Thursday evening

Well, here it is a week later and we finally got the new hot water heater.  I've been praying for days, that it'd be an easy (and painless) installation.  It was.  My husband and youngest son went to the hardware store this morning and got it.  And yesterday they'd man-handled the old one out of the attic, down the pull-down stairs and out on street.  The sanitation department here is wonderful about picking up just about anything you put on the street.  Didn't have to wait for them, though, since someone else got it before dark.

A bath later will be WONDERFUL.

Got out a bit by myself this afternoon, which was way overdue.  Got some library books and went to the library bookstore too.  Found some Faulkners I didn't have and one treasure, a Charlotte Bronte dated around 1897.  The book is called The Professor and includes Emma and some poetry. Beautiful book.  Three dollars, which you can't beat.

* * *

Going to have a quiet day tomorrow.  Have been, as they say, all sixes and sevens, this week.  Can't account for it.  Reading, yes.

Saturday holds middle daughter's seventeenth birthday, which she wants to be Star Wars themed, and it'll be a fun day.  Unfortunately, an old friend of the family, my mom's next door neighbor died yesterday.  I'll likely go to his funeral on Saturday afternoon.  We took Mom her groceries today, and I was able to see the children of the neighbor. We're about the same age, grew up together and hadn't seen one another in about forty years. Sweet to be called by my nickname (Missy) by folks who knew me ages ago. Very comforting, for some reason.

Anyway, we'll still have a birthday, with a pause in the middle.  Had planned on baking her pies for her day, but our oven ignitor is out and I'll have to order the part and fix it.  I'm volunteering, since fixing appliances gives me a rush.  Stuff breaks, but thankfully we're clever.

Enjoy your Fridays. :)

Fresh starts

Have been doing some researching, reading and soul-searching in regards to my relationship to my mom. And I need to be realistic as I consider all of this.  Am muddling over some things, but have found some answers that just. make. sense. With my mom's odd behavior of late (which if I'm honest, isn't anything new), and which I don't believe is related to any dementia or Alzheimer's sort of situation, I'm having to consider more of a mental state of mind.  An unstableness that goes way back.  A pattern has been set by her, and forcing myself to look at things squarely has been a pain.  With a capital P.  But really, a pain that's constructive, if that even makes sense.  Healing always comes with a price, especially if you force yourself to deal with things.

As Gary said, I've had to make up my mind whether to try to reason with her, and attempt to heal what's severely broken, or go my separate way. I've discovered that limited contact with her is key.  His conversations with her display an inability on her part to see anyone's point of view but her own.  She's hard, but comes across as a victim.  Believe me, she's not being victimized.

Frankly, I'm weary of always feeling guilty and for what, I have no clue.  My mind goes there quick as a wink.  And I think for the first time in my adult life, I'm seeing certain things clearly.  And it hurts.  To have a mom who's really not emotionally connected is damaging to a daughter's self-esteem. Mine has smarted for a long time.  The feeling 'not good enough' has finally gotten old.  And I don't want to automatically go there anymore.

That said, I'm looking forward to my August change of Internet time/responsibility for myself/play-time, etc. I did have fun unsubscribing from so many email listings.  Really.  It was fun.  Hadn't realized how many emails I tend to delete without reading them.  That takes valuable time just getting rid of unnecessary bits like that.  I cut out the political ones especially, mostly because they just rile me up.  And I went ahead and turned off Twitter, and Facebook will follow tomorrow.  Less places to wander off to.

So, as far as my mind can see now, I'm going to pull out the paints and drawing supplies, the lovely paper I've got and will get messy.  Don't have a plan, but even deciding to not have one is a plan in itself.  I think I just want to rest.  See, I've accumulated art supplies for ages and ages, and there they sit.  But this inward insecurity has bled over into that part of my life.  If I can't do it good enough, why bother.  See how far a mother's influence can go?  Not blaming her for everything wrong with my life, but patterns do tell their tale.

