It has been such a long time since I have written on this blog! Almost two years to be exact, as my boss/friend Renee reminded me. I was expecting Carolina then, ready to pop any day. Once she was born, she ruled the roost and I don't know where time has gone.
This post is about how I have changed as a person in the last couple of years. Some days I don't even recognize myself! Not only has becoming a mother changed me (for the good), but I have gone through some pretty big life-altering events in the past two years, including beginning a writing career and losing the best man I've ever known, my grandpa.
I am not sure how people have perceived me over the years, but I think I was seen as the party-girl, the silly girl, the girl who laughed really loudly and always had a story to tell. I know she still exists, somewhere deep down. I miss her. I miss being silly. I miss laughing with my friends. I miss me.
My world turned upside down on Aug. 31, 2013. My uncle called and told me my grandfather had had a heart attack and that he was being rushed to the Cities. Long story short, he passed away the next day with his family encircling him. That was the absolute worst day of my life. I have talked and talked and written some more about that day in Facebook postings, so I won't go into detail here. But I never knew I could survive that kind of emotional pain. I'm still surprised the world kept turning. To me, it should have stopped, at least for a moment, out of respect for a great man.
Not only was Thanksgiving this year terrible, for we were all sad, but Christmas wasn't much better. We were in the ER with Grandma on and off that day, and she was finally admitted to the hospital. She was in and out of the hospital and nursing home all winter (and what a winter it was!) before they finally diagnosed her with a stomach ulcer and depression. I guess losing Grandpa took more of a toll on her than we knew. She always seemed so stoic, but it was internalized.
This blog isn't a listing of everything bad that happened to me this year. Everyone has bad things happen to them, and I am not unique. My pain is no worse than anyone else's. But I only know myself from the inside out, no one else. Derek might know me that well too, come to think of it.
I just know that I have changed so much in the last year and I wonder how to reverse it. Some of it is good, don't get me wrong. I have finally 'grown up' and realize that staying up partying til 7 a..m. is a poor decision on so many levels. Can't remember the last time I did that anyway. I realize that I have a beautiful daughter who depends on me for everything. I was always pretty responsible, but now I am hyper-vigilant.
No, what has changed is my sparkle. I feel like a dull, rusty version of my former self. I feel sad, depressed and some days I really just don't want to do anything. Some days seem like a never-ending succession of doing things that I really just don't want to do, but have to because they need to be done. I hide it well. But sometimes I just want to scream and tell the world 'please, just leave me alone. Stop asking me for things. Stop expecting so much of me.'
I don't laugh like I used to. I don't dream up stupid, spontaneous things to drag Derek along to (like driving to North Carolina for a long weekend so he could see the ocean. And because I had four days off...in a row!) I barely had the energy when I get home to take a shower, let alone the 27-mile long list of 'to do's.'
Not long ago, and this is hard for me to admit, but I broke down. I just lost it. I don't know if it was a technical nervous breakdown. But I couldn't get out of bed for two days. Luckily my mom is awesome, because she came over and just let me be. This came not long after my other grandpa, my dad's dad, passed away suddenly and unexpectedly.
I just cried and cried and cried. I cried as I thought of the people I have lost. I cried because I am no longer the 'apple of anyone's eye' anymore. I cried because my safety net (my grandpa Harlan) is gone, and he is never coming back, and why oh why do I have to stand on my own two feet with no one to catch me if I fall? These were the thoughts going through my head. Depression isn't always logical, I have found. I also had been anxiety ridden, which was NEVER like me. Even tiny things have made me anxious and nervous. Forgetful. Sometimes I would shake with nerves over something as miniscule as forgetting to mail a bill.
Another thing that has weighed me down is guilt. Guilt that I'm not home enough with my daughter. Guilt brought on by Mike reminding me that yet again, I forgot to do something for him, that he feels neglected. Guilt at not calling my friends, not trying to maintain friendships, not putting any effort whatsoever into it. Guilt at not caring, because I feel forgotten by many of them anyway, because yes we're all busy but why do I always have to make the effort, the phone calls, the emails, and am sick of trying. Guilt is a heavy thing to bear.
This all so sounds so terrible, doesn't it? Just rereading it has me wondering, 'God should I even publish this? It's so depressing and people will think I'm nuts!!'
But I will publish it and for one very important reason. Grief is an awful thing. It consumes like fire, it drowns you in despair or burns like an ache in your gut. It molds you in ways you never thought possible. It changes you. It makes you a little bit harder, a little bit less likely to open up to anyone. At least in my case.
I will always miss both of my grandfathers, my dad (the idea of him), my mentor, and others. Grandpa Harlan's death knocked me to my knees. He was my rock. He made me feel safe and loved, even when I felt abandoned by the rest of the world. Nothing was insurmountable when I talked to him. Little did I know that it would take about 7 months after his death to finally hit full force. Everyone who says that grief hits you later, that everything is too busy after the death with the planning and readjusting etc. hit it right on the head.
So no one worries, I am doing MUCH better and am not consumed with doom and gloom anymore. I feel like I have reached the light at the end of the tunnel. Getting knocked down by grief and despair was a valuable lesson for me to learn. I learned that I am SO strong, that I can get through anything. But not alone. God was always waiting there to pick me up. Even when I pushed him away. I also learned that I AM GOOD ENOUGH, JUST THE WAY I AM. And NO ONE can take that away. As long as I try my best, what can anyone say to me?
I am looking forward to the future for the first time in awhile. I have energy and plans. And most importantly, I have a beautiful little girl who loves her mommy and is an angel here on earth. She is my reason for being. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
I shared this story because I think it's important to know what grief and feelings of guilt can do to a person. It's important to offer support to someone when you know they are going through a terrible thing. It's also important to know when to seek help, professionally, spiritually, whatever you need. There is no shame in needing help. I found mine through the Bible, long talks with my best friend Derek and an inner strength I had forgotten I possessed. Maybe one of these days I will almost be me again.
About Me
- Sarah Matara Young
- Prescott, WI, United States
- I was born and raised in Wisconsin and love every second of living here. I am a loyal Packer fan, Brewers fan, Badgers fan and love anything to do with this state, even the frigid, snowy winters. My husband Mike and I bought our first house 6 months ago and live in Prescott. We enjoy hunting, fishing, travelling and going to Brewer and Packer games together. We have been married a little over three years now and are expecting our first baby in July. We are beyond excited to add to our family! We also have a large, needy tomcat named Bootsy, a Beagle named Reba and a Lab-Beagle mix named Ramona. I am an assistant manager at Philander's Grill & Bar and Mike is a foreman for Scott Construction.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
My Little Tater Tot, Little One, Butterbean, Baby
Dear Baby,
Right now I am 28 weeks along with you and you are kicking the crap out of me every day. I think you must be growing and stretching quite a lot, because my upper right ribcage is very sore and bruised, so your little toes dig in there quite a bit. While it's uncomfortable, it makes me happy because it means you are growing strong and big. I like it when you remind me that you are healthy and getting ready to come into this world.
Your mama and daddy were quite shocked to learn that you were on your way! We bought our house on Halloween of last year (the house you will grow up in.) That whole month was a month of chaos, tears, anxiety, excitement, frustration....you name it. Someday you'll understand when you buy your own house. I had been feeling very exhausted, light headed and over emotional that whole month, but I thought it was just the huge amount of stress we were under. See, we had to be out of our rental house by Oct. 30 and we weren't sure our house would close by then. So we were looking at moving into a motel.
Literally the day after we moved in, I figured maybe I should take a pregnancy test since I wasn't feeling right. That was a long four minutes. I remember your daddy was eating a Jimmy Johns sub at the table, waiting for me to come out. When I came out of the bathroom he stared at me and said "Well?" When I showed him the test that told us you were on your way, he broke into a huge grin from ear to ear. He was so happy! And overwhelmed, terrified and dumbfounded. As was I. We had just moved into our house and now we were having a baby??? It was quite a surprise. A wonderful, unexpected surprise!
I remember crying tears of relief because I had secretly been wondering for quite some time if I was unable to have children. Many of our friends seemed to decide to get pregnant and literally days later would announce they were expecting. While we were always happy for them, I could see your daddy's face fall a little each time. I think he was worried he would never become a dad. He always assured me that everything would be okay, that if we could never have kids, we would have our dogs (fur babies.) But I knew he wanted a little child of his own and I felt horrible that I hadn't yet given it to him. Not that it was my fault, but as you get to know me as you grow up, you'll know I carry the burden of things even when they're not my fault. It didn't help that what seemed like every three days someone was asking us, "When are you going to have a baby? Why haven't you had one yet? Can you have kids? You've been married for three years almost, why don't you have a baby? Do you hate kids?" We always wanted one. It just wasn't in God's timing yet. But now is the time, because you are on your way! A lesson I learned is that, everything happens when it's supposed to, not always when you want it to.
The first trimester, you were such a kind baby to your mama. I had no morning sickness at all!! The only thing that was slightly weird was that the smell of cooking meat made me ill. This was devastating to your daddy, because he is definitely a carnivore and hunts every single hunting season. He provides well for our family. We rarely have to buy meat at the grocery store. As I'm writing this for you, he's turkey hunting.
