Today was a refreshingly uneventful Saturday. The kids had no meets. I did not have to work. Dad had a ministry fair he had to attend for an hour or so but that was not a big deal. I do think schedules have gotten way out of hand, but I haven’t the cognition to formal opinion on it. I just mean that I’m busy too, and my brain is tired from the various things that do require I use it.

Elianna was working next door and asked if I’d come over to help serve. She was feeding the pastor’s wives retreat. After a while Dad the boys came over as well. We ate together in the conference room that currently is fairly packed with donated quits, old curtains, and a fourth of the room’s space worth of possessions that are being stored by the camp for the annual state fair group.

Again, I have thoughts but some things aren’t worth repeating. As I was stacking and restacking stainless steel bowls on the bottom shelf, I thought to myself, “What if I am the OCD one being called to help out camp?” The abilities and characteristics are most certainly there. But the time, the energy, and the fortitude to see it through…I do understand that some dreams are just that.

“The Romance is not in present-day Oregon for me; it is right here in Colorado now, because this is where God and I live together.”
~John Eldredge, from his blog post Recovering the Romance~

My sister and aunt are in New York burying my grandparents. They purchased a shared cemetery plot decades ago. My grandpa was cremated in Florida and his remains stayed with my other aunt until she died. My grandma was cremated in New York and somehow the two ended up back together. So to honor their wishes and make use of that plot, they had a small service in Martindale to place their remains in the ground.

“I wouldn’t mind being cremated”, I said to my husband the other day. Every so often it just comes out, some comment about death and our corresponding thoughts and plans. When I heard that this was happening I didn’t have that “have to be there” feeling. I felt instead like I needed to stay here this time. They’ve been keeping us updated in the family group chat with pictures of their sightseeing and travels.

They had a small graveside service attended by a few of their relatives as well as several long time friends. When Grandpa and Grandma bought this burial plot, I’m assuming they thought they would die of old age and be buried in caskets. I don’t remember them saying. I surely can’t imagine it mattering much to them now. I think they’d still be happy though to know they made it back there.

We brought supper over to my mother-in-law’s house this evening. She wasn’t going to be home. One of my nieces had an eighth grade night and as well as church choir and acolyting over the weekend. The Cardinals were not in the playoffs so we switched our interest over to the Milwaukee Brewers who were playing the Dodgers in Los Angeles.

The Brewers lost. It was only me and one other son watching the game. The rest of the kids were either outside playing with the dog or sorting tools in Papa’s shed. Dad was out there also watching everybody.

We came home and Facetimed Ethan and Laura. They’re on their fall break so they were okay to stay up later. Usually past nine is getting to be too late for everybody. Laura planned a day for the two of them to do fall things like carve a pumpkin and go to an ice cream shop in town that they hadn’t been to yet. Her mom says she is a quality time person too.

Since the big kids both moved out, I haven’t had inspiration to do anything with their rooms. Kids are even different in the way they leave the nest, one seemingly caring and cognizant of only the shirt he wears on his back. The other had an established habit of regularly and seasonally sorting through her belongings. But even with that things were left behind, including a bunk bed I no longer wanted that at one point was given to us.

So my grandmother’s guest bed is being moved up the stairs. After filling in the countries of South and East Asia I had help with moving and unbolting the bed. When I have the inspiration it’s like it needs to be done now. Dad was visiting shut-ins and doing chapel at the high school. Before returning home he stopped and filled up their van. Every day I think about how our lives have continued to change.

I can’t be stagnant as it happens. I too have to change with them. I can see the role that patience plays in letting time unfold slowly. I see my house slowly coming together in ways I couldn’t have arranged things before. I am hesitant to buy a bedspread but eager to find frames for the pictures of younger children at home. Maybe I still could do it, the scrapbooks of printed photos to live in the guestroom when any of them visit here.

I worked three and a half hours doing laundry and cleaning at the CGC. I did two in the morning and then another hour and a half before leaving for class. My son came with me in the morning and worked on school in the big room. I need to communicate more with the cleaning girl because I kind of just showed up and started doing things without warning. It’s important to be considerate and respectful of others where you work.

