am taking on the role of different people - absent people that are no longer in her world. people who actively with complete conscious decided that it was just too hard to be a friend. But I want to be there. She is moving forward, as hard as it is, but she is moving forward.
Am i finding my own balance? not quite yet. I know I will.
Do i want to be here? i *do* want to. more importantly, I am being called to be there.
Has it changed me? More than I thought it would.
Not sure this is appropriate for a blog post - but posting anyway
Written tonight
5 months (August 16, 2011)
It’s been 5 months and you wonder, who really are you without David. Who *are* you? And do you really matter? If it wasn’t for the kids, would you feel that your life was completed?
You relive March 16 over and over again. Trying to fit it all together and answer those what ifs that keep you awake at night. Your life is riddled with questions and rarely do you find peace in the answers.
You are finding that the ebb and flow of grief has a pattern…sometime predictable, but often it storms in out of nowhere, arriving without warning; knocking you off your temporary standing that brought relative comfort.
It has been 5 months and you are realizing that the months can continue to clock on through, and it really doesn’t matter, does it? The loss of David has not eased since that evening. Coping has changed and shifted, but not the feelings. They never will.
You heard rumors and people talking and telling you that with time, things will get easier. You never put hope in this, but there was a potential that was alluring ,at least. But, in 5 months, things have not gotten easier.
You are a stranger in a crowded room. It's Hi how are you and talk, talk, talk but you’re not there. You want to leave because you feel so alone. You used to look for understanding. You used to look for a ‘place’ that didn’t drown you or pull you under. Now, you have given up on expectations.
It’s been 5 months. What is that supposed to look like? Funny, it doesn’t feel much different than last month or the month before that
Who will you be in month 6 or in month 7? Who will you be without David. A reinventing is needed; but this is baffling to think about. Why?
You have a desire to live – if not for you then for your children, but life continues in a fog. You are impressed that you actually get your pants on with the zipper in the front! This is 5 months in. Is any of this going to get better? Your friend, Katie, screams it out as loud as she can, “IS ANY OF THIS GOING TO GET BETTER?”
153 Days tomorrow (according to my calculations)
How often do you even replay March 15th in your mind? Did you have time with your David that evening?
5 months and you have seen the smallness and the pettiness of some people that you never even gave a second thought about. Grief has changed you. Life without David has changed you and you are forcing yourself to live, to face, to continue. One breath, one step, one more prayer.
How can people tell you to look ahead and plan ahead when the outlook is desolate, lonely, dark and unwelcoming. Why would people say those things?
You stumble. How are you to walk and continue when the person who supported you in those steps is now no longer?
5 months:
Can you make it through? YES
WILL you make it through? YES
Will you become stronger? YES
Will you begin to discover yourself in all this? YES
Will you see your friend, Katie, more frequently? YES!
Will you substitute your grief with online late night shopping? Oh, Lord help us if you do!
Will you find the necessary TIME for JOY to spend some time alone? (not in your room) YES!
Will your appetite return? YES
Will your new love for soy mochas wane? NO (I had to put in a no, somewhere…can’t be all color and sparkle)
Will you continue to find daily strength in scripture? YES
Will you be able to conquer this? I HOPE SO….
Love forever
Katie
It has been 5 months since the passing of David. I feel I am taking on the role of different people - absent people that are no longer in her world. people who actively with complete conscious decided that it was just too hard to be a friend. But I want to be there. She is moving forward, as hard as it is, but she is moving forward.
Am i finding my own balance? not quite yet. I know I will.
Do i want to be here? i *do* want to. more importantly, I am being called to be there.
Has it changed me? More than I thought it would.
Not sure this is appropriate for a blog post - but posting anyway
Written tonight
5 months (August 16, 2011)
It’s been 5 months and you wonder, who really are you without David. Who *are* you? And do you really matter? If it wasn’t for the kids, would you feel that your life was completed?
You relive March 16 over and over again. Trying to fit it all together and answer those what ifs that keep you awake at night. Your life is riddled with questions and rarely do you find peace in the answers.
You are finding that the ebb and flow of grief has a pattern…sometime predictable, but often it storms in out of nowhere, arriving without warning; knocking you off your temporary standing that brought relative comfort.
It has been 5 months and you are realizing that the months can continue to clock on through, and it really doesn’t matter, does it? The loss of David has not eased since that evening. Coping has changed and shifted, but not the feelings. They never will.
You heard rumors and people talking and telling you that with time, things will get easier. You never put hope in this, but there was a potential that was alluring ,at least. But, in 5 months, things have not gotten easier.
You are a stranger in a crowded room. It's Hi how are you and talk, talk, talk but you’re not there. You want to leave because you feel so alone. You used to look for understanding. You used to look for a ‘place’ that didn’t drown you or pull you under. Now, you have given up on expectations.
It’s been 5 months. What is that supposed to look like? Funny, it doesn’t feel much different than last month or the month before that
Who will you be in month 6 or in month 7? Who will you be without David. A reinventing is needed; but this is baffling to think about. Why?
You have a desire to live – if not for you then for your children, but life continues in a fog. You are impressed that you actually get your pants on with the zipper in the front! This is 5 months in. Is any of this going to get better? Your friend, Katie, screams it out as loud as she can, “IS ANY OF THIS GOING TO GET BETTER?”
153 Days tomorrow (according to my calculations)
How often do you even replay March 15th in your mind? Did you have time with your David that evening?
5 months and you have seen the smallness and the pettiness of some people that you never even gave a second thought about. Grief has changed you. Life without David has changed you and you are forcing yourself to live, to face, to continue. One breath, one step, one more prayer.
How can people tell you to look ahead and plan ahead when the outlook is desolate, lonely, dark and unwelcoming. Why would people say those things?
You stumble. How are you to walk and continue when the person who supported you in those steps is now no longer?
5 months:
Can you make it through? YES
WILL you make it through? YES
Will you become stronger? YES
Will you begin to discover yourself in all this? YES
Will you see your friend, Katie, more frequently? YES!
