Draw What You See

Sirens racing past.  Two police cars, another unmarked and one ambulance.  I'm picking up dinner as I see them pass, wondering what could be going on in our small town.  The ten o'clock news reveals that there is a hostage situation at our county jail.  It is the same county jail that I have volunteered at for the last five years.  It is where I will be in just a few short hours.

A local detective who has worked closely with animal control has been placed on administrative leave without pay, pending investigation of misconduct.  My husband has worked with him for years.  He has always respected him. 

In high school, I took an art class.  I wanted desperately to be an artist.  But, I could not draw.  I was a serious coloring book aficionado, growing up.  But, drawing left me frustrated.  In our very first class, the teacher gave us each a huge sketching pad and pencil, placed an object in the front of the room and said, "draw what you see." 

That was it.  As she walked around the room, I stopped her and said, "I just can't seem to do this."  She looked at me and smiled, "draw what you see."  And that is all that I got for the rest of the year.

It wasn't until I began to write and I was told, "Don't tell me, show me", that I started to understand my problem.  As I began to put on paper what I actually saw, separating it from the way that I felt, I realized how often I saw with my head instead of my eyes. 

What do I actually see?  How has my perception colored what is?

A friend posted her son's " one second movie" on Facebook.  There is an app where you record one second each day for a year and then it creates a movie from your collection of one second videos.  It was so interesting that I decided to buy the app and make my own movie.  My friend's son is a professional; not only was his movie very good, he made it look easy.

He pointed out that this app, helped him to look for the good in each day.  It's true.  I am more observant.  I am always on guard for that moment--a second that is worthy of interest. But, for me, it also helped me to see that a random moment probably isn't so random.

And, perhaps I am learning that what I see has many more layers.  And, separating what I see from what I feel has tremendous value.  Maybe that is why I write.  Maybe seeing with my head and my heart are just as important to the story.  Maybe that is why I have so many questions. 

As the mother of a recovering addict and alcoholic, staying in each moment and realizing that I can't "see" beyond what is within the scope of my vision or the confines of my heart and mind has given me tremendous freedom.  It also helps me to be responsible with my moments--my seconds of each day that all too often, I tend to take for granted.

This post may be a bit random.  But, sometimes these seemingly arbitrary moments won't leave my thoughts.   When that happens, I usually know that there must be a nugget of value in them.  Why did my mind tie advice from a high school teacher to yesterday's news and a friend's FB post? 

To me this is fascinating.  It is a part of why I love to write.  I hope that you will capture what is special about your day and unearth what the moment has for you to learn.

Feeling grateful for the lessons learned in recovery and this community.  I'll take time today to pray for Henry--yours and mine.





 

The Sky is Falling

An unfamiliar number showed up on the caller ID yesterday on our house phone.  Skeptical, I answered it anyway.  I'm not sure why we keep our home phone other than that number is on every form that I have ever filled out in the last twenty years.  Most calls  coming to that number are either a sales call or a robo call.

The recorded voice began their sales pitch about caring for the needs of the elderly.  They went on to discuss preparations for burial.  I thought to myself, 'they don't do very good research....I'm only 50'.  Then it dawned on me, they did do their research......oh my gosh I am 50!  They want me to prepare for MY FINAL EXPENSES! 

It's a little crazy, I know.  Or maybe, I'm a little crazy....I know that too.  There are days that in my mind, I am still young.  I hear myself saying that I am fifty years old and it shocks even me.  Then there are days when my body feels that I must be close to one hundred long years old. 

My body has been screaming at me to get healthy.  You are probably entering the "too much information zone" but IBS is killing me.  I had been thinking in crazy circles, swinging from maybe I'll give up diet coke to maybe I should call the doctor to 'oh my gosh, I probably have colon cancer.  (It's not pretty, but it's my usual route of thinking.......I've survived a lot of imagined cancer scares, ya'll).

So, while I'm having my morning coffee with Splenda, worrying about the caffeine and artificial sweetener that I can't seem to quit consuming, this segment appears on the Today Show about WHOLE 30. 

The woman who was talking about her experience with whole 30, named EVERY SINGLE SYMPTON that I was having.  Then she mentioned that she had lost fifty pounds and was off of every single medicine.  I was listening.  But, it sounded a lot like one of those Paleo type diets and I am no hunter or gatherer.

Then, I thought about my aunt whose life ended far too soon because of colon cancer.  I felt as if at fifty the bloating, if it continued, would send me into the maternity section of most stores just so that I could fit into something other than sweat pants.  How embarrassing would that be?  I'm getting calls about preparing for burial......I'm a little too far from the bringing new life in stage.

So, I got online and read about it.  This program started by two nutritionist takes you off of several large groups of foods (dairy, legumes, sugar...yes, I consider it a food group) for thirty days.  This gives your gut time to heal and then very slowly you start re-introducing the other groups one at a time to see which group gives you the most trouble. 

Thirty days.....I asked my son for thirty days at rehab.  Actually, he spent sixty.  Why couldn't' I commit thirty days for the sake of my health?  My Al-Anon began to kick in.  I needed to take care of myself.  So I headed to Barnes and Noble and bought the book and am now on Day 4.

Those writers really know their stuff.  They tell you every possible negative thing to expect.  They tell you to stay off the scale for the entire thirty days.  They explain that it takes almost two weeks for the inflammation in your colon to subside which really helped me to realize that it would take time to see this through.

I'm feeling better.  I still have some issues.  But, each day seems a little better.  They predicted that your tastes will adjust.  And since I have had no sugar or sweetener of any kind in four days, I love the taste of water.  How strange is that?  I've always had to force water.

