There is something about spring that makes me antsy, creates an itch I can't quite scratch. Maybe it's all the Facebook posts from friends about their jaunts around the country to celebrate the passage of gloomier days to those brimming with hope and possibility. Perhaps it is all the amazing memories I have amassed from the trips taken in the Smith Family van to Florida, Tennessee, Georgia and Kentucky.
I was blessed as a child to have the opportunity to travel. My parents always managed to find a way to take a vacation or two every year. Nearly every spring, we packed and loaded the van for the southerly trip that often included excursions to amusement parks to appease my dad's affinity for thrilling roller coasters. Hard to believe he will be 81 tomorrow and no longer has the zest to buckle in and laugh with pure joy from the screaming descent on rails. I have taken my boys just one time to Michigan's Adventure and Sammy was only two at the time.
Every year this time, I have to fight with the overwhelming urge to pack up and take off-destination unknown. I have a history of fleeing and I have yet to outgrow it. It is with this urgency that I face a weekend all by myself for the first time in years next week. I have been planning itineraries in my head, wishing I had the means to make a small dream into a reality. It is not lofty dreams. I am not contemplating a flight to Tuscany to drink in the wine and views. I have considered staying somewhere along the lake shore. I have lamented no longer being able to visit Grandpa Casler in his little house and watch thunderstorms roll in over the lake. Maybe a drive over "The Bridge" and visit my old stomping grounds. I know I need to do it alone, get comfortable with me.
I just know that like every breathing person on this planet, my future is uncertain but right now it is terrifying and I feel on the precipice of failure. I have been calculating expenses in my head and trying to figure out how to provide everything for my children and still have room for much needed fun. I long to feel joy in my heart and know that we are going to be just fine. I desire the contentment of restful sleep, hitting the pillow knowing I have done a good job. It's frustrating that everything comes down to a bank account. I don't mean a padded account either. I simply want the assurance of knowing the lights will remain on, there will be a roof overhead, food on the table and shoes on our feet.
Gratification for me does not come from self enjoyment but in knowing that I am able to make a positive difference. It is the smile on a person's face that gives me joy. I still want to know what it is I want to be when I grow up. At the very least I know I want to be involved with something life changing, something that would make God proud.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Living with Adult ADHD
I don't why I have become so introspective as of late. I have run the full gamut of emotions in less than 24 hours and frankly, I am exhausted.
I began reading, "The ADHD Effect on Marriage. Understanding and Rebuild Your Relationship in Six Steps." by Melissa Orlov. It has been an heartbreaking, eye opening experience. I purchased this book because I am fairly certain that I am ADHD and I am determined to have a successful relationship that lasts forever.
I am living through the break up of another marriage and it has taken a huge toll on me both physically and certainly mentally. Xander's biological father is ADHD and I was always convinced that Xander suffered the same fate because of that genetic link, but imagine my dismay when Sammy was diagnosed as well. Speaking with my boys' teachers and watching the boys' reactions and behaviors is like taking a step into the recesses of my brain.
Both boys have been frustrated and sulked that they didn't have any friends. I remember the same lament being spoken from my boisterous mouth. They have both blurted hurtful words to only cry within seconds because of regret. I still suffer the consequences of my quick tongue. I also recognize the intelligence they possess and creativity, sometimes an inexplicable understanding of complex issues.
People who are ADHD are often very intelligent but struggle with success. They are saddled with insecurity and self-doubt. They live in cluttered spaces, but are overwhelmed with the mess. The boys and I can easily forget something we heard or spoke 5 minutes previous, but can recall the sights, sounds and smells of a trip made at age 3.
Reading this particular book has made me reflective of decisions I have made that felt so right in the moment, but eventually had long and far reaching consequences. My choices have hurt several people, ended friendships and strained the most basic familial relationships. Despite being above average in intelligence, I struggled to complete my bachelor's degree and have drifted aimlessly toward a career. Even as I entered college, I was an "undetermined major" due to my inability to focus on a career choice. I changed majors, dropped courses and even dropped out of school for a semester.
My college graduation date of December 9, 1995 was only partially accurate because I failed to complete the required math credits. I waited to enroll in a community college during the summer so I could finally have my diploma mailed. I gave up on the dream of entering law school, being a teacher and studying abroad because it wasn't fulfilling right at the moment-I didn't have the patience to await the reward.
