Glimmers of hope...

It has been a bleak and difficult time lately. I have more to do than humanly possible. There are classes that frustrate and leave me unfulfilled. Difficult and hurtful crappy situations permeate the lives of others whom I love. There are work relationships that make even simple tasks difficult. Clients have crises, push boundaries, or are doing good work that is still hard. My Granny is very very ill (she was in ICU on Monday until Tuesday morning) and in the hospital, while my parents, aunts, and uncles rally around her to combat her illness, unkind and neglectful hospital staff members, and their own struggles with the same brutal stomach flu. I am far away and feel helpless to support all of them.

My mother's church has the rumblings of discontent, some of it directed at her. In 10 days, my husband and I find out the fate of where we will be living next year, and then will have to face the losses associated with wherever we live. Marriage is rewarding but hard, and requires more work than not right now. I struggle with feelings of anxiety and depression amidst and seemingly endless winter that is more brutal and snow filled than I care to deal with.

But today, today was good. I am encouraged by how my family comes together during a time of crisis. How sacrificial and loving they all can be for the sake of a single member or the overall family. That my husband surprised me not only with a dozen roses, but with a card listing 100 reasons why he loves me, real reasons that one could only know after nearly 8 years together. Reasons that are idiosyncratic, intimate, and truthful. For friends who support and listen and laugh and love me, and let me do the same for them. Mentors and supervisors who invest in me and make time for supporting me amidst hard and difficult times. For making progress on dissertation and coming closer to closing a big chapter of my life in a way that feels rewarding and complete.

I am thankful for God, whose grace permeates even the darkest of places and the driest of deserts, and who knows of all types of suffering and sits well with me in it. A God who repeatedly welcomes me back, despite my continual betrayals and affairs. In this season of Lent, I am called to repentance and long long long for the joy of redemption and resurrection.

The Mother in my Inbox

My parents did a great number of things right when raising my brother and I. Even more than right, they did some things spectacularly. Other things, well, like all parents, their baggage in some ways became ours.

One area where my parents weren't quite sure how to react was my weight. Never obese, I was always slightly larger than most other girls. I was taller from a young age, often mistaken for a child instead of my toddler 2 or 3 year old self. My mother got dirty looks for carrying me around. I remember conversations that my parents had with me, informing me that it looked bad for me to have a temper tantrum because I was 3 but I LOOKED 6. So stop it already.

Shopping for Easter and Christmas dresses was the worst. I remember berating myself in the mirror of the dressing room for not looking good enough as young as the age of 8. I went on my first diet at the age of 9. A 9 year old counting servings on a weight watchers plan, counting up her optional calories to have half a snickers bar. Sick, I tell ya.

I always had enough self-respect to fight back from the control and rejection. But, I also had enough self-esteem not to starve myself or to purge. So, I ate. Whatever I wanted, I ate. Thus, today I am a 14 not the 8 or 10 I'd be at a healthier weight. It's still wrapped up in issues of rebellion and self-loathing that I continuously battle. Add in my PCOS, and you get a nice one-two punch contributing to my excess weight that I both love and hate.

This year, when my mother renewed her Prevention subscription, she got two free gift subscriptions. Lucky me, I got one. She claims she sent it to my brother, too. (Seriously?) Now I get all of these emails in my inbox from Prevention telling me how to have summer arms, bikini stomachs, and toned thighs. It's like having my mother in my inbox. I'm sending her to SPAM.

The Bonds of Matrimony

Lately, I've been enjoying the minutiae of marriage. The way in which my partner, who rises much earlier than I, covers up the cat vomit with a paper towel so that I won't step in it. Remembering laughing in bed last night, but not remembering what about. The way he always does the laundry, scoops the cat litter box, and manages our Netflix queue and library requests. How he's so quiet in public, but thinks and write deeply and shares those things with me at home.

How he calls me "smokin' hot wife" even when I've only worn various combinations of pajamas, workout clothes, and non descript tshirts in this final week of breathing before school begins again. How he tells me to "take a nap" when I'm tired, or to "stop cleaning already, we won't die if there's water spots on the sink." How he finds obscure music, books, movies, and television shows that make me grow and think outside of myself. How his desk looks neat, but I know the hoarding mess that's within its drawers (well, maybe I'm not loving that...but amusedly smirking how some things never change). How he will fight with me when I become too big for my britches, and make me mix cd's full of angry songs when I'm processing through a needed angry time.

I love the joy on his face about our new DVD recorder, and his insatiable committment to watching "Countdown," "The Daily Show," and "The Colbert Report" although it annoys me at times. How when he comes home from work today, me in my ratty clothes with no dinner made, he'll be just as in love with me as the days when I tart myself up and cook a real dinner. That he notices when I tart myself up and cook a real dinner.

