I've decided to follow Tracy's example, and to start a new blog devoted to my unique (and twisted) musings. If you're not afraid of dark places and scary creepy-crawlies, come visit. :)
http://darrylbarksdale.blogspot.com/
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Thoughts on Mortality
I have had a pretty contemplative pair of weeks. I know what you’re thinking: “Oh, no, how long will THIS entry be?” Sorry…hehehehe…
I can honestly say I’m not afraid of dying. The thought that always comes to mind is, “What if I miss something?” I’m a little worried that there will be pain or horrible illness before I get to the finish line, but the thing I really fear is watching someone I love go through pain or horrible illness, while I watch helplessly as they die. And then being left behind.
I’m not one to spend much time thinking about death, but a handful of things happened recently that really had me thinking about it much more than I’d like. First, I read that the mother of my childhood best friend (grades 2, 3, and 4) had passed away. I hadn’t seen my friend’s mom in almost 40 years, but I can still remember her and my impressions of her when I was young. It was almost like learning the friend had died. It seemed too mortal.
A few months back I learned that a high school friend had lost a very long battle with breast cancer. I had had no idea she was sick, but I do very much remember her life, at least the part which I was privileged to observe. A more alive and vibrant person I cannot imagine. I really wished that I could have been her back when we were young, and I was afraid of my own shadow most of the time. Just the other day I was looking at a group dedicated to her on Facebook, and while looking through photos, I saw her casket at her burial, and it brought to mind the shock and concern I felt when I first learned she had died.
The other day my youngest daughter’s best friend lost a great-aunt to cancer and emphysema. What I was hearing about her final days brought to mind the dear 50-year-old lady in our ward who died of lung cancer last year, leaving three beautiful daughters to make their way through life without her.
I went to lunch with some ladies from church (all of whom are my mom’s age or older), and I remarked to one of them that she looks so vibrant and robust. That was the best word I could think of, but it really fit. I had had no idea she had been sick until she replied, “Well, not having to take chemotherapy helps.”
And then the other evening a friend of mine IMed me and told me he had just learned that a friend had passed away suddenly from heart complications due to pneumonia. He said she had been at a depo and hadn’t felt well, so she went to the hospital after work. The bad news is that all of that really did happen. The good news for my friend and all those who love her is that it was a case of mistaken identity, and she was not the victim. I was very glad to hear that. She’s only in her 50s and I’m sure has a tremendous amount of living left to do. But I spent the nearly 24 hours before the misunderstanding was cleared thinking about what the world would be like if my friend were gone.
So, yeah, for some strange reason, my mind has been dwelling on death lately. I remember when my dad died. In the middle of the most painful experience of my life, I had a moment of absolute clarity: I didn’t just *believe in* the resurrection, I *know* it is real and that this is just a temporary, annoying separation. So my testimony remains strong, though I wonder…what is it really like? I turn 49 next month, and I am all too aware that 49 seems to be most common age to die, at least for people I know. And I don’t think ANY of those people thought they would die at 49.
So let’s think about living instead. I am quite certain this is the hardest thing I have ever experienced. I have always told the kids: “Life’s not fair. And then you die.” Sounds pessimistic, I know, but it’s true. How many situations in real life (not the 30-minute sitcom or the made-for-TV movie) turn out with all’s well that ends well? Instead, we face trial after trial, struggle after struggle, trying to get from one end of life to the other.
Here’s a question: Do we want to suffer these awful experiences and gain nothing from them? If we have to go through them anyway, why not make sure we grow a little or become more tolerant and truly look at others with Eternal-colored glasses? For the girl who becomes pregnant as a teen, after going through that life-changing, harrowing trial, will she learn compassion for others and hang back from judging others for their mistakes? The drug addict who makes it to the other side of the addiction to recovery very often sees others where he was and reaches a hand to help.
It’s expected of us that we mourn with those who mourn, comfort those in need of comfort, and lift the hands that hang down. I love that phrase. It is so visual. To quote the words of one of my favorite songs, “If we are the body, why aren’t His arms reaching?” My kids struggle with going to church, not for the lack of testimony but for the lack of interest or even kindness shown to them by their peers. People hurt. We all hurt. And yet we’re so afraid to reach to one another because we fear no one really can understand how we feel.
And that brings up my dirty little secret that I really know isn’t mine alone: Whenever I hear of someone passing away, aside from the sadness and grief, one of my first thoughts is “They don’t have to worry about anything anymore. They are free from the pain and suffering of mortal life.” And I’m a teeny bit jealous. Not enough to DO anything about that, of course, other than to keep trying to fix my life while I’m still in the middle of it.
I can honestly say I’m not afraid of dying. The thought that always comes to mind is, “What if I miss something?” I’m a little worried that there will be pain or horrible illness before I get to the finish line, but the thing I really fear is watching someone I love go through pain or horrible illness, while I watch helplessly as they die. And then being left behind.
