OH WOW OH WOW OH WOW

OH WOW.

B and I have been talking about a family vacation in this upcoming year. It's the last summer the girl will be home for good (she graduates in 2010), and we haven't had a vacation since 2003. I asked him to finally decide where he'd like to go.

Here is where he picked:

The Long Beach peninsula: Oysters. Clams. CRABS. Beaches. Cranberry bogs. Sand. Kites. Shells. And two lighthouses.

I am in heaven. I clicked on the visitor's page, and there's a little media player clip of the surf. It's playing in my head right now. How I miss the ocean!

Heaven.... I'm in heaven....

Half empty or half full?

You know, I've come to the realization finally that I've spent a large portion of my life in the company of 'discouragers'. You know the type: that glass is always half empty. If you said the sky was blue, they'd say you were crazy: EVERYONE knows the sky is pink! If you allowed that maybe sometimes the sky was pink, they'd scoff and say that was just to be expected - only someone like YOU would insist on taking a perfectly blue sky and trying to convince everyone else it was all your way. I've struggled with these people and how to please them (and God only knows there is no pleasing them) all of my life, and been drug down, exhausted and discouraged. I finally found the perfect term for these individuals in some self-help book somewhere: emotional vampires.

These people are so sunken into their own mire and their own way of thinking that everything you do is automatically wrong. It doesn't matter what you choose to tell them. You could point out that they'd made the same choices. You could tell them that everyone has their own opinion and you have a right to your own. You could have all the scientific data in the world to back up your position. You could justify your choices and your life six ways to Sunday, and it's all going to come back down to one black-and-white concept: that glass is only ever going to be half full. And that glass is only half full because some damn person came along and took their glass and STOLE it from them, by God.

These people, who can't fix their own lives, will sure enough try to convince you that they can fix yours. If only they could fix yours, they might feel better. But since they can't, the next best thing is to make you feel worse, so they can feel good in comparison. You will exhaust yourself trying to please them, all the while you jump through their endless series of hoops feeling like you are betraying your own self and your values. You will feel like if only you could convince them that they were wrong, that things would be all right. But it's not possible. They will never approve.

Sometimes these people are your friends (or frenemies. How I love that word!) Sometimes they're your family (in which case you don't have much of a choice in the matter). Sometimes they're your coworkers.

Or maybe complete strangers.

In this day and age, we interact with complete strangers all the time online, the internet and its little communities both creating an artificial intimacy like a little closed room, and underscoring just how far apart we all are in the universe. These little online communities are a great thing. When they work well, the work really well. They're a place for support and information, someplace you can go and vent without having to show your face the next day to be embarrassed. ("Hey Bob - how's that ED going? And by the way - see you at the staff meeting!") But frequently, that anonymity can lead to hurtfulness. I've been on many boards where gently differing opinions have degenerated into the kind of venom that would lead to physical violence if it were happening face to face.

But then, we don't DO that face to face.

Why do we reserve our worst selves for this place? Is that how we want to be eternally memorialized in print? If the internet is forever, is that the stamp we want to give the world? ("Hi, I'm Sally, beloved mother of two, Rotary president, church secretary, den mother and the woman who just called another poster a @#$%*& *#$%$*$%$ for suggesting I use a quarter cup of sugar in my recipe rather than a half!")

Wow.

I know this is kind of a rant. And it's a conglomeration of a whole lot of events that have preceded it, not just one single thing. But I frequent a bulletin board that I've not always felt very welcome at. I've gotten a whole lot of really good and valuable information, and been privy to a whole lot of heartache, tragedy, and human support and kindness. The posters on the board for the most part are so good to one another, and so helpful. But I posted a query about a year ago, before B and I got serious about one another, looking for information about beginning a relationship with a partner with PD. I was hoping for some good suggestions and advice about how to approach this new journey, which I was so eager to begin. And I have to say I got pretty roundly criticized.

Some went so far as to say that I was crazy - that they would never have chosen to love someone if they'd known they would have PD. That I was naive and I would never be able to handle all the physical caregiving that was right around the bend. That I was just in 'puppy love', and I should essentially just 'grow up'. Of all of the avalanche of negativity, I got three notes of encouragement: one from a woman who still believed in love, no matter what. One from a patient, who was appalled at the concept that people out there would deem him 'damaged goods'. And one, thank heavens, from another woman who is further along in the same journey I've undertaken.

Now, I know that maybe that wasn't the best place to ask for advice. I've made all the little excuses in my mind for the group members that responded, thinking "Oh, well.... they've been caregivers longer. They're tired. They're burned out. They can't remember when it was good." And I just let it go. I lurked for a long time on that board, still reading, still taking in information. And I posted a couple of comments and questions over the course of the year and realized that I was essentially getting the 'virtual cold shoulder'. I asked myself 'what is wrong with me that no one wants to interact with me??' I felt hurt for a long time.

And then, earlier this month, I watched it from the outside. Another newbie to the group made a post, almost exactly like mine from a year ago. She's in love with a man with PD, looking for information, because she wants to cleave her life to his. She wants to know everything, because it's part of who he is, and she's looking to the group to tell her how she can help him.. how they can make this life work, despite the small challenges. All she was asking for was hope. I knew they would excoriate her. I knew how it would feel for her. By the time they'd all weighed in, my letter of encouragement was lost in the melee, and she'd posted a sad little postscript, as I had a year ago - the voices of discouragement succeeded in making her question her own choices.

And I've finally figured it out. It isn't me, per se, nor her. It's that we belong to that other group, as did the other three posters that responded to me. We're 'encouragers'. Our glasses are half full. You see, we're threatening to the burned out people, the negative ones. They don't want to change. It's painful to contemplate change... to reach out for hope. It's so much easier to sink into the quiet dark places of resentful acceptance, and lash out when they're challenged. They want us down there too - to see us filled with hope reminds them that they're empty. Perhaps they were on the other side once.

As for me - I refuse to give in. I logged in to the board today and found a wonderful letter on that thread, from my friend who is traversing the same road. She and her husband are fiercely waving the banner of hope, clinging to life and eating it with gusto. They haven't given in, and neither will we. We don't care what life throws at us... we're going to weather it together, because that is what love is all about. B could have thrown me away a long time ago. I'm plenty 'broken' my own self. But instead, he's brought me some glue and between us we're figuring out where all the pieces go back together. And like the china hutch, between the two sets of our hands, we're going to make something beautiful.

