not here

flight 932 landed in germany around 6:30 am my time i think.

i was awake. 

i left them at the airport last night after the 4-year old says: "you're just going to leave us here? why???"

it was a hard goodbye.

losing a kindred spirit will do that.

see you in germany, friend.

did you download that texting app yet?

read more

Busy, Busy Busy

Not too much has changed since my last post. I'm still living by lists and adding to them all the time so I don't forget anything. I've crossed a few things off but added more. I'm running from one thing to another and in between making a lots of phone calls and looking for the intestinal fortitude to just make executive decisions.

It's all the same stuff and really, I'm no busier than anyone else, it's just all I've been doing, so there's not much else to write about. I am managing to push the sadness of my mom and friends leaving down with the busyness, so it is useful in that sense, and in between there have been fun moments of family activities, a few more end of school bright spots, and all sorts of regular-ness. Toy Story 3 is really fun, Evan was recognized for having straight A's all year, and Sara has been really diligent about getting ready for finals, so it's all good, I'm just swimming in the deep end, only coming up for air occasionally. Sometimes I'm like Dory-endlessly optimistic and willing to try anything and sometimes I'm more like Marlin-anxious and dwelling on the problems, but in the end, it's a good thing I speak Whale.

read more

Listy, Listy Times.

Did you know that in Spanish, one word for "ready" or "prepared" is Listo or Lista? So, if I'm all ready for something, I can say Estoy lista. I'm ready. I love connections between languages like that, and I like to think that our word "list" and the Spanish word for "ready" have a common ancestor somewhere. I have not researched it, and it is just as likely that there is no connection, but I still like the idea. I have lots of things to get lista for in the next few months, and they are spilling out of my head, so as a result, since I don't own a Pensieve, I'm using my beloved red journal to make lots of lists:

• Girls' Camp (this month): That annual week of teenage girl wonderfulness that I just can't seem to get enough of is coming up in about 13 days. I have a few more responsibilities this year, and a wonderful friend to work with, but I am getting to that last-stage, high-adrenaline, nitty-gritty-details part of the planning and it just helps to have it all written down.
• A Wedding (in less than two months): We've got lots of travel stuff to nail down right now, and I'm in charge of a family dinner the night before the wedding in a city to which I've never been, so that's a little nerve-wracking. I'm also in charge of an open house here a week later, plus trying to make the time in between into a nice family vacation. I'd really like to feel that I might actually be of help to Ashlyn's mom as she works to put together a memorable celebration for the happy couple.
  
• One Son Leaving (in about 2 months): I have to get his wisdom teeth surgery figured out, even trickier now that he is working 6 days a week and needs time off for a trip to California. He has to take a day off to register for classes. We still haven't had our bank field trip to get him all checking accounted and all that. Plus I still actually have to figure out how we're getting him and his stuff out to Utah, since our original idea of a road trip got trumped by item number 2.
  
• One Son Coming Home, then Immediately Leaving Again (in about 3 months): I have to get his bedroom turned from a storage room back into a bedroom, then have everything ready for him to leave almost immediately for Utah to work and seek his fortune. So, right now, that's apartment contracts to sign, deposits to get paid, car questions to figure out, and lots of other stuff.
  
• Another Teaching Trip (in between the wedding and the son leaving): I still don't have my plane reservations for this, and kids will be in sports practice and band camp with no driver at home and no grandma next door and dad working crazy hours. I'm having second thoughts, but I've signed a contract, so I have to figure this one out on my own. This list includes having the kids get used to riding their bikes to school, getting good locks, making sure the bikes are in good working order, then talking them into the idea of a 3 mile bike ride home after 3 hours of soccer or volleyball practice, etc.
  

And of course, woven in between all that are all the daily tasks and things that just come up. The constant battle between saying yes and saying no. Do I take on hosting a Swim Team Pep Rally either next week-the Friday before I leave for camp or the week in July when Evan won't even be home to attend either the meet or the Pep rally and I'm trying to get my husband to go away for a couple of days?? Having my lists helps me answer questions like this and feel like I'm making the right decision.

Thus the greater meaning becomes clear. I think the lists become for me, as I was discussing with one friend this morning, my road map, my bird's eye view. They are evidence that I can get there from here. I can get ready in time, but I have to go the right way and stay on course. I need that, especially when I get to points of saturation like right now and just can't keep it all in my head.

read more

The Harvest Begins

Even though I've been using herbs for several weeks, tonight I got the first real food out of the garden. I found my first 10 greenbeans with probably 40 that will be ready in a day or two. I also harvested the first of the chard that grew as volunteers from self-sown seed. I had simply let my chard bolt (bloom and go to seed) last year, and enough of the seeds either survived in the compost pile or overwintered in the soil that I got 20 good plants this year. I sauteed it in olive oil with garlic, shallots, salt and freshly ground nutmeg. It was absolutely delicious. Not a trace of bitterness and even the stems were tender enough to eat. It is so very enjoyable to me to take things out of my yard and either cook them or give them to someone else to eat.

