For Such a Time as This

Cocooning is a natural part of grieving for me. Pulling in my immediate family within the confines of my four walls, loving on them, leaning with them, all of us learning to do life in a way that is drastically different. The noise of the outside world too chaotic at times for me to partake. I know I need to preserve my energy and plan days with nothing but white around the edges. A long time ago, when all the kids were younger, balance felt so hard. Now it feels as normal as breathing. Yes, if I want to; No, if I don't. There are no apologies for this season of rest. Focusing on my mental and physical health is a necessity for such a time as this.

Putting up boundaries, no longer putting out fires, simply cherishing the every day life that we are blessed to live is my present. The truth is, when it is all said and done, your immediate family is all that you have. Luckily for me, we have poured in to each other and we are open to the shifting seasons. With an adult son grown, two in college, and one about to start, it makes sense to be available when they are, to make plans with them in it and to simply be together. Everyone's schedule is different now. We have jobs and school, but sitting around the table and story telling is important enought that we have reinstated Sunday family dinners. I will often try a recipe from the gazillion my mom collected. The keepers will go in to the family cookbook. The others, I am not afraid to throw away. Memory making one meal at a time. My mom would like this new tradition.

Adventuring has taken on a new meaning as well. We have five trips planned over the next seven months. These trips give something for us to look forward to. They are planned well in advance so the older kids can ask for time off if they want to, but they are small treasure troves of adventuring with which we will make the best new memories regardless of who is there. 

Every day at two pm, my alarm goes off. There is a quote I refer to daily, that reminds me, " That was before. This is now." A lot of days there's a battle going on in my mind for what it used to look and feel like and what it actually does. This little dose of reality calls a truce in my brain. What it was versus what it is. I am learning to accept it.

In a lot of ways, memories of my early childhood with my brother have mostly brought me joy. I mean, there was that one time he called 911 and chased me with a butter knife, but he was my first friend. And although we were opposites like water and oil, there was an unmistakeable protectiveness about him, an annoyance that he always wanted to play with me and my neighborhood friends, an admiration for his ease in talking to all those he met. He was my entire childhood. Good, bad, and everything in between, there is no one that I have that in common with. He is not here to share those stories, to make the new memories as the adults we are now with kids who are growing up. The next chapter was starting and now it's finished before it even began.

There is deep saddness when one realizes that I am the keeper of our childhood stories. There is no longer my person to banter back and forth with ease in the story telling. There is no one who knows the highest of highs and the lowest of lows that were experienced in our childhood home together. My brothers take on the entirety of our growing up years is just gone. That alone makes me want to write our Durango Dukes adventures to share with a new generation. Perhaps my next chapter will include that. Not sure. I'm simply journaling through this experience of loss. Healing my heart, one post at a time.

The Dream

I remember this one time I had a dream that came back to me in the middle of math class my Senior year. As I looked at some crazy trigonometry notes, there in the middle of a bunch of numbers I had written:  I saw Nana in a white room and she talked to me.  I was weirded out. I had to leave the room, not knowing what it meant but knowing it had to mean something.  As I walked around my big, open, high school campus, it came back to me in bits and pieces and I needed to get to my papa's to let him know, his wife who had died almost a year ago. . .was fine.  She visited me just so she could give me this message for him.

Even now, this dream is so meaningful on so many levels.  I don't remember dreams.  I'm not sure if I truly don't have them or if I just wake up and do not remember a thing.  But I'll always remember that one.  It's like my Nana chose me on that day to be a messenger to my Papa, who was still visiting the cemetery daily for hours on end.  In fact, when I did find him later that afternoon,  it was in front of her grave, in his parked car, out in the rain.  And he had tears in his eyes as I told him the parts of the dream that I could remember.  I recently told this dream to the kids.  For never having met their Nana, anytime they see a blue bird fly across the sky, they call out to me.  They don't want me to miss the opportunity to catch a glimpse. . .of Nana (a bird lover).

There's certain things I remember about my Nana as a little girl.  I often wonder what quirky things my own kids will remember about their grandma when they are older.  For example, my Nana always prayed before we drove somewhere.  She usually had a damp washcloth with her, and she spent hours in a dark bedroom or perfectly applying her make up in her bathroom. I remember vividly us around a kitchen table, and having to stay out of her perfect, formal living room with the plastic covered furniture.  I remember singing, lots of singing.