That glass is half full, and boy... it's been mighty tasty. When we finish this cup I think we'll pour ourselves another.

Cheers!

Taking the lickings and keeping on ticking

THE older I get, the more I learn. But I have to unlearn first.

I fussed last night about having to go out to B's brother's house for a family get together. We had a long conversation about how hard it was for me to want to leave the house and go visiting, since I don't find it pleasurable. But you know, every time I kick my feet and plant myself, God seems to tell me how wrong I am.

To make a long story short, we went, we had prime rib, there was lots of people. I laughed at the robotic dinosaur toy, joked with the adults, played with the little kids and the dog, had great conversation, dandled babies, ate wonderful food, and had a great time. Wow. If home hadn't been calling (lonely kids who didn't want to go with us but didn't want us gone long, either), I could've stayed a couple more hours. Is THIS what family feels like?

"They like me, they really like me!" LOL

___________________________________________

B is feeling okay. He claims that he's feeling better, but I've caught him in the ibuprofen, with his hands rubbing at the bottom of his ribs in back. His kidneys still hurt. We need to find out what this is soon. If they can't figure it out here, we'll have to go to Seattle to Virginia Mason.

It's snowing this morning, great big hanks of flakeage the size of your thumb, huge and wet. At least its an improvement over the freezing rain that we chipped off the car this morning. That gives us about a foot of snow all told. It's going to melt soon and flood all the catch basins that are frozen over. The plow guys are on the 2 way radio hot and heavy this morning, trying to keep up. It's going to get interesting.

______________________________________________

My 40th birthday is Wednesday. In our office, we get the choice of taking one of two half-days off: either Christmas Eve, or New Year's Eve. B and I worked Christmas Eve and are taking Wednesday afternoon off as our 'gimme' day. That way I get half a day to play at home on my birthday. We don't really party, either one of us, but we'll probably settle in with some Little Cheesy Smokies and a case of beer. If either of us sees the ball drop it'll be a miracle. LOL Some things just get less important as you get older. For me, I'd take cuddling in my nice warm bed with B over sitting up watching everyone else party on TV any day.

The daughter has been beside herself: she's absolutely convinced that she's going to 'get me good'. She has all the black balloons and streamers planned. I told her I was going to post guard so she couldn't come in and decorate my office! Ah well....at least there may be cake! I told her I liked chocolate. ;-)

Something like THIS would be okay.

But you know what? I already have all the gifts I need. I told B he wasn't to buy me a thing. All I want... all I need... is what I have. My family. My B. This life.

I could not ask for more.

Not so much about things

Wow..

I hope everyone had such a wonderful Christmas as we have. This year was just incredibly blessed. I'm overwhelmed...

It wasn't the things, though we finally had a decent haul under the tree, due to some good luck. The kids were very satisfied with what they received: new jackets, some Lush bath stuff and a couple of the "Twilight" books for the daughter, "Perfect Pushups" and a seat massager for the boy, plus the Xbox system to replace their stolen one as our family gift. B got a table saw and a brad nailer, and I got some of the best gifts EVER: a handful of new paintbrushes, a french press from Starbucks, and A NEW WACOM INTUOS 3 GRAPHIC TABLET!!!!!!!!!! Wa HOOO!!

For the uninitiated, this means that rather than trying to draw and do digital detail work by using a big and clunky mouse, I can now use the digitizing tablet to paint and draw. The pen has incredible control. I've been playing with it a little bit, in between things. It has been number one on my wish list for several years, and B is a hero. I never expected such a wonderful gift. The thought that went into the choice of my gifts is illuminative... this man is so supportive of my little 'hobbies'. "Go... paint... play" he told me last night.

So we got some great things, and had a wonderful day. We got up early, just B and I, and spent it lazy after we stuffed stockings and prepped the area, savoring our coffee and the paper before we woke anyone up. The grand event was cool, as Christmas morning always is, and since we were all sleepy we went back to nap for a couple of hours. We had a little glitch when we got up - the kids wanted to go out to Grandma's, and B wasn't in the mood for visiting, so he decided to stay home and prepare the rib roast while we did our thing. This, mind you, is a HUGE change in my kids. I've always had to pry them out of the house to go to Grandma's.

You know, I would have just as soon stayed home as well. I have to admit that I was loath to leave my new toys just to venture out into a foot of snow to go visiting, particularly since we'll be seeing them again on Saturday for the 'official' Christmas dinner, when my brother and his fiance can make it down from their city. And I haven't driven our new car very much in the winter conditions, so it makes me a little bit nervous. But once we got there, I was so glad we did. Mom and Dad were glad to see us, welcoming us with cheese and crackers and cookies and hot tea.

I have to stop here to note that my relationship with the rest of my family has been rocky over the years. Seldom have they approved of anything I've done, and it's been a strained relationship at best. I'm afraid that it's leaked into my kids' relationship with their grandparents as well; whether that comes from the kids being tainted by my own black sheep status, or whether they've sensed my reluctance to interact with the larger family group and picked up on it, I don't know. Whatever the reason, since B has been with us I have been seeing some major changes in both my kids and my parents. I'm somewhat bewildered by it, and don't quite know what to make of it all.

Anyway, we had a great time out there. They boys all trooped out to the garage for awhile to go see Grandpa's project car, which had been freshly painted (purple!), and my daughter and mom and I sat inside and chatted in the kitchen. Mom and I talked for a long time about church, and how she's found a new home at the one she goes to, and how happy it's made her. Sitting there talking about God made me want to cry. It's one of the few sticking points between B and I yet.

I'm not a rabid churchgoer, but I had a church that I went to once upon a time, back when I was married to an abuser and hurting and searching for a place where I could feel whole and safe again. That was the most amazing feeling - to walk into a building and sit down and feel safe, to feel as if I'd come home. I remember crying through many sermons, sitting there in the very back pew with my Goodwill clothes and my baby, trying to hide from the world. Somehow when I went on those occasions, that man up in front of the big cross was always talking directly to me. How he knew just exactly what to say, just what was happening in my life, right at that exact moment, I never knew, other than to ascribe it to God. I've gone to a couple of other churches to try them out on the advice of friends, but never felt that feeling anywhere else.

