More work to do.

I spent most of yesterday going through Stuff. I decided I Was Ready. Holy cow. I knew Capt had a lot of clothes. 3 giant black garbage bags later, and you can't even see that a dent was made. Fortunately, I have a good and useful place to send them. There's a ministry in Atlanta that can use most of the clothes. He was involved with it on a personal level so I know he'd want his stuff going there. It feels good, knowing where and who. I've already given his Hawaiian shirts (he had many) to a couple of my sons, and seeing those on them will make me smile. #2 has a friend who's a big Alabama fan, and also needs clothes. So, those are going to him. Capt would approve, if he cared at all where his clothes went...which I doubt...because he's busy doing fabulous things.

The hardest part, really, is remembering when he wore this. Or knowing those ratty shorts were his daily-wear. He always wore them unless he was using a chainsaw. Mid winter, he'd have on a flannel shirt and ratty shorts. "They're comfortable and just getting broke in good" he'd say. "They're falling apart" I'd answer. "You're a SEAMSTRESS" he'd point out. "FIX THEM". And so I would. So now, instead of looking like he'd gotten in a fight with a coyote and lost, he would look like he got in a fight with a coyote and lost but knew someone with a sewing machine. In a passive-aggressive attempt to get him to replace them, I'd stitch them up with whatever thread was on the machine. Brown shorts with yellow stitches. Blue shorts with orange stitches .That made him mad as it caused them to approximate Auburn university colors and he couldn't have that. I pointed out that he was always buying me a University of Alabama something and it was the least he could do.  I think he finally realized he looked a little bit like a homeless guy from Central Florida, what with the long beard and all, and he got some new ones. However, he always saved them for Special Occasions, like...y'know...weddings and stuff. (I exaggerate...he had a suit)

Much of it was things he..(were things? Help! Grammar police!) that were important to him, but of little significance to me. A beautiful wool scarf he got in Ireland. I wasn't there when he made that trip. It was Pre-Me. His hunting mittens. He hadn't hunted since we were together. Towels he used as seat covers when he had his Boykin. He was very sentimental about those. Also pre-me. How do I deal with things like that? They have no value at all to me. But I also understand how I feel about certain items of mine, of which I am very sentimental, but my kids have no attachment to. I don't want to dishonor him, but I also don't want to hold onto a bunch of stuff.

I have a banker's box of particular items that belonged to Himself. It is one fairly small box. The items are things that remind me of him, that I can look at and recall events. I will make a similar box of Capt's things, that I will go through and remind me of particular events in our relationship. Just one box. That's enough. I will ask people in his life if they want this, or that. And I will take my time deciding what to do with the rest. I didn't have quite the luxury of time with Himself's things. But now, I do. And when I'm gone, my very unsentimental sons will get to figure out what to do with it all. I may tell them to have an estate sale and let everything become someone else's to deal with.

Going through a person's stuff, when every single thing means something, is hard. Some things, not so much because it's just a shirt, or socks. Other things, wow. I have no clue. And there's a LOT.  Capt was very sentimental. So was Himself. I have to be careful, for my own sake. I keep reminding myself that material things, the antique fishing reels, the completely unorganized (and I have no idea how they go) box of photographs, the clocks that don't work but had great value to him, all those things no longer mean anything to him. 

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:19-21

Now what do I do?

 I was thinking a lot yesterday. There was plenty of time for it. I also got to spend time with #'s 2 and 4. They live in Atlanta, and I took #4 home after him spending the weekend here, learning how to drive a manual transmission car (long story short: his car died the sort of death where it costs more to fix than it's worth, so he got another one, but it's a manual and before he can take it to Atlanta and it's traffic, he has to get proficient with it.) Since #2 lives nearish #4, I got to spend a bit of time with him, see his apartment, meet a roommate. 

Anyway, all the driving and talking made me realize something. I've been taking care of other people for 40 years. Forty. Years. My first job out of high school was at a nursing home, where I took care of people. Then I got married, dropped out of college to work so my new husband could focus on his education. Then I started having kids and...of course...took care of them and Himself. Then Himself died, but 2 of my kids lived at home and I continued to care for them (often to their detriment...they were old enough to care for themselves but I didn't know anything else). Then I met Capt, and took care of him. He got sick, and I took care of him even more. When he died on Oct 8, 2022, I tried to make sure his parents and family were taken care of by deflecting their questions of "how are you?". I always answered "I'm fine, but how are YOU? Are you sure you're ok, is there anything I can do for you?"