I didn't really have many cravings, but the main one was apples. I could not eat enough apples or drink enough apple cider. Then I went through a sauceless spaghetti phase, a popcorn phase, and a BLT phase. The one that I can't have that is killing me baby, but you're so very worth it, is lunchmeat. I am absolutely addicted to subs, especially Jimmy John's #9, and I haven't had one since November. I told your daddy to bring one with him to the delivery room for when you have arrived. Even giving up smoking wasn't as hard as giving up lunchmeat. But I would give everything I have to make sure you are healthy and happy.
We haven't painted your room yet because we aren't sure if you're a boy or girl. We are fairly sure you're a little girl, and mama feels that you are, but the ultrasounds have been a wee bit inconclusive. At the 20 week ultrasound, you had your little legs very tightly crossed and were not about to let anyone have a peep. At the 24 week ultrasound, your legs were pressed tightly together. The ultrasound tech was fairly certain she saw girl anatomy up under there, but we aren't 100% positive yet. I have another ultrasound at 30 weeks, so maybe you'll be more cooperative then? You are a stubborn little thing, just like your mama. Oh, I love you so much already.
Your daddy has been very protective of you and me during this whole pregnancy. He has even started voluntarily cleaning the house since I had to cut way down on such activities. Let's hope he keeps that up after you're here too ;) Your daddy felt you kick the other night for the first time. You walloped him four times. He was overjoyed! He has so many plans for you! He has already picked out your first wagon, your first BB gun and your name.
Well baby, I think we should get some chores done around the house today. I will write more things down for you soon. You have a mama and daddy who can't wait to meet you, and many friends and family members waiting for you too. But please don't hurry. Take your time and grow and stay cozy. Soon enough you'll be out in the big world. Right now you're safe with your mama. You also have two very lovable dogs waiting for your arrival too. Reba and Ramona curl up around my belly all the time and when they feel you kick, look up at me. They will be your best friends.
Love,
Mama
Right now I am 28 weeks along with you and you are kicking the crap out of me every day. I think you must be growing and stretching quite a lot, because my upper right ribcage is very sore and bruised, so your little toes dig in there quite a bit. While it's uncomfortable, it makes me happy because it means you are growing strong and big. I like it when you remind me that you are healthy and getting ready to come into this world.
Your mama and daddy were quite shocked to learn that you were on your way! We bought our house on Halloween of last year (the house you will grow up in.) That whole month was a month of chaos, tears, anxiety, excitement, frustration....you name it. Someday you'll understand when you buy your own house. I had been feeling very exhausted, light headed and over emotional that whole month, but I thought it was just the huge amount of stress we were under. See, we had to be out of our rental house by Oct. 30 and we weren't sure our house would close by then. So we were looking at moving into a motel.
Literally the day after we moved in, I figured maybe I should take a pregnancy test since I wasn't feeling right. That was a long four minutes. I remember your daddy was eating a Jimmy Johns sub at the table, waiting for me to come out. When I came out of the bathroom he stared at me and said "Well?" When I showed him the test that told us you were on your way, he broke into a huge grin from ear to ear. He was so happy! And overwhelmed, terrified and dumbfounded. As was I. We had just moved into our house and now we were having a baby??? It was quite a surprise. A wonderful, unexpected surprise!
I remember crying tears of relief because I had secretly been wondering for quite some time if I was unable to have children. Many of our friends seemed to decide to get pregnant and literally days later would announce they were expecting. While we were always happy for them, I could see your daddy's face fall a little each time. I think he was worried he would never become a dad. He always assured me that everything would be okay, that if we could never have kids, we would have our dogs (fur babies.) But I knew he wanted a little child of his own and I felt horrible that I hadn't yet given it to him. Not that it was my fault, but as you get to know me as you grow up, you'll know I carry the burden of things even when they're not my fault. It didn't help that what seemed like every three days someone was asking us, "When are you going to have a baby? Why haven't you had one yet? Can you have kids? You've been married for three years almost, why don't you have a baby? Do you hate kids?" We always wanted one. It just wasn't in God's timing yet. But now is the time, because you are on your way! A lesson I learned is that, everything happens when it's supposed to, not always when you want it to.
The first trimester, you were such a kind baby to your mama. I had no morning sickness at all!! The only thing that was slightly weird was that the smell of cooking meat made me ill. This was devastating to your daddy, because he is definitely a carnivore and hunts every single hunting season. He provides well for our family. We rarely have to buy meat at the grocery store. As I'm writing this for you, he's turkey hunting.
I didn't really have many cravings, but the main one was apples. I could not eat enough apples or drink enough apple cider. Then I went through a sauceless spaghetti phase, a popcorn phase, and a BLT phase. The one that I can't have that is killing me baby, but you're so very worth it, is lunchmeat. I am absolutely addicted to subs, especially Jimmy John's #9, and I haven't had one since November. I told your daddy to bring one with him to the delivery room for when you have arrived. Even giving up smoking wasn't as hard as giving up lunchmeat. But I would give everything I have to make sure you are healthy and happy.
We haven't painted your room yet because we aren't sure if you're a boy or girl. We are fairly sure you're a little girl, and mama feels that you are, but the ultrasounds have been a wee bit inconclusive. At the 20 week ultrasound, you had your little legs very tightly crossed and were not about to let anyone have a peep. At the 24 week ultrasound, your legs were pressed tightly together. The ultrasound tech was fairly certain she saw girl anatomy up under there, but we aren't 100% positive yet. I have another ultrasound at 30 weeks, so maybe you'll be more cooperative then? You are a stubborn little thing, just like your mama. Oh, I love you so much already.
Your daddy has been very protective of you and me during this whole pregnancy. He has even started voluntarily cleaning the house since I had to cut way down on such activities. Let's hope he keeps that up after you're here too ;) Your daddy felt you kick the other night for the first time. You walloped him four times. He was overjoyed! He has so many plans for you! He has already picked out your first wagon, your first BB gun and your name.
Well baby, I think we should get some chores done around the house today. I will write more things down for you soon. You have a mama and daddy who can't wait to meet you, and many friends and family members waiting for you too. But please don't hurry. Take your time and grow and stay cozy. Soon enough you'll be out in the big world. Right now you're safe with your mama. You also have two very lovable dogs waiting for your arrival too. Reba and Ramona curl up around my belly all the time and when they feel you kick, look up at me. They will be your best friends.
Love,
Mama
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
It's the Little Things in Life that Matter Most
About a month ago I was as stressed out as I've ever been. Worry, hurt, confusion and anxiety consumed my every waking thought like a wild fire consumes a forest. I've been a worrier my whole life, always pondering the 'what-ifs' of every situation. But this was beyond that. This was to the point where I was making myself physically ill. I've had shingles three times in the past year, and a major cause of that is stress. While I've been trying to watch my diet and exercise more, stress has also helped me lose a lot of weight.
People may be wondering what was so worrisome to me. I don't want to get into all of that in too much detail, as some of it is very personal. But marital discord was part of it. Worrying about money was too. Living in a house that is some days literally falling apart was another. And the big one: always worrying what other people thought, worrying about how my comments or actions would be taken by others, worrying if I am good enough, if I'm a good enough friend, daughter, wife, employee, cousin, granddaughter. And wondering what God could possibly love about me when it seems like no matter how hard I try, I end up screwing things up some how.
When Derek and I left for our Deep South vacation, I was at my breaking point. I would burst into tears for seemingly no reason at all. Some days I had to give myself a pep talk to get out of bed. I read my Bible searching for comfort, but when I found it, I was sure that couldn't apply to me. I make too many mistakes for that to apply to me. I was short-tempered with my friends and co-workers. I was tired of people pointing out my short-comings and telling me what I should do. When a compliment came my way, I didn't fully believe it. And I was really tired of not having enough of me to go around.
When I left on our trip, Derek couldn't believe how anxious and worried I was about everything. I was no longer the go with the flow girl, the happy fun excited girl, the one who worried about something only when it was about to blow up in my face. What happened to spontaneous Sarah, who one time thought it was a really good idea to drive to North Carolina for two days just so we could swim in the ocean? I was hyper-vigilant, trying to be one step ahead of the next disaster, always waiting, waiting for the bottom to fall out yet again. Even little things had the power to push me into a full-blown tizzy. Did I lock the door at home? Were my dogs going to be OK for a whole week? Where in the hell did I put my camera charger? Little things were pushing me to the brink of insanity. Was Mike crabby on the phone when I talked to him or just tired? Was my mom sad she couldn't go with us? The most debilitating feeling was guilt. Did I deserve to go on this trip? Shouldn't I be home, helping take care of the kennel, working all I could, putting every penny into savings? What if something happened to my mom or grandparents while I was away. As you can see, I left no stone unturned in the worry department.
It took a couple of days for me to settle down and actually fully enjoy the new sites and scenery around me. As Derek and I talked, and we had many heart to hearts, I could feel the tension slowly begin to drain away. Derek should really be a minister or counselor, because he helped me through my worry web and helped me see that I AM good enough. God IS there through all the bad things, even when they seem insurmountable. He is there every step of the way and as long as you try to trust in Him and have faith, everything WILL be okay. Each one of us is a sinner and is in no way perfect, but as long as we try our best and have faith and try to follow his word, then in his eyes, we are worthy. After all, Derek said, he sent his only Son down to save us from our sin. And nothing can separate you from the love of God unless you allow it to.
