Another stab at self discipline

I read somewhere that writing is a skill that should be practiced, like a piano. It’s not like riding a bike (although that is also a bad analogy because I tried riding a bike recently and it did not go well) or driving a stick shift. So, in the interest of maintaining the skill, I have decided to write again. Now, I am going to shutter this particular blog and return to the one I’ve been writing at since 2006. Why? In the interest of streamlining my life, I don’t want to remember 2 places.  You can go here to read it.   

Happy Mother's Day!

Found languishing in the drafts folder..I have no idea why I didn’t hit the PUBLISH button in this one, but here it is on the last day of July.

Happy Mother's Day to all y'all with kids, young and old. Mine are getting up there, 3 in their mid-30's and 1 in his mid-20's. All of them still middle school-aged in my head, but that's logical given that I'm still in my mid-30's mentally. I turned 59 this year. What a concept, nearly 60 and probably 10 years past 1/2 way to my expiration date (as far as I can tell, only God knows and I'm ok with that. )

Being a mother has been amazing, challenging in myriad ways, and quite the growth experience. I've needed help all the way through it, from God, from the kids father, Himself, and from Capt, my most recent beloved. God chose to take Himself and Capt to Heaven and honestly, it was probably the best thing for both of them, as life was getting pretty uncomfortable for them. I don't look at it as something God did to me, but more as something He did for them. What a wonderful thing and eventually He will do it for me AND FOR MY KIDS! That has been the biggest gift of my life, each of them finding their way, guided through experience and circumstance, and by The Good Shepherd, into the flock of His sheep. I think of that daily, thank Him for it, and wonder at the paths they took, as well as my own, crooked, full of digressions and attempts at finding my our ways (those NEVER worked, I hope we've learned at this point!). I am sure more mistakes will happen, more incidents of personal attempts and failures and returns. 

The fact is, my kids have prevailed and I am so proud of them! Each in their own ways, each with their own stories of falls and redemptions, and returns to God's comfortable haven. I look at each one, seeing who they were when they were infants, toddlers, younglings making their own decisions in their own ways and so proud of how they turned out, even when there were periods of fear and anxiety about their lives....would they even survive? They did, and the relief, every day, that they made it through, is miraculous. Thank You, God, for protecting them.

My own mother had her own circumstances that she made it through, both in her life and in watching me make my own (poor) choices then coming through, ending up with Himself, then Capt, and my own kids. Her calm nature and methods of handling crises carried over to me, and how I handle them. I appreciate that. Her gardening, love of plants and flowers, love of learning a new skill, her sewing, all of those things are carried on by me, as perfectly normal things because that's what I grew up with. I am thankful for that. 

For those of you with wonderful mothers, Happy Mother's Day, with children who have survived and prevailed, Happy Mother's Day! For those of you who have survived a rough childhood, You Made It! You have prevailed in the face of adversity! You may even be your OWN mother, looking after your own self and doing the best you can, congratulations, YOU MADE IT.

I did the thing....

 March 18, 2024. This languished in the drafts folder until just now. (July 30) 

Last week, I did the thing. I made a trip, by myself, for myself. As I was returning home, there was much pondering on it all. It was the first time EVER I had made a trip by myself, for myself, with no real agenda other than DOING IT to see if I could. And I could, did, and will again, Lord willing.

Several months ago, I decided to return to Key Largo, after 3 years. Capt and I went several times and love (loved...maybe he still does?) The Keys. It's warm, there's plenty of water, a laid back attitude, and lots of fresh seafood. Dressing Up means putting on the good flip flops. Anyway I wanted to do it again. Maybe a bit to revisit memories, perhaps to make a few new ones, certainly to pugnaciously insist on Doing It sans supervision. 

So I rented a cute little trailer in an RV park via AirBnB, stocked the fridge with wine, crackers, and salad, and set out. Now, The Keys are full of state parks with labeled flora and occasional fauna in the form of iguanas and other lizards. (also bugs but there's sprays for that), and I love me some flora and fauna. Also being March, it wasn't super hot/sticky. Just enough warmth to be able to wear t-shirts and shorts and flip flops. State parks were visited without a single person complaining about being bored or making plans to do other things. In fact, with the exception of a couple of planned dive trips (because reservations were necessary), there were no plans made at all. 

