Love in Unexpected Places

When Roxy and her fellow canine came to live with us nearly a decade ago, we weren't looking for new family members. But when God presents you with an opportunity to care for His living creation, you'd be wise to do so.

I didn't always appreciate Roxy's special personality. She was energetic, to say the least. She jumped on anybody and everybody all the time. She barked at approaching cars, the wind, and anything else she could see moving through the window where she loved to perch. Oddly enough, she rarely barked at anything when she was actually outside.

When Roxy's buddy died a few years ago, her spark dimmed a little. She never seemed to quite recover and became very needy, always following someone around, always seeming a bit neurotic. But she remained a bundle of energy, still jumping, still barking, still excited to see the great outdoors.

Recently we discovered Roxy had a tumor. Surgery showed it was an aggressive form of cancer, and the vet warned us that it would recur. Our time with Roxy was coming to an end...we just didn't know how quickly.

Last week she stopped eating. At first we were able to get her to eat small bits of human food, but that didn't last long. Eventually, the most she would do is sniff it and drink a little water. Already a fairly small dog, she started losing weight rapidly. Our hearts were breaking because there really wasn't anything we could do for her other than end her suffering. My husband and I didn't want to make that choice. We prayed that God would allow her to pass away peacefully in her sleep. But it soon became evident that we would need to take action.

Roxy continued to get around okay, even showing excitement at going outside to sniff around. Since she didn't appear to be in distress, we wanted to wait through the holiday weekend to make a decision, knowing that our grandchildren would be here for a few hours and she would enjoy time with them. And she did.

As the weekend drew to a close, Roxy was getting weak. She was sometimes having difficulty going up and down the stairs, and we feared she might fall and be injured. It was obvious the end was near, and we knew she was beginning to suffer. It was time to say goodbye.

My husband couldn't hide his soft side as the events unfolded. But who knew my hard, cold heart would break? Who would have expected me to miss tripping over her around every dark corner or stepping on stray balls of dog food that felt like Legos underfoot, or to feel sadness that I no longer had to watch for puddles on the floor? 

Sometimes we find that we loved where we never planned, and we miss what we didn't fully appreciate while we could. Life is unpredictable. Life can be painful. But we can always find love if we open our minds to the possibilities. Even in the form of a little spitfire of a pup who moved into our lives and into our hearts when we least expected.

 

Rude Awakenings

I thought I knew everything about human nature. Or that at least I was good at managing my expectations based on who I was dealing with and what I knew about that person.

But then reality came calling.

My oldest grand/daughter's father passed away recently. At first my heart broke for her. I hadn't seen her father in years, and I guess I was thinking mostly about what she was dealing with. He was hospitalized for a week, was comatose, and the outcome became obvious within a short time.

Due to the Covid-19 restrictions, only a couple of people were allowed to visit him in ICU until the decision to take him off life support had been made. Once we were allowed to visit, my husband and I went to the hospital to support our grand/daughter during what would be the most heart-wrenching day of her young life.

I wasn't prepared for the emotions that hit me upon entering that room.

Once upon a time, when our first grand/daughter was born, we allowed her parents to move into our house with her. I got to know her father a little better during this time. They weren't here long and I don't remember when or why they moved out. But it was clear from the beginning--we would always be family.

Eventually our grand/daughter came to live with us permanently. Her father would come visit as much as possible. He made mistakes in life--don't we all?--but his love for his daughter was obvious. As she got older and was able to drive, he no longer came here and I lost touch with him over the past several years. There was never a question that father and daughter loved each other immensely.

When my husband and I saw him in the hospital, we were both hit with such a sense of loss...for us, for our grand/daughter, and for her mother. Here was a young man who didn't have much opportunity in life, and it was now ending. (He had been raised by his grandparents, and I don't think he saw his parents...especially his mother...very often.)

Since the visitation restrictions had been somewhat lifted due to his dire condition, my grand/daughter and her mother had reached out to his parents and half-siblings so that they could have a chance to say goodbye.

Nobody came.

He passed away the next day. His daughter stayed by his side as long as possible, but because she had made the decision to donate his organs, she couldn't stay until the very end. But she was determined to be there for him as long as possible.