Those seven days away were a healing of sorts for me. I realized that any friend worth their salt will love me no matter the mistakes I make or if I can't make it to a social outing because I have to work. A true friend does not judge, but is there to offer a helping hand. And I realized that I am a good friend, wife, daughter, granddaughter, co-worker...etc. As long as I try my best to do right by others, then that's all that can be asked. The only regret I continue to have, though I'm trying my best to beat it, is the lack of time. If I only I had more time for everyone I love. But unfortunately, I have to work and I work weird hours, so I'm learning to make due with what I can do.
The things I remember most about that trip are not necessarily the tourist sites we saw along the way, although those were super cool. My treasured moments are the small things. The wind blowing across us as we stood hundreds of feet in the air on the Hot Spring Mountain Tower; feeling the hot sun beat down on me as I walked along the side of a rice field; watching my best friend be overly excited about getting to walk through a mucky swamp; staring at the mighty Mississippi and knowing it will keep on flowing no matter if I'm having a good day or a bad day; and driving through the endless miles of corn on our way home through Illinois, chatting with my best friend and knowing he will be there for me no matter what. Knowing that he sees the true Sarah, and loves me and accepts me for who I am. And knowing that God does the same. Knowing that I am never alone, though I had felt so alone and overwhelmed this summer.
While I am not completely rid of the hyper-vigilant, anxiety ridden facet of my personality, it is much better. I made a conscious decision not to worry so much about things beyond my control. Those I turn over to God in prayer. When people are snippy with me or try to give me a guilt trip, I stand firm and try not to feel bad. If I am wrong, I readily admit it and offer an apology. When my feelings are hurt, instead of mulling it over, I forgive and try to understand. Most of all, I try to remember that I am a good person and accept myself for who I am, shortcomings and all. And I try to remember that everyone is fighting some sort of battle, maybe unseen from the eyes of others, so kindness and compassion is a must. I know many people don't know the battles I've been waging in myself and my life because I tend to hide them, so I'm sure many others do the same.
So when I returned from this trip, I did not return perfect and whole. But I did return with an appreciation of the little things in life that I take for granted sometimes. Even when things seem hopeless, tomorrow is a new day. Every day is filled with blessings, small and big, and it's important to thank God for those blessings. Out of every horrible situation, God will bring something good from it, if you let him. I have seen that a few times this summer now that I've let go of the worry, and it is truly miraculous in my eyes.
This Labor Day weekend was the best one I've had in years. Not because of some great trip or event, but because it was filled with little blessings. Instead of worrying about money because Mike's work year is winding down, I thanked God for the money I was able to make at work. Instead of trying to plan some big party or outing, I spent the weekend mostly at my grandparents house with my mom and husband. I made my family tater tot hotdish, and my grandpa ate TWO helpings, which is rare these days with his finicky stomach. I drank a lot of coffee, made by my grandma. I played board games with my mom and Grandma. I watched my dogs run around the yard, always so happy and ears flopping away. I made a blueberry cheesecake dessert, which everyone said was great, but which I secretly thought sucked, but hey, they ate it. I walked my dog down the road and met Grandpa coming from my uncle's house on his little lawn tractor, just like the old days. I climbed the hill behind my grandpa's and helped Mike hang a tree stand and sat in that tree stand and looked out over the farm where I grew up. I helped my mom pick cherry tomatoes and watched while she fed my dog about a dozen of them, laughing the whole time. I walked through the dried up pond on the hill where Meghan and I used to pick wildflowers as little girls. I cried after leaving my grandparents AGAIN, so sad that they are getting older and may soon be gone from me, but so grateful that I can still spend time with them. And I thanked God for these seemingly ordinary things, because they are special in their own way.
There was a time when I was not happy unless some major social event was planned, or we were going out that night, or we were having a party at our house. While I still love my friends and spending time with them, I realize it's not always the big events that are best. It's the small things I will remember. So happy Fall to everyone! I am going to go on a walk today and maybe pick some flowers. I certainly have enough energy now because as I wrote this I drank a pot of coffee. Who knew giving up Diet Coke would help me love coffee again? Another small thing to appreciate :)
People may be wondering what was so worrisome to me. I don't want to get into all of that in too much detail, as some of it is very personal. But marital discord was part of it. Worrying about money was too. Living in a house that is some days literally falling apart was another. And the big one: always worrying what other people thought, worrying about how my comments or actions would be taken by others, worrying if I am good enough, if I'm a good enough friend, daughter, wife, employee, cousin, granddaughter. And wondering what God could possibly love about me when it seems like no matter how hard I try, I end up screwing things up some how.
When Derek and I left for our Deep South vacation, I was at my breaking point. I would burst into tears for seemingly no reason at all. Some days I had to give myself a pep talk to get out of bed. I read my Bible searching for comfort, but when I found it, I was sure that couldn't apply to me. I make too many mistakes for that to apply to me. I was short-tempered with my friends and co-workers. I was tired of people pointing out my short-comings and telling me what I should do. When a compliment came my way, I didn't fully believe it. And I was really tired of not having enough of me to go around.
When I left on our trip, Derek couldn't believe how anxious and worried I was about everything. I was no longer the go with the flow girl, the happy fun excited girl, the one who worried about something only when it was about to blow up in my face. What happened to spontaneous Sarah, who one time thought it was a really good idea to drive to North Carolina for two days just so we could swim in the ocean? I was hyper-vigilant, trying to be one step ahead of the next disaster, always waiting, waiting for the bottom to fall out yet again. Even little things had the power to push me into a full-blown tizzy. Did I lock the door at home? Were my dogs going to be OK for a whole week? Where in the hell did I put my camera charger? Little things were pushing me to the brink of insanity. Was Mike crabby on the phone when I talked to him or just tired? Was my mom sad she couldn't go with us? The most debilitating feeling was guilt. Did I deserve to go on this trip? Shouldn't I be home, helping take care of the kennel, working all I could, putting every penny into savings? What if something happened to my mom or grandparents while I was away. As you can see, I left no stone unturned in the worry department.
It took a couple of days for me to settle down and actually fully enjoy the new sites and scenery around me. As Derek and I talked, and we had many heart to hearts, I could feel the tension slowly begin to drain away. Derek should really be a minister or counselor, because he helped me through my worry web and helped me see that I AM good enough. God IS there through all the bad things, even when they seem insurmountable. He is there every step of the way and as long as you try to trust in Him and have faith, everything WILL be okay. Each one of us is a sinner and is in no way perfect, but as long as we try our best and have faith and try to follow his word, then in his eyes, we are worthy. After all, Derek said, he sent his only Son down to save us from our sin. And nothing can separate you from the love of God unless you allow it to.
Those seven days away were a healing of sorts for me. I realized that any friend worth their salt will love me no matter the mistakes I make or if I can't make it to a social outing because I have to work. A true friend does not judge, but is there to offer a helping hand. And I realized that I am a good friend, wife, daughter, granddaughter, co-worker...etc. As long as I try my best to do right by others, then that's all that can be asked. The only regret I continue to have, though I'm trying my best to beat it, is the lack of time. If I only I had more time for everyone I love. But unfortunately, I have to work and I work weird hours, so I'm learning to make due with what I can do.
The things I remember most about that trip are not necessarily the tourist sites we saw along the way, although those were super cool. My treasured moments are the small things. The wind blowing across us as we stood hundreds of feet in the air on the Hot Spring Mountain Tower; feeling the hot sun beat down on me as I walked along the side of a rice field; watching my best friend be overly excited about getting to walk through a mucky swamp; staring at the mighty Mississippi and knowing it will keep on flowing no matter if I'm having a good day or a bad day; and driving through the endless miles of corn on our way home through Illinois, chatting with my best friend and knowing he will be there for me no matter what. Knowing that he sees the true Sarah, and loves me and accepts me for who I am. And knowing that God does the same. Knowing that I am never alone, though I had felt so alone and overwhelmed this summer.
While I am not completely rid of the hyper-vigilant, anxiety ridden facet of my personality, it is much better. I made a conscious decision not to worry so much about things beyond my control. Those I turn over to God in prayer. When people are snippy with me or try to give me a guilt trip, I stand firm and try not to feel bad. If I am wrong, I readily admit it and offer an apology. When my feelings are hurt, instead of mulling it over, I forgive and try to understand. Most of all, I try to remember that I am a good person and accept myself for who I am, shortcomings and all. And I try to remember that everyone is fighting some sort of battle, maybe unseen from the eyes of others, so kindness and compassion is a must. I know many people don't know the battles I've been waging in myself and my life because I tend to hide them, so I'm sure many others do the same.
So when I returned from this trip, I did not return perfect and whole. But I did return with an appreciation of the little things in life that I take for granted sometimes. Even when things seem hopeless, tomorrow is a new day. Every day is filled with blessings, small and big, and it's important to thank God for those blessings. Out of every horrible situation, God will bring something good from it, if you let him. I have seen that a few times this summer now that I've let go of the worry, and it is truly miraculous in my eyes.
