Could it be already?

Six months ago today my world changed.  Mary Died.  She died from a Aortic .  I just found out that many people believed that she died of Cancer.  I found that one hard to believe,  but then I realized that all her behavior would lead anyone to believe that.  She closed her self off from everyone dropped a ton of weight and stopped being social all together.  I am sure that store clerks had more interaction with her because all she seemed  to do in her last year on earth was to shop.  But could it be already that six months has passed?

In six months life has been the same but different.  My dad seems to be getting along alright.  He is being a total rock star and short of doing yoga is physically in the best shape of his life.  Mean while I have  donuts for breakfast and I can barley keep up with my trainer.  Anyway I digress.

My children are happy, they seemingly drive me crazy but what is love for???? It drives you crazy.  I could say I am happy and life is the bomb, but its not all explosions of colors or the rainbow I would love, I am having to put up with a whole lot of rain in order to get it…and literally we have had a lot of rain so far this month.

I think my happy pills are wearing off or not strong enough because all the things I want to do never seem to get done.  Not even one task can be accomplished as of late.  Tried so very hard to get out of town and go see my best friend to get a little R &R but that was short lived too.

I guess trying to fight for joy is becoming harder everyday.  I don’t understand it.  I am making the choices. Doing what is right, praying, living.  But the daily grind is bottomless.  Reading this book and that book seems to be useless and maybe filling my head with more junk concidering I cannot sort out the junk that’s already in it.  I look at the junk in my house and my garage and in my kids room and there it is staring me in the face as if taunting me.  The dumpster urge is still there.  Throw it all out, everything.

So what does this post have to with Mary??? everything I guess.  I cannot talk to her about any of it.  I cannot call her and ask advice on what to do about shaving my daughters arm pits, or what do do about my older skin, and should I wax my face or shave it?  Or why does going to Home Depot makes me cry when I go down the lighting aisle? Why is my period lasting more than five days?  Or when I see thistle in a shop and its not antique and I wanted to buy it for her and surprise her with it.  I cannot call her and tell her dad is acting like a teenager and help me with him!  Why now, he has decided that being older is not as cool as being younger.

I think the biggest thing is I cannot call and ask her to take the kids or her call me and offer.  Or tell her how mad I am about stupid things the men in my life do.  I cannot tell her all the special things that the baby is doing and how wicked smart he is and how I am still holding my breath with him as he makes my hair turn grey because I don’t feel ready to have a baby this smart.  How I get disappointed in my kids over the little things and she would remind me that they are kids.   Then I would get mad at her because I was looking for her to agree with me and she didn’t.  I cannot tell her how I worry if I am doing something right in regards to the kids or my husband.  I genuinely worry about all of it.

So could it be already? Its been this long, this short, this day?  Six months ago it all changed.

Lesson number 4,851….

life is a numbers game and Mary’s lessons always came in the form of a number.

that many years ago…

I am this old now…

I used to have this many dishes…

I don’t have enough of that…

this is lesson 1, 238…

What time does this happen…

I need to put this on the Calendar…

How long to do you cook that for…

What is the measurement for the flower…

Its been about a month…

Seeming useless thoughts all rolled into one jumbled numbered mess.  This post today does not have any real meaning other than I have started using more numbers lately to get things done thanks to Mel Robbins ” 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, … and Mary.  The numbers game has been effective in making myself and the kids do things around the house I yell out “5,4,3,2,1!”  And I think my daughter said she was going to count down this morning before getting out of bed and when she did she was going to holler out “BLAST OFF” after she counted down.  But back to Mary, she used numbers in daily life.

Mary always would give me a lesson on life and she would number it.  It was never in order so I gather that life’s lessons were infinite.  So with my kids I pick a number and roll with it.  She did that… She rolled with it.

IT representing time.  In which Time is a number or serious of numbers to calculate time of day, year, season and what ever else you want to categorize it by.  Time is precious. Time is it.  I could go on.  But none the less,  whether you go for long periods of time or sprint to a finish.  Take five seconds and tell someone you love them. Take a minute, put your hair up, drink coffee and roll with the day.  Either way, take the time you need to get it done, teach the lesson, spend the money.  Take the numbers and make them count.

Lesson number 4,851….

 

The Women in our Lives

Two weeks ago was all about honoring the important women in our lives.  I think that we should be honoring them everyday.  I only have pictured two women that have influenced my life, but I can think of thousands through out my life that have impacted me on so many levels.

Since my blog is generally about Mary, and how to cope with life without her…I will speak to her truth.  The truth is, she never had to be a mother to me.  She was my stepmother.  She never had to show me how to brush my hair, put on makeup much less teach me anything.  We had no blood connection, no other connection other than she married my dad.

But she was a woman.  She was a woman who loved so fiercely and was so compassionate.  She knew how to be grateful, how to be graceful, but firm.  She knew her faith could make mountains.  She loved “you” no matter what.  She was always honest, and she did get hysterical when something didn’t sit well with her.  Yet no matter how mad she got, or how disappointed she may have been, she “loved.”