Along with being insecure, I constantly compare myself to others. I never think I am thin enough, smart enough, successful enough, good enough, funny enough, attractive enough and on and on and on. This unfounded comparison to others is not only self-defeating but dangerous.
When I met Robert, I was broken, lonely and vulnerable; a recipe for disaster. Having finally left Oregon, I was determined to live with my parents, return to school and make the best possible life for Xander and I. The furthest thought from my mind was getting involved with a man. A childhood friend called and asked that meet a friend of she and her husband, I was resistant but not enough. I was charmed by his looks, shyness and mutual vulnerability. He was a single dad whose wife had kicked him out of their house because of the affair she was having with his brother-in-law. I soon learned he was NOT divorced and that he was still in love with her.
Why oh why didn't I see the huge red banner? This was not a flag, but a banner large enough to cover a house. Instead of turning tail and running like hell, I was determined to be a better woman. I was going to show him that not all women are content with staying home and spending their husband's money while he worked two jobs. I was smart, shoot I had the degree and everything to prove it. I could be a bread winner and sexy at the same time.
His family seemed to shocked when they met me. Well, duh, they knew he still loved his wife and hoped they would reconcile. They didn't know about the affair their son and daughter-in-law were having. How could someone so smart be so stupid? Good question.
Nine years later and Robert still submits to his ex-wife. As long as I stay with him, I will continue to be bitter and resentful. My boys and I will continue to come in second place to the first family. Xander and I will still be treated somewhat courteously, but always outsiders.
Armed with this understanding, I am researching experts in my area on diagnosing and treating adults with ADHD. I am determined to stop this cycle of self-harm and deprecation. I am determined to be successful and be able to recognize this success in all aspects of my life; career, mother and partner.
I have met someone who seems to better understand the quirks that make me uniquely me and now I need to better understand it about myself and turn that into a positive. Looking back at my remark about stating that those with ADHD seem to be able to inexplicably understand complex issues I think of a conversation with my soon-to-be 12 year old son, Xander. I said, "I'm sorry if I have been sad, but I think Mama has ADHD," and Xander simply but emphatically replied, "You DO!"
I began reading, "The ADHD Effect on Marriage. Understanding and Rebuild Your Relationship in Six Steps." by Melissa Orlov. It has been an heartbreaking, eye opening experience. I purchased this book because I am fairly certain that I am ADHD and I am determined to have a successful relationship that lasts forever.
I am living through the break up of another marriage and it has taken a huge toll on me both physically and certainly mentally. Xander's biological father is ADHD and I was always convinced that Xander suffered the same fate because of that genetic link, but imagine my dismay when Sammy was diagnosed as well. Speaking with my boys' teachers and watching the boys' reactions and behaviors is like taking a step into the recesses of my brain.
Both boys have been frustrated and sulked that they didn't have any friends. I remember the same lament being spoken from my boisterous mouth. They have both blurted hurtful words to only cry within seconds because of regret. I still suffer the consequences of my quick tongue. I also recognize the intelligence they possess and creativity, sometimes an inexplicable understanding of complex issues.
People who are ADHD are often very intelligent but struggle with success. They are saddled with insecurity and self-doubt. They live in cluttered spaces, but are overwhelmed with the mess. The boys and I can easily forget something we heard or spoke 5 minutes previous, but can recall the sights, sounds and smells of a trip made at age 3.
Reading this particular book has made me reflective of decisions I have made that felt so right in the moment, but eventually had long and far reaching consequences. My choices have hurt several people, ended friendships and strained the most basic familial relationships. Despite being above average in intelligence, I struggled to complete my bachelor's degree and have drifted aimlessly toward a career. Even as I entered college, I was an "undetermined major" due to my inability to focus on a career choice. I changed majors, dropped courses and even dropped out of school for a semester.
My college graduation date of December 9, 1995 was only partially accurate because I failed to complete the required math credits. I waited to enroll in a community college during the summer so I could finally have my diploma mailed. I gave up on the dream of entering law school, being a teacher and studying abroad because it wasn't fulfilling right at the moment-I didn't have the patience to await the reward.
