Several months ago, my husband changed jobs at the railroad. He went from an inside, desk (white collar) job to an outside, yard (blue collar) job. With this change, his shift changed as well. For years (22 or more) my husband worked the swing or late shift. When he was in retail, he worked the closing shift, when he went to the railroad, he worked the swing shift. We used to joke that his choice in shift is what kept us married so long. Now, he is on my shift. You know the one, 8am to 5pm (or something thereabouts).
Now we spend time together. This has taken some getting used to. Now we have a morning bathroom schedule. I get up first, so I have my time in the bathroom. Not that I need a long time, but I just don't like sharing. I admit it, I'm selfish.
We also have one day a week off together. This has also taken some getting used to. We spend Saturdays together. All day. Saturday used to be my day for running errands in the morning, before he would head off to work. I could go at my own pace, where I wanted, and do what I wanted. That's what I wanted to do today. Go run my errands. I had a mental list of what I needed to do and where I wanted to go. The hubs decided he wanted to go with so we could spend time together. Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful that after 21 years of marriage he still wants to spend time with me. Extremely very grateful. It just surprised me that he wanted to go run errands with me. I mean, it's not that fun. Run to Walgreens to pick up a prescription, then Natural Pantry to see if they have a sodium free baking soda substitute (they don't, just in case you are wondering), then to Wal-Mart to get pop and a few other things. I mean, that's not really fun. Then he surprised me. He took me to breakfast. We went to Kriner's Diner. If you've never been, you need to go. If you ever make it to Anchorage, you need to go. I love the saying on the back of their shirts "Not trying to make everyone happy, just a solid 75%".
Anyway, the hubs and I are spending time together. It's kind of weird. For so long, we've been on such different schedules, that being together is taking some getting used to. It's almost like just getting married. Seriously. For so long, you had your own schedule, and then you add someone else, and you need to learn how to adjust and share and compromise. And then you get neat surprises, like breakfast out.
One of the things I've learned with this change, is how sweet my husband is. I know, that sounds terrible to say after 21 years of marriage. Work with me, okay? I've know he is a wonderful sweet man for a long time. I wouldn't have married him otherwise. But now, I'm being reminded on a daily basis just how sweet he is. We interact with each other every day. And with all this interacting, he finds ways surprise me with little things.
We are also finding ways to laugh and joke with each other. Like today, for example. I commented that we are kind of like that Facebook meme. You know the one. The guy says he likes to hold his wife's hand at the mall. It looks so romantic, but its actually economical. She can't run off and shop.
Hey, wait a minute...... I need to go have a talk with the hubs........
Saturday, July 29, 2017
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
No, you amaze me
When I came home from work yesterday, there was a package waiting for me on my doorstep. It was from my friend who I went and visited a few weeks ago. Inside the package was 2 jars of low sugar strawberry-rhubarb jam, and a card. I must admit, I didn't find the card until after I telephoned her to thank her for the jam. I was shocked when she told me she made it. She is determined to be more like me.
After I found the card and read it, I kept thinking, are you serious? You want to be more like me? I'm so messed up! I only LOOK like I have my stuff together. I really don't. So I know how to bake bread. Big deal. Anyone can make bread if they can follow the very simple instructions in the recipe. Yes, I know how to bake cakes from scratch, and make frosting from scratch as well. Again, if you can follow simple instructions, you can do it. It's really not that hard.
She admired how I love my Saviour, husband, kids and grand kids. Is she kidding? I admire how her children talk to her. They tell her what's going on in their lives. I am amazed at how patient she is with her youngest child. She doesn't let her frustration show when the child is pushing every button. I wish I had that capability when my kids were that age. I am amazed at how grounded in her faith she is. She is strong. She has to be, she's a military wife as well. And right now her husband is deployed and has been since January. She does it all. I wish I was more like her.
Here's the thing, she now knows how much I wish I was like her. Because I know she's reading this. I told her that there would be a blog about her. I wasn't kidding. I won't mention her name, it's not for me to do. But she knows. And she knows how much I love her. Because I've told her that so many times before.