And finally, the sad thing about this whole 'mom' thing is that even as I write this, I expect someone (who, I have no idea) to tell me I've got it all wrong about her.  Can't imagine any of you doing that, but still, it comes to mind. I think I've pretended I have a dear relationship with my mom for so long, I almost believed it.  Or I figured everybody's mother acts this way. But there are no photos of the two of us looking at peace with one another. We never have done lunch regularly since I've gotten married.  There's not that coziness so many women have with their moms.  It's just not there, and she lives all of 3 miles away.  My major accomplishment these past weeks has been to recognize that, and to get to a place where I'm okay with that. Honestly, I'm not okay with it, but there's nothing else to do but accept what is true.

That I can do.

Here we go again...

Well, nuts.  I mean, really.  Nuts.  We got a call at noon-time from neighbor across the street about her brother (also a neighbor) who had died on Sunday.  I told Gary considering the news we've gotten about deaths lately, I could take up cussing.  But won't.  Wouldn't do any good, and just end up making me feel bad.

The thing is, this most recent death is someone who's rejected the Lord.  He just wouldn't have anything to do with Him.  One of our boys, who used to cut this friend's grass, spent several afternoons on his front porch, sharing the Gospel with him.  He'd listen, but always was able to reason his way out of making a commitment.  And today, his sister talked about the service he would have and that since they, neither one, believed in hell, that that topic wouldn't come up at the funeral (which will be later on in the week).

Well, okay.  Doesn't make the reality go away, though, does it?

And even the elderly neighbor who passed away on New Years would slip out of conversations that had anything to do with Christ.  Two of our boys had shared with him, trying to find out where his heart was in regards to the Lord. The pastor at his service said this man was a 'Christian of the Lutheran persuasion.'  His exact words.  Then the pastor (being, I believe a Baptist minister) gave a winning sermon on salvation for the eulogy.  Still don't know if that neighbor was a believer in the Lord or not, but the pastor sure was.

It's a shame when we minimize the importance of a relationship with Jesus Christ.  When being 'good enough' is supposed to be our ticket into heaven, and saying the word ticket isn't supposed to minimize it, either.

I even get a bit riled at the Anglican church when they say salvation takes place at infant baptism.  Don't get me started.  It's a relationship.  A gift.  And one that requires participation.  Nuts.

The Twelfth Day of Christmas

Resting in bed now.  Turns out 3 our kids were able to go to our neighbor's funeral this morning.  Second son showed up just as they were beginning, and it was sweet to see him afterward.  But the children are taking it hard.  I'll glance at certain of them and see the pain in their eyes.  They've not lost someone close to their hearts in awhile, and it's a bit of a shock.

And sort of on the same topic---as I was thinking of the weekend's dinners last night, I kept coming back to nursery food.  Meals that make a person feel loved.  So, on the way back from the service, I got makings for pigs in a blanket---which oddly enough, I've never made, but always have wanted to. Let's just say that it's not something I grew up eating, but have always liked the way it sounds.  Cozy.  That and boxed mac and cheese (which the least one thinks is fabulous) is what's for dinner.  Easy and hot, requiring a minimum of thought.  Perfect.

Now will tuck up and read.  Nothing's pressing, and there's nowhere to go. Oldest son is still in Toronto, oldest daughter is going out with sweet Indian boyfriend in a bit, 2 boys are at work, Gary's at his shop and the rest of our brood are here.  It's overcast and a perfect day for a nap, or simply to turn off my brain.  Will do.

Oh, and tomorrow we celebrate Epiphany at church.  Should be a sweet service---looking forward to it.

(photo apropos of nothing---just pretty patterns, and, yes, they are slightly off kilter)

Passing through

Got a text message just before 6am this morning.  It was the daughter of our older neighbor who's had continual health problems this past year or so.  He'd passed away at around 4am and she was letting everyone know.  And oddly enough, he's been in a rehab. hospital sort of place, and they were looking into hiring a nurse to stay with him at his daughter's house.  He was soon to be released.  Timing is so curious.  'Course he was in his nineties, so there was no telling what would happen, and when.  I'm relieved in so many ways, but sad for our kids who'd grown so attached to him.

Two things struck me.  One that she sent a text (which is such an odd way to share sad news), and two that I had no idea if/how I was going to be able to get back to sleep.  It's not like I could share with everyone, since the house still slept.  After about an hour, I was able rest again, so that was all good.