Along with being insecure, I constantly compare myself to others. I never think I am thin enough, smart enough, successful enough, good enough, funny enough, attractive enough and on and on and on. This unfounded comparison to others is not only self-defeating but dangerous.
When I met Robert, I was broken, lonely and vulnerable; a recipe for disaster. Having finally left Oregon, I was determined to live with my parents, return to school and make the best possible life for Xander and I. The furthest thought from my mind was getting involved with a man. A childhood friend called and asked that meet a friend of she and her husband, I was resistant but not enough. I was charmed by his looks, shyness and mutual vulnerability. He was a single dad whose wife had kicked him out of their house because of the affair she was having with his brother-in-law. I soon learned he was NOT divorced and that he was still in love with her.
Why oh why didn't I see the huge red banner? This was not a flag, but a banner large enough to cover a house. Instead of turning tail and running like hell, I was determined to be a better woman. I was going to show him that not all women are content with staying home and spending their husband's money while he worked two jobs. I was smart, shoot I had the degree and everything to prove it. I could be a bread winner and sexy at the same time.
His family seemed to shocked when they met me. Well, duh, they knew he still loved his wife and hoped they would reconcile. They didn't know about the affair their son and daughter-in-law were having. How could someone so smart be so stupid? Good question.
Nine years later and Robert still submits to his ex-wife. As long as I stay with him, I will continue to be bitter and resentful. My boys and I will continue to come in second place to the first family. Xander and I will still be treated somewhat courteously, but always outsiders.
Armed with this understanding, I am researching experts in my area on diagnosing and treating adults with ADHD. I am determined to stop this cycle of self-harm and deprecation. I am determined to be successful and be able to recognize this success in all aspects of my life; career, mother and partner.
I have met someone who seems to better understand the quirks that make me uniquely me and now I need to better understand it about myself and turn that into a positive. Looking back at my remark about stating that those with ADHD seem to be able to inexplicably understand complex issues I think of a conversation with my soon-to-be 12 year old son, Xander. I said, "I'm sorry if I have been sad, but I think Mama has ADHD," and Xander simply but emphatically replied, "You DO!"
Thursday, March 1, 2012
What A Walk Can Do
It's amazing what crisp air, relative quiet and taking a walk will do for the creative regions of the brain.
I decided to take my dog, Charlie, for a brisk walk and hopefully tire him so he didn't whine incessantly to go outside for a mere five minutes then whine to bet let back inside. This goes on and on throughout the day, much like toddlers enjoy the game of "dropsie".
The purpose of my walk was not completely selfless. It was a means for me to forget about the horrible week I have had. My flawless work record suffered a black eye Tuesday when I was reprimanded for going above and beyond for the sake of a customer. I know, I'm a jerk. The entire meeting was a total convergence of whipping post, humiliation and undeserved anger. It was so pleasant, I temporarily regressed to the weak and defenseless abused woman I was so many years ago.
The second fun event of this week was learning that I will not have a nickle to spend of a federal tax refund. My soon to be ex-husband's ex-wife is getting more than half and the other portion will pay the mortgage that fell behind several months. There goes my dreams of a laptop and attending my nephew's wedding.
On the cusp of the weekend I am trying to stay sure footed and look ahead. I take walks so I can make mental lists and calm down. I also needed to get some form of exercise since the evening's tax preparation cut into my weekly yoga class.
Back to the walk. I was approximately half a mile east of the house and started to walk north when very suddenly a deep and guttural growl emerged from the depths of Charlie's chest. His hackles were up and he was defensive and scared. He looked like he was readying himself to tear into his mortal enemy. I have never seen my dog react so strongly and look so threatening. I trust my dog. I often think animals are better judges of character than people. Animals aren't deceived by lovely clothes, titles or desired addresses. Dogs rely on their basic instincts. They sense fear or anger or a threat. I crossed the street and Charlie continued to glare at the house until were far enough past.
What did he see? What was he hearing? What was it that I could not sense? I was trusting my dog's basic instinct to remove us from whatever unseen threat he was feeling. Could it be the heavy and sometimes oppressive darkness that seems omnipresent as of late? Whatever it was, it sent chills throughout my body.
I am back in the warmth of the house. The dog is lying quietly in his bed and yet I can't shake the feeling that we avoided something potentially dangerous and harmful. I am also reflective on my need to be positive, move forward and be thankful.
