Lament

I was thinking Tuesday night about the fact that it was Casta's birthday and I already told you it reminded me of the night I lost my second child. It was then that it occurred to me that 8 years, four months and six days could seem like but a blink in time. I began yelling to the Heavens that I wanted them back. I cried out to the Father who is the giver as well as the taker. I wasn't angry, just broken hearted. I can't remember the last time I cried so hard. The weight I mentioned has seemed less since then so maybe it was what I needed.

When is it enough, though. Will I ever not miss them. Not ache when I see a pregnant woman or a proud mother pushing the stroller that cradles her newborn? Not feel that sting of jealousy when a sister is expecting her second, third, fifth? Will the hurt ever go away.

I can only assume that just as you do not stop loving your living children, neither do you stop longing for those who left before you.

It was the announcement that Rachael, my youngest sister, is three months along that pushed me toward the decision that it was a good time to get back into counseling. I'm happy for her, truly. I also catch myself thinking of all the reasons she shouldn't be having another child right now. When I'm deep down honest with myself, though, I know that comes from my pain more than anything else. I wish that I could just be excited for her without the pang hidden away in the depths of my heart.

I amaze myself with my ability to come to the brink of profound feeling only to immediately thrust myself back to emotional paralysis.....just a side note.

Vapor

I was just sitting here typing monotonous lists at work and remembered that I have dinner planned with a couple of friends tomorrow night. When I made these plans a week ago I was a little disappointed that we couldn't do it any sooner. Then, suddenly, it's tomorrow.







I am amazed over and over again at just how quickly this life passes by.







How does that happen? As children time seems to crawl. We wait an eternity between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. I remember clearly being told as a sullen teenager anxiously awaiting adulthood that I would regret rushing things. "Once you graduate time begins to fly," they would tell me. I balked.







It was true. I graduated high school, seemingly, no more than a year ago. In actuality, 14 years ago. I can't fathom where that time went. When did I become middle aged? Am I middle aged? Almost if not already.







It is the month o' birthdays which is probably why I am feeling somewhat nostalgic. Casta, the only child I've ever seen the moment her first breath was breathed, turned nine on Tuesday. She's nine. I remember her taking her first steps as I jingled my keys with one hand and wriggled my other hand free of her death grip. I remember waking up from a nap wondering why she was licking my arm only to discover the substance she was spreading wasn't from her mouth. I remember when she was taking a bath and I was busy fixing my hair, she said 'look teffie, I washed your phone.' I remember buying clothes for her first day of school. (She was beyond precious that day, by the way.) This year she started calling me in the evenings and reading to me by phone, I loved it.

How do you have a lifetime of memories when the time slipped by so rapidly?

My nostalgia, however, brought with it memories I wish I could forget. I remember holding that same baby girl in my arms one night as she slept and I begged God. Begged for the life of my own child. Pleaded that He make the pain go away, that it didn't mean what I knew it meant. Those prayers weren't answered the way I'd hoped. Now it's been over eight years. I remember that night like it was yesterday.

Ok this was just going to be about how time flies. Not all deep and sad. I almost went into a whole other topic but who wants to read that book.

Anyway, it isn't just a saying, that's all I'm getting at. Our lives are so very brief. Sure, sometimes I wish I could hurry through parts of it but in doing so I miss out. I don't want to miss out on any part of the misty vapors that are my life, all too soon I blink and they're gone.

James 4:14 (NIV)
Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

Feelings Aren't Cool

You'll recall I'm sure, that I mentioned a few weeks back that I was planning to start going to therapy again. A big reason for that is how I feel, or don't feel, whichever. Stepping out of the boat into the vast ocean that is my emotional life, well those are tricky waters for me. I typically stay in the boat, not just on the boat but in the cabin, completely sheltered from any emotion that may try to slyly splash up on me when I'm not looking.

Enough with that analogy it's making me sea sick.

I typically don't know what I feel. So, in my emotionally ignorant mind, it is better to bury the unknown feeling than to fight through my terror of the unknown and learn what is actually going on inside me. To be frank, beyond mad, sad and happy I am pretty much clueless. Anything bigger or more powerful than that and I am checking out.

Perhaps another key to it is my tiny fascination with control. I like it, I like it a lot. To me, in order to experience feelings, emotions, whatever you want to call them, would mean being forced to give up control. That terrifies me greatly.

I get it. I understand why I am so reticent in this area. It makes sense that someone abused as a child would grow up to be especially controlling. Defense mechanism, self preservation, I get it.

But do I want to continue to live it.

I of course say no. I say no verbally and I say so by action in my beginning counseling again. I wonder, though, what it will actually take to get me out from behind these towering walls I've called home for so long. What will make me want it more than I fear it? What makes the pain worth the pay off?

