Wednesday, February 18, 2015

A little honesty

I don't think it is too far off that there will be a device that takes the thoughts out of our heads and writes them out for us. I would love to have something like that when I run. Running is a meditation for me. I usually run alone. I run with my thoughts. And I run with the aim of connecting with God as I sort through the stuff on my mind. I'm staring down day 3 of being "snowed-in" here in NC. Arctic weather has set in and I'm loving the extra time with the kids but not loving the winter bite out there enough to make myself run in it. So I have a lot of thoughts built up and I guess I wanted to air them out here.

An encouraging word

Women in my life: I love you. I am uplifted and inspired and encouraged by you. And I don't tell you that enough. And I don't tell myself enough that its okay, and I'm okay and you're more than okay because we're doing our best. Maybe we are hard on us because we don't know if we are doing our best or if we could be doing more. You know? Because we're busy putting everything ahead of ourselves in order or importance and we're just trying to get to the bottom of the list. I don't know what I'm saying here really, it made so much more sense to me the other day when I was running. And, btw, I had to stop and walk like 4 times and couldn't get into a comfortable pace. And I felt like crap about it. Why? Because I'm not an athlete? Because I don't know if I'll ever be able to really finish a marathon… And then I realized that that was okay. There was a time 3 miles might as well have been a marathon because I didn't believe I'd ever be able to run that far. And there was a time before that when I didn't know how I could make it to 2012 because I was so broken and alone and I didn't know how to ask for help so I sunk deeper into isolation. But. Things got better. I got stronger. And I kept going. So. If you are having a hard time with whatever it is, just keep putting one foot in front of the other. It isn't true that "everything is possible". Because it just isn't. But you can change what is possible for YOU

The strength to be vulnerable

I find myself in a vulnerable place. I am going to come clean here and I don't know how its going to work out. I am struggling to make sense of matters of faith. I have come to realize that I can't know the things I want to be sure about. The religious convictions I held so strongly for so long are waning and its hard to accept, its hard to understand. The things that I know are that God is real, that he loves me and that he sent Jesus to atone for the world so that we could overcome our vulnerable nature and be forgiven of our sins. I know for sure I need Jesus Christ in this moment more than anything else. But I feel so alienated from church and doctrine and the religious condescension and smugness that I honestly don't feel I belong to anything. I honestly don't feel at home or accepted anywhere. And I guess I have put myself in this place. But I have to be honest, its a very lonely place, once again. I feel like my LDS friends and family will see me as an apostate and my Christian friends see me as a heretic. And I just want to be a believer. "Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief."Mark 9:24.

I struggle to understand how so many people in the world call themselves a Christian yet treat fellow Christians of different denominations with contempt. Are we not all beggars? Mosiah 4:19? I know I am. 


Friends, I love you. Please don't tell me how to fix this. I am working on it. Prayers would be great. Thanks for listening again. And thanks for being part of my life. My heart is so full with gratitude for all the kindness, all the friendships, and all the understanding I have been granted by you. Hugs all around. 

Thursday, September 18, 2014

The Boatman

It has been a busy couple of months. I had a wedding, moved, went on a family vacation/road trip with our new family of 10. Got started in 4 new schools, started settling into our new place. And I'm learning how to be married to a pilot. I'm learning I love being married again. And I am learning it is still hard work. So many things I should devote entire pages to. And I will. And pictures.

I love my new life, my new home, my new friends. And I love my new family. I feel… just so full up and content when we get to all be together and I see how the kids are loving each other and playing with each other and I can cook for all of them and learn what everyone likes and doesn't like. I love making 6 lunches for school. I love how love expands from the man I fell in love with to the children he is responsible for. And even when it isn't easy, it is still love. And that is a gift and a blessing.

