Morning Run.

A little pictogram of my attempt at shaking this funk with a morning run.  5 miles later and I think I won't scratch my own eyes out.  Successful?  Maybe.....

 Burbank Creek.

Loud today.

 This is the rock where I stop to pee.  Hello, but birthing four babies makes me have to pee when I run.  Duh.

 Foggy woods.

 Hill from Hell.  This thing goes on for a mile.  It's great coming down but hell going up.

 Coming up the hill and the sun starts peeking through.

 Almost home and there is sun!

 I felt that this photograph was a perfect depiction of my life in its current state.  Irony?  Perhaps.

The end.  Home.

There Are Days.

And this is has been one of those days.

I don't know what sets them in motion.  There probably isn't even a "Thing" that is the catalyst for these days.  All I know is they are claustrophobic.  And drowning.  And stifling.  All at the same time.

I look around and cannot figure out how to do the next thing.  There are all these people who need me to be there for them and I just don't want to.  How bad is that?!  I'm a Mom and I don't want to feed my children?  I want to block out the typical children noises that they bring into my house and sit in quiet instead.  I don't want to be present.  What I need is a break from the monotony that is my world.  How did I find joy and contentment in this same monotony that was before?

It's all so confusing.

I forget.  I cannot focus.  There is no joy.  No peace.

Just me.  Alone.  With a whole lot of responsibilities and decisions to make and no one to help me.

It's Christmas and there is no one to go shopping with me, so I just don't do it.  There is no one to tell me that my fudge is delicious, so I don't cook.  There is no one to tell me that my decorations look nice, so I don't decorate.  There is no one to snuggle in bed with and look at the lights on the Christmas tree, so I just unplug them.  No one.  No one.

That must be my motto for the coming new year.

Fear vs. Worry.

This past year has not been a very good year.  Definitely NOT ranking in the top ten best years of my life.

Let's be honesty here, shall we?  This year has been hell.  Smoking, burning, painful, stifling hell.  No way around it.

I have lived out my worst fear.  The sudden unexpectedness of Bill's death was the truest manifestation of the greatest fear in my life.  Far greater than the fear of my own death or even the death of one of our kids.  

My worst fear.  So now, I ask you, what else is there to fear?

Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

There is nothing in this life that I fear anymore.  Now don't go mistaking my lack of fear for lack of worry.  I'll talk about that in a minute because I have plenty of worries.  But there is no fear.

I don't fear any one's opinion of me.  I don't fear failure or imperfection.  I don't fear looking foolish or being judged or rejected.  I am not afraid to live in the moment.  I am not afraid to be different.  I certainly am not afraid to express myself.

Life is way too short (trust me on this one) to live in fear.   How often do we let an opportunity go right on by us simply because we are too paralyzed by fear to grasp the chance to truly live?

Real quick, though, I want to explain that I still worry.  Heck, I worry about everything!  Like, how am I going to raise these kids by myself?  What's going to happen if I get sick?  What happens when the money runs out?  Do I have employable skills so I can work?  What if my car breaks down? What if I turn into a crazy-haired old lady who tromps around in her pajamas and muck boots whilst a herd of cats follows on my heels?  (Shhhh.  That one might already be kind of true and it sounds an awful lot like Eileen Dozler!  Good grief, I am Eileen!) So you see, I worry about lots of things, but I'm not frightened by those worries.  Inconvenienced is more like it.  Frustrated maybe.  Annoyed even.  But not fearful.

What does living without fear look life then?  Well I suppose it looks different for every person.  For me, there are many examples that I can come up with:  I will not hide my feelings and I will not apologize for honesty.  I will tell people that they are important to me and that I care about them.  I will not put off having friends over.  I will eat the peppermint Blizzards for dinner (or breakfast--who am I kidding).  I will learn to hunt and fly fish.  I will remove the hook from a fish's mouth and bait that damn hook by myself.  I will take a ride in the mountains and not be afraid of falling off the road. I will not be too busy to have fun.  I will not martyr myself for any one's benefit.  I will float the river with the kids next summer.  I will not hide.  I will look forward and not shield my eyes from the reality that presents itself.  

Even when I cannot see clearly.

Thanksgiving. Or Giving Thanks.

As I sit at the table in the familiar kitchen of the house where my (large) extended family has spent the past many Thanksgiving holidays celebrating together,  I am struck by how the familiar can exist in the same space as the new.  How the same old jokes and stories can coincide with the obvious hole that now is such a prominent feature in my life.  It's odd really.

