The only "Me"

I was particularly inspired by my friend (and published author) Jayne's blog entry entitled, “How Will They Remember You?” This is seriously a question I ask myself at least once a week lately. I get very worried that I haven't worked hard enough or accomplished enough in the time that I've been given.

I think Jayne makes a great point though. It's the little things we want to know about those that have gone before us. How did they celebrate birthdays? What was their favorite subject in school? Hobbies? My paternal grandmother died before I was born. There's nothing I wouldn't give to sit and read her journal. I'm told I'm so much like her – yet I really know nothing about her. I wish there had been some record of her life raising ten children on a farm. I've seen her beautiful quilt work, but I will never know what her handwriting looked like or what she thought about her world.

Leaving a legacy (even though it's not star studded or particularly glamorous) is slowly taking on new meaning for me. It's not so important that I've not accomplished BIG things, but that I write down the little things that make me tick, share the little joyful moments that keep me going.

There will never be another me on this earth. Ever. I'm not a superstar, or a hero, or a world class athlete - but I'm the only ME that will ever exist on this earth. That alone warrants a written record.

“You are so busy being YOU that you have no idea how utterly unprecedented you are.” ― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

Getting Healthy!

I was a large woman. At 4'11” and 187 pounds, I was not happy. My knees ached constantly. I had high cholesterol. I just wasn't healthy. I've spent the last few years learning how and what to eat. I got off the “tomorrow diet” in favor of a healthier rest of my life! While I still have minor ups and downs, I am now armed with the knowledge of what I need to do to be healthy. This knowledge is powerful. I shudder when I look in old posts on this blog. I was so unhealthy. The scale said 129 this morning. That's 58 pounds gone. I want to lose about 15 more – if possible, and then I'm planing a celebratory photo shoot. So thankful for a healthier, happier me!!

Crossroads

Something very strange happened last week. My husband was out-of-state on business, three of my children went out-of-town with grandparents, and one was with a friend at the beach. Where was I? Home. Alone. For. Three. Days. First time this has happened in 15 years.

I've been struggling a lot lately with my quickly changing role of “mother.” I've devoted the last 15 years to my children. I've worked from home doing photography and sewing custom boutique children's clothing. Now, my children, ages almost 8 – 18 are all in school all day. There are no diapers to change. I don't have to dress anyone, nurse anyone, brush anyone's teeth. They are very independent. I'm glad! But I'm lost....

I think it's time for me to try new things, to get out there in society. Honestly, the idea of sewing all day long alone in studio for another year just makes me cringe. I've been writing more, which I love, but it's still a very solitary activity. I still have to be a mother first and foremost. I still will pick my kids up from school and cook dinner, etc. But what I need now is a new opportunity, a new adventure. I suppose I can't just sit here and wait for an opportunity to knock on my door, but I haven’t looked for one in so long, I'm not sure where to start. This is where my frustration begins.

Where do I look? What do I do? Pre-motherhood I competed for seats in orchestras, I did public speaking contests and recited dramatic monologues just for the fun on it. But opportunities were EVERYWHWERE 15 years ago. Now, they are hiding and I'm not a talented “seeker.”

I like to be busy. I like to work. I can guarantee that whatever new endeavor I attempt, I will probably be the one trying too hard. I'm hard on myself, but I want stellar results, so I don't know any other way to be.

Last week, while I was alone, I shopped. I tended my potted plants and my garden. But mostly I did a lot of thinking. I'm nearly 40. My life is different and I want to find a way to embrace and enjoy it. I'm at a crossroads. It's an unnerving spot to sit, in my opinion. I need to find my opportunity – while still fulfilling all roles of wife and mother.

I'm ready. My heart is open.

It's Okay to Fall Apart

I somehow have the ability to pick myself up and carry on in the midst of adversity. It doesn't mean I don't fall apart, occasionally, I just don't do the falling publicly.

At 16 I was set on becoming a professional flutist. I was strongly considering leaving my current high school and attending the Governor's School for the Arts. I practiced hour upon hour. It was all I wanted to do. I always believed if I worked hard enough, I could do anything. Work. Work. Work.

I knew I had lots of trouble hearing people in quiet conversations. I could never hear my friends talk to me in class. I asked people to repeat themselves all the time. Upon a hearing evaluation, we learned that my hearing was very bad and it's was the specialists opinion that it would continue to worsen. A deaf flautist?? I was crushed. I remember climbing to the top of a large oak tree in our backyard and bawling. Somehow though, I still believed that if I worked hard and kept going, everything would be alright. Thankfully, I am 39 and I'm not deaf yet. I have severe hearing loss and depend on hearing aids, but I can hear!

Though I kept playing and practicing, and still do, I knew I could not risk a career in music when there was such a possibility of deafness. I went to college and majored in English, my second love. Throwing myself into literature helped me move past my disappointment and move on. I'm the only person in my family that has ever graduated from college.