About the dive trips, I went through Silent World Dive Center in Key Largo (highly recommend!) and saw 3 sites....Horseshoe Reef, Christ of the Abyss, and a wreck which name I can't remember but it was pretty interesting. There was a 4th one planned but 1/2 way through the wreck dive I started getting super queasy, so got back on the boat and spent the next 1/2 hour feeding my breakfast to the fish. So I chose not to do it. The seas were kind of rough, even and even 25 feet down they were sort of rocking around. Yes, I took Bonine and normally that works well and I hate to think how I'd felt if I hadn't taken it. At any rate, the waters were clear and I saw many pretty things. It felt good to get back into the water and realize I COULD do it, on my own-ish. The nice thing about Silent World is that they found me a dive buddy both times, so it was safe and comfortable.  I feel fairly confident about the trip to Bonaire now (in June).

I made a decision. On the second day of the trip, I went to Theater of the Sea, and saw a dolphin show, among many other things. I was taking pictures, trying to get some Good Ones, and realized I was watching the show in order to get good pictures, instead of simply to enjoy it. The camera was put down, and the moment was lived in. I spent the rest of the trip doing that, living in the moment, just enjoying it. I'd taken the underwater cameras and go-pro, but never used them, because I wanted to live in the moment and simply enjoy it. That was kind of liberating, really. So I don't have anything to show other people, but so what? I have memories, and if one day I forget them, then I do. I bought a couple of cool souvenirs, and that's good enough. 

I realized I can live in the moment sometimes. Plans aren't always necessary. Sometimes they are, sure, but sometimes they aren't. I also realized I've been under the authority of someone else all my life. Now the only authority I have is God, the only person to whom I'm accountable is God. I don't need permission, nor do I have to run it by someone else, I can just GO. 

I got to see a good friend who lives in a town midway from here to there. It was WONDERFUL! I hadn't seen her in 20 years and to see that she and her husband are doing so well was a lovely, lovely thing. We enjoyed our time together, rekindled an old, old (like...nearly 50 years old) friendship, and I realized we still have a lot in common. She looks nearly the same...she said I do as well, sweet woman. 

All that said, it was good to get home. To my own mess, bed, dog, coffee maker. My own comfortable recliner, heating pad, shower and soap, and water. Who knew that different water could feel so strange? There was a huge pile of junk mail...seriously. Out of all that mail there was 1 important thing. pfft. Paperless society indeed. 

God has indeed created a lovely and interesting world. The underwater part is sort of like being on another planet. It looks different, light is different. Flora and fauna are different and even misleading because most of the "flora" is actually fauna. And jellyfish! This creature without a brain or a discernable nervous system has behavior and functions! There were a lot of them, but not the stinging scary type, just these clear blobs derping around. They are fascinating. Beautiful fish of all colors and shapes. Some of them are tasty too. Grouper. Yum. 

I learned a lot about myself: that I am capable on my own, that people are generally kind if you're kind to them. I was treated very well all around, but I was also respectful to everyone I spoke to. I can do hard things like...I don't know....none of it seemed very hard. I missed my people. Capt, Himself, my boys. But I also found that I'm rational and sensible, for the most part, and if I can be flexible then things go well.

I had a dive trip planned for Monday, but Shelby, at Silent World, called and asked if I'd mind rescheduling due to rough seas and my back issues possibly not being very compatible. That she was willing to do that was super sweet, in my opinion. Everyone I met was wonderful. People at gas stations up and down Florida. Servers at restaurants. Random strangers at the grocery stores. Seriously, I didn't come across a single person who wasn't respectful or kind. It kind of reminded me that people treat you the way you treat them, y'know? That is a universal truth, in my experience. It is unrelated to race, color or creed. Literally EVERYONE I met was kind and respectful, probably because I was as well, but that is how life should be lived, in my opinion. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" really does work.

Also, coffee in Venice, Fla...yum, y'all.