After my husband and grand/daughter had made the decisions regarding burial, etc., and since an actual funeral would have to wait until people were allowed to congregate again, the funeral home agreed to a family-only viewing. Again, my daughter and grand/daughter reached out to his family to let them know the details so they would have one last chance to see him.

His mother and two of his half-siblings showed up for the viewing. We introduced ourselves as we stood outside. The mom chatted a little in a very casual way. She never mentioned her son, at least not that I heard. The siblings never spoke a word to us. It was awkward to say the least.

My entire family went into the chapel to see him as soon as we were allowed. We were all brokenhearted and struggling to keep our composure.

The viewing was only supposed to last 30 minutes. After about 15, his family finally walked into the chapel. I left, partly to comfort my younger grand/daughter who had broken down and left the chapel very quickly, but mostly to give his family some privacy.

I never saw a single tear from any of them. As a matter of fact, my husband said they sat near the back of the chapel and he overheard the mom ask, "Aren't they going to say anything? Is this it?"

The one thing she never said was, "Thank you for taking care of the final arrangements for my son." And they left shortly thereafter, never saying a word to anyone.

It became blatantly obvious that this young man who meant so much to my grand/daughter, and was still close to her mother, had never known the love of caring parents. Our hearts broke all over again. So my husband and I got some comfort from knowing that he spoke highly of us and considered us his family. But that came with regret that we didn't try harder to include him in our lives and show him unconditional love. I guess we never knew that we were the only family he felt he had.

Sometimes people can surprise you. And it isn't always good.

Golden

Long before I became one myself, I enjoyed watching The Golden Girls on tv. I still watch every chance I get because those ladies keep me entertained with their sassy humor and unconditional love for each other. I've seen each episode so many times that I have almost every line memorized. For some reason knowing exactly what is about to happen makes it even more enjoyable. I like to keep the show on as background noise and only look up to watch when I realize a favorite scene is about to happen. I guess when you've seen and heard it all, you only really catch the highlights.

My husband and I took a road trip recently. I love road trips. Not only do I enjoy getting away from life's responsibilities for a little while, I also enjoy having a captive audience in the car for a few hours. Most days of the week I spend at home doing what I need to do and listening to the voices in my head (and the Golden Girls, when possible). Nobody here really listens to anything I say. Except me.

While talking my husband's ear off in our confined space on our very long drive, I realized that as usual, he was tuning me out, only occasionally catching the highlights and then reacting to what I was saying.

I really am his Golden Girl.

Lonely but not Alone

Earthly-speaking, I'm a 60-year-old orphan.

Some days I want nothing more than to call my mom. Or my dad. Or my big sister. Those are the people I could always lean on when life got too hard. But they're not here anymore.

It gets lonely.

As Blanche Devereaux said on The Golden Girls, as she stood over her parents' graves after her father's funeral, "I'm nobody's little girl anymore."

The Golden Girls was at times poignant, heartwarming, hilarious, and quote-worthy. Another favorite quote of mine is from Rose Nylund, after Blanche's teenage grandson indicated he would like to live with the them: "It wouldn't be fair to be this old and have to raise children!" In another episode, upon receiving a marriage proposal from a rich boyfriend with young children, Blanche was hesitant to take on the responsibility, saying, "They're practically babies! Babies need a mama! Goodness, I've already raised my family. I don't have the energy to go through that again!" These quotes regarding tired, old people raising children especially resonate with me.

I'm tired. And old. And still raising children.

But this isn't really about The Golden Girls or raising children through our golden years. Today I'm talking about feeling alone.

Raising our grandchildren has, in many ways, isolated my husband and me from other couples our age...and from each other. Those with empty nests are doing things we only dream about. Also, living so far from our siblings and extended family, and not having the freedom to travel often to visit, has made us feel like strangers when we do.  Sometimes those whose lives are so far away from ours--both literally and figuratively--seem to have forgotten about us or simply don't feel connected anymore. And when you get old and tired, but responsibilities are calling, your relationship with each other often becomes more about dealing with the day-to-day struggles than maintaining your romance. There simply isn't enough time or energy left at the end of the day.

