As the drain swirls - continued

Look!  It's a ceiling!  And wow, wow, wow, is it BRIGHT in there!

John was in this week and mudded again.  He'll be back on Sunday to do 1 more mudding and he'll put in my new sink.

Rest in Peace, Cutter

We found out this afternoon that we lost another good friend.  This is Cutter with Jacob on the floor, in the lobby at Manistee National Golf & Resort.  We stay there in the off season on trips to Manistee.  The price is right, the staff accommodating, the coffee always hot, the pool is typically empty, And they have Cutter - their "mascot" (the general manager's dog).  Sadly, Cutter was put to sleep on December 28th, 2009.  He's in doggie heaven chasing golf balls and begging for bagels.

We'll miss you "Old dog".

Fate? Destiny? Divine Intervention? All of the above?

I've been reflecting quite a bit in the past few months.  Thinking about my parents, my family, my friends, my challenges, my accomplishments, and of course, my failures. 

As I'm looking back, over the roads I've traveled and I see all of these bumps, and I see hills, valleys, dead ends, turn arounds, cut offs, short cuts, left turns, right turns, and I see where I am now.

I remember going down all of those streets, all of the intersections that led me to where I am today and I begin to wonder what it was that drove me to make the choices that I made.  Each turn.  Each road.  And sometimes, what made me stop or turn back?

Yet I realize, had I missed any single hill, not turned around at the right time, turned right instead of left, I would have missed what I have right here in front of me.

I would have jumped on the freeway and avoided the bumpy dirt road to Jacob.  I wouldn't have kept driving on the wrong street and gone right on by the man who has my heart.  I would have turned right to avoid the discomfort of taking a left and missed the amazing women I met through this blog.  I would have continued down a dead end and missed reconciliation in meeting an old friend for lunch.  So many instances in my life where I got out (or in) just in time.  How does that happen?  How can you explain it away?

I do believe your life is mapped out before you.  I believe the route is planned out before the stork leaves the nest.  I believe God has it all taken care of for you before He's even done with your creation.  I believe that every step I've taken and every new step ahead of me is all a part of His plan.  Each failure or mistake  is behind every accomplishment.

Every day I am thankful for God's plan.  Thankful for the people He's brought me, the people He's moved me on from, and the people He's taken to be with him. Thankful for where he's taken me and the directions he's given.

Cryin' for me

When I was confirmed in the Lutheran Church, my parents gave me a blue Bible embossed with my name in gold letters on the front.  I've carried that Bible with me every where I have lived. At some places, it was set out on a table, some stored in a drawer, now on the bookshelf in our den. Sadly, the only time it is opened is to store another Remembrance Card from another funeral. 

My best friend from high school lost her mom to a courageous 14 year battle with breast cancer this past week. The funeral was yesterday. I came home from Manistee and added another card to my safe place inside my Bible. Everytime I add a card, I look through them all and remember those I have lost. This morning though, I was remembering Jean's funeral yesterday and I was so moved by the strength of her kids and this family that Jean left behind. We all witnessed a tender moment at the funeral when her kids gathered around the urn, with arms around each other, remembering, loving their mother. As I sat in my seat watching them, I felt one single warm, wet tear run down my cheek.

I was sad for them, for losing their mother. I think though, I was more sad at the thought of losing mine. And not because I'd miss her - I'd miss her because she IS my mother but, she never WAS a mother and I don't love her for the things she did as a mother but, because she is my mother.  I was sad in knowing that we didn't come together as a family like that when we lost my dad.  I'm certain we won't when we lose my mom.  All I remember in losing my dad was feeling terribly alone.  I was, maybe happy for them to have that closeness, yet it hurt to know that we, as a family don't.

As I'm there at the funeral thinking all of this through, this song was played and it couldn't have been more fitting. (sorry to hit y'all with song lyrics - again!)