I’m not one to spend much time thinking about death, but a handful of things happened recently that really had me thinking about it much more than I’d like. First, I read that the mother of my childhood best friend (grades 2, 3, and 4) had passed away. I hadn’t seen my friend’s mom in almost 40 years, but I can still remember her and my impressions of her when I was young. It was almost like learning the friend had died. It seemed too mortal.
A few months back I learned that a high school friend had lost a very long battle with breast cancer. I had had no idea she was sick, but I do very much remember her life, at least the part which I was privileged to observe. A more alive and vibrant person I cannot imagine. I really wished that I could have been her back when we were young, and I was afraid of my own shadow most of the time. Just the other day I was looking at a group dedicated to her on Facebook, and while looking through photos, I saw her casket at her burial, and it brought to mind the shock and concern I felt when I first learned she had died.
The other day my youngest daughter’s best friend lost a great-aunt to cancer and emphysema. What I was hearing about her final days brought to mind the dear 50-year-old lady in our ward who died of lung cancer last year, leaving three beautiful daughters to make their way through life without her.
I went to lunch with some ladies from church (all of whom are my mom’s age or older), and I remarked to one of them that she looks so vibrant and robust. That was the best word I could think of, but it really fit. I had had no idea she had been sick until she replied, “Well, not having to take chemotherapy helps.”
And then the other evening a friend of mine IMed me and told me he had just learned that a friend had passed away suddenly from heart complications due to pneumonia. He said she had been at a depo and hadn’t felt well, so she went to the hospital after work. The bad news is that all of that really did happen. The good news for my friend and all those who love her is that it was a case of mistaken identity, and she was not the victim. I was very glad to hear that. She’s only in her 50s and I’m sure has a tremendous amount of living left to do. But I spent the nearly 24 hours before the misunderstanding was cleared thinking about what the world would be like if my friend were gone.
So, yeah, for some strange reason, my mind has been dwelling on death lately. I remember when my dad died. In the middle of the most painful experience of my life, I had a moment of absolute clarity: I didn’t just *believe in* the resurrection, I *know* it is real and that this is just a temporary, annoying separation. So my testimony remains strong, though I wonder…what is it really like? I turn 49 next month, and I am all too aware that 49 seems to be most common age to die, at least for people I know. And I don’t think ANY of those people thought they would die at 49.
So let’s think about living instead. I am quite certain this is the hardest thing I have ever experienced. I have always told the kids: “Life’s not fair. And then you die.” Sounds pessimistic, I know, but it’s true. How many situations in real life (not the 30-minute sitcom or the made-for-TV movie) turn out with all’s well that ends well? Instead, we face trial after trial, struggle after struggle, trying to get from one end of life to the other.
Here’s a question: Do we want to suffer these awful experiences and gain nothing from them? If we have to go through them anyway, why not make sure we grow a little or become more tolerant and truly look at others with Eternal-colored glasses? For the girl who becomes pregnant as a teen, after going through that life-changing, harrowing trial, will she learn compassion for others and hang back from judging others for their mistakes? The drug addict who makes it to the other side of the addiction to recovery very often sees others where he was and reaches a hand to help.
It’s expected of us that we mourn with those who mourn, comfort those in need of comfort, and lift the hands that hang down. I love that phrase. It is so visual. To quote the words of one of my favorite songs, “If we are the body, why aren’t His arms reaching?” My kids struggle with going to church, not for the lack of testimony but for the lack of interest or even kindness shown to them by their peers. People hurt. We all hurt. And yet we’re so afraid to reach to one another because we fear no one really can understand how we feel.
And that brings up my dirty little secret that I really know isn’t mine alone: Whenever I hear of someone passing away, aside from the sadness and grief, one of my first thoughts is “They don’t have to worry about anything anymore. They are free from the pain and suffering of mortal life.” And I’m a teeny bit jealous. Not enough to DO anything about that, of course, other than to keep trying to fix my life while I’m still in the middle of it.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
I never thought I'd say this, but I kinda like Ohio. Yeah, I know :D Not believing I'd get the chance to have a real vacation this year, I happily tagged along with Darryl for his business trip to a suburb of Columbus. It's only 400 miles away, so we drove. The drive was great...beautiful country. In fact, as we were joking about how "ugly" it was, I mentioned that no matter which direction we travel from our home, the drive is just gorgeous.
We drove northwest from Fredericksburg through Warrenton and Winchester, along the Skyline Drive area of Shenandoah, then into a forest in West Virginia. Yeah, it just never got ugly, the whole time. Now, mind you, I totally miss the Pacific Ocean...and Yosemite, but, really, much of the HUGE state of California really can't compare to the piece of the East in which we now live. Okay, I still miss Home, but I've discovered that it's definitely possible to love where you live and still not be disrespectful to where your genetic background calls home.
We are staying in a little dive of a hotel in Lancaster, Ohio, an adorable little community about 30 miles southeast of Columbus. After Darryl finishes his meetings today, we are probably going to head to Slippery Rock, Pennsylvania, so that he can show me where he lived when he was in junior high. I've heard lots of stories, so I'm looking forward to seeing it.