This has always been a big obstacle for me.  But, I feel good and committed trying to commit thirty days to it.  I also want to see my writing project through.  It is another 'big ticket' item on my inventory that I need to see through despite my fears. 

Yesterday at the jail, I showed the movie, "When Love is not Enough"  to the inmates.  It is the Lois Wilson story and it is a really good movie.  I show it once a semester.  Each time, I am able to hear more.  I noticed when Lois was reading the twelve steps, near movie's end, that they are showing scenes of her service with the last three steps.  This is also where she decides to go to Bedford Hills even without Bill because this is what it means to take care of herself.

It is in caring for yourself, that you are able to care for others.  So that is exactly what I'm trying to do.  I'm praying for Henry this morning.....and all of you.



 

Numb

"Well Mama, I think we have finally become numb."  The Dad said over our lunch, last Friday.
We were traveling to Columbus Ohio to the Dad's thirty year veterinary school reunion when I received a call from a bail bondsman letting me know that the son had been arrested for a DUI, his second in a month.

The Son has worked very hard to stay off of drugs.  But, he hasn't yet accepted his powerlessness over alcohol.  We did not bail him out, this time.  We did not try to manage his consequences.  This time, we tried to manage our lives, instead.

As I sat over lunch I thought about it, numb was the perfect adjective.  I didn't feel anything.  I didn't feel the panic, that I might have felt early on.  I didn't feel all that surprised.  Parents/loved ones know when the distance of addiction is present.  And, we know that something is probably brewing just over the horizon.

Instead of changing our plans to hover over the latest crisis, we went on our trip, taking in each activity with gratitude.  We stopped for lunch at a Jerry's restaurant, one that we had eaten at many times while growing up because it was the only restaurant in Elizabethtown KY.  I'd like to say that we didn't worry at all, but you would all know how impossibly untrue that can be. 

We stopped in Lexington Kentucky at the historic Keeneland Race Course and watched a few races while enjoying the beautiful sunshine that blanketed the still green pastures of central Kentucky.  From there we headed north and once we crossed the Ohio river we took in a little Cincinnati style chili at Skyline Chili.  Finally we finished our journey north by arriving at our hotel in Columbus.

The next morning after breakfast, we went to the All American Quarter Horse Congress, a show that is the culmination of all of the American Quarter Horse show season where the best of the best compete.  When my mind tried to return to the illusion of what I'd like to control, I would try to steer it in the direction of  'what am I to learn from today for my life.'  Then we had a little Rotola's pizza, the Dad's favorite from vet school and a trip to Barnes and Noble--what trip is complete without a new book or two?

We went back to the room and I read while he watched THE Ohio State cream Rutgers.  Then we headed to the reunion.  We visited and chatted.  Most were strangers to me.  At one point the Dad whispered in my ear, " Are you okay?"

Quite automatically I responded, "Yes, I am, now that I know who I am."

I'm not sure why that came out.  But, if I think about it, knowing who you really are instead of being the extension of others releases any fear that I might have had before. 

Post addiction, I can go to the reunion and see those who are posturing and think, "Bless their hearts" and enjoy those who are just want to touch base with old classmates.  Knowing who I am is a perpetual exercise in understanding intention.

That exercise allowed me to come to a place where I can let this place that we find ourselves in be about recognizing that this is his disease to figure out.  I will love him....enough to stop offering advice.  I will trust enough that I will allow him the space to feel God's presence and help. 

Numb, yes to the old fears and worries but yet hopeful.  Hopeful that like me, he will start to know who and whose he is and finally to know that that is all that really matters.

Praying for us all.  Praying for Henry.





 

The Past Meets the Future

We drove thru Mississippi several times each year when I was growing up.  At Memphis the terrain looked different.  My mother was from Tupelo.  My aunt lived in Jackson.  I loved the beautiful pine trees and the hanging moss trees that dotted the low flat roadways.  Tobacco and corn gave way to cotton and sorghum.  I always wondered about Billie Joe McCalister as I crossed the Tallahatchie River.  The visits with my cousins were fun and a little exotic to a girl from such a small town in Kentucky.  I memorized the drive.

Cousin and I saw the movie "Grease" four times one summer until Uncle found out and put a stop to it!!  We delivered the Clairon Ledger early in the morning wearing shorts and t-shirts and rollers in our hair.  We rode bikes to the pool and ice cream shop and sometimes to Kroger to buy shrimp off a truck that brought it fresh from the gulf each day.

The last time that I made that trip was twenty-seven years ago to be a bridesmaid in my cousins wedding.  The church was a beautiful stone building right across the street from the state capitol building in Jackson.

Big Sister is going to grad school.  She will be a doctoral student at Louisiana Tech University.  The first trip we made, we went thru Arkansas.  It was exhausting.  The second trip, we drove thru Jackson and went west thru Vicksburg on past Monroe to Ruston.  Memories began to flood back into my mind. 

My daughter would travel these same roads that me and my mother did.  She was going as far away from home that the Dad and I did just twenty-nine years ago.  The past was meeting the future.  Wonder how it's all connected?  Does it mean anything?

We moved Big Sister into her apartment.  She hung a mirror on the wall by the front door.  One last glance before heading out to be sure the hair is just right before going out.  But as I caught a glance of myself taking one last load up her stairs I didn't see myself in that mirror.  I saw an older woman that looked an awful lot like my mother.

Time marches on.  Time marches on.  Trying to live in this moment.  Even though my mind is caught up in the past.  In April, all three kids were at home.  We asked the son to leave a month ago.  He is where he needs to be to decide the kind of life that he wishes to live.  Big Sister is making her way far away.  Little sister begins school one week from today.