We only had one video for class. For our other class we had a field trip to one of the residential community health centers for adults with more severe forms of mental illness such as schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder. The man who led us around has been working with this population for almost twenty years. It was touching to see his genuine care for the people he works with and the poorer populations he serves.

Every time I come home I think, “I only need to do that x more times”. This week is officially midterm so only eight more times that are scheduled on the calendar. The boys had a meet this evening in Bement. I’m not really sad to miss the meets because I’ve accepted that this is just what has to be right now. I’m grateful for the ones I’ve been to. I plan to help out with the laundry and start with tidying up the storage areas.

My class wasn’t all that exciting tonight. For homework we had to watch several videos and then come back to discuss them. I like the discussion formats for classes but sometimes we need more prompts from the teacher. We ended up talking about gender expression and she asked us to order ourselves in a line based on where we thought we were on the continuum of masculinity and femininity. I didn’t like that.

Something about ranking and being ranked felt weird with a group of women. I said out loud to the teacher, “How are we supposed to do that??”, more in a state of being baffled rather than looking for instruction. She said we’d have to talk to each other. So I sat there while the rest of them stood up and tried to find out each other’s hobbies and find their place on the feminine-masculine line. Then they tried by personality traits.

The ones in the middle wanted to be closer to the top. Someone had to be on the masculine end so that went to the girl who said she hikes and makes sure her voice is heard. Another girl was a gamer so she went to the more masculine side. I don’t think there should’ve been a line. I think we should’ve sprinkled ourselves throughout the room in the way the stars are spread around and then just appreciated everyone.

“Becoming the Beloved is pulling the truth revealed to me from above into the ordinariness of what I am, in fact, thinking of, talking about, and doing from hour to hour.”
~Henri Nouwen, Life of the Beloved~

Lately I’ve been thinking again how it’d be nice to have a mentor. Isn’t there anyone out there who can help me get through this? Is there any woman who exists who has successfully navigated the waters of marriage, motherhood, and hormones with grace? Can I be the person that no one else was? It’s nothing against women in my life or any women that I know. I still just wish sometimes for that soothing, wise, spiritual guide.

It isn’t like we have all the time in the world here. Seven or so years ago there was the grind of daily life. Marriage was for love but it was also very practical. I started charting in the margins, “Happy in marriage”, “Happy in marriage”, on every day that it was true, which it was for the majority of days. But then there were days when it was almost like my mind turned against me, and against even my entire life. It refused to be ignored.

I’m still trying to figure this out. Because I am more than beyond convinced that there’s a 4-5 day window that reveals more to us about ourselves and our needs than any other time with a frightening accuracy. If you’re neglecting yourself, it will show up. If you are being neglected that will come around too. But whose responsibility is it to manage and process what the monster reveals? How much bait do I accept or reject?

You stay for your values, because you believe that God is against two people divorcing. You stay together for the kids, because you’ve heard that it’s best for them and both of you love these people you’ve made. You stay because there’s this fierce refusal to harm them and screw up their lives. You stay because when things are good they are actually really good, and because it’s an enormous thing not to have to earn a living for yourself.

Well even that is not enough. Because then you have kids who get married or who one day hope to do the same. And these kids who you stayed married for, they’ll get you thinking again, “Is this the kind of marriage we would want them to have?” If the answer is no it’s time to adjust. There used to be so many requirements, preferences, wishes for what I wanted marriage to be, but God’s worked it out now to peaceful and loving.

“I missed the person I had been for them, too–the younger, more capable mother who read aloud for hours, stuck raisin eyes into bear-shaped pancakes, created knight’s armor from cardboard and duct tape. Certainly my talents didn’t seem quite so impressive anymore, my company not as desirable as it once had been.”
~Katrina Kenison, The Gift of An Ordinary Day~

I feel nostalgic lately for the kids and I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it. The above line made me smile even though it sounds depressing. I sometimes wonder if I romanticize my old self, the one who read aloud for hours. I am drawn into the image like this is something that I lived and deeply recognize, but did such a person even exist? For hours? If you add up all the time, then definitely, yes. But I never would’ve tracked it.