As a parent, by necessity, your life can become consumed by the needs of your children. When that continues on for decades, it seems sometimes that your only purpose is to fulfill those needs to the detriment of other aspects of your life. And those children don't realize you are a human being, not a robot without emotions or needs of your own. Some days it would be nice to have another human being to talk with, sometimes even--gasp!--about your own hopes, dreams, and feelings.

I can't remember the last time someone other than my husband asked me about me. At least not in a meaningful, non-obligatory way. Occasionally I'll get the perfunctory question, "How are you?", but that doesn't really open up a dialogue. I personally can't bring myself to use that as a jumping-off point to talk about my struggles or even my few joyful moments.

But speaking of joyful moments, most of mine come at the end of a long, stressful day, when I reach out to the One who knows me and cares--my Heavenly Father. I can open up to Him about anything, and I do. I'm pretty sure that is the one and only thing that has kept me going this long. So even though it might sound like you've stepped into a pity-party, I'm really just trying to share that no matter how lonely and forgotten we may feel, there's Someone who will always be there and will always care. God loves you and He loves me, no matter how isolated we sometimes feel.

When nobody seems to see you or hear what you wish you could say, God will always be there to wrap you in His loving embrace and listen to what you can't put into words.

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Romans 8:38-39

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Recharge and Repeat

Just as I was anticipating enjoying the final chapter of my life when my younger grand/daughter graduates high school next year, my husband decided to add to my "to do" list and hire me as his work assistant. I have no problem helping my husband at his job, especially since it appears to be the only way I'll ever see him. But I'm tired.

Anyway, as I was working on my laptop computer, I noticed the battery was almost depleted. I had been so busy trying to learn how to do my new job that I hadn't remembered to plug it in to recharge.

Today, that's how I feel.

I don't have the hardest life out there. I also know I've been blessed in so many ways. However, that seems to add a layer of guilt to my feelings of being overwhelmed by life. How can I, Suburban Housewife and Mom, be anything but joyful???!!! My husband works hard to support us, our children are staying out of trouble (I think), we have a comfortable place to rest our heads at night, and as far as I know, nobody is looking to do us harm.

But I'm tired.

Did I say that already? Sometimes I simply want to repeat it. Or shout if from the clocktower.

I'm entering year 42 of child raising. I love my children with all my heart. But I don't know how much more energy I can expend disciplining, reminding, cajoling, comforting, cooking, cleaning, encouraging, listening, disciplining, reminding, cajoling, cooking, cleaning...

It never ends. And I'm still tired.

Over the past few months I've also lost two people I love very much, and even though I try to move forward in life as best I can, sometimes the memory washes over me like a giant wave out of nowhere and takes my breath away.

Sometimes I just need someone to listen. Someone who cares. Someone who will laugh with me about the absurdity of 42 consecutive years of trying to get little people to do what they need to do in order to become fully functioning big people.

I need a recharge. Or at this point, maybe it isn't just the battery; maybe I've served all I can and it's time for a new, more powerful machine to take over.

The household manual is in the kitchen drawer. Unless someone removed it and "forgot" to return it to its rightful place. If so, Shiny New Machine, you're on your own.

Commitment

I’ve tried so hard to have a more positive attitude lately, but the truth is I seem to have only succeeded in tamping down my feelings until they explode at some seemingly small incident. Life is fun like that.

God has been so good to me—not that I’m wealthy, or that I never have problems, disappointments or heartaches—but He has carried me through difficulties I was certain I could never make it through. And I have been blessed with a loving, hard-working, Christian husband (not that he’s perfect, just in case he’s reading this), and wonderful children and grandchildren.

But...

As much as I love my daughters and grand/daughters, spending 40+ years from age 19 to 60 raising them has been a J.O.B.  And one that isn’t ending any time soon.

They are really good people, and people I cherish, but they are still human beings. And humans...all of us...can be challenging.

Imagine taking a job at age 19...not just any job, but one that requires you to be actively working, or at least on-call, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year...for FORTY YEARS.