Our full crazy house will be quiet again.  I am sad and I am glad.  Not sure how to think or feel but going to keep praying. 





 

Autumn

Yesterday's rain brought a drop in the dew point which means instant relief from the humidity here in middle Tennessee.  Between a change in the temperature and a steady stream of Facebook feed pictures of school aged children all holding signs stating the first day of school for which ever grade they happen to find themselves entering, I feel a shift in the seasons.

I have no little ones heading back to school.  But, the moving rental will come and be loaded to take my oldest daughter to Louisiana to graduate school.  Perhaps she will let me snap her picture with a sign saying, "Grad School or Bust" for me to post.

My youngest daughter will start a new semester of nursing school on the twenty-sixth.  She has only three remaining semesters.  I can easily see the beginning of her new chapter in sight.

The Son has been asked to choose the way in which he wishes to live his life.....but do it away from home.  He has been told that he can figure it out and his father and I did when we were about his age.  I hope he chooses well. 

My mother died in late October sixteen years ago.  She started her decline about this time of year.  As I sit on the porch of the morning and the evening the sounds of crickets and frogs seems to slow.  The biting humidity gives way to a cleaner, dryer air and my body remembers.

Sadness still comes sixteen years later.  An open window with the smells of dried leaves brings to mind that time when I held on tight to every bit of her that I could.  Now it is a new generation that I am releasing. 

I guess that I find my life entering it's own Autumn.  Fatigue helps me accept the new season.  Experience helps me to appreciate it.  Hope helps me to keep looking forward. 

Praying for all of us.

Ramblings

I'm thinking of moving my blog to wordpress.  I'm not certain, but I think I need a fresh look and a fresh start.  I guess I'm having a mid (actually 2/3) life crisis/awakening......  There are just sixty-four days left till I turn FIFTY.  I can't believe it.  I don't feel fifty.  In my mind, I am still young.  Maybe I'm in my late twenties, early thirties max.  But, then I look in the mirror and holy crap, there is a middle aged woman staring back at me.  I went to my hometown this weekend for a bridal shower and  I ran into a few people that I knew from high school and they were old people.  How did this happen?

I'm going to weigh in today.  We missed last week because the meeting was cancelled for snow.  Today the temperature should reach seventy.  Welcome to middle Tennessee weather.  I'm always a little nervous about the weigh in, even though I weigh at home every twelve hours day.   I know I've passed ten pounds as two weeks ago I was at 9.4 lbs.  Just like my dad, who used to will winter away, I am willing the pounds to melt.  And, yes acceptance is something I'm still working on, thank you very much.

Lastly, I'm writing a book.  I've been thinking of doing it for three years.  At first, I wanted to write with some friends.  But, I had enough problems trying to figure out my own part, much less knowing how to coordinate it and organize it with another.  I've never really given up on it.  Maybe, it will be only for my family.  Maybe it will get published.  Whatever will be, will be.  But, these things I decided to do and follow through with in this my fiftieth year. 

I watched Oprah last night.  I watched the first episode of Lindsay (Lindsay Lohan documentary) and her interview with Russell Brandt.  I'm so glad that she (Oprah) is giving attention to the epidemic problem of addiction.  I'm really rooting for Lindsay but how many of you moms out there wanted to swoop in there and clean her hotel room and tell her that she needed to divest herself of all of that STUFF?  Maybe it's just me, but I also wanted to say, "go buy yourself a little cottage in the country or by the ocean......how can you possibly get clear in the noise of the city and with paparazzi?" 

Yes, I still go to Al Anon (regarding previous paragraphs).  But, I think I have such good ideas......Loving the sunshine today!  Hang in there my friends, spring is on it's way.  Praying for you all.
 

Gifts of Addiction

I've been asked to chair the next Al Anon meeting.  That means you lead the meeting and choose a topic for discussion.  Sometimes I need to deal with something in particular such as fear.  But other times I thumb through the index and I wait to see what topic jumps out at me.  This week I didn't really have a pressing need to focus on a particular topic so I started to thumb through the index. 

There were several topics that jumped out at me.  I wrote each of the topics down on a piece of paper.  I thought that maybe I'd take some time to see if one topic spoke to me more than the others.  I believe that Al Anon works that way.  God will choose and I will deliver the topic.  I finally looked at my list and instead of looking at each individual item, I looked at the collection as a whole and realized that they were all gifts of addiction.  You might think that they are gifts of a twelve step program or gifts from my faith or gifts from counseling, but really if it hadn't been for the disease of addiction, I would not have sought the changes learned from each of those avenues. 

Addiction has changed me.  Addiction has made me humble, loving, mindful, accepting,  aware, present and grateful.  Addiction has taught me not to be afraid, judgmental, mind other people's business or expect. 

I'm so grateful that I am in process.  I don't think it ever would have happened without addiction.  Maybe it would have, but addiction did happen and I am changing as a result.  Make no mistake, I would never wish this disease on my son.  But, it did happen and I will be grateful for the gifts that were given in the midst of the heartbreak.  I was wondering if any of you all felt the same way.  If so, what one thing really changed about you?

On another note, I have lost 9.6 lbs....as of last Monday.  I will weigh in tomorrow afternoon at 4pm and I feel as though I've lost another 1-2 lbs.  I'll let you know later.  It is a slow process but I am thankful that I am facing a lifelong struggle. 