I decided to take my dog, Charlie, for a brisk walk and hopefully tire him so he didn't whine incessantly to go outside for a mere five minutes then whine to bet let back inside. This goes on and on throughout the day, much like toddlers enjoy the game of "dropsie".
The purpose of my walk was not completely selfless. It was a means for me to forget about the horrible week I have had. My flawless work record suffered a black eye Tuesday when I was reprimanded for going above and beyond for the sake of a customer. I know, I'm a jerk. The entire meeting was a total convergence of whipping post, humiliation and undeserved anger. It was so pleasant, I temporarily regressed to the weak and defenseless abused woman I was so many years ago.
The second fun event of this week was learning that I will not have a nickle to spend of a federal tax refund. My soon to be ex-husband's ex-wife is getting more than half and the other portion will pay the mortgage that fell behind several months. There goes my dreams of a laptop and attending my nephew's wedding.
On the cusp of the weekend I am trying to stay sure footed and look ahead. I take walks so I can make mental lists and calm down. I also needed to get some form of exercise since the evening's tax preparation cut into my weekly yoga class.
Back to the walk. I was approximately half a mile east of the house and started to walk north when very suddenly a deep and guttural growl emerged from the depths of Charlie's chest. His hackles were up and he was defensive and scared. He looked like he was readying himself to tear into his mortal enemy. I have never seen my dog react so strongly and look so threatening. I trust my dog. I often think animals are better judges of character than people. Animals aren't deceived by lovely clothes, titles or desired addresses. Dogs rely on their basic instincts. They sense fear or anger or a threat. I crossed the street and Charlie continued to glare at the house until were far enough past.
What did he see? What was he hearing? What was it that I could not sense? I was trusting my dog's basic instinct to remove us from whatever unseen threat he was feeling. Could it be the heavy and sometimes oppressive darkness that seems omnipresent as of late? Whatever it was, it sent chills throughout my body.
I am back in the warmth of the house. The dog is lying quietly in his bed and yet I can't shake the feeling that we avoided something potentially dangerous and harmful. I am also reflective on my need to be positive, move forward and be thankful.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Taking Inventory
I have decided that I am having a midlife crisis. I turn 40 this year and it seems like I have been spending a great deal of time taking inventory of my life and feeling unfulfilled. I regret not applying myself more in college and finding out what I really wanted as my vocation. I watch "House Hunters International" and bemoan the fact that I never studied abroad when I was in college and fully immersed myself in another culture and its language.
With this in mind, I have decided to try and do and accomplish some of the things I put on the back burner. I am going to look into renewing my understanding of Spanish. I am also not going to sit around and wait for the right moment to go see a baseball game or attend a concert. I will take the boys on a trip this summer and allow them to be silly and carefree; to be kids. Taking dance lessons with my love is on the list as well. My biggest ambition is to save the funds to travel to Europe.
I was a camp counselor for an exclusive all girls camp in the summer of 1993 and formed a great friendship with Alison, a Brit I have affectionately deemed "limey". She returned to The States the summer of 1994 and I took her around my stomping grounds. That was the last time we saw one another. She has made it perfectly clear that I am welcome to stay with her if and when I get the means to simply board the plane and travel across the pond.
The problem with the goals I have set is that they involve money. I only dreamed of being wealthy when I was a child and thought there was great importance in accumulating wealth. I no longer have that desire, but I also acknowledge that my part-time, meager paying job is not up to snuff to fund any of my desired adventures. This is where the backward glance and forward hope has me completely frustrated with my present situation.
Every summer I have told the boys that I want to take them fun places and experience adventures with them and every summer I fall short. Rather than dwelling in the frustration, I need it to transform into motivation and determination to make dreams become reality. For the most part, my dreams are simple and attainable but my mind often tries desperately to grasp the entire picture and it leaves me overwhelmed. I'm slowly learning that I need to break the big picture into smaller pictures. I have started this learning process when it comes to running longer distances, now I need to apply it to every aspect of my life.
So I start this day with the intention of moving forward and only gleaning from the backward glances for the purposes of wisdom.