And its all these small things that make marriage a joy worth fighting for during those times when marriage isn't easy. When you're on each other's last nerve, the checking account is overdrawn, and your single friends seem to have a freedom that you gave up years ago. When he did this or she did that, it's hard to see or remember the covered up cat vomit and the sweetness in it. So, right now I'm enjoying the details, and thanking my partner for them.

You know you're a bookworm when...

We're heading back overseas for a few weeks. (Thanks for keeping our house and kitties dear friends, if you read this.) I had to call the local library because hubby realized that one of the magazines that we returned was still showing as checked out on his account. Okay! Okay! It was mine, and it was People. Sigh. I can't help it.

When I called, they asked for the name of the account. I said "Last Name". The lady responded, oh, is it Hubby's Name Last Name? Yes, the library knows him by name. He's famous. Or infamous. Or really nerdy in a sexy way, if smelling like books and conspiracy theory is your thing. And it's mine, so it all works out.

I have a younger cousin (14 years old), and I found this on her mySpace. It's embarrassing to me for her...lol. I can remember these days.

It's Friday, I'm in Love
Category: Romance and Relationships

Hmm.
Well I've been with *name* for nearly a month now.
and you know what?
It feels great.
He's like amazing.<3
I'm really, truly in love with him and I love him with all my heart!
And *name*, if you read this..I love you!
Hmm.
Some people may find this embarrassing, but I just want everyone to know that...
IT'S FRIDAY! I'M IN LOVE!
It's not Friday....but...whatever.

10:57 PM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment
*Name*


And your still in love :)
its evry day of my life that im in love, with you.
I want evry1 who reads this blog to understand she is mine!
i love her!
u can shoot the gun but the bullet has to go through me!
IDK what to sayim a lil embarassed by how dumb i sound baby :) compared to suc wonderful words! :D
I give it 2 kudos!!!!
I love you soo much!
i dont need you for what all those guys talk bout I NEED YOU for your love and how you ake me feel! :D
IDK! babe i just wanna... i just wanna give it all up and leave evrything behind for you!
Start mine, no our own life!
Its incredible how u make me feel, the love, the happiness, the pain , the sweet long night phone talks, and especially the ones where i know we are far away and i fel like right next to you!
I LOVE EVERY SINGLE MOMENT that we have together
IM dong gr8 baby :P
i dont wanna lose you so... whoever reads these comments and these blogs... SHES GOT ME AND I GOT HER!
SHE'S all MINE and i'M all HERS!
I LOVE YOU!!!
Your boyfriend,
*Name*

More Ephemera

I'm officially an old married woman. Today I got 2...TWO!...calls from friends who are newly married or in long term relationships. One was the standard bladder infection what to do. One was an inquiry into how to fix it when you're the one who has screwed up relationally. What a wise old fat crone I am.

Today a friend reminded me of how old I'm starting to feel. Our telephone shocked me with an electrical current. Friend asked if the phone was old. After thinking, I had to admit the phone is nearly 5 years old. It was a wedding gift. I'm no longer a newlywed. This is happy and sad all at once.

I spoke with both my father and brother today. Both of them are pretty down on life, and I don't think they even realize it. I hoped talking to each of them would help me feel reconnected to home, and encouraged that life after graduate school is somewhat more cheery and bright and enjoyable than now. But, they did not provide this for me. I guess I might have to ask that God guy to teach me about hope and joy, rather than looking to others to provide it.

Yes, I have spent most of the day on the phone. I've been catching up with friends and family. It's a smashing way to avoid writing psych reports, as well.

And another thing...

I have a younger cousing who will turn 14 next week. She's in 8th grade. She's the only child of my mom's younger sister. Aunt S was like a second mom to me while I was growing up, I love her, and my cousin. Via my cousin's MySpace page, I found out what she got for Christmas:

Laptop. laptop case, book, North Face Coat and a LABELERRRR!!!


OKay, I know that this was not a hard purchase financially for my aunt and uncle. But, good grief! Not that it's the same world, but I didn't get a laptop until I bought one to share with my husband this year at the age of 26. I bought my North Face coat for half price at a going out of business sale, and I had to save for a year for it still in college. And, darnit, why didn't I ask for a labeller?

To each his own, but I see my cousin headed for a life of spoiledom. Moreover, what the heck is she doing posting a bulletin on MySpace for all her friends to know what she got? I am from a rural area, I can bet you money very few if any kids got near what she did for Christmas. Sigh.