I remember a station wagon, and my song about the pink jacket.  I remember her chicken mole and the tight pigtails she could make.  I remember these seemingly meaningless things that mean something now because I actually remember.  Her only brother often would remark "Ah, Angela," when I would say hello or good-bye and turn my cheek up to accept a kiss without giving one in return. . .and there was always a sense delight in me with the realization that I was some how like her, even in such a simple way.

Angela, part of our daughter's namesake. . .memories that seem a lifetime ago, but gratitude that they're my memories for the taking and sharing in this sacred place. It is here I recount to my children so that my legacy might one day live on. . .maybe it will be the gift of my words, sharing our family history that they might always remember who they come from and who we strive to be.
"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps" (Prov. 16:9). 

September 24, 2012

1 Timothy 1:5: "But the goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith."

This girl!  Oh, this girl!  She is something else.  The Lord is teaching me some mighty powerful lessons when it comes to child rearing with this one.  Some days, I can verbalize the blessing aloud of me being home more  than in the past.  Other days, it's hard to put my thoughts into well construed sentences because nothing about it seems to make sense.

My head knows that this is where I have always wanted to be--my whole life--two Master's degrees and fifteen teaching years later.  BUT, no one ever really told me how hard it is.  Or maybe they did and I just didn't listen--I had to find out for myself.  Maybe it's not hard, it just seems hard because I am new at this whole stay at home thing.  Maybe it's hard because I put such pressure on myself  with high expectations. Maybe it's hard because the personality of my third born is so different from the rest.  She seems to be learning from them, and just not all the good traits either. . .

I know this is where I am supposed to be because He trusted me enough to put me here; however, I do not think a day has passed where I do not acknowledge that I am totally dependent on Him to get me through some days swirling with almost three-year-old attitude and angst.  I am such a work in progress because this child brings me to my knees.  She makes  me cry out to the Lord for guidance, wisdom, patience, energy, discretion, her dad. . .you name it, I have prayed it.

My heart doesn't ache or break with the "I'm mean," "I'm angry,"  and believe it or not but I actually heard, "I hate you" the other night.  (I've never heard that from the other two.  Never)  I just keep trying patiently (sometimes better than others) to lead her back to shining His light, and asking for forgiveness, to love her, to shower her with grace and teach her right from wrong gently. It is SO hard sometimes!

 She reminds me, dare I say so much of myself.  Not when I was that age, because I was nothing like her--but sometimes her interactions, her self-centeredness, her irritation, her attitude, her need to be doing, her frustration when things don't go according to HER plan. . .I see glimpses of me.  I see glimpses of that high school girl I used to be, that college girl I grew up and away from, and the newlywed who had to learn to do better. Those glimpses I see from time to time aren't my best parts.

On a decent day, I can smile.  In those moments when I actually allow myself to see me in her. . .I can look for the blessing.  She is young.  I can pray as if my life depended on it for her weaknesses.  I can guide her through her frustrations and irritations by reading His words, and we can put on our battle armor and fight this stuff together because sooner or later she will see, we really are on the same team.  He really is our Father, our counselor, our coach. . .and after three Monday sin a row with daddy, he has gained a whole new respect for me being here.  That is definitely a part of God's plan too. . .the two of us teaming up to parent and love as He has instructed us to do.  What an adventure we are on. . .and September isn't even over yet.  I am hopeful.  I am faithful. I am a prayer warrior.  I am blessed.  Through it all, always blessed.

June 21, 2012

The past four days have been filled with non stop excitement.  On Monday, after pleading with big brother and uncles to take the kids to play laser tag,  I ended up there.  Alone.  To fend for myself.  Sitting out was not an option.  The kids wanted me on a team, so there I went, into the dark with backpack on--listening earnestly for the rules of warfare.  Believe it or not. . .but I had NEVER played before!!  This kid was ready for battle. . .more so than I can say for myself.  However, I had SO. MUCH. FUN!  Seriously, talk about a work out!  I even tripped over a partial wall that couldn't be seen in the dark and have bruising on both my legs.  Bad bruising, but it was so worth it.