B came from a Mormon family that was excommunicated and wanted nothing more to do with any other sort of God, so faith had no place in his life. And I think he really believes that God has sent the PD to punish him. Deep down, there's a hurt and an anger at being so betrayed by God. So he drifts, bearing all of his burdens on himself alone. They're all his problems alone, and all he can do is deal with them. He doesn't mind my having my own beliefs, but he doesn't share them. And in a way, that hurts the most of all. Will I lose him forever when I lose him to this world? Maybe it wouldn't resonate so much if the disease weren't there, reminding me daily that someday we'll be apart, maybe because we believe different things and he won't be able to follow, maybe because I'm the one who is wrong and there IS no afterlife. And of all the things in the world that I fear, it's losing him.

Mom and I sat and talked for a while about it, and I confessed some of those thoughts and fears, and I was shocked to find how fragile I felt about it all. I was shocked at the feeling that I wanted my Mom, after all these years; wanted her to tell me it was all going to be okay. Big strong me, who never needed anybody.

And then we all opened our gifts, and I was undone all over again.

I feel like this past year for a large part has been about deconstructing me. Taking away the hard edges and replacing them with soft, tearing down the protective walls I've built for so long, leaving me to face all of the things I've feared and vanquish them. Taking away the false beliefs... the destructive self-talk; changing that record. I've found a peace and a joy that hadn't ever been there before.

I brought the gift my parents gave me home to share with B. The gift cards were nice, but unremarkable. He opened and read the card, which was the real gift. In my mother's handwriting, she told us to take the gift cards and get out for an 'adult night' to see a movie and have dinner at the city's nicest restaurant. She told B how much they had come to love and care for him, and that they had seen our little family grow and blossom since he'd come there to unlock it. And she said to me how proud she was of the woman I'd become.

My B, my treasure, my precious man, took me in his arms and held me. "I'm leaking again" I apologised.

"Do you feel like you have your mom back?" he whispered in my hair, holding me tight. And then I knew I was leaking.

I'm not sure how or where I'll take my next footfall on this path. The terrain is so unfamiliar and all the things I've done before don't work here. This is all new. My whole life is new. All of the relationships in my life have changed. There is only one thing I know: I want to push through the curtain and see what's on the other side.

I am so overwhelmed - we are so blessed.

Song of Solomon

I can't type much today. My brain feels like it's hooked up to a car battery, on overload. I'm so full... so full.

B's still feeling punky. After he got home from shopping, he retreated out into the garage again, and I was left to rattle round the house like a lonely ball bearing in a big old boxcar. The kids were occupied, the dogs were asleep, I didn't feel like writing, and there was no one online to talk to. I went out to make dinner and he still didn't emerge, even as I rattled in the kitchen on the other side of the door. Thinking he was perhaps feeling worse, I popped a head through the door. No, just buried in his sudoku, his beautiful brow creased in concentration. God, the little hairs at the nape of his neck are grown longer now, softly curling. They undo me.

I just stood looking at him until he looked up, concern coloring those beautiful eyes, the color of a summer sky. Bloodshot today again, my 'mother's mind' spoke up; he's running a fever again. We take his temp and I am still at a loss for words. "What, honey?" he asks.

"I'm lonely." I don't mean to say it but it slips out.

He comes to me and lies his head on my shoulder. I'm still standing on the step, so his head falls so perfectly into place, there in that soft place on the crest of my chest. I breathe him, his soft curls brushing the cheek I lay against his crown. "I'm so sorry you don't feel good again." I whisper. We stay like that for a long time.

_____________________________________________________

Later it's time for another Vicodin. The pain is getting worse. I'm on the phone, solidifying family Christmas plans when my cell phone alerts a text message from the other room. "I'm lonely." When I take him his pill and some comfort I see that he's pinched around the eyes. I know he's off for bed soon.

I turn the mattress pad on so it will be warm when he gets in and go out to check my email one last time. Ah, someone familiar! His daughter, so far away, has been on the bulletin board, leaving a lonely message of frozen pipes and a bad day, seeking comfort. I take the laptop out to show him where he stands taking one last cigarette. He smiles after he reads it and pulls out his cell to call her. He looks a little perkier; the call and the Vicodin flowing through his veins to soothe his soul.

I post her a funny little message of encouragement, thinking about how lonely and frightening it must be to be out there in the big old world so many states away with no one but your boyfriend to call when the pipes freeze and you are sick and in pain and snowed in and helpless. I can offer only my humor and what flows through these pixels across all those state lines; me: a relative stranger, a strange relative.... but someone who understands. I can only stretch out my hand. It's so new for all of us. He treasures her; I want to be her friend.

______________________________________________________

He comes to bed smiling. "You made her giggle," he says as I get ready for bed.

I grin back. "I'm so glad."

With a groan he pulls me close, holds me tight, face buried like a child. "I love you so much." His voice is muffled. And it is one of those nights, one of those times when being close to him is like being an iron man next to an electromagnet. We cannot pull away, not for all the world. There is nothing but each other, nothing but this ocean of us that we sink into. An amnion of peace.

"This is our safe place," he repeats my mantra from the Hospital Day, when we'd sunk into a huddled embrace, waiting for some word from above. It will become our phrase; it hangs like a sugarplum between us, so right. "This is our safe place."

______________________________________________________

We awake as we slept, entwined; two halves of eternity. I can feel his skin hot on mine as soon as I wake. It will be time for another doctor today. Will we finally get answers?

Today, I am full. I had no idea there was such a thing as this love, this thing that still simmers beneath the surface of illness and chores and work and kids and all of the inconsequential things that mark the daily progress of life. I am gravid with it, all of the time. And my heart sings....

Comfort and Joy

An open letter to B:

You left early today, right after lunch. Mexican food; I can still taste it on my tongue. This building seems like it contains less oxygen when you are gone. I struggle to concentrate in this wizened air.

You're with the boy, off to do your Christmas shopping. I wonder how you're doing, you who hate the whole shopping-thing, on this one of the few days left till the big day. I imagine you out there fighting the throngs of fellow procrastinators, my hero in grey. You're both out there on my behalf, and the thought of it is touching.

You've been so sick for the last week and a half. I wonder if you know how much it tears at my heart, to see you feel so punky. The night I spent on the couch nearly killed us. The next night I knew how little you slept; I laid awake most of those hours listening to you breathe, feeling the heat come off your body there next to mine.

And then we thought we had it licked. You felt better. We went in for that routine blood test only to have them get all upset. I knew from the doctor's face that they were sending us right over to the hospital. I waited in the radiology waiting room while you had your CT scan, my brand new book upside down forgotten on the floor. Were you all right? Was God even listening? And then when the on-call doctor came in on his day off to see you, I knew they wanted to keep you. Frantic while you talked to him I must have paced a hole in that waiting room floor. When he gave us the choice whether to have you admitted for the night or to come back for more tests in the morning, I knew what you would choose. Oh, you were coming home with me!

