A New Neighborhood?

Dear J.,

I'm uneasy today. Something is just off kilter. Alot of things are contributing to this feeling I think. Hurricane Katrina has devastated New Orleans along with miles and miles of coast along the Gulf, causing already inflated fuel prices to rise dramatically overnight. That increases pressure already there to begin with.

A new truck payment and a new lifestyle of saving money has me uneasy and JB is getting his new truck soon....and while making the payment won't kill us, it is still new and you know how I do with "new". It throws me off....

My cousin is having troubles in her marriage and she is terribly unhappy and unfulfilled. Hesitant to go through another divorce, she is determined to stick it out for the kids and that doesn't sit well with me.

The anniversary of my mom's death is looming in the future and, while not really close yet, I have already started thinking back to this same time last year. Reliving her last couple months on this earth. Prior to my being "orphaned"....I know I'm not but I sure feel that way.

JB has apparently heard the call to help with Disaster Relief in the hurricane damaged area. I truly admire his willing and servant heart and am proud that I have a husband who cares so deeply that he wants to do what he can to give back a little something for what he has received in his lifetime. But, and I do feel selfish, I am frustrated about how I had to find out about it. And it is strange to try and explain how I feel the way I do or even why I feel the way I do....but I feel like the boat is about to shift beneath my feet.

Welcome to my neighborhood J.! Actually, to be perfectly honest, I am in between neighborhoods...kind of living on the streets, if you will. You see, my old neighborhood where I lived is full of upheavel. Both physical and mental. Life was CHAOS. All the time. Hardly ever an even keel where the waters were calm and peaceful.

J., you know my past and how chaotic it was and that is slightly an understatement. I could have my own hollywood studio I had so much drama in my life. Not necessarily by choice but it was there nonetheless. And when you are surrounded with nothing but chaos and emotional upheaveal all the time, you learn how to live there. It becomes second nature. It is your NORMAL. I just learned how to live with all of it and accept it as part of my life.

Until I found God. And I started noticing others around me. Others who had healthy marriages, healthy relationships and long periods of calm in their lives. And when drama came along, it didn't dominate everything. That was different. It was a new neighborhood and plenty of people seemed to reside there. And they liked it. I liked it. I wanted it. And I set out to get it.

Now J., I know what you are thinking. And it is true. When I set my mind to do something, I do it. Full force. There is no halfway. If I want it, I usually get it. And that is where I am today. Wondering the streets of the new neighborhood...trying to find that place where I can settle in and be at home with my self.

You see, I haven't been able to fully escape (and I do mean escape) the old neighborhood. While I don't want to live there, it is very familiar to me. So familiar that I often forget that I don't live there anymore. I feel constantly as though the "other shoe is about to drop" and that is scary to me. Like today. So many things are in dissaray that I feel scared. Like something is about to happen but yet my life seems to be somewhat uneventful....and what has occurred has not seemed to be of anything of great importance. And when I say that, I mean to say it has not caused chaos in my life.

Life is steady and sure....different. Of course, too, my view of what is normal is still slightly skewed. After all, I learned to live in the midst of chaos. Some of the things that happened to me that I deem "normal" or not that bad, can cause someone else's eyes to bug out. When the pastor shakes his head or raises his eyebrows, I know I've entered territory that even he has been moved to think is horrible. So I don't have a very good guage to go by....but it is getting better.

I know that my trust in God will help me learn how to adjust to this new neighborhood I live in. It will bring me in off the streets to shelter. It will keep me warm and dry and strong and assured. Long periods of calm will someday be my new "normal" instead of a novelty that I used to only dream of having. Having a healthy relationship with my husband, I hope will never become "old hat". That, I enjoy as a novelty and hope to enjoy for many years to come.

It's interesting here J., something new everyday. And God is right there, giving me the calm I need from inside. I am amazed at some of the things that no longer "snatch" my attention and hold it captive. I no longer search wild-eyed for shelter from the storm of emotions that come over me. The storms are not as severe as they once were. What a relief. It truly is. I truly want to live here in the new neighborhood, away from the bad one I grew up in.

Oh, I'm grateful to have lived there. I learned many things. I was blessed, even there. And it is because I lived there that I can fully appreciate where I live today. Where God has led me to be. I look back over the path I have come and I wonder sometimes, how in the world did I get through? Others wonder the same thing (talk about bringing an eyebrow to "attn"). But here I am, safe and sound and better than ever. God brought me through. He is the only way I could have made it. And it is true, when I could no longer face a day, and was living one second to the next, concentrating only on my next breath, it was God that lifted me in His arms and carried me.

During my darkest hours, He was with me, making sure I knew I was never alone. Sometimes He sat quietly, listening, comforting, easing my pain, encouraging me to keep going. And, other times, He was there pushing me, prodding me, disciplining me if necessary. But He was always there. His yoke was easy and the burden was light. In the darkness, He shone with a brilliance, lighting my path, and leading me through. Incredible. Awesome. Inspiring. I am fantastically blessed. With every trauma drama in my life, came so many blessings that I just couldn't believe it. The silver lining to every cloud. A ray of light that pierced the darkness.

