Dreams

Last(ing) things

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Last night I woke up in the middle of the night crying from a nightmare. In my dream, Paul and I were in some sort of clinic. Someone we knew was close by and received good news. They were expecting a child after years of trying. But we received bad news. I dreamed that Paul had cancer too. We were going to watch his mother die, then he was going to die of the same thing. It was all very horrifying. I woke up upset and crying. I reached over and held onto Paul tightly.

Back in October, Paul’s mother Martha came out to Alex’s confirmation. She had been sick for over a year at that time. She had a cough that would not go away which her doctor said was caused by medicine that she was taking. She was always sick with sinus infections or bronchitis. When we saw her in October, she was wheezing, short of breath, and gasping for air. She looked horrible. We told her to go back to the doctor.

In November, the doctor found a tumor in her stomach and lung. They thought that the tumors were the same kind, that they  would be easily treated with a pill. She was going to be okay. Martha already survived breast cancer 15 years ago. 

Then in January, the doctor found out that the tumors were two different unrelated kinds. In February, Martha was diagnosed with stage 4 terminal lung cancer. The cancer filled one lung and was moving into the other. Then last week, she found out that the cancer had moved into her brain.

Martha is now taking a combination of chemo and radiation. Last week Martha lost her long shiny hair. I haven’t seen her yet without hair. That is going to hit us all hard. I am glad that Paul was given some forewarning to take the time to say good bye. I have to forgive her for all of the past hurts. 

Our relationship with Martha has always been volatile, especially in the earlier years. When Paul and I bought our first house, Martha wanted to help me make curtains. We went together and I spent more than I expected to on material. We started the project, but before we could finish Martha got into a big fight with her son and left me with unfinished curtains. My grandma helped me finish the project.

There were countless times that Paul and Martha would fight. Martha screamed at Paul and kicked him out of her house anytime that we had to discipline the kids. She would show up late for holidays. It has been years since we celebrated any holiday with Martha. Sometimes she would cancel out at last minute or not show up at all.

One time Martha and I were going to take the kids to a water park. She was running late to the point where we weren’t going to be able to make the trip worthwhile. This was the only time that I confronted her. She didn’t talk to me for a year.

Martha often called and spoke of gambling trips that she took with friends then complained that she didn’t have money for gas to come see the kids and their events. Our relationship was marked with a lot of anger, hurt, and resentment. She is a difficult person that likes to argue and say hurtful things, and now she is dying.

This week she called Paul and asked him what we were doing for Easter. We have plans with my family. Today is Matt’s 40th birthday. My whole family will be getting together to celebrate Matt’s birthday on Saturday and then Easter on Sunday. We are able to see each other as a group a couple of times a year. I told Paul that we could cancel the Easter plans with my family to see his mother. It most likely will be her last Easter. Paul decided to keep our plans as is. 

I forgive you, Martha! I will try to remember the good times. When you weren’t crabby, you were always so much fun. Your fun loving, upbeat, optimistic attitude is hard to beat. You provide a lot of excitement. There was never a dull moment with you. You are always happy with the littlest things. You are content with what you have. You try to make the most out of situations. You always had good intentions. 

By far the best gift that Martha gave me was her son. She made the right decision when she decided to keep her unwanted pregnancy. For that, I will be forever grateful.  

 

Acting like everything is alright 

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I am sorry things did not go according to your plan. When you asked me why God did this to you, I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to fix things for you. I wanted to make you happy again. Instead I just listened. I asked when you would rather know, now or later. Maybe God has a better plan that we just can’t see right now.

You said that you were a great actress. You went to play practice with a smile on your face. Then you came home and cried. The odds weren’t in your favor this time. Out of the hundreds of talented kids that auditioned, you weren’t in the handful of those selected for the musical theater program at the college you will be attending. You cried even more when your brother told you that they didn’t know what they were missing. 