I spent all day yesterday finishing up the transcripts I had, but today I'm simply going to do...nothing. I may take a drive, just to see what's out there because I CAN. Last night we went to see a movie. So maybe I'm not doing all the traditional vacation things, but the opportunity to NOT be a mom, to NOT be a laundress, to NOT be a court reporter or transcriptionist, to NOT be a housekeeper: Just what I needed!
Lindsay just came home from two weeks of vacation (one week in Florida and another in Washington with family), and Lauren comes home on Thursday after a week and a half in Washington. It's been a fun summer for them, especially Lauren, who needs the "rest" time to get ready for school, I would imagine. It's been a little more quiet at home for the other kids and for me.
This year has been such a year of growth for me. I've had the opportunity to examine my motivations and my real desires, and most of the time I've liked what I've found. There's been much room for improvement, but I like the road I'm on. Frankly, it would seem such a waste to go through the heartache I've suffered without having a positive outcome on the other side. Not that I'm to the other side yet, but I hope that's what I can see off in the distance....not just a mirage.
I am so grateful for my loved ones. I have been blessed to have experiences and opportunities that have opened my eyes. I appreciate things about my kids that I might not have noticed back in the day. Sunday markes 29 years since I first got married, and I am absolutely not the same person I was back on that day in 1981. In fact, if I could travel in time, I would love to go have a long talk with that young girl. She was scared and shy and way too compliant. But if I hadn't been THAT girl, who would I be today? Seriously, how many of us would want to give up our trials if it meant giving up the person we've become as we've grown up?
On a more temporal note, I went to Wal*Mart yesterday because I'd forgotten to pack enough shirts to wear while we're away. Of course, I packed for Darryl too, and HE had everything he needed :D I found a couple of T-shirts and a pair of shorts to wear. The really exciting part is that the shirts AND the shorts are all size 10 - a size I haven't been able to wear in several years. The shorts are a bit tight right around the waist, but not anything I would have noticed but for the fact that my size 12s have been way to BIG for some time now.
I am so glad that we've been making changes in our lifestyle, and I hope it continues because we both feel so great. Darryl has been losing too, and he's pulling clothes from the back of the closet that he'd given up hope of wearing. He really looks good.
I hear the heat and humidity are coming back to Ohio today, though it's been a fairly humidity-free summer for the locals. I guess I kind of feel bad, because we've obviously brought it with us from Virginia! Humidity: The ONE thing I don't miss when I leave home.
We drove northwest from Fredericksburg through Warrenton and Winchester, along the Skyline Drive area of Shenandoah, then into a forest in West Virginia. Yeah, it just never got ugly, the whole time. Now, mind you, I totally miss the Pacific Ocean...and Yosemite, but, really, much of the HUGE state of California really can't compare to the piece of the East in which we now live. Okay, I still miss Home, but I've discovered that it's definitely possible to love where you live and still not be disrespectful to where your genetic background calls home.
We are staying in a little dive of a hotel in Lancaster, Ohio, an adorable little community about 30 miles southeast of Columbus. After Darryl finishes his meetings today, we are probably going to head to Slippery Rock, Pennsylvania, so that he can show me where he lived when he was in junior high. I've heard lots of stories, so I'm looking forward to seeing it.
I spent all day yesterday finishing up the transcripts I had, but today I'm simply going to do...nothing. I may take a drive, just to see what's out there because I CAN. Last night we went to see a movie. So maybe I'm not doing all the traditional vacation things, but the opportunity to NOT be a mom, to NOT be a laundress, to NOT be a court reporter or transcriptionist, to NOT be a housekeeper: Just what I needed!
Lindsay just came home from two weeks of vacation (one week in Florida and another in Washington with family), and Lauren comes home on Thursday after a week and a half in Washington. It's been a fun summer for them, especially Lauren, who needs the "rest" time to get ready for school, I would imagine. It's been a little more quiet at home for the other kids and for me.
This year has been such a year of growth for me. I've had the opportunity to examine my motivations and my real desires, and most of the time I've liked what I've found. There's been much room for improvement, but I like the road I'm on. Frankly, it would seem such a waste to go through the heartache I've suffered without having a positive outcome on the other side. Not that I'm to the other side yet, but I hope that's what I can see off in the distance....not just a mirage.
I am so grateful for my loved ones. I have been blessed to have experiences and opportunities that have opened my eyes. I appreciate things about my kids that I might not have noticed back in the day. Sunday markes 29 years since I first got married, and I am absolutely not the same person I was back on that day in 1981. In fact, if I could travel in time, I would love to go have a long talk with that young girl. She was scared and shy and way too compliant. But if I hadn't been THAT girl, who would I be today? Seriously, how many of us would want to give up our trials if it meant giving up the person we've become as we've grown up?
On a more temporal note, I went to Wal*Mart yesterday because I'd forgotten to pack enough shirts to wear while we're away. Of course, I packed for Darryl too, and HE had everything he needed :D I found a couple of T-shirts and a pair of shorts to wear. The really exciting part is that the shirts AND the shorts are all size 10 - a size I haven't been able to wear in several years. The shorts are a bit tight right around the waist, but not anything I would have noticed but for the fact that my size 12s have been way to BIG for some time now.