I feel better now J. Thanks for being an ear. Things are still troubling but I don't feel uneasy anymore. Praise the Lord for that!

Time Machine

Dear J.,

I realize I may have to work backwards a bit in order to catch you up to everything I've missed. So bear with me over the next few entries. You are so kind.

Over the July 4 weekend, JB and I made an emergency trip to Indiana to hold an intervention. That in itself is a story. But, as a result of all the events that weekend, I returned home laden with bins of pictures and possessions that belonged to my mother and generations before her.
God was so good to us. We managed to recover quite a bit. We cannot believe how well these things have held up over time considering how badly they were treated (stored).

Our goal is to identify the pictures, scan them in and put our memories on CDs for safe keeping and then put together albums for protection of the original pictures. We have netted quite a few priceless finds.

My dad had been missing family pictures from his side along with pictures he had taken while in the military. We found those. We found a picture of his beloved dog, Tippy. Convinced he would never lay eyes on him again but in his mind, he opened a picture album I had sent in the mail to find his dog staring back at him. He longed to connect with my mother during a time when their love was new and had not yet been destroyed. He has been able to do that.

I wish I could say that I don't understand his undying love for this woman that treated him so badly, I can't. I need those same things. I have so many bad memories, that I have grabbed onto anything good.

Every few days or so I'll pull out a box and go through some pictures. I'm trying to sort them before scanning them. I run across important photos and I'll scan them and get copies printed. Put them on CD so that I can send them to Dad, hoping to relieve some of his anxieties over having given up his treasures so soon after having gotten them back. Mom lied to him. She said she didn't have them. That one of us kids had taken them. It hurt his feelings.

We also found two cousins on the Wing side of the family (my great grandmother's side). We had been sending them bits and pieces that we found as well.

Last night, I pulled out another box of pictures. Among the pictures were some of my mom's old nametags from when she worked at Kmart. Bank statements with cancelled checks. I can't bear to part with them. They were written in her hand and I need to keep hold of that. Then I found it. A bottle of her perfume. Wind Song. You know, "I just can't forget you, your Wind Song stays on my mind." I don't remember a time when my mother wore anything else. She always smelled of Wind Song. I could recognize her scent anywhere.

The perfume is old and I wouldn't dream of wearing it. Well, kind of. I stared at that perfume trying to figure out why I wanted to hold onto it so badly when I realized what I was holding.
I wasn't even sure what it would do, if it would "do" anything at all. It was hers. I knew that much. She hadn't worn perfume much in the last few years. She would always put it on when she got ready to go somewhere. So part of me associates it with leaving. But more, it was always on her, mixed with the lingering scent of her cigarettes. She never smelled bad....I suppose the perfume helped.

But before I knew what I was doing, I had opened the perfume, sprayed it on my forearm, lifted my arm to my face, closed my eyes, and very slowly, inhaled that sweet scent. I found myself transported through time. Suddenly, I was back home, kneeling beside my mother's chair, my head in her chest, my arms around her. My eyes are closed and I can hear the gentle wheeze in her lungs, feel her warm body as she responds to my hug, and I can hear her voice as she talks to me. I can't make out what she says, I just hear her voice.

I slowly exhale, keeping my eyes closed so I won't ruin this moment, and I inhale again, desperate for the scent to fill me up. It's almost like a drug. Then, suddenly, the tears well up in my eyes and I can't stop them from spilling down my cheeks. I'm flooded with a river of emotion, missing her so much it hurts. It aches. But I can't stop smelling the perfume on my arm. Somehow hoping that I can make her come back just through that scent.

Of course, reality won't allow me that much. But it is done. The decision is made. I've found a door to the past and I plan to keep it open. To my grieving mind, it is genius. I will keep the bottle and whenever I want to be with my mother for positive memories, I'll spray it on my arm. I'm even going to buy a new bottle. It will stay longer. This one was gone too quickly.

I never know where I'm going when I smell it. But I know I'm going back to a time when life was simpler. Back to a time when I didn't know alot of what I know now. Not always good times but a time when she was alive. A time when she was breathing and living and moving. A time when I could see her and touch her and the scent of her perfume makes it so real to me. It becomes more than a memory. It is a way to connect with her, if only in my mind.

I even sprayed it on my pillow, hoping that it would encourage me to dream about her. I didn't but it was worth a shot. I'm going to give it another try. What do you think J.? Do you think I'm crazy? I don't think so. I think I've found a new avenue to explore. At least it is something positive about my mother in the midst of so much negative.

I'll let you know how it works out. Until then, stay tuned. I can't wait to tell you about the dealings with the estate...you know, J., our family could make Jerry Springer easy. I just hope I never see one of us on there.

Opened eyes

Hey J.,

Long time no write! I have alot to catch up on with you....my surgery, my time off, family events, estate things, children things and God things. Wow! It has been a super long time since I wrote.

Today though, I want to tell you about something God showed me last week. Finally I have an opportunity to record these thoughts now that they have come back to mind. All thanks to my eye doctor.