Sometimes it's hard to think of

I've been going through photographs from trips taken, times sitting on the back patio in the evening, stuff done I felt like photographing for no other reason than to do it. It's hard to think, coming across a photo of Himself, and of Capt, that those men don't exist on this Earth anymore. Himself woodworking, or calmly enjoying a cigar and a bourbon at the end of the day. Capt standing in the waves of St. Croix, or trying on a new hat. All pictures of real events, real men, who actually were HERE and now aren't. To think that they don't exist here is hard. No one is going to walk through the door at the end of the day, or sketch out plans for another greenhouse, or research places to stay on some small Caribbean island, or suggest a long weekend in the North Georgia mountains. All that's gone, the sharing of the ideas and making of plans for a trip.

Now it's on me to do that. Make the plans, that is. A while back it was a trip with a friend to Barcelona. Now THAT was a trip. You see, the genesis of that trip occurred after Himself died. I got to be friends with a woman from church, and we fantasized about making a trip to Barcelona. Then after Capt died, I called her up and said "Let's do it" and we did. That started it all. 

Now, I'm making more plans. A short trip to the Keys with a friend made me realize that I did indeed want to return to diving. So I went to the local dive shop, scheduled a refresher class and got my equipment checked over. In a week I am leaving, by myself, for a week in the Keys. A small house rented, reservations for a couple of dives secured and paid for, and JOY!! A dear friend from high school, who I haven't seen in 20 years, invited me to stay with her on the way down and back up, as she lives about 2/3 the way there, perfect timing for a stop. That makes the trip double special. I'll let you know how it goes.

I've also scheduled a trip in late June to go to Bonaire (a small island off the coast of Venezuela) with a group of people for the purpose of diving the stellar coral reefs there. Not going alone, but also not going specifically with a Person. Capt was always my dive Person. We would go all over Florida, into the Caribbean, just the 2 of us, to see amazing things. Making these trips without him is doing something he would want me to do, and in fact instructed prior to his death. I'll let you know how it goes.

This Fall, maybe November, I want to go NORTH. To Iceland, specifically. I've heard tell that a trip there is pretty spectacular and there are 3 solid bucket list items I could check off. First: Northern lights. Very weather dependent, I know, but I won't see them in Alabama, that's for sure. Second: A volcano. They're having all sorts of volcanic issues there and I'm much more likely to see one there than here in Alabama. Third: Snorkel a tectonic rift. That's right. 2 continents meet each other and there's an opportunity to actually swim in it. I could dive, if I were dry-suit certified, which I am not, but I can snorkel it without needing any sort of extra education. Maybe one day. Probably not, as dry suits are unnecessary for Caribbean diving and I don't foresee enough cold water dives to justify the expense (and yes, they are exPENSive!) Anyway, Iceland is in the possibility list. It will get further investigations upon the return from Bonaire. I touched base with the woman I went to Spain with, and she's keen on the idea of joining me, depending on all the circumstances lining up well.

So yes, I'm traveling. I'm discovering my own voice, my own way, courage to do it all without relying on someone else. Scary, yes, a bit. It took more courage than you'd think to walk into the dive shop but many of the people there know me and were warm and welcoming. It's an exciting prospect, getting back into the sport Capt introduced me to. 

But I miss them. At night, I will roll over and scratch the fluffy little dog who's decided the best place to sleep is shoved up into the small of my back. His presence is comforting, but it's not Himself, or Capt. The mental dissonance of missing 2 men, although in different ways, is sometimes uncomfortable. I had 30 years with Himself, growing up together, kids, moves, career changes. his death felt like I'd been split in half. It was sudden and completely unexpected. I had 1 week short of 5 years with Capt. He had been sick for 6 months, gradually sliding downhill, but I never thought it would come to THAT end. Not as....I don't know....horrifying. Frightening, confusing, or messy. Just sad and kind of discouraging. 

Now? Pfft. I have no interest in doing it again. Not right now. I can't speak for the future or who I may meet but right now...nope. It hurts too much when it ends. It's too hard to explain to someone the feelings, and well, it's just too complicated. Where would I live? This house is a one-person house and I don't want to move. I have friends I can go to movies with, have meals out, and blessed, blessed solitude. 

