Patience, Faith and Love

Patience...
My Dad has never been known for his patience. As I grew older, I soon learned that my patience was on the same level as his. I was quick to anger, would blow my top, then walk away. I was slow to forgive, and I NEVER forgot.

I'm not sure exactly when this changed for me. But as I grew older, I became more patient, more forgiving and it takes a lot to get me angry enough to lose my temper.

I now find myself striving more to keep my patience. With my Son and most especially with my Ex. Although, I may struggle sometimes with my son, I'm getting better with him. I can only hope that as he grows older, he will understand that I did the best I could. I have so far managed to keep my patience with my Ex. There are too many things I could say that would hurt him, and I know that he is already hurting. I wish he could realize many things and find the path to moving on with his life.

(If you have a problem with religion skip the next part...)

Faith...
When I was younger, I struggled mightily with my faith. My Dad was raised very strict Catholic. My Mom joined the Catholic church later in life. Her attitude is little more relaxed than Dad's, but she is very strong in her faith. I think I rebelled so much because I was made to go every Sunday and didn't really understand why.

I actually left the church for several years. I was angry at the Church, and had taken many issues with "organized religion". When I found my way back to the Church, it was through many hours of deep contemplation and guidance from my Mom. Thank you for that Mom.

As I've traveled down the path of divorce, I have found myself taking great strength from my faith. I'm learning more about myself and the depth of passion I have for God. When I feel weak, I close my eyes and give all my worries, fears, and concerns to God. It surprised me how much it helps to do that.

I have to honestly say, I had never really felt "the hand of God" in my heart and soul. One reason why I couldn't understand going every Sunday and having such passion for God as I had seen so many others have, that is until a couple of weeks ago.

I knelt there praying, waiting for mass to begin. I had been struggling again, feeling unable to cope with my hurts. I prayed, I opened my heart, I asked for the strength to continue and suddenly I felt Him. My heart felt lighter, the burden was still there, but perhaps not as heavy as it had been. Tears came to my eyes as for the first in my 33 years, I Felt Him and His Love for me.

What a powerful feeling...even now I am still awed by the feeling.

Love...
The greatest gift in this world is Love. I am constantly amazed by the Love I see in those around me. When I feel at my lowest, and that I couldn't possible go on, something reminds me that I am surrounded by Love. The reminders come from not only the family I was born into, but the family of friends who have chosen to be in my life. Sometimes it's as simple as a message on Facebook, a phone call or a forwarded e-mail. It's those precious moments when my Son tells me he loves me and asks for a hug. I am fortunate to have so much Love in my life.

It's easy sometimes to forget the love of family and friends when my heart aches. I often find myself jealous of those around me. They have found the love of a true partner and best friend in their significant other. Me? I couldn't hold my marriage together. Looking back, I have discovered that it really wasn't that healthy of a relationship. I am moving on, looking towards the future, even if it is a future that sometimes looks bleak. I often ask myself, why? Why is it the one guy I felt interest in, disappeared when he found out I had a son? Why is it a very good, married friend thought there something more than friendship there and destroyed the friendship by acting on those thoughts? Why is it, the only guy who wants to date me and be a part of my life is the Ex?

I've been divorced for one year and three months. I journey along the path, stoically accepting the pot holes and bumps. I remind myself daily, that there is hope, but I must have patience, faith and love...and really, that's all that matters.

Faith and Love...

On bended knee
Oh God above,
with all my faith and love
I pray to thee...

Not to take this burden from me,
Nay Lord,
with all my faith and love
I pray to thee

Give me the strength
to carry mine own burden
Lend me the strength
to help carry her burden too

On bended knee
Oh God above
all my faith and love
I pray to thee

Let me light her way
through the darkness
as so often
she has done for me

On bended knee
Oh God above
my faith and love
I pray to thee

...it's been too long since I've felt the muse of poetry...there's more here..but I just can't get it out yet...sigh

Maybe later I can refine and finish...

Hurt...

I feel like I've been neglecting my blog, but at the same time, with the Holidays and being sick for most of the last month, I just haven't felt like writing...it's been bugging me though, so here's a new entry...

I am a huge fan of Johnny Cash. I love his music...really it's hard to put into words how his music can move me...

Every time I listen to "Hurt", his last song, it moves me to tears. I think mostly because it hits so close to how I feel anymore.

My Son has taken to calling me bad mommy when he gets into trouble or doesn't get what he wants. No matter how many times he's called me that and even though I know he doesn't really mean it, Oh God, it hurts. I've never given in to him when uses that, but still...