One of our boys, who's been a personal helper to this neighbor while he was still able to stay alone, suggested we tidy up his house in preparation for our neighbor's son to come into town.  He'll likely stay over there.  So we dusted and vacuumed, disinfected and swept leaves from the back steps.  Just made the house seem welcoming.  And one of our other boys is hurting really bad about it, so I got yard bags and tools out over there so he can clean up a bit tomorrow before he leaves for work.  Physical labor helps when the heart hurts.

When there's a death of someone close, I feel purged.  Sort of scoured clean.  I prefer it to not be a surprise, and this wasn't, but still----isn't it still always a bit of a shock?  I think so.  Folks are supposed to live forever (in our small, human minds), and it's always startling when that's not the case.  We get so used to the people who surround us.

For today...

Saturday night

Needed to change up the room in here a bit.  While I LOVE the book template I've been using, it'd gotten a bit dull for me. When things look the same for ages and ages, there needs to be a re-do.  Hence, the tidying up.

Hope this gets me in the mood for an uplift in other ways.  Btw, it's been 6 months since my dear friend, Patricia, died in her sleep, so that's sobering in itself.  Now must breathe deeply and move on.  She'd not want me to linger in sadness too awfully long.  But she'd understand if there was a pause from time to time.

Y'all take care.

A summery Monday

Thunderstorms overnight, so the sleeping was cozy.  Overcast alternating with sun this morning, with the clouds winning out which means the clothes go into the dryer today. A bit of a relief, not having to hang them out.  One less trip out into the heat.  Besides, the washer and dryer are both in the kitchen, so it's simple to load and unload.

Will read my last Susan Hill mystery, and maybe go to the grocery store later on.  Feeling less jazzed, and able to take a breath.  Honestly, still having low spells regarding Patricia's death.  It takes so LONG.  I was reading older posts here last night, and saw that she'd written a comment on grief at one point---talking about her dad's death and some details about that.  Odd to 'hear' her voice speaking about something I'm dealing with in regards to her.  I still scratch my head at God's timing.  Seems so often we're not in sync.

But anyway, I'm here and recovering slowly.  It takes time.  Will gather my threads and embellishments for the embroidery class that's inching nearer---June 20th or the 21st.  Must check the dates.  Having fun, creative things to anticipate is healing.  And will cut some flowers to bring inside.  The daisies are up and the coreopsis.  The black-eyed Susans are about to pop as well. Love having my own cutting garden.  Must go now and move clothes.  Enjoy your day!

(dishy photo source unknown)

Just past Wednesday

My ticker's been acting up a bit---stress-related, I know, so slept in a bit this morning.  Those hippity-hop beats get nerve-wracking, and are a sign that I need to watch it.

Found some Rosemary seeds that second son hadn't planted in the garden this spring, and will put them in a pot for Patricia.  For remembrance, you know.  I'm so overwhelmed in missing her and begin to cry at the slightest provocation. Small acts of quietness seem to help, plus not talking about it.  Talking does not help.

Will take fourth son tomorrow morning to check out a possible job with the VA.  A neighbor is encouraging him to apply for a clerical position, but am a bit wary of the whole situation (and am prayed up, so wondering if it's a spiritual nudging I'm getting).  She's being a bit heavy-handed, convinced that this is what he's supposed to do---in the meantime forgetting that he already has parents who have his best interests at heart, plus we're praying about it.  We've run into this sort of deal before with oldest daughter.  Her former employer got too pushy with trying to find her another job before she let her go.  We do know what we're doing, even though we're laid-back.  We might not fit into the world's idea of what parents should do with their children---advancement, big bucks, and looking good to the masses, but we're not fools either.  A bit concerned at this neighbor's hints at embellishing his resume as well.  Once you begin making yourself sound more qualified than you really are, problems ensue.  Plus your honesty is in question.

