This year...

About a year ago I started my recovery journey.  Sean was in treatment and I headed off, over the 4th of July weekend, for four days of Family Group - which turned out to be, for me, basically Al Anon boot camp.  I met some wonderful people and wonder frequently about many of them and what their year has been like.  We were taught to always say our closing prayer while standing with our left foot forward in honor of all those "left behind" and still suffering in their disease.  I did that tonight at the close of my weekly meeting, as I usually do, and remembered. 

This year, we are just ending our "girls week", at home alone while Sean enjoys his annual fishing trip in Canada.  It's been a good week - not too remarkable - and we are so looking forward to his arrival back home tomorrow night.  I am reminded that for all the things I'd like to do better in our relationship, his is still the only lap I have ever thrown myself, when I just need to be held; and his is still the embrace I know will always be there for me; and he is the one person I always know will have my back.  I miss him and am so glad that he and I are walking our recovery path together.

I am also very grateful for the "we" program that is Al Anon for me.  I often tell myself that I don't fit in, or that others don't understand me, and I recognize it for the defense mechanism that it is.  And I know that in all the ways that matter, I am part of the larger community that is Al Anon - and the fact that my story is different in some ways is part of the Higher Power of the program actually adds to the program.  We are all different and yet we are all so much the same. 

It's been a good year and there is another good year ahead. 

My weekend was marvelous!

I had such a great weekend.  It is always a good thing when I get to cut out early on a Friday, and I did that last Friday - leaving at noon to start my weekend.  Sean was leaving for his annual fishing trip in Canada, so he was excited, and the girls and I were heading back to my hometown area for the weekend. 

To start things off this social weekend, we stopped at Subway to pick up sandwiches for supper later at the lake.  My niece's friend was working and the only patron in the store was my former basketball coach.  I laughed and had a good time chatting with both of them.

That night, we went out to the lake cabin where my friends were staying - that wonderful family from the anniversary party last weekend.  My girls got to play in the lake with the other kids tearing around, and I got to chat with my high school friend who now lives in Sweden.  It was lovely and a beautiful night at the lake.  There weren't even mosquitoes to speak of, until the sun went down.  It was awesome. 

Saturday morning, we were driving to my mother's hometown to meet a bunch of my family at the cemetery, where we were meeting to bury my uncle's ashes.  He died in Memphis around Christmas, and his sons came up from Tennessee to inter him with my grandparents.  But before we left, I went to the grocery store to pick up soda and ice and ran into a good guy friend and his two boys - hadn't seen him in several years, so that was a surprise treat. 

My sister and I car pooled to Pipestone for the burial.  It was a gorgeous day and a happy occasion to see everyone, while at the same time a poignant goodbye to my uncle.  We had a picnic afterwards, which was interesting, since this group of about 15 adults and 15 kids is roughly 50% alpha dogs when it comes to planning and organizing.  Picture a herd of sheep with a half dozen sheepdogs, all with a different idea of where those sheep should be, and the other half dozen sheepdogs muttering their own opinions but fighting their own urge to herd the sheep.  Somehow, all the sheep were fed and no stragglers were lost.

Afterwards we took the kids to the Pipestone National Monument.  If you ever have a few hours in southwestern Minnesota, it is really something to see.  You think it's all just random prairie and then there are these gorgeous cliffs and quarries just hidden out there, with a creek and waterfall too.  Gorgeous!

And then back to the hometown area where the remaining cousins (and my mom and uncle) gathered at a local establishment on Green Lake for supper and more smart talk.  It was a great location (thanks, it was this sheepdog's suggestion) and about eight of us hung out until after dark, catching up and hopefully starting planning discussions for another family reunion. 

I was laughing by Saturday night, wondering who else I'd see out of the blue.  Well, as it turned out, it was one of my daughters' very first daycare teachers!  I saw this young lady out on the patio at the restaurant and thought she looked familiar.  Asked my sister if she knew her, which would rule in or rule out anyone from our hometown, and she did not.  Then the light bulb went off and I walked up and asked her if I knew her from Loving Arms daycare - and I was right!  The bummer was that my cousin's husband had just taken all our kids back to the hotel to swim, but happily enough, they had just come outside to say goodbye to everyone and she had seen them and recognized them, though she didn't think I'd remember her, so she didn't say anything.  Funny enough, my husband and I had just been talking about this daycare teacher (Stacy) and her sister who also was a teacher there, only about two weeks ago, and were trying to remember Stacy's name.  I was tickled to have talked to her.