After I found the card and read it, I kept thinking, are you serious? You want to be more like me? I'm so messed up! I only LOOK like I have my stuff together. I really don't. So I know how to bake bread. Big deal. Anyone can make bread if they can follow the very simple instructions in the recipe. Yes, I know how to bake cakes from scratch, and make frosting from scratch as well. Again, if you can follow simple instructions, you can do it. It's really not that hard.
She admired how I love my Saviour, husband, kids and grand kids. Is she kidding? I admire how her children talk to her. They tell her what's going on in their lives. I am amazed at how patient she is with her youngest child. She doesn't let her frustration show when the child is pushing every button. I wish I had that capability when my kids were that age. I am amazed at how grounded in her faith she is. She is strong. She has to be, she's a military wife as well. And right now her husband is deployed and has been since January. She does it all. I wish I was more like her.
Here's the thing, she now knows how much I wish I was like her. Because I know she's reading this. I told her that there would be a blog about her. I wasn't kidding. I won't mention her name, it's not for me to do. But she knows. And she knows how much I love her. Because I've told her that so many times before.
Sunday, July 23, 2017
Everything is changing
I went to fish camp this weekend. I was so looking forward to time on the beach, standing in the water and reconnecting with God. That is not going to happen this year. Oh, I went, I stood in the water, and I tried to reconnect with God, it just wasn't the same as past years.
I know, I know, nothing ever stays the same. Everything changes. Way down deep inside, I know fish camp was bound to change. It's crowded now. People are rude. It's almost as bad as dipnetting on the Kenai. Oh, did I mention I went to Kasilof? It's where I go every year. It used to be peaceful. It used to be serene. It used to be.....fish camp.
One of my girlfriends has been there since the beginning of July. She sets up her village we call "Little Tijuana" (she's of Mexican heritage). Everything was ready to go and set up when I arrived. She even had a tent set up for me to use. The kitchen area was huge this year. I should have taken pictures. I didn't. But it wasn't the same. I missed the old fish camp.
I know, I keep complaining that nothing is the same. Honestly, I can deal with change. Really, I can. I accept change. I accept that we all grow older. I accept that change can bring good things. I just don't want to accept change when it comes to fish camp.
Oh, I'll go again next year. I'll do my best to have an open mind. I'll try to accept the change. Who knows, maybe I will change this time.
I know, I know, nothing ever stays the same. Everything changes. Way down deep inside, I know fish camp was bound to change. It's crowded now. People are rude. It's almost as bad as dipnetting on the Kenai. Oh, did I mention I went to Kasilof? It's where I go every year. It used to be peaceful. It used to be serene. It used to be.....fish camp.
One of my girlfriends has been there since the beginning of July. She sets up her village we call "Little Tijuana" (she's of Mexican heritage). Everything was ready to go and set up when I arrived. She even had a tent set up for me to use. The kitchen area was huge this year. I should have taken pictures. I didn't. But it wasn't the same. I missed the old fish camp.
I know, I keep complaining that nothing is the same. Honestly, I can deal with change. Really, I can. I accept change. I accept that we all grow older. I accept that change can bring good things. I just don't want to accept change when it comes to fish camp.
Oh, I'll go again next year. I'll do my best to have an open mind. I'll try to accept the change. Who knows, maybe I will change this time.
Monday, July 17, 2017
Jesus wants me for a zombie..........
I love the things that come out of kids mouths. My grandchildren have had some real whoppers. Take the title of this post. I have a kids Sunday School sing along CD that I played in the truck for many years. I've actually had to burn copies of it because I've worn it out and/or scratched it up. One day, several years ago, my oldest grandchild asked me to play the "Zombie" song. The conversation went something like this:
Grandchild - 'Grandma, would you please play the Zombie song?'
Me - 'What Zombie song?'
GC - 'You know Grandma, the Zombie song!"