Cryin' for me
(Toby Keith)
Got the news on Friday mornin’
But a tear I couldn’t find
You showed me how I’m supposed to live
And now you showed me how to die
I was lost till Sunday mornin’
I woke up to face my fear
While I’m writing you this goodbye song
I found a tear

I’m gonna miss that smile
I’m gonna miss you my friend
Even though it hurts the way it ended up
I’d do it all again
So play it sweet in heaven
‘Cause that’s right where you wana be
I’m not crying because I feel so sorry for you
I’m crying for me

I got up and dialed your number
And your voice came on the line
That old familiar message
I heard a thousand times it just said
Sorry that I missed you
Leave a message and god bless
I know you think I’m crazy
But I had to hear your voice again

I’m gonna miss that smile
I’m gonna miss you my friend
Even though it hurts the way it ended up
I’d do it all again
So play it sweet in heaven
‘Cause that’s right where you wana be
I’m not crying because I feel so sorry for you
I’m crying for me


I feel a guilty, a little selfish, thinking of myself when my friend lost her mom.  And then I think - isn't that what we're supposed to take from a funeral?  Aren't we supposed to come away thinking about how we can improve our lives?

Unwritten

It's not a secret, I've been struggling to write here. I'll start something and I'm not comfortable sharing it so I don't or I try to stick with something safe - like pictures. I have ideas, thoughts or stories on the tip of my tongue but, I'm afraid they cross this imaginary line drawn between what I think and what is acceptable to share.  I really had a hard time clicking 'publish' with the last post.

One of my sisters has given me an amazing amount of encouragment to get back into writing. She's preparing for a writing class this spring and like me, she's haunted by a book with all blank pages.  She shared something with me regarding her haunt and now I'm going to share it with you. It's a song from Natasha Bedingfield.  I'm sure you've heard it on the radio.

I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned


Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins


The rest is still unwritten

I wish you courage in your class, sis.  I hope for you to be able to fill those haunting blank pages with your thoughts.  I think once you get going and get comfortable, you'll really enjoy the peace it brings to you.

Sink or Swim?

It's not a secret. Edna wasn't/isn't a hands on or a helpful parent to her children. She wasn't a mother to us - she's even worse as a grandparent. And I'm just going to stop here before I go into an ugly tirade far off from my goal of this post.

Edna made it clear to her children that she wasn't going to be counted on as a baby-sitter. It was always clear to us that 'moving back home' wasn't an option. Never mind that we all couldn't wait to get out of her house that none of us ever would come back. There is no limit to what I would do to avoid 'moving back home' and I AM NOT kidding you! I would work 10 jobs at $5 an hour and live out of my car before I moved in with her - Yes, I am considering my small child in this equation.

Edna wasn't much of a help to us. Sure, she loaned money (of which I can proudly say I have paid back ALL of my loans) but, most times it wasn't worth the head/heart ache to borrow it. We're talking signing promissory notes here. Daily badgering of the money YOU borrowed and when you were going to start to repay it. As well as a lifetime of her telling anyone who will listen that she gave you money. Asking for Edna's help resulted in more tears and arguements than it did help. Especially as I've gotten older.

It may sound cold and heartless to you, the way my mother is and maybe it is - I won't lie to you - it hurts more often than not but, I think to myself at times, You know Gail, where would you be if you thought you could always go back and have your mommy rescue you? Why does your mommy need to solve this problem? Is it HER problem? OR is it a problem YOU created as a result of your own poor choices? Yes, a lot of things could have been a lot easier with help from my mother. Is anything learned by having someone else fix your mistakes? Is anything worth having ever easy? Could I take pride in her having done it for me? As it is, I have pride in myself.

I'm proud of myself for being as independent as I am. I'm proud of myself for knowing that I am able to do what I need to do for myself and for my family to survive. I like knowing that I can do it. That I am swimming.

As the drain swirls

Remember last March when I lost my bathroom ceiling?

We finally found some help to put up the drop tile ceiling. John (not related to John of the previous post John) came Sunday morning to get started. Here's what it looked like when he started.

(I'm sorry if you can't see the picture - at work, I can't. For some reason it's classified as "Intimate Apparel - Swimsuit")



And after he left 5 hours later.

Hold on! Let me explain why it looks like he did nothing.

He did get all the outside edge for the drop ceiling up just to find out that our bathroom is so out of square that when he tried to put in the first tile in this corner, it wouldn't stay up!

I feel so badly for wasting his time!

John is coming back this Sunday to start to give me a drywall ceiling - what I really wanted in the first place but was afraid to do in the event of another plumbing issue. One day, he'll come back to help with new crown moulding too. But for now, I'll simply settle for a ceiling.

More good news! A new sink and faucet have been ordered for this bathroom as well!