Blessed

We just returned from a one week adventure to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina.  Hard to believe three years ago when I visited for the first time my life was so completely different.  Last time I was there I spent time sitting on the beach, writing out all of the pain and confusion of life.  I felt like I had no idea where I was headed and if I could ever find a solid place among the living again.  It seemed like all of my instincts were wrong, and I was just bumping into one failed adventure after another.  That vacation was a defining point for me, because I decided that I needed to embrace what was before me and stop worrying over who I thought I was "meant" to be.  One night we all went to the beach and in the pitch black of night, with the stars blazing down, the waves gently lapping and the wind in my ears I swear I felt like I connected with what had inspired me to love life when I was young.  Let me take you back for a moment ...

My best friend and I were a little weird.  In our eyes we were imaginative, in all of the ways that kids are best known for, but I think we took it to some new levels.  We convinced ourselves that we could control the wind.  Behind our grade school was a little field, but to us it was the expanse of the Western sky.  We loved to gallop across it, breathless, creating all types of scenarios for the urgency.  We were escaping, exploring, bursting out of the seams of what it meant to be alive.  Finally, we decided that the way we loved the wind and rain were unique.  We just knew that the way the wind in our hair or the feel of cold rain on our skin made our minds light up and our bodies want to launch into the sky must mean we were connected.  We secretly discussed this connection and how no one else must ever know of our power.  So, 25 years later I am breaking the pact.  Standing on the beach that night on Hilton Head three years ago I experienced anew that feeling of vitality and importance.  I realized that even though I couldn't see it, I could still feel that connection to God and nature that had made me believe in my future when I was just a child.

This visit brought some of that rebirth full circle.  I am back in the game of life, and I have a place that feels like home again.  I wondered if my return to that beach in light of all that has changed would perhaps mute the effect of that one night on the beach.  I discovered that it only enhanced it.  The love that swelled in my heart that night has only been enhanced.  I am still the same woman - I still feel confused and alone sometimes, I still miss Kevin in ways that words won't ever do justice to, and I am still sustained by the love of my God, my family and my friends.  Now, I get to add so many more blessings to the table.  Truly, truly, truly I am a blessed woman and I promise to never forget that.

May 2012

Life often takes shape in unexpected ways.  The past year began my new adventure in Arkansas, the transformation from widow to wife, and so many other major developments.  Sometimes it feels as though I am torn between a past self and the self I am becoming.  I recently read a  book by Amy Tan entitled "The Hundred Secret Senses" and it gave me some of the perspective I needed. She discusses what it feels like to love someone who still loves a "ghost."   Kevin is with me every day, and I can't help that.  He is a part of me now, no matter what happened then or what happens in the future.  With Ray, now I am in love with this amazing man who only wants to be first in my heart. He aches when I bring up Kevin's name, casually dropping little bits of information about my life with him.  I mention the jobs he had or the way he took care of the car, or how he loved my family and friends as his own,  It is something I fear that few people can understand.  Kevin was my best friend, my everything, and yet he turned on me and left me completely alone.  When he made those choices in the past few months before he passed away, he took a gamble with all of the people in his life who loved him, adored him, and cared for him.  Ray is my strength, my joy and my rock.  He anticipates the things that might stress me out and takes care of them.  He loves me in a very pragmatic way.  He pays attention to every tiny little detail of our life and appreciates me in my entirity.  He looks out for me, and wants me to feel as loved by him as he does by me.  I am blessed.  Ray doesn't take my memories of Kevin as a threat, but at times it becomes overwhelming to him to feel as though he is in another man's shadow.  The only shadow is the "if" shadow.  If Kevin had quit drugs and pulled himself together and been a good husband and father . . .. if if if ..   Ray is so much more than that and I love him even more that he can talk to me about this and be honest when it gets to be too much for him,  He's an amazing man all the way around.

Wedding Bells are Ringing!

There is big news in my life!  This weekend Ray and I are getting married.  We decided that what was holding us back was finding a date, time and place that our families could all be there, and the liklihood was that we would be waiting a lot longer before we could do that.  So, we are setting off for a weekend adventure, just the two of us, to officially commit our lives to each other.  As usual, I am not able to eloquently describe all that is spilling over in my heart right now, other than complete love and joy.

To a Stranger

Just when I think there aren't any more surprise boxes to open or any little memories that lie in wait for me around a corner, another shows up.  While sorting through a box of random toys that had been left at the Henry's after I moved to Arkansas I came across a little wooden box that I remembered belonged to Kevin.  When I opened it I saw that he had saved all of the notes, letters and cards that I had written him in the years before we were married.  It was a bittersweet discovery, as usual.  I haven't been able to read through them all.  Anyone who knows me, knows I am very wordy!  However, I sifted through the pile and read a few of the notes that caught my eye.  In particular, I noticed a poem that I had copied for him from my favorite poet, Walt Whitman.  It is eerie in the way that it now encapsulates so much of my life, love and memories of being with Kevin.

