Since the housing market is still too stagnant for us to be able to move to AZ, and since my husband, Joel still has at least another five months until he will be allowed to attempt a transfer back to MI, we decided that the next best option was to move here temporarily when the kids were out of school. July 1 to October 1; three months, or 90 days as Grace likes to tell people.
Actually, Nathan will be leaving much sooner. August 6 his dad will drive here to get him and they will embark on a 14 day road trip the long way home. Beginning with the Grand Canyon, and looping up to Yellowstone and Badlands, Mt. Rushmore and through the beautiful Pictured Rocks of the UP of Michigan, their trip will be filled with awesome sights to behold. And I know Nathan is very excited about it, as he was for this entire summer of adventure that began when we left June 28. And we are excited for him. But we will be melancholy to see him go. It will be nearly two months before we (Grace and I) see him again (longer for Joel, of course which makes me apprecitate Joel's occasional bouts of "being in a funk" all the more). Two months. Nathan, Grace, and I have never gone more than seven days apart, and that was unusual, two days at most, normally...now...two months.
It will be difficult.
Tears will fall.
Our hearts will ebb.
But oh, the joy that will effervesce when we meet again!
Luckily Nate is a kid who loves travel and adventure and new experiences as much as I do. Grace does, too, but she's a little gun shy from having Joel gone all this time.
So. For now we are together with Joel. He drove up to get us (so we'd have two cars to utilize when packing and toting two kids, a dog, a cat, an adult and all the STUFF that goes with us, instead of just one car). We couldn't afford a moving truck or trailer (we did look into it extensively); hence we don't have much in the way of material items and conveniences such as furniture, clothes. pots/pans, dishes--that sort of thing. We have a blanket in the middle of our tiny living room floor which we call our "couch". We play cards and board games, we read, we spend at least four days per week at the library up the road since we have no internet or television, either. And, we spend a lot of time at the two swimming pools that are practically right outside our "90-day Test Drive" apartment door.
All in all not bad. And best of all, our meager, mismatched, cut-rate cups runneth over with LOVE because we are together with Joel again.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Fun With Boxes
Nathan-this is what he and his cousins did with their free time at my Aunt Heidi's place up north last week. Fun with empty boxes, just like the good ol' days. Thanks for the pictures, Lynne. And thanks Heidi and Joe for the beautiful and fun filled weekend camping in your yard, eating good food, and telling old ghost stories by the campfire.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Witnessing Grace
Here is what I wrote in my journal on April 8th:
Mourning Again
Gracie--intense baby, exceptionally impassioned little girl.
Heart on her sleeve,
it splits open for all to see, hear, feel her sorrow;
and her blood runs and it touches any in her vicinity.
Her anguished cries and screams, begging him
to stay.
Trying to physically keep him here;
blocking
pushing him back
clutching his body, not letting go.
Grabbing door frames and walls as he carries her
with him out to the car.
Why can't you work in Michigan, Daddy?
I don't want you to go, Daddy!
You can't go. Stay. Stay here, Daddy.
You're staying here, Daddy. You don't have to go.
Stay, Daddy.
Her six year old head can't wrap itself around the why.
Her six year old heart only knows it has been cracked wide open
and it hurts.
She succmbs.
He sits with her in the backseat;
she cries.
A mournful, moaning cry.
He holds her.
She says,
I don't want you to go Daddy.
She says it like a mantra that's lost its reason.
He says he doesn't want to go either.
She sobs
until she sleeps, even though Gracie doesn't sleep in the car;
she sleeps.
He wakes her when we are on the airport roads;
she quietly weeps as though she never slept.
When he says good-bye her weeping returns to wailing.
She is trying to hold it back
but cannot.
He tries to make her laugh, she tries to smile for him
but cannot.
Instead, a sorrowful moan escapes her throat
and she is trying to close her heart
but she cannot.
Her wailing circles to quiet weeping, which turns to
quiet contemplation.
Or subdued stillness.
Or encompassing emptiness.
She is temporarily tranquilized.
She gazes at nothing.