BJay has been on my mind the past few weeks. We just passed the 4 year mark of when BJay died. I was going through some old files and I found this poem I wrote in the days after BJay died. It was all so fresh then, that hurt. But I like that I have stuff like this to remind me how I felt. I had forgotten that Jamie, my little sister made cookies for the kids the day BJay died and they saved some of the cookies for the man in the fishing boat who helped them. I never got to thank that man. He literally disappeared as soon as he came to shore. The children divided their food for him. And it made me think of him as something mythical, or some otherworldly being. I was thinking of Greek mythology here, the boatman who takes people to the other side. And you leave coins for him on the eyes of the dead. And I thought of how hard it would be to have that job. At the time I was seeing people who dealt with the grieving all the time. Funeral home directors, cemetery plot salesmen. These people see grief every day, they live in it. They hear it and see it. And I just think it takes a certain kind of strength to do that, to see it and hear it all the time.

Anyway, that is where this poem came from. Out of all those thoughts. The most important being that BJay, as a father willingly took the place of his children in death. Just as any real father would do. There is dignity and honor in that. And that was and is very important to me, that that is the message that comes across when I talk about what happened to my children's father. I think some day there will be a message that is important for me to show the world about the man who is raising these kids now. And the respect and honor he has for BJay. The men I love are the real kind of superheroes. What a lucky woman I am.  Anyway… enjoy. Or not. ;)

The Boatman

He is always there before you expect him
gliding through a cloudless fog.
Keeping time, keeping constant strait lines-- never far from shore.
The boatman's time keeps pace with tragedy.
With heartache and disembodied cries.
With pain so acute and fresh it can't be contained.
He has to hear and hear and hear, a chorus of anguish,
that is part of the chore.

It is a thankless job, for coins.
And no one ever thinks to give him anything more.
Once in a while he gets to see what is out of place.
The people who don't belong,
ones he can't bear to carry across.
And that is when he takes them back.
Wishing, just once, to reverse the order.

But he can not go back across empty handed.

He guided my children to my arms and
left us standing on the shore.
He took my lover to the great beyond,
because he had to do it.
Because order can not be undone.
Because a father willingly pays the price for that mercy.

I have met him but I did not see his face.
My children know him and they
divide their food.
"For the boatman," they say, because he helped  us.

Monday, May 26, 2014

My New Life

Today I am 37. Yesterday was my birthday. Today I am stuck in the airport in Chicago after missing my flight twice. Twice. First time was totally my fault, I didn't give myself enough time to turn in the rental car but I got on the next flight. When I got there I went right to the gate and waited… and waited. And then I noticed it was 6:20 and I hadn't heard anyone call for boarding so I went looking for someone. No one was at the counter… And the door was closed. Wow. Totally missed that flight while sitting right at the gate! Weird. And there isn't an open flight until tonight. Which would make my total travel time 24 hours if I don't get on this 11:30am flight I'm on standby for. Ugh. I miss my kids. And I miss my fiancĂ©, who, btw is an amazingly sweet man to have in your corner when you're in crisis mode. Even if its your own stupid fault. I love Bill more today than any of the other days because he hears me. He listens. And when I need compassion and gentleness, he is that soft place for me.

I have taken a long hiatus from blogging again. Life got busy. School got busy. And somewhere along the way I fell in love. Also, I'm getting married in 4 days. For those of you who want to know how I got from:

One thing I want to address because people keep bringing it up: The idea of finding love again is of no comfort to me. None. As much as I hate being alone, I hate the idea of doing the work involved in dating even more. And I can't imagine sharing my children with anyone. Dating with 5 kids is not remotely the same thing as dating as a single person. I just don't have enough faith that there exists a man who could fill BJay's shoes and love all 6 of us enough. Also, I'm just not willing to put up with the humiliation of being that single mom of 5 looking for a man. I'm sure there are other ways to think about it, but that is how I feel.
To being in love and about to get married, I will tell you.

So, 8 months ago I did not believe that there existed a man who could love me and my 5 amazing children. I did not believe that it was possible that anyone could look at us as a package deal and say, "Wow, what a privilege and a blessing you all are to me."  When I imagined how it would be to date again, I could only envision rejection and heartache. And I just felt like it was my job as a mother to protect my children from any more hurt. So When anyone would suggest that I should date or that I would find love again--it really did annoy me. I had a partner in life, the children had a dad and that was all taken away from us. So- it felt like an insult in so many ways for me to go out into the world asking for someone to love me and my kids when ultimately, such a request could only end in heartache.

