Chaos in the Clutter

Most aspects of my outer life are a mess. My house is in disarray, my time is disorganized, my relationships are hit or miss, but mostly miss. I struggle daily with how cluttered my home has become. The amount of toys, paper, shoes, knick knacks, books & dog supplies strewn about my home is overwhelming. I don't know where to start. I lack the motivation to just do something. I have spent over $1000 on professional organization, but didn't come out with a plan. When I am out working, I think about how crazy it is in my home, and I'd rather stay out working. My husband will suggest that we rent a movie, and I will think - and sit in this clutter to watch TV? My daughter, husband and brother almost don't seem to see all that is out of place - unless they step on something, or can't find something. My daughter was watching one of those hoarder shows, and she turned to me and exclaimed, "Our house isn't like that! You always say we live in a hoarder house, but it isn't like that!" To me it is like that. I grew up in a very neat home. My mother would put our school books in the trash if we left them on the dining room table. We kept all our possessions in our rooms, and every once in awhile we had to clean up our rooms or lose privileges. I don't remember feeling stressed as a kid - it was comfortable for me to have everything in its place. Even today, my parents' home always looks ready for a real estate showing. Occasionally I hire someone to clean our house. My family complains they can't find anything then, but when I walk in after the cleaning; I feel calm and relaxed. The clutter is chaos to me, and I need order to settle my mind, and be comfortable in my skin.

Is This The Last Summer That She'll Be Little?

My daughter graduated from preschool recently. When she started at Little Folk Farm she was 2 1/2 and went in wearing a Pull-up. She attended preschool for 3 years and I never thought it would end. I never really looked beyond dropping her off and picking her up at preschool. I thought the colors and shapes and numbers and letters and circle time would go on forever. Watching her graduate from preschool creates visions in my mind of a tween, an adolescent, a teen and a woman; all with red hair and blue eyes. I struggle to keep the vision as a happy daughter that always thinks I am someone to be proud of as her Mum. I know she thinks the world of me now. She thinks I am perfect, and for her I want to be so. I fear a vision of a surly, pierced, tattooed, defiant, teen that only wants to be with her friends. It hurts to think she might stop talking to me, that she might think I am an embarrassment to her, that she might come home and go right into her room every day. I worry that she won't listen to me or even want to hear my voice. I remember being a teenager.
This summer I have been lucky to arrange my work so that I can spend everyday with Charlotte. I take her with me pet sitting, shopping, on errands and visits. We can be together all day and I never tire of her company. She is a happy little daisy in my day, eager to come along, always asking, "What's next Mama? What are we doing now?" We talk and plan the day together. I have always wanted to be with my daughter full time, but I had to put her in day care at 5 months old. Everyday since then I have worked somewhere and struggled with the pain of leaving her with someone else. I spent all the days thinking about her and missing her company. I would look at the clock and think about what she might be doing at that moment. Sometimes I would pick her up from preschool and she would have a cut or a scrape or a bruise. She would tell me that she cried when she was hurt, and I would feel an overwhelming pain wash over me knowing that she needed me and I wasn't there.
So here we go this summer together finally. I savor each day and try to slow it down...because I know September will come, and she will never be 5 years old in the summer again.

Dad

Yesterday I spent the day with my mother. We waited together at home while my father was undergoing surgery to remove a cancerous kidney. The day was difficult in many ways, but I felt strength from being a family that loves each other so much. My mother was a rock all day, faltering only after the surgeon called to say the operation went smoothly. She worries that she will upset her grown children if she cries, meanwhile her grown children are worrying about her anyway. My brother John did what I think was the hardest part, he brought my parents in to the hospital at 5:15am, and then said goodbye to our Dad, and took my Mum to breakfast. Later, on the phone, John said that leaving Dad was tough. I told him I didn’t know if I could have done it. My brother Dave came in to the hospital for the afternoon. He is big guy, but just such a quiet, gentle presence. His part was to wait and just be there, which he does without complaint. It was nice to spend a little time with my brother, just getting an ice coffee, and sitting in the solarium reading magazines, commenting on the articles. When my father was taken from recovery to his room, we were all there, anxious just to see his face. He was extremely groggy, and really suffering with the pain. It is so hard to see him like that, and wish someone could do something, but for now he has to bear the pain alone. Watching my mother wiping her husband’s brow and telling him over and over that everything is ok was mesmerizing. I look at them connected like that and think of how they have been together for 50 years. I think of all the life they have experienced together and I sit in awe of their commitment. Even at 45 years old, I can look at my father and feel like a little girl. It is scary to see him in agony and incapacitated. Deep in my mind I am thinking, he couldn’t take care of me now if I needed him, and it’s a thought I have to squelch. My Dad hasn’t had to take care of me for well over 25 years, but apparently I have always found comfort in knowing I could turn to him anytime. In my heart I just want to take care of him, and ease his misery today. As he grows older, I feel more and more protective of him. As I grow older, and gradually realize what is most important in this life; my father becomes more and more perfect in my eyes.

