Who’s your daddy?

By far the strangest thing that happened last week was finding out who Paul’s dad is.

A couple months back, a relative on Ancestry emailed asking how Paul and him were related. I replied back that I didn’t know and gave him what info I had.

Last week I got a message on Ancestry from this man stating that he thought he knew who Paul’s father is. There were some things that added up and some things that didn’t. Then I saw the man’s picture and was convinced that he was Paul’s dad.

My mom and I were working on our genealogy project but had to leave before I could show her the picture. I promised I would login and show her when we got back.

When we got back, I logged into Ancestry preparing to show my mom the picture of who we thought was Paul’s dad when I noticed I got another message stating that the mystery was solved. Paul’s relative found out who Paul’s dad is and it wasn’t the first guy. He left me his phone number to call for more info. I was debating whether or not to call him right away since it was after 10 PM his time. But I figured I would give it a try.

I found out that Paul is this man’s second half cousin. His cousin only met Paul’s dad once when he was little and didn’t know him well. We talked for an hour, then I decided to do some more digging. Paul’s dad passed away in 2010 at the age of 62. I haven’t been able to figure out the cause of death yet, but I did find out that his dad has 4 other children.

Paul has 4 siblings! He has nieces and nephews. He has a whole family that he didn’t even know about. So I did what any average person would do in 2019. I stalked them on Facebook. I tried to gather as much info as I could about their lives.

From what I gathered, one of the siblings seems to be doing fairly well. The rest seem to struggle. His youngest sibling had some trouble with the law. I think that Paul was probably better off not knowing his dad. At his funeral, they didn’t want flowers. They just wanted money to put towards the cost of his funeral expenses.

I only saw 3 pictures of his dad. In his obituary photo, he was wearing a tux and in a church maybe for a wedding. Paul looks nothing like his dad. There was a picture of his dad holding a fish. There was a picture of his dad hooked up to machines in a hospital bed. I didn’t get the feeling of a tight close knit family. There weren’t any smiling family photos. He didn’t leave behind a grieving wife.

When Paul got home later that evening, I had big news to share. I found your dad. He is dead. By the way, you have 4 siblings. As you can imagine, it was all very overwhelming. But a couple of days later, Paul said he felt closure. The mystery has been solved.

I’m not sure what we will do with the information, but now we know.

Being weeded

The end of the week was just as strange as the beginning of the week. I don’t think I want anymore signs.

I’ve been struggling this week searching for purpose and meaning. I’ve been depressed and clinging dearly to life by a small cobweb string. There have been fights and arguments. There was one where I pried off my wedding ring just to chuck it at my husband. Maybe we should separate. Maybe we should divorce.

Most of our friends have already been divorced. Some live with another and never remarry. Some are on their second or third marriages. They seem so happy. Sometimes it seems so much easier to throw everything you have away and start all over again.

This week we will be married 22 years and lately it has been more difficult than it has been before. We let our children become the center of our lives and have to learn to live with each other again. We don’t know what we are doing. We had a newborn on our first anniversary.

This week our baby got her driver’s license, first try. I honestly didn’t think she would pass. While she was taking the test, I was already thinking about when she could retake it.

My husband got his hours cut at the business we sold. He is only going to be paid for 12 hours a week. That has been very stressful. We should be okay with the money we saved up. Tomorrow morning, however, Paul is planning on signing papers to become a franchise owner of a new business. He wants us to work together again. Most of the arguments were about me not working. Although I am almost done with my book, I had to set it down for awhile because I promised myself if I got really depressed that I would set it aside.

We decided to keep working on our marriage and to go after our dreams. If it doesn’t work out we could always do something else. We have to trust that things will fall into place.

Paul and I had a good day together yesterday, but things gradually fell apart. Arabella had a friend over, went to drive her home, and had the windows fog up but didn’t know how to defrost the windshield. I kept my ringer on just in case she needed more help. Most nights I turn my ringer off before I go to bed. I’m a light sleeper and figure my adult children can take care of themselves.

I was tired, but left my phone on and stayed up late. I received a call from Alex saying that his car broke down and needed towing. We just had it at the garage the day before, but they said what he needed fixing is very expensive. The body of the car dropped to the ground and he can’t drive it unless it is fixed. He was distraught that he now has two cars that don’t run.