I have gotten more involved with church. I joined the choir. The director asked if I'd sing soprano, as he was informed of my alto status initially. Unusual for a choir, we're short on sopranos. Anyway, I said sure, I'll see if I can squeeze out a high F or a G in a pinch, but don't expect more than that. It's fun and I like to sing. Occasionally I will fill in for a sick or unavailable person with the Mother's Morning Out program, which gives me a solid 3 hours of holding babies or corralling toddlers. I love little ones, in small doses, so it's just perfect. The occasional pot-luck dinner means 2 dozen deviled eggs. Breakfast with 5 other women once a week. Taco Tuesday with 2 of them. Plenty enough social life to keep me from becoming a weird hermit, but not so much I get frazzled with it. 

I also started going to a Personal Trainer in August. That has done wonders for strength and flexibility. I also simply ENJOY it. I didn't think I would ever say this....but I enjoy exercise. Having a person with training who puts me through paces means it gets done as well. Sure, I could probably do 75% of it at home but I also know it would never happen. There's something about having someone encourage you through it, correct posture and stance, cheer you on...that makes it easier and more fun. I also get to complain like a Gen Xer about the music, and occasionally they have The Good Stuff (you know, AC/DC, Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin) going. But I never once expected to enjoy it so much. Also....muscles. wow. 

Ok so that's what's going on right now. God knows what He's doing with my life and I have learned over time to accept that and roll with it. No more "BUT WHYYYYY" or feeling like I'm picked on. God didn't TAKE these men from me! He GAVE them the perfect gift of getting to join Him! I love them too much to want to deny them that! 

And it doesn't get any better than that.

One month in....

Here it is, one month into 2024. Wasn't Blade Runner based in 2021 or something? Maybe it was that post-apocalyptic one with Mel Gibson...my post-menopausal brain that's so full of life experiences won't remember the names of unimportant things like movies. I can remember where I saw a specific Lego (under the table by the front door) or how much flour to use when making a loaf of bread (3 cups), but those are useful things. Anyway, where was I...Right. Future predictions that didn't turn out that way. I'm thankful for that. Maybe eventually they will be that way or maybe Mankind will always retain a modicum of decency and it will be more like Star Trek with a Prime Directive to be nice and let people be who they are. One can hope.  

I was thinking about it all earlier this morning, sitting on a warm heating pad (back issues), wrapped in a flannel robe with a cup of coffee on the table beside me. It's a cute little table Dad made in woodshop class in high school. He thinks it's terrible because he sees all the mistakes. I think it's wonderful because it's 70 years old and he made it, and it's stinkin' CUTE. Anyway, there I was thinking about stuff. About how my life has made these screeching direction changes, and how I managed (sometimes poorly, sometimes fairly well) to carry on. Technology cooperates beautifully with my tendency to get distracted and forget the important things (like paying bills, or eating). I only have one bill I have to actually PAY, rather than automatic draft, and they send me a monthly reminder. Once in a while I have forgotten to pay it and got a polite "yoohoo" email. Now I am cooking meals for my parents, and I won't forget to feed them so naturally there's cooked food right there and I might as well eat it. 

But those aformentioned screeching changes, they...y'know...change a person. What's important has changed. A need to Stay Alive, that's not so important anymore. Not that I'm depressed and trying to die, it's just not so...critical, I guess. I've also changed priorities. I spend more time with my family and less time trying to figure out which outfit or shoes to buy, looking for a bigger and better (whatever) to acquire. I have plenty, more than enough. Now I want to gather experiences. 

