struggle

Stranger then family

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We had our final show this past weekend…What started out as trepidation ended with exhilaration..

I have been thinking again the last couple of days…Community theater is not that much different from running a marathon. I know that some of you may think my comment is a bit of a stretch, especially if you have done one or the other or neither..

There are commonalities… The months of training that nobody really sees… Special clothing… Anticipation…Dread…Goal setting… Setbacks…Worries… Until the months of training culminates with one big ending…the show or race with a lot of spectators.

Our common goal forces us to reach out to people that we wouldn’t talk to in our everyday ordinary lives..that person is the one we hold hands with as we limp across the finish line…It doesn’t matter if we voted for different candidates. All of the things that divide us melt away as we walk hand in hand towards a common goal.

It becomes a place where strangers become family.

It doesn’t matter if I really liked my part or not, although being cast in a great role that really fits adds so much to the experience. I can’t say my lines if no one replies with theirs. We have to work together.

It doesn’t matter if I run fast or slow. Maybe it is a good thing that I am not the fastest runner. It forces me to reach out for the hand of another running down the same road.

Long distance racing and working as a team to make a community theater show great are some of the biggest natural highs that I have experienced in life.

All of the long hours memorizing lines, practicing songs, and running long distances makes it all the more rewarding.

The more you put into it, the more you get out of it.

Why can’t life be like that all of the time? Why can’t we grab the hand of a fellow stranger struggling along the path? Why must we get so hung up on squabbling about our differences??

 

Fights with myself

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Using my strength to fight my weakness has become a double edged sword right in the gut.

After yesterday, I thought I would have to call the doctor today. This has been the worst GERD episode that I have had in awhile. I know that it was stress related. The stress has been eating me alive lately despite the double dose of Prilosec the doctor prescribed me. That and a strong family history of ulcers and stomach issues probably doesn’t help.

Parenting teenagers has been difficult lately. Things have gotten better since we last spoke. My daughter is being more respectful. Life has been difficult for us all lately.

The situation with my son has gotten better too..Now instead of driving across the state with a car full of teens, my son decided to spend the weekend at home studying. While this may look good to you on paper(?), my son is working on a science project for the school science fair that involves doing an experiment on sleep. The kids are going to stay up for 24 hours and do testing every hour. This experiment is going to be done at my house. So, might as well just add me to the study. I almost wish now that he packed the car up with all of his friends (even the boy that rides in the trunk) and drove across the state.

Do you think he is trying to get back at me for not letting him go??

Then add in my mother-in-law being in the final stages of cancer, I have been stressed to the max.

I figured I wouldn’t be doing anyone any favors if I land myself in the hospital with an ulcer. I am NEEDED at home and at work.

I need to learn how to relax and find ways to take better care of myself.

My natural tendency after any perceived weakness is to be harder on myself. If my body fails me, I’m going to push it. I work harder. I make my workouts more grueling. I make sure to not rest or take it easy. I take on too much.

I use my biggest strength, my determination, to fight myself. I have to stop beating myself up. The world does that enough already!

It seems like the stress during this round of the fight has chosen to attack my body and not my mind. For the moment, the demons in my mind have not been stirred from their hibernation. It makes it easier to deal with the external stress.

Now I just need to learn how to relax. It has never been my strong suit.

My determination and self-discipline is what gets me out of bed in the morning. It forces me to work hard. It’s my drill seargant for my tough exercise routine. It’s what keeps me going. It helps me accomplish my goals.

And sometimes it is a double edged sword..I beat myself up instead of taking care of myself like I should.

 

A simple gift

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Most of the time it is the trials in life that shape and mold us into people with character and strength. It makes us better people.

But if I wholeheartedly believe what I just said…than why do I want the opposite for my children?

Paul and I are both (gulp) intellectuals. We try to provide an environment that stimulates learning and promotes education. We read the kids a lot of books when they were young. Paul and I both love to read. Paul spent half of our children’s childhood working on his Master’s degree. He spends hours researching topics of interest, such as, making a geometrical chart with the wind trajectory and sailing co-ordinates to try to improve his race to learning how to rewire his boat. They always see me writing.

We thought that our children would embrace learning, and most of them do. That is why we had such a hard time the last several years when our son kept bringing home failing grades. We knew that he was smart.

We weren’t expecting him to be just like his dad…

Paul grew up in a completely different environment. His mother, Martha, dropped out of high school before she got pregnant with him as a teenager. She tried over the years to get her GED, but never could pass the test. When she was in her 50’s, she went back to school to get her CNA certificate. Paul, the kids, and I watched her walk down the aisle in her cap and gown to receive her diploma. She was so ecstatic. It was the first degree that she earned in her life. Her excitement saddened me.

When Paul was in 4th grade, he moved from Chicago to a small rural town in Wisconsin. He moved up with his mom and grandma. Due to a brief marriage, Martha had a different last name than Paul. Paul shared the last name of his grandma. This was a very unusual situation back in the 70’s in that area. The kids picked on him because he had no dad. He had a mother with a different last name and still no dad. Everyone thought that Paul was stupid because his mother was intellectually slow. Paul thought that he was stupid too.

He didn’t have a parent that valued education. On parents day at school, he sat alone. His mom couldn’t take time off of work because she was a single parent and had bills to pay. She did what she had to do. He didn’t have someone in the house that could help him with homework. He didn’t have a dad to play catch with.

He failed a high school class and had to take remedial summer school. He ended up going to college because a friend was going and he thought it would be fun. He went to college, did too much partying, and still got bad grades. It caught up to him eventually.

Paul ended up getting kicked out of college for a semester. He went back to his small town and got a factory job alongside his mother. He noticed how poorly his mother was treated there. He couldn’t see himself living that way for the rest of his life. The next semester he went back to school and decided that he wanted to work hard to get good grades. He turned his life around. He even applied for law school, but got rejected.

Sometimes Paul feels like he could’ve been so much more..

He wanted a better life for our children. He gave them something that he never had, although it seems so simple, so basic..

Now it is up to them what they will do with this gift.