My grandma is still waiting for her turn to pass on. After she was seeming more alert again my aunt took a trip to stay with her for a week. She was able to stay in the home where my grandma is staying. They had a great week together where she was more awake and was eating food and talking more.

This past week they noticed a hard spot in her abdomen. Long story short the hospice nurse says it’s something likely with her liver. She’s looking more jaundiced and now has fluid building up in her abdomen making it very distended.

I Facetimed Darlene for a brief time in the morning. Her eyes were closed but I was able to talk to her and tell her hello and that I love her. Darlene told her she didn’t need to talk back as it makes her too tired. She told my aunt that she is dead to the world and the world is dead to her. She was at peace.

I’m starting over with writing as that wasn’t quite where I wanted to go. It wasn’t really a missing. Missing implies more of a longing for something different. I don’t long for him to be back here, plus that would not be what is best for him. It’s more like, on certain days, for whatever reason, I think of him. I remember that I had another child or children.

The day started wide open. I love those mornings when I realize there’s nothing else going on and we have the whole day. I finished up the wellness plan and turned that in. I ordered the boys’ Bible books for the rest of the school year. I tried to read and write in my journal but the dog had somehow gotten into the eggshells from the garbage.

And I remembered then too and it was not a pleasant memory. When my time was not my own and walking from here to there in a straight line was a distant memory. It was not the big things, it was the littlest things I could not handle. The fragmenting of my time into microseconds and micromovements that frustrated my every tried direction.

Oh but enough about that. I’m not here to complain about a former life. The boys and I had a lovely morning. I woke them up to play with the dog. Dad was two hours away at chapel. “Don’t they have any closer pastors?”, my son asked. Sometimes they call him and other times he calls them. That’s his business and I feel no need to make a fuss.

I tried again in the afternoon to do the readings from the morning. In my Bible I found a letter that Josh had written me after Epiphany. I almost moved it to the side but then thought, “I should read this again.” And then the letter made me cry. How am I so dumb? How are women so stupid? Why do I turn away from and stop desiring what is?

He was home by then, and I felt the need to reach out. Would I have been fine then, yes, but later, if I let it go too long, I would not have been. I texted, “When you have a chance can we take a half hour or so to have some talk/catch up time?” I first said, “When you have a chance do you want to…”, but changed it, trying to own every word.

“Sure”, he said. So after lunch and whatever else we found each other on the living room loveseat. He doesn’t like to talk in bed when he’s dressed and has shoes on. It didn’t need to be much, it was just an exchange of sharing whatever we’d heard, read, or done in recent days. He says his things. I say my things. We’re content to just be.

Is this divine grace or a tragedy? The way we change for one another, the way our edges are smoothed, the way experience shapes us. I had class later over Zoom because of the weather. So we had supper all together which between three of us was made. Class went well and she let us out 15 minutes early.

“Grace be with all who love our Lord Jesus Christ with love incorruptible.”
~Ephesians 6:24~

I found myself missing my son a lot today. I usually tell him when this happens. I can’t seem to not. It never quite gets the response I’d make up, like, “I miss you too, Mom. I think about my childhood years quite often and feel so blessed by God to have had you as my mom. We had many wonderful days together.” He’s gotten better with communication. Like when I ask him how he is, he asks me back how I’m doing.

I was praying for his track meet on Friday and it hit me then. And when the big kids came home from school and pulled into the drive and stepped out of the car. I said, “Hi big kids!”, from where I was on the hill and missed him coming home from school. The boys and I had school at the table this morning, just the three of us. Zorro is becoming more toddleresque as he grows. The past few days he’s been into more things.

He was very smart. He got a 35 on his ACT which surprised absolutely no one. I sometimes feel like I should’ve talked about him more in the moments he was here. I tried to tell him he should take it again and try for a 36. He said, “Why??”, not seeing the point. I wish someone would’ve encouraged me to take mine again. I could’ve done better and would’ve known to not go so slow. I would’ve finished it the next time.

