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?

Terrible Two

I love my youngest grandson very much.  I shouldn't have to say that, but right now I am reminding myself. 

He isn't two years old YET, but he is displaying some of the mindset of a two-year-old.  You know --- independence, opposition, and methods of getting one's own way that are both wily and darned cute! 

Today I babysat.  And I think I did a terrible job.  He terrorized the dog, threw things around, and screamed 'no' a lot. 

I tried to take a firm and calm approach. 

The good news --- we made it to the end of the day, still loving each other, still relatively happy.  He ate, he slept, he pooped, he played, he danced, he climbed, he hopped, he smiled and laughed a lot. 

Maybe I didn't do such a bad job after all...

Young Again? No Thanks.

I guess I'm not young any more.  The last time I went to the movies, I was given the Senior price automatically...no questions asked.  And I even dye my hair.  But that doesn't erase the wrinkles, I guess.

Youth is wonderful.  Mom just gave me a picture of me and my firstborn when he was only a few months old.  We both looked great.  I was slim and surprisingly pretty. 

Yet, I am happy that I don't have to go through that whole youth thing again.  I hear my 10-year-old grandson stress about friend issues.  Today's news is all about a 16-year-old in Hamilton, Ontario who was knifed in front of his mother, the presumed end result of relentless bullying.  I also know a few young girls who suffer from eating disorders.  It seems that growing up has so many challenges that the young people aren't getting the chance to realize that "Youth is wonderful". 

I am so happy that my children, now young adults, have made it past their teens.  And, so far, they aren't addicted to drugs, booze, money, sex, over-spending or any other debilitating addiction. All three have found partners who fit in with their values and lifestyles.  Now, I just have to start worrying about the next generation.

No thanks...I might have wrinkles, aches and pains, and graying hair, but I wouldn't swap that for another go at youth.  No way.  Being young is way too challenging. 

Bottom line:  I like being an ordinary OLD girl.

Beauty

Whenever I talk about our recent trip to the East Coast, I precede the word trip with the descriptor:  'whirlwind'.  We drove a lot, saw a lot, ate a lot, visited a lot, and laughed a lot.  Our friends did the planning and the driving, and my husband and I relaxed into the beauty of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, without the tensions of figuring out how to get places. 

The Cabot Trail, Peggy's Cove, Cape Enrage, St. Andrew's, covered bridges, ocean tides, east coast architecture, fishing and sailing boats -- all outstandingly beautiful.  I snapped many pictures, trying to capture some of the awesomeness surrounding me. 

But it is a different kind of beauty that struck me most.  Everyone I met, whether someone addressing me as a tourist, or in casual conversation snatched during a walk, was unfailingly polite, interested, kind.  One example was when we walked around the citadel in Halifax, we were talking about various excursions we had made or were planning to make.  We moved to the side of the path as we heard the approach of a jogger.  The jogger slowed down, asked us about our experience as tourists, and then walked alongside us to answer questions and provide insights about his city.  Turns out he was the deputy chief of police!  And he took the time to engage in conversation. 

Yesterday, I was sharing some of my Down East experiences with a friend.  She commented that she had loved the people she met.  In particular, she felt trusted. There was an openness and innocence in the people she met.

Whether talking to the staff at Fort Louisbourg or the fisheries museum in Lunenburg, or the servers at restaurants, everyone I met was open, knowledgeable, and interested in both sharing and engaging.  I felt like I was living a pre-cell-phone life, where cell phones seem to be used to avoid face-to-face engagement. 

I guess this is nothing new really...taking about the beauty of the scenery and the people of the East Coast.  But it bears revisiting and repeating.  Ordinary observations from an ordinary girl. 

What do I need?

I am resigning from a particular Board of Directors on October 1st and I have given my notice.  I am resigning for a number of reasons, but these last few months help me to see the Board in a different way.

I am the secretary and I have another key role that involves hiring staff.  It has been a real learning curve, and I feel that I have done a good job.  However, the chair of the Board often ignores my ideas, or speaks crossly to me when I have a question or idea.  She doesn't do this with everyone.  On the agenda, it has always been quite obvious that she puts me last in the scheme of things, going so far as to try to put me off when I was requesting input for the Annual Meeting.  If I said 'black', she would say 'white'.  She enforces 'rules' with me that she does not expect from anyone else.  For example, if I paid for advertising with my credit card and then asked to be reimbursed, I was chastised for doing something unprofessional.  (I was never given any other option for paying though!)  If I remind her that I should have signing authority at the bank as per the by-laws, she questions the by-laws and asks me to send her my copy because I must somehow have an old copy. 

So, one good thing about my resignation will be that someone who can get along with her may step up and things will run more smoothly. 

I can't help but wonder why this working relationship has dissolved.  Would I have needed more charisma?  A more confident, forceful personality? 

This has happened to me before in other cases, and I really wonder what it is about me that ticks people off sometimes.  I find this whole thing unfortunate because I have an impulse towards working for the best possible outcomes.  Yet, the impulse does not yield to influence. 

This ordinary girl feels a little like a failure, and I am wondering what I need to do or be in order to do good works in my sphere of influence. 