My niece just had her fourth child!  Her mom was an alcoholic.  I used to say that she was an alcoholic and my brother's drug of choice was her......I didn't know the term co dependent but I knew what it was....even then.  I'm going to go see her and take her dinner and a ODAT or Courage to Change.  I've never asked her as an adult how she dealt with it.  I guess we didn't talk about it much.  I think it's time I asked.  I'm praying for all of you.

Looking Back on the Past

I just printed off all of the blog posts that I have written since the beginning.  Two hundred forty-four, single spaced pages.  Sometimes I don't like going back to read because it's so hard.  Sometimes I do because I am able to see some progress.  I'm going to go have it collated.  Here is the proof....proof of a long fought battle for quiet acceptance, proof that our awareness was awakened and continues to grow, proof that in a empty space that mainly housed only me and my fears, now resides a  space full of love of God and his will, with me close by allowing him to show me the way to myself. I wonder if any of you guys have ever done the same? 

A new session has begun at the jail.  I met the ladies for the first time on Thursday.  I am only offering a creative writing workshop this time.  I am relieved that I am not facilitating a class that I do not feel qualified to teach.  I guess some could argue that I am not qualified to lead a writing workshop but my goal is mainly encouraging them to look in and question and effectively communicate with themselves and others. 

I watched a great segment on writing obituaries on Saturday.  I must admit that I love reading them.  There has to be some really great stories tucked in those interesting snapshots of a life.  I learned that in Great Britain, their obituaries aren't always flattering.  I've included one of my favorites to give you a "happy" for today. 

Yesterday I got to spend the entire day alone.  To many, that may sound lonely but to me, it is a necessary part of my sanity.  I need quiet to allow myself to look in and be present with my feelings.  Then, I am able to understand them, deal with them and let them go.  I'll probably turn into the odd little blue haired lady who kids are afraid of before it's over.  Oh well.

I'm beginning to day dream about warm coastal breezes.  I fantasize about winning the lottery and packing only an overnight bag and checking flights not for price but warmth, buying a one way flight and staying as long as I feel like it, shopping for the proper clothes when I get there, eating delicious food and taking a huge stake of books.  Can you imagine? 

The son seems to be making progress, lately.  He has a girlfriend who seems very nice.  He is paying bills on his own.  He is visiting family, hanging out with us, talking on the phone with friends while staying in the same room where we are ( I know that a lot of you get how big that is), trying to quit smoking and making future plans. 

Big Sister is working as a vet assistant until the fall when graduate school begins.  She is paying her own way which was a little shocking to her at first but I'm really proud of the job she is doing.  She is even replacing the tires on her car this week.  That is a big financial burden off our plate.  I'm really proud of her.

Little Sister is quite excited about nursing school.  I purchased hot dogs at the grocery store so that she could practice IP shots!!  It's so funny to look at these kids that I remember so vividly as the little characters now enter adulthood taking on grown up responsibilities.  It's been great finally letting them go.  They are so much more than I could ever force them to be.......

This reason we are all here is the darndest thing, isn't it?  It almost broke us and yet, it has changed things in the most wonderful ways.  I guess that is what I will look for when I read about the past. 

Praying for Henry, my family and yours. 





 

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth is, Sister....

I've read a lot about things that help an addict to heal some of the issues which might fuel their addiction (yes I know there is no cure.....my idea was that this falls under the ".....change the things that you can...." idea...no scolding comments, please).  I've read about attachment and shame.  I work (note present tense) the twelve steps continuously, initially of course in an effort to fix my addicted loved ones.  I have read about the need to examine the hurts of childhood and to grieve them and release them.  And, for the most part, I have accepted that I can only fix me.  To that end, I go to Al Anon.  I pray and meditate, I volunteer at the local jail.  I try to mind my own business....through gritted teeth and white knuckles.

But, if I have the hope that my addicted loved ones will take the necessary steps to find serenity in their lives then perhaps it is time for me to do the same.  Late last year I decided to try to enter a study at Vanderbilt University for diabetics not using insulin.  It was a very interesting study in many ways.  Regardless of which group ( control or study group) I would have randomly been selected for, I would have had supervision from a registered dietitian for six months.  Also during that time, I would have four different occasions where they would give me a stimulant and put me in an MRI and PET scan to flash food pictures at me while they watched my brain activity.  How cool is that? 

I had hoped that this focus on healthy eating would help me get my eating ( my addiction) on a path that would lead to a healthy weight, thus a healthier me.  I was DENIED.  I had been feeling really bad and a little hopeless that this problem would ever change.  The fact is diabetes and weight get harder and harder to manage as time goes by.  I was very down. 

You see I am larger than I have ever been.  My family has begged me to get healthy since the kids were little.  They watched both grandmothers go through the awful process of dialysis as their kidneys failed as a result of diabetes and high blood pressure.  And, in May, I turn the big 5-0!!!  I am on medicine for the diabetes, high blood pressure and my heart.  My eyesight is bad and it is harder and harder for them to prescribe the right glasses when my blood sugar runs high.  I was denied participation in the study because of my heart issues (arrhythmia).

My weight has always been a great source of shame for me.  I have never told my husband a number.  That number stifles me.  It means that I am less than.  It means that I am a loser.  It means that I am lazy and undisciplined.  Does all of that self talk remind you of anything?  Well, it did me and so I thought that if I expected my addicted loved ones to deal with it...already, then maybe I should put my money where my mouth is.