Smart is relative, I know. So many other qualities trump it. I forget sometimes that he’s engaged. He doesn’t talk to me about it but he’s asked his dad about several things. I asked how Laura was doing and he said she’s got a job now at a local fast food place. They want to have kids right away. It seems a lot for young people to juggle but I can’t say much against it. That is after all how he got here. I hope they can have them.

He was conceived on my brother’s futon. We’d gone to visit my parents and so they put us down in the basement which was where my brother’s room was. I started out on the pill but after a month or so ditched it. We said we’d use Natural Family Planning which was fine but it has its drawbacks which I did not put up with long. There were nap times and play dates and our nighttime CD. I would tell him more, whenever he asked me.

I would really like to hope by now that people understand that when I use a word like “plans” that I am doing so very loosely. For now I’m still over here going in early to alphabetize files in a secluded room in the Contact basement. After that I went upstairs to where Alexis was already waiting in the side room. We talked together with a boy who’d been written up at school. We created an activity called “pushing your buttons”.

She’s thinking about just staying with Contact now and not trying to bother with working at Memorial. I don’t care what she does but I’d rather her stay and keep on with the second evening. I think our supervisor might be getting in trouble because one of the faculty members keeps trying to email her. I learned today that Alexis is the president of some kind of honors program for graduate students. She’s also a graduate assistant and is pretty close with the faculty members.

So it’s all kind of making a little more sense. She started out in a nursing program but knew it wasn’t for her when they got to the part of giving bed baths to dummies. We talked about that feeling and experience you have when you deeply know that this is what you love doing. She had an experience like that last week, while she was meeting with a mom. Something happens here where you start to belong and feel at home.

We’re supposed to be getting an hour of supervision each week. It was one of my goals this semester to be more proactive about this. Weeks would go by without me stopping downstairs but if I did stop by then for the most part she could talk. The woman is busy and I understand that. The Thrive situation is different where you get supervision easily and he’s the one who initiates. I use the word fantastic and mean it, he’s that good. There are those people who want and have to teach.

But he is human too and so I do get frustrated, or scared that I am somehow not seeing things right. I changed my question to “What are the chances of me getting 2-3 more people by the end of the month?” He said it’s not unrealistic but make sure my calendar is up-to-date. We have to mark the times when we’re available for booking. So I did that, but I don’t know, I’ll believe it when I see it. I feel like this whole thing is driving me nuts.

Today in class we had a faculty candidate giving a teaching presentation. It lasted for about an hour and then we had a fifteen minute break before coming back to ask the teacher any more questions if we wanted. Our regular teacher said we could work on our projects if we wanted but that she had something to do at 5. So I left around then.

I saw Alexis while I was there and asked her how the time had gone after I’d left from our site last Thursday. She said she should’ve left when I did. She had a really good session with one of the moms but one of the workers kept coming into the room. I forgot to tell her that was one of those idiosyncrasies that came with working there.

She thinks they need to be pulled as a site and that the only way she’s going to make it is if she gets another site and knows she doesn’t have to do internship there. I don’t think it’s that bad. I don’t mean to frame this like she’s the unreasonable one and I’m the calmer, more mature one, but that is how it feels at times when we’re talking.

She has valid concerns, and like I said earlier, I’m trying to do my part to clean up my side of the street so that I’m more fully following proper procedures. After I left she was asked to watch the upstairs floor while one of the workers had to mediate a situation downstairs. While the worker was gone a kid threw up and she had to clean up the bed.

Cleaning up puke is not what we are going to school for. She’s totally right and I couldn’t believe that that had happened. I really like her and want her to stay but she did say yes to picking up hours at Memorial so she’s going to drop one of her Contact evenings. This is also why I picked up another site. I wanted a more professional side to things.

Part of it makes me second guess my judgment. They’ve had a student there an entire semester (myself) and haven’t heard a peep out of me in terms of any complaints. This new student is there for a week and has been in nearly regular contact with her faculty supervisor regarding all the issues she’s having. How is it I’ve been so numb to all this?

