Holes in the Wall

In efforts to prepare for a visit from my father-in-law and his wife, I panicked and had a serious 'If You Give a Mouse a Cookie' moment. I adore visits from my father-in-law. But I do have to step up my Homemaker game when he's in town. Bathroom cabinets are organized, base boards dusted, meals organized and prepared. All I wanted to do was hide the wi-fi cords. But, hiding the cords meant moving the surge protector. Moving the surge protector prompted a shelf shuffle. The shelf shuffle required the removal of a curtain tie-back. The removal of the curtain tie-back resulted in four glaring holes in the wall. One week til arrival and now the room requires a complete room repaint all for a small collection of cables.

He loves us regardless of the condition of our home. Made me ponder past relationships that I would over nurture and images I sought to portray to ensure my seemingly fragile social status. Ultimately, I learned, I could be the juiciest peach in the orchard and someone will still not like peaches. I could clean til my fingers bled and someone will still spot something I missed. I could carry the sweetest smile and speak the kindest words, and someone will still find fault. I'll have a chat with father-in-law and laugh about how silly I was, reminding him that every waking moment is spent spoiling my children at baseball games and shuffling them to friend visits. One day, when the house is quiet and the kids are gone, I'll have a pristine house...until then, my windows will be dirty, the floors have puppy prints, and you may or may not find a cereal bowl hidden in my son's bedroom. Until then, I'm talking myself off the cleaning ledge and looking forward to a visit with four extra holes in the wall.

Challenge - Intentional Schedules

We're in full blown baseball mode...practice every week day but Wednesday and tournaments on the weekends.  This busy schedule has forced me to become very intentional with my extra time...weighing out every appointment, chore, task, visit.  Seems the more time I have, the more time I waste.  This trimmed schedule allows me to only add the most crucial tasks. 

Not too long ago, I volunteered for everything...saying yes to all.  Standing in as Mentor Mom for our local M.O.P.S. crew, organized merchants for the York Bloom Art Market,  filled my brain and soul
at Bible study, joined a Knitting and Crocheting club, and sat in on the newborn meetings of our local donation center.  Unsure why at the time, I began to retreat and empty my plate of activities feeling over-occupied.  Then Mom got really sick. Suddenly, the need to clear decks made sense.  Ready to add things back to my plate, I'm finding myself extremely selective.  Things that once interested me,  no longer carry the same luster.  So, I pause...I ponder...I pray.  Adding in only the best, most important things.  Time is super precious and I don't want to waste a single drop. 

This selective process has made me reexamine what exactly makes me happy...not simply laugh, but truly make me happy.  It's a tough question I'm still dissecting. 

So, this week I enforced a 2-day limit to volunteering, cheered like mad at five baseball games, reconnected with an old friend, and carved out time with a new friend.   Two more unused furniture pieces departed, while I added extra workouts to accommodate holiday gnoshing and upcoming beach visits.  I was able to stay dry eyed when I heard Mom's funeral song, but got misty when Melissa Rivers recounted her last moments with Joan, climbing into the bed with her.  I count this week in the good column.

Challenge - Mother's Day

This first week of May, counting down to Mother's Day, was filled with nervous expectation... similar to facing a massive cavity fill.  Knowing it would pinch, sear, ache but there was nothing you could do to stop it.  A year of first's then perhaps the ache would cease.  Saturday found me cheering on the sidelines in a day full of baseball games.  Not quite 100%... a little off.  Sitting in the glaring sun, no nearby trees, I spotted several Maple tree spinners spiral from the sky...gifts from Mom.  My family home has a massive Maple that drops ungodly amounts of seedlings, spinners, helicopters.  So
overwhelming and annoying.  Leaving so much to sweep that once, my Mom even attempted to vacuum them up.  It didn't fare so well for the vacuum.  I knew right away my little heaven sent spinners were a little inside joke. 