On January 1, 2014, I weighed ten pounds more than I did at nine months pregnant with my son.  There it is.  It's not a number yet, but I'm working up the courage for that.  I started trying to eliminate sweets from my diet.  I started to feel a little lighter but I never weighed.  The last week of January, I joined Weight Watchers.  I had done it before and it worked.  But, until now I knew that I wasn't ready.  I don't know what changed other than the fact that I finally associated step one with my weight and began praying about it, because I did not/do not know how to live day in and day out without eating the southern food that I grew up learning to prepare which always, always ends with dessert. 

After week one, I lost four pounds.  I was very excited and hopeful.  Some days were hard.  Some days I didn't totally comply.  But, this time, it was different because when I slipped, I got back up again.  Week two I started and I continued slipping day after day.  I felt pretty bad about the week as a whole.  I had tried as we often do, to make it work the way I wanted it to, plus Super Bowl Sunday was bad no matter how healthy I tried to make it.  I wanted to skip my weigh in.  I did not want to go and face those ladies.  But this time I realized that what I dreaded so intensely is exactly what alcoholics and addicts faced all of the time.  So I went and I weighed in and I gained .8 pound.  And, when I came home, I told my family directly instead of hiding in shame and guilt.

I'm going back too.  I'm trying again, today.  That's what I expect of them.  This morning when I stepped on the scales, I realized that since January 1, I am at my nine month pregnancy weight with my son again.  I'm not the largest anymore.  I'm not as ashamed telling anymore.  People understand.  They relate.  How foolish we can all be my friends.  Welcome to my journey.  You are a safe group to be vulnerable with.

I am happy to report that my little friend from Homeward Bound went to court, paid her fine and has that behind her.  And, when she asked me how she could get a job when she couldn't drive to work, I told her to ask around in her meetings.  I told her that many, many people start out without cars and rely on those who have started out just like she is.  The pre Al Anon me would have looked up job listings, worked out a schedule to pick her up and made my life a living resentful nightmare. 

Happy and Praying....for all of you and your loved ones.





 

A Little of This and a LIttle of That

It's been a frigid week here in middle Tennessee.  The dogs and I are over being stuck inside.  My skin is even drier than usual, I'm shocking everybody and everything that I touch and I'm starting to feel claustrophobic!  But, better days are ahead.  I looked up sunrise and sunset times for our area and learned that the last ten days of this month gain us 15-16 additional minutes of sunlight.  Sunlight is so important to my mood, I have learned.  I'm thinking of buying one of those clocks that gets brighter as morning approaches.

I received so many thoughtful comments on my last post regarding shame that I decided to give another bit of what I learned here.  Someone commented that they thought that shame can be a good thing and it can.  There is normal healthy shame.  Shame is good when it serves as a boundary to protect us.  The book describes an infant who gets embarrassed when a stranger approaches them as one of the first signs of healthy shame.  Feeling guilty when something tastes so good is a great reminder to stop eating before we overindulge. 

Shame becomes toxic when it becomes internalized.  Healthy shame says I made a mistake; toxic shame says I am the mistake.  When shame is internalized a person feels so bad about themselves that they create a false self.  The author of the book is an adult child of an alcoholic and a recovering alcoholic himself.  In one section he uses the twelve steps of AA to to explain how each steps works to restore our relationship to God, self, friend and neighbor through the twelve step program.  Once our relationship is restored to self, there is no need for a false self.  It was such a thoughtful book that it helped me to have a better grasp on what the twelve steps are actually doing in my life.

I had a great day Friday visiting with a cousin.  She has three children.  Two of the three have cystic fibrosis.  So she wanted to start blogging about her experience in the midst of that disease.  We sat with our readers on trying to set up a new word press blog, with neither of us very savvy at setting up a web page.  We fumbled and laughed all day long.  It was so much fun.  Maybe this getting older will afford us more childlike fun.  If you know of someone who battles cystic fibrosis please have them head over to Breath of Heaven and check her out.  She has fourteen years under her belt of first coping and now learning to live with this disease.  And, her journey has been one that has increased her faith, giving her some of the best lessons you can learn.  I'll leave the rest for her to share with you, but it's worth a read.

One last thought, I grew up in a teeny tiny town in western Kentucky on close to seventy-five acres.  My Dad didn't farm by the time I came around but we had the land and it was cherished. But, next door was an older couple named Mamie and Dempsey Dunning.  Dempsey used to wear green Dickies pants and shirt every day.  He sat on his front porch and played his fiddle and sang.  I don't recall if he was any good or not but, what I do remember is how he sang and played with wild abandon.  I also remember how he showed his feelings through that music without regard to what others thought and now I am seeing that that in and of itself was a beautiful thing.  What do you think?

I'm thankful for what God made me to be.  I'm gonna work a little harder to figure out what that is.  I'm proud of my family and thankful for the good and the bad because every bit of those experiences are a tool given for learning.  I'm praying for you guys too.....everyday!

 

Without Condition

Within the last three weeks, the Son has lost two people that he knew from his first rehab experience.  It has been a very sobering experience for all of us.  The Son is very hurt.  Addicts have a really hard time dealing with pain.  He came to visit and things weren't going all that well between us.  The Dad wisely reminded me how difficult it is for an addict to handle pain.  "Pray for him and love him" he said. 

It was the message that I needed.  Fear had me panicking about the way he was behaving.  I was reacting.  But when I was reminded to pray and love, I started to see the Son as someone who was heart broken and afraid.  Instead of looking for what I considered as "right" behavior, I could see him.  I could see his hurt. 

I shut my mouth.  I just loved him.  I prayed for him to have the desire and courage to work towards his own health.  Then out of the blue he started reading one of the many books on recovery that are on our shelves.  He asked if he could take it home. 

