Life is not always a day at the fair.

Today, I had a flashback.  It happened in church.  I have no idea what triggered the memory.  It was completely random and came out of nowhere.  My mind went back to the day that we signed divorce papers.  The lawyer had asked if we needed to come separately.  We did not need to do that.  I drove to downtown Pensacola and I could not hold back the tears.

I knew the dreaded day was coming.  My lawyer had prepared me and I thought that I had prepared myself, but I had not.  It is one of those moments in life that you are never prepared for, no matter how much you try.  Actually, it felt much like the day that my best friend lost her husband to cancer.  He had been told that he was in stage four colon cancer 18 months earlier.  He took part in experimental treatments that gave their family more precious time.  But, all along the way, they were told that there was no cure.  The family got things in order.  They spent wonderful time together.  Friends and extended family loved them and supported them throughout the journey.  Hospice prepared my friend when the end was near.  He was suffering and everyone who loved him said their goodbyes and let him go.  However, there was still absolutely no way that Andrea was prepared for that moment he took his last breathe as she held his hand.  I arrived at her house about ten minutes after he died.  In spite of all the preparations, it was surreal.

I had that same feeling last July in the lawyer's office.  I have been very open about taking medication.  My doctor had prescribed me xanax to help with anxiety.  I want to be extremely careful in addressing this.  The medication is highly addictive.  It must be used wisely.  My doctor was very cautious and gave me a limited amount.  I know that some are strongly opposed to any type of medication to treat emotional issues.  I have often heard people say, "Well, a hundred years ago, people didn't have these drugs.  They just had to suck it up and deal with it."  To that, I say, "A hundred years ago, we didn't have high blood pressure medicine.  Does that mean we should not take it today?"  So, right, wrong or indifferent, I made the choice to use take the medication on a very limited basis to help me through the very difficult and panicky moments.  However, on this day, that did not even help.  There are times when we go to a bad place and there are no detours around it.  We have to make our way through it, as best we can.

I went to that place last July in the lawyer's office.  The more I signed and initialed,  the heavier my heart became.  I thought I was prepared.  I had probably received a dozen copies of a slight variation of this decree as the lawyers were tweaking it.  Yet, nothing prepared me for seeing those final papers and being there with the one who was supposed to be my partner for life as I signed my name to them, ending the partnership.  With each page that turned, more tears came.  We finally finished.  He hugged me and we got in our separate cars and went different ways.  That was it.  It was over.  I had held tightly to the old road map of my life, but now it was time to put it away and acquaint myself with the new one.

I went to my friend's house that day.  I was staying there alone for a few days.  I cried all the way to her house.  When I pulled into the driveway, I sat in the car a few minutes.  I got out, dried my tears, went inside and grabbed a diet coke.  I took a deep breath and sat down.  I picked up my computer and started writing my first blog.

Life is not always a day at the fair.  Some days just aren't fun.  After reading this blog, some of my dear friends will worry that I am having a bad day.  I am not.  I had a wonderful day at the beach all by myself.  I had time to think and pray about my life and where it is heading.  However, I know that I didn't just have this random memory for no reason.  I had that feeling all day that I needed to share the memory.  I know that many people right now are contemplating divorce.  As long as I have breath, I will encourage people to get in there in fight with all you have within you to save your marriage.  Whether you are married or single, rich or poor, healthy or sick, some days are just hard.  Going from one situation to another is not going to bring the unlimited source of happiness that we all so desperately long for.  There is only one source for that.  When we draw from His source, the other dry and parched areas of our lives are watered and over time can change from a parched wasteland to a lush oasis.

Jeremiah 17:7-8 (New Living Translation)

7 “But blessed are those who trust in the Lord
and have made the Lord their hope and confidence.
8 They are like trees planted along a riverbank,
with roots that reach deep into the water.
Such trees are not bothered by the heat
or worried by long months of drought.
Their leaves stay green,
and they never stop producing fruit.

If life is a highway, I guess I gotta have a car!