I don't know I got off on this tangent because since I left counseling yesterday I've had that familiar weight that sometimes comes to rest dead center in my chest. That feeling that isn't a feeling like happy or sad, it's a feeling telling me there are real things that I need to be feeling. There is a lifetime of emotion buried below this weight and it seems to want to be let out so badly that it's willing to tear a hole through my chest if that's what it takes.

But you can tell by the fact that I said the word feeling 87 times in one paragraph that I don't really know how to respond to the weight. Whatever it is. I look at those silly little papers with the different faces all listing a 'feeling word' corresponding to the facial expression......I see Chinese. So while all that is in me is crying out for me to just....cry, scream, yell...I don't know. I know the safe thing to do.

Push it down. Do something else. Read a book, watch a movie, buy something, clean something. Do anything that puts my body's focus on something other than, well, me.

I just started reading a book that my friend suggested. And I wonder how this girl is so normal. The life she's had so far, how is she hopeful. Why aren't I more like her? I love the character; I want to be more like her. And really, these days I certainly have more hope than I thought possible. Again, though, I am stuck with my same old questions. How do some people move through the pain and the chaos and the trials of this life so gracefully? While others, me namely, we just seem to get stuck.

Admittedly I'm only seven chapters in, maybe she'll surprise me and become more like me.....hope not.

Cardboard Testimonies

I saw this video on another blog and it is really powerful, I think you will enjoy! While you're at it with the whole open and real thing, check out this post!

'Insert Blog Title Here'

Let me just start by giving a huge congrats out to the A.L. for their twelfth straight win in the All Star Game!! Way to go boys! (if you have no idea what the A.L. is, or the All Star Game for that matter, well then please disregard.)



So, baseball....Blayne ended up second in his division. We went into the championship pretty confident but our boys forgot they knew how to play baseball and got spanked something awful. But second place in a National Championship isn't half bad. The team Brayton played with, well we won't go there. :-)



It's over. At least until late August, that is. What I will fill my nights up with for the next month I am not entirely sure, but I bet I will come up with something!



Today is Blayne's 11th birthday. That is very hard to stomach, I am getting old fast. I got him this and something close to this and these. You don't really get how funny the elmo shoes are unless you know my sister's and me. For twelve and half years we have had very strict rules. 'No character clothes' was near the top. But Blayne is Blayne. Blayne loves anything that makes people laugh or shocks the daylights out of them. So on the cusp of his 11th, he has decided he loves Elmo. He even had people shouting 'go elmo' as he rounded the bases last week. He's a funny, yet ever so strange, boy.



Happy birthday Blayne!!

Nationals Day One

Blayne had some not so good hits, but this one was a really good one! They lost both games but they all played great so we couldn't be too upset that we didn't pull out the wins. This is an open tournament so there are teams up to four classifications ahead of us that we will be facing all week. So, that makes a 14-1 loss understandable and a 3-2 loss actually exciting!

Fireworks, Baseball, Softball and Therapy...All I Can Ask For!

(you never really know just how much of a hick you are until you hear yourself on a video that you didn't mean to talk on.)

I took Casta and Natalee to Kaboom Town in Addison last night. They have amazing fireworks and you are able to sit directly across the street from the airport where they shoot them off. If the 'boom' isn't loud enough to rattle my chest than I feel I'm too far from the action!! It was good times.

(I totally did all the beading on these flip flops, who knew I could be crafty!)

Blayne is playing a Nationals tournament in Flower Mound this week. Brayton went to Blayne's scrimmage this past Tuesday and another team was practicing and asked if he wanted to join in. He did, of course. Long story short, he is now playing in their Nationals tournament with them this week in DeSoto. Great for his confidence, bad for conflicting schedules! So, I got Cas and Nattie last night, they'll have to stay with a sitter while I work Monday and Tuesday, but I took the rest of the week off for the tournaments so I'm keeping the girls for 10 days. Busy, busy, busy vacation. :) You know I'd have it no other way. At least my feet are ready!!

So, I've set an appointment with a new therapist for Monday. I figure it has probably been a long enough break on autopilot and I need to get down to business and get some work done on myself. Am I nervous, of course. Terrified even. But, it's time. I get as weary of drifting through life merely existing as I do of dealing with the hard stuff for any significant amount of time.

I may have forgotten to mention that I joined a coed softball team. Well, I did. I stink at it but I absolutely love playing. We are 0-2 but I think for the most part we are all having a great time despite that. I think I kinda look like I know what I'm doing even though at the moment my brain is thinking only the following: "Please don't strike out, please don't strike out." And so far, I only have once. :-)