"I Thank My God, When I Think of You...."

Sick day....I've finally hit the wall.  I just couldn't go in there one more time. At age 57, I'm still a wuss when it comes to conflict, and I still desperately need mental health days.  Not just mental/emotional health; I've had a killer headache for days.....due in part, I'm sure, to the very dry, cold weather we've been having for the past week, but mostly as a result of my job.

We are two days from Thanksgiving. Somehow, I thought that by the time I was this age, life would be more settled, even-keeled, satisfying. And it's not. I am in a job that a year ago was terrific, but starting in January 2013 became a daily nightmare. It's been 11 months of water torture; bit by bit, day by day, the erosion of spirit and purpose in that office has become downright toxic. So, I'm home, trying to figure out how to be thankful for all the blessings in my life - and there are many - when all I can see is a job that has gone rapidly south, five years until retirement, a mountain of debt, and a 27 year old in my family room...

I know, oh how I know, it could be much worse....it HAS been much worse...there have been many episodes of unemployment, of not knowing how we'd scrape together the mortgage payment and keep the cars alive....I remember them vividly, which is good. Keeps one grounded and appreciative. But the thought of doing this for another five years or more is so exhausting and demoralizing, I'm not sure how I'll survive. But there are things/people for which I am deeply thankful, and I have to remember them:

1. Tim - 'nuff said.

2. Brian and Andrew - two of the three greatest gifts I've ever received.

3. Liz and Jean - the young woman who loves my son, and her mother, who is like my sister.

4. My siblings, siblings-in-law, and our nieces and nephews - I hit the jackpot on all counts - nothing inspires me more than watching our nieces/nephews create their lives, and seeing their friendships with one another.

5. Our great Nieces and great-Nephews (we're comin' up on #4 and #5) - cuteness personified! Carbon copies of their parents, who are phenomenal parents.

  

 
 6. My "Bezzes" - they know who they are, don't ask me to explain the term. I think it's safe to say I would not have reached adulthood without them.

  
 
 








7. My Tiare Hills friends - therapy taking a walk. They are my lifeline, my walking buddies, sounding boards, and giggling companions. I don't know how other people exist without this kind of neighborhood.

  









8. My Santa Clara friends - Few people can say they have maintained the kind of quality and longstanding friendship that we enjoy....don't get to see each other often, but we just pick up where we left off.  They alone are worth more than the tuition.

9. Holy Redeemer Parish  - THIS is the kind of community that embodies the church. What wonderful, caring, warm, funny people they are - everyone is welcome, cherished, included. And the Notre Dame score updates before Mass are just another perk.

     

 







10. Home - not just our beautiful, comfy house, but its neighborhood, the region of WA/OR in the Northwest, with spectacular scenery in every direction - the glory of 5 mountain days, mauve sunrises and sunsets, ocean waves, winter storms, everything about this place is home.

THERE - I feel much better now.  Reminds me of the quote, "If the only prayer you ever say is Thank You, that is enough".  Or, from the letter of St. Paul to the Phillippians, "I thank my God when I think of you".  And I do. Oh, how I do.

"Will you still need me, will you still feed me....."

This has been a strange month.....normally, I love September; a gradual change in the seasons, with its own endearing qualities....a shift in the type of daily activities, weekend must-dos, and clothes in the closet. But this year, September has been just a bit wacko.  It began and ended with fairly ferocious rainstorms, which wouldn't be a big deal if it were November or January, but is unusual for September. During the first week, darling husband's brother arrived (TOTAL surprise to His Highness) for said husband's 60th birthday celebration.  The actual birthday, mind you, was a full month earlier, but I think too much of a good thing is wonderful, so we stretched out the celebrations for about 6 weeks: first, a backyard BBQ with assorted friends from the neighborhood, the office, and our church; next, an actual day-of party with just the two of us and one son; and last, a wine-tasting event at Maryhill Winery in Goldendale, WA for which brother-in-law was kind enough to join us. Tim thought I was off to Book Club for the evening; unbeknownst to him, it had been cancelled, which provided the perfect excuse to take the car (it was pouring rain) and head for the airport to retrieve John.  I was quite pleased that Tim was thoroughly, completely, and happily surprised when I arrived home from "Book Club" somewhat early, and explained that there was nothing great being discussed, so I brought home something far more interesting - enter Big Bro.