Every day you show up to work, and instead of a paycheck you are rewarded with criticism. EVERY SINGLE DAY. Often, by more than one person. Nothing you do is ever good enough, and usually it’s just WRONG. You can’t seem to ever figure out what anyone wants because that seems to change with each sunrise. So you try to master the fine art of mind reading, but you fail at that, too. 

You fail at EVERYTHING. 

Everyone seems to be unhappy and it’s somehow your fault. EVERYTHING is your fault. You’re the most unimportant, insignificant creature ever created, but somehow everyone else’s happiness rests on your weary shoulders.

I want to resign. Or retire. Or at least recharge. But those are all rather difficult with a still-active 24/7/365/40+ year commitment.

Maybe that’s the answer. Or so I’ve been told by my employers. 

I need to be committed. 

Mountains and Tides

Earlier today I began writing a post, excited to talk about how God has been working in my life lately. I also planned to mention the inevitability that difficult days would return from time to time.

And just like that, today became one of those days.

Before I could finish writing about how the tide seemed to be turning, a giant wave crashed over me. Once again I feel like I’m drowning.

The song I had already planned to share seems even more beautiful in light of this turn of events. Some days all we see are mountains looming ahead. Too often we let them obscure our view of God, who is waiting and able to move those mountains or to simply pick us up in His loving arms and carry us to the other side.

Nothing Wasted

My younger grand/daughter, who was just a baby last time I looked, got her learner's permit to drive recently. The years really do fly by. They just don't always feel that way while you're living them.

Ashamedly, I complain a lot here on my blog about the stress of raising my grand/daughters through what should have been my golden years. Make no mistake-- I love both girls with all my heart (and I wouldn't hesitate to take this journey again). But they've perfected the art of frustrating me with one misguided action or another. And I never had a moment to recover from the exhaustion of the previous 20 years I spent raising children before I found myself back where I started. When I'm not frustrated or exhausted, I feel very fortunate that my husband and I have been able to raise them. Unfortunately, there are few moments when I don't feel either frustrated or exhausted...or both.

(Truthfully, I still feel fortunate most days, but that usually only happens late at night when that day's challenges are behind me and all is quiet.)

One of the biggest regrets of my life is that I didn't have the strength to fully embrace and enjoy the opportunity to raise these precious girls. I think it can best be compared to the following scenario: You have the chance to take a once-in-a-lifetime, all-expenses paid trip around the world (well, maybe not "all-expenses paid"...it's been quite the costly adventure). But as much as you love the places you're visiting and the people you're traveling with, you're also suffering from a debilitating disease that makes every day of the trip feel like a chore instead of a vacation. And every day some new challenge arises that creates extra work just to get from point A to point B. Instead of enjoying the journey, you wonder if it will ever end. And because you started the trip exhausted and barely able to move, it takes a toll on everyone around you, too. You love the destination, you love your companions...but it just wasn't the best time to make the trip.

Are we there yet???!!!

God gave me a great gift in allowing me to spend the past 19 years attempting to guide and nurture two girls I love dearly. Unfortunately, He gave me the gift when I was already old and tired. I'm not questioning God's timing, but as with other events He allows for His purposes it's sometimes difficult to see the forest for the trees. But I'll keep praying for strength, regretting my failures, and loving these two girls even when they think they hate me. And I'll praise God because He wastes nothing, even if we do.

The sign says it all: Danger! 

Happy Birthday, Teresa

Today my older sister, Teresa, turns 60. It's a bittersweet day because she has been in a vegetative state for 17 years, but as long as she's alive I won't stop asking God for a miracle. And if that isn't His plan, I pray He will give her comfort as long as she's here.

Teresa has loved giraffes since she was a teen, so I try to use them in her cards as much as possible. This giraffe was cut on my Cricut Explore using the cartridge Bits and Pieces, the tree was cut from the Heritage cartridge, and I hand-cut the grass along the bottom.

