Emotions Can't Always Be Trusted....

(Our backyard. Texas has never had such green grass but the rain has been a blessing in many ways.)

A few days ago we were swamped with a rain front and I simply couldn't help myself. While all the fuzzy dogs cowered inside, I stood outside in the rain and closed my eyes to let the cool water washed over meas the billions of drops fell in sheets at a time. My heartbeat slowed and my breathing fell into soft rhythm. It was a welcomed relief to the storms raging in my heart.
I doubt I will be able to adequately convey here the fronts that have been brewing inside me but I promise to be open and as painfully transparent as possible.

While I know that I am not alone: God is ever with me, friends and family back home are praying for me, and I have seen time and again that God creates encounters of prayer and encouragement whenever I go; the feeling of being alone can still feel extremely magnified at times.

Yes there is family here but it isn't the same. Most are busy with living and too scared to look at Daddy's declining health so they don't come over at all. One that does come maybe once a week does so with "baggage" and "borrowing needs". Then as I get a hug goodbye I am given a pat on the cheek and with one single breath proclaims, "You are so easy to read. I see you have something on your mind and I sure would love to know what it is. Well have a good week." And the door closes.
It is okay. It is all the reach out that person can do.

A couple of others have encouraged me for months to learn the layout of the road system (which I must say is the dumbest most confusing road layout I have ever driven. There is no logic or pattern to get anywhere...at all) but then as I have successfully learned how to navigate the basics they have been hurt and offended that I can be self sufficient. They feel un-needed and there is an underlying unspoken panic that says I am replacing them.
It is okay. Being providers is how they are able to deal with their levels of cope and grief.

Daddy is a quiet enabler. For example, I have learned that when we are 30 minutes late in being picked up for a doctor appointment he doesn't say anything. He smiles and makes small talk and then creates excuses at the check in counter about the imaginary traffic we encountered along the way. I asked him recently why he doesn't address the issue. His reply was that he didn't want anyone to feel bad or think that they are not important anymore. While I could reason and talk my way around that type of thinking pretty easily, the bottom line is that it is his choice and he doesn't want to create pain for anyone.

So I will respect that and do nothing. These patterns were set into play long before I arrived and it is not for me to create tension. (And I'd like to acknowledge here that I am not condemning or putting anyone down. I am simply trying to explain the technicalities of living in a place not of my own. )

It has taken me a while to come to this conclusion though. As with most things, it takes me a while to muddle through and figure out the direction God wants me to point in. That is partly because the spinning static in my mind makes too much noise for me to remember to stop and hear and partly also because I dig my heels in the ground and want to argue.

As the lives of my growing children are changing and adapting to me not being at home, as daily things happen to my husband, family, and friends that I can never have as a personal memory; I have wanted to stomp my feet and shake my finger in protest at what I have considered to be the injustice here. "Can you even consider what I have put on hold and given up to be here and help? Do you not see and understand even a portion of the sacrifice?"

And then God reminded me that somewhere along the way I switched my dependence to those around me for my security, my well being and my identity instead of focusing on Him to be my all sufficiency. Having my family and friends around as encouragement in daily living is a fringe benefit but He is supposed to be my all in all.

Yes I miss the beauty and comforts of home. I miss the corny jokes of my girls and their friends that remind me to look beyond the obvious and take joy in the simplest of things. I miss seeing that look in my husband's eyes that says I am beautiful. I miss my church home. Every week that I go to my sister's church I purpose to reach out and introduce myself to people even though my information cards have never been answered in all the time I have been here and it reminds me acutely how special my church at home is to strive to make sure no one feels alone. I miss my dog. Some would say that is ridiculous, especially when I am surrounded by 5 here, but God put that lil' guy in my life to answer a need and heal something in my heart that I thought could never be healed. In so doing, I am irrevocably attached to him and want nothing more than to curl up on the floor with him and not let go. I miss being able to be in the same room with my mom and laugh so hard over the simplest thing that I can't breathe.

But God has put me here for now for a reason and that has to remain my focus. When I close my eyes I can see His angels of encouragement holding up my arms and He is right next to me whispering in my ear that I am not alone.

So, those are the main things that I have been trying to come to terms with. I have sat down so many times to try and write it out but ended up shaking my head futilely to a blank screen. I realized that I was even not wanting to talk on the phone with calls from home because I couldn't explain and I felt empty. Now I am pulling out of it and I am so grateful.

I should update you on other things as well.

* Daddy started chemo on Wednesday. For this round we chose to do the IV drip only and dose it at 50%. This form of chemo builds in his system and hangs on for a long time. Now that it is day 4 he is beginning to feel the effects. The hot zone on the inside of his mouth has returned and he is quite fatigued but that is all. While we would love for there to be no symptoms at all, we are grateful that these are easy to manage and pray that the other effects stay away.