Hold the wheel and drive. Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there.

Being a UPS driver is what defines much about my father. Daddy always smelled slightly like burnt fuel, cardboard, and sweat. When I think of him, my mental picture is of him in his browns, smiling. He smiled a lot when I was a kid, even if he wasn't always happy.

Those browns were his uniform in most domains of my life. Daddy might have worked seemingly endless days and nights, but he coached my softball team. He showed up for school events. I remember waiting to see him hurrying across the field in that distinctive brown uniform. Hurrying to write out the batting lineup before the game. Hurrying to make it to my basketball game before the second half. Hurrying to awards night. Hurrying to church youth group. Always in those browns.

Daddy was not always an easy man to need. His struggle with depression and his anger hurt me as a child. I got yelled at. Spanked out of anger. Called names. I feared one day his anger would consume him. He'd have a heart attack. He'd die. He'd leave and never come back. He threatened to do any and all of those things at times. It was not easy.

Things got better. Medication helped. Daddy has spent the last several years growing, changing, regretting. Apologizing. Loving. Able to express the side of him that was obscured by his depression and rage for much of my childhood. It has been amazing to get to know the man who is so much like me. I always wondered who I was like in my family. Now I know. I have a father who I can relate to. We are affectionate these days. Like we are making up for those lost years where he raged. That time when my passion, my strong will, and my defiance were intolerable to him has been redeemed. I see his delight in me, my life, my joys, when we talk.

I remember other lessons with him dressed in those browns. Pulling me out to the garage to teach me how to change my spark plugs, change the oil, build something, fix something. He was dressed in those browns at every family dinner during the week before going outside with us kids to mow the yard, or to practice my softball swing, or my brother's jump shot. He even got that high school boyfriend of mine a UPS hat, the one he hated so much because the guy treated me poorly.

Daddy wearing those browns put me through college with a company scholarship. I remember how insulted he was that one year, when I was dating this jerk of a guy in college. Daddy got that guy a job at Christmastime working at UPS, and then jerk guy was too embarrassed to go out to dinner with my family after work wearing those browns. My dad knew what it meant, he wasn't just ashamed of his uniform, he was ashamed of Daddy.

The biggest accomplishment in Daddy's life is his safe driving. When he hit 25 years without an accident, there was a big to do. A company party, a nice blazer, a free vacation. The "Circle of Honor" they call it. I remember every year, my dad perusing the company reward catalog for his safe driving award for the year. The entertainment center in my parents' den. The under cabinet radio sitting in our storage unit, as we have no place to put it. Daddy and the whole family poring over that catalog, trying to choose the only type of bonus he ever got.

And those driving skills have saved our asses a few times. Daddy's skills were the difference between fiery crash and a close call on some family vacations. The way he taught me to drive still echoes in my head from time to time in sticky situations.

Daddy kinda feels like the outsider sometimes. Unlike Mama, my brother, and I, he doesn't like to read or think about big things. He does not think highly of himself. He struggled to finish high school, but his children both have graduate degrees. His wife at times has been a writer, a painter, a minister. Daddy does not see his ability to build over half of our house, or to fix most things as impressive. He thinks he's a dim bulb compared to all the shining stars in his family. But, he has his 27 years safe driving.

Until yesterday. It was a fender bender. The witnesses left, so no one to testify to whose fault it was, and the accident is inconclusive. No one was hurt, thank God. He didn't get fired, but only because he does have so many years of service under his belt. Now, for 12 whole months, one slip up, one ticket, one accident...on the job or off, and he loses his job. And definitely no more cool vacation, no more perusing the catalog. Daddy saying things like, "Driving is the one thing I'm good at, and now I'm not good at that."

I cried when I found out. Not out of disappointment. But out of shared sadness at the hurt, the injury of something key to one's identity. But I can't wait to get home for Thanksgiving. To give Daddy a hug. To tell him, no matter how many years of safe driving he has or doesn't have, that he has one of the most amazing accomplisments of all: that I feel completely loved and honored to have such an amazing man be my Daddy.

The greatest compliment anyone has ever given you...

Today, on Eric and Kathy in the morning, on 101.9 The Mix, they were naming questions you should ask every first date. One of those questions was "What's the greatest compliment someone has ever given you?"

I could think of a few meaningful moments to share, but then this afternoon my mom gave me a gift. She gave me the greatest compliment that I have ever had.

"You've broadened my picture of what a Christian is. Your horizon looks much different than mine, and I think that I like the way yours looks more than mine. You see much farther. I look at my horizon, and I see people like Jerry Falwell, and I'm fed up."

Thanks, Mama.