I am so fortunate to work with an eclectic group of individuals.  They all bring their own very interesting dynamic into my life.  We have Benji, whom might be considered a modern day C.S. Lewis.  Where would I ever be without my girlfriend, Mel.  You had better not mess with me, or you will have to deal with her.  Trust me on this, you will not win.  The one who probably gives us the greatest quotable lines is Tony.  I think he could be a refined Larry, the Cable Guy.

Yesterday, Tony told me that I needed to go car shopping.  I have a very reliable Nissan Altima that is almost paid for and I have no intention of trading that girl in.  However, I am sure you can gather that he was not talking about a literal car.  Yes, it was an analogy.  "How are you going to know what kind of car you want if you don't go test drive a few?"  That was a starting point for a great conversation.

So, what kind of cars are out there?

Sports car:  "an open, low-built, fast motor car." The term describes a class of automobile with two seats, two doors, precise handling, brisk acceleration, and sharp braking -- trading practical considerations such as passenger space, comfort, and cargo capacity."  Who doesn't love to go for a joyride with the top down and the radio blaring?  As fun as they are, I think I will pass on the sports car.  It just isn't practical.  Since most of them are two seaters, you can only take one person along with you.  There is absolutely no room for luggage.  Even a trip to the grocery store is usually out of the question, unless all you plan to buy is milk and eggs.  They look good.  They are fast and they are fun, but they can also be extremely dangerous if not handled properly.

Luxury Cars: A vehicle that provides luxury -- pleasant or desirable features beyond strict necessity -- at increased expense.  Tony says I should focus on the luxury cars.  I admit they are nice to ride.  My dear friend has a Mercedes and you feel like you are floating down the road.  I am not too sure about this one either.  First of all, they are high maintenance.  Dealers are not readily available, so often you have to send them to another town to be worked on.  In addition, they are usually so nice, that you can't just relax and have fun.  Dirty shoes, drinks and French fries are out of the question.  We have to hold our breath and keep this thing in top notch condition.  Oh, they look good and you feel good in them.  But, I want to be able to relax.  I just don't think that a luxury car is for me.

Economy Car:  A car that is designed for low cost operation.  I know that I risk looking as if I am talking out of both sides of my mouth, but economy car doesn't sound like what I am looking for either. They are not high maintenance, but at the same time, I do want to know that I can reliably make it from Point A to Point B.  I want a car with a good track record and some economy cars don't exactly hold those.

Work Truck: A vehicle that is rated at more than 8,500 and less than or equal to 10,000 pounds gross vehicle weight, and is not a medium-duty passenger vehicle.  A work truck is reliable and there to help you get the job done.  It might not be the flashiest vehicle on the block, but it can take care of business.  Tony says that a work truck might not be thrilling like a sports car, but it is multi purpose.  You can use it for work all day long.  Then you can clean it up and take it into town for a night out.  It sounds nice in theory, but I can't see myself in a work truck.

I am so confused now.  Maybe I just need to get an El Camino, half car and half truck.

Alas, I have considered all my options and I still am not really sure what I want.  I guess that is because I hadn't exactly planned on car shopping.  I was pleased with the one I had.  It suited me well.  But, it broke down and can't be fixed.

I have never wanted to be the one to make the decision when shopping for a car.  It is a major investment. I always felt like whatever I picked, I would have "buyer's remorse."  Well, my friends, the next time I purchase my proverbial car, I plan on it being the last.  I don't want there to be any remorse on my part or the car's part.  That is just not a responsibility that I am willing to take.

So, what is a gal to do?  I am going to do the best thing I know to do:  let the One who knows me best pick out my car.  He knows my deepest desires, needs and hopes.  After all, He is the One who knit me together in my mother's womb.  He knows what will fit me best, meet all my needs and give me a thrilling ride at the same time.  So, I think I will hand Him the checkbook and let Him do the shopping for me. I have no doubt that He will put me in the perfect vehicle, be it a sports car, a work truck or even an El Camino.