My right arm is stretched back holding,
caressing her right foot;
the only comfort I can give while driving alone with her now.
My arm is numb
my heart is not.
A low lamenting moan after a time,
but it is only followed by a sigh--no more crying.
She is six years old and she grieves again for her daddy.
And I grieve for her.
I wrote this the day Joel left after the longest visit yet (7 days). And that same night, at 11pm, I wrote:
She is dancing, she is creating art, she is laughing and smiling. She stops to say she misses him, she allows her grief to flow, but then she allows herself normalcy and levity. Her spirits are lifted by music and art and animals, she allows herself to feel what she is feeling in the moment and she does not wallow.
I love the lessons our children show us. Thank you, Gracie.
Mourning Again
Gracie--intense baby, exceptionally impassioned little girl.
Heart on her sleeve,
it splits open for all to see, hear, feel her sorrow;
and her blood runs and it touches any in her vicinity.
Her anguished cries and screams, begging him
to stay.
Trying to physically keep him here;
blocking
pushing him back
clutching his body, not letting go.
Grabbing door frames and walls as he carries her
with him out to the car.
Why can't you work in Michigan, Daddy?
I don't want you to go, Daddy!
You can't go. Stay. Stay here, Daddy.
You're staying here, Daddy. You don't have to go.
Stay, Daddy.
Her six year old head can't wrap itself around the why.
Her six year old heart only knows it has been cracked wide open
and it hurts.
She succmbs.
He sits with her in the backseat;
she cries.
A mournful, moaning cry.
He holds her.
She says,
I don't want you to go Daddy.
She says it like a mantra that's lost its reason.
He says he doesn't want to go either.
She sobs
until she sleeps, even though Gracie doesn't sleep in the car;
she sleeps.
He wakes her when we are on the airport roads;
she quietly weeps as though she never slept.
When he says good-bye her weeping returns to wailing.
She is trying to hold it back
but cannot.
He tries to make her laugh, she tries to smile for him
but cannot.
Instead, a sorrowful moan escapes her throat
and she is trying to close her heart
but she cannot.
Her wailing circles to quiet weeping, which turns to
quiet contemplation.
Or subdued stillness.
Or encompassing emptiness.
She is temporarily tranquilized.
She gazes at nothing.
My right arm is stretched back holding,
caressing her right foot;
the only comfort I can give while driving alone with her now.
My arm is numb
my heart is not.
A low lamenting moan after a time,
but it is only followed by a sigh--no more crying.
She is six years old and she grieves again for her daddy.
And I grieve for her.
I wrote this the day Joel left after the longest visit yet (7 days). And that same night, at 11pm, I wrote:
She is dancing, she is creating art, she is laughing and smiling. She stops to say she misses him, she allows her grief to flow, but then she allows herself normalcy and levity. Her spirits are lifted by music and art and animals, she allows herself to feel what she is feeling in the moment and she does not wallow.
I love the lessons our children show us. Thank you, Gracie.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Following Your Joy--Just Try It
Last night my "commune housemate", Jen thanked me for DVRing American Idol so she could see Lee DeWyze sing "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen (see February 5th blog). I said, That's funny, I just thanked Ellen DeGeneres in my journal for getting me to watch American Idol in the first place, so I could witness the transformation of Lee from shy paint store employee who had a passion for music to a performing artist who is now regularly releasing that passion onstage for all to see and hear and feel and share. Look at all the joy he brings to others just by doing and sharing what he loves. (I'm sure he was doing it at home, but who knew? It's the getting himself out there and sharing it with the world that took heart and courage and we can all see the pay-off, not just to Lee, but to all of us who watch and listen to him, too.) I feel so strongly on about that point that I wrote a book about it (still haven't found an agent who will read any of it--so I've put the querying aside for another while and I'm working on some children's books and a novel).