I am so glad that we've been making changes in our lifestyle, and I hope it continues because we both feel so great. Darryl has been losing too, and he's pulling clothes from the back of the closet that he'd given up hope of wearing. He really looks good.
I hear the heat and humidity are coming back to Ohio today, though it's been a fairly humidity-free summer for the locals. I guess I kind of feel bad, because we've obviously brought it with us from Virginia! Humidity: The ONE thing I don't miss when I leave home.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
The Sun Also Rises
I woke up this morning at 5:45. I sometimes hate my internal clock. But I’m really a morning person, so once I’m up and dressed, it’s all good. I mean, when you live in a house full of kids, youngest age 11, the morning may be the only quiet time you get!
Unfortunately, this morning I woke with a headache. I REALLY hate that. In the interest of being positive about it, though, I realize that if I start the day with a headache, I’m pretty sure the rest of the day will only get better, right?
I took some Excedrin, then sat in the chair by my side of the bed, looking at Facebook on my teeny-tiny iPhone screen. Since I live on the East Coast, and most of my friends live in the West, there’s usually a lot of FB activity that’s occurred during the time I was sleeping. As I read several entries that made me smile…some even made me laugh out loud….I realized that out of the corners of my mind I was seeing and hearing something. When I focused, I realized I could hear the joyful chorus of the morning’s birds. I would have missed that had I not been awake so early. By the time the heat and humidity kick in, the birds are usually quiet and hiding somewhere. And the sunrise I could see out my window was breathtaking. I thought of taking a picture, but I realized no picture could really capture how beautiful it was. Again, if you sleep too long, you can’t see a real, live sunrise.
Yesterday I learned that my hubby had been officially offered a job working at Kings Dominion. No, he’s not helping people get on and off a roller coaster. He’s going to be working with their “first aid” department, which is really a lowly title for the people who are there to help others who have an emergency while enjoying the park. Now, don’t get excited. It pays little more than a Wal*Mart greeter’s job, but it’s a fun way to serve others who would really rather not be sick/injured that day. I know he’ll be good at the job. He’s amazing when he puts on his “medic” hat. Having been his patient at least twice (delivering both our babies), and having seen him with other people who were unexpectedly caught up in an accident, I get blown away every time I see him work.
So that leads me off on a tangent. Have you ever noticed how obvious it is to see someone doing something he truly loves? Or something that fits him like a glove? That’s how it is when I see my hubby at work in the EMS field. He’s really good. Not only is he fascinated by all things medical, but he’s really able to make a connection with the patients and make that moment in his life all about them. I can tell you that I’d much rather the worst moment of my life be handled by someone who treats me like an individual in pain rather than by someone who is a burnout and just sees me as the latest annoyance. Our baby is so sweet and compassionate, and she has plans to be a surgeon one day. She is fascinated, as well, by all things medical, so I have a feeling that the future Dr. Barksdale will change lives in a good way :D
And that’s one of the reasons I love what I do. Like I mentioned in my most recent post, almost any witness who is seated before me wishes he or she were somewhere else. That doesn’t count the expert witness who’s charging more than I’m making for the day. But the woman who was in the car accident and is there to detail her injuries and how they’ve affected her life…or the guy who was in the car that hit her and is really sorry he was ever there…those people wish they could have changed anything to make that day never happen. There have been divorce and custody cases that broke my heart. I’ve even reported the deposition of a “guest” of the Virginia Department of Corrections who was being accused of setting the fire to his mother’s townhome which caused his disfiguring injuries. Now, having to be with these people isn’t what I like. What I like is being able to look at them and remember that my JOB is their LIFE. I try to be friendly and kind. I treat them all the same…even the VDC guest. For the little bit of time they are with me, they get my respect and as much thoughtfulness as I can muster. Everybody deserves that, don’t you think?
So now I’m sitting in hubby’s office at 7:21. I’ve been awake forever, it seems. I’ve opened the window to enjoy the sound of the birds and the only cool, dry air I’ll feel all day. While hubby’s on his way back to the station from the hospital (long after his shift was actually over), I’m planning later this morning to drive down to A.P. Hill to take my son in for his shift at the Boy Scout Jamboree (he’s working for a vendor). I love the drive down there, and I’m sure we’ll be able to have the windows down because it’ll still be before noon. Then it’s back into Fred to take my other son in for his French horn lesson. Oddly enough, I have found that I really like horn music, and I never even knew that’s what it was! I like being able to share that with my son, “Hey, hear the horns?!” Somewhere in the middle of the morning, my baby’s friend will come over to spend the day, then my baby will go home with her friend to spend the night and go to church with her family, as hubby and I are….wait for it…..leaving early Sunday morning for Ohio :D
Okay. Let’s take inventory. Up freakishly early for a Saturday morning, having a slight headache, anxious about any number of things? A little annoying. Aware that this little piece of my day and my world is beautiful and happy? Priceless.