This Labor Day weekend was the best one I've had in years. Not because of some great trip or event, but because it was filled with little blessings. Instead of worrying about money because Mike's work year is winding down, I thanked God for the money I was able to make at work. Instead of trying to plan some big party or outing, I spent the weekend mostly at my grandparents house with my mom and husband. I made my family tater tot hotdish, and my grandpa ate TWO helpings, which is rare these days with his finicky stomach. I drank a lot of coffee, made by my grandma. I played board games with my mom and Grandma. I watched my dogs run around the yard, always so happy and ears flopping away. I made a blueberry cheesecake dessert, which everyone said was great, but which I secretly thought sucked, but hey, they ate it. I walked my dog down the road and met Grandpa coming from my uncle's house on his little lawn tractor, just like the old days. I climbed the hill behind my grandpa's and helped Mike hang a tree stand and sat in that tree stand and looked out over the farm where I grew up. I helped my mom pick cherry tomatoes and watched while she fed my dog about a dozen of them, laughing the whole time. I walked through the dried up pond on the hill where Meghan and I used to pick wildflowers as little girls. I cried after leaving my grandparents AGAIN, so sad that they are getting older and may soon be gone from me, but so grateful that I can still spend time with them. And I thanked God for these seemingly ordinary things, because they are special in their own way.
There was a time when I was not happy unless some major social event was planned, or we were going out that night, or we were having a party at our house. While I still love my friends and spending time with them, I realize it's not always the big events that are best. It's the small things I will remember. So happy Fall to everyone! I am going to go on a walk today and maybe pick some flowers. I certainly have enough energy now because as I wrote this I drank a pot of coffee. Who knew giving up Diet Coke would help me love coffee again? Another small thing to appreciate :)
Monday, July 18, 2011
22 hours
I didn't think Mike was going to be coming home this weekend, so imagine my surprise yesterday when he called and said he'd be home around 4 a.m. Sunday morning! He had been working in Michigan the last 2 weeks and didn't think he'd be home any time soon, so it was a pleasant, if bittersweet, surprise. the reason I say bittersweet is because he would only be home for 22 hours before going on the road again.
For those of you who don't know, Mike is a foreman of a seal-coating crew that travels around Wisconsin and Michigan. There are many times he's not home for weeks, so when he gets to come home on a weekend, it's a special occasion. Especially this year, since his crew is doing a lot of work in lower Michigan.
Of course being an assistant manager at a bar and grill, I have to work most weekends, so many times when Mike is home, I'm at work. So he has to come to my work to see me. Needless to say, we don't get much time together in the summer. And it's very, very hard.
Mike and I went to bed tonight around 10:30, and had to get up at 1 a.m. to send him off on the road again. Luckily, he was able to sleep this morning from about 4 a.m. to 2 p.m. while I was at work. The rest of our time was spent doing his work laundry, dinner, a little berry-picking and deer-looking, then off to bed. It sure doesn't leave much time for communicating, which can be extremely frustrating.
I talk to Mike maybe 5 minutes a day by phone if I'm lucky. Most of the time, he doesn't have time to talk on the phone. He and his crew work dawn til dark, and many times he's working many hours after dark on paper work. He's lucky to get 4 hours of sleep a night. So when I'm tired and cranky, I think of that and feel a little spoiled. But he makes up for it in the winter, let me tell you ;)
Being on the road this year has been extremely hard on Mike, since it's so rare that he gets to come home. When he was made foreman of the Northwest Wisconsin crew, we were so excited because we thought that meant he'd be home more. But this year, that crew is responsible for most of the Michigan work since the company has been selling more and more work there, so he is rarely home even on the weekends.
Being married to a road worker is very hard, much more difficult than I ever imagined. I knew what I was getting into, but I never knew it would be this hard. I know it's terribly difficult for Mike to be away from home, from me, from his beloved dogs. And it makes him irritable at best. But I only know how it makes me feel since I'm not him. There are days I'm so frustrated with him and his lack of concern or lack of listening skills that I just want to reach through the phone and slap him. But I understand. He's so busy when he's gone that he has no time for anything else, and that includes what's going on at home. So I have to suck it up, tell him only the good things since he can't do anything about the things that go wrong, and hope that everything is going well for him on his end. I have become quite adept at dealing with septic, plumbing, flooding, technological, financial, natural disaster, you name it, issues. I don't do it all alone of course. I have great friends (especially Derek) and family who are there for me through thick and thin.
The one reason it's so hard for me is that I feel terribly abandoned when he's gone, even though I know he has to work, that he doesn't want to be gone, that he's doing it for us and our future. Since he's so short on time and patience in the summer and is so unbelievably stressed out and under major deadlines, I have to keep conversations simple, short and sweet. I can never vent, never tell him what's going wrong or what's going right. A lot of times my feelings are left in the dust and even though I know they matter to him deep down, in the summer, I will always be second fiddle. His temper is very short in the summer due to all this stress, so sometimes we don't communicate so well and disagreements erupt. It's hard to duke out a disagreement over the phone! But somehow we manage and always come to understand each other's points of view on things...but it is not easy. When he is home, much of that time is spent catching up on needed sleep.
Many people ask me if I ever wonder if he is cheating on me while on the road, and while I know that is an occurance in some cases, I never wonder that about Mike. Oh believe me, when we were first together, I was paranoid and worried to no end. But this many years together has taught me that he would never do that to me. He is faithful and true. He works hard so our future is bright. Plus, like he says, when in the hell would he have time? Being a road worker wife requires bushels of faith, security, self-esteem and most of all, trust. And he knows he doesn't have to worry about me. I have oodles of close guy friends and he knows that, but to me, they are all like the brothers I never had. Plus my beliefs would never allow me to do something like that. I could never live with myself, no matter how much we may disagree sometimes. Being apart is tough, but I know he'll always come home to me and me alone. And even though we're like oil and water sometimes, I will always come home to him. If we can get through what we've already gone through in this life together, we can get through anything. And my belief in God is a huge part of that.
So while I wait for summer to wind down and head toward my favorite seasons (fall and winter!!), I will keep busy doing what I do. Work, work and more work, spending time with my favorite fur babies, going on my long walks, reading, writing for the paper, helping my family, and spending time with my wonderful friends. And soon we will be through another summer road work season and Mike will be home all day long driving me insane playing his incessant video games, talking non-stop about deer, hunting and more deer and messing up my beautifully clean house :) And that is the life of a road worker's wife. Everyone has tough things to get through in this life and summer is mine.
I'm going to try to go back to bed now, now that I've seen Mike safely off to work. This week is supposed to be super hot and it feels like we're in the Amazon, so I sincerely hope the heat is not too tough on Mike and his crew. When I feel cranky about being hot, I just have to think about them, toiling away in the hot sun for 12+ hours and day and I don't feel so bad for myself. Just think, soon it will be snowing and cold and the best season of the year!!
For those of you who don't know, Mike is a foreman of a seal-coating crew that travels around Wisconsin and Michigan. There are many times he's not home for weeks, so when he gets to come home on a weekend, it's a special occasion. Especially this year, since his crew is doing a lot of work in lower Michigan.
Of course being an assistant manager at a bar and grill, I have to work most weekends, so many times when Mike is home, I'm at work. So he has to come to my work to see me. Needless to say, we don't get much time together in the summer. And it's very, very hard.
Mike and I went to bed tonight around 10:30, and had to get up at 1 a.m. to send him off on the road again. Luckily, he was able to sleep this morning from about 4 a.m. to 2 p.m. while I was at work. The rest of our time was spent doing his work laundry, dinner, a little berry-picking and deer-looking, then off to bed. It sure doesn't leave much time for communicating, which can be extremely frustrating.
I talk to Mike maybe 5 minutes a day by phone if I'm lucky. Most of the time, he doesn't have time to talk on the phone. He and his crew work dawn til dark, and many times he's working many hours after dark on paper work. He's lucky to get 4 hours of sleep a night. So when I'm tired and cranky, I think of that and feel a little spoiled. But he makes up for it in the winter, let me tell you ;)
Being on the road this year has been extremely hard on Mike, since it's so rare that he gets to come home. When he was made foreman of the Northwest Wisconsin crew, we were so excited because we thought that meant he'd be home more. But this year, that crew is responsible for most of the Michigan work since the company has been selling more and more work there, so he is rarely home even on the weekends.
Being married to a road worker is very hard, much more difficult than I ever imagined. I knew what I was getting into, but I never knew it would be this hard. I know it's terribly difficult for Mike to be away from home, from me, from his beloved dogs. And it makes him irritable at best. But I only know how it makes me feel since I'm not him. There are days I'm so frustrated with him and his lack of concern or lack of listening skills that I just want to reach through the phone and slap him. But I understand. He's so busy when he's gone that he has no time for anything else, and that includes what's going on at home. So I have to suck it up, tell him only the good things since he can't do anything about the things that go wrong, and hope that everything is going well for him on his end. I have become quite adept at dealing with septic, plumbing, flooding, technological, financial, natural disaster, you name it, issues. I don't do it all alone of course. I have great friends (especially Derek) and family who are there for me through thick and thin.
The one reason it's so hard for me is that I feel terribly abandoned when he's gone, even though I know he has to work, that he doesn't want to be gone, that he's doing it for us and our future. Since he's so short on time and patience in the summer and is so unbelievably stressed out and under major deadlines, I have to keep conversations simple, short and sweet. I can never vent, never tell him what's going wrong or what's going right. A lot of times my feelings are left in the dust and even though I know they matter to him deep down, in the summer, I will always be second fiddle. His temper is very short in the summer due to all this stress, so sometimes we don't communicate so well and disagreements erupt. It's hard to duke out a disagreement over the phone! But somehow we manage and always come to understand each other's points of view on things...but it is not easy. When he is home, much of that time is spent catching up on needed sleep.