Everything comes in its own time. As I've said, I'm not really a big TV person, but shows like American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance that've been around for years, but that I am only just now starting to watch, inspire me and keep my faith alive as I pursue my own dream. I feel such a deep connection with the singers and dancers and their quest to do what they love for a living. It's too bad they couldn't do a show like that for writers. By nature, we tend to be more reclusive so getting us to read our pieces on a stage would be a stretch--not even factoring in that it could put the audience to sleep early on in the auditions.
No, those of us wanna-be-writers will just continue to write, to query, to enter contests (that aren't televised...or even known to most)...maybe blog once in a while. And always we will know that we are writers, even if we've never published anything, even if we are still earning our living as a medical supply manager, as a teacher, or as a stay-at-home-mom. We will work hard at our craft because it brings us joy to do so and because of that, we will know that someday, if we truly believe, we will earn a living from that joy and share it with others--Just as surely as Lee and Crystal and Casey and Mike from American Idol will.
In the meantime, we will be awed and uplifted beholding the singers and dancers in the final episodes of these shows come into their own and live out their purpose. Hopefullly, they inspire not only other singers and dancers (and writers), but any person who has thought about following their dream. Any of us can do it. No matter what it is, no matter who you are, no matter how scary or crazy it sounds to yourself or to others--just do it anyway. And live joyfully.
Everything comes in its own time. As I've said, I'm not really a big TV person, but shows like American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance that've been around for years, but that I am only just now starting to watch, inspire me and keep my faith alive as I pursue my own dream. I feel such a deep connection with the singers and dancers and their quest to do what they love for a living. It's too bad they couldn't do a show like that for writers. By nature, we tend to be more reclusive so getting us to read our pieces on a stage would be a stretch--not even factoring in that it could put the audience to sleep early on in the auditions.
No, those of us wanna-be-writers will just continue to write, to query, to enter contests (that aren't televised...or even known to most)...maybe blog once in a while. And always we will know that we are writers, even if we've never published anything, even if we are still earning our living as a medical supply manager, as a teacher, or as a stay-at-home-mom. We will work hard at our craft because it brings us joy to do so and because of that, we will know that someday, if we truly believe, we will earn a living from that joy and share it with others--Just as surely as Lee and Crystal and Casey and Mike from American Idol will.
In the meantime, we will be awed and uplifted beholding the singers and dancers in the final episodes of these shows come into their own and live out their purpose. Hopefullly, they inspire not only other singers and dancers (and writers), but any person who has thought about following their dream. Any of us can do it. No matter what it is, no matter who you are, no matter how scary or crazy it sounds to yourself or to others--just do it anyway. And live joyfully.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Laughing with Fate
In the Gregory David Roberts novel, Shantaram, one of the characters, Karla, says, "If fate doesn't make you laugh, then you just don't get the joke." I love that line. Maybe partly because I can be so slow at getting the jokes that Nate and Joel get right away and then it turns into a laugh-fest at me. I laugh, too. I do get the jokes; just not as quickly as everyone else--When I do, I think it's as funny as anyone that my comprehension could be so dilatory, and we end up laughing all the more. So when crazy things happen, especially in groupings, I look for Fate's punchline and often I am quicker than most to get it, hence my appreciation for Karla's line.
I mentioned last week that my identity was stolen--actually, it was just one credit card that an international fraud ring got hold of, posing as me online in London, Berlin, D.C....they racked up about $4000 in charges within a few days. But the funny thing was that my identity had been stolen about 10 years ago. As I've mentioned in the first blog, I am not at all technically savvy; I'm not online often (well, when I'm researching for a writing project or something...I am),I do some online bill paying, but nothing is saved to the computer or anything like that. And ten years ago I had an email account that I never checked and that was it. So it's just funny that someone got me twice in ten years.