Crippling Doubt

We have been told that critical thinking is good...It is a higher order of brain power.  Journalists, critics, politicians, conversationalists all employ an analytical view of institutions and events. 

The other day, while walking my dog, I heard sirens from the nearby fire station.  Then I saw the truck racing by, lights flashing.  I used to have a particular thought when I saw a firetruck, or ambulance, or police car.  I used to be concerned for the person or persons in need of emergency help.  I used to deliver a prayer that it was not one in my circle of family or friends, because I didn't want them to be suffering. 

That is not my thought this particular day.  Instead, I wondered if these first responders were actually going to do anything, besides spend taxpayer money, while they made a show of being there whereas it was really the also-responding ambulance or police who would be most necessary. I wondered if three sirenned vehicles would be  necessary for this particular call.  And couldn't some discernment take place at some level in the interest of efficiency.

Then I realized that I had lost faith in a basic community service.  One that I used to teach about to Grade One students with a certain amount of reverence and respect.  What happened?

I have begun to doubt our political institutions and parties, other community services, the motives of the very rich, the deception of the poor, and the strident demands of various ethnic groups.  I even doubt aspects of my church.  Doubt can produce anxiety, a sort of feeling of always trying to stand in a balanced way on sand that is continually shifting. 

I run the risk of becoming crippled by my doubt when I lose balance on that shifting sand.  Critical thinking has not been influenced by positive and loving action.  Critical thinking has not led to individual responsibility and overall accountability.  It just natters away, weakening our faith, and bruising our souls. 

But there is nothing really wrong with thinking about things in an analytic or critical fashion.  What's wrong is that we took a loving, selfless, inviting God out of the equation.  We put ourselves in as the master thinkers.

Maybe it's time to change that, says this ordinary girl.

 

Ordinary Senior

Today, I am not an ordinary girl at all, but an ordinary senior citizen, prone to forgetfulness and sometimes miscues. 

I posted on Facebook about my daughter picking up her son from our house...but I posted the wrong name!  I posted the 9-year-old's name rather than the baby's name. 

Someone from a local church called me...twice...to book me to lead worship at his church.  He asked me the same questions, and seemed to have forgotten the first call, when we actually did a couple of bookings. 

My husband made himself a lunch today and headed off to our shore property.  A little while later, I discovered that he had left the stove burner on. 

I corrected an official's spelling of my last name, but tried to let them know that I wasn't upset about it....a miscue....They responded in a very defensive way. 

Sigh.  It will get worse.  How's that for ordinary?

Wolves of Various Kinds

Babysitting our two grandkids was fun, rewarding, and turned out to have an interesting side effect.  One night the three dogs kicked up quite a fuss.  The next day, we discovered three deer carcasses in the back yard.  The following days we were treated to a display of predatory birds chowing down -- including three bald eagles.  It was quite fun to watch.  Grandson number one took pictures of the dead deer (fascinated by the innards!).  My husband snowshoed out to the scene of the crime and discovered many HUGE canine footprints.  We are pretty sure it was wolves, not coyotes that did the deed. 

That's one kind of wolf.  The other is the people kind.  Churches can attract all kinds of people, of course...and all should be welcome and feel loved.  However, when some decide to cause trouble, and tell lies about others, it might be time to get tough.  The perfect Christian world of my head and heart doesn't always exist in reality.  So, I will spend less time with that wolf-in-sheep's-clothing.  And time to not buy into that person's narrative. 

I prefer the wild wolf variety.  Although both cause pain and drama.

I'm having an ordinary girl reaction to difficult situations. 

End of Freedom as I Know It

The title tells exactly how I feel, although there is a dollop of guilt added to that feeling.  You see, I am soon to become the main babysitter for the grandkids, whom I love very much.  But I will be sort of on-call...without being able to determine my own schedule.  I think I'm being selfish here; hence the guilt. 

When I retired, I made myself follow routines and schedules, which included going for breakfast with friends, working at a School Breakfast program, following a set schedule of volunteer duties, visiting Mom, and spending time with Grandkids.  Then there was my little LLWL job and fitting in the time to write church services and then lead those same services.  Soon I started to resent the schedule.  I dropped a few things so that I could start each day in a slow and casual way, with as many cups of coffee as I could stomach. 

I've enjoyed this version of the retired life.  I started working one day a week (or less) at a shoe store.  I do a couple of church services each month.  I babysit when needed.  But, at the moment, I have lots of time to read, catch up on t.v. shows and Netflix, participate in Bible studies and sometimes even go for supper or coffee with friends.  It's a good life.

That changes next week.  I have three invites for out-of-town events (pig-roast, wedding and family reunion), and I can't commit to any of them.  I know kids grow up fast, and this will seem like the blink of an eye someday.  And I am so lucky to be an important part of their lives. But there is still a little angst about this particular change in my life.

Love, child-care and guilt....My early days of parenthood all over again.

How's that for ordinary? 

Extraordinary? Not a chance.