read more

Little Hands, Uneven Stitches and Strawberry Jam

This is the summer of friends leaving. The far away kind of leaving. I always take it hard when friends move away, because it is right that I feel the slightly jagged edges of the missing pieces in my life. Then life goes on and we settle into new ways of being friends, and our circles of friends grow wider instead of smaller. I know that will happen soon. I'm also certain that all this leaving on top of my mom moving away is a major reason for a certain funky melancholy that has been following me around for the last couple of weeks. I have lots of other wonderful friends of course, and global networks now make distances almost meaningless. I know all that. But they won't be here. And for a little while, it will hurt. Then I'll be okay, really. For now, not so much. Every interaction is tender with what's coming next. Apparently, my need to really feel my tenderness was known to God, and the opportunity came to let my emotions have full sway. It caught me by surprise.

It happened last night at the school band/orchestra concert where one soon-to-move friend's son and my son were both playing. It was terribly hot in that middle-school gym and her little ones were getting tired. I love her kids as much as her and I brought knitting of course. Those two things combined into an unexpected experience that somehow became my moment of "farewell but not goodbye, it's all going to be okay."

The 6 year old is a natural and is always asking to knit ever since I taught her last summer. Trying to distract her from the heat and the length of the concert, I sat her on my lap and let her knit on the plain stockinette sleeve of my sweater. She let me hold her warm hands in mine to guide the occasional recalcitrant stitch, but for the most part, she did it all by herself. The tension left her body, she let her back relax into my side and we sat and knitted together for a good 15 minutes while we listened to the music. It was like homemade strawberry jam-so ordinary but unbelievably special at the same time. I tried to hide my sudden tears-it might be the last such moment with this particular 6-year old. Then the 4 year old wanted her turn, so up she came. She's never done it before, but we worked together, her tiny hands folded into mine, her wrapping the yarn and me pulling it through, step by step, her sweaty little self settled completely into my lap, trusting me to help her make each loop. I played with her hair and fanned her neck with my book and we knitted some more, then she went back to her mom. I was glad my friend was sitting in front of me, looking at the musicians.

I fingered the knitting and looked it over through watery eyes, trying to decide whether to rip it back or not. It was an instant, easy decision. This sweater is for me and yes, there are one or two rounds where the stitches are just a little off the gauge. And I think we did an extra round between increases. But I will always know that two particular sets of hands made those rounds of stitches-see them there? In the left sleeve, about halfway to the elbow. Yes, those uneven ones. I will always remember two little girls wanting to be on my lap for a minute, warm against me, enclosing a little bit of who they are at this moment in the stitches. Somehow, it helped me feel braver about the miles that will soon be between their mom and me.

Some people think homemade strawberry jam is a waste of time, kinda like knitting. But those of us in on the secret know that a few minutes' effort allows us to experience a moment of perfect summer sweetness any time we need it.

read more

Monday

The routine is stepping down a notch today and there is change in the air. Big change. The more I sit and write and edit and think, the more tender I'm feeling on this most ordinary of Monday mornings. Such is the meaning of the mundane in the life of a mother.

It's a beautiful morning-cool and crystalline. The temps are low and there is a breeze right now a little after 7 am so it feels delicious outside. My late spring flowers are starting to peak. The hydrangeas are a riot of blue-morphing-into-pink and the tiger lilies are just starting out their month-long parade of orange. The hard winter agrees with the garden-everything is strong and healthy after a good dose of cold forced them to really sleep and rest.
Seminary is over and Sam has a job. So, instead of Sam and Sara leaving together at 5:50 am, now they go their separate ways at 6:55 or so-Sara to the bus with her purse and her books on her arm and Sam to work in the summer job world of Pest Control, dressed like a real man in thrift-store Carhartt work pants and boots and carrying a lunch cooler. They left in the full light of a risen sun instead of the pale, ending darkness, so everything just feels different.

It gave me a strange pang to see Sara walk down the street alone with the morning light making a halo of her thick, honey-colored hair. She looked suddenly so very grown-up, so lovely and graceful. I've been hanging onto her very hard, not wanting to let her get big, I think hoping for more second chances to have a better relationship with her, wishing I could go back and tuck her little-girl self into my lap and tell her again that I love her so much. But today she stepped out alone. Maybe our brightest days will be in our second life as mother and daughter-when we're both grown-ups and she realizes that even my clumsiest attempts at mothering her were borne of love. I have glimpses of that, even now.

Today also means that the years of Evan and I having our hour together in the mornings are over. We'd read together or just joke around or even watch a little tv. Now his leaving comes fast on the heels of the other two, so today we had just enough time for a goodbye. In the fall, he's off to high school and my house will be empty before 6 am every day.