The first one, I never knew about until the bill collectors tracked me down a year later accusing me of hiding out. The person who opened the account lived in Ohio, gave a fake Ohio address and phone, and they knew my mom's maiden name. The charges added up to about $1000 and the card was never used after two large purchases, but it took me almost a year to get it resolved. Almost no one believed me and when I reached someone who did believe me, they had no idea what to do about it. It just wasn't as common back then. It was a constant game of phone calls, explaining my story over and over, most often on prejudiced ears (most made it perfectly clear that they thought I was lying...), two different people on two different occasions actually hung up on me midsentence and I promise you that I never raised my voice and I never used harsh words. I knew that each new person I spoke to had nothing to do with the person I had spoken to before. But for some reason, most of them seemed to form an immediate opinion about me often referring to me as "people like you". It was crazy. That's why it took nearly a year, because sometimes I needed to take a week off from the negativity coming at me through the phone with each call I made. Also, I was sent on wild goose chases by the few that tried to help me by guessing at what I should do (sending me to my own city police, who directed me to the Cleavland, Ohio police, who directed me right back to the credit card company...).
This time, among the charges were a trip to Italy, a notebook computer, backpacking gear, and $300 in music downloads. I said, "They're buying things that I want to buy for myself!...I'm Monica! I'm Monamana!" (that Friends episode...) And people do mispronounce "Meinema (say: MINE-eh-mah)" as "MoNAMana"! I've been planning to go to Italy for years now, but my goal was by 2010 ("italy2010" was one of my passwords to get to patient information on the hospital computers years ago)...Nate, Jen, and I were supposed to go...but then Joel lost his job, moved to AZ...so it will wait at least another year. Also, the day before I'd found out about the charges, I told myself that I needed to get my own laptop since my computer is going so slowly, it's old...and this is Jen's laptop I'm using until she needs it again in the summer when she has to give her school laptop back (she's a teacher).
And THEN: the very next day after I found out about the fraud charges and said I was Monamana/Monica, Nate turned on that episode of Friends. It's been at least a year or two since the last time Nate and I watched Friends and it's been months since we watched any TV show together (he was always swimming--oh, and he beat his goal of 26 seconds for the 50-Free, he gets 25's regularly--he's got that passion for it now), but there it was, just starting, the one where Monica becomes Monamana and takes dance lessons and tries out for a Broadway play with the girl who stole her identity.
So I'm laughing. And there's more, too much to tell. This is already so choppy, I know. Maybe I'll fix it later. Well, you know about my debit/credit card being declined...that's resolved, too (our bank wasn't used to us using it so much and in two different states...). As of last night my phone went out. Today I was online "chatting" with a tech to try to fix it for an hour and a half. I was typing, running back to the computer room to troubleshoot for/with JOHN--checking wires, unplugging, plugging, finding the right port, etc. and making dinner for Grace. I'm coo-coo for cocoa puffs! It's still not fixed. It will be at least two days. Please, if you are trying to call me, don't leave a message because I can't get to them.
My point and the reason I am laughing is because I know it's not just funny or weird that this has happened. Twice. Ten years ago my life was going through an overhaul. I was separated from my husband, Donnie. I was completely changing my career path by attending nursing school. I was getting a new identity (but fighting it back then; I fought with myself a lot in those days, which is partly why the process to get it straighened out was so rocky, right?).
This time, I'm flowing with the changes. JOHN said I was "easy to work with". I got a good laugh out of that since, to me, none of it seemed easy...I was already laughing at myself because it's like a maze of wires back there, I know nothing about any of it... anyway, when he typed that, I laughed more. Thanks again wherever you are, JOHN.
I've been in the process of transformation for two and a half years--since the day I decided to be a writer in August of 2007. I am looking at this as a sign of culmination. This is the year I will get an agent and finally be published and paid for the work I've been doing. I just know it. Right when I found out from Saks Fifth Avenue security that someone from London was trying to use my name and Master Card to by a pair of $532 Gucci loafers,(I guess because I'd never shopped at Saks in my life is what tipped them off--and they were the first to notify me, not my card company, thanks Saks security--), I was stunned more at the fact that this was the second time in ten years that someone stole my identity. And I knew that I had to pay attention. An hour later, after speaking to someone from the credit card company, who told me about the trip to Italy, the notebook computer... I knew. This will be a pivotal year. I'm on my way to being able to afford a trip to Italy, regular hiking trips, an iPod or MP3 player, or something like that (I LOVE music and I'm still using a boom box and CDs--our stereo is out, too)and my very own notebook computer.