I am very uncomfortable with people asking how I'm doing. I always answer "Oh I'm fine, how are YOU?" Even when I'm not fine at all. It's so much easier to turn the focus away from myself. That way I don't actually have to do that uncomfortable thing where I show weakness or need. 

My sons pointed out that it's actually OK to have need or show weakness about something. That is NOT a part of my upbringing or thought processes. I simply do not know how to ask for help, or lean on other people. I just don't. It isn't done. One of the phrases of my upbringing is this:

"Keep your problems to yourself. No one is interested. They have their own problems."

On an objective level, I recognize that isn't particularly healthy. I have always internalized that, even to a level where I wouldn't ask God for help. He's too busy dealing with more important issues than me. 

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Matthew 11:28

Does that sound like Someone who's too busy to give me a hand?

I would do almost anything for my kids. God would do anything necessary for me, to the point of sacrificing His own son so I could know Him intimately. 

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only son, so whoever believes in him will not perish, but have eternal life." John 3:16

Does that sound like a God who is too busy to be interested in me?

I have a friend locally who, when he calls, laughs at me for my greeting. He always says "Hi, Peg, how are you doing?" and I answer with "I'm fine, how are you?" and he laughs, and points out that I'm deflecting. Well, he's right about that. It's so much easier to talk about someone else's problems than my own. I'll immediately jump into what I know is going on with him (or anyone else I'm talking to) to turn the focus away from me. I hate spotlights and I don't want anyone to see my problems.

I don't know WHY I am have difficulty with it. It's not that I'm trying to appear perfect. All you have to do is come into the chaos of my house and see that isn't true.  My kids all have pointed out that I need to take care of myself, to quit trying to take care of everyone else all the time. To have some Fun of my own, figure out what, how, and where I am in my life. And they're right because I have spent so long basing the WHO on how I fit in with everyone else, and now that everyone else is capable of their own lives, I've got to figure out how I fit in on my own. Where is it God wants me? He put me in this situation, and I've got to be open to His will moving forward. That's a scary thought.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Proverbs 3:5-6

Thus says the Lord, your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: “I am the Lord your God, who teaches you to profit, who leads you in the way you should go. Isaiah 48:17

I know, O Lord, that the way of man is not in himself, that it is not in man who walks to direct his steps. Jeremiah 10:23

There's a LOT that God has to say about that, trusting Him and His will. 

A day of rest

 I'm very tired today. And, because it's Sunday, I'm taking a break. Existential fatigue, I think it is. I've been going full steam for a week, getting affairs in order, and I'm just...pooped. God mandates a Day of Rest, the Sabbath, and I'm not going to argue with Him about that. He knows what He's doing.

“Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh day is a Sabbath of solemn rest, a holy convocation. You shall do no work. It is a Sabbath to the Lord in all your dwelling places.  Leviticus 23:3

Finding Joy

Happiness is nebulous, ephemeral. I'm often not happy at all.  But joyful? That's different.  Webster defines joy thus: "to experience great pleasure or delight." Happy is defined (among others things) as "enjoying or characterized by well-being and contentment."

Thing is, Joy and happy aren't the same thing, are they. Am I happy Capt left his earthly body and is rejoicing in Heaven? OF COURSE NOT. I miss him! I wish he were here! I don't enjoy it and am not content about it at all! BUT...there is great joy in it. I am delighted that he's perfected. He's not suffering anymore, and let me tell you...he'd been suffering hard for a long time. Not just the months after he had COVID, but as a result of events years before that. Now he's not, and I am overjoyed for him. Same with Himself. His death threw me for a humongous loop but I was able, in the midst of all of it, to recognize that he, too, was perfected and free of the hardships and frustrations of this earthly life Those are circumstances in which I find great pleasure and delight, because I love them.

When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul. Psalm 94:19

One of the things I've told my kids for a long time is that if you truly love someone, then you want what's best for them, even if that isn't you.  And I loved those men. Imperfectly as only a human can, but enough that I am JOYFUL that they are where they are, and I will see them again.

