Taking Them for Granted...

I was thinking this week about how fast you can lose someone you love.  Life changes so rapidly.  What you have today could be gone tomorrow.  God gives us no guarantees that we will have the people we love for as long as we want them. 

I find myself taking my family and friends for granted.  "Take for granted".  What does that even mean?  I am just thinking this out...  When I hear the word "granted", I think of a wish.  As in, "your wish has been granted!"  As in, you have what you always wanted.  So if you have what you wanted, and you take them "for granted", it seems it means that you assume they are yours.  Your possessions.  A part of your life that you get to keep.

I can find no such guarantee or promise.  Kim is not mine, neither is Jacob.  I can't own anyone, not really even my dogs!  They are here on loan to me, as I am on loan to them.  Who will go first?  Who will be left behind, the last person standing?  As a parent, I pray that is Jacob, and that God will "loan" lots of other precious people to him.  So that when someone gets called home, he will have others with him to comfort him.

My thoughts wander back to "the last person standing".  That thought takes me right to my Grams.  She is 90 years old now.  Her husband died over 20 years ago.  Her friends have all passed away.  Lee and Rudy, Vick and Thelma, Pete and Marge.  Lots of others.  All gone before her.  Now she is alone with her children, four of them.  Her grandchildren, 10, I think.  Her Great-grandchildren, I know of 17.  And even two Great-great-grandchildren, maybe more.  And yet she feels so alone.  She is wealthy beyond reason, if her offspring are her treasure.  She has a very rich legacy.  I wish she could see that, and feel blessed.

So back to the "taking for granted" thought.  I want to remember how blessed I am to have such wonderful people in my life.  My family, my friends, even my silly dogs!  I have a rich legacy, too!  I am thankful for all that God has loaned me.  I don't know how long I get to have you on loan, but whoever you are, I am thankful for your part in my life.  Thank you for helping me build a legacy.  If I check out before you do, just be happy that we got a chance to be family, or friends.  We are blessed.               

Ouch!

I hate it when I notice qualities about myself that are unattractive that I never noticed before.  Even worse, when someone else points it out to you.  It sure hurts to look at yourself and see painful, ugly qualities that you have stubbornly refused to see for a long time.  That deep, raw look you take in the mirror can be brutal.  And for me, just the thought that other people could see it so clearly, and I couldn't feels so awful.  It makes my heart hurt, or maybe my pride hurt, to think about what I was doing.

But isn't a good hard look at yourself pretty important?  No matter how ugly your reflection is, I think you have to do it now and then.  Maybe you need someone to prod you, like I did.  Someone to nudge and poke you into seeing what they see.  Or maybe even throw it at you in a moment of painful confrontation.  What everyone can see.  Everyone but you.  But me.

It hurts to know that I have qualities that ugly.  I get to thinking sometimes that I am good enough.  That I am better than average.   Just another reminder that there was only EVER one perfect person.  I know I will be forgiven, and I am thankful, but still just feeling a little bruised.  

School Days...

My last post was about Summer.  Well, it is still Summer.  I just can't seem to summon any sort of enthusiasm about it any more.  I am so ready for September, October and November.  Those are my favorite months of the year.

School starts tomorrow.  The first day, of the last year of Jacob's Tulsa Public Schools education.  Seems like it was just a few years ago that I was holding his hand on the way into Kindergarten at Hoover.  Time flies.  He is mostly grown up now.  Just by appearances he is fully grown.  But I know he still has some growing to do.  He will be 18 in just a little over a month.  That will be the end of an era for me as a mom.  I have been trying to let go of some of my control.  But I still want to be the boss of everything.  Such a struggle for me.  I picked out his clothes for the first day of Kindergarten.  Now there is so little that I choose for him.

I wonder if he would let me choose his outfit for tomorrow?  Ha!  I wonder if he would be embarrassed that I called it an "outfit".  No doubt, it will be t-shirt and shorts.  Poor kid.  His bad mom did not order him any new school shoes yet.  You would think after 18 years, I could get that right for his Senior year!   Starting the senior year Holy is one thing but with holey shoes is quite another.  I guess he will survive.

I am feeling sadder about it than I thought I would.  I am not one to get too sentimental about stuff like this.  But he is my one and only child.  This will be our last year like this.  With me in charge.  Am I really moping about him growing up, or about losing someone I could control? 


  

Summer Thoughts...

Summer has officially begun.  I can sure tell.  The heat is on, and everyone is traveling or making plans to travel.  That alone makes this time of year exciting.  However, sometimes it seems more like my family is all making plans to go our seperate ways.  I suppose that is all a part of Jacob growing up.  When he was little, I would never dream of going away for any length of time without him.  Or if I did take a short trip, it would be excruciating.  So far this summer, Jacob is heading out to Texas for a few weeks.  I am going to Pennsylvania for a few days, then off to Texas to fetch the boy.  There is no telling what else will crop up.  Summer is still young.  Maybe Kim and I can find some time to get away somewhere cooler. 