Me - 'No, I don't know what Zombie song.'
GC - 'You know Grandma, "Jesus Wants me for a Zombie".'
Me - 'No, Jesus wants you for a SUNBEAM.
GC - 'Oh'
My two oldest granddaughters were spending the night one night. It was bath time. Now in the bathroom, my foundation undergarment was hanging up on the door handle. Granddaughter #2 and I had the following conversation:
GC - Gramma, are these your fings? (as she points to said foundation undergarment)
Me - Yes
GC - Gramma, why are your fings bigger than my mommy's fings?
Me (trying to keep a straight face) - Because I'm older than your mommy.
My youngest daughter, who is now married and has children of her own had a good one when she was in kindergarten. I wear glasses. At one point in time, I had contacts. My kids (and grandkids) know that I am blind as a bat without my glasses. On this particular day, I was walking around the house and my youngest looks up at me and asks "Mommy, are you wearing your eye tacks?" From then on, my contacts were called eye tacks.
Having said all of this, nothing that comes out of the mouths of small people should surprise me. Today, that was proven wrong. I was having a conversation with my youngest child, who has been recovering from pneumonia for the past week and a half. She proceeds to tell me that her oldest child came to her today and declared that he thinks he has leukemia. He then proceeded to explain that he is having trouble breathing like she is, and he thinks he has leukemia. She then asked if he meant pneumonia, to which he said yes. Needless to say, she took him to the doctor, who prescribed antibiotics because he did sound a little congested.
Grandchild - 'Grandma, would you please play the Zombie song?'
Me - 'What Zombie song?'
GC - 'You know Grandma, the Zombie song!"
Me - 'No, I don't know what Zombie song.'
GC - 'You know Grandma, "Jesus Wants me for a Zombie".'
Me - 'No, Jesus wants you for a SUNBEAM.
GC - 'Oh'
My two oldest granddaughters were spending the night one night. It was bath time. Now in the bathroom, my foundation undergarment was hanging up on the door handle. Granddaughter #2 and I had the following conversation:
GC - Gramma, are these your fings? (as she points to said foundation undergarment)
Me - Yes
GC - Gramma, why are your fings bigger than my mommy's fings?
Me (trying to keep a straight face) - Because I'm older than your mommy.
My youngest daughter, who is now married and has children of her own had a good one when she was in kindergarten. I wear glasses. At one point in time, I had contacts. My kids (and grandkids) know that I am blind as a bat without my glasses. On this particular day, I was walking around the house and my youngest looks up at me and asks "Mommy, are you wearing your eye tacks?" From then on, my contacts were called eye tacks.
Having said all of this, nothing that comes out of the mouths of small people should surprise me. Today, that was proven wrong. I was having a conversation with my youngest child, who has been recovering from pneumonia for the past week and a half. She proceeds to tell me that her oldest child came to her today and declared that he thinks he has leukemia. He then proceeded to explain that he is having trouble breathing like she is, and he thinks he has leukemia. She then asked if he meant pneumonia, to which he said yes. Needless to say, she took him to the doctor, who prescribed antibiotics because he did sound a little congested.
Sunday, July 16, 2017
I'm holding my tongue.....and it's slippery
I'm taking the high road, kinda sorta, right now. Okay, I'm taking the middle road right now.
I read something on Facebook just now, and I really wanted to reply and call the person on the carpet. I didn't. Oh, I feel so proud of myself, but I am also disappointed in myself as well. Part of me says "look at me, I am restraining myself. I am so wonderful." Then this little voice inside of me says, "you are no better than the Sadducees and Pharisees in the New Testament."
The worst part about this is that I see myself falling into an old pattern. This person says something, and I just want to jump in their face and tell them again how wrong they are. You see, we have history. Bad history. And the worst part about our history, is that I haven't been able to forgive. And that's wrong. So when I want to get all high and mighty, it really just hurts, because I know it's wrong.