It was a lovely weekend of catching up and seeing old friends and extended family.  I left with a smile on my face and a great feeling of reconnection. 

Perspective

I have wallowed in my share of angst over the years - as evidenced in this blog and to anyone who has ever known me for more than 20 minutes.  And then, when I realize I'm wallowing again, I then have the angst of trying to accept the earlier angst versus feeling guilty for it.  Or, on really special occasions, I morph right into the "but no-one understands me!" drama that can last for eons.

As I was tossing around ideas just now, since I haven't written a post in several days, I re-visited a couple others I'd pondering over the past several days - I was gone again last weekend so spent time on the weekend planning future posts in my head, you know how that goes!  I'd had this whole dramatic series planned in my head, analyzing the great TEDx talk that Elan Morgan gave about self-doubt and using it to move yourself forward (and it's a great great video - go to her blog and check it out, you will LOVE it) ... but then I realized that much of my thoughts her talk ended up being of the "but no-one understands me!" type and I rolled my eyes and realized what a drama queen I was being.  Which then squelched all possible post-writing out of my head initially.

Until I thought of another drama queen in my life - my 9 year old daughter.  Oh my Lord, can that girl flip herself out about anything.  Huge crocodile tears over a thunderstorm watch on TV, or panic attacks over the possibility of shark attack (keep in mind we live in Minnesota, where sharks are rare), or the latest tragedy - the mosquito swarms we've had so far this year that, I grant you, are the worst in my memory, but the girl seems to think they are going to carry her off.  We frequently discuss the uselessness of unnecessary drama and it hit me tonight that I am doing the exact same thing!  There is so much b.s. spiraling my brain - I know it is largely just there to keep me stuck and not moving forward (internal messages about what I can't do or shouldn't do or shouldn't have to do, you know the kind). 

So next time I'm all in my pity party world - I'm going to use the same words I use with my daughter to knock some sense into myself.  What are the odds of someone understanding you if you don't open up your mouth and actually share what's going on inside you?  About the same odds of a shark attack in Minnesota, dumbass. 

It's raining, it's pouring...

and yes, the old man is snoring ... and I can't sleep.  Storms again tonight - more dumping rain on our water logged and mosquito swarmed land.  My nine year old was only awake twice, anxiety over the thunder and lightning.  The seven year old was stressing last evening about the flash flood watch notices on the TV, asking when the flood was coming. 

Hubs came to bed last night, telling me that we had a water leak - water dripping out of the kitchen light fixture.  I must have been really tired, because I fell asleep anyway, but I woke up about 2 a.m. pondering that water leak, which led to pondering the holes in our siding which already cause me anxiety about the potential for pest infestation (squirrels, bats, bees, and who knows what else), and now I can worry about moisture and mold and leaks and collapsing ceilings.

So I finally got up at 3 a.m.  Wiped up more puddles on the floor in the kitchen, emptied the bucket, and admired the water stains on the kitchen ceiling.  Sigh. 

My weekend

I had a really marvelous weekend.  It was nothing special, but did include some time with my family, my godfather/uncle, and seeing familiar faces both at our former church and at a 50th anniversary party.  My husband looks at me a little funny, and my grumpy-old-man dad can't even fathom how I can have enjoyed myself as much as I did.