I'm exhausted...emotionally, mentally and every way in between. It just seems that every time there's something positive to look forward to, there's two things going wrong. It's never anything major...just little things to remind me that financially, at any time, I will lose my house, my Home. It terrifies me that I have NOTHING in savings. All these little things going wrong are adding up and dammit before too long I will not be able to keep up. Then what? I have to find a new home for my Son's dog and my cat. Try to find an apartment close by that will allow my Son to continue at his school (he loves it so!).

Pride is a terrible thing when it keeps you from asking for help when you need it most. I've swallowed my pride often enough...I just can't seem to this time. I'm mortally tired of not being able to stand on my own two feet, of always needing help. I feel so weak anymore...

A couple of weeks ago, I left my bowling bag at home and had to rent shoes. They weren't my size exactly (it's hard to find 8 1/2 wide shoes). They were big and hard to bowl in.

My life feels like rental shoes, it just doesn't fit right. My Single Mom shoes are a little big, leaving room to grow...that's to be expected, I know they will probably never be a perfect fit until he's grown and can fully understand everything I've done (will do) for him. I stumble and fall a lot though. Each time is a learning experience but the scrapes and bruises still hurt.

My Daughter/Sister/Niece/overall family shoes feel like they fit...for years they felt tight and restricted but as I've grown older and hopefully wiser, they feel better now.

My Friend shoes are comfortable...worn and scuffed in places, but held together with duct tape of love. Hmm...that sounded better in my head than it does on paper...

There are times though, when my shoes feel too big for me and I just don't fit in with my life... all I can do is tie the laces a little tighter and go forward with faith and love that someday they will fit.

Don't even get me started on using a bowling ball besides my own...

And now my kind readers, my tears have dried, and with Johnny ringing in my head, it's off to bed and sleep for me...at least in sleep I can find a tiny bit of peace...

Prepare ye the way...

I love Christmas...the memories of the past, the hope for the future. Even more, I love Advent. The four weeks Catholics spend preparing for the birth of Jesus.

Now, if my above comment regarding my religion offends you in any way, please run along. After many years away from the Church, I have found just what it means to me and I am not ashamed of it. I am also not ashamed to admit, I don't believe in one, true religion. It's having faith that's important, not the deity you worship...but that's a topic for another day. If my religion does not offend, please read on...

Advent for me means much more than just the days leading up to Christmas. There is more joy in the congregation each Sunday. There is something special about lighting the advent candles, hearing the story of Elizabeth and the birth of John the Baptist. Listening to the words of the Angel to Mary...the trials her and Joseph went through...the music seems more magical...

It is the music more than anything. Some of you may not know, but I went to a Catholic School from 1st to 6th grade. I resented this for a lot of years unbeknown to my folks. I know they meant well but really, it left me sadly lacking in social skills needed for public school. On the other hand though, I have some fantastic memories of Saint Stanislaus. The best one however is celebrating Advent. Every morning before school began, we all (the WHOLE school) would gather in the foyer, light the advent candle(s) and sing "O Come O Come Emmanuel". If you don't know the song, ask me, I'll sing (butcher...I have a terrible voice) it for you. Even now, all these years later, the song STILL gives me goosebumps. It is my favorite Christmas Carol even though you'll never hear it on the radio...

When I left the Church after High School, sure, I don't think I realized how much I would miss it, then my Son was born. It was decided he would be raised as Catholic and I went back to Church. My Mom helped me with that. I explained to her why I left and didn't really go back. (There were a lot of politics and crap involved). We don't go to Church just to go to Church, Mom said, but to celebrate life, love and everything God has given us. 5 years and one divorce later, I have found the depth of my faith.

Last Sunday, as Father Len's homily sunk in, I realized that I have not been preparing the way for Jesus and God to be in my heart and my life. I have struggled to cope with the divorce, being a good mother to my Son, a good daughter, sister, friend, co-worker , etc. I had forgotten what Advent meant to me.

Anyways, back to the homily. Father Len spoke of a woman he knew who was full of joy and celebrated everyday of her life. I wish I could convey the depth of his story. No matter what happened, she had joy.

This got me to thinking...surely I have plenty of joy in my life. Why was I sinking deeper into depression? Why was I struggling to maintain personal relationships with family and friends? I had lost the joy...lost my faith...

So, when the road looks dark, I look a little harder for the joy. This morning I had a mishap with some chocolate covered pretzels and deviled eggs I had made for work. I sat down in the office and cried...slipping into the darkness...and then, I realized it really wasn't that big of a disaster. I had time to run the store...buy something to replace what had been lost.