I know I have to forgive this person. Matthew 18:35 (KJV) says this: " So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses." The problem is that honestly, I don't want to forgive. Part of me wants this person to hurt, because they inflicted so much hurt on others that I love so very much. It's a pit bull moment. (No offense to all the wonderful pit bulls out there, and their owners. It's the best analogy I can come up with.) I just don't want to let go. I want to protect my loved ones, and if I forgive, then I will forget. And if I forget, then I can't protect.
So here I am, standing at a crossroads. If I go right, it's the high road. The one that just lets everything go. If I go left, it's the low road. The one that jumps in the fracas, and makes everything worse. I don't want that road. If I go forward, I don't know which way the road is going to go. It might veer to the left, or it might veer towards the right. I don't know. I just know I need to pick one. I know which one I am definitely not going to pick, and I know which one I should pick. The problem is, can I stay on it?
I read something on Facebook just now, and I really wanted to reply and call the person on the carpet. I didn't. Oh, I feel so proud of myself, but I am also disappointed in myself as well. Part of me says "look at me, I am restraining myself. I am so wonderful." Then this little voice inside of me says, "you are no better than the Sadducees and Pharisees in the New Testament."
The worst part about this is that I see myself falling into an old pattern. This person says something, and I just want to jump in their face and tell them again how wrong they are. You see, we have history. Bad history. And the worst part about our history, is that I haven't been able to forgive. And that's wrong. So when I want to get all high and mighty, it really just hurts, because I know it's wrong.
I know I have to forgive this person. Matthew 18:35 (KJV) says this: " So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses." The problem is that honestly, I don't want to forgive. Part of me wants this person to hurt, because they inflicted so much hurt on others that I love so very much. It's a pit bull moment. (No offense to all the wonderful pit bulls out there, and their owners. It's the best analogy I can come up with.) I just don't want to let go. I want to protect my loved ones, and if I forgive, then I will forget. And if I forget, then I can't protect.
So here I am, standing at a crossroads. If I go right, it's the high road. The one that just lets everything go. If I go left, it's the low road. The one that jumps in the fracas, and makes everything worse. I don't want that road. If I go forward, I don't know which way the road is going to go. It might veer to the left, or it might veer towards the right. I don't know. I just know I need to pick one. I know which one I am definitely not going to pick, and I know which one I should pick. The problem is, can I stay on it?
Thursday, July 13, 2017
Goblins and gold and MMORPG's
I'm the wife of an up and coming internet star......
and I'm not sure how to handle it. I never, ever in a million years would have thought that my husband and his buddy would actually have an internet following. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband to death (sometimes death would be preferable, then I come to my senses), I just never thought that real people would find him as amusing and informative as he thinks he is. Seriously, they think he's funny and informative. I know this for fact, because I played a few clips from a few episodes for my best friend while I was visiting her and even she found them to be humorous. Now here's the kicker, she doesn't play MMORPG's. I actually gave her a basic tour of the game, and showed her the Goblins. So then, when we listened to a whole episode, she had a idea of what was going on, AND SHE STILL FOUND THEM FUNNY!
So when I played clips of the episodes where they discuss my most recent trip to the ER, she was laughing so hard she was crying. Now lets face it, my friends and family really think I need to be wrapped in bubble wrap and put in a sterile room because of my allergies and my ability to trip and fall over air and seriously injure myself. I am not graceful by any stretch of the means. Nor am I very coordinated. So, when I end up in the ER because I fell while trying to walk on a foot that has fallen asleep, my family just considers it par for the course. When I almost take my finger off using the Cuisinart, well, that's just plain normal for me in their books.
Now when I describe myself like this, I can assure you that my best friend can vouch for my descriptions. She has literally known me all of my life. Seriously. I have pictures of us in the playpen together. She is 3 1/2 months older than me. Our families are related by marriage. Her dad and my mother's brother's wife are brother and sister. So, yeah, we've really known each other forever. But I digress.