* I talked with my mom a couple of nights ago and she is still having a time of it after her surgery. Her incision is still infected and refuses to close even though it has been a month. It turns out that her surgeon gave incorrect care instructions for healing and now they are going to have to re-open her incision to adequately get rid of the infection and promote healing. Goodness how many times I have shouted gratefulness in my heart that her longtime childhood friend is there visiting and helps her to laugh away the frustrations.

* In three weeks I will be flying out to our eldest daughter's wedding and then staying in Portland for 3 weeks. Yes I am very anxious.



Thank you for your prayers and encouragement. Thank you for "listening" and understanding.
I pray for you to have a blessed and destiny filled week and that you realize just how important and cherished you are.

The Phone Call...

I just got off the phone with my father and I find my heart in a circle of emotion. I normally would wait and balance my thoughts before attempting to share. I never want to bash or say/write anything out of whim thinking. I never want to be hurtful and regret it later. But I find that today....maybe writing will help me stop the spinning.

Without having to re-hash everything, this post link can explain our past pretty well if you are curious and feel confused.

Since my step-mom passed away a couple of months ago, I have been trying with renewed vigor to communicate with my father. I want to let him know that he is not alone and he still has so many blessings in his life. When I was with him for the funeral, I noticed that there were no pictures of us anywhere. So, a few weeks ago I sent him a package of our new family pictures framed and ready for him to display. I chose frames that could be either used in easel fashion or be put on the wall, frames that would compliment his decor (not that decor would cross his mind). I figured that by doing this, it would make things easy for him with no "to do list"...gotta get to the store and buy frames to hang those pictures, gotta find the nails so they can go on the wall.
Then I called to let him know that a special package was on the way so that he could be looking forward to it. He seemed excited.

He has now had the box for three weeks, but couldn't take the time to call and say a word about it. When I asked about the pictures today, he said he loves them and has been enjoying them.
He has had them for three weeks......

I wanted to yell through the phone, "Dammit Daddy, the phone works both ways! How can you have tears in your voice as you call me your angel and say love me as we hang up from my phone calls....but you can't even pick up the phone on your end for a quick hey I got it bye?! Why do I always have to be the strong one and push this relationship forward? Why do I have to be the grownup? Why do I always have to be forgiving and have the grace? Be my parent for a change!"

Why isn't there an ounce of comment with, "Hey the girls have really grown since I was able to see them 4 years ago. Wow they are beautiful. Gosh they remind me of when you were a little girl. I wish we lived closer so I could know them more."

No, I didn't say anything of the sort. It would be counter productive and push him away more I fear. Anger rarely serves a positive outcome. Instead I commented on how glad I was that he had gotten the box and was enjoying the pictures. Then I changed the subject and brought it around to things I knew he could discuss.

The communication between my father and I has always been rocky. I know he loves me and just doesn't know how to say so. I know that he would like to have daily conversations with me but can't find the energy to pick up the phone and do so. I know he fights with regrets at not being there for me and doesn't know how to move on from that...to let go and move forward. As he wrestles with his insecurities, I daily have to let go of the thoughts that say I am not good enough for his time. I know it is a lie and I push it away and move forward.

Why do I have to be the one that is the grown up, the one who guides and bears with grace when it would be easier to put myself in a protective wall?
Because I am the one who sees the truth. I see his pain thru the veil of my own. If I wait and stomp my foot saying that I will not budge until he makes the first move forward....that serves no purpose but self-indulgence.
Because I see the circle of what is going on, it is my job to be patient and wait it out.
Wait for how long? I guess that doesn't really matter. He may never completely come around from his mountain of perception and I am not responsible for that.
I am however responsible for my own actions...for doing what I know to be right to the best of my abilities.

Thank you God once again for your guidance and patience with me. I am better now.

Heart Journey....

Wednesday
Our flights were uneventful. LAX was super crowded and unorganized. (The most horrid thing I heard on the intercom was a ticket counter agent saying, "If you are in need of wheelchair assistance please come up to the counter.") My brother and I used our time making each other laugh. We also talked a lot about ways we could help the family in San Antonio while dealing with our own emotions at the same time.
Dad was waiting for us as we walked to the baggage claim area. We walked right up to him before he realized we were there. He had been zoning. Understandable considering he had just lost his wife of 23 years to long term cancer. He hugged us and cried.
All the way to the house, he talked as he drove.....about the final days. It was as if he had to get it out, sort it all out...for our sake and for his. Dad had never been much of a talker around me so I just let him talk...for my sake and for his.