I did a Google search of blogs called "Just an ordinary girl" and there are a few.  A few also go so far as to say they are tending to have an extraordinary life, and they post exotic pictures from around the world, and recount exciting events.  Okay....that is not ordinary at all.  I am ordinary!

I led worship at a two-point charge yesterday.  The weather was bitterly cold but I was pleasantly surprised by the numbers of congregants at each church.  We are tough in this northern clime! 

I was quite nervous about the message, although parts of it really appealed to me (explaining 'bully pulpit', giving examples of not understanding something because of perspective).  It dipped into politics a bit and I had been warned that some people, although we live in Canada, are strong supporters of the current American president.  Also, I was going to hearken back to a controversial city council vote known as 'English only' that actually had people leave the church because they had interpreted the minister's message as 'taking sides', and to them...he was taking the wrong side! 

So I was addressing all of this by countering it with the politics of Christ, and that is where our allegiance lies.  I said that the church pulpit is not a place for personal political opinions.  I would rather think it is a teaching platform, encouraging understanding and further study of Jesus' ministry so that people can apply those principles to their own lives and their demands of politicians.  Sometimes, of course, that would mean becoming more politically involved...but I don't think that is something that comes from the pulpit!  But it might be inspired from the pulpit. 

Today, I finished the missing part of a grant application to support camp jobs.  I lay in bed for a long time, fearing and dreading this task.  And I prayed that God would help me have a better, more loving, more committed attitude to the task.  And it worked!  I got it done, and it wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it would be. 

Cold, cold, cold today....minus 30 Celsius.  I am drinking tea, wrapped in a blanket and about to head back to my book.  (memoir by Nancy Reagan). It's better than being outside dwarfed by snowbanks!

How's that for ordinary?

Musings from an ordinary girl turned old goat

What was I thinking to call this 'just an ordinary girl'?  What dream was I dreaming to call myself a girl???  I have graying hair, an expanding waist, two grand kids, and more years behind me than ahead of me. 

But I am ordinary. 

Right now I'm worried about all of the ordinary older people like me that keep our churches going.  Where are the young people?  They tend to go for the evangelical, not main-stream churches. 

This is interesting:  I went to a church with some young people last summer and they explained that they like it because the minister deals with real life stuff, even internet and social media. 

Well, I am a Licensed Lay Worship Leader for The United Church of Canada.  I am often talking about real life stuff, connecting scripture to our political world, our everyday cares, our joys and our sorrows. 

Next Sunday, I address a misconception I had about the term 'bully pulpit' based on how the term is currently being used, or misused. 

I have delivered some sermons that people really like, but they are to congregations of 9 to 40 people.  I really want to instil hope, and faith, believing as I do that our Christian faith can offer the hope, faith and guidance our young people (and old ordinary girls like me) desperately need. 

So...why do people stay away from church?  I find it uplifting and inspiring.  Yes, sometimes the people are hurtful or thoughtless...Any group of people runs the risk of discord.  But the higher calling that God provides helps us get over that. 

Just the musings of an old goat, who pretends to be an ordinary girl.

How's that for ordinary?

Where did the time go?

Less than a month until Christmas!  It's time to start panicking.  Christimas should be fun, right?  Not about buying the right gift, decorating, stressing. 

I'm back to work since my last post.  I teach twenty-one SK/Grade 1 students.  And I LOVE my job.  The kids have lots of baggage (hard to believe of 4,5 and 6 year olds but it's very true), but have risen above their life circumstances to be kind, caring, loving little people.  I'm very lucky.  Also, I feel that I am actually teaching this year, not just managing behaviours.  So that's a bonus.  There are two runners in the class, that I try to corral a little so that they don't leave the building.  So far, so good. 

I also have a beautiful little dog now that I didn't have in early August.  Her name is Faith and she is a miniature Schnauzer.  Which reminds me...guess I'd better take her out for a walk.

How's that for ordinary?

Sundays.

This ordinary girl goes to church on Sundays.  What isn't ordinary is that my husband and I attend different churches:  He's Roman Catholic and I belong to the United Church.  Mom came with me today.  A little girl was baptized and she was SO adorable.  She danced and hummed to the hymns and tried to play with the water in the baptismal font.  I love the questions that our minister asked the parents and the congregation as part of the service.  Not only do we reaffirm our faith, but we make a commitment and a promise to pray for the little girl and her family and to support her in her faith.  Unfortunately, her family doesn't come regularly.  In fact, I've never seen them before.  How do we support someone we don't know? 

I'm still cleaning and freezing blueberries.  I made a blueberry cheesecake for a family get-together down on St. Joe's Island.  The cake was practically inhaled.  I should have made two!

How's that for an ordinary day?

Seeing Blue

On this, my second day of being an ordinary girl, I went blueberry picking with my husband and two friends.  We drove for almost 3 hours to get to our favourite blueberry patch (Wawa Ontario).  We picked for about half an hour, sat out and ate lunch during a wicked rain, thunder and lightning storm, and then picked for a few more hours.  We got over 20 litres. Ate supper in Batchewana on the way back. We've been picking over the berries, freezing and packaging them ever since. We'll need to finish tomorrow....I'm getting sleepy. 

How's that for an ordinary day?