Pain

And then there are the days that really hurt. Deeply. It feels physical though I realize it can't possibly be. It's like an ache, a phantom pain. Like you're missing an appendage that's no longer there. Why is it so complicated to be in a relationship? Why does it hurt so bad when they end?

When you're the one who gets dumped it feels doubly painful. You begin to question everything about yourself to try to determine why you were so easily left behind. I wasn't good enough. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't smart enough. I wasn't enough. On my good days I can recognize that I wasn't enough for that particular person, but that I will be enough for someone in the future. On my bad days, not so much. 

You start to question your decision making, your feelings, your understanding - all of it. You wonder if you read things wrong or if you were ever on the same page. Mostly, you wonder if any of it was really real.   

The hard part with all of this is that it takes time. It takes time to heal and recover from a break up. You have to make it through the first few days without them, then the first weekend without them, then the rest of your life without them. 

You put things in place to help ease your suffering - drinks with friends, a movie night with your kids, a party at your sister's house - but you're never really sure how it will go. You could be having the time of your life one minute, without a care in the world but then it all comes crashing back in. The pain, the regret, the ache. Or, you could be lucky and have a great night that helps you forget, even if it's just for a little while. 

Either way I know I'll survive. It will be tough for a while and then, one day, miraculously, it won't be so tough. The next day will be even easier. And, over time, I will begin to remember that I am strong, lovable and worthy and that love will surely find me again. 

Return to Self

I attended an online, guided meditation today because, you know, any port in a storm, right? I've done meditations like it before but this one felt different. This one calmed me in a way that I haven't been calmed in a very long time. After all the breathing and visualization she asked us to rub our hands together to create warmth and then to place our hands over our hearts. I felt so connected to myself. She talked about how we need to send and receive love to all things and I really felt that. 

My sister has been going through a tough time. I can't offer details but it's just a really bad time for her - fear, anger, pain and suspicion. We sit and talk a lot lately. I offer support - she offers support - we support each other. But there is a much wider support network than just the two of us. Our nuclear family, our extended family, our friends and our community are all tied together in such a way that won't allow either of us to fall. Sometimes the support comes from an unlikely source, other times it comes from those you know you can always count on. And that's no accident. 

I was raised to believe that family and community were very important in every day life and I now know it to be true. It's amazing how it works - very organic and seemingly without much effort. I strive to be kind to the people I encounter in my life. (Some would say I'm too kind but that's a topic for another blog...) It doesn't take a lot of extra effort, sometimes none at all. But the rewards are astounding. A nice smile, a kind gesture or a warm hug all go a long way towards improving someone's day. If I can make one person's day better then that's one happier person in the world. Imagine if we all did that, every day! 

Listen, I could easily be a beast about the bad thing happening to me right now or the horrible mess my sister is living through but I think I'll choose not to. I think I'll choose love, compassion and forgiveness. (On my good days anyway 😉). I want to believe that everyone is doing the best they can with what they've been given. People are sometimes mean, cruel, manipulative and deceitful but I think it's because of battles raging inside them. It rarely has anything to do with me. There is no need for me to pass judgement on them because they're being far harsher to themselves than I could ever be. 

That being said, anyone who chooses to mess with my sister is messing with me and my whole clan. We are powerful, determined, smart and brave and we will protect her always. A smart person would understand that and "stand down" - knowing the war cannot be won. Unfortunately that's not the kind of person we're dealing with...

Small World or Space Mountain?

Have you ever been betrayed so deeply that you're not even sure what hit you? So blindsided by someone's actions that you're stunned you didn't see it coming? It's been a long time since that happened to me, but it just did.  

I was lied to. I was mislead. I was promised a future and it was ripped away. He fooled us all - my family, my kids, even his kids. He told me he loved me, talked about what our future would look like, sent me photos of engagement rings, said I was his "twin flame". He encouraged me to trust him. To open up to him. To believe that what we had was real. Then he left me for his ex-girlfriend. 

I am stunned. My family is stunned. None of us can believe it but I assure you it's true. It's a level of deception that is so shocking to me. He tried to spin it in a way that implied I misunderstood his intentions. He tried to tell me that my life was "too much" for him and that he didn't see how it could work. He chose the safe and easy route because that's all he's capable of. He walked away from something that could have been wonderful, loving and amazing. He was afraid to try for something next level because there was no guarantee it would work. He couldn't understand that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity that was worth the risk.