But then I had a complete change of heart. And for me it was like the flipping of a switch. For three years and four months I wasn't ready to think about dating. And then one day I was. I don't know if this is how everyone experiences getting to the point where you feel completely healed and ready to open up your heart, but this is how it worked for me.

I think everything brought me to that point, but it clicked for me when I noticed how my girls would light up around male friends of mine. I saw how much they were starved for a family that included a dad. Girls need fathers, I know that. And so do boys.

So I prayed. And I went to the temple and prayed. And I fully gave to God and BJay all my fear and trepidation about what it was going to mean to find and nurture love again. Because I knew I needed a man who could love my children--but I also knew that I couldn't settle for anything less than deep, abiding real love. I had that, I knew how good it was--and I wanted it again.

Enter Bill the Pilot

Does it matter how we met? (Online dating) I have felt God's hand in my life more than ever since BJay died. I have felt since the moment I knew BJay was gone and me and my world shattered that I could trust that God would guide me to protect and take care of my children. So when I met Bill the Pilot, I recognized something in him. He wasn't anything I thought I was looking for. And I wasn't anything he thought he was looking for. But there was a recognition immediately for both of us that something important was happening.

Bill saw that I was a widow and living near Fayetteville and assumed that I was a war widow. And he had compassion for me and my children because he is a Gulf War veteran. And that compassion only grew when he learned about BJay and how he died. And he wasn't one bit intimidated by the fact that I still love BJay and that we had an amazing marriage and life together. He also didn't flinch at the fact that I had 5 children. It was crazy how easy it was to talk to Bill and share with him my thoughts and feelings. And when I eventually allowed him to meet my children--it was amazing how they immediately warmed to him. And there was a softness about Bill with them that put me at ease.

The first time we met, Bill prayed with me. The first real date Bill took me on was just as bold. He took me to the beach where BJay died. I hadn't been back there. It was an amazingly healing experience. Ever since we met, Bill has always been thoughtful and compassionate. When I look back at the past 4 months--I really can't believe it has only been 4 months. So much has happened. I finished my last semester in grad school. I got a job. And I met and fell in love with an amazing man who loves me and my children back. I got engaged. And I'm getting married in 4 days!!

When I said I miss my old life, I meant it. Eight months ago I couldn't imagine that life would ever be that good again. What I could not have imagined was how good my new life feels. This journey God gave me has been every bit as difficult as it has been amazing and wonderful. Every struggle is matched with overcoming. Every challenge ends with some kind of victory. Everything God takes, he restores again. I always trusted God. I just could never have imagined the way he put me back together. And I certainly couldn't have imagined how he could make it right to my children.

I love my new life.

Friday, September 13, 2013

A long time coming

I realized last month that I had forgotten the day BJay died. I hadn't forgotten that day, but the date. I couldn't remember if it was the 10th or the 13th. I had to look it up. I try not to put much stock in this day. Today, three years ago was the worst day of my life. To mark this day, to make something of it feels wrong to me. I will never forget. It comes back to me all the time. I have always felt there is nothing worse about this day than any other day that I live without my husband. It will still be hard tomorrow as it was last week. However, the body just won't forget. I have felt on edge this week, and yesterday a feeling of heaviness settled deep into my heart and bones. Three years ago last night was the best night of my life. Three years ago this morning was the worst morning of my life. It is remarkable how quickly life can change. Even more when you start to realize the permanence of it.

I think I ended year one and two with hopefulness. The first year was surviving, the second year I started to feel as if I could manage. This year has been a tough year because, while I've learned how to be an only parent and I've evolved into a version of myself I feel is a pretty good incarnation--I have hit a wall of anger I just can't seem to get past. The road seems so long ahead of me. I am so angry that I have to walk this road alone and I don't know how far it goes. I am tired. I am maxed out. And there really isn't anything anyone can do to make it easier. The fact is, nobody in this world will ever be as invested in my children as I am, and as BJay was. It is a heavy thing, being responsible for 5 children. Even if I get a "break" and leave them with someone I trust I worry the whole time about them because I know no one else knows and loves them as I do. It breaks my heart to know that are missing out on having a dad. It isn't fair.