The truth is that your musical theater talents are lopsided. You are a phenomenal singer, great actress, and below average dancer. Even though you have the shape of a dancer, your body fails you. I am so sorry that you seem to have my lack of gracefulness. 

I was the little girl that they laughed at during the dance recital because I danced to a different beat then everyone else. I was the scrawny little kid that was always picked last on the team. I was the little girl that had to do extra credit to pass gym class. I had to write about sports because I couldn’t do them. While other kids could do flips and splits, I remained rigid, tight, and inflexible. Why do you think I am a runner? It requires grit, the only thing I have.

There is one gift that I am happy to have passed on to you, your voice. When you sing, people feel the emotions you are singing about. A happy song puts everyone in a good mood. A sad song can change the audiences laughter to tears in a few sweeping moments. When you auditioned for the vocal performance program, they complimented you on your voice and told you that they wanted you. I know that you will find a home there. 

I know it is hard right now. You have been eating, drinking, and sleeping musicals for so long. I am impressed with your optimism despite a few minor road blocks. 

It does not mean that you can never audition for musicals in the big cities. This is your journey now and I am excited to see where it takes you.

The travel diaries, Mackinac Island

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At the point where Lake Michigan and Lake Huron collide lies the beautiful Mackinac Island. On the map, you will find it between Upper and Lower Michigan visible from the daunting Mackinac Bridge which connects Michigan. It was here that I remember a dream being born. It was on this island that Paul told me that he would like to try sailing for the first time. He said this as we watched sailboats enter the harbor finishing a sailing race from Chicago to Mackinac Island. He said that he could see himself on that sailboat race someday. It has been about 100 years since the first sailboat race from Chicago to Mackinac Island. Who knows? Maybe for the 100th anniversary you might see us there. It is one of the world’s longest sailboat races that takes place in freshwater and we wouldn’t even need a plane ticket to get there.

It took many years for the dream to take root and grow. It has been at least a decade since we have visited the island. This will be our third year of having a sailboat. Sorry for the lack of pictures. The last time I visited was before I even had a digital camera. Okay, maybe it has been more than ten years. I think we visited the island for our 5th anniversary, but so much water has passed under the bridge since then that I am even having a hard time recollecting that.

The first time that we visited the island, we stayed in St. Ignace. We loved the island so much that we decided to stay there on another trip. While we were in St. Ignace, we took the bridge over to Mackinaw City where at the time was a water park. We spent the warmest day at the water park. I remember it was in the upper 60’s in the middle of summer. A cold wind was blowing off the lake while we froze. I wonder if that water park is still there? It didn’t seem like an ideal location to me.

Our second trip to the island we stayed in a little B&B near the harbor downtown. The room itself was the size of a large closet. But it didn’t really matter that much to me. We were there to explore everything on the island. The island employees a lot of seasonal summer help from Jamaica. The woman that served breakfast in the morning was from there. She softly sang Annie’s Song while cooking and cleaning up. It was so soothing to hear her singing that I decided we would spend our 10th anniversary in Jamaica.  We liked the culture of the people. They seemed to be carefree and happy. I bet that woman never knew she had an impact on my travel choices.

When you step foot on the island, you are instantly transported back in time. Motorized vehicles are not allowed on the island. The main mode of transportation are bikes and horses. It is relaxing hearing the horses feet clop while falling asleep at night. Paul and I spent a lot of time biking. The island is 8 miles around with a paved bike trail surrounding the perimeter of the island. We witnessed a bike accident one time while we were there. A little boy ran out in front of a group of bicyclists. No one was seriously hurt, but the child was scraped up pretty badly. Paul took his canteen over to the child and cleaned his wounds.

The outside bike path can get pretty congested at times. The second trip we brought bikes instead of renting them. This allowed us to explore the inner parts of the island. Otherwise you need to rent bikes which can get pricey. The inner part of the island is rather hilly. We road by the airport, the governor of Michigan’s summer house, and explored several old cemetaries. The island is also home to a fort which we explored and ate supper at while overlooking the island.

