june tune

Things are a little better.  I’m not just saying that because we moved to VA or because I’m finding something to do every day.  I bet those things help, but they aren’t why I’m better.  I believe it has to do with several recent inner-arguments.  Some of it was prayer, and some of it was me yelling at myself.  I wouldn’t say I’m at 100%, but really, who ever is?  I think at our best, most can say we’re in the 80s.  I’m almost in the 80s.

Olive loves the new life here.  No.  She loves her new life here.  She has a backyard to run in without being on a leash.  She has two bigger dogs to play with and on and under and around.  She has her couch.

She has her people (us) and new people.  She loves people.  She sits below my mom during guitar time and seems to love listening.  I don’t know if that’s true, but she’ll actually sit there the whole time.  I think she loves it.  Literally, this move is the best thing that has happened to her.  And it’s easy to be happy when I think about how happy she is.

I’m hopeful every day that the peace and joy that I know can be a part of my life will one day return.  I’m not just sitting around waiting for it…and I’m not exactly jumping up and grabbing it, yet.  For now, just knowing it is there and attainable is a step in the right direction.

Moreover, overheard at last night’s Farkel game:

Gammy: How many points do I need to win?

Brian: Um…let me see…(very many points needed)…heh.  *lowered eyebrows, blinking*

Gammy: What, you can’t count that high?

OOOOOOOOOOOOH SNAP!

D is for many things…

People either write too much about depression, or they don’t mention it at all.  Sorry.  Blanket statement.  Truthfully, it’s just all-encompassing, so I sorta understand.  When you have a difficult time finding the energy to do, I don’t know, ANYTHING, it’s kinda hard to really think about a normal life with normal stuff in it.  Maybe putting all of my attention on this ridiculously impossible load of laundry will help me get it done, or some such.  It’s one of the reasons I’ve not posted in a long while, nor have I kept up with my friends in the way I’d like for the past few months.  So here is my post on depression.  I promise it won’t be a series.

My life has been pretty poor lately.  I’m not speaking solely of our financial situation – I’ve been depressed and…unhinged.  I don’t know how else to say it.  Removed from society for the most part, outside of the news that I see on-line.  I’ve had no interest in really discussing it with people because I hate that annoying sad person.  I don’t want to be the pity party planner and draw all those wrinkled faces from people in my life.  Not because I think you guys are ugly that way, I just hate giving people a reason to feel bad.  I’d like to put on the happy face and have everything just…work out.  And maybe it will!  I’m not so far gone that I can’t imagine a bright future.  If I get to that point, further action must be taken.  For now, I’m trying to muddle through the fog with this ripped up map.  Causes?  I dunno.  Probably a combination of some negative events in my life in 2009, along with some other stuff.  But I swear, it’s not ‘woe is me’.  I just wanted to write it somewhere that I care about my friends and family.  And I appreciate those in my world who care.  I truly do, even if I haven’t been the absolute best at sharing it.  Can’t really see it now, but I’m gonna be fine.

Right.

Holy 10 months, Batman.

The rest of 2009 was really one disappointment after another.  2010 has yet to prove itself.  I’m not going to dwell on these things…or am going to try not to.

Why does everyone have to be right all the time?  I’m tired of everyone knowing everything, and thinking that their way is It.  I know there have to be some absolutes, and those remain outside the scope of this blog post.  But I was following a thread the other day and stumbled across a post about child-rearing.  If you want to see nice people turn mean faster than the twitter trend of MJ’s death, just start talking about whether or not you spank your kid.  Seriously.  Not only was everyone right, but EVERYONE ELSE was wrong.  This isn’t just for the momentarily strong anonymous that we so often see on the internet.  Politicians know everything.  Scientists know everything.  Anyone who’s ever been right before, must certainly be right now.  I don’t think we’re all dumb to believe this fallacy, but that doesn’t stop everyone from being so ‘right’.  We all get annoyed with the Kanyes and what’s-her-face Cyrus-types because they are so blatantly obvious.  I’m not even going to credit them with “Well at least you don’t hide it!” because arrogance isn’t something to reward…but there is this thing about society today that keeps people from admitting wrong and/or open-mindedness in general.  It’s not a new concept; “Me-ism” is rampant.  We all know that.  WE KNOW.  see??

inhibitions

I always think allergies are just allergies until I have serious congestion, a sore throat and a headache.  Even then I try to play it off as ‘bad allergies’ but this morning I gave in and bought cold medicine.  For my allergies.

Was thinking about my life the other day and I can hear you yawning now and x’ing out but that’s cool.  Most people have a few things they are really good at doing.  Brian has photography and the ability to write.  My sister has a serious way with kids; nurturing doesn’t even come close to describing her.  Mom: physical and mental science.  I can think of everyone in my life and place them in some spot or general area of spots in terms of their abilities, interests and strengths.  Some people have a few spots or like five at which they’re mostly good…

I’m good at nothing!  I truly, other than navigating a car (I’m pretty awesome on roadtrips), cannot think of one thing with which to associate myself.  I can (and won’t ) sit here and tell you a few things that I’m pretty good at, though they wouldn’t be considered ‘strengths’ by any stretch of the imagination.  It’s a weird thing to write about  because I promise you I’m not fishing for compliments or for the great people in my life to tell me that I’m worth something – in fact I’ll close comments because it truly isn’t about that.  Maybe it’s hard for us to see our strengths on our own?  Brian thinks he sucks as a photographer, which is mind-numbingly ridiculous.  He has issues with self esteem, and so do I but I just wish there were one thing that I could really call a calling.  It accounts for me not knowing what to do with my career or how to tell people what’s going on in my life.  Sure, I have a job and I’m taking some courses…but that’s nothing to write home about.