I used Tim Holtz Distress Oxide inks to create the sunset background (or sunrise, if you prefer). I die cut the sun using my Sizzix Big Shot and a circle die, then backed it with shimmery paper. I used craft foam to create dimension between the sky and sun, but because I used a good bit of liquid glue to attach the front panel to the card base, I inadvertently caused a reaction with the distress oxide inks. (I tried to minimize the damage by adding a little more ink and pretending it was all intentional.)

I wanted to acknowledge Teresa's milestone birthday, but in a subtle way, so I simply stamped "60" in VersaMark ink on the tree trunk and embossed it with clear embossing powder.

As always, I really appreciate that you took a few moments to visit!

Guilty

I'll go ahead and put this out there (since it's impossible to hide)...I'm cracking under the pressures of life.

I've been accused of being the worst mother ever and an all-around horrible human being that no one wants to be around. If you've given your heart and soul and everything else you had to raise children, just let that sink in for a moment...

Funny, nobody can stand to be around me, yet they keep coming back. If I felt that way about someone, I assure you I would move heaven and earth to be able to stay far, far away.

If you don't have children you might not understand the frustration of never being able to plan five minutes ahead for anything. Children always need something. Or think they do.

Why don't I set them straight, you might ask? Refer to paragraph 2 above. If you've never been blamed for everything wrong with the world, you might not understand how that, combined with typical mommy-guilt, plays with your mind.

Yes, I've thrown another cup of coffee across the room today over what might seem minor to anyone else. Unless you've been raising children every day for the past four decades, all while giving up your hopes and dreams because nobody lives forever and you've been watching the years slip by, you might agree with paragraph 2. I beg you not to judge too harshly.

I'm simply a human being who has faults like every other human being. I love imperfectly. I try every day to be a better person...and fail miserably. I pray for help and forgiveness every night. I try to let go of the heavy baggage I carried into adulthood, but much like the children who suffered under my dictatorship, it always finds its way back into my home.

All I really need is some consideration. You want something from me? Try asking instead of expecting. Don't assume whatever you want is more important than whatever I'm trying to do. Yes, I'm old, but believe it or not I had things in this life I wanted to accomplish, and as important as you are to me...and as important as you think  you are, your desires don't always trump mine. Just be thoughtful of me once in a while. Contrary to the stories going around about me, I did put your needs ahead of my own in ways you'll never know.

There are still a few things I want out of life in the short time I have left. Please don't make me feel bad about that.

The Day I Forgot My Mascara

I'm in no way what you'd call "high-maintenance", but I don't think there's been a day in over 40 years that I haven't worn mascara.

Until yesterday.

Every day of my life, unless I'm deathly ill, I put on at least a little bit of makeup. I guess I feel I owe my husband that much. (I'm not easy to live with.)

I had errands to run yesterday, and on the days I'm forced to leave the house I usually put a little extra effort into my appearance. I can't do much to make life on this earth more beautiful, but I can try not to frighten small children. (A little lot of makeup can cover a multitude of problems.) I thought I'd applied everything I needed--spackle, paint, and the like--but somehow I forgot mascara.

I swear I checked my appearance in the mirror before I left the house. At some point before the day was over, I'm sure I took another quick glance. And last thing before going to bed, I spent a ridiculous amount of time in front of the mirror removing my makeup so I could apply my magic potions that do all the heavy lifting while I sleep.

I never noticed something was amiss.

At around 4 a.m. I awoke with a headache...and an odd panicked thought. "Did I ever apply my mascara today???" (The mind is a very strange thing.)

So what exactly is going on in my post-menopausal brain??? Have the nearly 40 years I've been raising children taken a dangerous toll on my memory??? Is life on Planet Earth simply getting to be too much for me??? Am I losing my mind completely???

I might never know what happened yesterday, or why I had a 4 a.m. "awakening". But if I start to forget too many steps in my beauty routine, it could get real ugly real fast. It's hard enough to be called "Ma'am"; my fragile ego could never handle being called "Sir".

Transitions

It has been a rough couple of weeks.

My oldest grand/dog, who lived with us for the past 5 years, passed away. And my oldest grand/daughter, who has--for the most part-- been in our home since she was born 19 years ago, moved into her own place.

