The Month in Review, So Far
Remember the scene in Anchorman, where Ron Burgundy is "trapped in a glass box of emotionnnnnsssss!!" Well, that is me this month. I have been rendered incapable of blogging with any enthusiasm because all of my energy is going into things that I cannot blog about. Plus, my company has blocked access to Blogspot, and since I spend my life at the office, it is now impossible to visit this site or many of yours, even on my own time, except on my personal computer.
Nevertheless, I am alive.
We have closed on our boat, s/v Dancing Queen, aka Sophia, aka Fernando, aka The Deep End, aka Schedule C, aka Certified. So, some of the stress surrounds the logistics of finding a slip, insuring, repairing and finding time to spend with her/him/it. And related to that is a much bigger stresser that is weighing heavily on my mind day and night. It involves severing a certain umbilical cord and I am finding it very difficult to muster up the courage to do that (although I committed to my husband that I would do so last week). I've worked hard to get to where I am, but more importantly, I am where I am due to fortunate circumstances beyond my control that aren't likely to repeat in my lifetime. So while I've got one eye on a completely different and exciting future, I'm having a hard time pulling the other eye off of the financially secure but very stressful past. Enough said about that. This is a very painful reminder of just how strong is my compulsion to be self-reliant and it is testing my faith.
Meanwhile, our 18-year old is also testing our faith. She moved out almost as soon as she turned 18 and her singular goal seems to be to prove to us once and for all that she is finally 18 and can "do anything she wants." The details are not pretty. The path she is on is not the path we would have chosen for her, and we pray that God points the way for her in short order. We do realize that we are not the authors of her life, but that does not ease the burden of wanting to help someone who does not want to help herself enjoy a better life.
Stressful too was the October 15th tax deadline. And three ugly IRS exams just now getting underway. Blah, blah, blah.
A highlight of the month was attending a grand opening Gala for this museum that my brother helped with, architecturally. He was also in attendance and I got the full tour of both architectural details and artwork in this fabulous contemporary art museum.
Before that, the highlight of the month was an all day family reunion/annual business meeting in the town I grew up in, where my ancestors helped build the town that is now Manhattan, Kansas. Our namesake still hangs on the old theatre in town:
Nevertheless, I am alive.
We have closed on our boat, s/v Dancing Queen, aka Sophia, aka Fernando, aka The Deep End, aka Schedule C, aka Certified. So, some of the stress surrounds the logistics of finding a slip, insuring, repairing and finding time to spend with her/him/it. And related to that is a much bigger stresser that is weighing heavily on my mind day and night. It involves severing a certain umbilical cord and I am finding it very difficult to muster up the courage to do that (although I committed to my husband that I would do so last week). I've worked hard to get to where I am, but more importantly, I am where I am due to fortunate circumstances beyond my control that aren't likely to repeat in my lifetime. So while I've got one eye on a completely different and exciting future, I'm having a hard time pulling the other eye off of the financially secure but very stressful past. Enough said about that. This is a very painful reminder of just how strong is my compulsion to be self-reliant and it is testing my faith.
Meanwhile, our 18-year old is also testing our faith. She moved out almost as soon as she turned 18 and her singular goal seems to be to prove to us once and for all that she is finally 18 and can "do anything she wants." The details are not pretty. The path she is on is not the path we would have chosen for her, and we pray that God points the way for her in short order. We do realize that we are not the authors of her life, but that does not ease the burden of wanting to help someone who does not want to help herself enjoy a better life.
Stressful too was the October 15th tax deadline. And three ugly IRS exams just now getting underway. Blah, blah, blah.
A highlight of the month was attending a grand opening Gala for this museum that my brother helped with, architecturally. He was also in attendance and I got the full tour of both architectural details and artwork in this fabulous contemporary art museum.
Before that, the highlight of the month was an all day family reunion/annual business meeting in the town I grew up in, where my ancestors helped build the town that is now Manhattan, Kansas. Our namesake still hangs on the old theatre in town:
Wareham Theatre
Another notable sign...my husband and I re-painted this sign in downtown Kansas City (he painted the left; I painted the right...nice, huh? I'll refrain from posting the "before" picture which illustrated much more botanically correct greenery surrounding the lettering):
And to add a little levity to my month, I'm sure, my Dad surprised me with these photos in my email box this week, from an era that is not very well documented in photographs, for good reason. After I finished laughing, I was reminded that a) I have gained an awful lot of weight since I quit swimming 2+ hours a day; b) I have never had a clue what to do with my hair; c) it's no wonder I never went to Prom; d) much as I hate to admit it, I have aged a bit since then; and e) I really do miss those overalls.
Farrah Hair
Sweet 16 (seriously, I know)
That's all for now. Peace to you all and thanks to those of you who have continued stopping by even when there is nothing to share and thanks also to those of you who have expressed concern for my well being. I am here and generally, life is good, but there's a funk in the air. This too shall pass.
posted by Gwynne @ 12:22 AM
7 Comments:
Gwynne, glad you're alive and kicking. Will pray for your 18 year old and that life just generally settles down a tad for you! The photos were fun...and who needs botanically correct greenery?
Don't forget - He knew her even before he put her in her mother's womb...and His plans for her are "yeah" and "amen."
The release is hard on the parents. Elder Son is 26...and I'm still having to "release". But now, I do way better than I did before...
Be encouraged..His hand is upon her, and ...He. Loves. Her.
And y'all.
So many changes; such a short time for these changes to be absorbed.
Gwynne, just remember that the best part of your profession is that it's so portable. You've got everything you need inside of your head and all you physically need is that one magic pen that you use to put your final signature on. As long as your dues and memberships are all paid up, you can access all of your professional world through any computer, right?
Your "trade" is as portable as a carpenter's. And who wouldn't want to be a...."carpenter"?!
You know who I thought of as soon as I saw those photos? Drew Barrymore! Seriously. And if you never went to the prom, it's simply more evidence that boys don't have a lick of sense at that age.
The rest of the stuff you're dealing with? Blech. Tomorrow's my wife's last day at a job she had grown to love, not because of the work, but because of the people. But things change, and she's having to deal with it. I hurt for her, and for you. But God works in amazing ways, and His purposes are redemptive.
And 18 years olds the world over have apparently pledged their lives to the singular goal of increasing the gray hairs in their mothers' heads, or decreasing the hair count in their dads', or both. Amazingly, none of US were ever worrisome to OUR folks, huh?
Hang in there.
I've been praying and will continue to do so. Btw, the comment is delayed because I couldn't post it when I originally saw the post!
Thank you all for your prayers, helpful reminders and good wishes. They mean a lot to me. :-)
Sounds like you're at a crossroads in your life. As another clinger-to-security, I can empathize with the desire to play it safe at the possible expense of new and exciting experiences. I'll send up a few extra prayers on your behalf.
Post a Comment
<< Home