This week, the boys (as I lovingly call them) celebrated their one year anniversary of their podcast. In this year, they have amassed a serious following. I'm still in shock and awe. I remember the time my husband came home all excited because a podcast that he listens to actually gave them a mention. Their listenership skyrocketed. It continues to skyrocket. This blows my mind. This man, who I roll my eyes at on a daily basis, is now basically an internet sensation (or pretty darned close). People actually listen to him. They wait for the next episode to come out. How in the world did this happen?
As I sit here, and ponder all of this, I realize something. I have yet another reason to love this man. I admit that I do not always find him as funny as he finds himself, others obviously do. And he has an uncanny ability to make people laugh, at him, at me, and everyone else. The more I think about it, the more I realize that God really did know what He was doing when He crossed our paths. My husband teaches me to lighten up, and I do my best to make him behave when it is absolutely necessary. All the rest of the time, I try, but just roll my eyes.....because, well, I honestly know that he will find a reason to laugh at what I think are the most serious moments in life.
and I'm not sure how to handle it. I never, ever in a million years would have thought that my husband and his buddy would actually have an internet following. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband to death (sometimes death would be preferable, then I come to my senses), I just never thought that real people would find him as amusing and informative as he thinks he is. Seriously, they think he's funny and informative. I know this for fact, because I played a few clips from a few episodes for my best friend while I was visiting her and even she found them to be humorous. Now here's the kicker, she doesn't play MMORPG's. I actually gave her a basic tour of the game, and showed her the Goblins. So then, when we listened to a whole episode, she had a idea of what was going on, AND SHE STILL FOUND THEM FUNNY!
So when I played clips of the episodes where they discuss my most recent trip to the ER, she was laughing so hard she was crying. Now lets face it, my friends and family really think I need to be wrapped in bubble wrap and put in a sterile room because of my allergies and my ability to trip and fall over air and seriously injure myself. I am not graceful by any stretch of the means. Nor am I very coordinated. So, when I end up in the ER because I fell while trying to walk on a foot that has fallen asleep, my family just considers it par for the course. When I almost take my finger off using the Cuisinart, well, that's just plain normal for me in their books.
Now when I describe myself like this, I can assure you that my best friend can vouch for my descriptions. She has literally known me all of my life. Seriously. I have pictures of us in the playpen together. She is 3 1/2 months older than me. Our families are related by marriage. Her dad and my mother's brother's wife are brother and sister. So, yeah, we've really known each other forever. But I digress.
This week, the boys (as I lovingly call them) celebrated their one year anniversary of their podcast. In this year, they have amassed a serious following. I'm still in shock and awe. I remember the time my husband came home all excited because a podcast that he listens to actually gave them a mention. Their listenership skyrocketed. It continues to skyrocket. This blows my mind. This man, who I roll my eyes at on a daily basis, is now basically an internet sensation (or pretty darned close). People actually listen to him. They wait for the next episode to come out. How in the world did this happen?
As I sit here, and ponder all of this, I realize something. I have yet another reason to love this man. I admit that I do not always find him as funny as he finds himself, others obviously do. And he has an uncanny ability to make people laugh, at him, at me, and everyone else. The more I think about it, the more I realize that God really did know what He was doing when He crossed our paths. My husband teaches me to lighten up, and I do my best to make him behave when it is absolutely necessary. All the rest of the time, I try, but just roll my eyes.....because, well, I honestly know that he will find a reason to laugh at what I think are the most serious moments in life.
Saturday, July 8, 2017
It feels good to be home.....
Don't get me wrong, it was nice to go Outside for a week. I saw cornfields and soybean fields and cows and horses. I could smell the farmland. I heard the locusts at night and watched the lightning bugs light up.
I lived small town life for a week. Libby's Pumpkin Capital of the World small town life. There are a lot of parallels in the life of my friend and mine, but there are far more differences. We have both adapted to life away from the town we grew up in. In many ways, my friend is lucky. Her life is similar to what I remember our lives being when we were kids. The life I thought I would have when I grew up. Brick home, tree lined street, you know your neighbors type of life. Leave it to Beaver meets Petticoat Junction.
