Hah! I'm dealing with it better now.

Interesting to read my last post.  

In many ways, things have continued in the same vein.  For example, at church, where I volunteer as secretary, choir member and council rep, I had a huge issue with the treasurer who was uber-late in providing reports for the Annual Report.  She had a zillion excuses, sent blank documents, and otherwise tried by patience.  Finally, she blew up at me, saying she didn't know there was a deadline (posted in bulletin for over a month), and why would a secretary change her report (tried to fit it on a word document so not changed, just re-fitted), and to 'stay in my own lane'.  She even told the Board chair that I could access the church computer from my home computer and see all of her treasurer documentation.  And the Board chair believed her!!!!  When the treasurer and I met in person, she claimed I was a victim personality and tried to do some psychology (Do you have these problems in other parts of your life?)

Why do people come up with that approach?  Labelling someone a victim rather than looking at their own culpability.  Anyway, I stood my ground until she finally, reluctantly apologized.  

But this is what is different since my last post.  I'm realizing it is okay to self-protect.  Actually it is necessary.  I took a break from church and attended another one that was unbelievably uplifting.  I will attend it once a month, so will not feel so restricted by my current church.  They have suddenly started to treat me well (answering my e-mails, providing feedback, respecting my time) but that is not the purpose of attending a different church once in awhile.  The purpose is to worship fully and wholly, which I can't do when I feel wary.  

As for my husband's lack of interest, I know he has some limitations in the expression department.  On Valentine's Day, he said flowers were too expensive.  When I handed him a box of chocolates he said:  Well, I tried.  Really?  Then he said we could go out for supper sometime.  I said,  Ya...but it's always to your choice of restaurant. So...We haven't gone to my choice yet, and I doubt that we will.  BUT, I love him in spite of these thoughtless ways, recognizing his weaknesses.  And I've protected myself with my imagination.

I've got a Dick and Rick response.  When he says something thoughtless, he is Dick; something wonderful, he is Rick.  When he is Dick, I imagine a Rick response that would help me feel good.  To my happy surprise, he provides more Rick responses than I had originally thought.  I guess I had focussed on the hurt of the Dick.  

This dealing with emotional pain, recovery, self reflection...makes me quite ordinary, doesn't it?

Is This It?

Not having contemplated life for awhile, using this blog as a forum....well, this probably isn't the best day.  Husband has cancer, mom has dementia, I'm running out of pep.  Somehow I have to find strength to be rock-like for everyone else, but then I become a little dough-like instead, feeling indentations from hurts or neglect.  

The outdoor picnic table is a good example.  Last week, I let everyone know that I was going to mow the lawn.  The old green picnic table was left in the middle of it, instead of on the patio where it usually rests.  I tried to move it myself, in simple little circular motions.  However...I heard a CRACK, and...yep, a rotten leg broke.  When my husband saw it, he was mad...tossed it, and angrily announced that he had taught our grandson how to move it.(So that means I should know too?) Since then, family members have joked about me breaking the picnic table.  

So...I was trying to do something that needed doing; I communicated; I tried to be independent when I saw the table where it shouldn't be.  No one has thought that maybe the responsibility for the broken table rests on shoulders other than mine.  No one would even consider to blame anyone else....because, presumably, I can handle it.  

All aspects of my life are like that right now: I try to do things that need doing and I get ignored, criticized or blamed.  I feel beaten down.  

My marriage has never been great; certainly not the respectful companionship and partnership I originally envisioned.  Now, I am a helpmate in the cancer struggle, but not a person of interest in any other way.  Husband smiles and converses with others; not me.  He barely gives eye contact.  Once, when I was trying to get our relationship back on track, long before cancer, I reached out to hold his hand.  He pulled it away.  I've never tried since.  

My daily life is not about me...it's about service to others.  But every now and then, I need to focus on what is going on in me.  And right now, it's not so great.  Is this it?  Is this what I have to deal with for the rest of my life?  

Nearing the End

Nearing the end could mean a lot of things:  end of 2021, end of November, end of COVID (wishful thinking!) or the end of my life.  And probably all of those things.  (I'm 65 so most of my life is in the past).  

COVID has reared its ugly head higher than ever lately in our fair city.  Our counts are the very highest they've been since this all began.  Children and the homeless have been particularly hard hit.  Our church is closed again; sorority went on-line for its November meeting, and our last Bible Study was on-line as well.  I can only hope/pray that somehow this turns a corner in the right direction soon!

But this is what really prompted me to write:  I looked out the window to see one of my son's elementary school chums cleaning the end of our driveway after I told him about the 'snow boulders' left my the city's street scrapers.  Mark owns his own business, and uses a tractor and loader to clean driveways.  I remember him at school with Brent, going through some friend struggles, then going to university together (didn't last long for Mark, and too long for Brent!), and Brent standing up at his wedding, helping him with his landscaping business, and Mark's wife attending Brent's wife's baby shower.  Another of Brent's friends, this one from high school, is my dentist.

Add to that the fact that all three of my kids are parents now...Brent and Gillian had a baby boy one week ago.  Adam and Renee are excited to see their son struggling to master the art of crawling.  And Jodi and Justin are enjoying two stages...parents of a 12 year old and a 3 year old.  