Within any family, there are always additions and losses to factor into each passing year.  That's part of life.  I know that.

I just don't necessary like it.

To be honest, completely honest, I don't feel like celebrating or being thankful this year, even though I do know that I have plenty to be thankful for.  Maybe it will just be one year that I feel like this, maybe it will be a few years.  I don't have the answer.  But I do know that no amount of playing with words to create a nicer sounding response or pretending that I'm full of strength and hope or even verbiage that creates the illusion of joy is going to be the answer.  I respect the characteristics of honesty and transparency way too much to do otherwise.

So here, in this space, you will only read words of reality.

So, what the heck am I thankful for this year?

Well, obviously I am most thankful for the years I did have with Bill.  I loved, most of all, creating our family and our world together.  I am thankful for all of those experiences and memories.

I am grateful for my family.  The understanding, the guidance and help, and the acceptance of us has been the hidden blessing of the past year.  There are no words to express my gratitude.  Each one, in their own way, has tried to help me carry this load.  Each one has done so quietly and without need of recognition.

I am thankful for the strangers who have become my friends.  People who have graciously and repeatedly shown my family what love is.  With words, deeds, or sometimes even financially--these people are amazing.  Bill would be so impressed and proud to call you his friends too.

Who else?  Well, certainly my Baker City sisters.  If I ever were to relocate, I think it would be to Baker.  These ladies have generously adopted my family as one of their own and blessed us with a monthly gift of encouragement.  Amazing I tell you.  Just amazing.

I am thankful for our community.  Seriously, never let anyone speak poorly of the Canyon area.  Time and again my family has been shown incredible kindness by members of this community.   Churches, youth sports organizations, school district employees, local business owners, even people I don't even know have all renewed my faith that people are inherently good.

I am thankful for my friends.  Some are old and some are new.  And it doesn't matter which one is which anymore.  There are friends who stayed with me in the hospital and friends who didn't leave my side for months afterwards.  Friends who shared tea and wine with me and friends who just listened.  Friends who walked with me (quite literally) and friends who helped me fix things that were broken.  There were friends who helped with my kids and those who made me laugh.  There were definitely friends who ignored my bouts of insanity and encouraged me to just focus on the next thing.  I have friends who have allowed me to be forgetful and who have not been offended by my behavior.  Friends have shown me forgiveness and understanding time and again.

To me, the definition of a friend is simply a person who is willing to come alongside of you and help to shoulder your burdens.  It is someone who does not require perfection and is willing to overlook your shortcomings.  It is someone who can, at least temporarily, put another person's needs above their own.

The past year I have lived in my worst nightmare.  There is no denying that.   But through the grief and adversity and fear I have learned exactly what is most paramount in life.  It's not stuff or money.  It's not cars and houses and fancy clothes.  It's people.  And the relationships that we create and grow with those people.

For that lesson, I am thankful.

Me and Ozzy Are Together

Riding on that Crazy Train.  Yep, that should definitely be my theme song right now.

Want to hear about my crazy?  Sure you do.

So my neighbor comes into the post office last week.  Nothing unusual about that--the guy has to pick up his mail and everything.  I'm in the back of the office, sorting the mail, when I hear someone say, "Hi, Julie. How are you doing today?"  When I peeked out to see who was talking to me, all I saw is the back of a red and black buffalo checked jacket.  Exactly like Bill's.  My eyes were telling me it was Bill but my mind was strongly disagreeing.  I was confused.  And shocked.  And speechless.  I knew it was my neighbor, I could see him standing right in front of me.  But my (crazy) mind could not make sense of the situation and all I could do was stare.  Oh, and open my mouth repeatedly without finding the ability to actually speak intelligible words.  The poor guy looked so confused and befuddled.  And then I mumbled something to him about crying and ran into the back.  Needless to say he made a hasty exit.

But here's my favorite freak out of the week:

I am a regular church-goer.  Have been for years.  Or at least I was until a few months ago.  One Sunday, out of left field,  I was just smothered by this horrible feeling of sadness whilst sitting through a service.  There was nothing unusually upsetting about the sermon or the music or the people around me.  I was just overcome by sadness.  Grief is stealthy like that.  I was missing Bill something terrible and I was feeling conspicuous over a comment someone had made to me about sitting my hypocritical hind end in a pew (Really, aren't we all guilty of that?!  Isn't that a reason why we go to church?!). So I decided to take a break from it all for a bit.  Just until it felt okay again.  You must understand that my intuition serves me better than my brain these days.