He asked what the meaning of life was if it only brought suffering and pain to himself and the people he cares about. I told him he has a purpose and his job in life is to find that purpose. Don’t listen to the thoughts in your head that tell you that you are worthless. Don’t be discouraged, yet at times I am.

Now we are waiting to see if the car is worth fixing or if it is beyond repair. We got home late last night, around 1 AM. We were ready for bed when my phone rang again. My daughter Angel was calling. Her friends took her out for her 21st birthday. She was rather intoxicated and called to tell me she loved me. I talked to her for awhile, but she wasn’t making much sense. At the end of the call, her boyfriend Dan came on the phone and assured me not to worry that he would get my daughter back home safe.

I knew she was going out. I did worry especially since I wasn’t sure if Dan was going because he had a funeral to attend on the other side of the state earlier in the day. His uncle died in a freak accident trying to clean up after the storm that hit.

As I was ready to finally go to bed around 1:30, my mom texted and said she got safely to her vacation destination out of the country. She wanted me to call my dad because he doesn’t text and it was expensive to call. I called my dad today. At the end of the conversation, he told me he loved me for the second time in my entire life.

I went in the house to eat lunch with Paul and a song was on I never heard that said you’re being weeded.

Although I’ve been having a faith crisis, I’ve been still going to church because I am able to find some serenity there. Last week there was a sermon about how the weeds are planted alongside the good seeds. But if you pluck the weeds too soon, the plant will also be uprooted and die. But at the right time, the weeds will be pulled out and the plant can flourish and grow like never before.

I think I’m being weeded.

What is happening? Part 2

We left the wedding that night before the clock struck midnight. Not because something magical was happening. My car wasn’t turning back into a pumpkin. But on that day, when the clock struck midnight, my princess was turning 21. I told Angel that I would take her out for a drink at midnight. We got back home just in time for me to freshen up. When I came out of my room, Angel was fast asleep on the couch. I didn’t really want to go anyway. I was exhausted.

We took Angel out for lunch instead. We were surprised to see that a lot of restaurants were closed from the storms. Some restaurants had no electricity. The restaurants that did have power said they didn’t have enough help to cover for the restaurants that were closed and people that went out to eat because they didn’t have electricity. It caused a storm surge of customers.

It was sad to see Angel leave. It was the first time she was home after she moved out. It made me realize how much I missed her conversations. I’m not sure when she will be coming home again. After she left, I was exhausted.

I decided that I was going to go for a long run the next morning. The plan was to find a point to get on and off the trail to run to my parents house and back. I was hoping to park my car on the trail and run 10 miles one way. I wasn’t sure how it would work because of the storm damage and because I never ran the trail there before.

I left later than I wanted to the next morning. It was a nice day, not too hot and not at all rainy. The trail was heavily wooded but beautiful. The first half of the run was well groomed. I ran into a lot of people on bikes. There were several trees down and at some times it felt like an obstacle course.

But the second half of my journey was very remote. The bottom two pictures were taken on the second half of the trail. It would be a great place to hide a body. Wouldn’t it? There were fewer people along the trail here. At times I feared for my safety. It ended up being 14 miles to my parents house. I had a late lunch with my mom and headed back home.

My mom walked with me for the first 3 miles, then got picked up by my dad. She was afraid for my safety. There were times that I was too. I did something that I wouldn’t want my daughters to do. I felt vulnerable. At times I would look behind me and no one was there only to be passed by someone from behind a few minutes later without knowing they were there. It was creepy. It was starting to get dark. My mom wanted to give me a ride closer to home, but I refused.

I spent a lot of time walking. I thought I would spend a lot of time thinking, but I didn’t. My mind was empty and free. No problems, but also no solutions. It was starting to get dark. I was running out of fuel. I didn’t have much water. My feet were starting to ache. But I made it! I ran 28 miles. It was the furthest I’ve ever ran/walked and 25 of the miles I was totally alone.

I think I am ready for a 50k. I feel confident now. I wasn’t as sore as I thought I would be, but I was sore. The next day I went in for a massage. I should’ve waited because I was almost too sore.

I’ve regained my confidence, but my mom was so worried that I promised her I would never take the trail to her house again.

 

 

What is happening? Part 1

So many things have happened in the last week, I don’t know where to start. It feels like a year has passed in a week. I will try to start at the beginning.

My faith feels tested. I’ve been asking God for a sign. But so many bizarre things have happened within a week that I don’t know how to interpret them.