With this in mind, I have decided to try and do and accomplish some of the things I put on the back burner. I am going to look into renewing my understanding of Spanish. I am also not going to sit around and wait for the right moment to go see a baseball game or attend a concert. I will take the boys on a trip this summer and allow them to be silly and carefree; to be kids. Taking dance lessons with my love is on the list as well. My biggest ambition is to save the funds to travel to Europe.
I was a camp counselor for an exclusive all girls camp in the summer of 1993 and formed a great friendship with Alison, a Brit I have affectionately deemed "limey". She returned to The States the summer of 1994 and I took her around my stomping grounds. That was the last time we saw one another. She has made it perfectly clear that I am welcome to stay with her if and when I get the means to simply board the plane and travel across the pond.
The problem with the goals I have set is that they involve money. I only dreamed of being wealthy when I was a child and thought there was great importance in accumulating wealth. I no longer have that desire, but I also acknowledge that my part-time, meager paying job is not up to snuff to fund any of my desired adventures. This is where the backward glance and forward hope has me completely frustrated with my present situation.
Every summer I have told the boys that I want to take them fun places and experience adventures with them and every summer I fall short. Rather than dwelling in the frustration, I need it to transform into motivation and determination to make dreams become reality. For the most part, my dreams are simple and attainable but my mind often tries desperately to grasp the entire picture and it leaves me overwhelmed. I'm slowly learning that I need to break the big picture into smaller pictures. I have started this learning process when it comes to running longer distances, now I need to apply it to every aspect of my life.
So I start this day with the intention of moving forward and only gleaning from the backward glances for the purposes of wisdom.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
BFF....
This past weekend I spent some time with my best friend who is pictured with me in my profile photo (I have short hair). I have been spending more time with her in the last few months because we are both going through some life situations that are best shelved when we can laugh about some of the more ridiculous decisions we have made. We often relax on the couch and enjoy watching, "House Hunters International" or as I have come to call it, "Let's Get Depressed And Regret The Choices We Have Made" show.
This past Saturday was a bit different than most of our visits. We usually have all of our boys so we do things around the house like drinking a beer while watching football or hockey games. However, we were childless on Saturday night and Christine made plans for us to see a local band. She told me that it was a ladies' night out and she had invited a friend she had met through a school event. I was fine with the plans but then once her friend arrived she mentioned that we would be picking up another woman and that woman had invited one of her friends.
Stop. Hit the brakes. Halt. Did you read the previous lines that Christine and I often watched sporting events while drinking a beer? Yes, I wrote that. I am a tomboy-always have been and always will be and it was a blessing that I had boys. I am not a prissy girl. I do NOT enjoy shopping and I have never had a manicure. I'm pretty certain I was panicked that I did not have an epi pen in my purse for fear of the anaphylaxis I was certain to suffer from all the estrogen. Another thing about me that is certainly not dainty is my appetite. I am an eater. I am not a, "Oh, I'll just have a salad," kind of girl. Bring me a platter full of food and keep your hands close at your sides. Why do I mention this? Because we arrived at the bar and I said, "Hey, I'm hungry. Is anyone going to eat? I am ." Of course they weren't hungry.
Drinks and my dinner is served and the friend of the friend of the friend removes her jacket to reveal artificially tanned breasts bursting out of her shirt. I was certain I was going to find colostrum in my drink. I do not have issues with women looking sexy and enjoying themselves but this evening quickly turned into a bad regurgitated version of "Sex In The City" and I didn't have a boyfriend named Mr. Big or a separate closet for expensive shoes. A group of divorced women just seemed far too cliche and I was wallowing in misery.
Where was my friend, Christine? Christine the girl who can make me laugh about the most mundane and everyday things. She was complimenting the shirt bursting girl and dancing to the band I was supposed to be enjoying. What was I doing? I was watching the Detroit Red Wings instead. I had no interest in displaying any of my physical attributes, no matter how big or small. I had grown tired of hearing these women complain about their ex-husbands and then discuss how large some guy's junk was.
If I am girly in any part of my life, it is my love of romance. I am in love with an amazing man, who like me, enjoys discussing books, sports, travel and simply being ridiculous. Saturday night was a scary glimpse into what life could be for me if I don't cherish the love I have been blessed to share. Despite having survived an abusive marriage, I do not nor will I ever, hate men. It was the behavior I witnessed that made me dislike my own gender. It also saddened me. It saddened me that I did not enjoy my time with Christine because she had the best of intentions, but I was too far out of my element. But again, it provided me with an eye-opening experience. These women lamented their past relationships but they also rejoiced being away from their children while I was deeply missing mine.