We must remember to laugh. Even when things seem to be going wrong--there's a reason. Just have faith and laugh and enjoy the growth.
I mentioned last week that my identity was stolen--actually, it was just one credit card that an international fraud ring got hold of, posing as me online in London, Berlin, D.C....they racked up about $4000 in charges within a few days. But the funny thing was that my identity had been stolen about 10 years ago. As I've mentioned in the first blog, I am not at all technically savvy; I'm not online often (well, when I'm researching for a writing project or something...I am),I do some online bill paying, but nothing is saved to the computer or anything like that. And ten years ago I had an email account that I never checked and that was it. So it's just funny that someone got me twice in ten years.
The first one, I never knew about until the bill collectors tracked me down a year later accusing me of hiding out. The person who opened the account lived in Ohio, gave a fake Ohio address and phone, and they knew my mom's maiden name. The charges added up to about $1000 and the card was never used after two large purchases, but it took me almost a year to get it resolved. Almost no one believed me and when I reached someone who did believe me, they had no idea what to do about it. It just wasn't as common back then. It was a constant game of phone calls, explaining my story over and over, most often on prejudiced ears (most made it perfectly clear that they thought I was lying...), two different people on two different occasions actually hung up on me midsentence and I promise you that I never raised my voice and I never used harsh words. I knew that each new person I spoke to had nothing to do with the person I had spoken to before. But for some reason, most of them seemed to form an immediate opinion about me often referring to me as "people like you". It was crazy. That's why it took nearly a year, because sometimes I needed to take a week off from the negativity coming at me through the phone with each call I made. Also, I was sent on wild goose chases by the few that tried to help me by guessing at what I should do (sending me to my own city police, who directed me to the Cleavland, Ohio police, who directed me right back to the credit card company...).
This time, among the charges were a trip to Italy, a notebook computer, backpacking gear, and $300 in music downloads. I said, "They're buying things that I want to buy for myself!...I'm Monica! I'm Monamana!" (that Friends episode...) And people do mispronounce "Meinema (say: MINE-eh-mah)" as "MoNAMana"! I've been planning to go to Italy for years now, but my goal was by 2010 ("italy2010" was one of my passwords to get to patient information on the hospital computers years ago)...Nate, Jen, and I were supposed to go...but then Joel lost his job, moved to AZ...so it will wait at least another year. Also, the day before I'd found out about the charges, I told myself that I needed to get my own laptop since my computer is going so slowly, it's old...and this is Jen's laptop I'm using until she needs it again in the summer when she has to give her school laptop back (she's a teacher).
And THEN: the very next day after I found out about the fraud charges and said I was Monamana/Monica, Nate turned on that episode of Friends. It's been at least a year or two since the last time Nate and I watched Friends and it's been months since we watched any TV show together (he was always swimming--oh, and he beat his goal of 26 seconds for the 50-Free, he gets 25's regularly--he's got that passion for it now), but there it was, just starting, the one where Monica becomes Monamana and takes dance lessons and tries out for a Broadway play with the girl who stole her identity.
So I'm laughing. And there's more, too much to tell. This is already so choppy, I know. Maybe I'll fix it later. Well, you know about my debit/credit card being declined...that's resolved, too (our bank wasn't used to us using it so much and in two different states...). As of last night my phone went out. Today I was online "chatting" with a tech to try to fix it for an hour and a half. I was typing, running back to the computer room to troubleshoot for/with JOHN--checking wires, unplugging, plugging, finding the right port, etc. and making dinner for Grace. I'm coo-coo for cocoa puffs! It's still not fixed. It will be at least two days. Please, if you are trying to call me, don't leave a message because I can't get to them.
My point and the reason I am laughing is because I know it's not just funny or weird that this has happened. Twice. Ten years ago my life was going through an overhaul. I was separated from my husband, Donnie. I was completely changing my career path by attending nursing school. I was getting a new identity (but fighting it back then; I fought with myself a lot in those days, which is partly why the process to get it straighened out was so rocky, right?).