But the thing that is sticking with me is the phenomenon of people who are just magnetic and can make anyone feel like part of the family - you know those people?  It is a magical thing when you meet someone and you just know that you and everyone else would just do anything to remain in their inner circle.  The couple having the 50th anniversary party are like that, only better.  I've met some of those magnetic people before and have had to learn to accept they are sort of that "friends for a season" type of friend, and they move on in life away from me.  But this family, who have been family friends of my parents and us for about 30 years, is better because once you are "part of the family", you are always part of the family.  Warmly received whenever you can be together.  They have five children and I was particular friends with the three older daughters who were all in school and sports with me (the other two were a bit younger).  This family had virtually nothing material, and yet if I (and probably any number of other kids in our small town) could have moved into their house and just been adopted into one of them, I'd have done it in a heartbeat.  They (the parents) are the kindest, warmest, openest people I've ever met and their kids have grown into so much the same kind of people.  What a wonderful afternoon, to be spent catching up with my friends, and hearing stories and seeing pictures of Marlyn and Ildiko's 50+ years together, and talking to so many familiar faces. 

I asked Sean on the way home what it is about people that make them so ... whatever it is ... and he agreed he knew what I meant about this family and he could only say that some people just have "it".  I would love to have a home where friends and family know they can come and where they will be warmly welcomed and valued and enjoyed, and that the concept of "just pull up a chair" is perfectly acceptable.  These folks live on a corner in my hometown, with a big yard and garden, and if you see their lights are on, or people are out in the yard, you know you are always welcome to join them no matter what is going on.  And there is always a warm teapot ...

So I come away from my weekend with a renewed sense of happiness, having renewed my acquaintances and friendships, and maybe create a goal for myself to do what I can do to make myself more of that kind of person.  I have a warm heart, extra chairs, and I my Keurig can double for a warm teapot, now to figure out what I can do about the stuff in between! 

Happy Father's Day!

We're away for the weekend, so this post is coming to you from the Country Inn & Suites in my parents' hometown.  I went to high school nearby and lived in this town for six or seven years before we moved to our current home, so visiting here does feeling like being "back home" and it's nice to hang for the weekend.  It is especially nice to have reached a point where I can feel no guilt about booking a hotel - give us some space (and a pool!) and give my parents some space. 

A few months I wrote a post about my dad (here) and then last week I saw a writing suggestion to write something about what you learned from your dad.  Well, let me just say that my dad was full of rules and slogans growing up - all the musts and shoulds you can imagine.  And while I have been a mouthy and questioning person since birth, I think I managed to quell much of it for years.  But long about my 30s, I really got over all that "should" stuff.  It is difficult to guilt me into much of anything now.  Oh I still do a lot of the same stuff, but I do it because I want to, because I want to be part of this bigger thing called family and hometown and community - I don't do it because anyone else will look at me funny if I don't.

As for my dad, in my 30s I moved to the town where they live and saw my folks a lot.  We went to the same church and sang in the same church choir.  And my dad was totally naughty and disrespectful at choir rehearsal - talking and not paying attention.  If I had done that in my childhood and been caught by my dad (and I was a few times), I would have been dragged out by my ear and lectured for what felt like days.  And so, being the good oppositional child I was raised to be, I would turn around at choir rehearsal and hiss at him "show some respect!" and when he would complain about this or that at church I would shrug and say "you get out of it what you put into it"...and he would sputter and glare at me, but what could he say since those were his own words coming back to haunt him!  Good fun, particularly since I seem to have inherited all my dad's crotchety genes! 

But the Number One Life Lesson I learned from my dad is what I mentioned in the earlier post - when I had my car accident in 1985 and totalled his car:  who gives a goddamn about the car, what is important is whether my loved one is OK.  I joke sometimes that the only real lessons that get through to me are the ones delivered with a 2x4 like a car accident - but let's talk about a clear lesson about priorities in life.  If your kids and loved ones are OK, then life is good.  The rest will sort itself out. 

Happy Father's Day, Dad.  I am grateful every day that you is still here to hug and harass and mutter about. 

He baked a cake!

I came home from work yesterday and found that my husband had baked a cake!  He got his one year medallion at his home meeting last night and baked a cake to take along.  Just two weeks ago, the girls wanted to make a pan of some rice krispie bar type treat and he gamely gave it a go.  I asked him if he had ever made anything like that before - nope.  So I asked him about the cake - ever done that before?  Nope.  I think he was a little proud of himself!  In the past, he'd just buy treats at the grocery store ... I have to wonder what has come over him.  He just shrugged when I asked.  It makes me smile, whatever it is.