Many people ask me if I ever wonder if he is cheating on me while on the road, and while I know that is an occurance in some cases, I never wonder that about Mike. Oh believe me, when we were first together, I was paranoid and worried to no end. But this many years together has taught me that he would never do that to me. He is faithful and true. He works hard so our future is bright. Plus, like he says, when in the hell would he have time? Being a road worker wife requires bushels of faith, security, self-esteem and most of all, trust. And he knows he doesn't have to worry about me. I have oodles of close guy friends and he knows that, but to me, they are all like the brothers I never had. Plus my beliefs would never allow me to do something like that. I could never live with myself, no matter how much we may disagree sometimes. Being apart is tough, but I know he'll always come home to me and me alone. And even though we're like oil and water sometimes, I will always come home to him. If we can get through what we've already gone through in this life together, we can get through anything. And my belief in God is a huge part of that.
So while I wait for summer to wind down and head toward my favorite seasons (fall and winter!!), I will keep busy doing what I do. Work, work and more work, spending time with my favorite fur babies, going on my long walks, reading, writing for the paper, helping my family, and spending time with my wonderful friends. And soon we will be through another summer road work season and Mike will be home all day long driving me insane playing his incessant video games, talking non-stop about deer, hunting and more deer and messing up my beautifully clean house :) And that is the life of a road worker's wife. Everyone has tough things to get through in this life and summer is mine.
I'm going to try to go back to bed now, now that I've seen Mike safely off to work. This week is supposed to be super hot and it feels like we're in the Amazon, so I sincerely hope the heat is not too tough on Mike and his crew. When I feel cranky about being hot, I just have to think about them, toiling away in the hot sun for 12+ hours and day and I don't feel so bad for myself. Just think, soon it will be snowing and cold and the best season of the year!!
Friday, July 1, 2011
I don't know if anyone really reads these blogs, and if they don't, that's ok with me. It's a way for me to get my feelings out, whether anyone reads them or not. And it always seems to be late at night, when I should be sleeping, but of course, cannot.
My mind tonight is whirling at 100 mph and I so wish I could shut if off right now. I am more physically tired than I've been in a long time, but cannot sleep, like usual. Such is the life of the perpetual night owl.
Tonight what is on my mind is the hubby. He has been in Michigan working for almost 3 weeks and will be home for the first time tomorrow. He has had a very frustrating time over there, which I will not discuss here. Let's just say that his patience has been tried dearly, something that is not over-abundant with him as it is. Things are so bad for him right now that when I offered to pray for him, he agreed! He is not nearly as religious as I am.
As he is driving down the roads headed toward the WI Dells, I can't help but think about what I signed myself up for when I married him. He's gone, completely, utterly GONE 6 months of the year (8 when you consider deer hunting). He has never once spent my birthday with me, which may seem trivial for some, but in my family, your birthday is like the shining star of the year and his whole birthday month is made to be so. That is a Lundgren/Matara tradition that he took right kindly to LOL! But like I said, I knew what I was getting into, but I never knew it would be so hard.
Right now, my job as a 'Scott Construction' wife is to listen to every hardship and offer the advice I can (which in my line of work as a bartender surprisingly coordinates at times) with what Mike is dealing with!! I wish I could help with every scenario, but of course, there are times I cannot. It's also hard to hold everything in when Mike comes home, to just let him chill for a day or two. The words of a Miranda Lambert song come to mind: "He can't hide the worry on his face...and even though I got a million things to tell him, I know right now he just needs some space..."
Because of course anyone that knows me truly knows that sometimes I just want to stand up and scream and be the first thing on his mind! But those times in the summer are rare and few and far between. And it has me doubting things sometimes. Not gonna lie. But then I have to remember that I signed up for this, so dammit, I better know what I'm in for! But, I will say it 'outloud:' it is so hard to constantly be in 2nd place.'
This post is not meant to make the hubs feel bad! It is something he cannot control, but I hate it just the same. But I think he is lucky to have gotten one tough, independent girl, because I can handle almost any situation on my own (with the help of my awesome friends of course!!) Hell, in the last year we handled a tornado, a flood, a broken sewer, and all that jazz! Just kidding dear, but anyhoo, at least you know I'm capable! Oh and as a tribute to my ladies:...............................................did you know July 8 is MY BIRTHDAY
My mind tonight is whirling at 100 mph and I so wish I could shut if off right now. I am more physically tired than I've been in a long time, but cannot sleep, like usual. Such is the life of the perpetual night owl.
Tonight what is on my mind is the hubby. He has been in Michigan working for almost 3 weeks and will be home for the first time tomorrow. He has had a very frustrating time over there, which I will not discuss here. Let's just say that his patience has been tried dearly, something that is not over-abundant with him as it is. Things are so bad for him right now that when I offered to pray for him, he agreed! He is not nearly as religious as I am.
As he is driving down the roads headed toward the WI Dells, I can't help but think about what I signed myself up for when I married him. He's gone, completely, utterly GONE 6 months of the year (8 when you consider deer hunting). He has never once spent my birthday with me, which may seem trivial for some, but in my family, your birthday is like the shining star of the year and his whole birthday month is made to be so. That is a Lundgren/Matara tradition that he took right kindly to LOL! But like I said, I knew what I was getting into, but I never knew it would be so hard.
Right now, my job as a 'Scott Construction' wife is to listen to every hardship and offer the advice I can (which in my line of work as a bartender surprisingly coordinates at times) with what Mike is dealing with!! I wish I could help with every scenario, but of course, there are times I cannot. It's also hard to hold everything in when Mike comes home, to just let him chill for a day or two. The words of a Miranda Lambert song come to mind: "He can't hide the worry on his face...and even though I got a million things to tell him, I know right now he just needs some space..."
Because of course anyone that knows me truly knows that sometimes I just want to stand up and scream and be the first thing on his mind! But those times in the summer are rare and few and far between. And it has me doubting things sometimes. Not gonna lie. But then I have to remember that I signed up for this, so dammit, I better know what I'm in for! But, I will say it 'outloud:' it is so hard to constantly be in 2nd place.'
This post is not meant to make the hubs feel bad! It is something he cannot control, but I hate it just the same. But I think he is lucky to have gotten one tough, independent girl, because I can handle almost any situation on my own (with the help of my awesome friends of course!!) Hell, in the last year we handled a tornado, a flood, a broken sewer, and all that jazz! Just kidding dear, but anyhoo, at least you know I'm capable! Oh and as a tribute to my ladies:...............................................did you know July 8 is MY BIRTHDAY
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Take Time to Smell the Roses & remembering George
I got home from work tonight, relatively early for me, before midnight. I have to get up early tomorrow to strip the wallpaper in my grandma's bathroom and ready it for painting, but of course I can't fall asleep yet. So I decided to weed through emails on Facebook and delete old ones and I came across the one my friend Alex sent me a year ago to tell me about our friend George's death, another one of the famous 'yoopers' that lived with me for over a year. I find it hard to believe that he's been gone a year already. It seems like yesterday I was driving to Alex's house in Gladstone, wondering how I was going to get through the funeral, since I don't do well with those at all.
For those of you who know me well, you know the story of the "yooper boarding house" that was my house. I have never met a more, well, lively bunch of people. They will forever be imprinted on my mind. I was living at the house on Cascade in RF and Derek had just moved out to move to the Cities. I was freaking because I didn't know how Chris and I were going to pay the rent by ourselves in that huge house and neither of us wanted to leave it, because like I said before, that house was magical to us. There was a group of guys from the U.P. staying at the motel next to Philander's and I had become pretty good friends with them since they were in Phil's every day. They wanted to get out of the motel to a cheaper place and I needed roommates, so the "yooper boarding house" was born. At first it was just 2 of them, but it soon grew to 5! Wow, me and a bunch of yoopers in one house. That was defintely interesting!! It honestly was one of the best times of my life.
The one I was the closest to and still am was Alex. When I first met him it was honestly like I had met my long lost brother that I had never met or knew existed. We clicked just like that. For once someone understood my loony sense of humor and my habit of wild spontaneity. He also saw me through some tough times, including love life crises and general shitty life, just like any good brother would do. I like to think I helped him through some tough times too, like missing his kids and his love life crises, like a good sister should do. I'm glad we're still friends to this day. We were at each other's throats a few times, but I guess that happens in every true 'family.'
The other 'yooper' I was the closest to was George. George was in his late 50s and was like a dad to me, a dad you could party with. But he always had good advice for me too, though God know I didn't always listen to him. Lord knows how he put up with living with a crazy party girl and 4 guys half his age. I always remember him drinking his beer and just shaking his head at all our shenanigans and telling us what idiots we were. You would have to know him to know what I mean. I know my friend Stacy and I ticked him off a few times when we would come home from the bars late at night and ring "that damn bell" that I had hanging by the front door. He would be so annoyed with us, but he still loved us anyway. George had a temper, but he was one of the kindest, sincere men I ever met. And I will never forget that god-awful "George coffee" that he would drink in the mornings on weekends. Coffee, Windsor and hazelnut creamer. He swore it cured just about anything. I think it just gave me a headache. But I would give anything to drink a cup of it right now--with him.