This time, I'm flowing with the changes. JOHN said I was "easy to work with". I got a good laugh out of that since, to me, none of it seemed easy...I was already laughing at myself because it's like a maze of wires back there, I know nothing about any of it... anyway, when he typed that, I laughed more. Thanks again wherever you are, JOHN.
I've been in the process of transformation for two and a half years--since the day I decided to be a writer in August of 2007. I am looking at this as a sign of culmination. This is the year I will get an agent and finally be published and paid for the work I've been doing. I just know it. Right when I found out from Saks Fifth Avenue security that someone from London was trying to use my name and Master Card to by a pair of $532 Gucci loafers,(I guess because I'd never shopped at Saks in my life is what tipped them off--and they were the first to notify me, not my card company, thanks Saks security--), I was stunned more at the fact that this was the second time in ten years that someone stole my identity. And I knew that I had to pay attention. An hour later, after speaking to someone from the credit card company, who told me about the trip to Italy, the notebook computer... I knew. This will be a pivotal year. I'm on my way to being able to afford a trip to Italy, regular hiking trips, an iPod or MP3 player, or something like that (I LOVE music and I'm still using a boom box and CDs--our stereo is out, too)and my very own notebook computer.
We must remember to laugh. Even when things seem to be going wrong--there's a reason. Just have faith and laugh and enjoy the growth.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Date Night
Friday night I received the unexpected gift of freedom when my dear friend, Donnie (who also used to be my husband), invited Grace to stay the night at his house with him and Nathan. What's a single-parent to do when she suddenly has no kids for the night? Go on a date with myself, of course.
I had been wanting to see a movie at the theater for some time so I chose the one that is best seen on the big screen since I didn't know when I'd have the chance again: Avatar. It worked out perfectly that I was able to make it to the cheap "Twilite" show because when I tried to pay the $7 for the ticket and "3-D technology" my credit/debit card was declined. I had $13 cash and my plan was to get a bite after the show or/and go write or read at Starbucks or something. I wouldn't be able to do both now, but as it turned out I was pretty tired and not up to going to Starbucks after the show anyway.
Oh, the card was declined for security reasons that I will write about in another blog (my identity was recently stolen from an international fraud ring--I was in the process of getting it resolved...that particular card being invloved was something new, but I wouldn't let myself worry about it on my night out with myself).
After the movie I went to get some carry-out at the new Thai place near my house which closes at 9pm; it was 8:40 and the very sweet owner informed me that they had just run out of pad thai noodles did I want anything else? A second declined credit card; no more pad thai noodles? Hmmm. What was going on? I went for a dish called Kow Bai Gra Pow (basil fried rice with vegees, which the owner charged me $6 instead of $6.50, so nice) with tofu. I like spicy, but not so spicy that it messes up the enjoyment of the food for me, so I got "mild" spice since, to me, their mild is more like medium. I'm basing that off of the type of salsas I buy--medium--some kick, but nothing that makes my nose and eyes run.
It was a crisp, clear night so I invited myself to eat the carry-out on our front porch swing so I could listen to the wind chimes and gaze up at the bright stars. It didn't last long. Five minutes? Maybe. Between the cold Michigan breezes and the "mild" spice of the Kow Bai Gra Pow, my sinuses were singing for sweet mercy that not even the swigs of almond milk after each bite could provide. I asked myself amidst sniffles and teary eyes, Should we just go in?
I said, Yeah, we can be cozy on the couch with a book instead.
I imagined that if Joel were there, we would've gone in to watch TV or another movie together...or something else (Oh how I miss that something else with him). But I was content to be with myself and not have to worry about what the kids want to do, or bedtime routines, or getting up to requests from Grace for this or that, or any of it. I could let myself do whatever I wanted for the first time in a very long time and it felt good.