But part of me also thinks this is still good experience. It allows for evening hours which is something I wanted. You are exposed to levels of poverty and family dysfunction that make you just sit in quiet containment. The children get focused attention in a way that is different. I took the break over Christmas and feel like I have settled back in there.

So there’s that. As of now I don’t go back to Thrive until Friday. I don’t suppose it’s abnormal to be wondering in this process things like, “What am I going to do with this degree when I’m finished?” I thought through various ways of asking the supervisor, “What are the chances of me doing what Alex is doing and ending up working here?”

At Thrive you’re a private contractor and split the money 60/40. So you keep 60 and he gets 40. The benefits are having insurance and billing services covered. You have a clean cozy office space with no building maintenance. You have an already established business to streamline you patients. I feel like I could do at least three full days a week.

There are things I would like to do, like reserve five or so spots for those who couldn’t pay anything, or would get a reduced rate of $20. I could fill in for group or even start one of my own that I could do in the evenings. With 2000 more hours of supervised working I could upgrade my license from LPC to LCPC and get to supervise students.

I still have in the back of my mind that I would do something church related. I used to describe it as coordinating services or organizing a list of resources to give to churches and area pastors. Sometimes I think I’m too known in the Lutheran communities and providing counseling to local church members would be too weird with mixed feelings.

But there’s part of me that thinks I could do it and be nonjudgmental while holding their stories. And it wouldn’t have to effect anything or change the way I see them at all. We have a wellness plan due tonight at midnight. She said as long as you submit it before she goes to grade it then it’s fine. I’m probably going to work on it now in the morning.

The snow is mostly melted now. The look of the ground too has shifted to the colors of February. It’s the brownest month for color but still is enjoyable in its way. I’ve never felt more at home in a winter where there is no rush to forward the time. It’s exhausting to grow fresh greens all the time and even nature needs its rest. I do enjoy the lengthening days and how the sky is not dark anymore by 4:30.

I hardly even miss the sun. If I’m here when those days return then I’ll be out in it soon enough. I’ve not been on a decent walk since Thanksgiving and honestly don’t miss those either. I see the posts on social media about getting such and such amount of protein, balancing hormones, lifting weights. I gave years of my life to thinking on such things, to taking steps to fix or preserve my body.

I am free when my mind is at peace and I am beautiful when I believe that I am. Neither of those qualities require a regimented diet or plan. I enjoy the bananas and apples in my oatmeal. I notice the difference when I walk up the beach path and it dawned on me in January that there are other ways to grow strong.

“…but instead let there be thanksgiving.”
~Ephesians 5:4~

When I use the word mediocre to describe my current housewifery performance I’m not making up words to degrade myself needlessly. I have witnesses who can see for themselves and even one who comes to me on occasion to discuss with me my recent failures or behaviors that seem to contradict what it is I often say that I am wanting.

I did not understand my own mother. How a woman who seemed to have all the time in the world could not keep the laundry done. Why cooking seemed to be such drag. Even now I do not understand certain things. When I consider the way I feel toward my children, the way my heart is bound to them and how I’d give to them my whole being, why does not my own mother pursue relationship with me or the ones in my life?

I have a strong maternal drive. But this does not always translate into actions that communicate devotion and presence, and the felt needs that I have and naturally give or seek to fill in others do not always match the felt needs of the ones I am attempting to provide for. Such is the way of being and growing in relationship with our people.

The kids and I had some cleaning time in the morning. I wanted things straightened before Dad returned in the evening. He’d been there to watch the 5k race in Nebraska and returned sometime to meet my mother-in-law and the kids for supper. I filled up a bowl of bleach water that I was going to use to wipe down the bathroom but when I went to pick it up from the counter I somehow ended up pulling a back muscle.

So I could hardly move for several hours but the pain subsided enough to where I felt I could go to work. Elianna came in for a while to massage where the pain was. I gave the kids instructions and made some tea and found a water bottle. The night went well and when I returned Dad was home and on the couch where he had waited up for me.