After the yooper boarding house came to an end, Alex and I moved into a house with Alex's then fiance and George moved into an apartment with Little George, another yooper, in RF. My beloved kitty Bootsy went with him since we couldn't have pets in our new house. Oh how George loved that cat. He spoiled him rotten and brushed him everyday and bought him the best food and treats. He always threatened to kidnap Boots and take him home to the U.P. Now I wish I would've let him, knowing how much joy that cat brought to him. He wasn't even that mad when Bootsy poked a hole in his air mattress with his incessant kneading of his claws.
Eventually George, Alex and I moved into a house together outside of Prescott. We didn't always get along, but those few months with them were some of the best. I was going through a rough period then, so I know I wasn't always the easiest to get along with. But I think George and Alex understood, because even when they moved out and I stayed there alone, we remained friends. One of the last times I saw George was when I brought them some mail that had come to my house.
Not long after, I moved to Wonewoc for a year, Mike's hometown. I saw George one more time on a visit home. I didn't get to talk to him long. If I would have known that was the last time I'd see him, I would have stayed there all weekend and soaked up his stories and words. We kept in contact regularly over the phone and he was a very good listener when I needed some advice. When I learned he had become sick with leukemia, I couldn't believe it. How had George gotten sick? He was one of the strongest, most stubborn people I had known. I talked to him a few times, and every time he said he was getting better, that the doctors at Mayo knew what they were doing, that he was tired, but was looking forward to going home to Sault Ste. Marie and spending time with his family and beloved dogs. But that wasn't to be.
He died last June and that fateful email came from Alex just when I returned home from a trip to St. Louis. Alex was wondering if I could make it up to the Soo for the funeral. I rearranged my work schedule and went the very next day. I wouldn't have missed it for anything. The 6 hour trip to Alex's house in Gladstone was one of the longest I've ever driven. Not because of the distance, but because of the feelings whirling through my head. I was so MAD at myself. WHY did I not go see George when he was going through treatment at Mayo? WHY did I believe him when he said he was going to be just fine and not to worry. WHY did I not take time out of my insane work schedule and go sit with him? I felt like the most selfish, horse's ass on the planet. All I could see in my head was a vision of him sitting in the white rocking chair on our porch laughing at all the stunts we would pull. And I knew I would never see him laugh like that again.
When I arrived in Gladstone, I had mixed feelings. It was great to see Alex again after almost a year and to be in the U.P. again, which I love and have many good memories of thanks to those guys. But the reason for my visit cast a somber tone over everything. Alex took it harder than I did, but George truly was a dad to him. Alex had lived with him away from home for years, day in day out, the good and the bad. It was hard to see my usually good-natured friend so sad.
I rode to the funeral with Alex and his friend Pat. The ride was full of reminiscing about George with many stories that I had never heard. I couldn't even talk most of the way, I was so overcome with guilt and sadness. Alex kept asking what was wrong with me, but I could barely answer. All I could think about was how I hadn't been there for George when he needed me. I know he had his family and many friends with him through his ordeal. But I should have been more present, as he always was for me.
Once we got to the funeral and sawy Little George, I could barely hold in my tears. I was reunited with one of my friends from the 'yooper boarding house' days, but it sucked that it was under these circumstances. When we walked into the visitation and I saw all the pictures of George, I had to go back out in the parking lot and collect myself. I am not good at funerals and this was no exception. It was actually almost worse. During the funeral Alex and George's daughters gave beautiful eulogies and I bawled all the way through. Then I bawled in the parking lot. After the funeral luncheon, George's family asked us to come to the house for a visit and I finally got to see George's home and his beloved dogs. And all I could do was sit there like a stone while his family told us how much we meant to him when he was living away from home in WI/MN. A big topic was George's obsession with Bootsy and how much comfort that little cat brought to George while he was away from home. The guilt was overwhelming.
On the way back to Gladstone, Alex kept asking me what was wrong. He said he was worried because he had never seen me so quiet and unresponsive. It was all I could do not to bawl my eyes out. Eventually I came out of it and we were able to have fun at a BBQ at Little George's house reminiscing abou the old days, some I was a part of, some I wasn't.
When I had to drive home the next day, that was literally the longest ride of my life. I cried buckets the entire way home. I was still so mad at myself that I finally had gotten around to seeing everyone again, but it took a funeral to do it. And it was too late to see George. He was gone, hopefully duck hunting in Heaven with his dogs, waiting for his family to join him someday. George, I miss you all the time and even though we only knew each other a short time, you made such an impact on me and I'm sad that I never told you. But I think you know. I know I had a wonderful grandfather who was a dad to me my whole life, but you also helped fill that void and I am forever grateful.
I guess the lesson I choose to take from this story is to never take anyone for granted because you never know when it will be too late. I still find myself getting obsessed with work and working too much with that always unreachable goal in the distance, that later I will do this, later I will do that. It's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, and I am working on spending time with those I love more often. I am doing better at it, but not good enough in my eyes. In my line of business it's hard to take weekends off, and that's when most of life's 'fun' events occur. So to those friends of mine that I don't get to see very often, please know that you are never far from my thoughts and that I love you so much, more than you will ever know. I am good at writing things, but not so good at saying them. I come across sometimes as prickly and sarcastic, but that is just my protective armor. I am truly a big sap inside.
Some good news (for me anyway) is that Alex is moving back here for awhile for work, so I'll get to see him more often. And my friend Chris is coming home from Japan this winter after many years, so again, I'll get to see him too. And tomorrow I will gladly strip wallpaper from my grandma's bathroom walls even though I will be tired as hell. But I will know that I did it and that it made her happy and that sometimes you have to take time to smell the roses, even when the train is moving so fast that getting off it seems impossible.
And George, even though your coffee really was horrid, save a cup for me. I think I will need it :)
For those of you who know me well, you know the story of the "yooper boarding house" that was my house. I have never met a more, well, lively bunch of people. They will forever be imprinted on my mind. I was living at the house on Cascade in RF and Derek had just moved out to move to the Cities. I was freaking because I didn't know how Chris and I were going to pay the rent by ourselves in that huge house and neither of us wanted to leave it, because like I said before, that house was magical to us. There was a group of guys from the U.P. staying at the motel next to Philander's and I had become pretty good friends with them since they were in Phil's every day. They wanted to get out of the motel to a cheaper place and I needed roommates, so the "yooper boarding house" was born. At first it was just 2 of them, but it soon grew to 5! Wow, me and a bunch of yoopers in one house. That was defintely interesting!! It honestly was one of the best times of my life.
The one I was the closest to and still am was Alex. When I first met him it was honestly like I had met my long lost brother that I had never met or knew existed. We clicked just like that. For once someone understood my loony sense of humor and my habit of wild spontaneity. He also saw me through some tough times, including love life crises and general shitty life, just like any good brother would do. I like to think I helped him through some tough times too, like missing his kids and his love life crises, like a good sister should do. I'm glad we're still friends to this day. We were at each other's throats a few times, but I guess that happens in every true 'family.'
The other 'yooper' I was the closest to was George. George was in his late 50s and was like a dad to me, a dad you could party with. But he always had good advice for me too, though God know I didn't always listen to him. Lord knows how he put up with living with a crazy party girl and 4 guys half his age. I always remember him drinking his beer and just shaking his head at all our shenanigans and telling us what idiots we were. You would have to know him to know what I mean. I know my friend Stacy and I ticked him off a few times when we would come home from the bars late at night and ring "that damn bell" that I had hanging by the front door. He would be so annoyed with us, but he still loved us anyway. George had a temper, but he was one of the kindest, sincere men I ever met. And I will never forget that god-awful "George coffee" that he would drink in the mornings on weekends. Coffee, Windsor and hazelnut creamer. He swore it cured just about anything. I think it just gave me a headache. But I would give anything to drink a cup of it right now--with him.
After the yooper boarding house came to an end, Alex and I moved into a house with Alex's then fiance and George moved into an apartment with Little George, another yooper, in RF. My beloved kitty Bootsy went with him since we couldn't have pets in our new house. Oh how George loved that cat. He spoiled him rotten and brushed him everyday and bought him the best food and treats. He always threatened to kidnap Boots and take him home to the U.P. Now I wish I would've let him, knowing how much joy that cat brought to him. He wasn't even that mad when Bootsy poked a hole in his air mattress with his incessant kneading of his claws.
Eventually George, Alex and I moved into a house together outside of Prescott. We didn't always get along, but those few months with them were some of the best. I was going through a rough period then, so I know I wasn't always the easiest to get along with. But I think George and Alex understood, because even when they moved out and I stayed there alone, we remained friends. One of the last times I saw George was when I brought them some mail that had come to my house.
Not long after, I moved to Wonewoc for a year, Mike's hometown. I saw George one more time on a visit home. I didn't get to talk to him long. If I would have known that was the last time I'd see him, I would have stayed there all weekend and soaked up his stories and words. We kept in contact regularly over the phone and he was a very good listener when I needed some advice. When I learned he had become sick with leukemia, I couldn't believe it. How had George gotten sick? He was one of the strongest, most stubborn people I had known. I talked to him a few times, and every time he said he was getting better, that the doctors at Mayo knew what they were doing, that he was tired, but was looking forward to going home to Sault Ste. Marie and spending time with his family and beloved dogs. But that wasn't to be.