I really liked the basil rice dish, but it was so HOT. I figured they were in such a hurry to serve everyone (it was crowded at the Thai place, there was one cook and the owner running the rest), so I thought the cook must have made a mistake and dumped too much hot pepper into my dish. It finally occurred to me that maybe the red and yellow peppers in the dish were not sweet peppers. I tasted a single red one, HOT. And a single yellow one, also HOT. I chortled and shnortled at myself knowing Joel would've loved to have been with me to laugh it up, too.
If we are single-parents and have a spouse working in another state or country, or if we are single-parent who does not have a boyfriend or girlfriend, we can still have an enjoyable evening away from our kids to recharge our batteries and connect with ourselves.
I had been wanting to see a movie at the theater for some time so I chose the one that is best seen on the big screen since I didn't know when I'd have the chance again: Avatar. It worked out perfectly that I was able to make it to the cheap "Twilite" show because when I tried to pay the $7 for the ticket and "3-D technology" my credit/debit card was declined. I had $13 cash and my plan was to get a bite after the show or/and go write or read at Starbucks or something. I wouldn't be able to do both now, but as it turned out I was pretty tired and not up to going to Starbucks after the show anyway.
Oh, the card was declined for security reasons that I will write about in another blog (my identity was recently stolen from an international fraud ring--I was in the process of getting it resolved...that particular card being invloved was something new, but I wouldn't let myself worry about it on my night out with myself).
After the movie I went to get some carry-out at the new Thai place near my house which closes at 9pm; it was 8:40 and the very sweet owner informed me that they had just run out of pad thai noodles did I want anything else? A second declined credit card; no more pad thai noodles? Hmmm. What was going on? I went for a dish called Kow Bai Gra Pow (basil fried rice with vegees, which the owner charged me $6 instead of $6.50, so nice) with tofu. I like spicy, but not so spicy that it messes up the enjoyment of the food for me, so I got "mild" spice since, to me, their mild is more like medium. I'm basing that off of the type of salsas I buy--medium--some kick, but nothing that makes my nose and eyes run.
It was a crisp, clear night so I invited myself to eat the carry-out on our front porch swing so I could listen to the wind chimes and gaze up at the bright stars. It didn't last long. Five minutes? Maybe. Between the cold Michigan breezes and the "mild" spice of the Kow Bai Gra Pow, my sinuses were singing for sweet mercy that not even the swigs of almond milk after each bite could provide. I asked myself amidst sniffles and teary eyes, Should we just go in?
I said, Yeah, we can be cozy on the couch with a book instead.
I imagined that if Joel were there, we would've gone in to watch TV or another movie together...or something else (Oh how I miss that something else with him). But I was content to be with myself and not have to worry about what the kids want to do, or bedtime routines, or getting up to requests from Grace for this or that, or any of it. I could let myself do whatever I wanted for the first time in a very long time and it felt good.
I really liked the basil rice dish, but it was so HOT. I figured they were in such a hurry to serve everyone (it was crowded at the Thai place, there was one cook and the owner running the rest), so I thought the cook must have made a mistake and dumped too much hot pepper into my dish. It finally occurred to me that maybe the red and yellow peppers in the dish were not sweet peppers. I tasted a single red one, HOT. And a single yellow one, also HOT. I chortled and shnortled at myself knowing Joel would've loved to have been with me to laugh it up, too.
If we are single-parents and have a spouse working in another state or country, or if we are single-parent who does not have a boyfriend or girlfriend, we can still have an enjoyable evening away from our kids to recharge our batteries and connect with ourselves.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Strengthening Our Affinities
For those of you that are doing what I'm doing--holding down the fort while your spouse is away for x number of months or years--this one is for you.
I know that some days are so hard. If you have little ones it can be even harder. You have to be strong and positive for them; and when you do get to see your spouse, most, if not all of the time is focused on family. It's important for the kids to spend special alone time with their usually absent parent. It's important for us as husbands and wives, too, but we know it is more important for our kids; it wasn't their choice to accept a job that takes one parent far away, it was our choice. Of course, we made that decision because we thought it was for the best in the long run but we must be prepared to accept the consequences of our choices, right? Yes...
