A Road Called Memory

I was browsing through some old photos of myself tonight, and it struck me how different life is now.  It’s not my looks that have really changed throughout the years.  I’ve changed my hair color, as women are apt to do, but otherwise a lot is the same – including my weight (thank the Lord for small victories!).  What struck me is how utterly old I feel now.  And, I guess in some ways the mountains I have successfully climbed in life have aged my soul even if they have not aged my body.  I have started to further comprehend the ‘with age comes wisdom’ quote, though at times I would gladly trade back some of the “wisdom” I have learned the hard way through life’s many trials in order to return to the innocent freedom of youth. 

As my mind continually veered back through the years I came to rest on my first crush in junior high.  My 12 year old is going through some similar life events and first ‘loves’ (and I use the term “love” loosely here) that I did at his age.  Seventh grade was such a magical year, when I look back on it now.  Actually being in the seventh grade however was very, very difficult as my body rushed to catch up with the emotional advances that changed and fluctuated daily.  My feelings about Austin, though, never wavered the entire time I was in middle school.  Thinking of it now, I giggle out loud.   Little Austin.  And I do mean little.  I was the shortest girl in my class.  He was shorter than I was.  But boy what he lacked in height he sure made up for in cuteness!  The pure infatuation I had with that boy…I still remember how he used to flip his straight, brown hair and roll his pants legs.  (This was the 90’s, okay?  We ALL used to roll our jeans.  You always had to buy them longer, so you could flip one side over the other and then fold them up twice.  Gave them this nice little skinny leg appeal.  Even the boys did it.)  Although one of the most popular kids in school (if not THE most popular boy), Austin still had this home town charm and offered a politeness to everyone he met – all the way from the future prom queen down to the band geeks.  And yes, I am proud to admit it – in school I fell into the latter category instead of the former. 

How things change as we age!  I came into a beauty all my own the summer between high school and college, and Austin was long since forgotten.  Surprisingly though, the lesson of that first love never did leave.  The innocence of childhood does still remain such a powerful force deep within our hearts.  Sometimes all it needs is a little nudge to come forth into reality.  As I find myself an older woman, single again, I seem to travel back to those gentler days with more and more frequency as I remember the incorruptibility and the longing of things yet to come.  I can still taste the promise of so many open opportunities that were to lie ahead of me, and those past memories are juxtaposed with the harsh reality I have already come to know so closely and deeply.  As I begin to step a toe out into the dating world, testing the water to see if it is in fact warm enough to jump into, I think back to little Austin.  Those magical feelings I would so innocently experience as my heart would skip that beat when he’d walk by in the hall still brings a flutter to my stomach.  And really now is no different than seventh grade; I look forward to the flutter and tickle of things unknown that have yet to pass.

I looked back through those photos yet again, and although my body as well as my mind has certainly aged, I looked close – peered in – and I did see it.  The shimmer and glistening in my eyes of those things hoped for but not yet come to fruition.  I began to rethink the ‘with age comes wisdom’ quote.  Maybe wisdom is nothing more than adding the innocence of childhood to the experience of today – the joining of the optimism from yesterday and the joy of the present together in order to experience a hope for tomorrow.  Who knows, maybe my ‘Austin’ is still out there….

