All Things New

It's become my favorite time of year. I love September because, to me, it signifies a clean slate, a grand re-do. Close your eyes: Remember the sawdusty smell of freshly sharpened #2 pencils? A new tip meant a new start: mulligans for all, with hope abounding.

My girl came home from her first day of middle school and said it was “awesome.” My heart leapt, relieved, as I’d been wondering about her all day. She had teased me this morning, asking if I was going to cry like I did when she started first grade.

I told her today was kinda like first grade again, but she was taller.

Fresh lunchbox, fresh backpack, fresh start. My heart aches, grateful.

I cannot tell you how or why, but it feels like I’m getting a do-over as well. I have been quietly thankful, not entirely sure of the circumstances or how long they’ll last. But I feel supported, buoyed by a clear course. I’m no longer rudder-less as I was in the early days of my divorce. It feels to me like an early thanksgiving—purposeful but humble, jubilant but shy. It took a long time, but I’m becoming new.

I talked to an old friend tonight who’s known me since I was 12. I told her about this strange state I’m in; she told me I was due. The newness is tempered by the full knowing that life continues to twist and turn, to present challenges and those ubiquitous “growth opportunities” that “build character,” as if we need any more of that. Things will break; homework will perplex; doctors’ bills will come. Nothing really changes, but everything does, seemingly. Something has shifted, and I think it has to do with purpose, and direction, and understanding and maybe some hard-won wisdom.

I’m getting to see things, people transformed, and it’s pretty amazing. As bittersweet as it is to watch my girl grow, knowing she’ll need me less and less, it’s equally thrilling to watch My Girls (and I use that term with love) grow—the amazing single moms I’m meeting and learning about. I mean, how cool is that—that I get to be along for the journey?

I hope you enjoy the strange newness of the season as well—I’m finding what seems like an ending often is a beginning.

-Karen-

Love the moment...

I am really trying the "it's all good" mentality...honest! It is hard to change one's thinking from how hard life is to a moment by moment enjoyment of the little things in life...but I am trying.

I came across this plaque last weekend when I was shopping with a friend from college...I didn't buy it the first time I saw it...but when I went back to buy the "It's all Good" serving bowl...I picked it up. I figured I needed a reminder.


So here it sits on my desk...serving to bring me back to the good..."love the moment"...find the joy in each second. It is when I think about the past, worry about the future, or add it all together that I lose my perspective. It's then I start to see the glass half empty. So focus on the moment...the second that I am in.

It's as simple as watching the water come out of the hose as I water the plants. Each drop is like a little bubble dancing before it hits the ground. Or seeing the smile on my daughter's face as she talks about her community service project this morning or watching a squirrel gather nuts from our oak tree.

If I try to stay in the moment...the right now...the joy of the second. Will the seconds morph into minutes...then hours...then days... Is that how perspective changes? Is that how it turns from glass half empty...to glass full...

Want to join in the experiment? Love your moment...let me know how it goes...still trying to figure this all out...

Cathy

It's all good...

I have a friend that starts each day with “It’s all good”…she is rubbing off on me.

I have to admit, I have leaned toward the glass half empty frame of reference a lot of my life because I felt I wouldn’t get disappointed that way…I wouldn’t be hurt…I wouldn’t feel rejected. I thought it was a good strategy.

Maybe that “thought” wasn’t on target.

So at the risk of growing up a bit…I am trying it…the “It’s all good” strategy. So far so good! My daughter, Elizabeth, asked me why I was smiling the other day. “Just because”, I told her (imagine the look of shock, confusion, then shoulder shrug).

It feels good to think good thoughts. The alternative is not very fun. How come I didn’t see this before?

It feels good to look at the early morning sky, hear the birds chirp, see the squirrels climb trees, see the flowers bloom, the leaves on the trees dance in the breeze. I love the stars at night, and the cooling off from the hot summer day.

Even writing this takes practice…it’s a bit uncomfortable to be so hopeful. Breaking the habit of bracing for the worst…always on ready for the next shoe to drop…for the next crisis. Don’t get me wrong. I know the challenges will come. They have to for me to keep growing, for life to have variety, for life to have meaning. I have always “thought” life would be good if I won the lottery, was married to a fabulous man, had perfect kids, a perfectly run business, and had no problems. I am now able to start thinking that a “perfect” life might be boring…and would certainly not produce any growth in me. I think I do a lot of my growing through the challenges I face each day.

Want to join me on this new journey...focusing on the good in life…

“Filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious – the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse…Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies”. Philippians 4:8-9 (The Msg)

Cathy

Milestones

I have been doing a lot of thinking about milestones lately…milestones in work…milestones in marriage (my parents just celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary)…milestones in growing up. The milestones in child-rearing are the ones that I spend the most time thinking about.

You see…I thought I was free and clear when my kids were old enough to stay at home by themselves…then old enough to drive…then old enough to watch the dog when I went out of town on business. I didn’t count on the old enough to talk back…old enough to want independence…old enough to spend the summer with Aunt Molly…old enough to go to college…old enough to leave me…

When our kids are younger we wait with the camera at ready to capture those “firsts” like rolling over, sitting up, walking, talking. Something happens along the way…between kindergarten and senior year…we are no longer so ready to pull out the camera and capture the milestones…the battles…the good-byes.

I don’t enjoy the fights about keeping the room clean, doing the laundry, setting a curfew, enforcing family time. What happened? All a natural evolution…just like rolling over…but oh…it sure isn’t as cute...and sometimes it hurts!