That night you slept in my arms as I breathed you. And over and over again the movie played in my head: how there was hurt, and pain, and fear, and then there was nothing... and then, by some miracle, there was you. And in this short year I can barely remember a time when there was no you. My joy, my treasure, my beloved, my B.

We went back for the lab tests the next morning after a long and leisurely breakfast, just the two of us, with the snow and the Sunday paper, over coffee. We went back prepared for the news, that the white count would still be dangerously high, that they didn't know why you were ill, that they were admitting you to the hospital.

And miracle of miracles: the lab results were back to normal! The doctors baffled, but pleased. Praise the Lord...

Today you're out doing the things you meant to do two weeks ago, and I'm so very thankful that you feel well enough to do them. Not because of the task, but because of YOU. Because you were my gift last Christmas, my gift this Christmas, and for every year to come. I want nothing else but you, B. You are my comfort and my joy.

How great and wonderful is this life!

May everyone's lives be blessed, this Christmas season, and all year round.

Cuddled in love

Awwww.

I'm back at work today, Thank God. Couldn't take staying home any longer. Three things make me happy today:

1. My stepdaughter got her Christmas package! Yay! (But her Lush package won't get there till after Christmas, darnit. Silly weather, anyway!)

2. I got my Performance Review, and it was AWESOME. My boss said I was doing a great job and to keep it up. The only thing I could improve on would be to be out sick less often (including being out because of the kids.) I have to agree; this year just seems to have been a terrible one as far as one crisis after another. Let's hope that 2009 is better! My boss is going to be leaving the organization and his replacement will be moving up from the next position down, so change is in the air. I got a new timesheet blank today with my new department on it. I am officially my own department now. My boss is going to tell the new boss that he should just leave me to run wide open - that I know what needs to be done and he can count on me to do it without having to babysit me. That's big praise.

3. I got the letter back from the state regulatory department that oversees my department's activities. I'd gotten the call from their office that they had to write us up due to an oversight in making a phone call in a timely manner during a recent incident that happened. I had, obviously, been dreading it. Instead of being a violation, the letter actually was a commendation for our department and the organization in general in handling the incident, for the most part. It did tell us that we needed a more cohesive plan next time, but in the grand scheme of things, I was well pleased by the result. This is my department, and I am proud of it.

Oh... and I was just sitting here thinking of how blessed I am when B came in from his break where he'd been having a cigarette, and wrapped his big fuzzy scarf round my neck. Mmmmm... it smells like him. It was made by his daughter, with her talented fingers. I feel so loved.

And we're both feeling better today, praise the Lord. My tummy muscles ache, but at least eating isn't such a risky proposition. Now if we can keep B's potassium levels up, we'll be golden.

Back to work. Much to do. Sounds like the winds of change are blowing here at work, so I need to keep on top. Spreadin' my sails wide......

Good mornings

GOOD morning, world!

I heard a funny little song on the radio this morning as we listened like hawks to see if school was going to be closed for a snow day (actually a wind-chill day.... it's -20 here today with the wind chill). I've been sitting here searching for it but I can't find it. Shame.. I would have liked to share it.

Anyhow... I'm sorry I've been gone so long. Things have been just sweeping along these days between Thanksgiving and Christmas, as they so often do. And there's been our share of ups and downs. We had a semi-major spill event here at work that involved a report to the state agency and a whole lot of legwork on my part for the better part of last week. My uncle passed away unexpectedly during that same time, and that was somewhat of a shock. And B got sick on Thursday evening and is still feeling crummy. We thought it was a garden variety bug, or maybe somebody's buffet item from the office Christmas party that had sat out on the counter maybe a little too long, but on Saturday we went to the hospital because he'd gotten so dehydrated and weak. I'm glad to report that he's feeling better, but he still can't eat much, and it's been hard.

While he was up there in the ER, he (unfortunately) got the student nurse, who received the duty of starting his IV. I watched her fish around in there for what seemed like an hour, pushing it in, pulling it out, rolling it around, while he laid there with his eyes closed. All the while she was talking to herself under her breath. "Oops... maybe this way. Nope, not there. A little more maybe..." I finally turned my head because it was nauseating me. Finally she got it in, but couldn't get any blood back. Despite that, she went through the whole process of taping it down and setting it up like it was a perfect job. I was pretty certain it wasn't it the vein. When she started the drip she was surprised to see that it wasn't moving. "It might work better if you took the tourniquet off" he said between his teeth. She took it off and disappeared. I think we ruined her whole day. I was glad he said something because I was just about to the point where my patience with someone who was obviously still learning was overcome by the fact that she was causing him pain. Ugggg. Another nurse came in afterward and fixed it, but it still put more of a damper on the experience than was already there.

B was different this time. He was miserable, and I think that its dawning on him that sometimes even when you're miserable and no one can do anything about it, the simplicity of having someone who cares about you be there with you is a good thing. He was there for four to five hours while they gave him several liters of fluid, and although they gave him something for the pain so he could sleep, each time I got up to stretch my legs he awoke, wondering where I was.

The first night he was sick he didn't want me to catch the bug, so I slept in my daughter's room (while she was gone) at his request. I was surprised at how hard it was on both of us. While it was nice to sleep with my dogs again (the whippet curled up behind my knees as I slept on my side, and the weenie - bless her funny little soul - nosed her way up between my forearms, curled up on HER side, and laid her head on the pillow next to mine! lol B would have had a fit.), I missed my husband beside me. The next night, I told him I didn't care about his germs, and we spent a restless night since he was up and down, but he had a hand or a foot on my body at all times, even when we slept. I rolled over once and felt him reach out in his sleep, his searching hand finding my shoulder. That he claims to be (and is, to be true) a big, strong independent man is in no way diminished by the fact that we as human beings need each other. These are small lessons, but in so many ways so much more profound. We sleep so much better when we are together, and we each draw strength from one another.

So, on to more exciting subjects! Christmas is coming, and the tree is getting ridiculously crowded. I made many of our gifts this year, and began shopping earlier for others, so it looks like we have a whole lot. I think everyone will be happy. :-) B, the original Grinch, even burned me a CD with 72 minutes worth of Mannheim Steamroller Christmas music, so I could have my beloved music with me wherever I go.

***LOL*** Status Update ***
He's dug out his "Bah, humbug" button and pinned it on his shirt. He says if he hears ONE MORE RENDITION of Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer downstairs he's gonna go postal. That's my baby.

And on that note, I have several things I need to get done, so I'll wind down for now. All is well in Washington. We'll be back soon.

Narcissus

December 13: ONE YEAR!!! Happy Anniversary, baby!

Beautiful day

OKAY, after that last post filled with angst (jeez, I'm beginning to sound like one of my teenagers!) we're back in the land of reality. But seriously, folks... sometimes I don't know what part of what B comes out with is B, and what is the PD. This last bit seems like it was the product of him being frustrated with me, and another one of those depressive episodes that he slides into from time to time. I just need to learn how to recognise them, I guess, and then I won't be so hypersensitive. When we revisited the issues du jour the next day (after we were both feelign better), the conversation sounded much more sane.

Some of this comes from my extreme fatigue. I worked all of last weekend, plus Tuesday, which everyone else got off as a holiday, painting Christmas windows down at the museum. I think they came out okay, if I do say so myself. They seem happy with them at the museum, at any rate. And thank heavens they're done. There were two realistic portraits, plus one HUGE set of window borders. All in all, about 16 hours worth of work. So, like the slacker I am, I took today off to compensate.

Of course, it was a great idea anyhow, since B and I went out of town last night to go to a concert and didn't get back until late. I had to talk him into buying those tickets, and it was the greatest thing we've ever done. Long ago when we were talking about all the things we regretted in our past lives I asked him to tell me what he wished he'd done instead. One of his biggest regrets was that despite the fact that he LOVES music, he's gone to very few concerts. He's had the opportunity and the desire, but each time a good one came up, his ex told him she'd spent the money elsewhere (and we won't even go INTO that subject). And as she wasn't interested in going to the events with him, it was never a priority to save out some money for that sort of thing. So over the course of the years he's missed out on a lot of things he would have loved to see.

About a month ago he was listening to NPR out in his 'man-cave' and came in mildly excited (with B that's about as much as you can ask for!). Chris Botti was coming to one of our nearby cities, and tickets were on sale. We got online and found them, sure enough. The concert was being held in a converted ice arena, and there were several levels of tickets, ranging from the ones way in the back in the nosebleed seats, for $40, to the ones on the floor up front for $65. He looked at me with such a hopeful-puppy look that I just melted. Of course we were getting tickets!

"Aw, go ahead and get the good ones!" I said, "Have you ever sat up front?" I'm ahead of him in this game; my ex was a big concertgoer, so I do have several fond memories that I choose to keep from those years. I also know the good places to sit.

"They're more expensive." he said doubtfully, glancing at me as if I was going to put the kibosh on it.

"So what?" I pointed to the date, and then slid around behind him to give him a hug. "Happy anniversary." I whispered in his ear.


So, last night after work we got dressed up, fed the kids, and went off to the concert. It was FANTASTIC. If you don't know Chris Botti, go here. The whole show was wonderful. He's not only a great musician, but they put on a really good show. Chris is a jazz trumpeter, and while that sounds really boring, it's actually great music. While it was hard for B to sit for the two hours that the show lasted, we had a wonderful time. We came home with Chris' new album, and just really felt renewed by our evening out.

On the drive home, I was bubbling over with energy, as I always am after a show. "Ooooh, oooh, I liked X, Y and Z!" I exclaimed. "What did you like the best?"

Not missing a beat, he said "Going with you."

Say it with me now... "Aaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwww..."

It was so nice to spend those few hours in the car, talking about work and kids and hopes and dreams and just the scenery around us, laughing and chatting. We get that so seldom. And then at the concert the seat next to me was taken by a rather large lady who spilled over into my chair, so I spent the two hours sitting sideways towards B. It seemed like the most natural position was to put my arm around the back of his chair and snuggle into him. And lo and behold.. his hand came sneaking over from its position on his lap (when it wasn't clapping for the music) to slip into mine. I was in heaven. Good music, wonderful man, great time.

And when we got home, we walked into the house to find everyone asleep, the dishes done, the counters cleaned, the garbage taken out, the floors vacuumed, the entryway straightened, the coffee put on for morning, and two clean towels laid out in the bathroom for us to use. WOW. I woke the sleeping child on the couch from beneath her blanket of dogs and thanked her with a kiss.

And today we slept in, and we're lazing around like it's a Sunday, with nothing but an appointment later in the day and a trip to Lowe's on the horizon. It's a beautiful day.

Chrysanthemum

November 13: 11 Months

I lost my place in the book

THIS morning I feel like I've lost my place in life, as if my bookmarker has slipped out and I can't remember what page I was on. The only thing to do is to look for the crease, and page back and back until something looks familiar.

I wanted to make this entry about today's dare, but to be honest I haven't even read it yet. I've been sidetracked for several days being overwhelmed with the window painting project.

God. I am so tired of projects.

I want to tell everyone to go away; that I'm tapped out. But I've made promises, and I have to keep them. And even now they're disappointed that I don't work fasterfasterfaster. I am exhausted, and it shows in everything I do. For the last two weeks I've fallen asleep earlier than B even; half the time if I haven't had a coffee late in the day he comes in from the garage to find me slumped over in a chair, out cold. I feel like we are two ships passing in the night. I am gone, and when I'm not, he's out in the garage. It's really been bothering me.

We had the mother of all arguments last night, and I'm still smarting this morning, brushing my teeth with Colgate and tears. If anyone asks, I tell them I've finally caught the cold my daughter brought home. (Hey, it could be true.) The reality of it is that I'm ashamed of some of the things I said last night, ashamed of the fact that by the end of the argument he shuffled like an old man down the hallway to have one last smoke before he collapsed in to bed, completely beaten. I couldn't have done a better job of it had I taken him out back and worked him over with a baseball bat. But there were things that needed to be said, needed to be hashed out. How do you argue with someone when you know that you're hurting them physically by causing them stress? Do I just stuff everything that needs to be said, in fear of upsetting him? It's what I've been doing. But if we argue, he's the one that goes to bed ill and I'm the one left up pacing the living room, feeling like I've just deliberately run over someone's Grandma in the parking lot. How do other PD couples reconcile this?