Miles’ mom and I met for coffee at 11. We hadn’t talked since the wedding so we spent three hours catching up. It really is just vital to have those women in the same life stages where you can talk and not feel weird or crazy. I said, do you spent a lot of time lately thinking back on your life? She’d had to go to one of the local parks to take pictures, and was thinking of all the years she and her boys had visited the parks.

I’d felt the same way about the orchard. She texted her boys with her memories. I had texted my oldest with a picture saying how they all would’ve loved the additions. I don’t know why we even do this to ourselves, or to them. Dad, the boys, and I had a conversation over supper. To go from life source to the person who is buried in the texts…it doesn’t happen overnight. Somehow the arrangement still is right in my eyes.

The boys forgot their uniforms and emailed me while I was at work/Thrive. Would I be able to bring them to school somehow? The uniforms were in the laundry and they only needed them for pictures. I called Josh and asked if he could start the laundry and that I could bring their uniforms in to be there by after school. I would be home as soon as I was finished with my charting which I was very tempted to leave for later to do.

But I decided just to stay and do it. I heard the supervisor ask the desk girl if she could wipe down all of the surfaces today. One of the job duties for that position is to clean the building with the exception of the therapist offices. I saw the spreadsheet with the cleaning schedule, and even though it something I was perfectly capable of doing, there was a part of me that refused, and could not bring myself to clean for this man.

Like, as dumb as this might even sound, cleaning just felt too close to wifely duties. And I was not going to lower myself to that level and dust the shelves. Another time I was cleaning out the coffee pot after group, after Arya and I had made another pot during break. That was okay to me because it was serving the whole, and cleaning up part of my mess. He set his cup down at the sink and I thought about washing it for him.

I thought if I washed his cup that it might make him feel appreciated and connected to me. Isn’t that absolutely awful? I just left that cup sitting there and didn’t think another thing about it until later. Those couple of days when I was trying to make something work that just wasn’t, that whole experience taught me that I only clean for men I love. I will not clean for any others. It’s just part of my DNA now and that’s the way it is.

But for the ones I love I do it happily, like I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I took the clothes from the dryer and set in the front seat of the van. The boys called when school was over and asked where I was. I was parked in the parking lot folding their uniforms into individualized, neat piles. We met in the middle between the van and the school. I was so happy to see them, and after, to see my daughter only 9 minutes away.

I passed my NCE test this morning. The teacher in charge of these tests somehow got it figured out to where I could get on the roster and take the test in October. It’s a four hour test for 200 multiple choice questions. I read while I was studying that multiple choice tests are considered recognition tests. So prayed on the way there that God would help me recognize what I had learned.

And when I didn’t know an answer, that I’d be able to use my brain to make the best guess that I could, and that these two things combined would give me enough correct answers to pass. I think the studying helped me to get at least another 25 questions right so I am glad that I did that and also glad that it’s over. I texted Josh and told him, as well as two other women from LCU who I keep in touch with.

Then I called my parents while I was on my way home. The only other person I would’ve told was my grandma. I almost called my aunt but you say it enough times and it just feels like you’re bragging or making too big of a deal out of it. Josh and I went to the store and we used it as an excuse to get supper food and call it a celebratory meal. We picked out a cherry pie. They had no more peach.

This week has almost served as a fall break for school. My Monday class was cancelled. A Tuesday class was cancelled so I skipped my other one yesterday. And then today’s evening class was also cancelled due to illness the teacher said. I feel like I haven’t been doing much in the way of reflective thinking that turns up in writing. I was imagining today the dormancy of my mind turning back into something else more active.

I’m pretty sure the swimming weather is over now for the season. I look at my weather app and see only 70’s from here on out. If it turns into 80’s again in October I would still swim but I think that was probably it until next time.