I have been spending a lot of time rationalizing my thoughts and feelings. “It is all normal,” I tell myself and continue with, “They are so much better off asserting their independence…this is the right thing for them…it isn’t about me!”

I don’t think it is just a single mom thing…but I think it might be more pronounced. In many instances our lives have been our kids…it has had to be. There just wasn’t enough time to take care of work, laundry, bills, kid activities, kid homework, and still have a life of my own. Don’t get me wrong…I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t do it any differently. But…when they gain that independence and they aren’t at home…I am left with myself. Left to wonder…what’s next? What do I like to do? Is it time to start achieving my own milestones…ones that are just about me?

It is a new game…a new day…one that has more time for me. I will still be here for the kids…but they don’t need me in the same way. It is different now. I need to adjust to the new life…to the new expectations…to the new reality. Time for me…huh?

Vaguely Familiar

Last weekend I couldn't stand Em's room anymore so I suggested we clean. Well. OK. I started cleaning and asked her to join me. As she entered the room, she motioned to the open window, "It's freezing in here."

"Au contraire, my little petri dish. The open window is keeping me alive in this," I said as I swept my fingers over her bookshelf and created a Pigpen-style dust cloud. "Too bad I don't have haz-mat gear."

After she finished rolling her eyes, she started cleaning as well and it dawned on me: I must have gotten the wrong baby at the hospital. Because I actually like it clean, you know, relatively speaking.

So all week I've been thinking of the many ways she and I are different, how weird that is, and how much, frankly, *I've* had to change in raising her. Just saying. She's not having to change, I am. And I wonder if she'll ever know *me*...or just me as Mom.

While I've become a better me--a more patient me, a more selfless me, a more protective but bittersweet me--it always costs to change. As a single mom, I liken this to feeling around a dark room, trying to get my bearings without another important adult there to provide a clear reflection: Ya bump into things--emotions, feelings, dust and dirty socks--and it's up to you how you handle it.

We are entering a strange new time, she and I, where we butt heads as often as holding hands. She's pulling away, wondering who'll she'll become as she grows up. I, too, wonder what I will be as more Me, less Mom.

Any other mothers going thru this? Do tell--
Karen

There's always a decision to be made

There are quite a few things I dislike about being a single mom, but making decisions on my own is definitely at the top of the list (right before taking out the garbage…seriously!)

Since the beginning of this journey…fourteen years ago…decision making has been my weak spot. Especially when it comes to my kids. I sometimes feel as if I am stuck behind a gigantic elephant, wondering what lies ahead…how will my decision affect the path...and will I make the right one? This morning is no different. I awoke at 4:30 a.m. thinking, “I can’t let him do it by himself”.

My son is getting ready to choose colleges and this summer is the summer of soccer ID camps. We have known this for awhile…we just haven’t known what camps. Last night we made some decisions. He will go to at least two different camps, one close by and one a plane ride away. The one a plane ride away starts the day after my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. We are celebrating in Sunriver…the entire family.

So what’s the problem? Josh needs to come back to Portland the day of my parents' anniversary to leave on a flight the next morning. I think I should go with him, get him settled, get him from the airport to the campus…and just be around in case he needs me, needs reassurance that he is awesome, unique, and one heck of a guy. Is that too much? How do I let go at the right time? Does he still need his mom? My gut tells me this is a scary time in his life…exciting but scary. So many unknowns...am I an anchor for him even now?

I have to admit I have allowed myself to get knee deep in the empty nest blues – and he isn’t even gone yet – he still has another year at home. Is my wanting to go about me…or is it about him? Of course, the simple answer is to ask him if he wants me to go with him, then try and read his facial expressions…make the right guess. Is he nervous? Would my going help him? If I do go…what about my mom and dad and their anniversary?

You see, I hate making decisions on my own…

The Christian-thing to do is pray…and I will. But, God doesn’t always answer a mother’s plea as soon as she thinks He should…but it is a start. It gives me a sense of peace that someone bigger than me is in control. Plus, if I lift it up, then maybe all the pieces will fall into place…like maybe his Dad will volunteer to go. Would that be the right solution…should I call him? Should I ask him to go with Josh? Would that make the situation better?

No answers…but I’m at the place that I need to be…in prayer…asking God… hoping …and trusting (fast pulse) that He will provide a glimpse of the road ahead…a tiny sneak preview of the path that unfolds in front of the enormous elephant blocking my view…

Community

Locally we are experiencing a beautiful crisis. One of my favorite people lost her husband in an accident. She has four babies to get raised. She is surrounded, right now, with friends and family and food and help. She is treading water in that love, and it's a beautiful thing to watch.

So beautiful, in fact, that I want to recreate it for our community. Watching my friends react to this loss, seeing them expand to their very tender best, witnessing people giving in their ache...this is what I want for our single moms. It became so clear for me. I want that support whether a woman has been widowed or abandoned, whether she filed or he did.

Is there any less need?

This has impacted me on a number of levels, both personally and professionally, both heart and head. Cathy and I talked about it over the weekend: How amazing would it be for people to come together and protect the most vulnerable? This is what the Church is supposed to do, and sometimes it happens. But could it become what Eve's Daughters is known for?

On my other blog, I just wrote, "Sadly, I think most of us have only experienced a taste of this (kind of community) ever in our darkest times. How do we fix that--so that being alone in your abandonment or betrayal or shame is the exception and not the rule?"

I wait, right now, knowing things that are not ready to be discussed. There will be time for that, for me and my friend. But I pray there's also a time for all of us to all come together--that it will become our new norm.

Join us?

-Karen