Christine will continue to be my bestfriend (unless she reads this) but maybe next time, I will make the plans.
This past Saturday was a bit different than most of our visits. We usually have all of our boys so we do things around the house like drinking a beer while watching football or hockey games. However, we were childless on Saturday night and Christine made plans for us to see a local band. She told me that it was a ladies' night out and she had invited a friend she had met through a school event. I was fine with the plans but then once her friend arrived she mentioned that we would be picking up another woman and that woman had invited one of her friends.
Stop. Hit the brakes. Halt. Did you read the previous lines that Christine and I often watched sporting events while drinking a beer? Yes, I wrote that. I am a tomboy-always have been and always will be and it was a blessing that I had boys. I am not a prissy girl. I do NOT enjoy shopping and I have never had a manicure. I'm pretty certain I was panicked that I did not have an epi pen in my purse for fear of the anaphylaxis I was certain to suffer from all the estrogen. Another thing about me that is certainly not dainty is my appetite. I am an eater. I am not a, "Oh, I'll just have a salad," kind of girl. Bring me a platter full of food and keep your hands close at your sides. Why do I mention this? Because we arrived at the bar and I said, "Hey, I'm hungry. Is anyone going to eat? I am ." Of course they weren't hungry.
Drinks and my dinner is served and the friend of the friend of the friend removes her jacket to reveal artificially tanned breasts bursting out of her shirt. I was certain I was going to find colostrum in my drink. I do not have issues with women looking sexy and enjoying themselves but this evening quickly turned into a bad regurgitated version of "Sex In The City" and I didn't have a boyfriend named Mr. Big or a separate closet for expensive shoes. A group of divorced women just seemed far too cliche and I was wallowing in misery.
Where was my friend, Christine? Christine the girl who can make me laugh about the most mundane and everyday things. She was complimenting the shirt bursting girl and dancing to the band I was supposed to be enjoying. What was I doing? I was watching the Detroit Red Wings instead. I had no interest in displaying any of my physical attributes, no matter how big or small. I had grown tired of hearing these women complain about their ex-husbands and then discuss how large some guy's junk was.
If I am girly in any part of my life, it is my love of romance. I am in love with an amazing man, who like me, enjoys discussing books, sports, travel and simply being ridiculous. Saturday night was a scary glimpse into what life could be for me if I don't cherish the love I have been blessed to share. Despite having survived an abusive marriage, I do not nor will I ever, hate men. It was the behavior I witnessed that made me dislike my own gender. It also saddened me. It saddened me that I did not enjoy my time with Christine because she had the best of intentions, but I was too far out of my element. But again, it provided me with an eye-opening experience. These women lamented their past relationships but they also rejoiced being away from their children while I was deeply missing mine.
Christine will continue to be my bestfriend (unless she reads this) but maybe next time, I will make the plans.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
My Name Is Stacie and I Am An Ophidiophobic-Oh, just read it to find out
Well it's that time of year again. Time for picnics, swimming, bike rides and the buzz of cicadas high in the treetops. That sound in particular makes me think it will be especially sweltering. It's also the time of year when all of the slithering, scary reptilian creatures gather in the woods and determine the next course of action to scare the crap out of me.
Today it's warm, velvety warm. The morning sky was hazy with humidity and the building heat of the day. By 4 in the afternoon, we decided to take a bike ride on the trail and go for a dip in the river. Xander and I were well ahead of Sammy and Robert because the last bike excursion, I had to bring up the rear with a newly trained Sammy, weaving and significantly slowing the pace. Now, I have no issues with taking our time and enjoying the scenery, but when I have to manage my breathing and would like to generate some kind of breeze, I get a little impatient despite his cherubic face.