My life is more Grizzly Adams meets The Jetson's. Okay, we don't have Rosie the maid, but close enough. We hunt and fish. We process our catch ourselves. We have a food saver, pressure canner and 2 smokers (electric and charcoal). But we have technology. Our lives are built around technology (The Jetson's part of my life). Technology is how we keep in touch with the Outside. Amazon Prime is a wonderful thing when you are this far removed from "civilization".
My girlfriend is a military wife. Her husband is currently deployed. He will be home in a few weeks. Military wife fits her. She is organized. Everything is planned out. Everything is in its place. I am more fly by the seat of my pants. I'm impulsive. I want to go fishing, I pack up and go.
While I was visiting, she told me I am the Proverbs 31 wife. I thought she was kidding. I think she's the Proverbs 31 wife. We are so different, yet so much the same. Our husbands, children and grandchildren come first. Then we can make time for ourselves.
I feel like Dorothy Gale right now. At the end of the Wizard of Oz, she realized that her heart's desire is right there in her own back yard. There's no place like home.
Don't get me wrong, it was nice to go Outside for a week. I saw cornfields and soybean fields and cows and horses. I could smell the farmland. I heard the locusts at night and watched the lightning bugs light up.
I lived small town life for a week. Libby's Pumpkin Capital of the World small town life. There are a lot of parallels in the life of my friend and mine, but there are far more differences. We have both adapted to life away from the town we grew up in. In many ways, my friend is lucky. Her life is similar to what I remember our lives being when we were kids. The life I thought I would have when I grew up. Brick home, tree lined street, you know your neighbors type of life. Leave it to Beaver meets Petticoat Junction.
My life is more Grizzly Adams meets The Jetson's. Okay, we don't have Rosie the maid, but close enough. We hunt and fish. We process our catch ourselves. We have a food saver, pressure canner and 2 smokers (electric and charcoal). But we have technology. Our lives are built around technology (The Jetson's part of my life). Technology is how we keep in touch with the Outside. Amazon Prime is a wonderful thing when you are this far removed from "civilization".
My girlfriend is a military wife. Her husband is currently deployed. He will be home in a few weeks. Military wife fits her. She is organized. Everything is planned out. Everything is in its place. I am more fly by the seat of my pants. I'm impulsive. I want to go fishing, I pack up and go.
While I was visiting, she told me I am the Proverbs 31 wife. I thought she was kidding. I think she's the Proverbs 31 wife. We are so different, yet so much the same. Our husbands, children and grandchildren come first. Then we can make time for ourselves.
I feel like Dorothy Gale right now. At the end of the Wizard of Oz, she realized that her heart's desire is right there in her own back yard. There's no place like home.
Wednesday, July 5, 2017
You can't go back....
Seriously, you can't. I recently (yesterday) went back to the town I was born in. It's not home. It is really not home anymore. Honestly, it hasn't been home in a long time (almost 22 year to be exact). It will never be home again. My home, and where I am from is where I currently live and will live forever, because I'm not moving away.
The town I grew up in has changed. A lot. The it has changed so much I don't even recognize it a lot. McMansions have sprung up all over the place. It's sad. The place I remember is a quiet, Midwestern community. Teenagers went to the football games. Homecoming was a week long event full of all kinds of fun activities. There was a parade. The kind with floats made from hay wagons, chicken wire and paper napkins. There were marching bands from the high school and junior high schools. There were baton twirlers. As a child, it was magical. On Friday night, there was a football game. It was an important game, because this was the time of year all the graduates came home to celebrate. Class reunions were held during this week. And then Saturday night was the dance. The homecoming dance. The only thing more important than homecoming was prom. You were either homecoming king and queen or prom king and queen. If you were lucky, you were both.