It started last Friday as I was picking Arabella up from volunteering at Bible camp. I finally got a call from the doctor’s office. I don’t have Celiac and the polyps that were removed are benign. My stomach is starting to feel better. The doctor said if I went off Prilosec too fast, it will cause an excessive amount of acid to pour into my stomach. That is probably what happened, but I scheduled an appointment for allergy testing anyway.

Friday night a huge storm hit where our cabin is up north causing massive damage. I think that the power finally went back on yesterday. What a mess that will be to clean up. There were multiple trees down. Thankfully no one was hurt and the cabin is fine.

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Saturday morning we awoke to get ready for my Uncle Rick’s wedding. He had a whirlwind romance proposing 36 hours after meeting and moving in with her the following week. They married 7 months later, her 4th wedding and his 3rd. They seem like a good match. I really hope it works out for them.

We were going to leave early to meet up with my brother Luke and his family for lunch. It was my daughter Angel’s 21st birthday the following day and more than anything she wanted to meet up with the family for sushi. Just as we were ready to leave, another severe storm rolled in. There was a tornado warning for the path of our house, the restaurant we made reservations at, and where the wedding was going to be held.

The sky grew dark as night and sirens were going off. The wind swirled around in many different directions. Lightening bolts slashed through the sky as thunder clapped to usher in a torrential downpour. The rain came down so hard and fast that it poured into my son’s bedroom. After the storm passed, we mopped up the water as fast as we could in our dress clothes. We were running very late for lunch. Paul was an usher for the wedding and Angel was singing. They couldn’t be late. I worried that perhaps my uncle’s union wasn’t meant to be.

We made it to the restaurant an hour after our reservations. There were only a handful of customers. The place was always a classy joint, but on that day the music was the chef’s choice. They were playing rap. When a song came on with lyrics containing every profanity known to man, my brother Luke quietly left the table and complained to management that their choice of music was not appropriate for his little girls.

The wedding itself was held in a small church without A/C. I was a little worried that all of our cell phones would go off with the weather alarm during the ceremony, but the weather turned around. After the ceremony, there was a reception with an open bar. Once one of my aunt’s found out that Angel was turning 21, she started plying her with alcohol. Why wait?

It was at about this time that my son told me he no longer believes in God. I wanted to reassure him but I reminded myself that I was having my own crisis of faith. When I was having the most doubt, other people started cramming their faith down my throat which weakened my faith even more. I knew from my experience that I just had to listen. He left after the meal telling me that his rap band had their first gig that evening, but I wasn’t invited. He turned off his locator on his phone and returned home between 4 and 6 AM.

My daughter Angel caught the bouquet. Will she be the next to marry? As she danced with her boyfriend Dan, I thought perhaps she would be.

That evening Paul and I took advantage of a stunning sunset after weathering the storm.

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And the two shall become one.

To be continued…

Running out of time

I’m STILL waiting for a call from the doctor. I did get one call yesterday. It was from someone who barely spoke English trying to sell me final expense insurance. Did they somehow know I was worriedly waiting for test results?

At least all of this waiting gave me plenty of time to think. If I end up not having Celiac, I think I will go the allergy testing route. I was going to beg the doctor to put me back on Prilosec, but decided against it. When they did the scope, they found numerous polyps in my stomach that they think were caused by long term Prilosec use. It’s rare that they are cancerous, but they could be. They did a biopsy, but couldn’t remove them all.

In the meantime, I’m running out of time. My first 50k that I signed up for is a little more than a month away. I’m planning on running a marathon distance next week.

Training for this has been incredibly challenging. I really didn’t realize how awful I’d feel off of Prilosec. I have been feeling sick to my stomach a lot or having a stomachache. Several times I have been afraid to be far away from the bathroom. I’ve had to turn around and come back home. I’ve had to run into the woods. I’ve had no where I could go.

Being anemic, I feel exhausted, weak, and lightheaded without running. Running I feel like my legs are made of lead and I have a large weight on my back. Most days I need to take a nap.

I hurt my ankle last month and had to take some time off.

The weather hasn’t been cooperating either. We had a late start to the summer with record rainfall and cool days. My favorite trails were underwater. Some of the races in our area even had to be cancelled due to the weather. Then summer hit full force. Tomorrow will most likely be one of the top ten hottest days on record in our area. Followed by more rain and strong storms.