We arrived at Jackson's Landing and I immediately hopped into the cool and refreshing water of the river. Xander was in right behind me and Sammy and Robert came around the bend and soon joined us. In the middle of the river, just south of the bridge, there was an eddy that appeared to be a bit deeper than the surrounding waters. Making my way further back on the river, I thought of the trips to Tahquemenon Falls with my family when we would venture into the rapids despite all of the signs stating, "Dangerous currents and whirpools. No Swimming", yet The Smith Family would go upstream, lift our legs and let the current take us downstream. I decided to give it a try. It was fun and Robert and the kids followed suit.
We continued to play around in the river and greeted some passing tubists (who knows what the correct term is) and also watched a man take his dogs into the cool waters. It was a lovely way to spend a hot afternoon, but we needed to head back and finish up chores and prepare dinner. I decided to bring up the rear and give Robert a break. The ride was going along splendidly until we reached the "fork" where the trail splits and either continues northwest or east toward Alan G. Davis Park. See, this is where those little legless buggers came out to greet me, or rocket me off into a full blown panic attack. I suspect I left a burn mark in the pavement with the speed at which I pedaled my bike back home.
Why? Why do I see them? Was it a message because just this morning Pastor spoke about the first relationship in all creation? That it was Eve who was tempted by the serpent. I don't recall seeing that nasty little reptile tempting me with an iced latte or expensive perfume. Lord, I'm getting chills just typing about it! Honestly, I swear there is a conspiracy among those disgusting critters to make me come to terms with something in my life. I do know that I may run over a small child next time I am biking the trail because I will only look ahead and not down at the pavement. So parents be warned, if you hear a screaming banshee with a bicycle aflame, it is probably just me after an encounter with the legless kind.
Today it's warm, velvety warm. The morning sky was hazy with humidity and the building heat of the day. By 4 in the afternoon, we decided to take a bike ride on the trail and go for a dip in the river. Xander and I were well ahead of Sammy and Robert because the last bike excursion, I had to bring up the rear with a newly trained Sammy, weaving and significantly slowing the pace. Now, I have no issues with taking our time and enjoying the scenery, but when I have to manage my breathing and would like to generate some kind of breeze, I get a little impatient despite his cherubic face.
We arrived at Jackson's Landing and I immediately hopped into the cool and refreshing water of the river. Xander was in right behind me and Sammy and Robert came around the bend and soon joined us. In the middle of the river, just south of the bridge, there was an eddy that appeared to be a bit deeper than the surrounding waters. Making my way further back on the river, I thought of the trips to Tahquemenon Falls with my family when we would venture into the rapids despite all of the signs stating, "Dangerous currents and whirpools. No Swimming", yet The Smith Family would go upstream, lift our legs and let the current take us downstream. I decided to give it a try. It was fun and Robert and the kids followed suit.
We continued to play around in the river and greeted some passing tubists (who knows what the correct term is) and also watched a man take his dogs into the cool waters. It was a lovely way to spend a hot afternoon, but we needed to head back and finish up chores and prepare dinner. I decided to bring up the rear and give Robert a break. The ride was going along splendidly until we reached the "fork" where the trail splits and either continues northwest or east toward Alan G. Davis Park. See, this is where those little legless buggers came out to greet me, or rocket me off into a full blown panic attack. I suspect I left a burn mark in the pavement with the speed at which I pedaled my bike back home.
Why? Why do I see them? Was it a message because just this morning Pastor spoke about the first relationship in all creation? That it was Eve who was tempted by the serpent. I don't recall seeing that nasty little reptile tempting me with an iced latte or expensive perfume. Lord, I'm getting chills just typing about it! Honestly, I swear there is a conspiracy among those disgusting critters to make me come to terms with something in my life. I do know that I may run over a small child next time I am biking the trail because I will only look ahead and not down at the pavement. So parents be warned, if you hear a screaming banshee with a bicycle aflame, it is probably just me after an encounter with the legless kind.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
The Pain Of Growing Older
I rode my bike 9 miles tonight to clear my head. To clear my head of the worst case scenarios that had been rendering me blind all day of everything positive in my life.
Biking and running allow me to have a different perspective both in thought and in how I take in my surroundings. Tonight while I was biking, I saw a small rabbit scamper off the trail and into the tall grass. I enjoyed hearing the varying bird calls in the treetops and the rush of cattails as the wind blew. I noted the musk of freshly tilled earth and cut grass.