In the meantime, He is letting me ride with Him.  I like His car.  It is comfortable, exciting and reliable, all at the same time.   So, I will coast along in this top of the line ride until He decides to hand me the keys to my new (or at my age, I guess I should say used) car.

In the words of Rascal Flatts, "Life is a highway and I'm gonna ride it all night long."

A Time to Grieve

If my marriage had survived, I would have been married 22 years on Friday.  I wonder how long I will calculate the years.  We often do this when we have lost family members.  "Granny would have been 97 if she were still alive."  Even more disheartening, "He would have graduated from high school this year."   It just seems to be a natural thing to do when we have lost something or someone that meant so much to us.

I try to convince myself that the single life has its perks, and actually it does.  I tell my friends how nice it is to not have to answer to anyone.  I do enjoy being able to make spontaneous plans and not have to clear them with anyone. But, the reality is that I will always grieve the death of my marriage. Time makes it easier.  Many people told me this and they spoke the truth. It is like a deep wound.  Over time it heals and there is only a scar left.  With months and years, the scar even fades. Yet, it never goes away. If you look closely, you will still see it, ever so faintly.

My marriage was so ingrained into who I was and who I thought I would always be, that the "would be" anniversary will be difficult for a while.   However, the key word in that sentence is "was." It is over and I must continue to move forward. I will acknowledge the grief, but I will not to live there.  I am going to get up and work my way through the mound of laundry across the room.  I am going to put some color on these gray roots that are beginning to show.  (A good color job always makes me feel better!)  Tomorrow, I will go to the beach with two dear friends that always make me laugh.  But, first, I am going to close out this blog and give myself a few minutes to grieve.  I will not grieve alone.  I will share my cares with God.

1 Peter 5:7 (New Living Translation)
Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.

Kickingwoman settles a very old score!

I am the ghost of Kickingwoman. I was the beloved squaw who was married to the chief of our tribe, Little Turtle. I loved him, and he loved me. We lived together for just two short years, when one day some evil and despicable pirates found their way into our wonderful life. They tried to kill my Little Turtle. I told him to run and hide, and true to my name, I fought and kicked them with all my might. Little Turtle cowered in the back corner of our teepee. He wasn't a coward; he was just little!

After a long fight, I began to get tired. My kicks became slower and softer. The pirates finally wore me down. A very dashing pirate with crystal blue eyes pulled out his sword and pierced me in my heart. After raiding our teepees, they left. Thankfully, my Little Turtle was so small that they never saw him. But he was never to be the same again. He grieved Kickingwoman the rest of his days. He buried my body right outside our teepee. He planted a tree over my grave and would sit by that tree every day and grieve for me. When he grew old, the tree offered some shade to his poor, frail little body.

My body lay at rest there for many years until just a few days ago. That same tree that had provided shade to my Little Turtle and rest to my soul was cruelly taken down. My soul felt pain with every branch that was severed. Now I was in search of the one who has disturbed my eternal rest. I drifted into the room of the young one, but the spirits told me that he was not the one. Then I felt the presence of the one who once took my life. I floated toward the presence and found the room of a pirate. It was not the one who took my life, but as I hovered over the bed, he opened his eyes in his sleep. I would recognize those blue eyes anywhere. It was the great, great grandson of the pirate who ended my time with Little Turtle.  Finally, there could be vengeance for my death. At last I could settle the score and get revenge for the grief that my death caused my Little Turtle all of his days.

There was only one way to escape the retribution of Kickingwoman. There were two pure souls who helped take down the tree that my Little Turtle planted. One could make amends with my weary soul, by compensating these two untarnished beings. Through offerings to the two innocents, one could make amends for the vile act of his great, great grandfather, and my soul could once again be at rest. Otherwise, Kickingwoman could only find rest through revenge on the pirate’s descendant who took away the tree that beloved Little Turtle planted.

I believe that an offering of $1000 each will be sufficient in restitution for the heinous acts of those ancestors.  I trust that descendant will make the right decision. He does not want the ghost of Kickingwoman taking revenge on him!