Will you substitute your grief with online late night shopping? Oh, Lord help us if you do!
Will you find the necessary TIME for JOY to spend some time alone? (not in your room) YES!
Will your appetite return? YES
Will your new love for soy mochas wane? NO (I had to put in a no, somewhere…can’t be all color and sparkle)
Will you continue to find daily strength in scripture? YES
Will you be able to conquer this? I HOPE SO….
Love forever
Katie
Saturday, July 30, 2011
It is done
7 days - one bathroom. Tackled and completed. Tomorrow early morning, we leave on vacation. It is 9pm and i have yet to think about packing.
Here are a couple of pics.
BEFORE - with toilet and sink already ripped out
Demo was fun. The clean up was not so much. I went out and bought a couple of masks to wear.
Here are a couple of pics.
BEFORE - with toilet and sink already ripped out
Demo was fun. The clean up was not so much. I went out and bought a couple of masks to wear.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Bathroom Redoux
Again, simply noting a timeline of events - for one day I will forget this ever happened. This blog will help me pass the time when i am old and feeble.
Subject: Remodeling a Friend's Bathroom (Saturday, June 23 - Saturday, June 30)
How I got here: A fund raiser and a new bathroom has always been my goal. Somehow i got sidetracked into redoing the inside of the house as well...not on my first priority.
A husband passed away in his family bathroom 4 months ago. This room had to be changed. The entire visual had to be altered. Family members still need to exist and live in the home. it HAD to change. 3 1/2 months ago, I contacted our local Home Depot, I met with them, I invited them into the home, I met with them again and finally, my friend and I went to the store front and picked out all the new materials that the store was going to donate. We remodeled an entire bathroom within a 10 minute visit. It had to be quick, easy, and unremarkable...and it was.
A month ago, i begin to seek out contractors, plumbers, sheet rockers, anyone and everyone who would be willing to lend a hand. No one. Some people doubted the authenticity of my story; but most simply didn't respond. I began to seek out the wealthiest of the contractors....the ones who do large lake homes. Could they find it within them to concentrate a small amount of time on a tiny bathroom - making a significant impact. Clearly, money was not an issue. These companies could easily afford this. Again, no one....but one. "Katie, we will be very happy to help your friend. tell us when and where to meet and we can discuss the details."
I was happy, elated, gitty with excitement that things were falling into place.
The family was to be gone the last week of July. Perfect timing to get in there and get it done. "By the way, we will have to charge for our labor to get it done for you." I met with them anyway. Thinking, once they see the bathroom, once they hear me out on where this family stands, once they feel that beginning desire of philanthropy -they will accept it. I met with the president of the company. He saw the bathroom but was unimpressed. We went ahead and scheduled a visit with the sheet rocker and plumber. Upon introducing myself, i was surprised that neither knew anything about this family. They were simply there to bid out a paying job. I was as accommodating as possible. Showing this man how meaningful this experience would be to his company. I drove downtown, delivered the specs he requested - giving my time, just as he will give back to this family.
The bids came back with padded amounts from the president of the company. He was going to squeeze out my last penny.
I could afford the sheet rocker, but not the plumber. I got back on the phone. With extended family help, i found one who knows the family, he is donating all his time and he is taking off the week that is needed.
Today, I met with Matt from Home Depot. he drove to the family home, truck loaded up with what it will take to put back together a bathroom. We piled everything into the family's dining room (they leave early tomorrow morning) and I went home - knowing i will be back, bright and early in the morning.
This afternoon, i sat on my couch, logged onto YouTube and watched, "How to take bathroom tile off" "How to break up a cast iron tub." I then went into the garage, took a recycling bin and loaded it with all my materials: hammer, sledge hammer, crow bar, safety goggles, tarp, screw drivers, dust pan, etc, etc.
Saturday Morning: A friend, the plumber and I will convene and begin demolition. Monday, the plumber will do his stuff. Tuesday, the sheet rocker will do his stuff. Thursday and Friday, i will be back in the my friend to paint, lay floor, put in light fixtures, towel bars, etc.
A bathroom redo --- I have no idea......It will be really fun to see how this turns out.
Subject: Remodeling a Friend's Bathroom (Saturday, June 23 - Saturday, June 30)
How I got here: A fund raiser and a new bathroom has always been my goal. Somehow i got sidetracked into redoing the inside of the house as well...not on my first priority.
A husband passed away in his family bathroom 4 months ago. This room had to be changed. The entire visual had to be altered. Family members still need to exist and live in the home. it HAD to change. 3 1/2 months ago, I contacted our local Home Depot, I met with them, I invited them into the home, I met with them again and finally, my friend and I went to the store front and picked out all the new materials that the store was going to donate. We remodeled an entire bathroom within a 10 minute visit. It had to be quick, easy, and unremarkable...and it was.
A month ago, i begin to seek out contractors, plumbers, sheet rockers, anyone and everyone who would be willing to lend a hand. No one. Some people doubted the authenticity of my story; but most simply didn't respond. I began to seek out the wealthiest of the contractors....the ones who do large lake homes. Could they find it within them to concentrate a small amount of time on a tiny bathroom - making a significant impact. Clearly, money was not an issue. These companies could easily afford this. Again, no one....but one. "Katie, we will be very happy to help your friend. tell us when and where to meet and we can discuss the details."
I was happy, elated, gitty with excitement that things were falling into place.
The family was to be gone the last week of July. Perfect timing to get in there and get it done. "By the way, we will have to charge for our labor to get it done for you." I met with them anyway. Thinking, once they see the bathroom, once they hear me out on where this family stands, once they feel that beginning desire of philanthropy -they will accept it. I met with the president of the company. He saw the bathroom but was unimpressed. We went ahead and scheduled a visit with the sheet rocker and plumber. Upon introducing myself, i was surprised that neither knew anything about this family. They were simply there to bid out a paying job. I was as accommodating as possible. Showing this man how meaningful this experience would be to his company. I drove downtown, delivered the specs he requested - giving my time, just as he will give back to this family.