Mothers day came with an all day heaviness.  Head not even off pillow and tears falling.  Dear friends sent early texts checking on me, sending love.  Twenty-four hours of that forgetful belly-ache...as if I'd forgotten to call her then the sad realization that I no longer had that task. 

On a high note, Tim gave me the best distraction ever...tickets to see Prince that Mother's Day in Baltimore.  For the first time in months, I was excited, thrilled, cheering, smiling, I may or may not have even shed a few excited-fan-style tears of joy.  It was great evening.  I am truly blessed with a thoughtful hubby!

Four months have passed and I worry I'm sounding like a broken record...how much time is acceptable to grieve before friends and family have had enough?  When does the happy-guilt end?  This writing, it has become my therapy.  If I am helping anyone in this process it's myself...anyone else is simply a welcome ride-along. 

Challenge - Long Road Home

This week presented a long hometown trek to visit family the first time since her funeral. I planned a visit with my Great Aunt Bootsie before too much time slipped by. Realizing I had procrastinated this trip. The road so familiar now reminded me of hospital trips. No longer feeling that anxious anticipation to get home...no more umbilical pull...as if I was headed somewhere foreign. Found myself anxious, defensive, offensive...how will Dad appear? Has he been keeping up with bills and his health? Will the house be a wreck? Still angry with grandma for not attending funeral. Bit the bullet and made most difficult stop first...Dad, brother and grandma all present. Dad seemed alert, happy, organized. Brother proudly busy. Grandma weaker still and paper thin. Talks of forgiveness truly hitting the pavement in true form. Smile and spread joy, love. Quick visit then off to Pepper Road...busy niece is asleep fresh from the night shift. Too excited to wait, I awaken her for hugs. She is filling Mom's shoes too well...helping keep Dad fed and house cleaned. Funny, I no longer have the compulsive desire to help clean.

Afternoon spent with Bootsie enjoying lunch but we both notice an obvious absence. Long quiet

pauses fill our chats. We both miss her so. We visit her gravesite together...brother, sister, and grandbabes visit often to place flowers and release balloons but I don't find her there. Just dirt and faded plastic flowers. Laying out favorite lilacs while Bootsie pulls weeds...her own compulsive desire then we're off. Excited to see what flowers are emerging at Bootsie's beautiful garden...Mom always enjoyed lingering there , too. She shares her blooms with me to grow at home. She's excited to have the company and I sense she doesn't want me to leave...”just one more thing”. Sadly, we part after numerous I love you's and I begin the long return trek. The trip not nearly as bad as anticipated...life has continued.

Challenge - Week Nine

Over two months into my challenge and honestly, it would be so much easier to revert to old-Lisa. Not that old-Lisa was all that bad compared to some, but trying to be intentional with every blessed thing is definitely requires more energy, more thoughtfulness. Most days, it would be much easier to put the kids on the bus and stay in my jammies all day long. But at days end, I feel guilty, uber unproductive, and have no exciting stories to report to the family. Every good thing seems to include struggle...most days, I don't want to exercise and do my devotions, but historically, I know I'm a wreck without both. So, I hunker down and finish the tasks. Feeling immediately better, I attack the day on a positive vibe. I'm motivated to make that lunch date with a new friend. I attack my chores with new found vigor. I call my sweet Aunt Bootsie and set a date for a long overdue visit before months have passed and busy-ness occupies my calendar.

Last weekend was testosterone filled...Celebrating sons birthday by playing paintball followed by a Sunday of baseball. I hadn't played paintball since a random social event in college...but this Mother tore it up! It was crazy thrilling...I jumped, dived, hid, crawled, provided cover fire, and pelted six 13 year olds. Exilarating. As I strolled between courses in my many paint stained layers ( to prevent painful stings), I noticed many cute, paint-free moms sitting sidelines. They gave me the once over as I stood a little taller knowing I had participated...I got dirty for my little man...I didn't even consider there was an option to do otherwise.