Unfortunately, this morning I woke with a headache. I REALLY hate that. In the interest of being positive about it, though, I realize that if I start the day with a headache, I’m pretty sure the rest of the day will only get better, right?
I took some Excedrin, then sat in the chair by my side of the bed, looking at Facebook on my teeny-tiny iPhone screen. Since I live on the East Coast, and most of my friends live in the West, there’s usually a lot of FB activity that’s occurred during the time I was sleeping. As I read several entries that made me smile…some even made me laugh out loud….I realized that out of the corners of my mind I was seeing and hearing something. When I focused, I realized I could hear the joyful chorus of the morning’s birds. I would have missed that had I not been awake so early. By the time the heat and humidity kick in, the birds are usually quiet and hiding somewhere. And the sunrise I could see out my window was breathtaking. I thought of taking a picture, but I realized no picture could really capture how beautiful it was. Again, if you sleep too long, you can’t see a real, live sunrise.
Yesterday I learned that my hubby had been officially offered a job working at Kings Dominion. No, he’s not helping people get on and off a roller coaster. He’s going to be working with their “first aid” department, which is really a lowly title for the people who are there to help others who have an emergency while enjoying the park. Now, don’t get excited. It pays little more than a Wal*Mart greeter’s job, but it’s a fun way to serve others who would really rather not be sick/injured that day. I know he’ll be good at the job. He’s amazing when he puts on his “medic” hat. Having been his patient at least twice (delivering both our babies), and having seen him with other people who were unexpectedly caught up in an accident, I get blown away every time I see him work.
So that leads me off on a tangent. Have you ever noticed how obvious it is to see someone doing something he truly loves? Or something that fits him like a glove? That’s how it is when I see my hubby at work in the EMS field. He’s really good. Not only is he fascinated by all things medical, but he’s really able to make a connection with the patients and make that moment in his life all about them. I can tell you that I’d much rather the worst moment of my life be handled by someone who treats me like an individual in pain rather than by someone who is a burnout and just sees me as the latest annoyance. Our baby is so sweet and compassionate, and she has plans to be a surgeon one day. She is fascinated, as well, by all things medical, so I have a feeling that the future Dr. Barksdale will change lives in a good way :D
And that’s one of the reasons I love what I do. Like I mentioned in my most recent post, almost any witness who is seated before me wishes he or she were somewhere else. That doesn’t count the expert witness who’s charging more than I’m making for the day. But the woman who was in the car accident and is there to detail her injuries and how they’ve affected her life…or the guy who was in the car that hit her and is really sorry he was ever there…those people wish they could have changed anything to make that day never happen. There have been divorce and custody cases that broke my heart. I’ve even reported the deposition of a “guest” of the Virginia Department of Corrections who was being accused of setting the fire to his mother’s townhome which caused his disfiguring injuries. Now, having to be with these people isn’t what I like. What I like is being able to look at them and remember that my JOB is their LIFE. I try to be friendly and kind. I treat them all the same…even the VDC guest. For the little bit of time they are with me, they get my respect and as much thoughtfulness as I can muster. Everybody deserves that, don’t you think?
So now I’m sitting in hubby’s office at 7:21. I’ve been awake forever, it seems. I’ve opened the window to enjoy the sound of the birds and the only cool, dry air I’ll feel all day. While hubby’s on his way back to the station from the hospital (long after his shift was actually over), I’m planning later this morning to drive down to A.P. Hill to take my son in for his shift at the Boy Scout Jamboree (he’s working for a vendor). I love the drive down there, and I’m sure we’ll be able to have the windows down because it’ll still be before noon. Then it’s back into Fred to take my other son in for his French horn lesson. Oddly enough, I have found that I really like horn music, and I never even knew that’s what it was! I like being able to share that with my son, “Hey, hear the horns?!” Somewhere in the middle of the morning, my baby’s friend will come over to spend the day, then my baby will go home with her friend to spend the night and go to church with her family, as hubby and I are….wait for it…..leaving early Sunday morning for Ohio :D
Okay. Let’s take inventory. Up freakishly early for a Saturday morning, having a slight headache, anxious about any number of things? A little annoying. Aware that this little piece of my day and my world is beautiful and happy? Priceless.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
The Stuff that Dreams are Made Of
This is posted on both my Facebook and Darryl's, so for Darryl's friends, you should know this is his wife Tracy :D
I just hate nightmares, don’t you? It seems most people have some sort of recurring dream, and more often than not, it’s some nightmare you hope never comes true. You wake up and breathe a HUGE sigh of relief and run off to tell someone about the bad dream you had that you’re so glad wasn’t real. When dissected more fully, we usually discover that there is some anxiety or heartache at the base of it. I suppose if we were to resolve that anxiety, fear, sorrow, whatever it is, the nightmare would go away. I suppose.