The bids came back with padded amounts from the president of the company. He was going to squeeze out my last penny.
I could afford the sheet rocker, but not the plumber. I got back on the phone. With extended family help, i found one who knows the family, he is donating all his time and he is taking off the week that is needed.
Today, I met with Matt from Home Depot. he drove to the family home, truck loaded up with what it will take to put back together a bathroom. We piled everything into the family's dining room (they leave early tomorrow morning) and I went home - knowing i will be back, bright and early in the morning.
This afternoon, i sat on my couch, logged onto YouTube and watched, "How to take bathroom tile off" "How to break up a cast iron tub." I then went into the garage, took a recycling bin and loaded it with all my materials: hammer, sledge hammer, crow bar, safety goggles, tarp, screw drivers, dust pan, etc, etc.
Saturday Morning: A friend, the plumber and I will convene and begin demolition. Monday, the plumber will do his stuff. Tuesday, the sheet rocker will do his stuff. Thursday and Friday, i will be back in the my friend to paint, lay floor, put in light fixtures, towel bars, etc.
A bathroom redo --- I have no idea......It will be really fun to see how this turns out.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
To My Husband
A chance meeting
an evening dance
became a smile
became a conversation
became a touch.
became a kiss
became a knowing
became a destiny
became a road
And now
everything I always wanted
everything
I always needed
everything
I will always love
is right here
in one incredible man.
Love, Katie
an evening dance
became a smile
became a conversation
became a touch.
became a kiss
became a knowing
became a destiny
became a road
And now
everything I always wanted
everything
I always needed
everything
I will always love
is right here
in one incredible man.
Love, Katie
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
92
It has been 92 days.
In 92 days, she has celebrated 2 birthdays, acknowledged another, made it through an anniversary, a Mother's Day, a hospitalization of her mother, a hospitalization of her father, a death of a family pet, a dance recital, lead a very large conference, a surgery for her father, a family retreat and in 5 days, she will make it through the first Father's Day since the passing of her husband; 92 days ago.
Her closest friends are telling her she has to move on. She has to keep going. They advise her to look at the 'good things.' They do not mention her husband’s name nor acknowledge memories. In 92 days, she has been the solid foundation for her children's grief. In the safeness of their home, they grieve openly and at the end of the day, they unwind after keeping their hearts in control so that others do not remark that daddy is in a better place or to say that children are resilient, or to keep on celebrating the new normal.
In 92 days, she has bagged up all her husband's clothing, gave away the bed they once shared, made a room for herself and has dwindled her husband's life into 7 storage bins. But, they tell her to move on and accept that he is gone.
Each of these 92 days, she has found reason to praise and be thankful. She has made it through every heart wrenching detail on her own. Each of these 92 days, she has proven to her children that yes, they can be resilient, but that does not mean that daddy is forgotten, they are able to all grieve together and still praise God together, and she is still mom and is required to be solid. But they tell her to move on and they show her in ways of abandonment, excusing, redirecting and/or ignoring.
In these past few days, she has questioned herself - the woman who is holding the hands and spirits of her children, she questions if perhaps they are right. Is she supposed to move on, seek a new normal, pack up the 7 tubs, close the door and be done? Is it healthy for her and her children to stifle the memories, the moments, the montage of experience in front of family and friends? Is this what grief is about - after 92 days?
92 days will soon turn into 184 days, 364 days, 728 days, 1456 days and so on. Each of those days, she will continue to build, to exist in this new life, to strengthen the resolve of her children, and to remember the father and the husband that was a part and is a part of them. In 92 days, her husband’s life has been a viable piece to each of them. He is alive to them in so many ways.
People could have learned a great deal from her in these past 92 days.
".....but seeing those seven tubs downstairs. Seven tubs. A man's life reduced to seven plastic tubs. David's life. That is all there is left. All that is here. I know that David's life meant so much more - he touched so many people, reached into their lives, came to where they were at, valued them, comforted them, taught them, lifted them up, led them into God's presence, worshipped God with them. He impacted so many people. I don't want Him to be forgotten. I don't want it come down to seven tubs. My heart cries out. How can a man that great - who touched so many - start to be forgotten so quickly. "
In 92 days, she has celebrated 2 birthdays, acknowledged another, made it through an anniversary, a Mother's Day, a hospitalization of her mother, a hospitalization of her father, a death of a family pet, a dance recital, lead a very large conference, a surgery for her father, a family retreat and in 5 days, she will make it through the first Father's Day since the passing of her husband; 92 days ago.
Her closest friends are telling her she has to move on. She has to keep going. They advise her to look at the 'good things.' They do not mention her husband’s name nor acknowledge memories. In 92 days, she has been the solid foundation for her children's grief. In the safeness of their home, they grieve openly and at the end of the day, they unwind after keeping their hearts in control so that others do not remark that daddy is in a better place or to say that children are resilient, or to keep on celebrating the new normal.
In 92 days, she has bagged up all her husband's clothing, gave away the bed they once shared, made a room for herself and has dwindled her husband's life into 7 storage bins. But, they tell her to move on and accept that he is gone.
Each of these 92 days, she has found reason to praise and be thankful. She has made it through every heart wrenching detail on her own. Each of these 92 days, she has proven to her children that yes, they can be resilient, but that does not mean that daddy is forgotten, they are able to all grieve together and still praise God together, and she is still mom and is required to be solid. But they tell her to move on and they show her in ways of abandonment, excusing, redirecting and/or ignoring.
In these past few days, she has questioned herself - the woman who is holding the hands and spirits of her children, she questions if perhaps they are right. Is she supposed to move on, seek a new normal, pack up the 7 tubs, close the door and be done? Is it healthy for her and her children to stifle the memories, the moments, the montage of experience in front of family and friends? Is this what grief is about - after 92 days?
