Winter's End

It seems like winter has lasted an exorbitant amount of time.

The darkness, the cold, the brown, the broken, the dead. 
It is an extremely long and difficult season.

Unless I embrace it for what it is; 
intentionally search for the beauty that lies within.

More recently, it seems that spring is beckoning. 

I can almost touch it, smell it, taste it.
I can almost hold it close.  

There are signs of light and warmth and new beginning and growth. 
It feels good.
It feels promising. 
It feels safe.

 

I don't know at all what spring has in store.
But I look back at winter, not in regret; only remembering what was.
I let go of the dead while storing the precious treasures I found there.
And I look forward to the joy of spring;
bringing those lessons with me, following the One that leads, believing winter has ended.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot;
a time to kill and a time to heal; a time to tear down and a time to build;
a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance;
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them; a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to search and a time to give up; a time to keep and a time to throw away;
a time to tear and a time to mend; a time to be silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace.
~ Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

This has been such a rough year. For you and for me.

Nothing has been easy. For any of us.

But I am holding my own and I pray that you are, too.

Tonight I am home alone. And I had no agenda. Frankly, the motivation has been nil, lately. So I grabbed the remote (the one I barely know how to use - yes, I'm that old now) and decided to watch a movie that I hadn't watched yet. Haven't had the chance, haven't take the time, haven't had the courage.

Tonight I watched Ben Is Back. Thank God, I was alone. Thank God, I was not in the theater.

Watching this movie if you don't have a personal connection to addiction, I'm guessing, would be uncomfortable at worst.

Watching this movie with that personal connection ... I don't even know if I have the words. I think I felt every emotion. I was on edge the entire time. I know I was holding my breath at some points. I was encouraging and applauding the various characters. And I was angry with each one of them. Except the little ones ... and the dog. Not them.

But the mother. She was me. I could physically feel her heart. Even though in my own situation, I am the addict's wife, I intimately KNOW every emotion she experienced ... sadness, joy, love, hate, anger, hope, fear. Every. single. one.

And at the end, I cried. No, I sobbed. And it was u.g.l.y. (Hence, paragraph #3.) I'm over an hour out of the final credits and I am still on the verge of tears.

Maybe I needed the cry, the release. Maybe I needed the reminder that addiction is so real and closer than I'd like to recall.

Maybe I needed to come back here and write again. To tell my story. Because it's in the stories that we learn and heal and know how to move forward. And as I wrote at the very beginning of this blog, there is nothing small about one's story when we tell the truth about our broken and beautiful lives.

Share your story.  It WILL reach someone that needs to hear.

Worth

I’ve had two Facebook conversations this week with two different friends that needed a little encouragement and within those separate conversations, I told them each that they were WORTH it (in relation to the discussion we were having).

Today, the sermon at church was remarkably similar in subject and definitely God-given.  Our Pastor encouraged us to “let it go” … let go of the negative words spoken over us and hold onto the truth that we know.  He even had a scene clip of one of my favorite movie quotes from The Help:  “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”

I’m trying to stay awake to watch the ball drop on Times Square (on TV, not in person) with my girls and I keep going over these conversations and this sermon in my head.  And since it is New Year’s Eve … looking back at the year that has passed … looking forward to the year ahead … it’s an appropriate time to claim 2018.

This year I am claiming WORTH.

I am WORTH it … whatever it is!  I am WORTH more … more than I’ve believed, more than I’ve allowed, more than I hear being said, more than my critics think.  And since I am WORTH it, I am also going to work toward financial WORTH and stability so that I can one day claim my financial peace as well.

And, you know, while I’m at it, Lord, please help me to LET IT GO.  I am going to let go of the negative words spoken over me … of the pain those words have caused … of the feelings that still hurt. 

I need to LET IT GO … because when I do, I'll have a lot more room to hold onto what I am WORTH.

A Mama's Moment

“I have a son, who is my heart.

A wonderful young man, and loving and strong and kind.”

~ Maya Angelou

My son is a senior in high school this year. I've done this before with his older sister and am trying to savor "the lasts" of the year. I first noticed things were changing when his heart broke leaving summer camp this year. The "first of the lasts", maybe?