So what now? Do I wish him pain? Sadness? Regret? In my weaker moments, yes. In my calmer moments I feel sad for him. He may not regret it now but he will at some point. He will regret giving up on us. He will always wonder what could have been. 

As for me, I will survive. I will share my love with someone who is worthy and good. Someone who is trustworthy and brave. Someone who knows that a deeper level of love is not only possible but attainable. Someone who isn't afraid to believe in me and everything that I am. 

He will spend his life on the "Small World" ride instead of "Space Mountain". "Small World" is calm, simple and slow, but if you stay on it long enough, it will drive you crazy.  For some people, that's enough. 

I Fell Off My Shoes. Again.

I’m clumsy. Incredibly clumsy. I’ve struggled with it my whole life - not quite sure why. Quit dance class before I got the basics down? Maybe. I’ve tripped over a cinder block while wearing a skirt (first date), I’ve fallen out of my shoes during the high school graduation procession (sorry Todd) and I’ve fallen off my shoes during a dash to the door in a rainstorm (Another first date. Different guy.) It’s not that I walk around running into walls or anything I just, often, find myself losing my footing and taking a tumble. 

There was an incident in the summer of '93. It was summertime and I was out celebrating life with friends (I was drunk) and I decided to leap off the railroad tracks down onto the grassy slope below. What I didn’t know, and wouldn’t realize until I made contact, was that there was a railroad tie hidden in the grass. I nearly made it but, when it came time to stick the landing, all was lost. My foot hit the edge of the railroad tie and my ankle rolled 90 degrees to the side. The pain was instantaneous and the regret immediate. Alcohol, miracle elixer that it is, prevented the real pain from making itself known at that moment but it would come.

The next morning I woke to a throbbing, screaming pain in my ankle that would not be ignored. I looked down at my ankle (left ankle - that might be important later) and saw it had swollen to the size of a small melon. It was pretty gross. Sobbing hysterically I crawled into my Mom’s room for assistance. Went to the ER and numerous visits after that while wearing a walking cast. As a direct result of that fall my ankle has never been the same. Ever. The injury is what brought about my "I will never ice skate again" declaration.

I digress. Back to the fall from yesterday. Zoe is horrified yet laughing hysterically. I’m pretty horrified too, but decidely not laughing. Thank God the alarm wasn’t activated in that Jeep. If it had been turned on the thing would have started screaming in my ears while I tried to get back in my car. Zoe and I had gone out for sushi and as we headed for the car, I made a miscalculation in stepping off the curb. My ankle (right one this time - Yay!) gave way. I felt my other (useless) ankle give as well and I could feel myself going down. But. There was a beautiful, new, champagne colored Jeep parked next to my car. My hand shot out, instinctively, and smacked the hood of the Jeep, scrambling for purchase. I bounced off the Jeep then spun into the side of my car, grabbing the side mirror for balance. While I’m sure it only took 3 seconds, it felt like everything was happening in slow motion and that the entire population of the Busch’s parking lot was witnessing the fall. The minute it happened I knew it would be bad. You know how you can just feel something like that?  I struggled to get into the car as did Zoe, but she struggled more because she couldn’t stop laughing (nice, right?)… I told her we needed to get home before my foot swelled up so much that we couldn’t get the shoe off (not my first rodeo). I will pay for this tomorrow.

I remember a friend once told me that my self-proclaimed clumsiness was not, in fact, actual clumsiness. She said my frequent falls indicated that I was athletic, not clumsy and that I wasn’t afraid to move my body about which is why I fell a lot. I don’t know about that. If the US gymnastics team was as “athletic” as me there would be piles of them laying on the gymnasium floor in bandages. It would look like a MASH unit or that one scene in Gone With the Wind. The point is that my well-intentioned friend (Hi Kate!) loved me enough to tell me lies. The end.