92 days will soon turn into 184 days, 364 days, 728 days, 1456 days and so on. Each of those days, she will continue to build, to exist in this new life, to strengthen the resolve of her children, and to remember the father and the husband that was a part and is a part of them. In 92 days, her husband’s life has been a viable piece to each of them. He is alive to them in so many ways.
People could have learned a great deal from her in these past 92 days.
".....but seeing those seven tubs downstairs. Seven tubs. A man's life reduced to seven plastic tubs. David's life. That is all there is left. All that is here. I know that David's life meant so much more - he touched so many people, reached into their lives, came to where they were at, valued them, comforted them, taught them, lifted them up, led them into God's presence, worshipped God with them. He impacted so many people. I don't want Him to be forgotten. I don't want it come down to seven tubs. My heart cries out. How can a man that great - who touched so many - start to be forgotten so quickly. "
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Holding on Tightly
I have come to this conclusion - I am clinging to something that is slipping through my fingers. I have not figured this out until now - on the 14 year of my child's birth. I am not controlling, I am holding. It is no doubt that I have struggled hard with this child; but during these past summer weeks, I have discovered that it takes much energy to even be pleasant with him. Conversation comes out as orders or directions or advisement rather than something surrounded by love and respect. Our confused paths of interpretation often lead to embattled conclusion.
This morning, as he is still asleep, i begin to think back and read past postings and journal entries from this yearly acknowledgement. The 'innocence' of those postings are long gone and I know I am clinging hard to the spec of time I have left. I laugh thinking that conversations are still surrounded on whether he has on matching socks, if he has said his please and thank yous, if his shirt is cleaned or not --but daily, my words come out wrong-i need to work on this. Added to these topics are conversations on character, work ethic, bearing responsibility, being respectful to others, knowing who you are, giving of yourself, helping, volunteering, loving. Our twisted discussions are on intuitiveness, knowing a path, pride, happiness within yourself and many others -- but they are all me, his mom, preparing him to walk out that door. So, it comes out wrong - there is an edginess to my tone but now realizing that I am simply crying on the inside that this baby of mine is now old enough to know and I am holding on tightly; when truth be told, i need to let go~!
This morning, as he is still asleep, i begin to think back and read past postings and journal entries from this yearly acknowledgement. The 'innocence' of those postings are long gone and I know I am clinging hard to the spec of time I have left. I laugh thinking that conversations are still surrounded on whether he has on matching socks, if he has said his please and thank yous, if his shirt is cleaned or not --but daily, my words come out wrong-i need to work on this. Added to these topics are conversations on character, work ethic, bearing responsibility, being respectful to others, knowing who you are, giving of yourself, helping, volunteering, loving. Our twisted discussions are on intuitiveness, knowing a path, pride, happiness within yourself and many others -- but they are all me, his mom, preparing him to walk out that door. So, it comes out wrong - there is an edginess to my tone but now realizing that I am simply crying on the inside that this baby of mine is now old enough to know and I am holding on tightly; when truth be told, i need to let go~!
Saturday, June 11, 2011
The Road Less Traveled
This is an overly used title and for that matter, so it the phrase...I am having difficulty lately with titles, i suppose. I am also having incredible difficulty of navigating the road I am on. I am not sure whom to listen to, whom to advise, whom to walk away from, and whom to cut ties with. I have chosen this road, this is clear. I saw it and without even looking at the map ahead, I stepped on blindly and began my journey. I have written about this quite a few times, whether it be on my blog, in my journals or on napkins at coffee shops - laugh.
I have taken the Road Less Traveled and on this path, i have met with many faulty characters - characters in costume that believe they are able to walk the same walk. On the same road, there have been exemplary experiences, honored individuals, and confounding views. I have been educated along the way and have harnessed a knowledge that was not within sight before.
Today, I question the reason for these other 'players' I cross paths during this walk. Why are they there? Why do they show such hypocrisy when this road does not allow for such character? I know this does not all belong to me and I am never to say I am not at fault; but the blatancy of such acts has me questions their presence.
I simply need to get this in writing - that is all. To cast it to the wind and to be no more. But I have to be honest when I say I want to scream and shout, "Get off the road!"
I am not sure how this comes across. I am troubled. That is all. Troubled that there are people out there who jump out in this path i am taking and challenge me with great insincerity, blindness and hypocrisy.
I have taken the Road Less Traveled and on this path, i have met with many faulty characters - characters in costume that believe they are able to walk the same walk. On the same road, there have been exemplary experiences, honored individuals, and confounding views. I have been educated along the way and have harnessed a knowledge that was not within sight before.
Today, I question the reason for these other 'players' I cross paths during this walk. Why are they there? Why do they show such hypocrisy when this road does not allow for such character? I know this does not all belong to me and I am never to say I am not at fault; but the blatancy of such acts has me questions their presence.
I simply need to get this in writing - that is all. To cast it to the wind and to be no more. But I have to be honest when I say I want to scream and shout, "Get off the road!"
I am not sure how this comes across. I am troubled. That is all. Troubled that there are people out there who jump out in this path i am taking and challenge me with great insincerity, blindness and hypocrisy.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsiDukXIeVY
It Started.....
It started with a dance, an examination, an impression of bewilderment and it has risen from those beginnings into something adoring, cemented, breath taking, uncharted and completely guided by a Third Party.
It started with a phone call, an email, a thought, a mention of a name and it is now charged in connection that has been sparked by a mere moment.
It started in the dark and in the quiet of the evening when tears fell hard and never ceased to stop. It has now transformed the two of us and the light is prevalent, guiding our days with flashes of blessings and gratefulness.
It started with wonderment, mystery, and ambiguity and has transformed me.
It started with a song, a dance, a memory, a phone call, a desire to be, to hold, to cry, to follow....
It is......
It is something I am called to be
It is something powerful and effortless
It is something that has become everything to me
It is something that makes me sing, dance, proclaim, praise, search, shout, weep, and bow in grace.