Here’s mine: In my nightmare I have a loved one (let’s just say Dream Spouse) who is pretty much your average guy. Some people like him, some people not so much. In fact, he really reminds me of my dad, who’s been gone for 11 years :D
Anyway, the dream is just plodding along when Dream Spouse suddenly gets accused of something he never did (nor would he). I work in the legal system, so…in my dream(s)…it’s easy enough to prove his innocence, despite the fact that it’s supposed to be “innocent until proven guilty.” But in my nightmare, nothing could be further from the truth! He pleads his case to anyone who happens by, but no one will listen. There is not a single person in the pool of prospective jurors who even considers he might be innocent. After all, if one is accused of some misdeed, he must be guilty. After all, where there's smoke, there’s fire, right? I have reported many a session of jury selection, and some people actually think that way!
Dream Spouse fears for his reputation but mostly hurts because the people he thought would give him the benefit of a doubt, at the very least, have turned their backs on him altogether. And then he gets angry. Do you all remember the famous lines from “The Incredible Hulk”? “Please don’t make me angry. You won’t LIKE me when I’m angry!” Well, yeah, it goes that way. He starts with apologies and remorse. He admits that he probably did or said something that would cause feelings to be hurt. Would it be possible for him to make amends? He’s met with refusal and then stony silence. There is no forgiveness to be had. He goes from pleading to venting, which, as in real life, doesn’t really help much. The people who turned their backs on him are now congratulating themselves because, SEE, he must have done ALL that was suggested because see how defensive and angry he’s become? This ranks right up there with: “You MUST be guilty, since you hired a lawyer.”
Oh, don’t worry. I’m in the nightmare too. I wish I could say I’m just a casual observer, but then, it wouldn’t REALLY be a nightmare, would it? Well, other than hurting to see Dream Spouse hurting.
In the nightmare I become Dream Spouse’s biggest cheerleader. I see all the good he does. He is a strong leader in difficult situations. I can hardly believe how smart he is. He shows tremendous compassion for those suffering. He has taken my box of broken dreams and tenderly cared for it, fixing it little by little. He makes me laugh, he makes me cry (usually in a GOOD way), he makes me grateful. He is a human being with frailties and indiosyncracies that drive others crazy. He can be wicked funny or corny, depending on who's listening. But I am bewildered; the more I plead, the more the very same backs are turned to me. Minds have been made up. It seems that, other than in the court of public opinion, no one really wants to serve on a jury.
And then, to make it more chilling, we are before a judge in a familiar setting. I’ve been in many courtrooms in several areas, and this one is much like all the others. The judge seems kindly enough. But then he tells us that he really isn’t interested in hearing any so-called evidence (his phrase). Instead, it’s time for him to render a verdict and issue a sentence. He tells both of us…because it appears that I am on trial too, even though the accusations were never raised against me….to stand. Then he tells us that since the accusations were made, and NO ONE was willing to listen to our side of the story, he must declare that they have a factual basis and that if we were to go to trial, it is likely the jury would find us guilty.
Wait. What?
And then the sentence. For Dream Spouse it is the realization that NO hours of community service could make up for his heinous crime. The judge mentions that it is his opinion that, had my spouse only beaten and berated ME, all would be well. But since my spouse apparently “offended” others but was good to me, he is to be banished for eternity. Oh, and since I’m married to him and refuse to NOT be married to him, I get to hang out with him in that Outer Darkness place. In addition, for the next several years I am to continue hard labor with no gratitude thrown my way. ANYthing that is asked of me, small or large, I am duty bound to do…with a smile on my face and a thank you to those who thrust the work in my hands.
Dream Spouse offers to throw himself on his sword in order to save me. To no avail. It appears that I have proven myself unworthy by willingly standing by his side and loving him (even on those days I don’t LIKE him very much).
I chew on the inside of my lip, pondering all of the beautiful lessons and talks I’ve heard in church. Love one another. Forgive everyone. Extend the hand of fellowship. No, the judge tells me, reading my thoughts. Apparently I was mistaken. The way that everyone who is important to me interprets those wonderful lessons and talks is that if *they* decide someone doesn’t pass whatever test they’ve devised, they are within their rights to turn their backs on him or her. For. Ever. Forgiving others, he tells me, is really a code for enabling them.
So as I begin to stir, I see an hourglass with a crack in it. As I watch, the crack grow larger until sand begins to slip out. Then I see little pictures floating in the air. They seem to have also escaped from the hourglass. Upon closer inspection, I realize that these “pictures” are actually those who turned their backs on us, embracing the joy that can only come from loving human association. Within seconds, all of the sand has poured out of the glass, leaving it empty and broken, useless. There are no pictures left.
And then I wake up. I smile when I realize it was all just a dream. Wait. It was, wasn’t it?
I have known a great void in my life for many years. Since the spring of this year I have been making daily efforts to change my life. I have been reading the scriptures (finished the Book of Mormon…an entire new blog entry!) and remembering to say my prayers. Tithing is no longer a “wish” but a joyful reality. And I have truly been trying to humble myself and love others. That’s right, even those obnoxious attorneys who make my job such a wonder. In the meantime, I’ve been losing everything I ever thought was important in my life.