On Saturday, which was warm, sunny and gorgeous, we piled in the car and headed east up the Columbia Gorge for the two hour drive. Maryhill is a relatively new winery - within the past dozen years - VERY isolated, as is most everything that far east, but hosts a fabulous view of the surrounding cliffs and river.  Also, happily, has some wicked good wines! We had a lovely tour, followed by a HUGE tasting - probably more than we could effectively judge.  Then we bought a picnic lunch and a bottle of one of the ones we all liked, and sat outside listening to live jazz.  A most civilized way to spend a Saturday!

 John's visit was just the tonic needed to dispel the feelings that plagued hubby - sixty already? Was this all there was? Shouldn't I have accomplished more by now?  Really, a happy marriage, two pretty awesome kids, great friends, a nice home and a decent job are not too shabby ways to describe a life of quality. And in his heart of hearts, he knows that, but the arrival of the number itself kind of threw him for a loop.  It's what comes as the result of a strong work/family ethic combined with the lack of desire to make a million bucks - sometimes one precludes the other.

Now, the month is ending on a very different note: I'm playing Florence Nightingale as Tim recovers from some - ahem - "guy surgery", which is all I'll say about that, except to acknowledge that I HATE being on this end of the equation - Tim has always been the one taking care of me.  And while I am not a particular fan of surgery or illness, I would much rather be the one in pain - at least I KNOW with certainty the degree of discomfort. When I'm on the nurse end of things, I can't be sure if he's downplaying his pain to make me feel better (as I often did when the shoe was on the other foot).  I don't like - at ALL - seeing him that vulnerable.  That he reached this age without having ANY kind of anesthesia (even novocaine!), much less any surgery, is testament to his incredible state of good health.  But it also meant that we had no idea how his body would react to anesthesia, and knowing how badly I react to it, I was terrified on his behalf.  But I had to put on my brave, optimistic, smiley face for his benefit, even when he almost passed out the first evening we were home.  Recovery has required my assistance with some of the basic skills: showering, eating, dressing, etc., and I had a horrible sense of foreboding....will it someday be like this permanently instead of temporarily?  To his credit, Tim was a lovely patient - calm, good-humored, appreciative.  But he has always been MY protector, not the other way around, and it's very unsettling. And it means we're not 19 anymore. Which I knew intellectually, but generally refused to face with my heart.

Tomorrow he returns to the doctor for his followup appointment, removal of drains, and clearance to return to work, which is planned for Tuesday.  Maybe then life will return to whatever normal is; all the milestones of the year will be finished, and we'll slide into the holidays. I can't add any more grey hair than I've already got, but I think there just may be an additional scar on my heart.....

Stay tuned.....

"She's Real Fine, My 409..."

I've been pretty lucky when it comes to driving; over the past 42 years, only been remotely involved in 2 or 3 fender bender type accidents, none of which were my fault.  So I guess it was bound to happen eventually - while on his way home from his last night of finals, our son Andrew was in an accident. I want to be clear about this - it was not his fault!  As he was leaving a stoplight, some jackass decided it was a good idea to TEXT her way down the freeway off-ramp, and rear-ended our Subaru - which hit the car in front of it, which hit the car in front of it. A total of four cars involved and guess who took the brunt of it? You got it - ours. Really, the damage isn't visibly extensive - she got the rear passenger bumper and shoved it into the rear passenger tire, so that it rubs when driven. With a Subaru, you don't just replace ONE tire, you replace them as a set of 4. So it sits in our garage.

But today, the powers that be - AKA insurance companies - decided in their wisdom that my car is essentially totalled, and they'd be happy to give me $3K to take it off my hands. But I can't replace it for that! And, if I want to get it fixed, they'll deduct $700 from that price! 'Scuse me? It's MY car, completely paid for, I pay the insurance premiums, and you're gonna DEDUCT money if I want to fix it? Something is really wrong here.....

The best thing is that Drew was not hurt. Furious, yes, but not hurt. And that is what matters most. But it seems to me that if someone causes injury or damage as the result of doing something STUPID with their 3 ton weapon, we shouldn't simply suspend their license - we already know they don't play by the rules - they should forfeit their vehicle!!!  Somewhere in Clark County, there is an obnoxious, clueless, not-very-bright woman driving around in her late model Outback with nary a scratch, and MY car is about to be totalled!!!  I WANT THAT WOMAN'S CAR!!!!!

Ouch....

My trunk no longer closes...

Double Ouch....

 

THIS is totalled????

"Keep Calm and Marry On..."