I stop and i find stillness in this - in this ....which started from a dance.
It Started.....
It started with a dance, an examination, an impression of bewilderment and it has risen from those beginnings into something adoring, cemented, breath taking, uncharted and completely guided by a Third Party.
It started with a phone call, an email, a thought, a mention of a name and it is now charged in connection that has been sparked by a mere moment.
It started in the dark and in the quiet of the evening when tears fell hard and never ceased to stop. It has now transformed the two of us and the light is prevalent, guiding our days with flashes of blessings and gratefulness.
It started with wonderment, mystery, and ambiguity and has transformed me.
It started with a song, a dance, a memory, a phone call, a desire to be, to hold, to cry, to follow....
It is......
It is something I am called to be
It is something powerful and effortless
It is something that has become everything to me
It is something that makes me sing, dance, proclaim, praise, search, shout, weep, and bow in grace.
I stop and i find stillness in this - in this ....which started from a dance.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Change in Tide
It's a lame title, i know --- but i am finding that the phrase, "Older and Wiser" holds much merit. I am getting older - i feel it in every capacity and my dialogue reflects that of which i used to make fun. Please indulge in this somewhat LONG train of thought in this post this evening.
Older and Wiser
1. In my 30s, i used to get really upset that my husband did not treat me like we were dating. I would get really upset that he no longer sent me love notes or called me on the phone to just 'talk.' ...... John and I rarely fight any more. I am no longer needing to be 'understood.' I am just not that 'complex' anymore. I have 'Wised Up.'
2. In conversation with complete strangers, we compare aging signs. "I used to be able to see clearly and read the numbers on my cell phone!" "Oh, that kind of food gives me heartburn." "If you just use a bit of lemon juice, those aging spots will fade away." "I use _____ lotion, It's great for 'Mature' skin." WHO TALKS LIKE THIS? Old people, that's who. I am older and i now find myself in these conversations.
3. My tolerance (intolerance) is more evident now. I am polite to the core, but because I am wiser now, i do not have time for idle conversation or menial tasks.
4. Friendships: I have always kept few but close friends. I never have surrounded myself with crowds of people and I thrived on getting to know people one on one rather than in a group culture. I am beginning to really take assessment of those close to me and as i grow, making adjustments to where I can simply be content. I no longer feel it necessary to put in the work in a relationship if it is a means to an end. I am becoming judgemental in this area but have also experienced a revelation in my 'older years.' This is not to say that I am willing to cast all those aside; but a change and direction is evident and i am honoring the course.
5. Marriage: Even though we are years away, I am visualizing the "Empty Nest" days. I am envisioning some very quiet days ahead with my husband of 10 words a day and he is envisioning road trips in his convertible Porsche.
6. Significance: I am reaching the age where you look back and ask, "Was my life significant?" There *should* be at least 5 items that pop into your brain automatically to help you feel settled. I think I can say that I am there -- although, I look into the coming years and know that there is much life ahead of me and even more significant times are coming.
7. Adaptation: Although a couple numbers back, i stated that my tolerance was evident. I think what is more evident is my adaptation. I am growing and adapting and have a willingness to learn more than ever before. This is something that is remarkable to me. I want to know as much as I can -- I want to fill this aging brain with information that will add to my character and conversation. It is hard to not *see* this in my maturing children. They are not there yet. Knowledge to them is not treasured. It is a chore and a responsibility. There is forgiveness simply because they are not yet older and wiser.
8. Money: Money's importance is on the future. The here and now is available, but the concentration is on the years to come.
9. to be filled as i think of more -- but see, it is 11pm at the moment and this aging person must say good night for the evening. Gone are the days of just starting the evening at 11pm. Now sentences like, "Are you going to stay up much longer?" and "I'll see you in bed....g'night" are the standard.
Quotes that assist me in this uncharted terrain:
I do not think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday.
Abraham Lincoln
Losing an illusion makes you wiser than finding a truth. Ludwig Borne
Thanks for listening.
Older and Wiser
1. In my 30s, i used to get really upset that my husband did not treat me like we were dating. I would get really upset that he no longer sent me love notes or called me on the phone to just 'talk.' ...... John and I rarely fight any more. I am no longer needing to be 'understood.' I am just not that 'complex' anymore. I have 'Wised Up.'
2. In conversation with complete strangers, we compare aging signs. "I used to be able to see clearly and read the numbers on my cell phone!" "Oh, that kind of food gives me heartburn." "If you just use a bit of lemon juice, those aging spots will fade away." "I use _____ lotion, It's great for 'Mature' skin." WHO TALKS LIKE THIS? Old people, that's who. I am older and i now find myself in these conversations.
3. My tolerance (intolerance) is more evident now. I am polite to the core, but because I am wiser now, i do not have time for idle conversation or menial tasks.
4. Friendships: I have always kept few but close friends. I never have surrounded myself with crowds of people and I thrived on getting to know people one on one rather than in a group culture. I am beginning to really take assessment of those close to me and as i grow, making adjustments to where I can simply be content. I no longer feel it necessary to put in the work in a relationship if it is a means to an end. I am becoming judgemental in this area but have also experienced a revelation in my 'older years.' This is not to say that I am willing to cast all those aside; but a change and direction is evident and i am honoring the course.
5. Marriage: Even though we are years away, I am visualizing the "Empty Nest" days. I am envisioning some very quiet days ahead with my husband of 10 words a day and he is envisioning road trips in his convertible Porsche.
6. Significance: I am reaching the age where you look back and ask, "Was my life significant?" There *should* be at least 5 items that pop into your brain automatically to help you feel settled. I think I can say that I am there -- although, I look into the coming years and know that there is much life ahead of me and even more significant times are coming.