It's a hard lesson to learn. I'm selfish. I want what I want and often that's not what God has in mind for me. Obviously God's plan is different from mine. My job is to recognize that and ask Him to show me the door he has opened, since 2 of them have been so irrevocably closed. I can find joy in that, somehow. Eventually. I know it's there but....y'know. It's hard sometimes. Often. I want to be happy. He wants me to be joyful. 

But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them ever sing for joy, and spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may exult in you. Psalm 5:11

I love the Psalms. King David was masterful at taking a bad situation, whining about it a little bit, then praising God. Often he praised God without the whining. I want to be able to do that...to praise God without whining first. Sometimes, I force myself to praise Him without asking for anything. There's always something I want to ask for, but I know how happy, even joyful, it makes me when my kids call to simply ask how was my day, or tell me about something good that happened, or thank me for something, without asking for anything. It makes me feel recognized, even validated a little. While I know God is GOD and doesn't NEED anything, He's important to me, and I want to let Him know that.  Psalm 145 is a wonderful one! David understood the difference between joy and happiness. He recognized that true eternal joy comes from God, not from the temporary things of the world. Paul understood that as well.

For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. Romans 14:17

God is working all that out in me, the righteousness (boy that's a hard one. I'm a stubborn cuss when it comes to that one), peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. Peace is difficult but I'm getting better at it. Joy...I can see it happening.

My Dog Rusty

For today's installment of Gratitude Adjustment, I give to you:

A Very Silly Dog.

This is Rusty, my 11 year old wirehaired dachshund. He is The Alarm. Babe, the GSD, is The Enforcer. At this point, Babe is more of a Sit On the Front porch And Pretend To Be Scary than actually DOING anything. She's 13.

 

Rusty has been by my side, providing comfort, companionship, a modicum of protection, and sympathy through the processes of grieving for 2 husbands.

His favorite spot is shoved up next to me on the couch. 

He also likes his bed next to the rocking chair on the front porch.

Or in the passenger seat of the truck. He's a good rider and traveling buddy!

Unfortunately, he doesn't like to swim so it's highly unlikely I could ever use him as a dive buddy.

He knows the FedEx and UPS drivers almost always have a biscuit for him.

He despises my 3rd son, and tolerates Grandpunkin. He's only bitten someone once, and that person admitted he probably had it coming. Stevie had come up on the house and startled Rusty, who then became very defensive of me, because I hadn't seen Stevie approach. Since Stevie's dog had bitten Capt once for the same reason, everyone called it even. I felt bad about it, but Rusty seemed to think he'd channeled his inner Doberman and was kind of proud of himself. I couldn't decide if I was embarrassed or impressed that my little dog showed some uncharacteristic chutzpah.

He has a few weird behaviors. One of my favorites involves his desire to be Part of What's Going On. I think that's a normal Dog Thing but the way he does it is kind of interesting. He will grab up a mouthful of food, and carry it over to wherever the people are gathering, drop it on the floor, and eat it there. Even if his bowl is on the opposite side of 5 acres from the people, he'll carry it that far, then eat it. He's brought it out 2 doors, down a flight of stairs and out to the fire pit, made 3 or 4 such trips, just to eat where the people are. When visiting Capt's parents, he'll leave little piles throughout their house, usually on a patterned rug where we can't see them. 

So God has seen fit to provide me with a loyal and amusing companion. For that I am very grateful.

I've actually managed to stick with the theme for 3 whole days! How about that!

FOOOOOD

 Since I never really stick with these things, I'll give you fair warning that I'll probably forget occasionally...the whole Thankful Every Day thing. But I'm going to do what I can, when I can.

(pardon....need to refill the Liquid Motivation)

(mmm so good)

 Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. Genesis 1:29

Anyway, for Today's Installment...I'm thankful for tasty things. Good food, hot coffee, ginger tea.  Things that taste good are important to me. That particular sense is well developed. As a child, Mom's cooking was...kind of...experimental. She also was not highly motivated to spend time in the kitchen so it was also repetitive. One big pot of something and we'd eat it until it was gone. Sometimes, that wasn't a bad thing. Chili, lasagna...those were always good for a few days. Other times, it was A Very Bad Thing Indeed. 

Beans in chili is controversial. I like them.

sigh...but regardless, the food was nutritious and plentiful, even if I wasn't always grateful. I can look back on it and see that. 