Well, something shifted this weekend and encouraged me to finally go back.  It just felt right.

Pffft.

I got there okay.  Settled the kids in just fine too.  Felt comfortable and pretty chill.  And then I freaked out.  Big time.

I felt all fuzzy-headed and warm.  My heart started pounding and racing.  Then it was like the walls were closing in on me.  I know that sounds so cliche but it is the best description I can come up with.  I ran to the bathroom, threw up, hyperventilated, and then couldn't leave the bathroom.  Honest to goodness, I just stared at the door handle and despite my mind telling my hand to grab the darn thing and turn it, I just couldn't do it.  It took me about 15 minutes before I could escape.  It was a frightening and strange experience.

I know it was a panic attack or some other manifestation of anxiety.  Duh.  I also know that I don't need any help dealing with it.  And I don't need a pill to hide my reality.  Time.  I just need time.

Someday I won't feel the acuteness of loneliness and isolation and grief.  Someday I hope to remember Bill's voice singing the songs and feel the sweetness of happy memories.  Today I just felt the emptiness of nothingness.

Hey, but I put on a good show.

Beige.

That's how I feel.  Just beige.

I've had a few people ask why I haven't been writing as of late.  The answer is easy:  I'm a downer.  Even I grow weary of my downerness (pretty sure I just made that word up).

But I just can't shake that feeling.

I guess I'm pretty lonely too.  Even when I stand amongst a crowd of people, I still feel isolated and alone.  Quite honestly, I hardly feel like leaving the house anymore because of it.  At home there is no one to cluck their tongue at me in disdain or pity.

Am I depressed?  Probably.  But don't you think I deserve that excuse for at least a while?  I think so.

I worry that I'm too short-tempered and impatient for my kids.  That I let them watch too much television and spend too much time on the computer.  I know they've had way too much soda lately and not enough vegetables.  Bad attitudes, disobedience, and disrespect seem to be too commonplace in my home now.

But I have no answers to improve the situation.  I'm too tired to make anymore decisions by myself.

By myself.  When I wake up in the middle of the night and can't stop the memories from "that" weekend in January, there is no one to talk with me about it.  No one who understands.  There is no one to tell me what to do with naughty boys and broken cars and full septic tanks.

Maybe beige is the color of loneliness.  With nary a sparkle to be found.

A Good Day and a Bad Day All Wrapped Up Into One Day.

How's that for a title?!

Today is my birthday.  My 44th birthday to be exact.  I am not one of those women who won't admit their true age.  On the contrary, I'm quite proud to admit how many times I've circled the sun.  With each orbit I like to think that I've learned some new lessons about life and that I've also contributed something back to the world.

If you ask me, this year's lessons have pretty much sucked.

Actually that's not true.  Even though I've had my heart broken in the worst possible way this year, I have also experienced the beauty of love and understanding and empathy.  Often from the most unlikely sources too!  I feel like I have had to reconsider my previous definitions of life, family, friends, love, stability, courage, fear, and peace.  Slowly I am realizing these new truths and reorganizing their places in my life.  Some I can embrace with hope and some I slowly wrap in memories and reluctantly shut away.  Maybe not forever.  But I can't see far enough to know.

Enough of that kind of thinking for tonight.

The little kids and I participated in a local fun run/walk this morning.  It was really a fitting way to start the day as well as the new year of my life.  Lovely weather, fresh air, and good company makes me happy.  I had the opportunity to spend the afternoon with some dear girlfriends exploring a few area antique shops, laughing, and talking.  Coffee, thrifting, antiques, and wonderful friends also make me happy.   I ended the day with a tiny celebration at home, surrounded by my favorite people.  Pizza, cake, scotch, and family makes me happier still.

So you see, it really was a good day and a bad day all wrapped up into one day.  New and old.  Happy and sad.  Different and the same.  Topsy turvy.  Full and empty.  That is my life now.  Painful but familiar.

Bill liked to make big plans for my birthday but they seldom worked out exactly how he imagined. Isn't that the way life goes?   He would end up disappointed and frustrated at his imperfect attempt to make my day special.  He would apologize and run to the store to buy me a Skor bar to make up for the disasters of the day.  (And there were always disasters on my birthday.  Ask me about the time he made me drive to this obscure town in North Carolina to pick up a part and Jack threw up in the car and there was no place to eat lunch except Denny's and we were gone until 9:00 at night.  That was a birthday I will never forget!) I would laugh at him and eat the chocolate and be so grateful for the simplicity of our life.  I never really wanted anything for my birthday except to spend the day together.