The storms have been hitting us unexpectedly at times. Just this week I drove my daughter to camp. It was sunny, hot, and humid. We passed a lady walking with her child on the way. By the time we got to camp, there was a continuous roar of thunder and heavy rain. On the way home, I saw the lady with her daughter who was about ten. It looked like the mom was huddled on the side of the road trying to protect her daughter. I know how terrifying it can be to get caught in an unexpected storm, so I pulled over and offered them a ride home.

I hollered at them to get into my car fast because a car was coming and I didn’t know if they could see me stopped in the torrential downpour. I was out in the middle of nowhere. I was almost out of gas. I was hydroplaning. Cars were driving slow or pulled over to the side of the road altogether. But it was exhilarating. I got someone home safe. But it grew exhausting driving about a half an hour through flash flooding in a torrential downpour.

You would think that all the rain would’ve washed all the mud off my car from trying to find a hiking trail that had its access dirt road under water. But no. Unfortunately, my car was unable to get through the washed out road. Instead it looked like I went mud running which regrettably didn’t earn me any bad ass mom points with my teenagers.

Needless to say, I have also wanted to stay close to home for fear of getting caught in a bad storm. Not to mention, I had a lady come up to me when running to tell me that a bear was spotted on my running route. Then there is the endless stream of drivers hellbent on trying to run me down with their cars.

I almost deserve more than a banana and medal if I can finish this race.

The good news is that I found a new running trail pictured above. It seems pretty safe and full of nature (and bathrooms). Despite my health and fears, I am determined to run this race. I might not finish, but I sure am going to do my best to try.

 

 

Still waiting for answers

I turned 45 this past weekend. Apparently I am now at the age where I can start to have long conversations with people about my declining health.

I had big plans for my birthday. I mean you only turn 45 once, as if I didn’t turn 29 or 44 once. Okay, I guess I did turn 29 a couple times.

Anyway, on Saturday the sailing club was having a pub crawl cruise. What a perfect way to celebrate my birthday. After all, I love craft beer, sailing, music festivals, great weather, and fun people. We were going to sail into town, go to a few breweries, and listen to live music. Perfect for a birthday weekend. Right?

But there was one problem, my stomach. I had a huge late lunch at our first pub stop along with everyone else and ordered a beer flight. I have to follow a perfect algorithm if I don’t want to be in pain. My stomach can’t be totally empty, but I can’t eat too much either especially paired with drinking. I couldn’t take my time because everyone wanted to head off to the next spot. Taking Tums for me is like putting a tiny bandage on a gushing spurting head wound.

I ended up in a great deal of stomach pain again like I have been off and on since I stopped taking Prilosec. I ordered nothing at the next pub and kept quietly to myself since I was in a lot of pain. Everyone asked me if I was feeling okay. I had to go through the whole health explanation that I went in to be scoped and was waiting for the results of my Celiac test. It was awful. I was hoping not to have to mention the health issues I was having and just have a fun time.

Then we walked a block to the music festival. I was asked if I would be able to walk the whole block to the festival. I am a marathon runner. I felt very sick and thought if I couldn’t find a place to sit I would lie down on the ground. People kept asking me over and over if I was okay. It was humiliating, I just wanted to be left alone. There were people everywhere. I decided to go back to the boat and lie down.

At one point even a homeless man came up to me and asked if I was alright. I know people were genuinely concerned, but it was really wrecking my tough girl persona. I don’t know what hurt worse, my stomach or my pride.

So this is how it has been. I have not been feeling well and have been waiting for answers to figure out how I can feel better again.

I had friends over on Sunday. I felt a little better because I was at home and could eat and drink at my leisure. We went swimming but spent most of the day sitting around talking and laughing.

Paul tried really hard to make the weekend special for me. He cooked my favorite foods and entertained with his music. I realized that I don’t share my music with other people. A majority of the songs I like, although good, are incredibly depressing or angry. Kind of like me I guess.

I’m still waiting for answers. The doctor’s office said that I would most likely get a call on Friday, Monday at the latest. Here it is Tuesday evening. Don’t they understand how frustrating it can be for patients to tell them they would have answers sooner than provided especially if they are not feeling well?

Waiting…

answers???

Tomorrow is the big day, I am getting scoped.