Since I did not grow up in a traditional American family.  I never had the chance to experience the "family vacation" I have heard others describe.  Packing up the station wagon and loading the kids in for a trip to Yellowstone, or the Grand Canyon.  I feel like I missed out since I didn't get the chance to bicker with my siblings in the back seat.  You may roll your eyes and say that I did not miss much, but I bet those memories are precious to you.  They should be.  I feel like I may have missed out on something crucial, something that I can't share with Jacob.  I guess that is ok.  I have other, more important things to share.

I was thinking some deep thoughts lately about child abuse.  Do the scars that are left from the absence of somthing leave as deep damage and shape us as much as the scars left from actual impact?  Who hurts worse?  The child who was physically abused, or the child who was neglected?  I don't know.  Is there really a "worse" in a situation like that?   I have known both kinds of kids.  I don't really classify myself as either.  I had some bad moments in childhood, it you might even call my childhood tragic.  But I don't think I was ever really abused.  But I saw it.  I lived with it.  It slept in the same house.  Both kinds. Both are ugly and damaging.  Deeply damaging.  One of those bad gifts that keep on giving.   

Probably if you were a victim of one or the other you would think it was whatever you experienced.  My siblings and I were neglected a bit by our mother, who was mentally ill.  But it never felt like she abandoned us.  I feel that she always loved us.  I never once doubted that.  Our Grandparents loved us.  Their home was a safe haven of food, and attention.  My father deserted us and I don't believe he loved us, but since I never knew his presence I don't think I missed it much.  At least not until it was time to make an adult relationship of my own.  Missing out on a father made me confused and awkward.  I floundered.  I wonder if is the same for boys who don't have a mother?  Thank God, Jacob has both.  We are so flawed, but both present in his life.   Hopefully that will be a better gift, and hopefully Jacob can pay it forward in an even better way to his child or children.

Well this was sort of RANDOM and depressing as I read back over it.  But at least I posted.  That means I won, again!      

Nothing to say....

I finally have my computer back.  I have all evening to think of something to say.  But I have nothing to say.  This is so..... underwhelming.  I guess I'll just say.... later.  But at leasted I blogged.  So, I won at that.  Write that down.  I won.

The Pretender

My sister, Debbie, posted this a while back on her blog.  These are her words about our experience growing up in a children's home.

We had food, a roof over our head and a bed to sleep in, the things that would keep a child’s body safe.

The ones that could have been our examples went in their room each night and shut their door. They closed up their hearts and left us to cling to each other.

We were wounded and broken. We were not shown our individual value.

All of us had dreams, some were grand but most were simple.

It was our spirits that begged for attention. We knew they never expected us to succeed.

We were all scattered at different times to different places. It has been amazing when we find each other again. There is a joy that we feel to know that another of us made it out.

We all have heard the same response when people hear our story. “You seem so normal to have had such a horrible childhood.” But we are not normal.

We just became very good at hiding our pain. No matter how hard we try to cover up where we came from it cannot be changed. We were the unwanted. No matter what we succeed at we never believe we are good enough. How can we be? We were the thrown away trash.

The strong personalities and the stubborn will are the tools we used to pull us up so we could show everyone that we do have value. It started as a front to show the world. It becomes a wall that we make everyone face, even the ones we love.

Debbie hit the nail on the head.  Sometimes I feel like a survivor of some sort of tragedy.  I can only imagine a small piece of what others feel who also go without food and shelter.  At least we had that. 

But don't all kids deserve just that little bit more?  Don't they deserve to be held accountable for their choices, and be asked to rise to a certain level of behavior and achievement?  Would it be so hard to listen to what they say?  I feel like the bar was set really low for us.  So when someone gets to know me and they notice that I can hold down a job they are amazed. 

What might have happened if someone had cared just a little more?  Asked me how my day was? Quizzed me on my times tables for math?  Heck, maybe even gave me a hug?  Maybe I wouldn't think that I have to solve all my problems myself, alone, without even God to count on.  Maybe I would be able to do mental math instead of counting on my fingers (sneakily).  Maybe my physical personal space would not have to be quite so big. 

Am I stronger?  I don't know.  Probably not.  I am just a really good pretender.       

100 things about me....

This was inspired by my friend Nellie.  It was hard, too!

You should try it!