A Day in the Life of a Single Mother

• There will always be Cheerios hidden on the kitchen floor, dirty laundry in the hamper, and toys on the floor.  Always.  No matter how hard I try otherwise.
• I am always late.  No matter how early I wake up.  God has already given St. Peter at the gate notice that when I am called Home, he has time for a coffee break, because I will show up late.
• Silence and quiet are two things never in my house, at least not until both boys leave for college.  I have 17 more years to go, at which time I will probably have forgotten what silence and quiet are like and will go out of my mind attempting to make enough noise on my own to liven the house up a bit.
• A dinner is not always from a recipe, and sometimes not even from the oven.  In fact, suppers from a box or a McDonald’s happy meal does quantify dinner.  Gourmet suppers that take hours to prepare are a thing of the past.
• I never have enough time to get myself ready.  I just count my blessings that I manage to make it out of the house and remember to change from my slippers to actual shoes.  (As a side note, I actually got in the car one time still in my slippers.  Luckily, as I went to shift into reverse, I noticed and sped back in the house to change.)  My son is petrified I will show up at school unknowingly still in my pajamas.  I don’t promise him otherwise, as one day it might just happen.
• My house will never be clean.  Not completely.  Most days I have to dust the dust off of the Pledge before I can begin to clean.
• The days will always run together.  One evening I searched incessantly for a favorite television program.  Only after cursing the network for removing it did I realize that the TV show I was looking for is televised Monday nights.  Today was Friday, not Monday.  Somewhere I lost an entire weekend.
• On any given day, something is always missing, broken, or needing to be purchased. 
• I will always wake up exhausted, no matter how many hours of sleep I get.
• I will always second guess myself insofar as the decisions I make on my own that affect my boys and our future.
• ‘No’ is the most often used word in the English vocabulary, followed by stop and then sit.  At least in my vocabulary.
• Is single motherhood an Olympic sport?  It’s not?  It should be.
• I have resigned myself to never being able to go to the bathroom again in peace, and that I will not get a shower that is over five minutes for many years to come.
• Most men look at my life, smile, and keep going.  That’s okay.  It takes a strong person to wrap their arms around all the blessings I have.  I’m okay with waiting; my boys are too important to simply settle.
• Social life?  I’m sorry, what is that again?
• On any given day, my calendar and to do list have more items on them than the New York Stock exchange. 
• No matter how hard you try to explain it, people just can not visualize the life you lead and why walking around with dried baby milk on your shoulder just really isn’t a big deal, in the grand scheme of things.
• No matter how busy your day is, there is always room to dry tears, help with that really unbearable math problem, and tuck each little angel in at night.
• You will always forget something every time you leave the house.  As long as it’s not the children, it will be okay.
• ‘E’ doesn’t always mean empty on the gas tank.  Sometimes it stands for just ‘Enough’ gas to get the kids to school, drive through the bank to make a transfer, slide into the grocery to get more formula, before gently coasting to rest at the pump – with just enough room to get the nozzle in the tank.
• Although single motherhood was not my choice, I’ve come to embrace all that it offers.  What other life experience can cause you to grow in ways you never imagined and obtain strength when you thought yours was completely depleted?

Not Strong Enough

Was up early on a Saturday for a track meet.  Gone are the days I can just hop in the shower and head out the door!  Just a few months ago I finally figured out how to add putting on makeup back into my routine.  I was tired of hearing my 12 year old tell me how ‘tired’ I look.  Now I still appear tired, but at least my face shows it with a rosy glow and lined eyes!

As I was rolling through my fog of having to function early Saturday morning, I began to ponder over the latest action news in my normally obsolete romantic life.  Understandably, I’m really not looking to date.  I’ve always said that if God wants me to have a man in my life, He’ll literally drop him in my life.  In January a guy asked me out…in church.  Considering the atmosphere I was in, I agreed. 

Very upfront about my situation, I gently informed this guy just how many things he’d have to wrap his arms around if he became a steady pillar in my life.  I hold firm that any man has to have a very big heart, and very large arms, to wrap around my life.  It’s not just me – but one pre-teen, one infant, two cats, one old blind deaf, dog, my mom who comes over practically everyday to help, a job that is worked from home, and a house that’s constantly a revolving mess.  That’s a lot to wrap around.  He seemed to envelop this, stating he commends me for working at home so as not to utilize day care and having someone else raise my kids, and that he’d worry if my house was neat as that would mean I wasn’t focusing on my family or my job.  Unreal, I thought.  Who is this man?  I was not used to the support and it seemed his values lined up exactly with mine. 