Today, he opened up to me more than I EVER remember.  He shared his concerns and let go of some of the toxic feelings that he's so good at carrying around.  It was truly a miracle.  It was an unexpected gift.  And I believe that it all happened because this family is attempting to love the right way.

My mom died 15 years ago today.  I think she's praying for us.  Feeling thankful and praying for Henry and all of you.

The Long and Winding Road

We are at the stage of the game that leads to really good places and really tough places.  We have uncovered so much that was hidden by the anesthesia of drug addiction each day and even though the addiction is "in remission"??  we have other battles ahead.  Anxiety is a big problem.  Getting help for someone who is afraid of taking medication is problematic.  

I have so much to be thankful for but this long and winding road has really begun to wear on me both physically and emotionally.  I feel good about my decisions and then an hour later I question.  I'm really tired.  I don't know how to proceed.  

Today, I say a prayer of thanksgiving that we are dealing with the issues underneath the addiction.  I pray for guidance and strength.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.

My People

Last night oldest daughter texted her dad to watch a show on the Animal Planet called, "Turtle Man".  Dad flipped the channel as I am trying to fall asleep and a fella is walking barefoot through the murky waters of a pond in hopes of "feeling" a snapping turtle.  Apparently, he's pretty good at this.

Dad texts daughter back asking if he's paying for her cable tv or is she?  She replied, "I am" to which he says, "good."  I guess he doesn't feel that this is an important part of her education.  We continue to listen to this guy who is clearly a character and I say where in the world is this guy from?  Hubby says, probably Louisiana...bayou country.  But, the more I listen I begin to think he not only sounds ( regional dialect) but has characteristics of people from mine and hubby's home (Kentucky).  "He's from Kentucky,"  I finally say.  "No, he's not."  hubby says.  About that time, the show comes back from commercial where they mention that he is from the backwoods of Kentucky!!

The dad is stunned that I figured this out.  He reminds me of Ernest T. Bass if you are an Andy Griffith follower.  Today, son and I spent some time together.  I started telling him about some of my AlAnon friends.  Some of them are characters too.  But, I love them.  I am learning to look beyond the exterior and look within because when you do, you might just see something really neat. 

Turtle Man is really an intuitive sort.  He must really have come to understand animal behavior from a lot of observation.  The fact that he's missing a few teeth and makes an odd noise in celebration of his catch just make for good tv. 

I guess you could say that I recognized "my people".  Not all of them are as flamboyant or backwoods but, they are honest and unafraid of who they are.  There's a lot to be said about that. 

Today, I say a prayer of thanksgiving for healing from our past.  I pray for our addicted loved ones and I say a prayer for Henry.

Today's Parable

I

Ever mindful of my life and the lessons before me, I pray that I don't miss the opportunity to learn in the way that Jesus taught us....through the parables in our everyday lives which serve to teach and remind us of who and what we are and what we are called to do.

I sat a lone in my hot attic on this 92 degree day with sweat pouring down the center of my back.  Nineteen years of memories are held here.  I am emptying it in a leap of faith that if I begin the process of moving, the buyers will come.

As I empty the contents, I am thinking of how overwhelming this task will be.  I come up with the plan to :

1.  Get rid of the garbage
2.  Sell that which could be of use to others
3.  Keep what is still of use or a memento

I sit here in the floor looking at the girls American Girl dolls, favorite DVDs, books but not my sons camera, X-Box, computer or guitar because they were sold for drugs.  Downstairs (in the garage below) I hear my daughter sorting the garage sale items, jamming to one of my I tunes;  a favorite from when I was just a young girl...

"Got on board a westbound 747
Didn't think before deciding what to do
Ooh, that talk of opportunities
TV breaks and movies
Rang true
Sure rang true

Seems it never rains in southern California
Seems I've often heard that kind of talk before
It never rains in California
But girl don't they warn ya
It pours, man it pours

Out of work, I'm out of my head
Out of self respect, I'm out of bread
I'm underloved, I'm underfed, I wanna go home
It never rains in California
But girl don't they warn ya
It pours, man it pours"

And then I see this cross pendant laying on the floor right next to what looks like a "straw" used for snorting drugs...

Will you tell the folks back home I nearly made it
Had offers but didn't know which one to take
Please don't tell 'em how you found me
Don't tell 'em how you found me
Gimme a break, give me a break

Seems it never rains in southern California
Seems I've often heard that kind of talk before
It never rains in California
But girl don't they warn ya
It pours, man it pours"

I think to myself, I could take every last item to the dumpster and never look back.  I think I will mourn, again and again.  Until I can relax and surrender what is not to be, what never was, what the road ahead will not include. 

But, today I will throw away the trash both in this attic and in my life.  I will not hold onto what only gathers dust and begins to decay.  I will only take with me, what is of use.

When I look back on the empty space left behind, I will see that cross and that straw and know that I will choose to throw away the straw and hold onto the hope of that cross.  I will not let fear cause me to be too afraid to let go of what might be by refusing to see what is and just deal with it.  In place of the chaos that was my life, I see an openness to what might be.

Realizing how little control I have I will toss pride on the top of the garbage heap along with old expectations and open my eyes and ears to what should be and learn with God's grace, to be grateful.

Today, I feel blessed to have an empty clean attic.  I am thankful for the courage to let go....to so much.  I pray for my son and yours to learn the lessons that God has in store for him/her today and I say a prayer for Henry.

Grumpy Old Woman....

I've been absent for a while.  Hubby is a horse vet and this is the beginning of our busy season.....thanks be to God.  The economy and a tornado a few years back have not been kind to our business. Add Son's slip into our already hectic lives...... a bit like an aftershock, sending us rocking and rolling a bit. 