Every thing from washing dishes to folding sheets, everything had a lesson.  “Do everything with intention,” she would say.  She made everything look beautiful.  I always asked her where she learned it,  she would reply, “my mother.”

I’ve been blessed in my life with my birth mother, and I have been blessed with all the other women in my life that impacted me along the way. I can say that the females in my life whether friend or family or simply a customer in my store, have had an impact.

Over the weekend I got so sad and deeply grieved her.  I find that picking up the phone to call her, usually on weekends, doesn’t and can’t happen.  She always had time to talk with me.  Some days I have questions and she was my “go to.” She was my perspective.

But what I can say is this… That no matter the loss I have suffered, the love I got from her out weighs the suffering.  Her love has taught me to love, to be patient, and kind.  I try to always offer a compliment if I see something I really like on someone.  The other day I chased down a girl in Target to tell her ( I yelled it at her more or less) because I had to tell her I loved her hair… those are the little things Mary would do everyday to make someone feel good.

So when we honor women, we should honor what they taught us, good and bad.  I say this because we have all been in a situation with another woman that caused us problems, pain or doubt even so much as cost us friendships and relationships.  We all have something to gain by surrounding ourselves with passionate women who love deeply.  We all have something to gain by calling our mothers and those closest to us our hero’s.  We need to be in love with our selves as our mothers and those that have raised us see us.

We have the ability to give birth, so we naturally can give love.  We want to be loved and when we see that we are loved by those closest to us the suffering doesn’t seem so bad     (only if we choose to accept it).  I tend to cry washing dishes, that’s when my thoughts are my own and I think about Mary.  It happens more often than I want, but my little girl who is five always wonders in the kitchen at that point and doesn’t say anything, just wraps her little arms around me and gives me hugs.  She hates to see me cry, but I have to tell her its because I miss “grandma Mary.”  She understands somehow even at five and she looks up at me and says that she cries too.  She misses her too.

So I say cry when it comes, don’t fight it, let it happen and honor the women in your life everyday by teaching the lesson’s that they taught you.   Use the gifts of love, compassion, courage and your work ethic to make your point.  Honor thy self in ways that makes women proud of one another.  Take care of yourself, show respect for yourself so that we can show our self worth through action.  Be proud of yourselves and be proud of all the women all over the world because we can give life, give grace, be love.  We can be what we already are…beautiful women with beautiful gifts.

I will leave you with one of my favorite women quotes from one of my favorite movies… Its meant to be funny but in the spirit of women its more valuable then ever… Be that as it may…

“God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. God Creates man. Man destroys God.  Man creates dinosaurs.” – Malcolm from Jurassic Park

“Dinosaurs eat man. Woman inherit the Earth.”  – Ellie from Jurassic Park

jurassicpark

Mountain Top

Last weekend I attended church for the first time since Mary passed away.  I was not happy about going.  Not because it was church but because my Dad was supposed to take the kids to church and promised that he would.  I texted him and called him but no answer.  All my kids were dressed and waiting.  I did not hear from him it was 20 minutes to start time.

I got emotional instantly.  I was totally upset.  I didn’t want to go.  Not because I was not ready, I just feel differently about church these days.  Mary always wanted me to go to church more.  She wanted to make sure that I was worshiping, being in fellowship and most importantly learning about the Gods message in scripture.

I cried all the way to church.  The kids went their ways and I was in the main sanctuary and listening to announcements and a picture came to mind… It was on a mountain top, the cross over looked a valley in the mountains.  It was the place I took communion and fully accepted Jesus as my savior.  I was just a teenager, but it was that place and everything about that place that I felt closer to God then ever before.  Ever since that time in the mountains my church has not been tied to a building within 4 walls.  My Church has been the world and all that God has created.  Love, Compassion, Fellowship have always been my guiding principles.

But at the root of it all, Mary has always been my spiritual guide.  I can on few occasions not been right with God, but she never once gave up on me, or judged me for that.  She always new my heart was in the right place and believed me that I was right with the Lord.  I know in my heart that I am right with the lord and I know that I don’t need a building to reinforce that belief.  I need this picture.  I need Mary’s reassuring “Pray about it,” This picture, this place, and Mary will live in my heart forever.

Mary never saw this place, but I was able to describe it and live it for her all the years we were together.  She was like this picture…pure and simple.  Her love was all encompassing but so simple too.  So profound, yet so easy.  God should be that way.  Faith should be that way.  Being love should be our mantra.  Mary was not only an angel of God but she embodied God.  She was a reflection of that love.

This picture, this place and Mary is where my heart knew about that love.  That is where my heart will go when I am troubled, I will find that place where I knew true love.  So why was I so upset that I had to go to church??? Maybe it was promise made that was broken, maybe it was a place that only some and very few really live this love that I am speaking.  Maybe our world is so quick to judge that most of it happens with in those walls and to be honest…I don’t need that kind of judgement.  God knows that… My Church will always resemble this place high upon that Mountain Top.