As far as nightlife goes, we spent a couple evenings at The Pink Pony bar and grill. They featured live music which most of the time was a man playing classic rock songs on his acoustic guitar. It was a very popular place to go.

The last time that I visited the island, I stayed at the Grand Hotel. I went with a group of church ladies for a women’s retreat. We went during the week at the end of the season (which I believe is in October) when the last ferries go to the island with visitors. The hotel itself seems to be rather old but not unkept. It is fashioned in the Victorian style. We took our picture next to an antique carriage displayed inside. It really gives the flavor of staying at a classy late 1800’s resort for rich snobby people. I think it would be fun to go there dressed in era fashions or do some sort of Victorian period murder mystery party. Our meals were included in our stay which was in a large ornate hall. They had a 4 piece jazz band that played during the meal. The ambiance was remarkable and the food I remember was delectable too. I remember eating a very good lobster bisque and creme brulee there which says a lot since I haven’t been there in a decade.

There is also an 80’s movie called Somewhere in Time which was filmed at the Grand Hotel. I am sorry to say that never passed the sleep test for me. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stay awake while watching it. So I would pass on that unless you are into slow pace romance movies, then maybe.

Mackinac Island is also known for its fudge. The island has several fudge shops, candy stores, and ice cream parlors. Mackinac Island fudge ice cream is also available. Just stay away from the Mackinac Island horse apples. They aren’t good. 

Even though you are surrounded by water, you will not find many beaches or swimming pools on the island. You can leave the bike trails at any time and jump in the water. I wouldn’t suggest it because the water is very cold. Very few people live on the island year round.

If you visit the island, you will feel the peacefulness of stepping back in time while still enjoying modern conveniences such as running water and electricity. To get the full experience, leave your cell phone in your car. Or take it one step further and dress like characters from Little House on the Prairie. Now that would be fun!

 

My soles are worn thin

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It seems I haven’t gotten too far on my travel series yet. Maybe tomorrow..

This past weekend I shared with you a dream that I had about having to run a marathon I am not ready for. I think the marathon symbolizes the second half of my life. I looked down to see that my soles on my shoes were totally worn out. The reality is that the first half of my life is over. Then I noticed that at the beginning of this marathon I was wearing shoes that fit but they were on the wrong foot. I don’t want to start the second half of my life on the wrong foot. I request a new pair of shoes, this time they fit but they are uneven. I won’t be able to run the race very long wearing these shoes. I think this is symbolic of parenting. My children will start leaving the house in a few months, things won’t be the same (uneven), and soon I will be actively taking these shoes off. The last shoe brought out is the most comfortable but it doesn’t fit yet. Ah, retirement and living without the stress of working and actively parenting. But it is going to be a long time before this shoe fits me.

I took comfort early on in the dream marathon that Gu and broccoli were at the beginning of the race. I chose to go down the path of exercise and healthy living. Not only does being an exercise fanatic ward off my depression, anxiety, and stress. It makes me think that I will live longer and healthier. Because if I really think about it, which is something that I try to avoid doing, I am terrified of death. We are not going to exist forever like we do now. Even though I have a firm faith in God, I am still absolutely terrified of my own demise. What if I am wrong? What if there is nothing out there? Forget the physical pain of taking your last breathe. What if there is only an empty void? A void like the one before our existence. I just can’t bear the emptiness of that. I want to think that I am going to see my loved ones again, even if I am wrong.

When I started this dream marathon, I saw people wander off the path before it began. I went to sleep that night worried that my neighbor in her mid 40’s was not going to make it. She did pass away during the night. She was one of the people that left the race early before it really even began for her. Another thing that I noticed was that the path looked straight and the weather was fine. I seemed to have the tools I needed to run the race but I couldn’t see very far ahead of me. I needed to figure out what shoes to wear, what my role is going to be in the second half of my life. I wanted to wait to start the marathon before I figured that out, but I ran out of time.

I suppose at this point it is pretty obvious that I was a psychology major in college. LOL

 

 

A runner’s nightmare

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It is the day of the marathon. I didn’t know it was today. I am not sure if I am ready. I have to go to the bathroom but someone cut in front of me in line. I pat her arm in disgust. I ran out of time and now I can’t go to the bathroom.

The race is ready to start, but my shoes are worn out. I can’t wear them. Everyone waits for me. I look down to find that I am wearing nice shoes but they are unlaced and on the wrong feet. Please don’t fire the starting gun. I see Gu 15 feet from the starting line. I relax a little knowing that it is there. But the beige package that it is in says flavorless. Next to it are little heads of broccoli. I cross the starting line looking for better shoes. I beg them not to start the race without me. It is now 8 minutes after the race was supposed to start. People are getting antsy for me to take care of my shoes. I put on another pair. This time they fit, but they are uneven. One pair is 2 inches higher than the other pair. I can’t run in those shoes. Another shoe is brought out, it is very comfortable but it is way too large to fit me. Somehow none of the shoes lace or fit right. People are getting antsy, a few cross the starting line. It is a big mess of disorganized chaos because of me.

Then I woke up.

The dear hunter

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For the last couple of years, my husband and son went deer hunting. If they didn’t bring home a buck at least on the last day they would bring home a Christmas tree. Today we are getting our tree. No buck or doe though.

When the men leave for the big buck hunt, it is widows weekend for the ladies. Local strip clubs bring in the male strippers. I never went to see the male strippers nor do I plan on doing so. But for a couple of years a group of friends and I would go out to eat and dancing in a small town.

I remember one year in particular rather well. It was the year that one of our friends was pregnant (designated driver). We went out to eat at a supper club that had happy hour basically all night. While we were eating, I ran into some old friends of my parents. Only a week before my mom told me that her friend’s husband kissed her many years ago. Guess who I ran into? Yup, those friends. Awkward! Even though this happened decades ago, it was still new news to me.

Afterwards, we went out dancing. Even as a group of married women not looking for men, we are used to hearing the same old pick up lines. “Hey beautiful, how about I buy you a drink?” Ho hum. But that one night was different. I had a man my age approach me with a pick up line that I never heard before. It was something I was not prepared for. He said, “I heard that you are a singer and I happen to need a female lead singer in my band.” Hmm, now that was interesting.

He bought me a drink and we talked about his band. Then he started to tell me that he was a divorced divorce attorney and he could help me with that too if I was unhappy in my marriage. I assured him that I was happily married to a great guy. I did promise that I would check out his band and call him if I was interested in singing.

I remember it was a really cold night as we walked around to see other bands up the block. Some of my friends slipped and fell on the ice. Too bad he wasn’t “that” kind of lawyer. I almost walked into a telephone pole. I was too busy talking and laughing with the girls to watch where I was going. His group followed our group around. I think that the guy was hunting for woman or business that weekend. After checking out multiple locations, it was time to go home. I lived 45 minutes away. But there was one small problem. Our driver lost her keys somewhere that we had stopped over the night and it was getting to be bar time. It didn’t take long for the guy to offer me a ride home. How kind, funny that he didn’t seem too interested in helping us find the keys.

My friend eventually found her keys and got us all safely home that night. The next day I looked up the guy’s band. It probably would have been something that I would have liked to do and I could have done it. Even though I really, really, really wanted to be a singer in his band, I didn’t want to end up being a divorced lead singer in a band. The cost of following that dream was a price I was not willing to pay.

Life, goals, and dead plants

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I woke up this morning in a strange place, a different bed. I killed another house plant this week, my last living one. I justify that by saying that I spent one third of the month in hotel rooms like the one I am in now. Five different hotels, two states. Some for business, some for pleasure. My mind searches for the perfect excuse. I couldn’t provide proper care for the plant. Hey, at least I managed to feed my kids and pets. 