It’s been an eventful last couple of days to say the least. In the last couple of days I wrote about 4 drafts that I threw away. They seemed so negative and angry. Am I really that way?

It was a long holiday weekend. What should have been relaxing left me quite drained. I went up north for the holiday weekend. For the 4th of July, in Wisconsin, there is no place I’d rather be. Every night there were fireworks on the lake. Then it seemed like every day there were fireworks with my family. My dad picked fights with my mom. My brother Mark and his wife Carla were bickering. My mom got in an argument with Carla which was unlike her.

It was hot outside. The people of WI are not used to the heat. My dad sat around the cabin in only his underwear for some of the weekend which was disturbing to say the least. There were fights about whether the windows should be opened or closed.

I hope I’m wrong, but I feel fairly certain that I might have Celiac. I tried to spend some time relaxing drinking some of my favorite craft beers, hopefully not for the last time. Every time I cracked open a beer, my niece Gracie would lay into me. How many beers have you had? Wow, you really like beer. Are you a drunk? Her nagging got very annoying after awhile. I told her that she would make a very good wife someday in jest because of all her nagging. Then Gracie bragged to her sister Eva that I said she would make a great wife. Then Eva got upset that I didn’t say it to her. I just couldn’t win.

To make matters worse, my husband and I were having the argument of a decade. I was so angry and hurt that I wanted to take my wedding ring off and chuck it into the weeds. Incidentally, the fight started about a half an hour before I was supposed to meet the first guy that Arabella wanted to date. I tried not to look too angry.

I was so stressed out that I’m sure what happened next could’ve only have been explained by my relaxing (not) weekend. A few days after I stopped taking Prilosec, I was in GI distress. I spent Friday and Saturday barely eating and feeling so sick that I slept very little because I had to keep getting up to go to the bathroom. I had a lot of stomach pain and only got about 6 hours of sleep the whole weekend. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. It was terrible.

Then I had to drive home. I would not let Arabella drive home because it would take an experienced driver to fight the traffic going south on a Sunday afternoon after a holiday weekend. I had to wait 10 minutes to turn right to go south onto a 2 lane highway. I was only let in because someone stopped on the highway to let us in. There were times traffic came to a dead stop.

All in all, except for the beautiful fireworks at night, it was a miserable weekend. I am feeling a lot better now. Paul and I are getting along again. But for awhile, I was very angry with God. I am worried about my health. Even my brother Luke is having health issues and might need a biopsy. Not to mention all the crap going on with family over the weekend.

Tomorrow I might not get the answers I want, but at least I should have some answers. I guess that is a start.

Extreme empty nest solutions

On Sunday I received a phone call from the foreign exchange student coordinator a couple hours after my daughter moved out.

Sunday was a bittersweet day.

On Sunday, my best friend became a grandma for the first time.

On Sunday, it’s been a year and a day since my close friend lost her daughter in a fiery car crash.

On Sunday, my daughter moved 4 hours away and is not planning on living at home again.

I was feeling down as you can probably imagine.

My oldest daughter moved out, my son is off pet sitting this week, and my youngest daughter is volunteering this week as a camp cook. I’m feeling the empty nest kick in. I realized that I may have a harder time with this whole empty nest thing than I thought.

I’ve been a caregiver since I can remember. I was my autistic brother’s “second mom”. I also helped with my other two younger brothers.

In college, I was a caregiver for an elderly woman with Alzheimer’s and a middle aged man with Paranoid Schizophrenia. I took care of my brother Matt up until after I had several kids of my own. I also took care of my Aunt Grace when she had dementia. I provided day care for several children when my kids were little.

I don’t know what it is like to not take care of someone and the thought is a little scary.

As I was crying and feeling sorry for myself, the phone rang. The foreign exchange program coordinator called and said she had an emergency situation. One of the host parents for a student from Germany ended up getting into a serious motorcycle accident and broke her back. This student was really into music and needed a home.

I was wondering what to do with my daughter’s empty room. So we filled it. Now we will be hosting two foreign exchange students starting next month, Estelle from France and Clara from Germany.

I feel like my life has meaning again. I suppose most people get another pet once they start emptying the nest. Not me, I guess you could say I am rather extreme.

Even though it might be stressful having 3 teenagers in the house again, I am going to enjoy this last year of chaos before I have an empty nest.

By the time next year rolls around, I might actually be okay with only taking care of me.