Tag: ponderings

Birth Date

There are records in a village of Mexico that state that a girl was born. A home birth, common to the land. No gender reveal, no birth announcement, no baby shower, no pictures on social media or elsewhere. Oh, how things have changed.

“Back in the day” is now part of my vocabulary. Who would have thought I would still be here today, 53 years later.

As Job, I have thought, “I should have never been born” or “what is the point”. Crazy brain! You know, for such a mess up like me, I like to think I did something “right”. Yes, I’m learning to shift through the crazy muck in my chaotic brain…an ongoing process. In the midst of it all I have had the privilege and joy of being a Mom. Four humans that lived, some for a very short time, in my womb. A miracle indeed!

Last year my son and his girlfriend treated my hubby and I to a fancy dinner overlooking the ocean. The sunset took my breath away. For a moment “everything” was alright. The vastness and beauty of the ocean reminds me of God’s amazing mercy and grace. Beauty in the midst of gutting pain.

After dinner we took a stroll down the malencon of La Paz, Baja…so refreshing. We ended the evening laughing and dancing under the stars. For a moment “everything” was normal, although one is deeply aware it’s a new normal. And, somewhere in it all, it feels perfect. A beautiful evening etched on my heart. Beauty for ashes, indeed.

So TODAY I am grateful that:

  • My husband doesn’t know the pain of widowhood
  • My son doesn’t know the pain of being an orphan

AND, somewhere amidst the thick fog, together, we will find a “lantern” to light up another moment in time.

A hug, a smile…laughter.

Listening to the beat of their heart

 

Birthdays

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you…” I better stop singing before I mess it up. Yes, it’s happened! Yes, I cried. End of story…oh, wait, I’m just getting started. Anywho, birthdays…goodness, how could such a subject conjure up all sorts of reactions and emotions? I tell ya, there’s nothing light and simple anymore…or has there ever been?

Can I just express my opinion about birthdays? Yes! I’m glad you approve…haha! What in the world has happened to birthday parties, people?!?! The venue, the entertainment, the decor…omygoodness gracious, one would have to sell their first born to afford such a feat. Wait, what if your first born is the birthday celebrated? Well, never mind. Let’s get back to the story. Quinceañeras are no longer a little girl with a simple white dress at a mass y una comida. Oh no, it’s a huge production. You’d think it’s the royal wedding. And, them cakes! Seriously?!?! Are they even eatable? I’d take a Betty Crocker, moist devils food cake with milk chocolate frosting ANY DAY over some of these “plastic” pieces of art. Ah, my Angie would always bake me a cake 😦

My “happy” birthday memory bank is, well, not very active. I do remember my Mom would always be the first to wish me happy birthday. And, I remember turning 15, which for some reason is a “magical” number in my culture. However, I had already managed to mess things up bringing shame to the family. The Runaway had begrudgingly been accepted back. Shunned because her innocence had been lost. Funny thing is that her innocence had been long gone. Taken in their own home by one of their own. I guess it was easier to blame a stranger…I guess. Let’s just say it wasn’t The Waltons. There was an attempt to celebrate this “magical” age in a girls life. Still not sure why? Cause it was anything but a “happy birthday”. Yup, Porcelain Doll was in full attire. A picture with a cake is cause for a flood of memories, a deluge of triggers which should be avoided.

There is that 50th birthday, though. Quite the marker, so I decided to celebrate. It was GOOD. Then there was my last birthday with my beautiful girl. She was nearing her end. Being who she was, she “decided” that she would fight to stay awake all day so that she could spend it celebrating me. Her eating was almost at a stand still, yet, she sat up and had a piece of pie with us. It was her Momma’s birthday and she would do all in her power to make it a special one, and SHE DID!

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you…”

maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren’t that bad after all…

Good Friday✝️

“You don’t know my son. He is a fighter…” (queue the dramatic music) “There’s a heart beat!” gasp! The kid lives. Another miracle for the books. Prayers answered. They walk into the sunset. And live happily ever after…

S — C — R — E — E — C — H ⇒⇒⇒

What if “the kid” dies? Yeah, mayor GASP! That would be a different kinda finale. No best seller. No stellar premier. No front page news. Just a total dud…a flop.

Spoiler Alert – EVERYBODY DIES. No magical kiss to revive the “sleeper”. No mantra or prayer or magic juice can raise the dead. The fat lady has sung, gone home and is not coming back – EVER! Yes, indeed, reality sucks!

If – – – – – – that is all there was, then I’d numb myself with a substance and throw caution to the wind, cause it doesn’t matter anyway.

Ah, but, let me tell you about a “man” who came down and dwelt among us. Who was killed and buried. No happily ever after in the land of the temporal. However, that was not The End. No! No fairy-tale-ending here, cause those endings don’t bring hope beyond the grave. This Man did what no one else has done, nor will do. He conquered our last enemy – DEATH!

The Grave is Empty

One day all sorrow and pain will be done away. My tears will be wiped away by the One who will carry me to the end. I’d say that’s a very GOOD FRIDAY✝️🖤🌼

Grayness

Motivation Monday! How does one wrap it’s brain around such a lively subject? How does one who lives in a constant state of blah, get motivated to even move? Who would stand in line to watch a dud? Who would pay money to see a flop? Yeah, no headlines here!