Already, this seems to be a very transformative year for him. I see him growing and maturing and branching out in all kinds of ways ... trying new things; making big, solid decisions; allowing a gamut of emotions; speaking more profoundly. My little boy is growing up. I'm sad at the thought of losing my little boy, but so proud of the young man I see emerging.

I've learned many things as my children's mama. Just one is that at least two of the three do not appreciate me approaching them at the end of their sporting events. It is difficult for me not to ... win, lose, or draw ... but much better for each of us if I let them approach me when they are ready.

This was put into practice earlier this week at my boy's last home cross country race. Being the unofficial team photographer, I stay busy during the races capturing each teammate in various locations on the course as I cheer them on. I rarely make it back to the actual finish line for that reason and usually do not see my children cross the finish line. I have only been able to put the pieces together of this week's finish with the help of my friends.

As I watched my son round his last corner on the course and head to the finish, I knew he had placed very well, but I had no idea what had just happened. I'm told that, just beyond my final sighting of him, as he crested the hill to come into the chute, he realized his time on the clock ahead and pushed for the line with a beaming smile and our fans cheer him on! It was the best race of his high school career! He crushed his personal best by 43 seconds and placed in the Top 10 of the league. He had surpassed his season goal!

Happy but not fully understanding why, I headed back to my "photo spots" to catch the next race. I would wait for him.

And he came. In the middle of his younger sister's race, I noticed him approaching. Alone. Without his teammates. He was seeking me out. We locked eyes. He had that smile on his face and tears in his eyes. He never looked away. Never wavered. Never stopped moving toward me. I knew something special was happening and I began to move toward him.

Mamas, you know that moment that you long for? The moment when you realize you have not failed? When you recognize you've done just fine? When you know with every ounce of your being that your child really does love you?

THIS was my time. THIS was my moment with my son. He wrapped me in his little-boy-grown-up arms and stooped to bury his face into my neck and we held each other. I don't remember if he said anything. I'm sure I did, but don't remember what. But I will never forget those feelings of complete and utter joy and love. Part of my heart held his arms around me.

As much as I wish I could have photographically documented that moment, because that is what I do, I could not. Actually, it never even crossed my mind at the time. But I thank God that He nudged my friend to! I love her so much for capturing this shot with her phone just as our hug ended.

Mamas, I want you know that as long as your are loving your child the very best that you know how ... up on the hills, down in the valleys, and in the daily walk between ... 

YOU ARE DOING JUST FINE.

Neither one of you may feel it today.

But YOU. ARE. LOVED.

Your moment is coming, Mama. Just wait for it!

Spread Love ... Speak Life

A friend of mine died this week.  I first met her in 2005 when I was a patient and she was a receptionist in my surgeon's office.  We didn't really know each other but I found her laughter and kindness magnetic.  I nearly passed out from pain that day.  She (and their fabulous team of three) showed me great compassion and sat with me until I recovered.  She even offered to drive me home.

A couple of  years later, I found myself speaking to her on a regular basis after I became a receptionist in another physician's office that worked closely with hers.  She was always fun to speak with and very accommodating to work with.

Fast forward to the past few years ... we now have the same office family, and though we worked on different floors of our building, I always looked forward to her silly morning greetings and chatting with her throughout the day.  I can't remember ever seeing her without a smile or angry with anyone. She told the funniest stories and her laugh was so contagious!  

In addition to being a co-worker, she was a good friend.  The conversations we had about some things in my life that others had a difficult time understanding were comforting.  She just knew.

Since her death a few days ago, the comments on social media and those spoken out loud have been nothing less than an outpouring of love.  And it caused me to wonder ...

I wonder how my friend would have felt if she could have heard these things in person.

I wonder if she felt the joy that she gave to others.

I wonder if she would have held her head higher knowing that she was so loved.

I wonder if she would have done anything different in her life if she would have been praised so highly "then" instead of now.

I wonder if she felt as forgiven as she constantly offered her forgiveness.

I wonder if she knew ...

... that she was loved?

... that she was kind and, oh, so compassionate?

... that she glowed with joy?

... that no one could be sad around her?

... that she will be terribly missed?

... and that I am so blessed to have called her my friend.