He died last June and that fateful email came from Alex just when I returned home from a trip to St. Louis. Alex was wondering if I could make it up to the Soo for the funeral. I rearranged my work schedule and went the very next day. I wouldn't have missed it for anything. The 6 hour trip to Alex's house in Gladstone was one of the longest I've ever driven. Not because of the distance, but because of the feelings whirling through my head. I was so MAD at myself. WHY did I not go see George when he was going through treatment at Mayo? WHY did I believe him when he said he was going to be just fine and not to worry. WHY did I not take time out of my insane work schedule and go sit with him? I felt like the most selfish, horse's ass on the planet. All I could see in my head was a vision of him sitting in the white rocking chair on our porch laughing at all the stunts we would pull. And I knew I would never see him laugh like that again.
When I arrived in Gladstone, I had mixed feelings. It was great to see Alex again after almost a year and to be in the U.P. again, which I love and have many good memories of thanks to those guys. But the reason for my visit cast a somber tone over everything. Alex took it harder than I did, but George truly was a dad to him. Alex had lived with him away from home for years, day in day out, the good and the bad. It was hard to see my usually good-natured friend so sad.
I rode to the funeral with Alex and his friend Pat. The ride was full of reminiscing about George with many stories that I had never heard. I couldn't even talk most of the way, I was so overcome with guilt and sadness. Alex kept asking what was wrong with me, but I could barely answer. All I could think about was how I hadn't been there for George when he needed me. I know he had his family and many friends with him through his ordeal. But I should have been more present, as he always was for me.
Once we got to the funeral and sawy Little George, I could barely hold in my tears. I was reunited with one of my friends from the 'yooper boarding house' days, but it sucked that it was under these circumstances. When we walked into the visitation and I saw all the pictures of George, I had to go back out in the parking lot and collect myself. I am not good at funerals and this was no exception. It was actually almost worse. During the funeral Alex and George's daughters gave beautiful eulogies and I bawled all the way through. Then I bawled in the parking lot. After the funeral luncheon, George's family asked us to come to the house for a visit and I finally got to see George's home and his beloved dogs. And all I could do was sit there like a stone while his family told us how much we meant to him when he was living away from home in WI/MN. A big topic was George's obsession with Bootsy and how much comfort that little cat brought to George while he was away from home. The guilt was overwhelming.
On the way back to Gladstone, Alex kept asking me what was wrong. He said he was worried because he had never seen me so quiet and unresponsive. It was all I could do not to bawl my eyes out. Eventually I came out of it and we were able to have fun at a BBQ at Little George's house reminiscing abou the old days, some I was a part of, some I wasn't.
When I had to drive home the next day, that was literally the longest ride of my life. I cried buckets the entire way home. I was still so mad at myself that I finally had gotten around to seeing everyone again, but it took a funeral to do it. And it was too late to see George. He was gone, hopefully duck hunting in Heaven with his dogs, waiting for his family to join him someday. George, I miss you all the time and even though we only knew each other a short time, you made such an impact on me and I'm sad that I never told you. But I think you know. I know I had a wonderful grandfather who was a dad to me my whole life, but you also helped fill that void and I am forever grateful.
I guess the lesson I choose to take from this story is to never take anyone for granted because you never know when it will be too late. I still find myself getting obsessed with work and working too much with that always unreachable goal in the distance, that later I will do this, later I will do that. It's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, and I am working on spending time with those I love more often. I am doing better at it, but not good enough in my eyes. In my line of business it's hard to take weekends off, and that's when most of life's 'fun' events occur. So to those friends of mine that I don't get to see very often, please know that you are never far from my thoughts and that I love you so much, more than you will ever know. I am good at writing things, but not so good at saying them. I come across sometimes as prickly and sarcastic, but that is just my protective armor. I am truly a big sap inside.
Some good news (for me anyway) is that Alex is moving back here for awhile for work, so I'll get to see him more often. And my friend Chris is coming home from Japan this winter after many years, so again, I'll get to see him too. And tomorrow I will gladly strip wallpaper from my grandma's bathroom walls even though I will be tired as hell. But I will know that I did it and that it made her happy and that sometimes you have to take time to smell the roses, even when the train is moving so fast that getting off it seems impossible.
And George, even though your coffee really was horrid, save a cup for me. I think I will need it :)
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Tribute to Friends
It's about 130 in the morning and I can't sleep again. Sometimes I just can't shut my mind off when it's bedtime. It just seems to swirl round and round with random thoughts and the only way I can get them to calm down is to write about them. I always do my best writing at night anyway, when the house is quiet and everyone is asleep.
In a couple of hours I'll be sending Mike on the road again for another long work week and the house will be silent and empty once again. Don't get me wrong, there are times that I cherish that. I grew up an only child so I am used to being on my own quite a bit with lots of quiet time for reading and mulling over my thoughts. Marriage has been a HUGE adjustment for me in that aspect. Having someone around all the time sometimes has me at my wit's end. I need and crave alone time. But there are times during the week when it gets pretty lonely and I feel like I am the last person on earth. That's why I'm so incredibly lucky to have the friends I do. Fifteen years ago I never would have imagined that I'd have so many friends who I cherish and adore.
Growing up I was definitely a loner. I never had many friends, but that never really bothered me. I had my two best friends, Derek and Meghan and my good friend Jenny. What more did I need? I was never popular in school. Honestly, I was considered a dork. I was quiet, shy and felt awkward most of the time. I was introspective and hid most of my thoughts and feelings. I never dreamed there was an outgoing girl in there just waiting to burst out. I didn't fully come out of my shell until I started working at South Fork Cafe in River Falls and started college. Anyone who has ever worked in a restaurant knows that it's impossible to remain shy while working in one. Somehow, I let my true self out and was shocked when people responded to that.
I slowly began to make more friends while working at that cafe. One night my friend Kristin and I went to a party and that is when a huge turning point in my life came. I met a guy named Adam at that party. We danced together all night, but when my friend started getting hit on by a really creepy guy, we told Adam we were going to the bathroom and then ditched the party and ran to the car. I never thought I'd see him again. He was seven years older than me and we didn't run in the same circles. Lo and behold though, one day he called me. My first thought was 'how the hell did he get my phone number?' Turns out my friend Joey playing in the band talked to Adam at the end of the night and pretended to be my older brother and gave Adam my phone number.
It wasn't long before Kristin and I were hanging out at Adam's house all the time with him and his roommates Dave, Chris and Kelly. They lived in an awesome house overlooking the falls by the swinging bridge in River Falls. That house still has legendary status in my circle of friends. It was our paradise. It was in town, yet it didn't feel like it was since it overlooked Glen Park and the river. A few months later I moved in with all those guys and so began the years of living at the 'Cascade House.' And those remain the best years of my life.
That house remains the center of almost every friendship I've ever made, excluding the wonderful friends I've made through working at Philander's. But that house has a part in most of those friendships too. It was the place we all congregated and hung out. I have so many memories of that house. Terrible ones, but mostly good ones that I'll cherish until the day I die. We had so many parties there that I can't even count. People would drop in every day just to hang out, party or not. This time of year I always find myself missing that place terribly. Maybe because during the summer we were either on the screen porch or out by the fire pit almost every night of the week. Magic is the best word to describe that place.
I made so many lasting friendships while living in that house, friendships that continue to thrive to this day.
Adam has been one of the rocks in my life since the fateful night of that long ago party. Though we didn't end up together, he has remained one of my best friends. Who can forget the time he told me I was "growing on him like fungus"? Or the "Adster dance" that comes out when he's had too many of his "cocktails." He saw me through a couple horrible breakups and medical procedures and I saw him through the same. When he moved to CA to be with a girlfriend and was super unhappy, I lent him the money to move home. And I know he would do the same for me. His sense of humor is like no other on this earth. He was a groomsman at my wedding.
Through Adam I met the Kennedy clan of Butternut. They are one of the best families I know. I am proud they made me an honorary 'sister.' Chris, who lives in Japan now with his wife, is one of the smartest people I know and I miss him dearly. He is the only one who could challenge me at Trivial Pursuit. Kelly and Carrie, his sisters, are like my sisters. I am honored to be the godmother to Kelly's little girl, Alison. I was even there to witness her birth and was one of the first ones to hold her. After all, she was almost born in the back seat of my Tempo lol. Carrie lives in Altoona now and Kelly in Mosinee and even though we don't get to see each other nearly as much as we would like, I know they will always be my 'sisters.'
I also have many hilarious memories of my friends Stacy and Jess, who I met through a boyfriend of mine. They are my girls. No matter how stupid we act or if we say something thoughtless, we always forgive each other. That is what true friends do. My favorite memory of them is celebrating their birthdays in May at the house. A neighbor must have thought we were having too much fun because we got called in for a noise violation. When the police came to tell us to quiet down, they just kept sitting in the rocking chairs on the patio screaming "But it's MY BIRTHDAY!!" Yeah, we got a noise ticket that night. Whether we're sitting on a curb crying or racing down I-94 singing about alfalfa fields, there is never a dull moment with them. And that's what I love about them.
Philander's has also brought me many wonderful friendships that I never expected. Nicole, Megan and Erin also became regulars at the Cascade House doings along with a few others. But those three to this day remain my closest friends from there. I know that I can tell anything to Nicole and she will never judge or make me feel bad. Erin is always the one I can laugh with for hours, probably because her laugh is so infectious. Megan is always tells it like it is, and I admire that a lot. Dibbo's nights, 7 Bottles of Wine night, WOP parties...the list of memories is too long to write about here. I am thankful that Nicole hired me at Philander's or we never all would have been friends.