This one day really does mark another leap for our family, so I'm going to go ahead and let the tenderness come. I think I need it. I'm feeling more real, more myself than I have in weeks.

read more

One that Mr. Handey Could Have Written Himself

Sometimes, when you are out running, 

You will fall on your face

And your knees and your wrists

And it will hurt really bad

And you will think, 

"Wait. I hate running right now. Why did I leave my house?"

Yeah. This happened to me today. Of course. The universe knows I have a stinky attitude.  I have photos of my tangerine-sized knee, but I'll spare you.  The good news is that no one saw me go down this time. The bad new is that several parts of my body are now spectacularly black, blue and red all over.

Now it is like a holy war. Me against the entire sport of running. That could be just the motivation I need.

read more

Where is Jack Handey When I Need Him?

Yes, it's time for Deep Thoughts, but these are really deep, not stupidly entertaining, thus the plea for Jack to rescue me.  But now you know, so expect no chuckles here.

But here's the story. A couple of days ago, I found this on one of my favorite gifty websites (they are the grown-up side of Chinaberry Books):

It is my greatest comfort in life that I can just keep trying, because I live in the realm of Plan B, of trying to make amends, of wishing I could erase about half of the words I've ever spoken, of being ever-flexible in the face of stuff just not going as I envisioned. I know, it's good that I can be flexible because I know that many folks really struggle with that.  It's just that sometimes I just get so very tired of Plan B. And other people's plans. And hoping that maybe, just once, Plan A would just work.  Especially right now. I'm stuck in a hermit-tending, grumpy funk, and seem to be making mistakes at every turn. I can't stop talking when I should, I'm letting small irritations and anxieties get to me all the time, and I'm generally feeling more down on myself than usual. It's a strange thing because I'm fully functional and even enjoying most of the things I should be enjoying, but in the moments when I get fed up, all the junk rises to the surface.

Anyway, in the midst of all this silly wishing that I lived alone in a small cabin on a small island off the coast of Scotland, I saw this rock in a catalog. Platitudinous and cliched as it might seem, it seemed to be just what I needed.  So, since I'm not buying things, I got out one of my many rocks picked up from my many walks on the many beaches of the world. I got out a painty pen and wrote Begin Again in white paint on a black rock (found on a beach in Washington State while walking with a friend) and added a few little flourishes to make it my own version. It is now sitting on my desk, nestled just under my computer screen and next to my mouse, so it is in my vision over and over again in all its kitschy, homemade glory. 

Today I had a complete meltdown about, of all the dumb things, running, which used to be a favorite activity but actually isn't any more, and I was just a mess. I sat down to work on some photos to take my mind off my whiny, rotten attitude and saw my new rock. Begin Again. Begin. Again. Plan B Is Not So Bad. Do-over. Try it one more time. It's not the end of the world. It's going to be okay. Relax. Breathe.

And I did. I breathed and felt better. It actually worked to short circuit my death spiral of never wanting to run again so I can stop feeling slow and large and undisciplined and lazy. Running never used to make me feel that way, so I'm just really sad about losing the feeling of strength and grace and happiness I used to have.

So, tomorrow I'm going to begin running again. Hopefully without the current feelings of burnout and stupid comparisons and unrealized goals shackled to my ankles.  Instead,  I want to remember how I used to feel. And if I don't quite yet, there's always Saturday. And Monday. And after that, there's that lovely, hopeful word: etcetera...

read more

Duh Moment

This made it to my inbox today and I have been thinking about it all day long.

The minute we say something is difficult we make an arbitrary judgment on the task. Instead of obsessing over how difficult or easy it is, just do it. Focus on the result and, what's even more important, your reason for making it happen.

I think that I do that a lot. I decide something is hard with prejudice instead of with actual knowledge. I panic and call my husband or my mom before I really even try. Sometimes I call just to vent, but then another person is involved and it actually gets more complicated than if I had just thought it through on my own. This very thing happened in two different situations today and the solutions to the problems were much easier than I had pre-judged them to be.

Sigh.

Thank goodness I always get another turn in this sometimes completely un-fun Game of Life.

read more

The Gravity of Life (and Roller Coasters)

Tonight Sam went from an ending to a beginning in one step.
He was a senior, finished, at the apex of one of the swooping ups of the roller-coaster of life.
(I know, it is one of my favorite metaphors.)
For him, everything is visible at this moment, and gravity is harnessed for its power.
It is a well deserved moment of pride and happiness.
Put your hands in the air and scream, Sam!
Now he looks ahead and tomorrow is another day.
Just another day.
Job interviews, thinking about university this fall, getting his first debit card, grown up stuff.
It's that part of the roller coaster that gives you a minute to catch your breath.
It's nothing but a steep climb ahead.
But, amazingly, the momentum of the previous thrilling freefall will push him up, up again.
To other apexes and other thrilling moments
Where the views are wide and the feeling of flying is real.

read more