Luckily, boundaries kicked in at warp speed and his experience with the enforcement of previous boundaries and his level of sobriety and God's grace all helped to curb that storm.

I'm trying so hard to "find" myself.  I keep trying to quit, get fired, retire....maybe like Klinger on Mash, I'll shoot for a section 8?  Any ideas on how to lose your job when you work for the hubby?  Our new girl was just finding her groove when a better offer came along.  Now, I'll be there more than ever. 

The job itself isn't terrible, it's just not "my" thing.  Perhaps it's selfish but I want to do my own thing for once.  I've been mom for 23 yrs and wife for almost 26 yrs.  I've worked for hubby for 18 yrs and been Doc's wife.  I'd just like to figure out who I am while I can still remember! 

I am frustrated with working for some of those privileged clients who stamp their feet wanting what they want, when they want it and threatening   reminding me just how much money they've given to my cause.  It feels like I've sold my soul to the company store. 

I'm frustrated with those who come in hoping to "wow" us with their knowledge.  I like an educated owner who cares for their horses.  A"natural horsemanship" owner came in telling me that she had a book and had figured out what her horses problem was the night before she came in (kept wondering why she came in).   She brought "the book" and ran around the clinic reading sections of it to hubby's assistant and she doesn't get the whole personal bubble thing....  She has her hay analyzed and supplements with all sorts of things she feels are missing.  Purina Feed Mills and their decades of studies have nothing on this person.  I doubt those horses in the wild supplement with sunflower seed and beet pulp.  Seems to me that her natural horsemanship is about as natural as reality TV is real...but that's just me.

I am sick and tired of those women who come in treating me like the help while going overboard being syrupy sweet to hubby.  Do you think that having to put up with watching that  will strike out some of my time in Purgatory?  I think I deserve it, what about you?

Maybe it's burnout.  Maybe I'm not very charitable.  Maybe I should go back to school and get a psychology degree and keep working here.  It would be a magnificent research opportunity.  I know God has a plan for me.  I just can't for the life of me imagine where he's taking me.  And, I'm highly impatient. 

Today I say a prayer of Thanksgiving for progress and not perfection.  I say a prayer for patience and direction.  And I say a prayer for Henry. 

PS Just read "The Camel Knows the Way" by Lorna Kelly  Great book about Lorna Kelly who was the first woman auctioneer at New York's Sotheby's who volunteered in the slums of Calcutta with Mother Teresa.  She is a recovering addict who was brave enough to write about her character defects and an experience and woman who changed the way she looked at her life. 

Aye, Aye,Aye Aye......

I am sitting in a lovely hotel room in San Antonio, Texas, with blisters on my feet from all of the walking  yesterday.  I laid my tennies out to wrap in newspaper so I wouldn't get my clothes dirty when I packed them only to forget to pack them.  This annual meeting for continuing education takes us to a different city every year.  I have learned to trek a Little farther out away from the Gap and the usual homogenized part of the city.  Otherwise, they all begin to look the same.

Yesterday, I went to Goodwill and flea markets and antique malls.  It was great fun.  I also took a cab to the Basilica of the Little Flower where I said prayers for all of you guys.  The cab ride cost me $40.00 which I have to say started to bug me but then I thought, I need to realize that I am paying for an experience and that, I can always carry with me and it doesn't gather dust and clutter my home.

AlAnon and this experience of addiction have taught me a lot about riding the waves.  Just ride it....don't think about every instance in terms of successes or failures, but paths which continue on. 
So, when the mariachi band came over and asked if I'd like a song, I said sure, how nice......until they said that will be $6.00 please.  So, I dug out six bucks and made myself quit growling and I just sang along. 

Today I have great prayers of thanksgiving for this time away, the sunshine and warm temps, for healing of others and a new perspective on life.  I pray for all of our addicted loved ones (active and recovery) and I say a pray for Henry.

Finding Me Day8

"What we do is just a drop of water in the ocean, but remember, the ocean could have been deprived of that little drop of water."  Mother Teresa

Addiction and recovery are spoken of as a journey.  But, our very lives, even if addiction weren't a part of them are also a journey.  We learn through travel.  Traveling requires movement or action.  We can travel like a lame duck and go in a circle.  This is where it's important to accept and be aware that old ways of doing business are taking us to the same destination....nowhere. 

We can travel to new places trying out new things, to see what brings us growth, joy or peace.  One of the most profound lessons that the disease of addiction has taught me is in the appreciation for the little things.  I used to avoid changing because I thought that it meant there needed to be this huge change.  I didn't do things differently because I couldn't appreciate or probably understand the difference that just one little thing makes. 

Mother Teresa is said to have met a very wealthy woman in India who wanted to contribute to the Missionaries of Charity work.  She wanted to make a large demonstrative gift to the Home for the Dying.  Mother Teresa asked her not to do that but instead to buy less expensive saris and the money that she saved she would appreciate very much as a donation.  This act taught her to live daily small acts of charity.

I've always loved the idea of this but have been unsure of how to go about doing it.  I think that God has been trying to send me a tool kit lately and I am so grateful.  It started out with my best friend, the mom to 8 children, 5 of which are adopted.  We usually talk daily in our effort to solve the worlds problems.  She has often mentioned reactive attachment disorder with regard to some of her kids from hard places.  She went to a conference this weekend about attachment needs and tools for healing attachment issues.  Then when hubby and I started counseling our therapy is attachment based.  Then I read a blogging buddy's post about a book on addiction where attachment issues are studied as a root cause of addiction.  I liked that so much that I looked up the authors other works and he had a book on ADD and attachment. 