Although I knew both of these inevitabilities would be difficult, I was truly surprised at just how sad I feel.

The dog was old and had been in poor health for a while. We knew his time was coming soon, but I think we were all surprised at how quickly his condition deteriorated. It's still hard to accept that he's gone.

My grand/daughter has been trying to assert her independence for a while now (19 years, to be exact). I knew one of us had to move out for everyone's safety (I was just thankful it wasn't me.) But I never expected that it would be this hard to let her go.

I know she's a smart girl. I also remember how hard it is to enter adulthood unaware that you don't know even a small percentage of what you think you know, and oblivious to the ramifications your decisions can have on your life for years to come (and sometimes forever).

Oh, how I wish I could make all her decisions for her (yes, I do now know everything). But she would have no part of that when I had the legal right to rule her world; why would I expect her to allow it now?

Transitions are hard. But they're a fact of life. All I can do is remember that I've made it this far, bad decisions and all, so I have no reason to doubt that she can, too. And I'll pray for God to protect her while she's busy learning everything she thought she already knew.

The Princess, after having learned everything she'd ever need to know

The Dog, when he was still frisky enough to think he owned me

Pileup

It has just all become a bit too much. Can I catch my breath? Please? Does it really have to be one pile on top of another on top of another on top of another...???

And the worst part is nobody understands...or seems to try.  No matter how I try to explain exactly why I can't keep going like this, it just becomes another "rant" by the crazy old lady.

Forty years. On top of the first 19, which weren't exactly a walk in a suburban park.

What other job requires their workers to give heart, mind and soul for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year...for forty years??? No vacation, no days off, no pay. And seemingly...no retirement.

My pastor, who I'm sure works very hard and is under great pressure, enjoys many spiritual retreats throughout the year. He also has several associate pastors along with a bevy of other church employees who take some of the burden off him. He even took a sabbatical a couple of years ago where he traveled extensively for a few months. I don't begrudge him one moment of it because too much responsibility for too long is too much.

I haven't had a single day off in forty years. Oh sure, my husband and I have taken a few short trips...very few...over many, many years, but there were inevitably problems at home that found their way to us before the "vacation" was over. I've even come home to a few "burglaries" and assorted other fiascoes.

Every time I think God will get me through this and I can build up strength before the next pile heads my way, I find myself suffocating under the weight of something new.

I hate feeling this way. I love my family. I wish I had boundless energy...physical, emotional and spiritual. But my batteries never get recharged. I'm literally running on empty.

Where do I go from here? Where does one go when the pressure mounts but there is no release? Why can't those around look at their own contributions to the unbearable stress and be helpful for a change, or at least not judge? Why am I expected to be Supermom, but treated as if I'm worthless and have no right to live some aspect of my life as I choose?

Where the hell is common sense, kindness and personal accountability? Yeah, I need a break. And I fear the only one I'll get will come in the form of a breakdown.

At least when that day comes they'll have to find another place to put their pile.

First-World Problems

Today I feel beaten down. I would say it has been a day filled with problems, but the truth is they are simply "first-world" problems. Nothing earth-shattering. It's just that there were a whole bunch of them. Before noon.

My life isn't so bad. It isn't what I wanted it to be and it isn't what I worked hard to achieve. But overall, I'm pretty blessed. That doesn't mean, however, that I can't feel like a lump of coal being pressured into becoming a diamond.  (I don't have a brilliant scientific mind, but I'm pretty sure that takes a long time and a lot of pressure.)

If you are feeling stressed, whether by first-world problems or by tragic circumstances, I hope this video will remind you that you aren't alone. Whether you are experiencing everyday problems or something more profound, remember that God wants to walk alongside you every step of the way. And when necessary, He will pick you up and carry you to where He wants you to be.

Keep Moving

What do you do when you've reached your limit and just don't know how to keep going? (Yes, again.)

I've been raising children non-stop since I was 19. I'll be 60 next year.

I'll let you think about that for a moment...


Just when I thought the grand/children were starting to spread their wings and fly, the older one did a u-turn and moved back in. It doesn't appear I'll ever get a break.