The argument began, as arguments do, on one subject, and segued into something far further below the surface. The substance of our existence together will always be colored by B's PD. It's a fact, if a discouraging one. Still, it's just a fact. But it means that when we talk about things like his retirement and his disability, etc. that I begin to think about my own. I asked him this time how long he wanted me to work. I meant, of course, after things start to get bad. He said that he expected me to quit work when I retired, at 65. Well, folks.. .given that he's got 13 years on me, that would mean that he would be experiencing significant impairment (or so we predict, if one can do that) for several years before then. At 78, one can expect impairment from sheer age, much less the PD.

"But what happens when you get to the point when you'll need care?"

"My L&I settlement provides for a home health care aide." He stood there with his arms folded. I got up to move towards him and he stepped back.

I'm sorry, but that hurt. I tried to joke it off, as I always do. "What, I'll just go off to work all day and leave you here in day care?"

"Well, ... yes." He frowned at me, fixing me with that piercing 'B look' that means that his is the last word. I was sitting there shellstruck, searching for ways to process the change of my whole future as I had planned it. I listened as he told me that he wanted me to go on about my own life, that he thought it would be best to keep things 'completely separate' in that respect. That he didn't really want me to be his caregiver.

"You mean... you'd prefer a complete stranger came in and... did things for you?"

"Yes."

I felt like someone had pulled the rug out from underneath my whole life. I never in a million years expected him to say that. So, where is my role in all of this? Am I the temporary diversion, here until he feels bad, after which he'll summarily eject me from his life? Or worse, fade further and further away until we remain ghosts passing in the same house?

"I don't know what to say..." I ventured, and with that, he slapped me with the same old saw.

"So finally the reality is setting in."

No... reality set in over a year ago, when I looked at this man, this wonderful beloved friend that I'd cherished for several years, and decided that I wanted to make a go of this blessed life. I took him despite his diagnosis.... he took me despite my baggage and my exes and my kids, and I thought we were making the best of things and having a great time. All of us, kids included, have looked at this reality and have been making small adjustments to our paths to accomodate where the PD will take us, because we love him. Because we can't imagine life without him here.

I understand that the depression and the self pity spiral are part of the disease too, but it's the rejection that hurts me the worst. Does he mean it? Is it just the PD talking? How do I know?

More importantly, how do I steer my life from here? Am I expected to create a whole totally separate life from ours just so I have something to fall back on when he's gone? Do I get a choice in this??

Can't I page this book backwards a chapter or two? There's got to be something I recognise. Some familiar ground somewhere.

Consideration, or How to Behave in Public

Day 5: Love is Not Rude

He who blesses his friend with a loud voice early in the morning, it will be reckoned a curse to him. -Proverbs 27:14

Today's Dare

Ask your spouse to tell you three things that cause him or her to be uncomfortable or irritated with you. You must do so without attacking them or justifying your behavior. This is from their perspective only.

What things did your spouse point out about you that need your attention?

How did you handle hearing it? What do you plan to do to improve these areas?

******************************************************************

Oy vey. This one is a slippery slope.

It's early in the day today. I'll let you know how this one goes. This, I'm afraid, is one of the exercises that apply to me. I'm somewhat afraid of what he'll say. Should I anticipate what he might pick out as my annoying faults? Or is that against the nature of the challenge?

Is it that I can get loud without really realizing it? That I've talked about scrubbing out the shower for the last five days and not gotten around to it? That I always forget to put the coffee on at night with the timer so we have to wait an extra five minutes in the morning? Or that I've been known to toot occasionally in bed while asleep? (Hey... the occasional gaseous emanance is normal, right? And he spent the summer completely obsessed with rice, beans and coleslaw. How am I supposed to be held accountable for rice and beans?? Especially when I'm asleep?!?)

Wait... I'm not supposed to justify or defend. Okay. So no more Mexican food for me.

I await the judgment with bated breath....

(Okay, that is NOT why I am holding my breath, you guys!)

**********************************************************

Update:

Well, I got my answers, and he laid them out quite well, I thought. The list seems to be filtered somewhat by our intense frustration with the project we're working on at work, which has really brought out the worst in us. Not really proud of the way I've been handling being completely and utterly frustrated with this damn database we're working on. But then it would make the pope cuss. So, here are his answers, ranked in order from least to most importance:

3. My lack of patience (particularly when we're working on a project) I tend to get easily distracted/frustrated, and like to move on to fresher projects. Do I have ADH, or is it just that I hate the minutia inherent in the last quarter of a project?

2. On a similar tack - My defeatism when something goes wrong. Again, a product of frustration. Or should I say a coping mechanism gone awry? He told me that I have a tendency to unravel and focus on the defeat rather than tackling the task itself. Without coming right out and saying it, this is his diplomatic way of saying that I can tend to be a drama queen sometimes.

1. Saving the worst for last, a not totally unexpected, but unexpectedly poignant one. He said the thing that bothers him the worst is my lack of self confidence. Particularly, he said, the fact that I don't believe him when he tells me I'm the most beautiful woman in the world. He said this, mind you, in the kitchen, lifting my chin with his fingers because I'd dropped my eyes in shame.

And that, beloved readers, brought tears to my eyes, then and there. I can work on all of those things. But that last one....

How could I ever believe I deserved a man as wonderful as this one?

Thoughtfulness

Day 4 Love is Thoughtful

How precious also are Your thoughts to me... How vast is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand. - Psalm 139:17-18

Today's Dare

Contact your spouse sometime during the business of the day. Have no agenda other than asking how he or she is doing, and if there is anything you could do for them.

What did you learn about yourself or your spouse by doing this today?

How could this become a more natural, routine and genuinely helpful part of your lifestyle?

********************************************************************

HAHAHAHA. This was a funny one.

I should explain myself. B and I work together, and for the last two weeks we'vebeen beating our brains in on a really frustating project that seems to be going nowhere, endlessly. So every time one of the two of us sees each other, or picks up the phone, it's another problem that needs to be sorted out.

So, in the spirit of doing this daily exercise, I picked up the phone this afternoon. The conversation went something like this:

Ring ring.

"This is B."

"Hey, it's me."

"What's up?"

"Oh nothing. I just called to see how you were doing."

Long silence. "I'm working on the database, sorting out the addresses. Like we talked about a few minutes ago. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything's going fine." At this point I'm trying to salvage the conversation and keep it off of work. No agenda, right?

"Oh...kay. What did you need?"

"Nothing. I just called to say I love you." Yikes. Violation of cardinal rule #2: no moosh moosh at work.

"Mmmm." Evidently he is not alone at his desk. Ooops.

I try to pull it out. Go back to the script, M. "Can I do anything for you?"