I am going out there and experiencing the heck out of this world, as much as I can. That trip to Spain created an opening to the rest of the world. This country has so much to offer, and so does everywhere else. God's creation is incredible, all over. I'm also learning the joys of solo travel. Not having to figure out where WE want to go or what WE want to do. If I make a decision and the sandwich at that shop was nasty, no one is to blame but me and I didn't disappoint anyone. I have PLANS. I'm going to the Keys. By myself. I'm going to Curacao (I can't do the little fiddly thing under the second c) with a group, to go scuba diving. I'm pondering going to Iceland, by myself, to satisfy some bucket list items. Northern lights, a volcano, and snorkeling a tectonic rift. That decision will be made after Curacao. I've heard people at the end of their lives say that experiences are the best. I want to have interesting stories, for when I'm not able to travel. My aunt (never married) has done that, traveled all her life. 

I've also learned that my house doesn't have to be PERFECT. I'm living here. My grandson is here every weekend and has a toy corner in the living room. It's a small house! My son is living here while his house (nearby) is being built. So is his Great Dane, Otto. Having had only dachshunds for the last 30 years, something that size is disconcerting, but he's sweet and prefers to sleep in the sun on the front porch. I'm still figuring out what to do with Capt's stuff, gradually. I have this enormous portrait painting of him done when he was in his 20's, and have about decided that's what I'm keeping, and the rest can go. The hats, the fishing and scuba gear, all that. I don't need it and someone else will be blessed by it. 

One of the struggles I've had, with both Himself and Capt, is the fear of being disrespectful of them. Both men wanted and got respect. They both had items they treasured, and held onto for strong reasons. I, however, have no such attachment to those things, but also know if they were HERE, and I got rid of them, they would be terribly upset and feel VERY disrespected. I have been reminded several times by my sons that Himself and Capt are no longer attached to said items, they don't CARE about them anymore. Let go! So, I am. Gradually, bit by bit. I keep one or two things that are also important to me, like the portrait of Capt, and the big sewing desk Himself made for me as a wedding gift. When I am gone, if there's no one who cares about them, it won't matter. I will no longer care either. But still, it's kind of hard. At this point, it's truly just the respect issue. I'm not keeping them because *I* can't let go, I just....I just don't want to dishonor them. 

The Road Warrior! I remembered the name of the movie!! Mad Max! HA!

Has it been that long?

 I checked up here and it's been since late September that I've written anything. Time flies, I guess.

It's Christmas Season now. Once again, I wasn't going to put up much of a tree. Last year it was a 2 foot high thing with a single piece of ribbon that read "Merry Christmas". Grandpunkin was horrified this year when I said I didn't think I'd put up anything, so I was shamed into getting a 6'6" fake tree and a few strings of lights. When those were up, he expressed disappointment that there were no ornaments on it. So, the box came out and we set to work, with him asking questions about each one, as my ornaments all have stories. Some were ones purchased the first year Himself and I were married, in 1986. Others were made by his daddy and uncles as they were growing up. Those are my favorites, the awkwardly painted balls and that one lego thing...whatever it is...that one of them made when he was 8 or 9. There's a copper foil paper origami crane, and now the one who made it is extremely skilled with origami and made a polyhedral ball type thing for this year. He promised a new something origami every year now. 

Christmas is when I miss them. Himself and Capt. And when I have the cognitive dissonance of missing 2 men, without feeling a strong preference. Who do I miss more? I had Himself for 30 years., and he's been gone for 9. I had Capt for 5, and he's been gone 1. They were very different men. One was cautious and diligent. The other was adventurous and carefree. Both were extremely intelligent with mad building skills and mechanical abilities. But I miss them both. 

They say you aren't married in Heaven, and I am thankful for that because there's the age-old (and pointless) question of who would I be married to? Neither, I'm told. It's Heaven, and perfect, and we're all too busy being in Heaven to deal with things like that. 

Thanksgiving was 2-fold. Thursday was with Capt's family (they're all so lovely!), and Saturday was with mine and a couple of extras. Christmas will be on the 15th, because that's when we can all get together. The 2 living in Atlanta will be working on the 25th, and we have never needed to do it on The Day. It will also allow Grandpunkin to have the whole Family Experience with us, involving potato cannons and explosives and bonfires, and then have Christmas Day with his mother and her family. He gets 2 Christmases! Lucky kid!