Ah, true love...is there anything more uplifting or encouraging? To think that one couple's relationship can change their world, and perhaps change ours?  The Wedding was May 25, and I have to say it went better than I expected.  Every wedding has "stories"; the little things that happen and create anecdotes that last forever.  If your wedding is "perfect", you probably spent too much time worrying about the day instead of what it means to be married.  But that's just me.  Brian and Liz had an absolutely beautiful day, and a lovely ceremony with family and good friends, as they hoped for. Was it the party to end all parties as we would have liked? No, of course not.  But who cares? It was fun, we were with people we loved, we enjoyed each other's company, the pictures will be spectacular, and that's really all that mattered. It brought back memories of our own wedding, almost 35 years ago - looking at Brian at the top of the aisle reminded me of looking at Tim when I was the one processing. And now, I'm the one watching, gaining the daughter we never had. I wish for them every joy and happiness they dream of, and not as much of the other stuff, although I know it will come.

"Starting here, starting now, when we walk, we'll walk together, year by year, starting here...."

It's been quite a while since I visited to write. The reasons don't matter much, except to me.  Suffice it to say that I've been somewhat bruised, and it's taken me this long to feel brave enough to continue.

Our son is getting married on Saturday. If you want to be picky, he's already married - he and Liz had a civil ceremony in November, which I described in a previous post. This one will be in a church, which surprises me no end.  Not because they don't believe in marriage as a sacrament, but because Brian tends to have issues with authority, and the Catholic Church is nothing if not authoritative. But it's what they wanted, and that's fine with me. As I've said before, I'm a sucker for weddings, be they in a church, on a beach, at a winery, whatever. So I'll go to as many as I'm invited to, and they've been nice enough to invite me to this one!

I can't wait to see him in a tux. Or, for that matter, see his dad and his brother in tuxes. That's another thing that makes me drool - guys in tuxes. And my three guys are handsome in raggy old jeans, so the tux thing can only make it better! At the same time, I know that vision will reduce me to tears; passage of time, handing over the baton, all that stuff. I will miss my family of origin.  Mom & Dad have "mezzanine seats", but none of my siblings or Brian's McCarthy cousins could afford to make the trip - a combination of no money or new babies, or more likely, both. So the only McCarthy representatives will be my Chicago cousins and their spouses, all of whom I adore, and who have known me since I was a pup, and known Brian for the last few years. So that will ease my loneliness somewhat.

And then there are those Deans.....Tim's family will be there in droves. Every single sibling and spouse, and one of Bri's cousins - the first Dean grandchild. And I REALLY love those guys - we are guaranteed to have a blast even if no one else shows up! I know it will all go too quickly, and by Sunday we'll all be thoroughly exhausted. But this is a family milestone. And I just gotta be there. Pictures and stories to follow....

"....When will they ever learn?...."

Like just about everyone else in the country this morning, I am reeling and shell-shocked after yesterday, the worst and largest mass shooting in our country's history. It is ludicrous to try to apply logic to something that is so outside the bounds of normal, acceptable behavior. We try nonetheless. But there is simply no logical explanation for what happened yesterday.  A child is born, snuggled in his mother's arms, grows up, and whether due to poor parenting, a tragically miswired brain, or the cumulative effect of a million small hurts and injustices, he struggles with enough mental health issues that his solution is to massacre 20 small children and their protectors. Insanity.

There are as many reactions and explanations as there are citizens of this country, but none of them matter right this minute. What matters are the 26 families who have had normalcy eliminated from their lives, who have lost the bright light of a child or the love and leadership of a parent, whose lives can never be the same again. What matters are the survivors, children and responders, whose lives will never be the same again.  The innocence of those children has been snuffed, their future Christmases tainted if not ruined, their sense of trust and safety blown to bits. The responders - God bless their unbelievably brave souls - will be haunted by those images in their brains forever.  Such unspeakable violence is hideous enough when it happens to adults, as it mostly does; but the idea of 20 sweet little souls who were caught completely off-guard in the place that was a haven for them, huddled with their friends and teachers, is simply nauseating and beyond comprehension. And still we bicker back and forth about what constitutes personal freedom. Personally, I think no one needs to own assault weapons, whether they have that right or not. Why would anyone want an assault weapon except to wreak carnage? Don't tell me you'll use it in self-defense - that would require carrying it cocked and ready 24/7. Also ludicrous.

We have to stop being so obsessed with violence, with weaponry, with misplaced anger before we utterly and completely destroy our society. When will we admit that mutual destruction is not the answer, that if one innocent life is lost in the name of gun ownership, it is one too many? When will we value our children, not to mention ourselves, enough to say that their safety from randomly used weapons is worth relinquishing one's "right" to own guns?