By now he thinks I'm insane. "Uh, no. Just finish your part of the database. Are you having problems with it?"

"Oh, um.. no. Okay, thanks... I'll let you go. Bye."

*******************************************************

How could this become a more natural part of our lives? If we didn't work together! LOL

Passing judgment on this exercise, I would have to say that this would be more useful for couples who had totally separate lives. As far as B and I, I think we've got this one covered!

Here's hoping he doesn't consign me to the loony bin when the forty days are up!

Unselfishness

FIRST off, let me say 'wow'. The kids and I had an election rally in the living room last night, and I'll have to say that I heard more intelligent debate in there than I have in a year's worth of MSN. Hmmm...

And because I was shamelessly election-watching last night, you get my exercise late. Do I gotta to stand with my nose against the wall, teacher?

__________________________________________________

Day 3 Love is not selfish

Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor. -Romans 12:10

Today's Dare

Whatever you put your time, energy and money into will become more important to you. It's hard to care for something you are not invested in. Along with restraining from negative comments, buy your spouse something today that says, "I was thinking of you today."

What did you choose to give your spouse? What happened when you gave it?

**********************************************************

Today in the mail I got a package from Terry's Village, a little cutesy mail order company that we girls in the office frequently order from. I bought several little things for the house, but two things there caught my eye, and I had to order them for B. This happens to me frequently. I usually don't have a problem with this exercise - everywhere I go I think of him, and little things remind me of him.

The first thing was a silverplated can cooler, monogrammed with B's initials on it. I'm thinking it will make a great stocking stuffer for the man who has everything but a cold beer!

The other was one of those country-decor style signs. Something in it made me think of B.

I hung it over the entry to the dining room, and last night at dinner I watched him look up and smile a little. It sits directly across from his seat at the head of the table.

He makes me so proud. I hope he's found peace in this home... in his home. Our home.

Feels like eBay

Watching the election ticker in real time. I am a bad girl.

Does anyone else feel like they're watching the end of an eBay auction, hanging out refreshing the puter with bated breath?

I am pathetic.

Kindness

Day 2

Love is kind

Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you. - Ephesians 4:32

Today's Dare

In addition to saying nothing negative to your spouse again today, do at least one unexpected gesture as an act of kindness.

What discoveries about love did you make today?

What specifically did you do in this dare? How did you show kindness?

*****************************************************

What I discovered about kindness wasn't a revelation today. Rather, it began happening when B and I met. Maybe I'd lived life withdrawn for so long that I was no longer trying, but in my last relationship, things for several years had deteriorated to the point that my ex and I lived in some sort of parallel world in the same household, our circles never intersecting. I felt nothing for him (it was mutual), so the apathy was what felt comfortable.

When B came along I was thunderstruck. Something in him touched some little dried up, curled piece deep inside me, and I felt like the Grinch, whose heart had grown three sizes that day. It has always been an easy and natural thing to do the little kindnesses, the daily 'I love you's'. I did these things today, not because it was today's dare, but because when I do them, it makes my heart feel like a warm blanket a thousand acres wide.

What did I do today?

He got a haircut, I brushed the little pieces of hair that he couldn't see off his face. I put the towels on the top of the toilet rather than hanging on the rack, because it's easier for him to reach them without worrying about losing his balance. I turn down his bed and fluff his pillows every night, even when I'm staying up late.

I do these little things and with each small kindness, I'm saying 'I love you' without beating it into the ground and making the words meaningless. These are the same things he does for me. We trade off, quite naturally, in a blessed dance. I get up first and make the morning coffee so it's ready when he gets out of bed. He goes out into the cold morning air and gets the paper, leaving me the comics to read first, there in my morning recliner. I pour our cups, making sure to top his off with cold water so it's cool enough to drink. He feeds the dogs and cats because I'm always running late. We are a partnership - he grills the meat and I cook the side dishes.

Are these kindnesses? Or just the hallmarks of good love?

Should we define 'kindnesses' as 'sacrifices'? By that definition, then, I made two today. I went to eat at the Mexican restaurant with him today for lunch, even though I was pretty sure it would upset my stomach. And when he couldn't eat the shredded beef he mistakenly ordered, I traded him lunches even though I liked mine better. The biggest sacrifice was when we got home. He was tired, and I could see that he needed some time to defrag. And so I left him alone. Sometimes he needs less face time than me, and social interactions exhaust him. It's a big sacrifice to me, who wants to spend all my time with him. But it's what he needs. I think this was more of a kindness than rubbing his back for him or remembering to pick up beer at the grocery store.

What did I learn from this?

It feels good. Every kind thing that you do comes back to you a thousandfold. Because I let B have enough room to miss me, when he came to find me, it was blissful. He was so romantic last night he knocked my socks off. And we felt closer than ever before.

I give this lesson an A+++++++++++. I'll be making sure we don't quit this.

A two post Monday

I know, I know.

But something happened to me last night that set me right back on my rear.

I spent a couple of hours of downtime folding laundry and checking my email last night, and while my messenger was on, I got a blip from my ex (the one I'm still friendly with). He's having some existential issues in his life, and his faith has deserted him. We talked for a long time, and shared some insights back and forth that really got me thinking.

He told me that he thought that God had been talking to me for a long time and that I hadn't been listening. That I had control issues. I know that's true. It's very important to me that I feel like I'm in control of my life. There have been times in my life that I wasn't in control, and they resulted in things happening to me that were very, very painful and as such, I'm a wee bit gun shy. It hurts my relationships as well, I know it does - this inability to trust. One of the very first priorities that B made was to take an inordinate length of time and patience to lead me out from 'beneath the bed' so to speak in our intimate life. It simply wasn't in my vocabulary, a man who could make his own pleasures meaningless in favor of mine. Slowly I learned to trust him, in our physical intimacy and in our emotional intimacy.

In many ways I am still learning. I still catch myself questioning his devotion sometimes. For so long I have assumed that I was alone that it has become a habit, one that's been hard to break. When I am fretting about a difficult task and how I'm going to accomplish it, and B breaks in to tell me he's got part of it covered, I still look at him dumbfounded. "Really? You would go out of your way for me??" It's not a ploy... not a fishing-session for approval. It's simply an honest expression of the skip in my record that I feel when I realize that yes, he loves me enough to put his pleasure second to mine. That I'm not alone in the world.

The hardest part for me is the surrender.