I don't think this is a coincidence.  Attachment can be healed with many small acts over time that give safety and security to our loved ones.  Eye contact, listening with both your ears and your heart and so many other little things heal.  I am so excited that I read a chapter for about 3 or 4 different books each day. 

Today I am thankful for all of those messengers pointing me in the direction that I need to take.  I pray for the understanding necessary to use this new information.  I pray that we all learn the value of the small acts of love.  And I say a prayer for Henry.

"It is one of the most beautiful compensations of life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself."  Ralph Waldo Emerson


 

Finding Me Day 2

"Poverty doesn't only consist of being hungry for bread, but rather it is a tremendous hunger for human dignity."



I've done a little research on self discovery.  It seems rather odd that I'd need to research who I am but that just about sums up how my life works.  I tease my friend about what a paradox she is and I find that I too may be living in the same conflicting world.

Anyway, in my research, I am told to use my senses to find what brings me joy.  That is easy for sights, smells and tastes, but touch can involve more than the physical touch and hearing can be layered with more than just the words spoken. 

 I tried to remember the times where I felt like I was doing something needed.  In being needed, not used, I feel called to help.  It is an urging or longing.  Even though I'm not really qualified in any particular field of service, sometimes I think that we all just need someone to tell us we can do it. 

The picture above is of a pony foal named Sassy at 7 months old.  She had botulism.  Botulism can be contracted from any decaying matter, whether animal or vegetation (like rolled hay bales).  What happens is the virus (remember I am the vet's wife and didn't go to vet school and my memory seems to lapse more and more) causes the animal to be unable to stand or swallow.  The virus itself doesn't kill, it is the inability to eat or drink or pneumonia that usually kills. 

Sassy's owner didn't know if he could afford treatment and so I said to my husband, "Can't we try to save her if he chooses euthanasia?"  Long story short, we treated her and I do mean we because when you pass an NG tube to tube feed, it is good for the pony to be sternal so that the chance of aspiration is less.  So, his assistants and I would roll this pony's dead weight  up to a sitting position while he fed her 4 times a day for almost 3 weeks.

More than that I would visit her and brush her and cheer her on.  And when she was first able to nibble on her own, I would pull grass from outside for her to munch on.  It seemed to perk her up.I knew that if she survived, she'd be a fighter, and she is.  And, she's not afraid of anything!! 

Here is Sassy today.  I've got a "little" trainer for her and she entered her first dressage show as a 3 yr old this spring but she will probably be a little hunter/jumper when she's old enough.  Dr. Maya Angelou once said that what children need is for you to "light up" when they entered a room.  I wish I had heard that and understood the importance of that long ago.  I can't go back, but no matter their ages, I want to physically light up when they enter the room....because they do light me up....they just need to know that they matter, that they can do it.  I guess it doesn't take a degree to do that.  So, on day two, I'm gonna make an effort to show others how much dignity they have by making them feel like they matter.

Today, I am thankful for this one thing.  I pray for all of our children that they may know that no matter what their past, that they are so important.  I pray for continued strength and vision in this journey and I say a prayer for Henry.















































 

In Search of Me Day One

You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself. ~Alan Alda


Things are changing.  My life is in a bit of limbo.  My son is working and my girls have gone to college.  I no longer work for my husband.  My son is the only one living at home but his work takes him away most of the time.  This is good because it  stops me  helps me not to  get into his business. 

In an effort to get to know just who my 47 year old self is, I try to remain faithful to my AlAnon meetings.  Yesterday, our topic was detachment....always a good one.  Detaching is where I have to try to figure out what is mine and what belongs to the person(s) I am detaching from. 

My fearless leader had a really good rule of thumb.  I liked it so much, I wrote it down.  "When you don't know whose responsibility it is, do nothing", she said.  I have to say that some of the things that I held onto for dear life in my effort to control or fix things, I now enjoy letting go of.  I've started to appreciate giving up the tasks that made my head spin.

When we discuss detaching, we learn a lot of "what not to do's".  But, now what do I do since my life has taken such a radical turn?  Al Anon tells us to take care of ourselves.  We do this by getting to know who we are so that we CAN take care of ourselves. 

But, how do we even start?  My fearless leader had a great thought which she said helped her always.  "If I do any one thing, it gives God the opportunity to do something within me."  Being the big fan of baby steps, I decided that perhaps I could include just one thing extra in my day to allow God the opportunity to show me who I am and perhaps where I needed to go.

I poured over all my books, looking for inspiration when I discovered a little book I have called Love Without Measure.  It's one of those 30 day reflections on the spiritual service of Mother Teresa.  She is my favorite!!  I hope you enjoy this 30 day journey with me.

Day One

"The world today is hungry, not only for bread but hungry for love, hungry to be wanted and loved.

There is nothing new about the invisibility of those who have nothing and the blindness of those who have something, who have everything.  There is nothing new about a prayer of the poor(to me this may also mean the poor in spirit...like our addicted sons and daughters, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers) 

Look at me.

There are millions of us.

But each of us has a name.

See me. 

Know that I exist.

Know that what you feel, I feel. 

Know that I hunger for bread,

but not just for bread.

Know that I am hungry to be wanted,

hungry to be loved.  Know that I am.

For today, my prayer is one of thanksgiving for the opportunity to get to know who I am, today.  I am thankful for my group and fellow bloggers who always have great experiences to share.  I pray that God helps me to increase my love by allowing me to give it away to those most in need.  I pray for all of our addicted loved ones and I say a prayer for the soul of Henry.