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Right now I’m having flashbacks to the days when my parents would storm into my bedroom once a year with trash bags and threats of sending me to a homeless shelter and make me clean the train wreck that was my bedroom. I’d end up spending the entire day in there, sorting all my junk into piles of clothes, stuffed animals, books, papers to keep, and papers that if I have to throw away something can go. Inevitably, I’d reach the end of the project and sit in the middle of the floor with my one last cubic foot of “stuff” and cry. It’s not that I was sad to be finished. It was that that last little bit just confounded me like a Cubist painting. Nothing seemed to make sense enough to sort.
Yeah, my house is like that right now. That’s why I’m on the computer right now. I’ve actually cleaned off about half of the stuff that was on the coffee table this morning. (The dogs are a real help.)
The kitchen is coming along. I actually have four cabinets cleared now.
My idea was to store the boxes as I filled them in our guest room.
Having to give a dog this kind of medicine certainly doesn’t add to the fun.
I’m also trying to clean out the freezer, and that’s a story in itself. At least today’s surprise label cracked me up. I never forget to stir, but enjoying the flavors of frozen tuna casserole on my tongue might slip my mind.
Winnipeg, my Great Dane puppy, was outside yesterday running in the
yard while I stood there growing more and more impatient with her. Puppies don’t seem to understand that taking care of business isn’t supposed to be a major activity. I think this dog needs to be on Ritalin because she apparently heard an ant drop a bread crumb in the neighbor’s yard and stopped to debate if she needed to run over and offer her assistance. In the middle of said pondering, Winnie glanced over at me, slowly turned her head around as close as possible to her rear end, and started sniffing. She looked back over at me with that look…that “did you get a whiff of what just came out of there?” look. I assured her that I did not and was very happy that I did not because the look in that dog’s eyes told me all I needed to know. Dog farts are most certainly dangerous forces that should be unleashed only on drivers who cut in line and people who don’t flush public toilets.
Today was a blast. Hamburgers. Hotdogs. Bratwurst. (Oh, my!) Potato chips. Rum punch. Key lime pie. I floated around the swimming pool on my $1.50 Wal-Mart float along with Nadia and Sarah. Alan played pool. The dogs watched and dreamed up plans for joining me on the float without getting their coats wet. (They are made of sugar, you know, and will melt like the Wicked Witch of the West when wet.) We ate and told stories and laughed and soaked up the sweetness of the sun and friendship (and my dear one’s grilling skills).
After the sun set, Nadia and I stretched out on the pool deck and watched the homemade light show and talked. (Earlier today I bought a floating pool strobe light and could hardly wait until the sun went down so I could try it out.) As I stared into the blue and green orbs below, I was struck by the moment itself. Two people outside talking about life. In my book, life doesn’t get much better than this. I realized all over again that the moment was a very special gift for me.
I spent the better part of my childhood taking care of my family and worrying about their well-being and trying desperately to be a “good girl” so my parents wouldn’t worry about me the way I worried about them. I missed out on a lot of typical kid stuff…like pool parties with friends…because I was (1) too afraid to be away from home that long in case it fell apart without me or (2) too afraid that I wouldn’t fit in at the party. And here I was tonight, feeling very much like a teenager (the good parts, anyway), and not worrying about my home falling apart without me and not worried that I wouldn’t fit in. I guess I can’t accurately describe here just what I was feeling, but this wasn’t the first time. God finds ways to give back to me those moments I missed because of a situation entirely beyond my control.
While we were talking about everything from men to our own psyches (with some pop culture thrown in), I was struck with how all of us stumble through life. There is no such thing as a perfect childhood with perfect parents in the perfect family. It’s a myth. And we all face the insecurities and trauma of adolescence. The bottom line is that there is no one on this planet without life scars. The Third Eye Blind lyric pounded in my head, “Everyone has got to face down their demons.” I started to cry.
This world is filled with broken people. It breaks my heart…not that we’re broken…but that we refuse to acknowledge it. I can’t help but wonder what would happen if we would go ahead and let the world see behind the facade. What would happen if closed the puppet show and lived on the outside of the curtain? You see, this is also part of my gift tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually taken the moment to think like that…and allow myself to feel such an overwhelming sensation. Two years of therapy are finally beginning to piece themselves together. How exciting!
Thank you, Lord, for these gifts today!
This pretty much sums up the way I’ve felt lately.
I tend to hide it well, but rumbling beneath the surface of my soul is a beast fraught with anger and fear and insecurity.