This needs to end. Stop. Right now.  Here, today. No posturing, debating, invoking the 2nd amendment, or any other stupidity. Get rid of the guns, now. And stop murdering our children.

"Where have all the graveyards gone, gone to flowers, everyone....when will they ever learn? 

When will they ever learn?"

"Is this the little girl I carried.....is this the little boy at play...."

This blogging thing is obviously addicting, because lately I've felt yearnings to get back to it after a couple months away.....and what a couple of months they've been.....

As of Friday, November 9th, I have a married son.  I am a mother-in-law, and Tim is a father-in-law.  This monumental evolution occurred at a civil ceremony at Kenosha County Courthouse in Wisconsin. The whole story behind it is long, complicated, and not easily understood by me, but as long as they're happy, that's really all I care about. I think.

The costs of the impending May 2013 ceremony were rapidly spiraling out of control, so Brian and I had a conversation to spell out what we could pay for, and what we expected them to cover.  That was fine, no problem.  But the next day, he sent me one of the most beautiful emails I've ever read, that said they just could not find a way to make those expenses work, and rather than have us go into additional debt after buying their house, they would simply go to the courthouse - they didn't need a fancy party, all they needed was each other.  I was elated to think that some of what we tried to teach our sons actually took.  Of course, I was disappointed - we've already talked about how much I LOVE weddings!  But I've had mine - as well as renewals - and so this was not about me.  We told them that it was a very mature decision, and we respected their wishes.  Eventually, they asked if they could still do the spring ceremony at church with a scaled back reception, and of course, we agreed. So the planning continued.

About three weeks later, I happened to ask if they'd set a date for the courthouse ceremony.......there was a LONG pregnant pause on the other end of the phone...."well, yeah, it's November 9th..."  Well, dear, were you planning on telling us?  So, is it just you & Liz and her mom? "Well, no, all her aunts are coming and a bunch of our friends....I'll make sure Liz sends you an invitation right away...:"  I then proceeded to cry for the next two days.  Even with a concerted effort, it would have been impossible to hurt me any more deeply.  Even if it WAS almost next to impossible for us to get there on such short notice.

Good, true friends convinced me to at least send Tim, who has years of unused vacation. He could stay with family, and at least it would be a family presence. If I stopped thinking about it, it was OK, I could live until spring. A week before he was to leave, I was having coffee with a work colleague I hadn't seen for awhile. When she asked about the status of the May wedding, I explained the situation.  She sat there, looking at me like I had three heads, and said, "Are you NUTS???? What airline is he on?" I told her Alaska.  She said, "I'm DROWNING in Alaska miles - you're going".  And with that, she whipped out her cell phone, and booked me a ticket outward bound with Tim, returning a day earlier so I, with no vacation, could get back to work.  This unbelievable gesture of grace and generosity, coupled with being offered a new job (whole other story), had people telling me I should go buy a lottery ticket.

The plan was to keep me a secret, if for no other reason than to see his reaction.  On a strangely warm, windy Friday morning, we arrived at the courthouse and I stood behind a doorway near the courtroom they'd been assigned.  Brian arrived, saw his dad and uncles, and after they said their hellos, I popped out.  Brian took one look at me, and said "Jeanne was RIGHT!" His mother-in-law, being the good mother that she is, kept telling him that it was likely I'd show up, that I'd never be able to stay away.  That was probably the best, and longest, hug we ever exchanged.

Enter the courtroom, with a sweet, doddering old judge whose every step had me thinking he'd keel over..."Who's got the license?", he asked.  Deafening silence - for a second, I thought Liz would dissolve in tears. Jeanne piped up with "Your Honor, they were told that it would be here waiting for them, that they could not take it with them...."  At which point there was a flurry of activity and phone calls from the clerk (try scaring up anyone in a Wisconsin courthouse at 11:30 on a sunny Friday during hunting season) until said license was unearthed by another clerk, who received a rousing round of applause.

As Brian and Liz stood in the front of the courtroom facing family and friends, the look on each of their faces was exactly what I wanted it to be - pure and total adoration and love. Brian did nothing but gaze at her; Liz couldn't look at him for long, because she was in danger of crying. When the important words came - "I now pronounce you..." - the joy and relief on their faces was worth every second spent raising this kid - this is what it was for.

Everyone trooped to a nearby Irish pub for lunch and celebratory beverages - a perfect end to an interesting, unique occasion that serendipity sent me to attend.