I remember when my father died, I went to pay a bill for my mom later that day. As I stood in the line, I thought about each of the other people in the line, wondering if they could tell that I had been dealt a mortal blow that very day. I wondered whether I looked any different. It’s been 11 years, and I have changed my thinking to wondering whether any of the people I meet in my life has been dealt a very serious blow that very day. Did the irritable checker in the grocery store have a fight with her husband before she came to work? Did the bank teller just get yelled at by the customer who was in just five minutes ago? It’s very likely that the witness seated before me in a deposition is NOT having the best day ever, and a smile and friendly words from me can only be appreciated. Did the collection agent on the phone just deal with a nasty person before me…wait, I’m still working on being kind to THOSE guys :D
I have a testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand in this life. In fact, I learn something new EVERY time I study it. And THAT is something for which I remain truly grateful. Such a trite phrase. We need better words to describe this type of gratitude. I feel like I’m offering God a macaroni picture and hoping he doesn’t see the glue I spilled in the corner of the frame.
Through the Atonement, each of us….EACH of us has the gift of repentance and forgiveness offered to us. As I partake of the sacrament on Sundays, I remember that and renew my determination to have Christ in my countenance. When my children talk back to me or fight with one another, I don’t turn my back on them and end my association with them. They make my life miserable. And wonderful. At the same time.
I love my family. All of my family. I miss the ones who aren’t around. Every. Single. Day. I want to share corny comics in the funny papers with my dad. At 6:00 in the morning. I….can barely get through this sentence. I want to have my own macaroni pictures on the walls and jelly kisses and Kool-Aid grins like the ones I ensured my parents received from all my babies. I want to know that I can totally screw up. I can hurt someone’s feelings. I can lose my temper. But the next day, when I come to my senses, I can beg forgiveness, and it will be given to me. And I’ll always be ready to return the favor.
I am so very grateful and feel so unworthy to have in my life those who love me and my family, warts and all. You know who you are. And even if you don’t think it could be you, it probably is. Thank you for letting us share this human experience with you. Thank you for teaching us and being happy that we are here too. Can you imagine how wonderful it will be when we get to hang out Later? :D
I just hate nightmares, don’t you? It seems most people have some sort of recurring dream, and more often than not, it’s some nightmare you hope never comes true. You wake up and breathe a HUGE sigh of relief and run off to tell someone about the bad dream you had that you’re so glad wasn’t real. When dissected more fully, we usually discover that there is some anxiety or heartache at the base of it. I suppose if we were to resolve that anxiety, fear, sorrow, whatever it is, the nightmare would go away. I suppose.
Here’s mine: In my nightmare I have a loved one (let’s just say Dream Spouse) who is pretty much your average guy. Some people like him, some people not so much. In fact, he really reminds me of my dad, who’s been gone for 11 years :D
Anyway, the dream is just plodding along when Dream Spouse suddenly gets accused of something he never did (nor would he). I work in the legal system, so…in my dream(s)…it’s easy enough to prove his innocence, despite the fact that it’s supposed to be “innocent until proven guilty.” But in my nightmare, nothing could be further from the truth! He pleads his case to anyone who happens by, but no one will listen. There is not a single person in the pool of prospective jurors who even considers he might be innocent. After all, if one is accused of some misdeed, he must be guilty. After all, where there's smoke, there’s fire, right? I have reported many a session of jury selection, and some people actually think that way!
Dream Spouse fears for his reputation but mostly hurts because the people he thought would give him the benefit of a doubt, at the very least, have turned their backs on him altogether. And then he gets angry. Do you all remember the famous lines from “The Incredible Hulk”? “Please don’t make me angry. You won’t LIKE me when I’m angry!” Well, yeah, it goes that way. He starts with apologies and remorse. He admits that he probably did or said something that would cause feelings to be hurt. Would it be possible for him to make amends? He’s met with refusal and then stony silence. There is no forgiveness to be had. He goes from pleading to venting, which, as in real life, doesn’t really help much. The people who turned their backs on him are now congratulating themselves because, SEE, he must have done ALL that was suggested because see how defensive and angry he’s become? This ranks right up there with: “You MUST be guilty, since you hired a lawyer.”
Oh, don’t worry. I’m in the nightmare too. I wish I could say I’m just a casual observer, but then, it wouldn’t REALLY be a nightmare, would it? Well, other than hurting to see Dream Spouse hurting.
In the nightmare I become Dream Spouse’s biggest cheerleader. I see all the good he does. He is a strong leader in difficult situations. I can hardly believe how smart he is. He shows tremendous compassion for those suffering. He has taken my box of broken dreams and tenderly cared for it, fixing it little by little. He makes me laugh, he makes me cry (usually in a GOOD way), he makes me grateful. He is a human being with frailties and indiosyncracies that drive others crazy. He can be wicked funny or corny, depending on who's listening. But I am bewildered; the more I plead, the more the very same backs are turned to me. Minds have been made up. It seems that, other than in the court of public opinion, no one really wants to serve on a jury.