Having the kids do some extra reading this week while I lay low.  Tales from Shakespeare by Charles and Mary Lamb, How the Heather Looks by Joan Bodger, and good old Edgar Allen Poe. Re-reading The Raven, since a new movie is coming out about Poe.  I was a huge fan when I was younger, and of Emily Dickinson as well.  Depressing reads for a child, aren't they? Must've been a sign.

Must go now.  Reading Madeleine L'Engle and will cozy up with the bedroom window open. Take care.

(photo from unknown source)

Just after midnight

So on the heels of my last post about our non-law-abiding neighbors, wanted to finish on an upbeat note, if that's possible this week.

Feeling my nerves shattering a bit, and thankful I have a pile of books to dig into.  Began one by an Indian author (can't remember it, books in the living room out of my reach just now), which intrigues me since having oldest daughter date sweet Indian boyfriend.  So bizarre to be introduced to this foreign-ness, but enjoyable as well.

Began work on some embroidery today.  Using the cream linen I got yesterday, and it has the prettiest thin golden threads on the top side that I didn't see when I bought it.  So dainty to look at.  Bought some variegated pearl cotton too, and am outlining some spots to put some designs in.  Thinking of something along the lines of Amy's piece (which will be like her class) or Pam's work, though much, much more amateur-like.  Much more.  I admire their ability to just jump in since I tend to over-analyze what I'll do to a ridiculous extent.  Being spontaneous with creative things tends to trip me up, thinking I've got to get it right or not do it at all.  The end result of that thinking, though, is that nothing gets done!

Must go now.  Middle daughter is overtired and needing some fussing over---should've been asleep ages ago.  We're all a bit stretched.  Needing to feel God's blanket over me/us tonight and tomorrow.  Sweet Indian boyfriend is dealing with the death of a dearly loved aunt today himself, so we're doubled up with sadness.  Sometimes life is so weighty and it's only by God's tenderness that we endure.

Deep breaths.  I know we're not alone.

The day-to-day

Took the four youngest to the library and then to get a gallon of paint for the younger boys' room.  All good distractions, but we got caught in after-school traffic on the way back, and the hustle and bustle was terrible.  I'm usually spared that sort of busyness, since we're usually home in the afternoons, so was surprised at all the hurrying.  Here I am, trying to cope with some pretty terrible grief, and was brought down-to-earth by folks rushing around.  I always wonder why everyone's in such a tizzy.  Is anything that big of a deal?  Doubtful.

Pulling into the driveway was a relief.  Walking inside the house to the barking of our dogs was a comfort, as was just plopping into a chair with a glass of ice water.  Home.  No place better.

Gary told me to mind myself for the next few days and pay special attention to headaches.  He startled me by saying that, since I wasn't thinking I'd have a hard time physically in dealing with Patricia's death.  He was right. I have to cool it.  How often we tend to think we can 'do it all' and breeze right through hard times.

Tuesday will be a quiet one.  The most taxing thing I have to do is figure out dinner.  With a new piece of linen and some threads, will putter around with what I want to do for the stitching class that's this summer.  I've got lots of time to plan, but am looking forward to it, so got my fabric ahead of time.  Watercolors, open windows, books to read and minimal schoolwork for tomorrow.  Moving slowly and soft voices.  We're all tending one another gently.

Honestly I don't how I'll cope with Patricia gone.  She's been my go-to person when my depression has gotten out of hand.  And with about 8 years of friendship, there's a painful void staring me in the face.  A Patricia-shaped void.

Tina, if you're reading this, note that if anything happens to you, the void will be even more wretched.  Do you hear me?  Take care, sweet friend.

Already missing her

Just found out that one of my very dearest friends, Patricia Tryon, who I met on the Internet years ago, passed away in her sleep last night.  Some of you have seen her comments here since she's written more than anyone---and she's been a faithful blogging/emailing friend for ages and ages.

She's helped me in more ways than I can number, and the huge void she leaves is staring me in the face.  The grief is fresh...just minutes old, and, once again, I don't understand the Lord's timing.  Gosh, I'll miss her.  I can't begin to express how deeply I mean that.

Of course I can't hold a candle to her husband's and only daughter's pain, but she's touched so many lives---my dear Catholic friend---I know we'll rejoice in Heaven one day.