The come-back-kid. The rags to riches. The from nothing to somethings are the ones who get the applause, the adulation, the pats on the back. Never disappointing. Always pushing through.

What if the dark abyss is more inviting? What if it beckons one to enter in and never look back? What if in the midst of all the colors of the rainbow, grayness is ones go to spot? Do I repulse you? Do I annoy you? Do I disappoint you?

Can you fix me? Can you pull me out? Do you even want to try…anymore? Like a sling, always coming back to the same-ol-blah.

Stagnant…Monotone…same-old-song.

 

What if…

…What if I’m just…Me

What if I don’t break any records or become famous or stand before crowds

What if contentment is just being “here”

What if I’m not keeping up with the Joneses or trying to be like the Kardashians

What if fulfillment is just being “present”

What if I stopped regretting yesterday or fearing tomorrow

What if joy is for today…?

Perspective – Perspective – Perspective

“Teach us to realize the brevity of life,
    so that we may grow in wisdom.” ~ Psalm 90:12

Mourning

Mourning began the day of your diagnosis, and so it went…

your body, your face…changing before my eyes. somber faces all around, unable to tell me what I “knew” was coming…BUT had no idea the train wreck it would be.

oh, there was laughter and glimmers of hope, BUT  sorrow and grief were waiting at the door. Ah, the tsunami that would soon engulf me…no way to prepare.

your body, a shell of what it had been. your face, tiny, ashy. your eyes, sunken, shut. your mouth…no more sounds. how? why? ugh!!!

Mourning continued…BUT, oh what awaited, who can prepare?!?!

cold, horridly cold…a shiver shaking my body…that hasn’t stopped

relentless reel playing over and over…your little body placed in a bag. a dark, cold van. a white box – why?!?! how is this even possible?

AND then the inevitable. You know it’s coming, BUT…

the white box, that contains your earthly shell – so precious – is lowered, covered AND you are forever GONE!!!

Unraveled! Undone! Short Circuited! Forever Changed!

Almost twenty-three months…mourning continues…

it will continue until the day we are together, AGAIN ❤

Ocean Waves

The sound of the pounding waves ~ ~ calming…soothing

drowning out my weary soul

Pounding, wave after wave ~ ~ crashing…soothing

at the break of dawn…sunrise ringing in a new day

His mercies are new every morning

a welcomed sight to my numb soul

The vastness of these waters cannot drown out love

it magnifies it

it amplifies it

Take it in, oh hurting soul…drink deeply and be refreshed

 

Stuck

The path has been riddled with puddles of quicksand. No warning signs, no brights lights signaling its upcoming presence. Step, step…STUCK! Step, step…STUCK! In my clear, unstuck moments I’m aware of those that “turn-on” the light and give me a hand, or literally carry me on to the next step…even when I am “done”, with no fight in me.

♥⇒My husband. how? why? does he get tired? will he get tired? gentle, quiet…my man! 35 years and counting…what grace!

♥⇒My Son. he needs his Mom. I need him. he is dealing with the loss of his sister and a Mom that often, checks out. what goes through his mind? does he feel like he’s not good enough to keep me going? is he pressured? is he afraid? my gentle giant! my boy! 34 years old and counting…what grace!

♥⇒My Son’s Girlfriend. loves me. respects me. cares for me. makes me laugh. cries with me. makes me feel so incredibly important. drops everything and sits with me as I spiral, vomiting chaos…AND she is simply there. her presence settles me. her hugs squeeze life into me. how? why? she doesn’t have to? Counting the days, months and years…what grace!

My friend who dropped everything and sat with me at coffee. That roller coaster conversation, with deep lows and huge highs. Sparks, tears and laughs. No judgment. No pat answers. Just grace. My Grieving Friend who spends hours with me on the phone, because distance prevents us from sitting with each other. Twenty years into her journey, which scares the poop out of me, because I can’t even fathom the thought of being without my daughter one moment further. Yet, she speaks Angie’s name, remembers her, talks about her and allows me to talk and talk, and repeat myself over and over…cause one cannot say the story enough. She does, however, remind me and shows me that “it” does get softer. My massage therapist, who is a gift. She not only takes care of this “balled-up-crackly” body, but speaks life into me. As I was leaving from my massage she held me and told me, “You matter! You bless me! Don’t give up! I’m praying for you!” She squeezed me and held me. What grace!

♥⇒My Lifelong Buddy. goofy and all, she demonstrates an unwavering strength of love and loyalty. she doesn’t retreat. she doesn’t stay away from the ugly. she barges in and stays. she constantly puts soft “sponges” on the sharp edges of this porcupine.

God shows up everywhere, surrounding me with these amazing humans. Showering me with love and care. Oh, mercy and grace to sit here and type and breath and take one more step♥

~ Spring always follows Winter  ~

If…

If the coldness & deadness of winter was all there was,

then I’d be stuck in The Path

If the pain & discomfort of childbearing was it’s end,

then I’d miss the joy of a New Life

If the worm infested grave was The End,

then I’d have no purpose for Living

🖤HOPE – beyond the here and now🖤

✝️HOPE – beyond the grave✝️