And then, to make it more chilling, we are before a judge in a familiar setting. I’ve been in many courtrooms in several areas, and this one is much like all the others. The judge seems kindly enough. But then he tells us that he really isn’t interested in hearing any so-called evidence (his phrase). Instead, it’s time for him to render a verdict and issue a sentence. He tells both of us…because it appears that I am on trial too, even though the accusations were never raised against me….to stand. Then he tells us that since the accusations were made, and NO ONE was willing to listen to our side of the story, he must declare that they have a factual basis and that if we were to go to trial, it is likely the jury would find us guilty.
Wait. What?
And then the sentence. For Dream Spouse it is the realization that NO hours of community service could make up for his heinous crime. The judge mentions that it is his opinion that, had my spouse only beaten and berated ME, all would be well. But since my spouse apparently “offended” others but was good to me, he is to be banished for eternity. Oh, and since I’m married to him and refuse to NOT be married to him, I get to hang out with him in that Outer Darkness place. In addition, for the next several years I am to continue hard labor with no gratitude thrown my way. ANYthing that is asked of me, small or large, I am duty bound to do…with a smile on my face and a thank you to those who thrust the work in my hands.
Dream Spouse offers to throw himself on his sword in order to save me. To no avail. It appears that I have proven myself unworthy by willingly standing by his side and loving him (even on those days I don’t LIKE him very much).
I chew on the inside of my lip, pondering all of the beautiful lessons and talks I’ve heard in church. Love one another. Forgive everyone. Extend the hand of fellowship. No, the judge tells me, reading my thoughts. Apparently I was mistaken. The way that everyone who is important to me interprets those wonderful lessons and talks is that if *they* decide someone doesn’t pass whatever test they’ve devised, they are within their rights to turn their backs on him or her. For. Ever. Forgiving others, he tells me, is really a code for enabling them.
So as I begin to stir, I see an hourglass with a crack in it. As I watch, the crack grow larger until sand begins to slip out. Then I see little pictures floating in the air. They seem to have also escaped from the hourglass. Upon closer inspection, I realize that these “pictures” are actually those who turned their backs on us, embracing the joy that can only come from loving human association. Within seconds, all of the sand has poured out of the glass, leaving it empty and broken, useless. There are no pictures left.
And then I wake up. I smile when I realize it was all just a dream. Wait. It was, wasn’t it?
I have known a great void in my life for many years. Since the spring of this year I have been making daily efforts to change my life. I have been reading the scriptures (finished the Book of Mormon…an entire new blog entry!) and remembering to say my prayers. Tithing is no longer a “wish” but a joyful reality. And I have truly been trying to humble myself and love others. That’s right, even those obnoxious attorneys who make my job such a wonder. In the meantime, I’ve been losing everything I ever thought was important in my life.
I remember when my father died, I went to pay a bill for my mom later that day. As I stood in the line, I thought about each of the other people in the line, wondering if they could tell that I had been dealt a mortal blow that very day. I wondered whether I looked any different. It’s been 11 years, and I have changed my thinking to wondering whether any of the people I meet in my life has been dealt a very serious blow that very day. Did the irritable checker in the grocery store have a fight with her husband before she came to work? Did the bank teller just get yelled at by the customer who was in just five minutes ago? It’s very likely that the witness seated before me in a deposition is NOT having the best day ever, and a smile and friendly words from me can only be appreciated. Did the collection agent on the phone just deal with a nasty person before me…wait, I’m still working on being kind to THOSE guys :D
I have a testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand in this life. In fact, I learn something new EVERY time I study it. And THAT is something for which I remain truly grateful. Such a trite phrase. We need better words to describe this type of gratitude. I feel like I’m offering God a macaroni picture and hoping he doesn’t see the glue I spilled in the corner of the frame.
Through the Atonement, each of us….EACH of us has the gift of repentance and forgiveness offered to us. As I partake of the sacrament on Sundays, I remember that and renew my determination to have Christ in my countenance. When my children talk back to me or fight with one another, I don’t turn my back on them and end my association with them. They make my life miserable. And wonderful. At the same time.
I love my family. All of my family. I miss the ones who aren’t around. Every. Single. Day. I want to share corny comics in the funny papers with my dad. At 6:00 in the morning. I….can barely get through this sentence. I want to have my own macaroni pictures on the walls and jelly kisses and Kool-Aid grins like the ones I ensured my parents received from all my babies. I want to know that I can totally screw up. I can hurt someone’s feelings. I can lose my temper. But the next day, when I come to my senses, I can beg forgiveness, and it will be given to me. And I’ll always be ready to return the favor.
I am so very grateful and feel so unworthy to have in my life those who love me and my family, warts and all. You know who you are. And even if you don’t think it could be you, it probably is. Thank you for letting us share this human experience with you. Thank you for teaching us and being happy that we are here too. Can you imagine how wonderful it will be when we get to hang out Later? :D
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