One consequence of having your spouse far, far away is that you will miss them in a way that is reminiscent of your courting days when you couldn't bear to be apart for one full day, let alone two years. Give or take. And I'm sure most people are like us and can't afford to visit often since the cost of flying back and forth, combined with maintaining two households (granted his is much cheaper since he shares a place with 3 other guys--but then that left so little room for privacy when we visited him--it's a catch-22, a give-and-take...you make the best of it), combined with the fact that if you made this decision (to accept a job so far away), it probably meant that you were in financial dire straights to start with, right? Most likely. So where does that leave us?
With love letters, of course.
When Joel and I were first dating, he lived about 40 minutes away; we wrote notes and love letters to each other often. And still, when we lived together, we left notes for each other regularly.
Since he's been gone these last 14 months, I've taken up the practice of writing letters to him again. Admittedly, not as often as I had imagined I would; but probably more than most people in these days of texting and emails and twitter. I just wrote one today. Thanks to Ellen DeGeneres, I have started watching American Idol for the first time. I love that guy, Lee Dewyze. He sang "Chasing Cars" last week and made me cry; he brought Joel right back to me in that aching moment. Lee's version of that song is part of what inspired me to write the letter to Joel today. Although the dreams I had last night might have had something to do with it, too. Nothing too crazy, just sweet. I love my husband and I miss him.
If you are feeling the same and you haven't tried pen and paper yet, give it a shot. You can pour your heart and soul out onto that paper, and your husband or wife will love it. They will love to discover it in their mailbox, they will love to read the words that your hand wrote, and they will love to hold the paper that your hands once held. They will even love that they can keep it and show it (well, maybe not certain letters) to their kids or grandkids later in life. If nothing else, they will appreciate knowing that you took time out in your day to do something just for them.
We can stregthen our affinities no matter how far apart we are.
I know that some days are so hard. If you have little ones it can be even harder. You have to be strong and positive for them; and when you do get to see your spouse, most, if not all of the time is focused on family. It's important for the kids to spend special alone time with their usually absent parent. It's important for us as husbands and wives, too, but we know it is more important for our kids; it wasn't their choice to accept a job that takes one parent far away, it was our choice. Of course, we made that decision because we thought it was for the best in the long run but we must be prepared to accept the consequences of our choices, right? Yes...
One consequence of having your spouse far, far away is that you will miss them in a way that is reminiscent of your courting days when you couldn't bear to be apart for one full day, let alone two years. Give or take. And I'm sure most people are like us and can't afford to visit often since the cost of flying back and forth, combined with maintaining two households (granted his is much cheaper since he shares a place with 3 other guys--but then that left so little room for privacy when we visited him--it's a catch-22, a give-and-take...you make the best of it), combined with the fact that if you made this decision (to accept a job so far away), it probably meant that you were in financial dire straights to start with, right? Most likely. So where does that leave us?
With love letters, of course.
When Joel and I were first dating, he lived about 40 minutes away; we wrote notes and love letters to each other often. And still, when we lived together, we left notes for each other regularly.
Since he's been gone these last 14 months, I've taken up the practice of writing letters to him again. Admittedly, not as often as I had imagined I would; but probably more than most people in these days of texting and emails and twitter. I just wrote one today. Thanks to Ellen DeGeneres, I have started watching American Idol for the first time. I love that guy, Lee Dewyze. He sang "Chasing Cars" last week and made me cry; he brought Joel right back to me in that aching moment. Lee's version of that song is part of what inspired me to write the letter to Joel today. Although the dreams I had last night might have had something to do with it, too. Nothing too crazy, just sweet. I love my husband and I miss him.
If you are feeling the same and you haven't tried pen and paper yet, give it a shot. You can pour your heart and soul out onto that paper, and your husband or wife will love it. They will love to discover it in their mailbox, they will love to read the words that your hand wrote, and they will love to hold the paper that your hands once held. They will even love that they can keep it and show it (well, maybe not certain letters) to their kids or grandkids later in life. If nothing else, they will appreciate knowing that you took time out in your day to do something just for them.
We can stregthen our affinities no matter how far apart we are.
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