Pants

I ripped my second pair of pants today in 1 week. The first pair was an absurdly expensive (though worth every penny) pair of jeans. The incident happened when I squatted down to pick up the baby. Right down the groin. Lucky for me the electricians who had just come into the condo to work on the lighting either didn't notice, or were dear enough to pretend not to. I made sure they only saw my front side the rest of our hour and a half together. The second pair tore today. I was pulling a seemingly innocent piece of thread off the seam and they split right down my outter thigh. It was not at all sexy. Just drafty, and I grabbed the baby to go find myself a new pair.

Some of my days are just like this and I am well aware I am not alone in my anecdotal plights. We all have moments where we really do begin to believe the camera crew will come out at any moment. It's funny stuff, “material for the book”, and something hilarious to think about whenever I look at my poor Joe's lying on the floor. It's lame and trite, but I have been thanking God for these moments. Ones like this that are frustrating, but not defeating. Ridiculous, but easily remedied. I have a dear friend whose life is not so simple right now. Something as silly as pants ripping would be another exhausting task to take care of that there is just simply no energy for. None.

On my bad days there is a darkness in the center of my mind- but it is utterly surrounded by light beaming out to Lord knows where- literally. And though I am distressed, anxious, and pissed, I know that my light is bigger than my darkness. My friend radiates light. But she doesn't see it herself. She hears us say it, and writes down what we say, but she doesn't feel it. Does not believe it. Does not feel the warmth. That unknown comfort. Or should I say, Unknown Comfort. For I know who He is and I am able to think clearly about Him (most of the time at least), while she cannot right now.

I am pissed for her. Ticked off. Frustrated. Exhausted. Drained. At times think I am crazy for thinking I can have Hope for her. But you know what? As I was roaming around with her today trying to find a new pair of pants, pushing around our strollers, stopping here and there just to check out different things....it became clear to me that Damn Right I can have hope for her. I do. And I will.

I have vivid memories of being carried around by my dad. The most comforting place in the world....to rest your chin on his shoulder looking out and about at the people behind you. You have no idea where you are heading and you don't care. You are able to walk, but you don't want to. And you are as close to your dad as you possibly can be. Not even considering how his arms must be getting tired, and how it's not really a treat to carry you around. No, you're just content. Watching the world around you. And you are so CLOSE to your dad, yet you can't see his face. This is how it is with my friend. God has become so big and is holding her so closely, she can't even see Him. She's even forgotten who has her....given up on caring where He's taking her....But I see her. She is weary and His arms never get weak. She sleeps (or tosses) at night and He never tires. She sees only darkness and darkness is as light to Him. You don't have to have hope right in this moment, sweet friend. Someday you will need to see it again, to regain that vision and thrive in it. But for right now, rest. We will keep it for you.

Last Day

My FG and I chatted this morning about the upcoming events and changes; Golden Girls, shaving his face, and me leaving the job were among the top three. He was alert this morning which was good and bad. Bad because I knew it would make me miss him more. Good because any moment with him alert is a good one. We had some coffee, chatted about our evenings, and proceeded to his room. It wasn't any special day. I told him I loved him and he looked at me and smiled. I think he loves me too.

I think of him held captive by his own mind. His own brain and command center betraying him. Many people know who he was and what he did, but few understand who he is now. A gentle, kind, old man with only a few things to say now and again. We danced a lot too. Luckily 880 AM was on a roll. He particularly enjoyed The Very Thought of You. So did I. It's a challenge when one of the people in your life that you are closest too is also the one the most far away.

I sit here now in a shady parking lot downtown. Waiting to start my new job nannying a 5 month old baby. So much joy, so many giggles, and if she starts to decline something is most certainly wrong. It will not be her norm to progressively get worse. She will slowly, but surely grow, babble, sit up, chew, talk, go to college, get married, get a job and live life as an adult. But someday she may be in the same boat as my Favorite Gentleman. Trying to figure out how to paddle that damn boat anywhere but where she is...trying to escape herself only to find that she doesn't remember where she's escaping to or where she's come from.