And how could I ever forget my time living at that house with all the crazy guys from the U.P? I met them all at Philander's too. Alex and Jeremy needed a place to live and I needed roommates so they moved in. Soon, more of their friends came from the U.P. to work at the refinery and before I knew it I had five 'yoopers' living with me. It was the yooper boarding house. Those couple of years were absolutely insane but so much fun. Some of them, especially Alex's cousin Jason, loved to torment me and tease me to death. Alex became one of my best friends and still is, even though he ended up moving back to MI. We had our moments where we didn't get along, but for the most part, he is the brother I never had. Whenever I see an astro van I think of me and Nicole hanging on for dear life sailing through the trees next to the Burger King drive thru. Let's just say he probably never should go there again. And Big George was always like the dad of our group, overseeing all our shenanigans and shaking his head. We lost him to leukemia last year and I miss him every day.
Derek has been my best friend for 26 years. He lived with me for a few years at the Cascade House too. I know he wasn't too fond of all the parties we had, but I know he misses it there too. Derek understands me like no other human being on this earth. He always seems to know what I'm thinking. He has seen me through every happy event and every catastrophe of my life and has rarely waivered. There is no more loyal friend to be found. He accepts every single thing about me: my tendency to be bossy, my stubborness, my drama, everything. Thank God we both were naughty in kindergarten and got put at the 'naughty' table. The bond we made there is still strong 26 years later.
My last couple blogs have been tributes to family. This one is to my friends. The people not mentioned here, like Kim, Pete, Sarah, Mandy, Meghan, Michelle, everyone else, you are all important to me too. If I wrote about everyone this blog would be even longer than it already is. I love you all though, with all my heart.
Like I mentioned, I never dreamed I would have such a big network of true friends. People naturally tend to talk about the bad things in their lives more than the good. Whenever I am having a really bad day, I just try to remember how blessed I am to have such a big friend family. And when Mike is on the road, I know I am never too far away from any of them and feel a bit less lonely. Thank you to all of my true friends, for accepting me just the way I am, the good and bad.
In a couple of hours I'll be sending Mike on the road again for another long work week and the house will be silent and empty once again. Don't get me wrong, there are times that I cherish that. I grew up an only child so I am used to being on my own quite a bit with lots of quiet time for reading and mulling over my thoughts. Marriage has been a HUGE adjustment for me in that aspect. Having someone around all the time sometimes has me at my wit's end. I need and crave alone time. But there are times during the week when it gets pretty lonely and I feel like I am the last person on earth. That's why I'm so incredibly lucky to have the friends I do. Fifteen years ago I never would have imagined that I'd have so many friends who I cherish and adore.
Growing up I was definitely a loner. I never had many friends, but that never really bothered me. I had my two best friends, Derek and Meghan and my good friend Jenny. What more did I need? I was never popular in school. Honestly, I was considered a dork. I was quiet, shy and felt awkward most of the time. I was introspective and hid most of my thoughts and feelings. I never dreamed there was an outgoing girl in there just waiting to burst out. I didn't fully come out of my shell until I started working at South Fork Cafe in River Falls and started college. Anyone who has ever worked in a restaurant knows that it's impossible to remain shy while working in one. Somehow, I let my true self out and was shocked when people responded to that.
I slowly began to make more friends while working at that cafe. One night my friend Kristin and I went to a party and that is when a huge turning point in my life came. I met a guy named Adam at that party. We danced together all night, but when my friend started getting hit on by a really creepy guy, we told Adam we were going to the bathroom and then ditched the party and ran to the car. I never thought I'd see him again. He was seven years older than me and we didn't run in the same circles. Lo and behold though, one day he called me. My first thought was 'how the hell did he get my phone number?' Turns out my friend Joey playing in the band talked to Adam at the end of the night and pretended to be my older brother and gave Adam my phone number.
It wasn't long before Kristin and I were hanging out at Adam's house all the time with him and his roommates Dave, Chris and Kelly. They lived in an awesome house overlooking the falls by the swinging bridge in River Falls. That house still has legendary status in my circle of friends. It was our paradise. It was in town, yet it didn't feel like it was since it overlooked Glen Park and the river. A few months later I moved in with all those guys and so began the years of living at the 'Cascade House.' And those remain the best years of my life.
That house remains the center of almost every friendship I've ever made, excluding the wonderful friends I've made through working at Philander's. But that house has a part in most of those friendships too. It was the place we all congregated and hung out. I have so many memories of that house. Terrible ones, but mostly good ones that I'll cherish until the day I die. We had so many parties there that I can't even count. People would drop in every day just to hang out, party or not. This time of year I always find myself missing that place terribly. Maybe because during the summer we were either on the screen porch or out by the fire pit almost every night of the week. Magic is the best word to describe that place.
I made so many lasting friendships while living in that house, friendships that continue to thrive to this day.
Adam has been one of the rocks in my life since the fateful night of that long ago party. Though we didn't end up together, he has remained one of my best friends. Who can forget the time he told me I was "growing on him like fungus"? Or the "Adster dance" that comes out when he's had too many of his "cocktails." He saw me through a couple horrible breakups and medical procedures and I saw him through the same. When he moved to CA to be with a girlfriend and was super unhappy, I lent him the money to move home. And I know he would do the same for me. His sense of humor is like no other on this earth. He was a groomsman at my wedding.
Through Adam I met the Kennedy clan of Butternut. They are one of the best families I know. I am proud they made me an honorary 'sister.' Chris, who lives in Japan now with his wife, is one of the smartest people I know and I miss him dearly. He is the only one who could challenge me at Trivial Pursuit. Kelly and Carrie, his sisters, are like my sisters. I am honored to be the godmother to Kelly's little girl, Alison. I was even there to witness her birth and was one of the first ones to hold her. After all, she was almost born in the back seat of my Tempo lol. Carrie lives in Altoona now and Kelly in Mosinee and even though we don't get to see each other nearly as much as we would like, I know they will always be my 'sisters.'
I also have many hilarious memories of my friends Stacy and Jess, who I met through a boyfriend of mine. They are my girls. No matter how stupid we act or if we say something thoughtless, we always forgive each other. That is what true friends do. My favorite memory of them is celebrating their birthdays in May at the house. A neighbor must have thought we were having too much fun because we got called in for a noise violation. When the police came to tell us to quiet down, they just kept sitting in the rocking chairs on the patio screaming "But it's MY BIRTHDAY!!" Yeah, we got a noise ticket that night. Whether we're sitting on a curb crying or racing down I-94 singing about alfalfa fields, there is never a dull moment with them. And that's what I love about them.
Philander's has also brought me many wonderful friendships that I never expected. Nicole, Megan and Erin also became regulars at the Cascade House doings along with a few others. But those three to this day remain my closest friends from there. I know that I can tell anything to Nicole and she will never judge or make me feel bad. Erin is always the one I can laugh with for hours, probably because her laugh is so infectious. Megan is always tells it like it is, and I admire that a lot. Dibbo's nights, 7 Bottles of Wine night, WOP parties...the list of memories is too long to write about here. I am thankful that Nicole hired me at Philander's or we never all would have been friends.
And how could I ever forget my time living at that house with all the crazy guys from the U.P? I met them all at Philander's too. Alex and Jeremy needed a place to live and I needed roommates so they moved in. Soon, more of their friends came from the U.P. to work at the refinery and before I knew it I had five 'yoopers' living with me. It was the yooper boarding house. Those couple of years were absolutely insane but so much fun. Some of them, especially Alex's cousin Jason, loved to torment me and tease me to death. Alex became one of my best friends and still is, even though he ended up moving back to MI. We had our moments where we didn't get along, but for the most part, he is the brother I never had. Whenever I see an astro van I think of me and Nicole hanging on for dear life sailing through the trees next to the Burger King drive thru. Let's just say he probably never should go there again. And Big George was always like the dad of our group, overseeing all our shenanigans and shaking his head. We lost him to leukemia last year and I miss him every day.
Derek has been my best friend for 26 years. He lived with me for a few years at the Cascade House too. I know he wasn't too fond of all the parties we had, but I know he misses it there too. Derek understands me like no other human being on this earth. He always seems to know what I'm thinking. He has seen me through every happy event and every catastrophe of my life and has rarely waivered. There is no more loyal friend to be found. He accepts every single thing about me: my tendency to be bossy, my stubborness, my drama, everything. Thank God we both were naughty in kindergarten and got put at the 'naughty' table. The bond we made there is still strong 26 years later.
My last couple blogs have been tributes to family. This one is to my friends. The people not mentioned here, like Kim, Pete, Sarah, Mandy, Meghan, Michelle, everyone else, you are all important to me too. If I wrote about everyone this blog would be even longer than it already is. I love you all though, with all my heart.
Like I mentioned, I never dreamed I would have such a big network of true friends. People naturally tend to talk about the bad things in their lives more than the good. Whenever I am having a really bad day, I just try to remember how blessed I am to have such a big friend family. And when Mike is on the road, I know I am never too far away from any of them and feel a bit less lonely. Thank you to all of my true friends, for accepting me just the way I am, the good and bad.
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