One day, too soon, I may not have baseball games to watch and cheer or a fabulous excuse to play paintball.  He won't want to play with me anymore. Til then, I'll continue to make memories for the both of us.

Praise

My previous pain gauge was childbirth. “Will this tattoo hurt? I've had two children, nothing can hurt as much as that”. My new bar has become watching a parent die...nothing can hurt as much as that. It'll be four months soon, and I can still picture her taking those final breaths...arching her head back against the top right portion of the pillow. Glad I am the only one to carry that image. Glad that it was only me...no wailing, no gnashing of teeth on her part, mine, or any other family member. But looking back, the room itself always carried a peaceful atmosphere. Those closest to me noticed I omitted obvious drama from my daily reports. It surely circled, but never landed in the room...hallway conversations, stressful briefs, worry, sadness, confusion. Her thankful mindset and the uplifting praise music set the precedent. Nothing else mattered.

Tapping into that same mindset on a daily basis is no easy task. The path of least resistance is to feel nothing...so easy to turn it all off and withdraw from every single thing. But what kind of legacy would I be manifesting? This being positive thing takes work. So, I take lead from my Mom...I play praise music. I've read that scripture is stronger than a double edged sword...able to cut thru bone and marrow. Wouldn't musical verse have the same affect? It speaks life and changes perspective...I've seen it happen with my children. Sour moods become helpful, lighter.

Regardless of my situation, regardless of my surroundings, regardless of my fickle energy level and mood, I have unlimited access to joy...anywhere, anytime. Instead of changing the situation, I change. I simply need to press play and offer up my praise...Thank you for my husband, thank you for my children, thank you for our health, thank you for our work, thank you for our church, thank you for our friends, thank you for the food we eat, thank you for our warm beds, thank you even for my dog. To that giant pile of laundry which will tie me to the washer all day long, thank you for the blessed abundance of clothing options. To the rain that so often falls in April, thank you for my beautiful green grass and emerging flowers. To the neighbor that never secures his recycling, thank you that we have healthy legs and hands to retrieve the clutter. Seemingly negative situations will never change...but my attitude towards them certainly can.

Challenge - Time for Self & Others

Learning that there are close friends dealing with issues bigger than mine, shaking off the blues, I pulled up my britches, helped a friend and began volunteering at my church donation center. It felt good...like soul-satisfying kinda good. One task less for my friend to complete and an opportunity to help others in more dire straits than my own. Like everything else, though, there is balance to be found. Never wanting to be mindlessly busy. Never wanting to become the self-less martyr. Finding if I start with stillness, asking if the task is mine, I can filter out the tasks that are best left for others. Balancing helping others with making time for myself was delicate. So much of what I do, what any mother does, is for others...family, friends, church, community. I craved and sought out something solely for me this week and found it in Yoga. Setting up my mat, block, blankets, quieting my mind while waiting patiently for the teacher to instruct me. Praying hands to heart, I set my intention...instant tears. What IS my intention? Not just for that hour of Yoga, but for Life in general. Am I flitting around, untethered, from one event or crisis to another? Tabling that deep thought for another time and moving from one pose to another. Balance and I are not best friends, so all I could do was concentrate on holding still. No awareness of others in the room, not concerned that they might scoff my angles or judge my poses. The post Yoga Shavasna is my favorite part...an hour of intention towards every muscle ends with complete stillness. Pushing aside busy mind chatter of tasks, concerns, conversations, only hearing my breath. All tension melts away. Left feeling such peace and ready to filter out the unimportant from my list. Another first for me this season was hitting the ground running, literally. Tim and I went for a hearty run thru the neighborhood...my first run in over a year. It wasn't pretty. The final stretch includes a Mt. Everest climb up the hill parallel to our home. My mailbox is the finish line and I ceremoniously threw my hands up in celebration/relief while desperately gasping for air. Not a glamorous look, but it was complete and it was all for me. Deciding that my schedule needs to allow equal time for me and for others. Time to refill the tank so I can properly love.