The group that was once the 'kids' (my own and their crowd) are now parents, working at important jobs, caring for others, and managing productive lives.  I'm past all of that.  I'm on the outside looking in at the family-driven commerce that keeps our economy rolling.  My husband and I become the ones to whom others provide the care.  It is an interesting change.  

But...we still help our kids.  (I've been dog-sitting lately, Steve helps with odd jobs when needed).  It's just that we are the helpers, not the main do-ers any more.  That's how it is at this end of life's continuum.  

And, I guess, that is pretty ordinary!  

Good-bye 2020 (good riddance) Hello 2021 (not the great beginning we hoped for)

Oh brother...Here we go again.  Another lockdown, ending 2020 and beginning 2021.  News reports say this pandemic and repercussions should continue for most of the next year.  

So, this is my poor-me rant which I dare not say aloud, because I know that I am much luckier than most people.  I have a pension, therefore a steady income. I have family and friends, and a faith that sustains me.  But I can still feel the following:

Loss.  So much loss:  my mobility, my dog, my grandkids across a closed border, my part-time job at the Shoe Store, my worship leading schedule that has been greatly reduced, being a member on the board of Camp McDougall, holiday celebrations, my real-life book clubs, in-person meetings with ADK.  

It's not the war.  It's not a holocaust. It's not the Great Depression.  But it is my own mini-depression...walking with difficulty, no dog to pet, my husband's endless negative and critical statements about the world, plans that keep needing tweaks, news that keeps presenting negative news (a mutation of the virus!!!)  

About that sustaining faith...there are ebbs and flows...occasional dips.  I guess that just makes me ordinary.

Isolation

Well, I'm getting used to not going out too much.  Except to walk the dog, hang laundry, work in the yard.  We went for a random drive on Mother's Day -- felt like an adventure! 

Now they plan to start opening the economy, one careful step at a time.  Which means I might be back at my very part-time job at the shoe store.  Which makes me nervous. 

I like staying put.  I like contacting people through social media, taping church services, meeting on ZOOM. 

I don't like not being able to see the grandkids in person, and hug them. 

But, as for the rest of this isolation-thing.  I think it suits me.  Am I being ordinary now?

Covid Thinking

It's been over a week of not going anywhere except, very occasionally, the grocery store, and three walks a day with my dog.  My husband still goes out daily to pick up coffee, and sometimes just to drive around.  He goes to the grocery store almost every day too. 

My worship leader job is non-existent as the churches are closed.  And my one-day-a-week at the shoe store as turned into no-days-a-week.  I still take an on-line Lenten study, and participate in Grants committee meetings and Camp McDougall Board member communication. 

But my life has significantly slowed down.  I have time to think (and worry).  I pray but haven't done my usual Bible study lately.  On Sunday I read Rev. Kim's sermon, and it was a little upsetting....He picked out the plagues and deserved destruction of the Hebrew people in the Old Testament.  One edge of his sermon's sword was...we deserve this if we don't repent for ourselves and our world.  The other less sharp edge was to pray to a compassionate God.  Those two didn't seem to go together for me.  So, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. 

We don't understand in order to have faith; but have faith in order to understand. 

One thing I have really come to understand is how non essential I am:  I am not needed as a preacher, a worker, a babysitting Grandma.  So, in this stripped down version of me, I am grateful that I am a beloved child of God's grace.  The making of me by my own constructs has fallen apart.  The me that is loved and blessed by God remains.  It doesn't mean that I will survive this pandemic.  It means that I will be at peace, whatever happens. 

Just an ordinary girl living in extraordinary time. 

Religion Is Not a Dirty Word

Often, first thing in the morning, I work on reading scripture, or reading hymns and sermons by various writers, in preparation for my own message-writing.  I love it.  It centers me and makes me more God-oriented throughout the day.  I am such a flawed individual, and I often lie awake at night thinking about the wrongs I have committed and the absence of enough rights.  But when I turn to prayer and scripture, I am enveloped in the peace and love of Christ.

How do people live without that?  How do people exist in thinking that humankind or science or nature or wealth or knowledge are the highest orders in society?

Young people are not attending the mainstream church to which I belong.  Out in the world, I hear anti-religious sentiments.  We are antiquated, and hypocrites, and unnecessary.  Even people my age attend occasionally but without commitment and finding easy ways out (hurt feelings, too busy, I don't need church to be spiritual). 

Yet, this is what a church can offer:  It can help you think and examine spirituality.  It can provide a multi-generational community with a sense of neighbourliness and love.  It can raise up common goals.  It can be fun as you work and sing and give together.  It can dish up a sea of humanity that is a microcosm of what you see in the world and help you learn to accept and love in spite of yourself.  And church, through sermons and Bible studies, can help you understand the Bible in a way that will impact so many aspects of your life. 

I am not always uplifted by a particular sermon or Bible reading or Sunday experience. That's on me. But, when I keep attending church, when I keep reading scripture, when I keep singing the hymns and when I keep reading and conversing about God, I know that insights will come, joy will surge and hope will become constant. 

How do people live without that?