Surprisingly, the sun came up today anyway. Too large and grand and with too big of a job to pause to ponder my ever changing life. Suffering, joy, having joy despite your suffering...don't these all just stem from change. Good change, horrible change, joyful change...and the sun goes up and comes down despite it all. Like its Creator, its job is to lighten the darkness no matter how dark and shine light nor matter how dampened it may seem by the morning clouds. And so these are my thoughts on the Last Day. Running stream of consciousness. My ever changing life. What's a life if it's not going to change though? It will just move on without us and it's more fun to be on that train then standing at the station hoping it comes back. But the thing is, it doesn't. There's the one stop. Get on, stay there, it's your choice. Thank you friend. You taught me so much about that one change that's the most important. The one we have the most control over and that can make the largest impact. To love anyways. To love always. To love despite.

26

About three weeks ago I had no idea what I was doing with my life. And I was "ok" with that. Ok meaning that on the outside I tried to appear footloose and fancy free so as to convince myself I really was. And to an extent I wasn't faking it. I really did enjoy all those random trips and random experiences and being able to go or not go to anything based pretty much on the current whim of my heart. But deep down I'm normal and human (gasp!) and there was a definite sense of panic about my future life. Let's just say the song, The Next Thirty Years by Tim McGraw was beginning to terrify me. How is he singing about his next 30? Why I am singing along with him? I apparently have 4 more years to live it up because my next 30 years are going to contain a lot less adventure. And that's supposedly going to be a good thing.....? Heh. All this jargon is to say that though I need structure and routine and plans, not having any of those things the past 3 or 4 years has been incredible. Then I got this email one morning to say that I'd been accepted to grad school. Exciting though it was, the message might as well have said, "Congratulations! Your life is planned out for you from here on out! Not only will we own you for the next two years, you will also continue to owe us financially until you're oh say......35. Luckily we will dump you directly into a career where you will find security, stability, and opportunity until the appropriate retirement age for your generation." I know this sounds incredibly negative and ungrateful. I promise this was not my immediate response. My immediate response was to call mom and dad. I giggled with glee while they freaked out and had a celebration in their motor home. I heard that later that night they each had an extra Guiness to toast me. So the excitement came first. Then the panic. As things have settled in with my heart and I've begun planning I've also been reteaching myself that having a plan is not always a bad thing. It's just a matter of balancing out the planned with spontaneity. Sort of like balancing out my physical age of 26 with my desire to always be at summer camp playing capture the flag and wanting to be 11... Sort of. But in all honesty I really am starting to sink into the idea that things will just be laid out for me on this neat little path (not including life's little bumps...which I tend to have). And that's something that just happens to us.....we make plans and dream about them for a bit, but we have the luxury of changing them and having really fun Plan B's and Plan D's with your best friends. And then something works out. Not even something, but your Plan A. And all the sudden we're faced with real life and a real and tangible future. I realized quickly that my made up future was much more fun. I saw myself living in the middle of no where, but somehow all my friends wanted to be in the middle of no where with me. It included a lot of being outside reading and we somehow all sustain each other with our individual and unique talents and gifts.Don't ask me what we would do tax wise I hadn't gotten that far. But we're somewhere near a river. But this morning I was walking around with a dear friend on a beautiful day and I realized that none of it really matters anyways. As cliche as it sounds, it's not so much the end goal, but how we live during the process of getting to it. Isn't that what they say? And if the end goal is a pretty excellent one well then aren't you just the luckiest thing to ever live? But you know what? You might not ever get there for one reason or another anyways so you might as well just be excited when you wake up one morning and your main plan on the agenda is coffee and a walk through cherry trees with your lovely friend. So I decided I have a choice; to moan and groan about "joining the rat race", working a "9-5 job", and other trite cliches we describe the American society with. OR. I can wake up every morning and choose God whether I feel like it or not. And I'll fill you in on a little secret- the latter option is way more fun.I'm no expert and I'm clearly no Positive Polly, but here in Portland the sun is shining and I've been with some spectacular people and I've come up with my final thoughts here. Life really is what we make of it friends. And in the infamous words of Blink 182, I guess this is growing up.