7. Adaptation: Although a couple numbers back, i stated that my tolerance was evident. I think what is more evident is my adaptation. I am growing and adapting and have a willingness to learn more than ever before. This is something that is remarkable to me. I want to know as much as I can -- I want to fill this aging brain with information that will add to my character and conversation. It is hard to not *see* this in my maturing children. They are not there yet. Knowledge to them is not treasured. It is a chore and a responsibility. There is forgiveness simply because they are not yet older and wiser.
8. Money: Money's importance is on the future. The here and now is available, but the concentration is on the years to come.
9. to be filled as i think of more -- but see, it is 11pm at the moment and this aging person must say good night for the evening. Gone are the days of just starting the evening at 11pm. Now sentences like, "Are you going to stay up much longer?" and "I'll see you in bed....g'night" are the standard.
Quotes that assist me in this uncharted terrain:
I do not think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday.
Abraham Lincoln
Losing an illusion makes you wiser than finding a truth. Ludwig Borne
Thanks for listening.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
We Did It
This was an email i sent out to a very small core of volunteers who worked tirelessly on a house for the past 6 days. It was an undertaking. I have survived on 4-5 hours of sleep a night with long physical days, but, tonight, I ate dinner with my children, I played hide and go seek and now, I am going to take a well deserved shower.
5:23pm and I sit on my couch, knowing that I will get a restful sleep tonight, have dinner with my family, and get up in the morning, go to church and praise God for the astonishing and phenomenal journey He laid out before us this past week. Some of us survived on Ibuprofen, others went to a chiropractor, others took the day off, one is sick in bed, some cracked open a beer or poured out a glass of wine to get through the hours that each of us significantly gave to pave the way within this new journey of Joy and her children.
WE DID IT!
We painted, we scrubbed, we tore up, we breathed in questionable contents, and we prayed. We moved, we hauled, we lifted, we got down on our hands and knees, we stretched, we reached and we prayed. We organized, we designed, we shopped, we cried, we laughed, a few of us danced, we made executive decisions and we prayed. Our focus was never lost or compromised and this clearly kept the beat to our momentum.
WE DID IT!!
I toast all of you! I thank you for…. I thank you for allowing me to come into your life, a stranger at first, and let me facilitate our talents as a core group.
WE DID IT!
We can be proud tonight. We can be grateful for God’s ultimate love for his daughter, Joy. We can cry as we think of them walking through that doorway (NEW doorway, might I add…thank you Matt from Home Depot) and know that they must continue…continue within the newness of the other. Continue in building and relying on the one who stands by them and continue in their unshaken and fervent strength in God. But, we can rejoice as we know that we have lifted them up and have placed each and every one of them deep in our heart and they know that. We can be happy because……
WE DID IT.
My love goes out to you!
Thank you,
Katie
5:23pm and I sit on my couch, knowing that I will get a restful sleep tonight, have dinner with my family, and get up in the morning, go to church and praise God for the astonishing and phenomenal journey He laid out before us this past week. Some of us survived on Ibuprofen, others went to a chiropractor, others took the day off, one is sick in bed, some cracked open a beer or poured out a glass of wine to get through the hours that each of us significantly gave to pave the way within this new journey of Joy and her children.
WE DID IT!
We painted, we scrubbed, we tore up, we breathed in questionable contents, and we prayed. We moved, we hauled, we lifted, we got down on our hands and knees, we stretched, we reached and we prayed. We organized, we designed, we shopped, we cried, we laughed, a few of us danced, we made executive decisions and we prayed. Our focus was never lost or compromised and this clearly kept the beat to our momentum.
WE DID IT!!
I toast all of you! I thank you for…. I thank you for allowing me to come into your life, a stranger at first, and let me facilitate our talents as a core group.
WE DID IT!
We can be proud tonight. We can be grateful for God’s ultimate love for his daughter, Joy. We can cry as we think of them walking through that doorway (NEW doorway, might I add…thank you Matt from Home Depot) and know that they must continue…continue within the newness of the other. Continue in building and relying on the one who stands by them and continue in their unshaken and fervent strength in God. But, we can rejoice as we know that we have lifted them up and have placed each and every one of them deep in our heart and they know that. We can be happy because……
WE DID IT.
My love goes out to you!
Thank you,
Katie
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Letter to Neighbors
The week is almost over. Tomorrow, Friday is our last full day. Is it presently 12:59am and I came home from Joy's less than an hour ago. Tomorrow, I have secured a babysitter for both Sidney and Lucy in the morning, as there will be many trucks coming in and out with scheduled deliveries. It will be exciting. Before I enter the home in the morning, I will be delivering these letters door to door in the neighborhood.
Dear Neighbors,
My name is Katie Avenson and I wanted to send you this note today to give you a brief update on the frenetic activity that has taken place on your home road.
Joy and her children have been spending a week in Wisconsin Dells, as we were able to secure a donated Time Share for them. It has been the movement of one small group of people to get her home in order: clean, organize, and put things in a place in such a way that upon her return home, she is able to continue on this new journey with her children within an uplifted environment.
Update on house:
1. Wood floors have been brought back to life in living room and main floor bedrooms. Jared Rempel - Divine Hardwood Floors
2. Painting of rooms
3. Light landscaping
4. Cleaning
5. Organizing
Our intention during this week is to give Joy and her children a place to begin anew, and we have kept communication to a minimum so as to not overwhelm the family with the happenings inside their home.
I respectfully ask two things of you as her close neighbors:
1. We are choosing not to inform Joy of all the activity in her home or any of the outside activity. She knows we are here and has an outline of what we are doing, but she has chosen not to think about the process and undertaking of it all. She is aware that we were in need of a dumpster, but we would like to not remind her. It has been a trusting decision of hers to accept this offer of her closest friends.
2. If any of you are close enough to Joy to offer your time when she is in need, I know she would appreciate it. I am thinking about times when there might be minor plumbing issues, or a small household repair or if she is in need of something lifted or moved; things that David might have been capable of doing as her husband. If so, please feel comfortable in letting her know.