Every few minutes my mind would wander back to the harsh reality that I faced earlier in the day. I called my mom in the morning to see when she might be coming to the house. I heard my dad in the background and she answered his questions and returned to our conversation to tell me she was concerned with my dad's incoherence. This has been weighing heavily on all of us for the past couple months. Dad has always been active and been conscientious of his health. I was bursting with pride when he took home a medal for winning his age group for walking a 5K a mere 8 months after breaking his neck.
Lately, my dad just hasn't been my dad. On my ride I thought of how my dad has always enjoyed walking and appreciating the beauty nature has to offer. This thought brought me to tears. I thought of the many walks we shared in his hometown of Lapeer at Thanksgiving when we visited Grandma. I was silently praying and thanking God for all the fascinating and funny stories Dad has shared throughout the years of his childhood. I remembered how he said their family fared better than most during World War II because his father was an attorney and some clients would pay with rations of food. I was thankful for all the long trips my dad has taken to provide me with much needed love and comfort. He drove nearly 800 miles round trip when I was in college to ease my homesick heart. He hopped on a plane and flew more than 2000 miles to calm my fears while I was going through a tumultuous divorce. He hugged me and walked with me as I suffered through post-partum depression after the birth of my second son.
This morning, I had to be the one providing comfort. It was excruciatingly painful to hold my mom while she sobbed and said more than once that Dad just isn't himself anymore. My heart weighs heavily and there is an ache in my throat from fighting tears. I've frequently told my boys that they are blessed to have so many loving grandparents in their lives and they should listen closely to what they have to say and enjoy their time with them. I also believe whole-heartedly in allowing my children to be spoiled by their grandparents because I missed having that kind of relationship.
My heart still weighs heavily and the ache is dull, but I feel better taking inventory of how I have been blessed. Tomorrow marks another chapter in all of my family's lives as Mom takes Dad to the doctor to be evaluated for dementia. Mortality is a difficult reality to accept when it comes so close to home. Today is a reminder to hold those you love close and enjoy the time you share.
Biking and running allow me to have a different perspective both in thought and in how I take in my surroundings. Tonight while I was biking, I saw a small rabbit scamper off the trail and into the tall grass. I enjoyed hearing the varying bird calls in the treetops and the rush of cattails as the wind blew. I noted the musk of freshly tilled earth and cut grass.
Every few minutes my mind would wander back to the harsh reality that I faced earlier in the day. I called my mom in the morning to see when she might be coming to the house. I heard my dad in the background and she answered his questions and returned to our conversation to tell me she was concerned with my dad's incoherence. This has been weighing heavily on all of us for the past couple months. Dad has always been active and been conscientious of his health. I was bursting with pride when he took home a medal for winning his age group for walking a 5K a mere 8 months after breaking his neck.
Lately, my dad just hasn't been my dad. On my ride I thought of how my dad has always enjoyed walking and appreciating the beauty nature has to offer. This thought brought me to tears. I thought of the many walks we shared in his hometown of Lapeer at Thanksgiving when we visited Grandma. I was silently praying and thanking God for all the fascinating and funny stories Dad has shared throughout the years of his childhood. I remembered how he said their family fared better than most during World War II because his father was an attorney and some clients would pay with rations of food. I was thankful for all the long trips my dad has taken to provide me with much needed love and comfort. He drove nearly 800 miles round trip when I was in college to ease my homesick heart. He hopped on a plane and flew more than 2000 miles to calm my fears while I was going through a tumultuous divorce. He hugged me and walked with me as I suffered through post-partum depression after the birth of my second son.
This morning, I had to be the one providing comfort. It was excruciatingly painful to hold my mom while she sobbed and said more than once that Dad just isn't himself anymore. My heart weighs heavily and there is an ache in my throat from fighting tears. I've frequently told my boys that they are blessed to have so many loving grandparents in their lives and they should listen closely to what they have to say and enjoy their time with them. I also believe whole-heartedly in allowing my children to be spoiled by their grandparents because I missed having that kind of relationship.
My heart still weighs heavily and the ache is dull, but I feel better taking inventory of how I have been blessed. Tomorrow marks another chapter in all of my family's lives as Mom takes Dad to the doctor to be evaluated for dementia. Mortality is a difficult reality to accept when it comes so close to home. Today is a reminder to hold those you love close and enjoy the time you share.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)