Everytime my Son and I fight, or I find myself frustrated with him...I look for the joy we share. Last Saturday, I carried him from G's house to the car, he woke long enough to tell me the snow banks were beautiful...He also tells me that I am in his Heart when we are apart. There is a lot of joy between us and I refuse to lose it again.

It's difficult, but as this has been my first week rediscovering the joy in life, I think I'm improving. I am trying to focus my energy on the positive, the joys, the love that is already in my life...not what I have lost, how much each day seems to be a struggle, and so on.

There's more I would like to say, but the words elude me...plus I am VERY tired. I've been running all day on 5 hours sleep...

I wish you all Joy in your lives...may it light the road on your journey called life...if you lose it, well, call me and we'll find it together...

Signposts on the road

So, I've hit a milestone...on December 9th, 2008, I sat in a court room and petitioned for a divorce. Irreconcilable differences I said. No, I told the judge, I don't want this, I wanted to go to counseling, try to repair the hurt between us. He wasn't willing...didn't want to try anymore. He had given up on us...

Six months later, he changes his mind...begs me back, professes undying love, and so on...

I started having panic attacks...terrified to go home...petrified of being around him...I felt broken...so I went to counseling.

In September he finally moved out. And now, every time I drop off and pick up our son from his place, I get sad, little puppy eyes. How are you doing, he asks? Is everything ok? Yes, everything is fine...I'm ok. Just tired...worn out...heart weary...sick of living paycheck to paycheck...wondering when the next child support payment will arrive...

Last week, he told me he was taking our son to Given's Hot Springs next time around...and would I like to go? (insert puppy eyes). No, I can't, I say...too much to do...can't get off work and all that...

One whole f*&%$ing year...and what has really changed? Nothing really, except he's changed his mind...I'm still heart weary...tired...lonely...helpless...worthless...broken inside.

Thank God for my Family and Friends...they are the lightposts on the path in my dark journey. I never would have survived this long...

And so the journey of life continues...

Free my soul...

"Give me the beat boys and free my soul...I wanna get lost in that Rock 'n' Roll..."

That was playing on the radio on my way home from Buffy night tonight...that's something I haven't done in a while. I used pick out a CD, plug in the headphones, lay down and just lose myself in the music.

I feel off kilter...like I'm careening too fast around the corner on highway 55 and am heading for the river. I'm doing everything I'm supposed to. I love my Son, take care of him, play with him, teach him and so on. I spend time with Harlequinn the grumpy cat and Sadie the playful puppy. I make sure my Son feeds his fish. I keep the house clean, prepare meals, do the shopping, pay the bills. I go to work Monday through Friday and Church on Sunday. I spend time with Friends and Family, laughing, joking and relaxing. So why does it feel like something is missing? Isn't this what life is about? What exactly am I missing?

Maybe it's time I plug the headphones into the stereo and lose myself in the music again...just drift away...would that help? Is that what my weary soul, aching heart needs?

My Son is my life...I will do whatever it takes to keep him happy, healthy and all the good stuff that goes with raising a child. But honestly, is that all there is for me? Now I feel selfish...only thinking of myself and how lonely I am...how empty I feel. Have you ever been surrounded by loved ones, family and dear friends and still felt all alone? Seriously, what is wrong with me?

Ok well, now I'm just rambling...time to get ready for bed and the take the pup out one more time tonight...

Sigh

Another long day is almost at an end...

This was our first bowling night with Sadie...poor pup. I let her out to play and run around before we left, but it was only for 1/2 hour. Instead of putting her in the crate, I put her in my bathroom, hoping that having room to play in would help. Alas, she left some pretty good sized gouges from teeth and claws on the door jam...guess I'll have to figure something else out...I'm worried that adopting her was a bad idea...and yet, I love her so much. She is a wonderful companion on those nights that my Son is with his Dad. I worry though, that she's getting enough attention, play time, and proper training.

I'm feeling kind of lonely tonight...tired of dreaming of someone who is not in my life...and knowing my luck, never will be. I have to admit that he is just a dream...and really, I don't want to. I want to find the kind of happiness that my friends and family have found. A partner, a companion, a beloved, and much more...it's not gonna happen and I have to be ok with that. I need to be strong for my Son, for my family and friends...

Sigh...time to shower and crawl into bed...part of me hopes for the dreams where he is there...wrapping me in his arms, surrounding my tired soul, weary heart with his unconditional love. Sometimes during the day, I can almost feel his arms, feel his breath on my neck...sometimes I even think I hear his voice...then I remember, he is a dream...
Maybe I should pray I don't dream tonight...but then again...at least in my dreams of him, I can at least snatch a tiny bit of love, comfort and so much more....