Fast forward a few years. I was married – 10 years, two children. My boys were ages 4 and 2. Though I knew there were problems in my marriage, I really felt like I had a good life. That this was the way it was supposed to be?? I made myself believe that my marriage was healthy. Then he left. He left me for another woman. Not only that but a whole huge slew of things were out on the table and I was clueless. Blindsided. How could someone I trusted SO TOTALLY do this to me? I felt like a complete idiot. I felt like a naive fool. I had nothing, not a cent to my name. My husband and everything I thought I had was gone.

I would be strong all day long. I didn't want my boys to see me upset. Bedtime would come and the boys would sleep and I would lose it. I cried it out, every night for a very long time. I even remember waking from a dead sleep and I would still be bawling.

It's funny how now I can look back and see how those moments made me stronger. I knew more, I understood more, and most importantly, I knew I could handle pain. I now had some armor in my arsenal.

My point is this. We all fall apart. We are human. However, it's how we handle heartache and hard times that makes us who we are. So go ahead, allow yourself time to grieve. Check into the hotel and cry on their fancy pillows. BUT – don't unpack. You don't live there. Your stay in the Heartbreak Hotel should not be a long one. Take some time to pick up the pieces and MOVE ON. Re-focus and re-invent yourself. I promise, on the other side there is a new, more wonderful you waiting in the wings ready to begin anew.

Dylan and Caleb (13 and 15 years)

"Arriving at destination, on right."

If you have a GPS in you car, you have probably heard this phrase. My GPS voice has a British accent which I simply adore. Something melodic and easy about that accent, simple yet eloquent. I have been beating myself up lately, wondering if I will ever feel that I have truly “arrived.” Have I met the destination I have been traveling towards, or have I just blazed by checkpoints and kept going. My list of checkpoints and destinations is fogging my brain. Here are a few:

1. I don't write enough. I have a blasted English degree and I don't write – not even this puny blog. WHY? FEAR. I'm a coward. I know I have very judgmental eyes that read my blog, and maybe I'm just afraid of failure, or being labeled, judged. But, alas, it is time to write. I've started a novel – because the story in bits and pieces has been in my head for over two years, and it's time to put it on paper. As for blogging, I had decided to write on my photo blog, but I prefer the Blogger set-up; it's just easier. So I'm back to blogging – I even have it on my calendar.

2. I want another degree. I'm seriously considering going back to college either for a masters, or start over and earning a photography degree. No, no dinky tech “joy of photography class.” I want the full blown, real deal. Maybe in a few years.....I'll never grow tired of photography.

3. All my children will be in school next year. WOW. I need to work on ME. I've already started this journey, but next year I'll have more time to refine things a bit. I've lost nearly 40 pounds, and I am thrilled, but there is still work to be done!

4. Sewing and music. They seem to get pushed to the end, but they need some revitalizing as well. I sewed my daughter 6 pairs of ruffle shorts for summer this week, and I practiced a dozen on so hymns on my flute. I'm petrified of losing or forgetting what I worked so long and hard to acquire...

So, have I arrived? Heck no. Not by a long shot. I could add 10 more things to this list and still not be finished. I am hard on myself though, and I have to wonder, will I be 80 years old and still feel like I have yet to arrive. I hope not. The mere thought gives my chills....

Me and my biggest fan - gosh I love this man! (Blogger is making the picture look BAD though - I will have to figure out why...

Metamorphosis

This time of year brings back many memories. Fall changes everything in the air; smells, textures, colors, it's all in the process of metamorphosis. This time of year, in 2004, I was in the middle of a divorce. I had made the decision to move out of my house (his house), and move into MY house. Seeing as I had a 4 year old, a 2 year old, and no job, this was going to be difficult to say the least. But I had decided to make it happen. So, I prayed, and then I prayed some more, and more. You get the idea. Finally one day I had some news that my aunt and uncle's rental mobile home was vacant and the rent was only $200 a month. It was a quick walk right through the woods to my parents home, and I knew my boys would love that! Excitedly, my dad and I went to check it out. It was hard to swallow. Holes in the wall (I could see the OUTSIDE from the inside), rats nests in the oven – it was falling apart. My dad looked at me, I looked at him. He said something like, “we can make it work.” I believed him – I always believe my daddy. So, the work began. I watched my dad constantly turn trash to treasure, he made something out of nothing over and over again. He used scraps and leftovers from other projects. We painted, hammered, patched and prayed. My mom cleaned and cleaned until the whole place reeked of the wonderfully sanitized smell of Clorox. The day came and 5 elders from the church in 3 pick-ups moved everything I owned all in one trip, and then unloaded it in my new home. It was home. The metamorphosis had begun. From wife to single mom, homeowner to renter, together to alone. What should have been a sad day, and I did shed a few tears, ended up being remarkable. I KNEW I could make it, I was independent, my boys were happy and I would be okay. To this day my boys still comment about how much they loved our little “trailer in the woods,” It was the happiest stop on earth. They often recount their wonderful memories of that home. I felt like it was a spot blessed from above. I discovered through this process that I thrive on independence. Being forced to make all the decisions all the time brought me “back to life,” and it was a good life. A family member told me, “It's so nice to have Christy back.” Perhaps we all need a "metamorphosis" in our lives, perhaps we all need something to bring us "back to life.”
Photos taken in October 2004 on the property where I was renting: