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
Friday, December 23, 2011
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
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