So, what do you do when you feel you can't go on? I've tried crying. And screaming. And fantasizing about a carefree life far, far away (usually on a beach and alone). But none of that helped one bit.

All I can do is look toward Heaven, and pray, pray, pray... then pray some more. After all, that's what brought me this far. And I trust that God will help me move to wherever He wants me to go from here.

Judging from the past four decades, He will probably just send me to bed for some rest and refreshment so I can get up tomorrow and do it all again.

Time Marches On...Dreams Stay Behind

I can't believe it took me this long to figure it out.

I see other women my age (post-menopausal) who seem to accept who they are...more or less. Yes, they might try to "turn back the hands of time", but they seem to know who--and how old--they are. On the other hand, I've been struggling for years to reconcile the old woman I encounter in the mirror with the 45 year old lady I expect to see.

And now I know why.

Before I reached my 30th birthday, I thought I had my life-plan in place. My youngest child would finish college while I was still in my mid-forties, and there would most likely be many good, healthy years ahead for my husband and me to enjoy life as a couple. But before that day came we found ourselves with one grandchild to care for...and then another. And shortly thereafter it became necessary for us to become their legal guardians. Eventually it became apparent that this was no longer a temporary arrangement and we would remain parents until these two precious children were grown.

Groan. 

I love my grand/daughters dearly, I truly do, and for their sake I was happy to spend the past 18 years caring for them. But now I'm old, tired, and falling apart. And last week, just a few months after I allowed myself to once again entertain ideas of a carefree future, my dreams were...once again...shattered.

I thought we had the oldest grand/daughter on her way to adulthood. She seemed to have a plan and we thought she was on her way to achieving her goals, but then she dropped the bombshell that she wanted a do-over. Not only did she drop out of college (after we had paid for the entire year), but now she wanted to take a year off to figure things out.

When, oh when, will it be my turn? I have it figured out...if only everybody else would do what they're supposed to be doing!

And it isn't just the death of my dreams that has me upset. The stress of endlessly raising children--and not always agreeing on the best way to do that--is taking a toll on my marriage. My husband and I celebrated our anniversary yesterday, but by today there wasn't much to celebrate. I still love him and I think he still loves me, but I don't know how many more stress-fueled arguments we can endure while trying to deal with the seemingly-endless task of raising children into responsible adults.

Anyway, back to the old lady in the mirror. The much-younger lady inside put her life on hold at 45, and subconsciously must have expected to come back eventually and find things just the way she had left them.  But it doesn't work that way. My life stopped...but the clock didn't. And I'm not especially happy about it all. Not because I can't handle a little adversity or hard work, but because I have a difficult time dealing with the impact on my life from the immature, irresponsible, selfish choices of others.

Today was excruciatingly difficult. Tomorrow is looking like it might be worse. But I'll try to start fresh anyway, and pray that if it can't be better I'll at least make it through. God has brought me this far, and I have faith He'll carry me on from here. He might have to. I'm not getting any younger.

Just trying to finish the race.

34 Years

Today my husband and I celebrated 34 years of marriage. There have been steep hills and deep valleys--and not much in between--but I wouldn't want to have climbed over and out with any other human companion.  And thankfully, God has been with both of us every step of the way.

It hasn't always been easy, but I've always been richly blessed.

For more about how I make it through each day, please visit my blog Blessings Before Breakfast.

Path to Everything

I hesitate to write this because my personal posts have caused turmoil in the past. And I don't need, or want, any more turmoil in my life. But it's been so long since I posted anything, I doubt my blog is on anybody's radar anymore.

Safe space.

I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism last week. Actually, I was diagnosed over five years ago, but I stopped taking my medication after a few months (for a variety of reasons), and the medical practice lost my records when they converted to a new computer program shortly thereafter, so we'll call it a "new" diagnosis.

Honestly, my "suspecting" this diagnosis is the only reason I dragged myself back to see my doctor. I have this dream that a magic pill will solve all my problems: overwhelming exhaustion, overwhelming depression, near blindness, inability to lose weight, excessively dry skin, etc.

That's a lot to ask of one tiny pill.