Maybe I will let the comments through if there are some – Have you ever felt placeless?  You do things and please people but your goals are foggy and distant?  Lemme know if you have felt this way or do now because it’d be nice to know that I’m not alone in this.

Gary Hathcock

In general, I don’t think a father-in-law is supposed to mean so much to the girl his son married.  I don’t apologize for this, but my thoughts and feelings about him don’t outline the supposed law of ‘father by marriage.’  My parents are second to my husband and then just below my sister and grandmother are my in-laws…as much a part of me as anything physical.

Grateful doesn’t really cut it, because while I will always be eternally in debt for getting to know him as well as I did, I’ll also wish it were for longer.  Grateful doesn’t bring people back.

Honored isn’t right, though it is.  Two of my favorite pictures of him are at our wedding, and I’m honored that he would share his son with me…that he would drive so far for our wedding…that he would consider me a daughter.  Being honored makes the separation harder.

So I sit here in my hotel room with lots of work to do and the sting of his leaving us still heavy on my life.  My promise was never to be good at adjectives or saying how I feel.  I’d never make that promise to myself or anyone else.  But to take a stab at it, I feel lost without him, knowing that our lives will always be different and weird in some way.  Also, other than my parents, I’ve never made a serious goal of trying to be more like another person…we should be happy with our own inconsistencies and achievements.  But I hope to turn a lot of this grief into an education of how to live.  I want to look back at this time years from now and still remember how much he loved his family, how Jesus Christ was the most important thing in his life, and how unimportant the office job is when all things are considered.  I want to remember his laugh, his singing voice, his sense of peace-making among the brothers.  I am writing this down to later recall his old car, torn suitcases, 92 cent flashlights, plaid button-down shirts.  The fact that he’d never write a paragraph with as many “I” statements as this one.  Charles Dickens, chess, intense Bible study, the white shirt he wore to the beach.  Calluses on his hands from hard labor, Tar heels basketball, light looking and M&M cookies.  The lower spot on his side of the bed where he spent hours on his knees in prayer.

I wish more people had known him so that they could have a better idea of how we all should live.  I’m lucky to take his lessons with me, and hope to someday know the peace that he now knows.

And my greatest wish for anyone I’ve ever cared about is that you’ll leave this earth with the life behind you and the future ahead of you that Gary Hathcock claims.

a good week

Outside of missing Brian and Olive, this week has been decent.  The horrid things I’ve said about Maryland in the past may soon be revoked.

Meanwhile – “No, we do not have ‘bartending’ at our liberal arts university, ma’am.”

Guh.

almost 6 months old

Snow Day - March 2, 2009

taking notice

Saying that my house is old is an understatement.  Here’s an idea of how aged our rental home is: if you throw a ball for the dog, it doesn’t stop for a LONG time because once it gets close to stopping, it hits a dip in the linoleum and goes another direction for a while before it hits yet another curve in the floor and heads the opposite way.  As you can imagine, this is great fun for the puppy.  She’ll run after her ball and then watch it turn and follow it around the house.  I’d be more annoyed with our warped floor if it didn’t provide such enjoyment for her.

More indications that our home is from another time are random hooks in the ceiling.  I’m not sure if these are plant hooks, or ones upon which you might find a hanging lamp…maybe my living room was at some point the bleeding out room of a slaughterhouse?  Whatever their purpose used to be, they now have a new job.

They are the very reason Olive gets up in the morning.

She wakes up with us, runs into the living room and looks up at them.  If they are there (they’ve never moved), she will then eat breakfast and sit by the door for her morning potty.  We enjoy movie night in this room and she normally heats my lap while her long body is in a half moon shape.  She sleeps through war scenes, laughter, and the alien coming out of Kane.  Nothing stirs her.  Roughly twice during the course of a movie, she jumps out of her (always) deep sleep.  She whips her head around, often with alarming speed, and checks on her hooks.  Whew, still there.  I think she dreams about them.

There is one hook in our bedroom, right above where Brian sleeps.  Of course, the jokes have all been made, and he noted a few years ago that should it fall on him, he’d get quite a bump.  Olive sleeps at our feet usually, with our legs as the hot dog buns, and will wake up in the night to come check out her hook.  This involves a great deal of maneuvering through blankets, waking us up, etc.  There is nothing else in our house or her life that enthralls her as much as the blasted hooks.

I was thinking about her peculiarity recently.  She must, at all times, know about them.  It seems really strange to me, but then again, should it?  What do I keep close tabs on without reason?   Where is the line between taking in creation and becoming overly interested?  I’m not trying to get too philosophical here–there is nothing wrong with taking the time to notice the world around you.  I just wonder what I could have accomplished with that time, were it put to a cause that means something.  That’s probably just the workaholic in me.

unpossible.

This doesn’t seem like it could be real.  I’m posting it anyway.

all you need is trust and…a little bit of insanity?

Every time I wake up, I notice that spring cleaning fairies have come through my house, rearranging all of the furniture, cleaning a different spot than before, and making the house look a little bigger.  I don’t know what has gotten into him, but I’m not going to say one word.  This illness is one that I’d like for him to keep, thankyouverymuch.