Thursday
Family in and out. Hugs and tears. We all agree that it is good to see each other but are so sad for the circumstances.
We all became siblings as teenagers, his two to her three, when our parents married in 1985. My brother actually lived with them for a while but I only visited in the summer. We care about each other and have a few memories together, but really lead completely separate lives. Maybe it is just me, but at times I feel so alienated.
All the same, I am determined to be strength for my father.
The viewing was long....I felt at first that 4 hours would be too long. But as I watched people thru the evening I saw that they all needed that time. They needed the time to find the acceptance for closure with a woman that touched so many lives.
Over and over I saw young people embrace my father and call him "Grandpa". And as I have seen for years, my step-siblings lean on my father for support and give him all credit for being the only male figure in their lives that shaped and changed their lives for the good.
I find myself swimming in 2 thoughts simultaneously. I mourn that our relationship and that of my children looks nothing like theirs, but at the same time I feel pride in seeing how amazing and compassionately he has affected so many people.


Friday
Today was the funeral. Again and again I am told how grateful people are that my brother and I are here for our father. They tell us how happy it makes him. I find myself bracing with even more determination to be a quiet strength for my father.....to stay by his side so that in some way I can will comfort and peace into him.
It didn't work out that way though, at least not the way I had envisioned. My step-brother came over and asked my father to sit with them, her children, in the front row. That was a direction that I hadn't prepared for....not being able to be by his side. Intellectually, logically, compassionately...I knew that he had every right and reason to be there with them. He belonged there as the father figure and husband. He needed to be with the people that had walked through the whole long cancer battle with him...the people that would still be in his day to day life to pick up the pieces after I am not around.
But the little girl in me recoiled from the heart slap. I felt the rejection all over again. I wanted to cry out that it wasn't fair to be robbed of that too.
As I sat there listening to the chaplain, God was reminding me of the other times that I have been able to share with my father. HE reminded me of the amazing father figure I have in my mother's husband. Most importantly, HE reminded me that HE, My God, is my forever father that always understands the condition of my heart and never gets stretched thin in His love.
I got up and shared a memory of my father's wife. There were things I couldn't say and things I should have said but couldn't think of while standing there in front of everyone. But I did share about a conversation we had a couple of years ago that God orchestrated to assure me of her eternal peace.
After the service, my father introduced me to several people. Each time, I heard the pride in his voice and saw the gleam in his eyes that showed the devotion that he can never find the words for.
Now that the funeral is finished, tomorrow people will start the long task of rebuilding their lives. My brother and I will be looking for ways to help in the remaining two days that we have here.


Saturday
We sat around for a leisurely breakfast while talking and reminiscing. It was time for people to start heading back into their daily lives today. There was unspoken hesitation all around in not wanting to leave the safety umbrella where hearts and emotions had stopped the reality of time. From here on out, reality would create new memories, memories that don't include her. At times, that is too painful to grasp.
My father has been using today to gather up memorabilia that he has had marked for me for years...things that he just never got around to giving to me. One item is a cookbook that was created by my precious grandmother and her 3 sisters. In the inside cover, these ladies had written personal dedications to me when I was but barely a year old (December 1971). It touched me so greatly and oh how I cried.
My brother and I found various things to do around the house today that we hope will bless our father.
We spent the later evening with him eating pie, watching a movie, and joking around. It was good to just sit, with no agenda, and be ourselves.

Sunday
Again family hung around for a majority of the day today. Maybe they were around because of my brother and I, maybe they were there for my father, or maybe both. It doesn't matter the reason. It is all part of moving on.
My step-sister's dog died today. She wanted him to be buried in my father's back yard with the other loved animals. My brother graciously took on the burial task so that our father would not have the burden.
A cousin took us out to dinner this evening. She too said how wonderful it was for us to be here for our father and how things can only get better from here.
Dealing with the death of a loved one always makes people evaluate and adjust their priorities.

Monday
We will be flying out shortly for home. I find that there are so many things that have been left unsaid, but now is not the time. It was so hard to say goodbye to my father.
When will I see him again?
Does he truly understand what it took for me to make this trip in my heart?
Or is it even important for him to understand?

What matters is that I did make the trip......and I am glad that I did.
From here on out, it is all brand new.

Just Because....

Last night I wrestled for hours over the idea of simply jumping out the bedroom window into the backyard and laying on the trampoline in the rain.......

Soaking Wet and Not Moving...

I am sitting here today looking at my blog picture of the young girl inspiring the world to look up and be refreshed in the rains of life...........
Normally I feel a focusing and surge when I set my eyes on that picture....but not today.

Today is a hard day.

No, nothing super horrid has happened. No one has died. Our home is still standing. Nothing that would make the world gasp and cringe in compassionate despair has fallen into my world.

It is just all of those things...those bits of straw....that pile up until one can't see over the haystack any longer. The metaphorical "breaking of the camel's back".

sigh........