To A Stranger
Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream),
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only
Nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass,
You take of my face, breast, hands in return,
I am not to speak to you.
I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

A prelude

Last night I had the most vivid dream I have had in a long time.  In it my in-laws were visiting here in Arkansas, except for some reason Arkansas was now ocean adjacent.  They had rented space on a small ship and wanted Ray and I to get married there by the captain.  The night they arrived I went to see the ship and the small city where it was harbored, and I was totally captivated by it all.  There was a cathedral lit up in the night by hundreds of candles, an ocean that was glowing an irredescant bluish green, punctuated by the bright white ship.  I went into the ship with Ron and Linda because I had put Gloria to bed in their room earlier, and as soon as we entered the room she woke up and started doing her half-sleep stumble across the room towards me.   Suddenly, this strange and wonderful dream took an awful turn as Gloria somehow managed to get to the deck and tottered on the edge of the ship.  Linda ran to catch her and I had the feeling that they were both falling in as I jolted awake.  It was the kind of dream  that kept me awake for some time pondering the depth of the beauty, and trying to shake the uneasy feeling that somehow the most beautiful things in life are sometimes a prelude to the most tragic. 

New Job!

Ray has been working for two weeks now at his new job and is loving it.  There is a difference in the way he walks, the ease of his smile, and the way he simply is.  I can tell a weight is lifted.  My main concern was that he would end up in a horrible job that he hated, but never walk away because he doesn't want to not be working.  The good news is that not only is this a company that is big enough and healthy enough to supply opportunity for Ray to advance, but they are also good enough to already recognize his talent and work ethic from the beginning.  He deserves so many good things and has lived a long life just surviving.  He told me he has received more positive feedback in two weeks at this job than he did in over 9 years at Mailbox Works.  When he told me that, he lifted the weight off of my shoulders as well.
As for me, I am getting ready for my first trip back to Illinois.  I am mostly looking forward to the visit, because I am itching to see family and friends, to eat a Portillo's hot dog, to wander through Costco, and to take the train into the city.  We are going to be there the first week of September, arguably the most beautiful month to be in Illinois.  My anxiety about the trip comes from the fact that Ray won't be with us, and when I come home Gloria will be staying an extra week with her grandparents.  I have never been away from Gloria for more than a night, and even then I was within driving distance of her. 
What helps me with the anxiety is that Gloria has been quite the terror the past few days.  I am fairly certain that she always gets difficult a few weeks before her birthday (starting with her first birthday).  She is not even aware of how close her birthday is, I just think it is a growth spurt thing.  This weekend she threw an old school tantrum, 2 year old style, at the store.  I was surprised by it but not shocked, because with the heat and her missing having Ray around I figured she was just wound up.  Then, Sunday evening she began the tantrum to end all tantrums, which ended with me taking everything out of her room except her bed and her table!  I know, I know! I'm such a mean mommy!  However, she is a strong-willed and intense kid, so I needed her to know I wasn't just blowing smoke.  Just to give you an idea of how much this affected her, when I took most of the stuff out and came back in her room to talk to her she smiled at me calmly and said, "well you can't move my bookshelf because you aren't strong enough."  So, I went ahead and carried all of her books out of her room.  Then, she smiles at me again and says "I still have two toys that you left under my bed."  So, I had her get them and hand them over.  The good part is, she isn't sneaky or a liar, because she'd rather be in my face and defiant.  I am told by parents everywhere that a strong willed child is easier in the long run, because if you instill good values in them they are strong enough to stick to them and pave their own ways.  Here's to hoping!

Going through old boxes can stir up more than dust.

I always suspected I was weird, but going through old boxes definitely confirmed my suspicions.  Interesting things I found while going through old boxes:

1. A locket with a picture of my brother, Dan, that I used to wear in grade school because I thought it would make him like me more.
2. A picture that I took in 4th grade (sideways and across the room) of my crush, who was wearing a Bartman shirt.
3. My Brian Duncan tape.
4. A piece of tree bark carefully labeled "Papa Bear" with a picture of a rainbow.
5. 30 Washington Junior High library cards from various friends, carefully alphabetized and rubber banded together.
6. My first pair of glasses, with the round ends to wrap around my 18 month old ears.
7. A stuffed fish that my first boyfriend made me in Home Economics in 7th grade, because before I told him I liked him I used the codename "fish" to refer to him.
8. A gumball machine ring that my good friend, Ryan Phelan, gave me to make me feel better when I was dumped my freshman year of high school.
9. A beautiful birthday card with a crystal on the front, and when you open it my good friend Sarah Dobbins had written "Happy Birthday" on a post-it note so she wouldn't ruin the card!
10. A lot of bad poetry.