I never told her these things and I am so sorry that I didn't.  I can only pray that she felt everything that is in my heart and in the hearts of those missing her today.  

I pray also that her family knew just how much she loved them ... with every ounce of her being she loved you ... and she would want you to find joy again and share it with those around you ... to love and to be loved.

I love you, Mary.  I pray I will see your joyful face again one day. In your honor, I will seek harder to spread what love I can and to speak life ... just as you did for me.  Thank you for being my friend.

Little Tree

Do you ever feel like this little tree?

Standing at the edge of the angry waters ... being toppled by its force ... over and over again.

I feel like this tree.  A lot.  The waters of life are rushing by and pushing me over.  Struggles internally, with health, with relationships, financially ... you name it.  I'm bouncing up and down from one issue to another and all I really want to do is stay down and out of the way until the raging waters have passed.

While the little tree is symbolic of my current state of being, this slightly larger tree is where I wish I was ... where I should be.

Again, it's only slightly larger in size, but obviously much stronger and so much more steady and able to take on those same raging waters.  Much further out in the water ... smack in the middle of the rush ... yet barely moving in all the surrounding chaos.

The waters are ever-changing.  Heck, so am I.  But my God is not.  I need to remember to stay firmly rooted in His rock no matter what the world around me is doing.  The rains will end and the rapids will subside and hopefully I will still be upright with new growth to show for it.  Until then, I'll just keep holding on tight and getting back up and learning the ways of that steady tree.

Epiphany!

What an epiphany I had today!  I was reading some comments to a recent newspaper article regarding a newly proposed drug task force in our small, rural county.  Among the comments was a complaint, from someone that seemed to be worried about the impact of drugs in our area, that this will cost tax payers more money.

I have to tell you, the comment ticked me off.  I mean, if you're really concerned about drugs,would you be complaining about the possibility that your taxes could rise slightly in order to fight the epidemic?  Wouldn't you be willing to contribute $5, $25, even $50 extra a year to help?  The more I thought about it, the more irritated I got.  Who are you to complain about a tax increase to help this addiction epidemic?

Let's take a step back.  When my husband entered his most recent rehab just a year ago this month, we had nothing financially to help offset the cost.  We could no longer afford regular life, nevermind what this was going to cost.  In fact, we were once asked by one of his counselors if we would be willing to legally separate in order to assist financially, among other things.  (That's another rant altogether!)  He was forced to apply for Medicaid, which covered his medical needs for doctor visits, medication, etc., but because of the fact that we "own" our home and had retirement accounts, he was unable to use that insurance to cover the cost of his stay at the facility.  The only option we were left with was for him to cash in the majority of his state retirement.

On top of all of the other anger I had over the situation, including the financial hit I was taking here at home, this really made my blood boil!  I mean, come on!  He spent 17+ years contributing to that account.  It wasn't a huge amount by today's standards but, in my mind, that money was going to ensure that we could enjoy life a bit when we retired.  And if he can have the luxury of cashing it in to pay for 9 months of rehab away from his wife and children, why couldn't I have use it instead to pay the 9 months of bills I was facing alone?  Yeah, I was pretty bitter.  In the end, the retirement was cashed in for the amount he needed.  I had to let it go.  He paid the tax and penalty for it right off the top so we wouldn't take that hit later, but then tax season rolls around this year.  There was a kick in the stomach.  Over $3,500 deducted on our return because of that "extra income" we received.  Income?  You're kidding, right?  It just made the anger that I thought I had let go resurfaced all over again.

Then I read that comment today, and I quote:  "We are going to create a new job ... to do nothing but bleed more money from the taxpayers."

All of a sudden it hit me.  SMACK!  I was just like that county resident.  I was more concerned about our money than our family!  Think about it, Erika!  That money that I thought would provide security and entertainment in our retirement would have meant absolutely nothing if he never even made it that far.  And let me tell you this: he never would have had any hope of making it to retirement had he not spent that money on his recovery.

Maybe neither one of us will actually get to retire ... God never guaranteed us specific time here on this earth ... but if we do make it that far, I'm thinking that retirement fund, and our tax dollars, will have been invested very wisely and, God willing, we will have much more important things to enjoy.