Mar 19, 2012

A Grouchy Stomach and Mind to Go With It

My stomach over the last week has been in constant complaint. I just can't seem to find anything to make it feel better. My dad used to talk about the same complaint and I am hoping that isn't one of those "why did I have to inherit that" kind of genetic traits.

My mind has been grumbling too. There has been so much going on. I want to scream to the havens for it to stop, but I don't think the sky is listening. I am glad I am not a drown your troubles in liquor type because I would be floating in an alcohol sea.

Life can serve up a big load of crap at times. It isn't fair, polite, or constructive. We all get hit with it and we all handle it in different ways. When it gets to be too much, I cry. It doesn't mean I can't handle it. It means I just need to cry. I think of it as my release valve. If I didn't turn on the tear spigot at times, it would turn into anger. You know the ugly kind that spews over onto everyone.

It feel so much better to acknowledge I want to shred some paper, kick some cans, and choke some people. No, I am not going on a tirade. I am doing my pencil therapy as I like to call it, writing out what doesn't need to stay inside. I don't need to give names or circumstances here. In my quiet time I lift it up in prayer. I heard a preacher once who said, "The Devil knows where your goat is tied and he will get your goat." I think I will keep him guessing.

Mar 8, 2012

A Blog from my youngest, Carrie

This has been a scary week. My oldest daughter, Dawn, went in for her cancer check up and there was a problem. Her kidney function had dropped significantly. So thankful that the problem could be corrected by a stent. My youngest daughter, Carrie, wrote a moving blog about her love for Dawn. I wanted to share it and hope you will take the opportunity to read it.

Dear, Sweet Sister of Mine

Mar 3, 2012

The Hardest Lesson

Ok, I am once again writing for Kellie Elmore's Free Write Friday. This is the challenge she presented to us. Finish this line…
“One of the hardest/most important/best (<- your choice) lessons I have ever learned was…” Elaborate.


One of the hardest lessons I ever learned was the lesson of letting go. It seemed from early childhood I always tried to hold onto things whether it was the smallest paper note to clinging to those I loved. There seemed to be this inborn desperation to fight giving up on anything I felt belonged to me.

I didn’t learn this lesson easily. It began when my husband told me we would be leaving our childhood state of Missouri and would make a move to Texas. He had been without a permanent job for two years and there was an opportunity to return to the oil company he worked for prior to the economic downturn in the late seventies. It wasn’t even a choice to leave it was a necessity.

I remember arriving in Houston on a Friday night. We had left a tiny town of 1200 people where almost every car held someone I knew. I was in complete shock when I was surrounded by hundreds of cars driven by strangers. Suddenly the dream of a better life had me crying for the uncertain one I had left behind.

When we finally arrived at the apartment that was to be our new home, I relaxed a little bit. But that was short lived. It was then a flurry of unpacking as much from our U-haul as we could because my husband had to be on the job again in just a few hours. Weary when I finally crawled into bed my last thought was, “I don’t think I can do this.”

It was days and months of letting go of everything I had known. Our phone bill was huge because I was always calling my family trying to ease the loneliness inside. My heart was tied to them and it wasn’t I had to give up my love. It was having to give up not being able to see them when I wanted or feeling their touch or seeing them smile.

Letting go has been a hard lesson that still has me as a student. It is not just physical but emotional things I have clung too. It should have been easy to let go of a past that hurt me or a friend who proved to be false. For me I was always trying to be a savior, to change what was wrong while still holding on. There has to be that decision to let go and I am getting better at it. Life isn’t in my control. At times I feel I am the only person in that classroom. Perhaps I am just the only one willing to admit not every situation has received the stamp “lesson learned.”