I’ll spare you the gory, mushy details.  Two months later after a bit of a slow run, I receive a phone call stating he wasn’t coming over as planned because “the guys” were at his house for a ball game.  He quickly transitioned into a very roundabout conversation that led me to wonder what had just happened when I had hung up the phone.  There was talk about it being slow (wasn’t that what we had agreed to do?  Move slow and get to know each other?).  That it is amazing because I am one of the greatest women he’s ever dated, and he just can’t say anything negative, but that I have ‘a lot going on’ (um, I know – didn’t I tell you that?).  At one point he even stated that he was glad we talked about this lull between us and we’ll see how it goes.  Then it quickly moved into the “I’m so glad we’re friends, and you can’t have too many good people surrounding you”, at which point his friends started getting louder and he said he better get to the game.  I hung up the phone and actually had to sit and translate what had just happened.  I came to the conclusion that he had just broken it off.  Yeah, go get your friends buddy.  And here’s a hint – if you don’t want to spend your next four decades single like you’ve spent your last four, don’t break up with a girl as your friends sit in the next room watching the game.  Be respectful enough to at least do it in person and plainly communicate through it!  I watched an interview with Aretha Franklin a few Sundays ago.  The host politely asked the famous singer about her love life – or the lack of it.  Smiling in her quiet fashion, she promptly responded that none are strong enough.  I double that, sister!

As the day winds down to a close and the once applied makeup wears off, I know I am strong enough, even if someone else is not.   It can get lonely being the strong one every day, all day, but I know my shoulders are strong, my heart is big, and my arms can wrap around this house and all those in it. 

Living with Integrity (and Laughter!)

Ahhh, you think I'd be used to this single mom thing by now. But, I have found every day is different, and each dawn comes with its own challenges. A wise woman once told me the best I can do is to live each day with integrity.  For me, it’s not living with integrity – it’s surviving with integrity.  And a survivor I am.  As my journey is revealed throughout these blog posts, it is my hope that my words may speak and come alive for another. 

I am one, but I no longer stand alone.  I know that now, but for many years I thought just the opposite.  One in four women throughout their lifetime will personally experience or be exposed to some degree of domestic abuse.  Feelings of isolation and seclusion were prominent; living with an abusive man can be a very solitary existence.  Masters of control and manipulation, they are very adept at pulling you away from every comfort you once knew – including your own self-confidence. 

Many who have witnessed or experienced abuse do not speak up, fearful of what may happen if they do.  Because of this understandable fear, the statistics on abused women are not concrete, and many court systems as well as counselors underestimate the unyielding power an abusive man holds.  In turn, many therapists, judges, and law enforcement officials often do not give the abused the help they so desperately need in times of crises.  I know all this not only because I have been down that muddled path, but because I have learned through self instruction and through counseling with a local crises center the tools and education I need to move on, and to move up.

Some days this blog will be about my struggle or my survival, some about my past or educational tools for the future.  Others will be about the mundane and sometimes overwhelming day to day tasks a single mother faces, or even just the silliness of having a twelve year old, a nine month old, two cats, and a fifteen year old blind, deaf dog – all in the same household -  with only one woman coordinating it all.  (To confirm the silliness – I must share with you the afternoon the rice fell off the top shelf of the pantry, scattering all over the floor, right after we came out of hiding in the closet from a tornado warning with the electricity being out.  This was shortly followed by my oldest son dropping a can of root beer which subsequently exploded all over the tile.  In the midst of it all, the poor old blind, deaf dog piddled on the kitchen floor in the confusion.  True story.  I kid you not.  Welcome to my world!)  I do not want my journey to only be about the heavy or the oppressive, because there is so much more to it than that.  There IS joy, and there IS hope, and I want to convey that.  And when it is all said and done, the dry rice on the floor which is absorbing the root beer in the dark which is being spread around by the dog wandering around really is funny, if you stop and think about it. 

If you are reading this and are in an abusive relationship yourself, please use caution if you are using your home computer.  An abuser will check your activity, whether it be via phone records, computer history, or travel itineraries.  Make sure at the least to clear your computer’s history, cache, and cookies, and for your own safety, use a public computer or go to a trusted friend or family member for the use of their PC.  Many cities have crises centers for domestic abuse; if you are ready to seek help please utilize the wonderful resources they offer, or go to a trusted friend or family member to have them help you institute your safety plan as leaving an abuser can be a potentially dangerous situation.