I wanted to say thank you for allowing us to take up residence on your street. I know it was an inconvenience at times and perhaps a little noisy. Joy comes home Saturday, sometime in the late afternoon. Thank you and it was a pleasure being a part of Azure Road for this past week.
Respectfully,
Katie Avenson
Kavenson@comcast.net is my email if you have any questions. I am the one in the black VW minivan.
Dear Neighbors,
My name is Katie Avenson and I wanted to send you this note today to give you a brief update on the frenetic activity that has taken place on your home road.
Joy and her children have been spending a week in Wisconsin Dells, as we were able to secure a donated Time Share for them. It has been the movement of one small group of people to get her home in order: clean, organize, and put things in a place in such a way that upon her return home, she is able to continue on this new journey with her children within an uplifted environment.
Update on house:
1. Wood floors have been brought back to life in living room and main floor bedrooms. Jared Rempel - Divine Hardwood Floors
2. Painting of rooms
3. Light landscaping
4. Cleaning
5. Organizing
Our intention during this week is to give Joy and her children a place to begin anew, and we have kept communication to a minimum so as to not overwhelm the family with the happenings inside their home.
I respectfully ask two things of you as her close neighbors:
1. We are choosing not to inform Joy of all the activity in her home or any of the outside activity. She knows we are here and has an outline of what we are doing, but she has chosen not to think about the process and undertaking of it all. She is aware that we were in need of a dumpster, but we would like to not remind her. It has been a trusting decision of hers to accept this offer of her closest friends.
2. If any of you are close enough to Joy to offer your time when she is in need, I know she would appreciate it. I am thinking about times when there might be minor plumbing issues, or a small household repair or if she is in need of something lifted or moved; things that David might have been capable of doing as her husband. If so, please feel comfortable in letting her know.
I wanted to say thank you for allowing us to take up residence on your street. I know it was an inconvenience at times and perhaps a little noisy. Joy comes home Saturday, sometime in the late afternoon. Thank you and it was a pleasure being a part of Azure Road for this past week.
Respectfully,
Katie Avenson
Kavenson@comcast.net is my email if you have any questions. I am the one in the black VW minivan.
Monday, May 23, 2011
I Left My Hard Hat at Home
I am not a General Contractor. I never went to school to become one, nor did I ever apprentice to be one. But, I am finding that I am presently wearing the hat of one. I am, for all intense and purposes, a general contractor.
Today:
Get the kids out of bed. Get the groggy eyed teen out the door with smoothie in hand, walk the middle one to the bus stop and then the phone calls begin. First, I speak with Joy. She is trying to hold it together while she brings her dog to the kennel for the week. Her 4 children are packed and they are off to a donated week away at Wisconsin Dells Water Park. Significant, as this marks the absolute beginning of time alone as a family of 5. This is the embarking of a new perspective. It also signifies the end to their current living situation - she has been sleeping on an air mattress since the day of her husband's death, in her living room.
Next, her mother calls me to ask me how her daughter is doing. Joy is in a very dark place right now, and presently, she is speaking to no one.
The phone rings again and it is Slumberland Furniture, telling me that the shipment of new furniture is in the store (couch, 2 beds, a mattress and the chair will be arriving later)
Twelve o'clock, I put the baby down, and receive a text that Joy is now out of her home. I call a friend, tell her the news. I email another, and i text a third. Joy is out of the house.
I get to the house, open it up and take a look around. Our work is cut out for us. Tomorrow, I have a man coming in to donate his time and services to redo all the wood flooring in 4 rooms - but first, the carpet must be taken up. Before the carpet can be taken up, the furniture, the laundry, the books, the toys, etc, must all be moved. Before anyone arrives, I get to work. One room is already cleared out as it *was* the boys room. They are now moved upstairs in where Joy's room used to be. She is taking over their room as her own- so i begin on the daughter's room, who has basically prepped it. Things to do or move: a dresser, a bed to take a part, mattresses to move, three book cases, and some left over stuffed animals. I begin to pull up the hallway carpet and the pad and dump it in the Bagster I brought over. I move the living room end tables, the lamps, the chair, the child's desk and the 'crew' begins to arrive. 3 ladies from Joy's church. We get the TV out, the console, the book cases and the couches. While one is pulling up the nails, staples and tack strip, two of us pull up the carpet in the living room along with the padding. In between that time, I am on the phone with others who are on their way over and Joy calls in to see how things are going. In the mean time, a friend and her husband show up. I have him installing shelving in the front closet for the family as well as looking at much of the electrical. I welcome them and set them to work.
Later in the afternoon, after I have already gone home to change a poopy diaper, "Mom, he just smells so horrible!" Give instructions to the teenager, who is now home and willing to babysit. I continue my phone calls with Slumberland and schedule a delivery date. The hard wood floor guy to discuss our prepping for tomorrow. An additional conversation on the logistics of tomorrow morning and what we still need to do. It is a long day. I am dirty and dusty and I have to go pick up my son from track and field. We rush home and I am quickly invited by my husband to come downtown and enjoy the baseball game. His department with two others are in a suite for the evening. I decide to go, but only after I set the baby down for the evening. My presence away today was evident in his small world and he was in need of Mommy time.
I am feeling overwhelmingly honored to be a part of this simple project. Tomorrow, the floors will be started. Curtains will be purchased. Walls will be painted. Cupboards will be organized. My time will be quick as I have promised Lucy a lunch out. My son has a track and field event in the early afternoon and my daughter has a soccer practice in the early evening. My son has a project that he will somehow be putting together with a friend in our home and my baby will come along for the ride.
But....this is all good!
Thanks for listening.
Today:
Get the kids out of bed. Get the groggy eyed teen out the door with smoothie in hand, walk the middle one to the bus stop and then the phone calls begin. First, I speak with Joy. She is trying to hold it together while she brings her dog to the kennel for the week. Her 4 children are packed and they are off to a donated week away at Wisconsin Dells Water Park. Significant, as this marks the absolute beginning of time alone as a family of 5. This is the embarking of a new perspective. It also signifies the end to their current living situation - she has been sleeping on an air mattress since the day of her husband's death, in her living room.