I am reading an advent devotional, and it is emphasizing the point of Christmas, as a celebration of God's incarnation as a human being, with all the physical stuff like being born and such. He lived with us, as one of us, probably with mosquito bites itching, skinned knees as a kid, maybe likes and dislikes (did He ever have to endure brussels sprouts? Or was He one of those kids who appreciated everything? I mean....He created them, after all.) Living as one of us meant He actually truly understood what we go through as people. The frustrations (remember He got mad and flipped tables in the temple), the physical limitations of our bodies, fatigue, hunger, all that. He knows us, fully and completely, and can relate to our shortcomings. That hits me now and then, knowing there's a perfect God who reached down to live with us as one of us because He wanted to. I love that. It's comforting. This month we celebrate His desire to love us where we are, on Earth, as a limited creature, so He plopped himself into a food trough, with a mom and dad to look after him, and joined us on Earth. That's what Love is. That's why I put up lights and a silly tree full of memories, cook giant meals for my family and remember the 2 men who loved me most. It's how I do it. All through it I remember that God loves us enough to do join us here, where we're at, and walk with us through life and it's hardships, always pointing a way to go, to get to a place where, instead of Him joining us where we're at, we get to join Him where He's at. 

Here I am again

I think grief makes me want to write. I'm not fooling myself into thinking anyone reads this, but it feels good to get stuff out of my head and onto "paper". Maybe one day I'll be very industrious and print it all out so even after the world collapses someone can read it and feel sorry for me. Or not.

Anyway, I was reading through past posts, going on to a year or two prior to Capt's passing. How clueless I was. I always am, you know, not being able to predict the future and all. I was also very careful about what I wrote. Capt was sensitive about his image, and didn't ever want to be seen with a critical eye. He had some real character flaws, but don't we all? Now I don't have to be so careful but I am not going to expose him, or Himself, or my children, to the critical eye of the world. There's no point.

As for me, I am not afraid of the critical eye of the world. I am probably far harder on myself than anyone else could be, because I am living inside my head and know everything going on in there.

Thank God for God, and redemption. He's the only other one who knows exactly what I'm thinking, planning, and all that. He knew what I was thinking when I was so angry at Capt, frustrated with my kids, and wishing I were anywhere else but here with a mind wiped clean by amnesia. Fortunately He doesn't work that way, but sometimes I sure wish He did. 

Now here I sit, on a Saturday morning with all the plans cancelled, a third cup of coffee, wondering what to do today. I think I'm just writing words down to get them out of my head, in no particular order and for no particular reason.

I have, as seen in the most recent writings, been dealing with the recurrance of Grief. It's a heavy load and the problem is that it's mostly borne alone. Sure, friends want to help but no, mostly a singular event.

I am weary of feeling sad. Missing Himself, missing Capt, mourning the loss of long term plans, feeling sorry for myself because there's no Grandpa to my Grandma, probably going to get old alone in the bed. You don't appreciate the sold feel of another body next to you, the safe feelings of knowing you're not alone if something happens, the comfort of having another opinion on a matter...there's an awful lot people take for granted. I guess if all this has taught something, it's been to appreciate relationships. 

I try to console myself with trivialities like not having to share pillows, pick up someone else's underwear, or coordinate with someone else's plans. I don't have to ask an opinion about dinner, choose anything based on someone else's preferences. I can go to a movie, whatever movie I want, whenever I want, and get the kind of popcorn I want. I can binge watch anything I want without anyone else's input or commentary. None of that really matters. I think I'd be willing to compromise those things, but I have also learned that looking for someone merely to have a warm solid body and safety isn't the way to do it.

You see, that's why I met Capt. I wanted and thought I needed another person to feel complete. I'd been half-of-a-whole for over 30 years and when Himself died, I lost half of myself. I jumped into a relationship with both feet and half a brain, and went all-in. Don't get me wrong, I loved Capt and the life (well, most of it. The last year wasn't so loveable) we made, but it was hard to learn how to live with someone so opinionated, especially since I was equally so. 

Now I am having, AGAIN, to learn how to live with myself, and I don't like it. BUT, I have also decided that this is where God wants me and it's my responsibility to accept that, and plow ahead.