I laughed. We ran. We attacked.  We took breaks and then started again. 7 games of pure fun!  Might I add, I was the high scorer for our team in the final game?!

Tuesday the fun continued with a trip to a local water park with my BFF and her two daughters.  We bought passes so we can visit often. . .even though I stayed with the littles and didn't do any of the fast slides (thank God for my BFF), the morning was SO enjoyable and the lunch after at an old classic was delicious!

Wednesday we headed out early to the dollar movies where we watched Happy Feet 2.  It was super cute and again I was reminded how simple and fun something can be if I really focus my attention on enjoying the moment and being truly present.  After that we had a picnic in the park with some old friends.

We visited the nature Center where the kids were able to get a lesson on red tail hawks--up close and personal, really.  We saw some owls, deer, and snakes.  It doesn't matter how many times we visit, they never grow tired.  It amazes me that they always see things with fresh, new eyes and I realize...I too must try to live this way.

Later, we met up with the grandparents and cousins and headed out to dinner.  A nice ending to another full day.  But here's the thing:  although the days have been full, they haven't been hectic.  I really am letting the kids lead and not committing to more than one activity a day.  Take today for instance, we will do our "schoolwork" and pick up since they did such an amazing job cleaning on Monday. . .then we will head to the library across the street and then maybe the Farmer's Market tonight--they have plenty of times where we are "on" and plenty of time to simply "be. "

Maybe that is the lesson I have learned over the past year in being more selective with how we choose to involve ourselves in outside activities.  As important as I believe nurturing their interests or passion is, I don't believe in carting them around from class to class/activity to activity. My time with them is precious.  I want to be their first role model and when I'm dividing our time with too much "stuff" in the outside world--it isn't beneficial to any of us.  Lesson learned.  And I truly am a happier mama for it.  This summer feels different, because it is different.  Living a simpler life based on more relationship building than class competing has changed us all. For. The. Better.

May 21, 2012

Dear Kids,

I want you to know how blessed you are to have Tita in your life! Your great-great aunt loves you so much and she is one of the only links to your great Nana, Angela.  Tita never was married, nor did she have any children, but her love and dedication to the Lord has always been something I truly admire about her.  The other thing I admire?  I admire her gift for hospitality.  She welcomes you in her home.  She feeds you. She offers a drink.  She is one of the most hospitable hostesses I have ever met.

Since Tita lives in a house that once belonged to my great grandma Pepita, I have such fond memories from there.  Grandma's coffee around the kitchen table, pan dulce, beans soaking, fresh, home made flour tortillas and butter.  Then there was the sounds from the piano...and gathering avocados and running wildly in the large land fenced off from the street.  I remember this house vividly--and even though Tita has now made it her own and it is updated and the roof no longer looks like it might cave in. . .I remember what it was and all the good times that were had there with your Uncle John.  I remember parking in her yard as we gathered to watch the annual parade.  I remember these times with a hint of a smile on my lips because this is part of where my childhood begins. Such fun memories!

Anjalene, what a true blessing that Tita cared for you the first year of your life.! She showered you with love, and songs, and hugs, and kisses.  What an incredible bond you two forged!  One that exists today as she comes to mass to hear you sing, or stops by to take you for breakfast, or a visit at the house.  She is in the audience at all of your performances and the love she has for you radiates.  Truly it does. What a blessing it was that year to race off to her house where my baby and lunch awaited me.  Meals that have no recipe--just a little of this and a little of that.  Conversation and hopes and dreams were shared around that table and even though by this point both my grandmas were long gone up to meet their Lord. . .Tita was present.  She filled spaces I never realized needed to be filled.  Hers is the home I feel like I can stop without an invitation. She is a woman whom I'm so fortunate--takes an interest in the family we are creating.  She is part of the legacy I hope to leave for all of you.

Tita keeps us in prayer.  That is probably the biggest blessing she bestows on us daily.  She is a woman after God''s own heart and all of you are incredibly blessed to have an aunt with her kind of faith!! Love her well, kids. Love her well.

Blessings always,

Mom