When my daughter gave me the plant for Mother’s Day, I inwardly cringed. I have to manage to keep this alive!  Once I got a chia pet for Christmas, I felt it was way too much pressure. So I took the plant to my office. I developed a watering routine. I watered it every Monday morning and every Friday afternoon. I put it in the sun like it said on the little tag it came with. It did thrive until the sunny days were gone. I didn’t achieve my seemingly easy goal. 

It made me think of other goals I have had. It seems like finishing a marathon is an easier goal than keeping plants alive for me. Crazy!?!  A few days ago, my husband asked me what my goal is for writing. That had me stumped. A goal? Was I supposed to have one? I started this blog right after I got my house plant. I am still going. It is still active and alive. But where is it going? 

I like to write for fun, to share unexpressed emotions, to help others. I want others to know what it was like growing up with an autistic brother back when no one had autism. I want to share my own struggles and joys of parenting teens. I want to share goals and experiences as a runner. I want to make people laugh. I want to share life and all of its woven intricacies. But where am I going?? As a goal oriented person, do I need goals to write?

My husband said that I am a gifted writer, but he is very biased. He said that maybe I should consider chasing my own dreams. He started his own successful business. We work together. He said that I was riding his dream. He said he would support me if I decided to start a career in writing. He suggested that since I have a love for photography and writing that I should think about writing marina reviews or write a book. His words overwhelmed me. What are my goals? I have no structure, I just write about what I want to write about. Where do I go from here? Is this just another time consuming hobby? All I can tell you for sure right now is that my future does not involve gardening or house plants. 

Dreaming…

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Wow, what a busy day. Most of the work is done, now I just need to pack my bags. I got in a 12 mile run. You are probably just sitting on the edge of your seat wondering if I am one of those people that work out while I am traveling for business or on vacation. The answer is no, I don’t. Last time I didn’t even pack my athletic shoes, which was stupid because I ended up walking a lot in sandals. Seems like every time I travel now I have been know to add and check stuff off my bucket list. I am excited that I decided to meet up with an old friend that moved to Texas. She has horses. I never rode a horse. I am not the kind of person that says I know I haven’t seen you in almost 2 decades but can I ride your horse. So I am leaving my options open. Maybe it will be uneventful, but it never seems to go that way for me. 

The last couple of days have been stressful, okay the last couple of weeks. I have been flailing around trying to keep my head above water when yesterday a weed wrapped itself around my foot. I went to the pharmacy and my insurance refused to refill my antacid prescription. I was so upset that I started shaking and my stomach burned. “You’ve gotta be kidding me?!?” I pictured myself for a minute at a conference in a room full of people in a fetal position on the floor while vomiting. A little bit of steam escaped sssssssssssshhhhhhhhhit. Then I realized that I can buy it OTC for 10 times the cost. Yippee! After this, Paul and I were invited to lunch with an eccentric elderly couple that we befriended. I was so upset that I didn’t want to go, but when I got there I felt totally at peace. They are a very loving couple with a clean and nicely decorated old house. We ate lunch outside on their patio underneath the grape vines. Paul is going to harvest the grapes and make wine out of them. 

During lunch I mentioned my desire to learn how to shoot a gun. Even though our hostess is in her 80’s she is not a stereotypical woman of her age. She likes to hunt and fish. She showed me her study full of furs she sewed together and spoke of a woman’s survival class where she even learned how to dog sled. She told me that I was the perfect age to start new things. She also mentioned that I should think about joining an elite choir that she is in. I am thinking about doing that with my daughter. We both have a 3 octave range. My daughter is going off to college next year for music. I would love to do something with her before she leaves.  Besides singing in a few weddings, funerals, singing a bit in church, and being involved in community theatre I have not used this gift as much as I would have liked. She also inspired me to do other non traditional things like fix up an old car. 