Next, her mother calls me to ask me how her daughter is doing. Joy is in a very dark place right now, and presently, she is speaking to no one.
The phone rings again and it is Slumberland Furniture, telling me that the shipment of new furniture is in the store (couch, 2 beds, a mattress and the chair will be arriving later)
Twelve o'clock, I put the baby down, and receive a text that Joy is now out of her home. I call a friend, tell her the news. I email another, and i text a third. Joy is out of the house.
I get to the house, open it up and take a look around. Our work is cut out for us. Tomorrow, I have a man coming in to donate his time and services to redo all the wood flooring in 4 rooms - but first, the carpet must be taken up. Before the carpet can be taken up, the furniture, the laundry, the books, the toys, etc, must all be moved. Before anyone arrives, I get to work. One room is already cleared out as it *was* the boys room. They are now moved upstairs in where Joy's room used to be. She is taking over their room as her own- so i begin on the daughter's room, who has basically prepped it. Things to do or move: a dresser, a bed to take a part, mattresses to move, three book cases, and some left over stuffed animals. I begin to pull up the hallway carpet and the pad and dump it in the Bagster I brought over. I move the living room end tables, the lamps, the chair, the child's desk and the 'crew' begins to arrive. 3 ladies from Joy's church. We get the TV out, the console, the book cases and the couches. While one is pulling up the nails, staples and tack strip, two of us pull up the carpet in the living room along with the padding. In between that time, I am on the phone with others who are on their way over and Joy calls in to see how things are going. In the mean time, a friend and her husband show up. I have him installing shelving in the front closet for the family as well as looking at much of the electrical. I welcome them and set them to work.
Later in the afternoon, after I have already gone home to change a poopy diaper, "Mom, he just smells so horrible!" Give instructions to the teenager, who is now home and willing to babysit. I continue my phone calls with Slumberland and schedule a delivery date. The hard wood floor guy to discuss our prepping for tomorrow. An additional conversation on the logistics of tomorrow morning and what we still need to do. It is a long day. I am dirty and dusty and I have to go pick up my son from track and field. We rush home and I am quickly invited by my husband to come downtown and enjoy the baseball game. His department with two others are in a suite for the evening. I decide to go, but only after I set the baby down for the evening. My presence away today was evident in his small world and he was in need of Mommy time.
I am feeling overwhelmingly honored to be a part of this simple project. Tomorrow, the floors will be started. Curtains will be purchased. Walls will be painted. Cupboards will be organized. My time will be quick as I have promised Lucy a lunch out. My son has a track and field event in the early afternoon and my daughter has a soccer practice in the early evening. My son has a project that he will somehow be putting together with a friend in our home and my baby will come along for the ride.
But....this is all good!
Thanks for listening.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
On Writing
I write. To release stress, I write. I leave the house, hide in a corner, or, case in point, I spend an evening downtown, bring my lap top and write. I forever visualize my scene in pictures and words; and often, I look down as if by aerial view. My experiences are often interpreted in writing and I am rarely without a journal. So, yesterday, I had the opportunity to take 24 hours of respite at Hotel Minneapolis. Walking in my downtown, I took in Mpls culture; the people, the shapes, sizes, the attitudes, and the dialogue; knowing all would find some placement in print.
Dinner:
Sitting outside at an Irish Pub, ordering my Amstel light and keeping my vision on the street people. Table to my side has twenty something girls who are asking the waiter how much each bottle of beer or glass of wine costs. When waiter leaves, one talks about her dad’s influence, another discusses college loans and another talks about her current internship. They are so fresh out of the water. I sip my beer and revel in the innocence.
Mom and daughter taking a moment to eat and talk. The 12 or so year old daughter is just adorable and even her, “Noooo, Mom, you wouldn’t” sounds cute. She is dressed up for her evening out with Mom. I am guessing a theater show is on the agenda after dinner.
I think of the young adults, embarking upon their evening out and reflect on my early years in Minnesota; newly married, rented house, barely an income to survive. We played a lot of cards, took naps, watched movies and rode our bikes around the lakes. Little did we know that we would eventually look back on the time with envy.
Last night, I stole a moment away from my present reality. A time to check in with myself to see what developed.
This morning, I sat in the Restaurant Max and had my morning buffet of sorted food. An older gentleman was behind me in line and we exchanged moderate pleasantries before returning to our seats. We sat across the room from the other and on my way out, I placed my hand on his shoulder and said, “Have a good day, Sir.” He replied, “Well, thank you for stopping and talking to me…say, can you sit for a second and join me for a cup of coffee?” Well, how could I refuse? For 20 minutes, the privilege was all mine. He is a writer, he is a widower of seven months and he was in town for his wife’s memorial service. They lived in San Antonio. I was lifted and wished I had sat with him sooner. But, he is now in my mind and heart and again, I write. I write about Dennis, the girls sitting next to me, my time, my reality, my existence.
I write......
Dinner:
Sitting outside at an Irish Pub, ordering my Amstel light and keeping my vision on the street people. Table to my side has twenty something girls who are asking the waiter how much each bottle of beer or glass of wine costs. When waiter leaves, one talks about her dad’s influence, another discusses college loans and another talks about her current internship. They are so fresh out of the water. I sip my beer and revel in the innocence.
Mom and daughter taking a moment to eat and talk. The 12 or so year old daughter is just adorable and even her, “Noooo, Mom, you wouldn’t” sounds cute. She is dressed up for her evening out with Mom. I am guessing a theater show is on the agenda after dinner.
I think of the young adults, embarking upon their evening out and reflect on my early years in Minnesota; newly married, rented house, barely an income to survive. We played a lot of cards, took naps, watched movies and rode our bikes around the lakes. Little did we know that we would eventually look back on the time with envy.
Last night, I stole a moment away from my present reality. A time to check in with myself to see what developed.
I write......
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)