I have fought the world for so long that I don't know how not to. All I know is that the solace that I find in B is immense. I have no problems giving to this man.. he gives back in spades. It's ironic, really.... we have the same problems. When we made the first tentative attempts at this relationship we asked each other "What happens when two givers collide?" The answer, we have found, is that it's wonderful 90% of the time. The other 10% of the time someone finds it hard to receive, and the other gets hurt. How would you feel if your good intentions were rebuffed? The problem, it seems, is surrender.

Surrender sounds like such a bad word. But it isn't a synonym for loss. Instead, surrender is an opening up, a breaking down of the barriers that keep love out. Surrender flings the gates wide so the love our partner wants to give us can come flowing in, filling us up to the top with acceptance.. with peace.. with hope. But it's so HARD to do sometimes. Why do we find it so hard to surrender? Why does B hide away when he hurts, so that no one can see? Why do I have to chase him down to help ease his pain, when it so obviously helps? Why do I hold back sometimes when all B wants is to lift me up? Is it the shame of needing someone to do for us what we can't do for ourselves? Is it an admission of weakness?

I need you.

We are velcroed at the heart. There should not be this awkwardness between us. But it doesn't end there. It goes back, for me, back to the very beginning.

I laughed with my ex last night as I quipped "I always had trouble with those first three steps..." But I didn't realize then how true that was. Look at them. Replace "alcohol" with "life".

We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.
Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

______________________________________________

Last night after we went to bed something happened that made it clear to me. We set the clocks back before we retired, but something woke B in the middle of the night and he thought it was time to get up. I was restless anyway, and when he woke up, I got up like a good little girl and went to make coffee, thinking it was 5 a.m. When I came back for our snuggle time (the ten minutes before the snooze rings - the most precious time of the day!), he was laughing. "Did you start the pot?" he asked. "It's only 1 a.m.!"

We were both really awake, so he went out for a cigarette and I decided to take something to help me get back to sleep. I found some valerian caps that I'd used in the past, and took one. Now, valerian is one of the safest things out there, and I've taken it a hundred times, but this time was very different. By the time B came back to bed, I was having hallucinations, ataxia, and the weirdest sensation that my brain was prickling. It was extremely frightening. He got up and stayed up with me, watching me stagger around the house, fighting the drug. Every couple of minutes it would hit me like a wave: the somnolence, the weird visual tracers behind my eyes, my ears ringing. And I'd fight it back, struggling desperately to stay awake... take back control of my brain. He sat with me and talked to me until the worst of it passed, the better part of an hour.

Finally, we went back to bed. At last it dawned on me that what I'd been doing was fighting the normal actions of the drug. That when I'd taken it before, I'd gone directly to sleep in the beginning, letting it carry me off into slumber like it was supposed to, without the fight. And when it finally got through to me, there, in the safety of B's arms I let my body go. And when the next wave came through, I took a deep breath and surrendered, letting it carry me out to sea, out where I fell into a deep and restful slumber, as it had meant to all along.

How many things have I missed out on because I've been fighting, refusing the surrender?

I haven't trusted God to control my life. I've been fighting Him for nearly forty years now. I'm tired. I think He's telling me something. What peace, what riches await me when I consent to surrender?

I'm learning.

Patience

Today I am thankful for PATIENCE.

Patience is when B spends four hours of his day off, painstakingly scaling and printing a thumbnail sketch for my Christmas window to a four foot by three foot template, helping me tape it on the window cause I'm not tall enough to do it by myself, measuring out the dimensions, and helping background mask. Then, when I took a closer look at the situation out there and noticed how badly the rain came in underneath the six foot eaves, he helped me scrape all the mask off again, a sloppy messy job using credit cards, a spray bottle, and paper towels. Without ONE WORD of protest.

B's patience is one of his finest traits. He is slow to anger, meticulous in his dealings. The PD has something to do with this slowness of process, but the patience is B's. He takes everything in stride. I am the polar opposite; I struggle with patience. This spring when half the yard was six inches deep in mud and I was despairing, B was planting seed and surveying it with the serenity of a guru. "Have patience", he told me "It will grow." And it did. He's right, so many times out of many.

I found a book that will carry us through till around Christmas. It's called "The Love Dare", and it's a forty day guided marriage booster. Each day has a topic; each day has a 'dare', and calls for accountability. I will be doing the dare and the journaling, I'll just be doing it here. From what I can see, there's some valuable stuff in there. So, I am your guinea pig. I'll give you a review at the end of the forty days. Was it worth it? Did we need it? Does it work? I'll let you know. I'll post each day's dare and topic, and you can work it with me.

Here goes...

**************************************************************

Day 1

Love is patient


Be completely humble and gentle; be patient,
bearing with one another in love. —Ephesians 4:2 NIV

Today's Dare

The first part of this dare is fairly simple. Although love is communicated
in a number of ways, our words often reflect the condition of our heart.
For the next day, resolve to demonstrate patience and to say nothing
negative to your spouse at all. If the temptation arises, choose not to
say anything. It’s better to hold your tongue than to say something
you’ll regret.

Did anything happen today to cause anger toward your mate?

Were you tempted to think disapproving thoughts and to let them come out in words?

*********************************************************

Today I have not been angry with B. I will admit that I was hurt by something he said last night, but we're talking about today, so I'm off on a technicality. But then, if there was no opportunity for me to get irritated, how am I supposed to rate my reactions? Maybe I'll use yesterday's incident after all.

Yesterday B forgot his afternoon pills. We were out shopping, and I felt him crash. We came home as soon as we could, but it was too late. He was so far behind on the meds that he was totally down. He was angry with himself, and with the PD, and chased me out when I was trying to help. My feelings were hurt, and it made me angry. When I look back at it, what I'm REALLY mad at is the PD. But it's easier to slam a door, to retreat in silence.

But when I do that, is it really bringing us closer together? I know that I want him.. NEED him.. to be able to let me in when he's hurting and sick, but is it really his need right now, or is it just my own insecurity? Am I really hurting him by my need to have my needs be heard?

Today I vow to keep silent my hurtful tongue. This man - my treasure, my beloved friend - does nothing to deserve the acid of my hurtful words. I will not desecrate the sanctity of this relationship with anger.

Serendipity

I love it when things dovetail neatly. It fits right in with my perfectionistic nature. (More on THAT later!) I logged on today to find a little tidbit in one of my fave blogs re: NaBloPoMo. Check it out:


GO




The reason this dovetails so neatly is that I had already chosen November as my Month of Thankfulness. So be prepared... my writing fingers are rested and ready. How bout yours??