HOWEVER (you knew there was a however, right?) 

As an adult, and graced with the ability to choose my own food without anyone else's opinion (at least now, anyway. Himself pretty much liked anything I fixed. Capt was pickier but still liked good stuff), I can eat what I want and NOT eat what I don't want. I was in my 30's before I realized I was in NO WAY obligated to eat broccoli. I was 45 before I had brussels sprouts prepared in a way in which I was willing to eat them. I will try any sort of food that will make it past my nose. At least once. And I DON'T HAVE TO EAT BROCCOLI IF I DON'T WANT TO. Nor turnip or mustard greens. Thank You, Lord, that I live in a place and time where/when I am not obliged nor need (for the sake of nutrition) to eat bitter greens.

A while back, when I lived in East Georgia (Post-Himself and Pre-Capt), a friend asked me to pick up her Sunbasket (meal service) box, as she was going to be out of town. "Eat the food" she said. Ok, and I did. Delicious stuff! And so convenient!  So I thought I'd give that a try, a couple of weeks ago. I tried a different service, and while the recipes were interesting, they weren't anything I couldn't have made here from my own pantry, and blaaaand. SO BLAND. I added a lot of extra to them, because Bleh. Cancelled that after the second delivery. And I'd even picked the ones that were labelled Spicy.  I'm going to go back to doing my own thing.

All that said, what a privilege it is to live in a time and place where food in plentiful and varied. I have the ability and means to grow pretty much whatever I want, if I'm not lazy about it. I can go into town and choose pretty much whatever I want from the Farmer's Market, or the grocery store (of which there are many options there as well), and I have the means to do so. I have, in my pantry, spices and herbs from all over the world. Peppers, cardamom, cumin, coriander, multiple varieties of paprikas, sumac, several curry blends. There's only 2 spices I'm not a fan of: fenugreek and asafoetida. Those are easy enough to avoid and not commonly used anyway. What an incredible gift it is to easily access flavors from all over the place! I can make a culinary visit to Ethiopia with berbere, or Thailand with lemongrass and tiny hot peppers, or Argentina with chimichurri...oh my word! World traveling within my kitchen!

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.   1 Corinthians 10:31

So that's my daily gratitude...food. Plentiful, varied, and tasty.  

A month of giving thanks

Yesterday I was, as is my current habit, thinking about Capt and Himself. It occurred to me how very blessed and privileged I am, to have been loved so enthusiastically and generously by 2 men. Those men gave me their whole selves, treated me like a queen, and spoiled me rotten. Not many people have that honor...to be loved so much. 

You see, I was trying to get over feeling sorry for myself. Self-pity is a quality I dislike in other people, and consider it hypocritical when I catch myself wallowing. So I pondered how to turn that around....the missing those 2 men and wondering "why me" about the brevity of my relationships with them. Then I realized just how very honored I should feel that God gave them to me. 

And I do....feel honored, that is. The "why me" of self pity turned into a 'why ME?" of "what makes me so special that I should get 2 of them", when there's a lot of women who don't even get 1 such man. Talk about an attitude adjustment. 

Himself was the love of my youth...28-1/2 years we grew up together, had children, learned, moved from place to place, figured out what it was to be adults. We went from being college students in a tiny apartment to executive (him) and his social director (me) in a huge house on a golf course. Poverty (literal, not figurative) to prosperity in spades. We both worked hard, and had little time for self-indulgence. 

Capt was the love of my...I'm not elderly...something. A short relationship of 5 years but he was so critically important in many ways. He taught me how to handle my adult sons, treat them like the men that they are and not like grown "children". We had fun...real FUN. Of a sort I had never had because I had been raising children and supporting Himself in his career. Fun that felt selfish because it was what *I* wanted to do, not putting the wants of everyone else before mine. 

Both men wanted me to be happy. Himself gave me free rein over the household, smiled at my love of roses and gardening and kept that liberally satisfied. Capt continued that, with more roses and gardens, and helped me realize I didn't have to necessarily have to put myself last when it came to doing something. He'd ask me "What do YOU want to do?" then hound me about it until I finally said something he knew wasn't being said because I thought it was what he wanted. 

So yeah, I'm thankful, grateful, privileged, and amazed that I have been loved by 2 men. I don't know what it is that God sees, that He blessed me so richly.