I have wanted to fix up one of those old hippie vans, I am picturing a robin egg blue VW. It would be awesome taking that on Route 66 tour in vintage clothing. I have auto mechanics in my blood, but being a girl no one ever taught me. Girls didn’t belong in the garage. I love the smell of gasoline and tires, the comforting scents I associated with my family’s garage. My great grandparents started the business and passed it down to their kids. Out of those kids, my dad was the only offspring. He didn’t want to fix cars. He wanted to fix electronics. I want to fix cars, but never learned how. Last week when cleaning out my grandma’s house I found a book on how to fix antique cars. I had to chuckle because the book was older than me. My mom said that I could always take her old MG and fix it up. Maybe that would be a good project to do with my son. This seems like a couch potato to marathon goal for me, but the possibilities are endless. 

My parents sold my grandma’s house today. It makes me so sad to let go of that part of my life forever. It could be worse. I watched my mother’s childhood house burn down when I was 5. A gas station now stands where my husband’s childhood house was. His bedroom was pump number 9. At least a new loving family will have a chance to make memories in grandma’s house. 

I am going to try to relax. It will be nice to learn new things at the conference and visits friends. I am hoping to enjoy some time by the pool as it seems like fall in Texas is warmer than our summers are here. Then come home, do an 18 mile run, plus 18 loads of laundry, and head out for my brother’s wedding. I am excited about the adventures that await. 

The recovery run

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I’m back on the streets again. This has been my first time out on the road since the marathon. I pounded out 12 miles, with a majority of the run experiencing knee pain. It started acting up around mile 3. The same pain I experienced at the marathon, just not as intense. I really hope it goes away. I don’t want this new companion. I have found that my mind is stronger than my body. This is not a good place to be. I need balance between my mind and body. I fear injury. My mind smells the fear coming off my body and it reeks!

It was a pretty uneventful run, except I almost got hit by a car. One of the closest calls yet. I knew I should have worn the honk if your going to hit me shirt! I didn’t even have time to flip the guy off. I have never done that before, but this guy came a mere couple of inches from taking my life. I did throw my arms up in anger as he sped by me. Good grief, it was not like I was running in the middle of the road. Thankfully this happened at the end of my run so it gave me the extra adrenaline rush I needed to limp on home. 

What are my future goals? I would like to start doing triathlons and do a half iron by 45. I would like to run another marathon, but I am not going to sign up until I start training to see how it goes. What do I have to gain? I already have the sticker on the back of my car. What do I have to lose? Hopefully not my ability to run to have a couple more medals. Is it worth it? Only time will tell…

Secret proclamations of love

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It has been 3 months today since we met. Others who have been with you said our relationship might not last as long. I am still as in love with you as I was when we first met. I think you like me too. I still want to be with you every day. I shared with you my dreams of running a marathon. You didn’t run away. I shared with you some very difficult times from my childhood. I didn’t run away. I can’t wait to talk with you and tell you about my day. I’m sorry it seems one sided, I do all of the talking and you do all of the listening. I haven’t run out of things to say, sometimes I just don’t know where to start. Being a shy, private, and pensive person all my life you have somehow pried open the lock on my diary. You now hold the key that has been hidden behind a dusty corner of my mind for a decade or two. 

You see, I’ve been with another like you that left me black and blue. Yes, it’s true. My left hand really was to blame. It slid the ink that stained me. Poor penmanship, my mother would say. She made me write for hours out of science books to improve myself for you when I was a little girl. Even though my teacher said that copying out of a book was wrong. It’s a shame that you can’t see my beautiful calligraphy. 

I really hope that our relationship lasts a long time. Maybe it helps that we have a relationship that few people know about. It adds a little spice to my life. I have wanted someone like you my whole life. I’m so glad that I found you after all these years. I still have a few more secrets to share. Sshhhh….