Six years ago I had that Lasik surgery to correct my near-sightedness. What a wonderful blessing that was. Gives a whole new meaning to "I was once blind but now I see".
And see I can. My eyes have been wonderful ever since. It is funny though....after years of being "blind", I still behave that way in the dark. My eyes don't even try to see or adjust to darkness, my senses kick in and take over. But, I'm getting off the subject J. Sorry.

Anyway, every year, I have to have my eye exam in order to maintain my lifetime guarantee. That being that if I ever need an adjustment to my eyes, it will be free as long as I have kept up my eye exams. And that entails having my eyes dilated. Not fully dilated where one needs a driver, but a little bit dilated. And I'll tell you there is a difference.

J., having your eyes dilated is an experience. So let me share it with you. It all works into what God showed me. First, you know that the pupil of the eye (the black circle in the middle) adjusts itself to let in the appropriate amount of light. The brighter the light, the smaller the pupil. The darker it becomes, the bigger they get to let in more light.

Dilating opens those babies right up. This allows for the doctor to shine this incredibly bright light into your eyeball so that they can look inside and check everything out. What they are really doing is blinding you by doing what they tell you not to do. Sort of like the dentist telling you not to use sharp objects on your teeth and then they poke and prod with one. You get it.

Okay, so they dilate the eyes. Well, the drops sting a bit but they aren't a big deal. Then they sit you in a room with nothing to do but read magazines or watch television. Doesn't sound bad until you notice that things are starting to blur a bit. Now I'm used to being near-sighted, J., and I'm sitting with a magazine and I'm into this article and the letters start blurring. Okay, no problem (now, I know this happens but from year to year, you kind of forget)...I bring it closer and try to focus on the words all the while speeding up my reading in hopes that I can finish this article before my eyesight totally goes.

The words continue to blur and I realize that closer doesn't hack it. So I pull it back....nope, nothing. Just a blur. Dang it. I didn't get to finish the article. I hate when that happens.
The doctor finally checks my eyes (in a dimly lit room mind you). Appt. is over but the dilation kind of stays with you....on your way out, they hand you what I refer to as senior citizens sunglasses. They don't even have "arms" anymore. They unroll and fit over your face or glasses whichever you have. Well, J., I'm a bit vain when it comes to those. I refuse to wear them. And I take a glimpse outside and it's cloudy. It's dreary. I figure I'm good. And didn't I do the same thing last year and do fine? Of course I did. (Did I also mention that I think I'm a perfect future candidate for Alzheimer's?)

I decline the offer. The nurse tries to get me to take them. I assure her that I'm fine. I didn't care if I wasn't fine, I wasn't putting those things on my face. My vain-ness forgot to take into account that I had just upped the deductible on my insurance to $1000 (not only am I vain, I'm cheap) on the new truck. Well, I stride confidently outside into the dreary day and the very millisecond that I open the door, the light pierces through into my eyes and my eyes slam shut, tears spill out the sides and I struggle to maintain composure because I'm just sure I'm being watched and talked about. I had to make this look good.

Inwardly kicking myself, I remember I have a $1000 deductible, I can't see and I'm pretty sure that if I had an accident, my husband, our insurance company, whomever I "accident-ed" with, along with myself, would NOT be happy. Especially if I damage my new truck. (I'm not that cheap).

I make it to the truck and realize that Pride has decided to come along for the ride with Vain. Pride won't let vain back down and go back in for the glasses...as a matter of fact, Pride offers to drive the truck. Straight down to the Target where Vain intends to purchase a pair of sunglasses that Pride will pick out and refuse to ask what the price is on them because I cannot focus yet. Meanwhile, I'm in the backseat while Vain and Pride share the front. I'm fretting about an accident.

I realize, while driving just how bright it appears outside and suddenly I flash on Moses asking God to show him His face. God declines, knowing that laying one eye on Him would kill him. Instead, God offers a compromise. He will hide Moses in the cleft of the rock. He will pass by so that Moses may see his glory from the back. Just a very small glimpse. I think it appropriate to say that Moses was astounded by just that small bit of glory that he saw.

My eyes stung so bad from the dreariness of the day, had it been fully sunny, what would it have been like? And my gosh, think about God's glory?!? I came to fully understand why God had to protect Moses. And how He came to protect us 24/7 with our eyes being made just the right way. I had a hard time believing how much brighter things were. And the color gets lost in the brightness. Everything starts to turn white it is so bright.

I'm thankful that God has things under control. And I'm glad he has us made with built in protective features like our self adjusting pupils. And I'm reminded just how big His Glory is. How bright it is. So bright we cannot imagine. So bright that just a glimpse would certainly kill us. We have a very big God. And I understand Moses' pleas to God to see His glory. To want to see the face of the One who created him. What a privelege to be able to lay eyes upon the Lord of Lords. My Father in Heaven. My Protector. My Savior and my Friend. My Comforter. My Rock and my Wings.

I understand that I cannot see it all....but He does show me glimpses. He hides me in the "cleft of the rock" and shows me His glory in the small things. Someday I will see His face. And it will be worth the wait.