I'm not mad, just disappointed

I was laying in bed at 10:30 am on a Sunday morning when Max (my 19 year old son) walked into my room. I rolled over to look at him through sleepy eyes (I was out late the night before), only to focus in and see he was looking at me with …. Is that disdain? Arms crossed, looking down at me, he said, “Are you going to stay in bed ALL day? You go out galavanting around town every night, you don’t get home until 3:00am and you didn’t even have the decency to call and let me know where you were? The kitchen was a mess so I cleaned it - you’re welcome - and I had to put away all the laundry as well. The dog sure wasn’t going to let herself out so I had to take care of that too. The kittens kept us up all night and I got no sleep at all because I was worrying about you.”

What. Is. Happening.

I’ve recently re-entered the dating game. Sort of. Really just kind of dipping a toe in if I’m being totally honest. But yes, I was out late and no, I didn’t call. To be fair, both kids are able to track me by my cell phone location and they knew who I was with but I agree I should have called.

Still. It’s pretty funny. Seeing him standing there looking all exasperated and mad. Just like I’ve done with him a millions times before....

Chip Clips

It's summertiiime and the chip clips are miiissing...

It's summertime. The kids are home all day. The dishes are piling up. The rest of the house is trashed. The cats are looking skittish and I can't find the dog food (40 lb bag I bought yesterday). I shop for groceries every day to feed the hordes of teenagers that roam through each night. The kids come and go all. day. long. Wet bathing suits are strewn about the house and there isn't a dry beach towel to be found. The front door never really closes and someone set up a tent in the yard - 3 weeks ago. I have no idea how many kids are actually living here but, if the rapid rate of toilet paper usage is any indication, there's a lot.

And then there's the issue of the chip clips.

I spend a lot of time, each day looking for chip clips. My search is always more frantic in the summer because the humidity makes chips go stale within like 30 seconds of opening the bag. Yet the kids leave the bags, unopened, all over the house. On my daily travels throughout the house I'm destined to find at least one open bag laying around somewhere. So I dutifully pick up said bag and walk to the kitchen for a chip clip. I begin the search. It does not go well. I cannot find a single chip clip anywhere in the kitchen or pantry. How is that possible? I buy them at yard sales, the dollar store and sometimes even the office supply store. I stash them everywhere preparing for some sort of chip clip apocalypse but, when the time comes, they're gone. Just GONE. So then I begin to scavenge for a pony tail holder or even a super sturdy paperclip. Nothing. I go to my office where I keep all the office supplies but all I can find are the tiniest clips that can only hold one piece of paper. (Why do they even make those?) Screw it. They’re all gone and I’m tired. I head back to the kitchen and do the "roll and tuck" method on each bag. Roll ‘em up, tuck ‘em close together and hope it holds. Fall cannot come soon enough.

When these kids head off to start their lives (or at least back to school) I will have an entire drawer dedicated only to chip clips. I swear, I will never go chip clip (less) again!

Family Vacation

We just got back from a week at the beach. I went on this vacation with the following crew: My mom, my sister, her husband and their three boys, my other sister (her beau stayed a few days) and her two kids (one with boyfriend who came along as well) and my kids. Sounds insane, right? Yeah, it kinda was. But in a good way.

We rented three cabins on the beach in South Haven and the location could not have been better. Cute cabins, giant deck, right on the beach. It was the best kind of vacation - the kind where there is no schedule, no agenda, no plan. Each day started with coffee on the deck which eventually led to breakfast, then groups would begin to migrate to the beach. Kids would wander back up, famished, around lunchtime and sandwiches were thrown together. Dinner would usually be discussed late in the day and a volunteer would head to Meijer for supplies.

We sat on the beach, listening to the water, talking, laughing, watching the kids play, with our toes in the sand. The kids were exhausted each night. The true, complete exhaustion you feel only after a full day of water, sand and sunshine. When night came we played euchre on the deck then transitioned to a bonfire on the beach. Complete with singing.

Euchre crew killin' it. 

Before you choke on the sweetness of it all (I'm sure the singing put you near, if not over the edge) let me explain. My Dad came from a very musical family and shared that history and love of music with us girls while we were growing up. He would sing and play the guitar and we would all sing along. Around campfires, at church and at home. When we were very little he would sit in the hall outside our bedrooms and sing us to sleep. It's very special to us and it's a tradition we work hard to continue. Truth be told, I don't actually work that hard. Kelly taught herself to play the ukelele and practices all the time - I just hold the songbook for her and turn the pages. Anyway, the kids love it. You might think they wouldn't but they do. Each day they asked if we would sing and have a bonfire that night.