God is the only reason I've made it this far. There is no other explanation. Most days I can barely function (although I always manage to do what needs to be done). Many days I have no will to live (but I always hang on because there are people who count on me).

It's been brutal.

But the depression---that's the killer.  Life can be difficult enough. Life raising kids without a support system--and trying to do it right (which is the hard way)---isn't the best place for someone suffering from long-term depression. Stress exacerbates everything to the Nth degree. And if you don't already know, I'm going to let you in on a little secret---kids create stress levels you can't begin to imagine while you're still child-free and innocent. Teenagers can be deadly. Being called "crazy" as a thank-you for giving up the best years of your life to raise your granddaughters doesn't help anything. (And it isn't just the teenagers saying it.) To misquote Carrie Heffernan from an episode of The King of Queens, "I'm hearing 'You're crazy', when I should be hearing, 'I'm sorry.'"

Low self-esteem, low energy levels, low thyroid function---no wonder I feel so, well...low.

But not everything is low. I now have hypertension. Two teenage girls to raise=high blood pressure. And as mentioned above, being called "crazy" by everybody who doesn't get what they want or who pushes my buttons repeatedly until I snap (picture someone in a hurry on an elevator pressing the button over, and over, and over...), well, the elevator isn't the only thing going up.

Surprise! Now the crazy lady might just explode. Literally.

So here we go down this path to wellness...again. Can a tiny white pill really fix this? Do I really care? Does anybody?

I've done all I can do. Now it's up to a little bitty pill. And a great big God.

Reality vs. Fantasy

Dropping our oldest grand/daughter off at college last week had an unexpected effect on me...

I'm sad.

My husband and I never thought we'd be spending "our time" raising our grandchildren. We had planned and worked hard so that by our mid-forties, when our youngest daughter would be entering college, we could finally relax a little and be done with child raising.

That was a very long time ago. And it didn't happen.

Before we reached our fifties, what had started as us caring for our granddaughters part-time had turned into us being their full-time parents. Instead of my husband slowing down his workload with the goal of semi-retirement by his mid-fifties, he found it necessary to work additional hours and occasional part-time jobs to help make ends meet. After all, children can be quite expensive.

But the biggest toll on me, and the primary reason I didn't look forward to raising children into my sixties, was emotional. Children are often a source of anxiety and stress in our lives.

I love my grand/daughters with all my heart and soul. They are my children. And I worry about their health, happiness, safety, future, and in every other way possible.

It is draining. 

And I was drained before I started.

My husband and I thought that the beginning of the "college years" (part 2) would signal the beginning of our golden years. We have both worked hard to stay healthy and maintain our strength and balance as we get older so we can enjoy all the things we should have had time and money to do years earlier.

But now, with the realities of sending a beloved child out into the adult world, we are starting to wonder if we're ready to let go. Raising a teenager brings worry during the hours they are out running around. Once they're home, we can calm down and relax a little (until the next day when they do it all over again!)

When they're old enough to move out into the big-wide-world and are no longer safe and sound in their own rooms under our watchful eyes, the worry becomes a 24/7/365 event. And what I was really in need of was a little peace of mind and a sigh of relief.

Why did I not realize where this was headed??? After all, I had already sent another child off to college years ago...and much farther from home.

I think that back then, because our family had been in utter chaos for several years, we felt we were sending our youngest daughter out to a better, more peaceful place. And we were already caring for our two grand/daughters, so we couldn't really see an empty nest looming on the horizon.

We were very busy. And a little naive.

But here we are during a time of relative stability, and the reality of watching our grand/daughters fly from the safety of our nest and navigate the world without us is terrifying. And a little lonely.

It isn't at all what I expected.

Changes

For my family, this is Milestone Week.

My oldest grand/daughter started college today. And turned 18. What a difference a day makes!

On Wednesday, her younger sister goes to high school orientation. How is this even possible???

I'm reeling. As much as I've fantasized that my husband and I might actually live long enough to have time alone to enjoy as a couple, the reality is a little more bittersweet.

I'm not ready to let go!

Settling into dorm life (with help from little sis)