Friday, October 16, 2009

The Breaks, the Aches, the Promise and the Positive

Yesterday was a day for Pepto. My body could not make up its mind. I had butterflies, acid reflux and my stomach teetered between throwing up and diarrhea. Things that will effect the future, things that shaped my past and some that are just for the day all swirled into one gigantic gastro-intestinal upsetting day.

You want to know why it was not terrible? Want to know why I am not screaming "WHY ME???". God is handling all of it. I am comforted by His promises and plan.

This is a strange attitude for me. I was raised to be a "fixer". There had to be a solution, some thing I could do and someone/thing to blame. Immediate and swift action must be taken to resolve the problem. I think I stopped seeing this as a problem and more as an "event". It is just happening.

My parents house is officially under contract. They remodeled the house that was given to them by a dear neighbor that had past away in November of 1995. This is the house that since late 2002 has served as a haven for grandchildren to run and play. A place for holidays, exactly the way my Mom had envisioned them.
It was the first place Megan celebrated a holiday once she was released from the NICU.
It was the location for Cassie and Natalie's 1st Birthday parties.
Where the kids had Nana and PopPop sleepovers.
Where they pulled the cushions off the couch, the towels off the stove and the magnets off the fridge.
We took McDonald's drive thru orders at the kitchen window for the "hungry" kids on the deck.
The doorbell was rung a billion times. One of those times was because Ginger and I were playing "Pizza Man" with Samuel and we did not notice that he had gone out again and he could not get back in. *Did I mention that it was February and he had no shoes on?*

I don't think we ever realized that we would need to change our position about our memories. Switch the way we feel about those times and that house. It was the house where that all physically took place. But our family was the real heart of it. As much as that house was filled with joy and excitement, it was also full of more.

It was full of body language and stares.
Where we closely controlled volume and subject matter.
Where we whispered when Dad left the room.
It was a place of caution and repression.
The freedom that the children had, was not that at all.
It was the place that Dad disappeared from last Christmas Eve.
It was the place where the Elephant in the room that everyone was ignoring sat right down on the couch and said "HELLO! You have to talk about me now!"

So now, here we are. The elephant is out, everyone knows. We acknowledge that we let the pachyderm push and pull us and the kids were watching. They paid attention. They knew, and we let them sit confused and lost. Now its over - at least in that way.
The focus turns to Mom and Dad and where they will physically go from here. Some where in there we have to concern ourselves with how we will set up this new form of our family. That cannot be done right now - I know I can't figure it out now. This is where the new found patience and peace comes in - I can't plan this.

Whatever it looks like, the family that created the joy and excitement is still there. The physical location does not matter. We can make memories in a Walmart parking lot and that does not make them any less special because they were not in that house.

The promise I have from God is that we are saving the children from the hurt. Saving them from the confusion and doubt. It goes along with what God wants our children to know. They are loved - unconditionally. Whether they are loud, have a temper, a smart mouth, think poop is funny, they can be themselves. This is where they should feel accepted. There are too many people and places in life that are going to tell them they are wrong.

It starts now. Why? Because by the time Cara goes shopping for her wedding dress and chooses off white or something different, we will all be de-programmed and wont even think about if PopPop will approve. That is the positive.


  1. I am sobbing right now.
    You worded this so well. I am so proud of you.
    Thank you for putting my feelings into words and for helping me to remember that we will be ok.
    I have the best sisters in the world.

  2. I needed to do this because I needed to admit that there is a loss that comes with the physcial house being sold. My mind wanted to sheild my heart. But my heart and mind both need to feel this and work through - not around. I keep looking to the future, and that there will be a time when it does not even cross our mind. I will always remember the confidence, and strength that God is giving me. I love you. We will be OK and it will be so much better than we ever imagined.

  3. Oh D, I am fighting my tears because the kids are right here. You have captured it all and have given us all the gift of hope. We are so blessed to have each other and it will be okay. God brought us through the turmoil without much damage. He has given us a strength we never knew we had. We just have to love our ways through it and be supportive and understanding and cut each other some slack. We have to make new, like you said. We can do this if we work together being honest and kind. This is so hard for us all and I never imagined all of the feelings and thoughts that would swirl when this finally happened. I love my strong amazing sisters! We have had some difficult lessons and hard times but I would not change them for anything because God has used all of that to make us stronger and more committed to Him and each other. The only thing I wish is that some how Dad would know that we love him very much. I hate that he thinks other wise...So, for the record! I love you Dad and always will. I love you so much that I am letting you go. Knowing that you are safer and loved more in God's hands. I pray that you find happiness and that one day we will be together and better.

  4. (((HUGS))) to everyone. I can't even imagine how difficult this is for you all. Just know that if you need anything at all, you know where to find me.

  5. Oh Angie... that last part...

    Thank you Jen. Thank you Facebook too for letting us all be involved in each others daily lives.

  6. I love you and am so very proud of you.

  7. "The only thing I wish is that some how Dad would know that we love him very much. I hate that he thinks other wise...So, for the record! I love you Dad and always will. I love you so much that I am letting you go. Knowing that you are safer and loved more in God's hands. I pray that you find happiness and that one day we will be together and better."

    Again, I am sobbing. But Ang, that is so well said and true. I do wish Dad understood that he is loved.

    Jen, thank you! That means so much to me!