And also, we rented a jet ski. Everyone was SO excited! We rented it for two hours and had the time all mapped out with who would ride it when. Really not sure what I was thinking when I agreed to give my daughter and neice a ride. I've ridden jet skis before, though, in hindsight I may not have actually driven one. You see, I'm not what you'd call a water person. At all. Not sure why this didn't occur to me when it came my turn to ride.  My sister, her husband and my son had already taken their turns on it when they handed it over to me - racing, jumping waves, having a ball! They brought it in to about 3 ft of water so I could climb on from the back. No problem. Life vest in place, kill switch tether attached. My neice on board.

I barely touched the throttle and found it to be very responsive. A little too responsive, if you want to know the truth. And here's the problem with jet skis. They're completely counterintuitive. When you feel like it's getting out of control or a wave is coming at you the wrong way your instinct is to let go of the throttle but you're SUPPOSED to slam it down and maneuver away. The other problem is that when you let go of the throttle the whole thing gets incredibly tippy and sinks. I mean, not completely, but enough to make a non-water person like myself panic. When you try to take off again it's like you're on a submarine with all the stupid water coming at you. Let's also add to the equation that the water was spraying in my face like a damn firehose so I had to take off my prescription sunglasses and I really couldn't see much. At one point I remember yelling, "Can you see any boats or swimmers around here? I can't see anything. Tell me if I'm going to hit something." Seriously should NOT have been driving it.

But then. Then. It got worse. I fell off. Not just fell off, was thrown from the crazy thing! Took my niece with me too. Came up sputtering, choking and panicked. Looked around and saw the jet ski. Check. Saw my niece. Check. Then I thought about how deep the water was and what was beneath me and I lost it. I wildly, frantically clawed my way back to the machine where my niece was patiently waiting. I was practically hysterical in my attempt to get back up. If I could have stood on her head for quicker boarding, I'd have done it. I'm not proud but it's true. I needed to get out of that water. Quickly.

So you'd think, that when it came time to give my daughter her ride I would've turned over the reins to my sister or her husband but I didn't. Took my daughter and got thrown from the stupid thing AGAIN. But this time I was far more tired. Pulling myself onto the machine felt like pulling myself out of a deep vat of mud. It suddenly occurred to me that I may not be able to get back up. That I may require some sort of Coast Guard rescue (Do they do that for terrible jet skis drivers? What a waste of taxpayer money) and that this could take awhile. My lovely daughter would have none of my defeatist attitude and cheered me on (and pushed my butt a little too) until I was back up on the machine. We immediately returned it to the rental guy. Machine must've been defective or something.....

The second "incident" involved Mom. She and I were sitting in the sun and decided to go in the lake for a quick swim to cool off.  I should note there was a yellow flag flying on the beach but, here's the thing, we didn't pay much attention to the flags. When the red flag was flying you weren't supposed to swim due to the undertow and high waves but those were the days the kids liked best! So red days - don't swim. Yellow days - swim carefully. Green days - all good. Back to the story, it was a yellow day. I headed into the water first and found it to be cold but refreshing. I was a few feet from the shore, maybe about up to my mid-thigh. Mom was just entering the water. Then everything went into slow motion. You know how that is?

Mom started to lean to the left a bit, then a bit more, then she was down. I started to move towards her and glanced up to see my sister on the beach - laughing, reaching for her phone - and then a wave CRASHED right on top of Mom. I mean BOOM. No escape. She came up sputtering and looking like a drowned puppy. I reached for her - still laughing - then a man from the shore came in to help too. I was laughing, Mom was laughing and this poor guy was struggling to save her. We were laughing so damn hard we could barely stand. Sister, on shore,  still snapping photos. Mom had a death grip on this guy - would NOT let go of him until she was safely on shore. The photos are hillarious. I look like hell but I'm not even mad. Totally worth it.

So, in conclusion, the vacation was hillarious, emotional, messy, loud, frustrating, happy, enlightening and real. Wouldn't trade it for the world.