two birthdays

It always seemed fitting my mother and brother Tim shared the same birthday: Today, March 22. I can't explain the bond they shared. It wasn't blatant, just a quiet understanding between them.  While my sister and I spend most of our childhoods vying for own voices in the family, Timmie seemed to have his just by being. He and my mom were alike in so many ways, both possessing independent natures that profoundly directed the courses of their lives. Their longing spirits led both of them to live outside of their own homelands: Mom from Germany to the States to marry my dad; and Timmie from the States to Germany to join the Air Force - as if he had a calling to explore the part of himself that came from her. He got to know mom's German family, became fluent in her language, and walked the same streets as she walked as a young girl. How proud she must have been!

I can't imagine losing one of my babies, and it makes sense to none of us that my mother lost hers. And while years have passed and much of her pain has been replaced by really great things, I know the birthday bond is still there. My prayer for my mother is that the sadness is replaced by happy memories of the boy - and man - she raised.  He was the best person I ever knew, and I know my mom would multiply that statement by a million. Happy birthday to both of them!

a really good therapist

I'll admit it, I've spent many hours on the couch in a therapist's office.  I remember telling her during those horrid days of seven years ago that I felt broken and unfixable. I wanted her to erase the disappointment and anger and make everything great again ... after all, she was the expert. It was almost frustrating the way she'd just listen to me rant on and on, only offering feeble retorts like "How did that make you feel?" "Duh. It made me feel like crap and that's why I'm sitting here paying you $80/hour!!! Just tell me how to make my life OK and I'll be out of your hair!" Well, we all know that's not how it works. The aha moments came to me all on my own. Slower than I wanted, but they came. Thank God for my wonderful therapist - an angel on earth - and her amazing listening skills.

Life has offered up a new batch of crap in recent months, and sometimes I feel I need to make another appointment. But this new, fresh pain brought me instead to my current prayer spot of choice: a tree stump on the grounds of a hillside overlooking the great pacific. I shut off the ipod and waited for my answer. "Just tell me how to make my life OK and I'll be out of your hair," I demand. I sat there for a half-hour, and while peaceful and serene, not a wise word was offered. "What do you want from me? 80 bucks an hour?!" I got up, near disgust, and was greeted by the cutest little lab puppy who undoubtably had a master not far behind I'd have to interact with. To my surprise it was my good girlfriend and her husband taking a Saturday stroll. It would take at least one separate blog entry to tell you how much I love this woman. A relatively new friend, her amazing depth and willingness to reach out has proven to be one of the great joys in my life. We hugged, chatted briefly, parted ways. Seeing her right then and there I realized I had my answer - partially, at least. "More of this."

Friends and family have offered me well-meaning advice in recent days, and a large part of my turmoil involves deciding whether or not to follow it. They want me to have the marriage ceremony, the white-picket fence, and the happily ever after and they see no indications of these things happening in my current situation. But ending this 3-year relationship would wipe out a huge source of unconditional love in my life, the depth of which only I can measure. My well-meaning sources really have no idea. It is clear that my situation does not fit tidily into anyone's preconceived notions of a committed relationship - but does that make it invalid?

I smiled on the walk home reflecting on the simple joy of bumping into a really good friend. I spotted a family of deer, as I often do in my foresty neighborhood. Nine times out of ten it is a mother deer with her two foals. I always see this scene as God's little reminder that my primary role in life is that of mother-deer  - to see that my children are fed, protected, and well-raised, even at my own sacrifice. In all of my decisions, this comes first, I again confirm.

I must also nurture the other unconditional loves in my life: Friends, family, partner - all of whom completely have my back. Who's to say they aren't all of equal importance? I'm reduced to tears when I think of the value of the lot I've been given.

Like a good therapist, God just keeps listening. The answers are coming.

Solitude sitting

Crossroads

Unique growth.

Transformation in progress.

Emerging.

In bloom.

Laura Marling - A Creature I Don't Know

Night After Night

I don't stand for the devil
I don't whisper in ears
I stand on the mountains
And call people to hear

It's a tempting communion
It's a fate foretold
It is knowing
It is knowing - what it is that you're told

the aftermath

"Where's the rock I crawl under to go and die?"
- Mayim Bailik (TV's "Blossom") on the show "What Not to Wear"

I'd been dreading the day. Monday was the court hearing to finally resolve child support issues with my ex. He lost his high paying job last year and is now working as a construction subcontractor, his income significantly reduced (at least on paper). While I did my best to convince the judge of our dire need for the support amount we were previously receiving, she pretty much went with what was reflected on the financial statements in front of her. Oh, and apparently, after you've been divorced seven years and have still not remarried, the court thinks you're no longer entitled to spousal support. My daughter and I took a pretty big financial hit.

I drove away from the courthouse frantically trying to come up with a plan to make my life work. There had to be an answer. I could .... Or I could ... Nope. I'm pretty much screwed. So I resorted to prayer. I think God especially hears the "I got nothing else here, so I'm turning to you ... on my knees" kind of prayers. Well, as close to on my knees as I could get while driving a car. He got an earful of fervent prayer and screaming on that ride.