1.       I do not like to exercise.  But recently started doing it anyway.

2.       I love food.  Eating makes me happy, soothes me, cheers me, and comforts me.

3.       I love to read more than almost anything.  Only fiction.

4.       I have a wonderful supportive husband, Kim.  He is just right for me.

5.       I have a son, Jacob who is 17.  He amazes me and makes me laugh.

6.       I do not like chocolate cake.  NO.THANK.YOU.

7.       Nothing smells better to me than baking bread.

8.       Breaking an addiction to QT Vanilla Cupcake cappuccino almost broke me.

9.       God has been my friend for many years.

10.   I love people, but strongly suspect that people secretly don’t like me.

11.   I stupidly worry a lot about what people think about me.

12.   I have 3 dogs, two are big, Bonnie and Clyde, one is smallish, Pixie.

13.   My Grandmother is 89. She has had a hard life, but just keeps going.

14.   I have an older brother and sister, 3 half brothers and 2 foster brothers.

15.   I lived in a children’s home from Second grade through 5^th grade.

16.   I lived in a foster home from 6^th grade until I graduated from High School.

17.   I really wish I could be a homemaker.

18.   My foster mother was amazing lady.  I would love the chance for one more day with her.

19.   Burgundy/Maroon is my favorite color.

20.   The number 25 is my favorite number.

21.   I regret that I haven’t had the chance to get to know my brother’s kids in Pennsylvania.

22.   I love babies.  Sigh.  I really do.

23.   My favorite season is Fall.  The trees and the colors just make me so happy.

24.   I am constantly amazed at how God has moved in my life.

25.   I have secrets.

26.   My sister, Debbie is amazing.  I love her with all my heart.

27.   I played basketball in high school and fantasize about playing again.

28.   I was a really bad basketball player, but in my mind, I was awesome.

29.   It really hurts me when people who I thought loved me walk away.

30.   Sometimes I forget to be careful of other’s feelings.

31.   Coffee on a cold morning is a comfort, but only if I have cream and sugar!

32.   I get really grouchy when I get hot.

33.   My senior year of high school really was one of the best years of my life.

34.   I love to knit, sew, cook, embroider, or just anything creative.

35.   Mean people make me very angry.

36.   I very often forget to pray.  My focus is weak.

37.   Studying other religions is fascinating to me.

38.   When I see an old house, I want to know the story of its life. Who lived there, when and why?

39.   Most of the people in my family are very mischievous, I am no exception.

40.   I like to make people laugh, but often get carried away.

41.   I desperately want to be a light for God, but worry that more often I cast shadows.

42.   I have very little will power when it comes to my diet.

43.   I won’t show my toenails unless they have been painted.

44.   I used to KNOW I was smart, now I KNOW how little I will ever know or understand.

45.   I often feel helpless and frustrated.

46.   I have a lot of questions for God.  Just a lot.  

47.   I usually think that you need to know what I think.  So it pops right out of my mouth.

48.   Pasta, pasta, pasta.  I love you pasta.

49.   I crave security.

50.   I don’t care what kind of car you drive.  It surprises me that people think anyone cares.

51.   In my dreams, I can fly.

52.   My father is still living, but I have not seen him or spoken to him in over 20 years.

53.   I am not afraid to die.  But I don’t want any pain.  Ha!

54.   I do not like artificial sweetener.

55.   I love Sharpies.

56.   My mother lives in a nursing home.

57.   I am not afraid of germs.  Bring it!

58.   Rolo’s are my drug of choice.

59.   Bacon. 

60.   I flipped off Santa when I was a child.

61.   I love Survivor, the television show.

62.   Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

63.   I am extremely allergic to poison ivy and get it nearly once a year.

64.   Sock monkeys creep me out.  They are the “Chuckie” of stuffed animals.

65.   I can’t grow stuff.  I kill plants.

66.   My mother has schizophrenia and I am afraid sometimes that I do too, and no one is telling me.

67.   I do not visit my mother as often as I should, this produces guilt.

68.   Baby giggles, OH YEAH!

69.   I don’t like to be late, and rarely am.

70.   I like thunder storms.

71.   My finances depress me.

72.   I do not like being tall.

73.   I am very loyal.

74.   I am ashamed of my house.

75.   I think it is creepy when people say “sexy”.

76.   I sneeze a lot.  No, really, a lot.

77.   I usually cry every time I think about my foster mom. There, just teared up typing this.

78.   I like to go shopping.

79.   Cinderella was my favorite story as a child.

80.   My name is not Lisa.

81.   I love country music.

82.   I find myself attracted like a magnet to funny people.

83.   I like the smell of Liquid Paper.

84.   My best friend lives in Texas.  I miss her.

85.   Sometimes I text and drive.

86.   I love to travel.

87.   I have to doodle when I am on the phone, or listening to people talk.

88.   I do not like to drink from a plastic cup unless I have a straw.

89.   I could easily eat potatoes with every meal.

90.   I am so happy we have email.

91.   I have little ears.

92.   Sometimes if I get really mad, I throw stuff.

93.   I am very sad that Jacob does not like to read.

94.   I know I have a guardian angel, and he is good at what he does.

95.   I try really hard not to have an “entitled” attitude, but sometimes, I think I deserve more.

96.   I have disappointed many people in my life, and that breaks my heart.

97.   I wish I could go back to college.

98.   I like to talk to elderly people about their lives.

99.   I love prairie stories, like Little House on the Prairie.      

100.  I like to draw pictures.