One thing I want to address because people keep bringing it up: The idea of finding love again is of no comfort to me. None. As much as I hate being alone, I hate the idea of doing the work involved in dating even more. And I can't imagine sharing my children with anyone. Dating with 5 kids is not remotely the same thing as dating as a single person. I just don't have enough faith that there exists a man who could fill BJay's shoes and love all 6 of us enough. Also, I'm just not willing to put up with the humiliation of being that single mom of 5 looking for a man. I'm sure there are other ways to think about it, but that is how I feel.

I am thankful for my good friends who get me through the hard moments, lonely nights and share my small triumphs when they come. I am happy a lot of the time, I can find joy in the moment most of the time and I love and adore my sweet children. I am taking it one day at a time, and I can do this. It isn't at all easy though.

I miss my old life.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Spotlight on Amanda Gowin: real beauty

Summer has been a slow blur so far. It feels like it has been more than 2 weeks, but also those two weeks have just evaporated into the ether without much to show for it. I have a few other excuses for not blogging, but the short of it is, I am scared.

I have put off this spotlight because, mostly, I am so intimidated by Amanda Gowin I don't know that I could fully explain her in a way that would do her justice. And that isn't fair. So, I'm just starting with an apology. I wish I could do this better! And I promise to do my best.

First off, I think the first interaction I had with this girl is what defined her, for me. Amanda is a writer, so already I am in awe because I know that takes mental stamina that I just don't seem to have. Back to first impression. I noticed Amanda had posted a picture of herself with her hair shaved and I think I commented that she has a really nice shaped head, and probably (making it about me) I said something about how I could never rock a shaved head because my head is flat in the back. I'm vain. In my younger, less experienced days I used to think if I got cancer I would forgo chemotherapy because I wouldn't want to lose my hair. Because I would be ugly? That was before I had kids. Anyway, this girl-- Amanda, replied that a cousin (I believe) of hers was, in fact, battling cancer and that she had shaved her head in support. I think Amanda said something like, "I wanted to make the point that it's only hair." It's only hair. That idea stopped me dead in my tracks. First of all, the gesture... It was just so beautiful. And second of all, I'm not sure I have progressed so far as a human that I have that kind of perspective. I should be. I "met" Amanda after BJay died. So I should have known already that nothing in the world matters more than life. More than health. That baubles and things, and hair, are just not that big of a deal. Things can be replaced, hair grows back. But life is right now, and it is all that really matters, it is all we really have of value.

So, as the kind of person who has this vital perspective at such a young age, Amanda is one of those women you admire. But not in a petty, female way. People like her. And not because she is pretty, not necessarily because she is one of those super fun moms who makes the job look glamorous. And probably not even because she seems to be one of those super cool wives who doesn't seem to take for granted how fortunate she is to have found and nourished love. I'm pretty sure it is because she may have been born fully-formed as a woman who emerged from the ocean with a complete understanding of her place in the universe. I'm kidding. Sort of. I really think what makes Amanda so likable is that she is a little bit too wise. It seems to me that she's comfortable in her own skin, that somehow she holds the reigns to her own insecurities. And having that kind of hold on herself, she's able to lift other people up. That is the kind of strength that drives our species forward. That is real beauty.

Monday, May 6, 2013

Facebook Friend Spotlight on Sean P Ferguson

I am at this really strange intersection in my life where I am questioning everything I do and think and believe. I wonder if it is a midlife crisis? Anyway, a funny thing happened after I wrote about my Facebook friend Craig Wallwork. After writing that I wanted to be the kind of person who can be there for my friends, I had the opportunity several times to practice what I preached. It was like the universe heard me and threw the words right back in my face, saying, "prove it". So it turns out, this silly idea I had to spotlight my friends is becoming my midlife crisis social experiment. Brought to you by social media. The experiment is now this: How I would reshape myself drawing from the extraordinary qualities of the people I am friends with on Facebook. Or: How can I Frankenstein myself into a better person by vampiring the best qualities of my Facebook friends list. 