So here I am back in this town that used to be so magical. Part of me is trying to hold on to that magic, and part of me is screaming to let me out. I got to see family that I hadn't seen in a very long time (15 years). They were all trying to do the math on how long it had been since I visited. I was able to pinpoint it. I remember it well.
My family has changed, but it is still the same. My father's wife insists on calling me by my given name. I did not throat punch her even though I wanted to. I did not correct her. It's not worth it. My baby brother kept introducing me as "my sister Cathy from Alaska". I gave him a hard time, so he switched to "my sister Cathy from Anchorage". I rolled my eyes. My father has gotten old, not just older. He's old man old. He's still active, he still works, but he's old. His attitude towards life hasn't changed. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or not. I met my niece. She's 12. She's amazing. She has her own business. She bakes cupcakes. If you know me, you know how much that means to me.
Deuteronomy 5:16 says "Honour thy father and thy mother, as the Lord thy God hath commanded thee; that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee, in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." I look back on my visit and ask myself how I am supposed to honor these people that I don't agree with. We live in different worlds. We are night and day, and again, I am day. I am a Christian, they are not. It's hard. I don't want to be a "Bible thumper" but I want them to come to know the Lord. It's hard. It's really hard. I think I did my best to honor them. I was polite. I was kind. I didn't say what was on my mind. I didn't make a scene.
I learned something that day. I learned that I don't belong there. And now, as I sit here and type this, I have so many Parables running through my mind, and my soul is at ease. It's okay. I'm okay. I. AM. OKAY.
Seriously, you can't. I recently (yesterday) went back to the town I was born in. It's not home. It is really not home anymore. Honestly, it hasn't been home in a long time (almost 22 year to be exact). It will never be home again. My home, and where I am from is where I currently live and will live forever, because I'm not moving away.
The town I grew up in has changed. A lot. The it has changed so much I don't even recognize it a lot. McMansions have sprung up all over the place. It's sad. The place I remember is a quiet, Midwestern community. Teenagers went to the football games. Homecoming was a week long event full of all kinds of fun activities. There was a parade. The kind with floats made from hay wagons, chicken wire and paper napkins. There were marching bands from the high school and junior high schools. There were baton twirlers. As a child, it was magical. On Friday night, there was a football game. It was an important game, because this was the time of year all the graduates came home to celebrate. Class reunions were held during this week. And then Saturday night was the dance. The homecoming dance. The only thing more important than homecoming was prom. You were either homecoming king and queen or prom king and queen. If you were lucky, you were both.
So here I am back in this town that used to be so magical. Part of me is trying to hold on to that magic, and part of me is screaming to let me out. I got to see family that I hadn't seen in a very long time (15 years). They were all trying to do the math on how long it had been since I visited. I was able to pinpoint it. I remember it well.
My family has changed, but it is still the same. My father's wife insists on calling me by my given name. I did not throat punch her even though I wanted to. I did not correct her. It's not worth it. My baby brother kept introducing me as "my sister Cathy from Alaska". I gave him a hard time, so he switched to "my sister Cathy from Anchorage". I rolled my eyes. My father has gotten old, not just older. He's old man old. He's still active, he still works, but he's old. His attitude towards life hasn't changed. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or not. I met my niece. She's 12. She's amazing. She has her own business. She bakes cupcakes. If you know me, you know how much that means to me.
Deuteronomy 5:16 says "Honour thy father and thy mother, as the Lord thy God hath commanded thee; that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee, in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." I look back on my visit and ask myself how I am supposed to honor these people that I don't agree with. We live in different worlds. We are night and day, and again, I am day. I am a Christian, they are not. It's hard. I don't want to be a "Bible thumper" but I want them to come to know the Lord. It's hard. It's really hard. I think I did my best to honor them. I was polite. I was kind. I didn't say what was on my mind. I didn't make a scene.
I learned something that day. I learned that I don't belong there. And now, as I sit here and type this, I have so many Parables running through my mind, and my soul is at ease. It's okay. I'm okay. I. AM. OKAY.
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