I made a stop at Costco before heading home. Only orange juice and toilet paper, I decided in the parking lot before going in. Things are different now — I cannot let myself be sucked in by all the wonderful products. My cell phone rang and it was my son. He learned he lost his $20,000 scholarship due to his less-than-stellar grades the first semester of college, and he was making the difficult call to tell his mom.

Really God? Just when everything was going so well? In the past five months the boy's moved out, landed a job, fallen in love, started college, possessed the promise of a great future, and has been more confident than I've ever seen him. Now you're gonna do this?

It occurred to me that all that had happened in the courtroom an hour earlier wasn't such a huge deal in comparison. I've often been financially challenged and emerged just fine — and I have great support systems ... I got this. But my baby is hurting and my mother instinct is kicking in big time.I drafted a desperate letter to the scholarship foundation pleading they reconsider. They needed to know the extenuating circumstances. They needed to know I raised an amazing young man who just  bit off more than he could chew in his first semester. He WILL go on to do amazing things and is SO worth investing in! As of yet I have not heard back from them.

I well know that sometimes you need to feel the ground giving in beneath you and make the necessary adjustments to really discover the truth about yourself. The higher the points of the quake on the Richter Scale, the greater the amount of truth realized — at least that's how it's gone down for me. It's from that honest place, while you're climbing out of the hole, that those really good life decisions can be made.

But why can't it be different for my little boy?

Photo by Melissa Mathieson

Panda Express Guy

Monday came and went and already it had been a rough week at the office. It's great to have a steady, paying job in this economy, but it's also increasingly clear that my work situation is a prime example of the fallout from said economy - one person doing the job of two or three. I left that evening after a hard day's toil with untouched piles of folders on my desk, coworkers who needed much more from me then I had time or energy to give them, and a magazine that surely wouldn't hit the stands on deadline. I don't think I smiled once.

I sat at Panda Express with my daughter that night waiting for my son to arrive.  I couldn't stop watching this kid working at the counter - you know, the guy who greets you as you walk in and asks you how many entrees you want and whether you want fried rice or chow mein? I never expect much from the workforce of today's youth, but here was an energetic, hispanic kid who couldn't have been more than 20 with a smile and energy level that was off the charts. "What can I get for you tonight?" he asked everyone enthusiastically. He was patient, helpful, and somehow able to establish a rapport with each person who appeared in front of him. People were smiling, laughing - many of whom no doubt had had a day like mine. When my son finally arrived and we made our way to the front of the line, the guy asked us, "Would you guys like a sample of our Beijing Beef?" He looked my son straight in the eye, "Hey why not, it's free, man."  My boy, never easy to win over, flashed his best smile and reached for the toothpick. I can't adequately explain it, but this guy made it like a party in that place. It was infectious.

How much could this kid be making? Eight-fifty an hour, tops? And how long had he been working before we arrived? Probably hours. The place was packed and the line at the counter had to work at mock speed to keep metal containers filled with orange chicken and broccoli beef. Made no matter to this guy. He was just lovin' life back there. I pictured some wealthy executive coming in for a meal, noticing this guy, and hiring him as marketing manager right there on the spot.

I decided to go into work the next day with a smile on my face. I was going to be helpful, cheerful, and make it about my coworkers instead of all about me and my impossible work situation. I was going to actually talk to them about their lives. I was going to enjoy my circumstance with these amazing people I get to work with every day. I have continued this approach each day since. You may have guessed it has turned out to be a really good week.

stories

“You get old and you realize there are no answers, just stories.” 
― Garrison Keillor, Pontoon: A Lake Wobegon Novel


Yesterday was my birthday and I can honestly say it was one of the less painful January tenths I've experienced in years. I can't exactly explain why. I tried being a little depressed, as is my usual birthday ritual. This date has never failed to conjure up thoughts of my own inadequecies: "I'm not near where I wanted to be in my life at this age," "Whatever good looks I once had are rapidly fading," "Why didn't (fill in the blank) remember my birthday?" and the ever popular, "Just end this day and kill me now."


True, I wouldn't have chosen many of the events that have led up to my life's current point in time. But I have accumulated great stories along the way featuring good over evil, triumph over tragedy, good comedy, and by all indications, a happy ending. I'm glad I've chosen to share them. Never mind the wrinkles around my eyes, the fact that I've never been to Paris, or that I am not a homeowner at age 48. My lofty goals have been replaced by an authentic existence right here in this place, punctuated by deep and growing friendships. Nothing to whine about. Nothing at all.




* Photo by Melissa Mathieson

a hymn — and hope — for the new year

“Hope
Smiles from the threshold of the year to come,
Whispering 'it will be happier'...” 

— Alfred Lord Tennyson

January Hymn, by Colin Meloy/The Decemberists

On a winter Sunday I go
To clear away the snow
And green the ground below

April all an ocean away
Is this the better way to spend the day?
Keeping the winter at bay

What were the words I meant to say before you left?
When I could see your breath lead where you were going to

Maybe I should just let it be
and maybe it will all come back to me
Sing oh January oh!

How I lived a childhood in snow
And all my teens in tow
Stuffed in strata of glow

Hail the winter days after dark
Wandering the gray memorial park
A fleeting beating of hearts

What were the words I meant to say before she left?
When I could see her breath lead where she was going to

Maybe I should just let it be
And maybe it will all come back to me
Sing oh Janu...
Oh January oh