I was overwhelmed trying to decide who I could prey on next, then I decided to ask Craig to pick for me. He gave me 3 names. To decide my lucky victim at random, I asked my friend Mr. Corbier to choose a number between 1-3. The name associated with the number he chose was:

Sean P. Ferguson

Not to be confused with Shawn Ferguson, who is another of my facebook friends. We used to close our eyes and think about things while being photographed back in high school. I may have to write about him another day. :)

The Sean P. Ferguson I'm talking about right now also has no idea I'm stealing pictures of him to put on my blog. I just got an A in my behavioral ethics class, so I'm not sure this is right. Hopefully I'll be forgiven. Just in case, I'm using a picture of Sean partially hidden behind a great book with some gorgeous legs on it. ;)

I met this Sean for real in the flesh when I went to Boston a few months ago. I don't know Sean very well, we don't have a lot of history. So I started asking a few of our mutual friends for some input. But then I decided that should be against the rules. I should focus mostly on the things I know. I have included just a couple quotes because they are sweet. So there are three things I can tell about Sean even with very limited exposure:

1. Sean loves his people.  If you are lucky enough to make the cut into his friends list, he will love you like you're his family. I don't know a lot of people like that. I think it takes a very courageous kind of vulnerability to love people, to say it and mean it. And to mean it without any kind of selfish agenda. I admire that. I don't have the guts to open my heart up like that. I want to be able to love that kind of strong.
 "my son said he loved me as much as all the hearts out of everybody's chests in the whole world all mashed together and put together to make his body. that's the way sean is - the way he loves people. i don't how to put it better than that." --Amanda Gowin
2. This is a guy you want in your corner. I think you can tell a lot about a person by what they chose to do for a living. Certain professions are dominated by the good people. I really believe that. Sean is a *Paramedic. And I think there is just something special about the people who chose to be the ones who run toward the disasters. People who deal with the best and worst of society every day, and somehow don't get completely beat down by it. I wish I had a Sean to watch The Following with. Or, to ride with me in unregistered taxis in India in the middle of the night. Or, sometimes to just take out the trash at night when the ghosts are looming in the tall black pines.

I know when you are unlucky enough to need a *paramedic, they show up and take charge of a bad situation. They can deal with blood and poo and vomit all while alleviating your pain and anxiety. That is how my friend Pela describes Sean as a friend and writer for Manarchy. "He's not above doing any or all of the grunt work of a project." She also said that he was just made something like press secretary (?) for his local Democratic headquarters. Yeah, he's one of the good ones.

3. He's funny. My older sister is also a paramedic. I had a conversation with her that still intrigues me about the dark humor that she and her colleagues have developed to handle seeing some of the things they see. I read, I don't think it was a story--just a vent maybe about a day in the life of Sean that involved a pretty gruesome murder he had to clean up after that I still can't get out of my head. The way he wrote it was somehow hilarious as much as it was horrifying. And I guess that is what makes funny people funny. They are able to take the horrifying or disgusting and messy parts of life, turn them inside out and make them funny. They can take uncomfortable emotions and give them a pleasant outlet. And that is probably one of the best qualities there is. And to be clear, I don't think a lot of Sean's humor is dark. He's just a funny person. I don't know if it is possible to develop the ability to be funny--in the moment--like that. But if it is, I want to.
"Ferg once shat on a copy of Down Periscope. He is crude and disgusting and perfect and awesome. He will be there for you if you need, with a good word and a fart joke. Hard working and hard living son of a bitch. Helped me sculpt great stories out of bad ones. He is a good friend." --Chris Deal
I will laugh at fart jokes every time. Every single time. Farts are just funny.

So. Thank you, Sean P. Ferguson, for existing so well and for wearing mean hats. (That was Caleb J. Ross) I am lucky to know you. (That is me)

And now, if you wouldn't mind playing along, please message me just one friend from my friend's list I can pick on next. :)

* Update-- I'm told by Sean that he has never been a paramedic. Only an EMT--which is the same thing to most of us. Also, he no longer works as an EMT because of an injury. Currently he works for the Sheriff's department dispatching EMS, police, and the fire department and taking 911 calls. I don't think these facts change what I've said, but for accuracy's sake I am putting this update in here. He's still a good one, and he's still works in a profession that says all good things about him. :)