Blue Heron

As I walked along this morning; a Blue Heron flew over my path. I walk alone & without music, so all I have is my thoughts. Several times in my life, when I have been in pain, or just feeling down; I see a Blue Heron. There is something about the regal position they hold as they fly, and the glow of peace as they glide, that commands my complete attention for the moment. I became interested in this bird over 10 years ago when I was vacationing on the cape. I rented a tiny guest house on a beautiful marsh leading out to the beach. I spent alot of my time on the deck with my binoculars, marveling at the wildlife. There was a Blue Heron living in that marsh, and for the week, I followed his life like it was a soap opera. I have always enjoyed seeing new birds and looking them up in my field guide, but this bird was fascinating to me. Ever since then, a Blue Heron has appeared whenever I need some hope. One time in particular I remember really suffering over the loss of my dearly loved Akita, and I looked up and saw the Blue Heron. For that moment I felt the grief's grip on my heart ease a little. I have started to wonder if it is always the same bird, or different ones. Either way, I see it as a sign from God, that one day, everything with be alright. That thought alone, makes me relax, and trust.

So Get Going Already

For many weeks now, I have been telling myself that I will get up at 5:00am and go out for a walk. Every morning something got in the way. Believe me, I was up at that time, but maybe so was Charlotte. She always wants to come on the walk. Now sometimes I walk with her in the afternoons, but it is a test in patience. She Queens the stroller, asking for more juice, more popcorn, a blanket on, a blanket off, the seat reclined, the seat up and on and on. I stop over and over to take care of her. Then there are the endless questions, like, 'Why are we on this side? Why did you say hi to that girl? Can I pat the squirrel? Can we go back? In the end, my heart rate never goes up. I am pushing a stroller, and going for a stroll.

20 years ago I was living in the same neighborhood that we are now. I had quit smoking and gained weight. Early in the mornings, I would get on my new bike, and back into shape. It seems so curious to me that I now find myself in the same situation, in the same neighborhood. I still have that bike, many tune-ups and a baby seat later. I think about the places I would ride to around Natick way back when. I can't believe I will probably being doing a very similar route soon.

This morning Charlotte woke at 4:00am with a bloody nose. By 4:22 she was cleaned up and back asleep. I sat in the "Story Chair" in her room and looked at her sleeping, and at the clock, and back at her angelic face. Well, I thought, I am up and she is asleep. Time to start. I snuck downstairs to put my little dogs out. They weren't even waiting for me. Greta looked surprised and Chico was still all warm in the dog bed. They didn't even bark outside.

So this morning I set out on my first walk of this new routine. I have missed being outside so early. My father has always said that the morning is the best part of the day. I agree.

In The Moment

Since I was a kid, I have always loved Memorial Day weekend. It marks the beginning of my absolute favorite season; SUMMER! For me there is nothing better than a really hot day, the bright blue sky and brilliant green of the maple trees. Sometimes when we are deep in the winter, I will look at a picture taken in the summer, and marvel at how beautiful the landscape looks. I will then ponder; did we ever really go outside without a coat? It’s amazing to me how in the moment we can all be. Have you ever seen how pitiful a sick dog can look? It’s because the dog thinks that this is how he will always feel forever. I read a sobering statistic that teens often commit suicide because with their lack of life experience, they think that the way they feel today, will be the way they always feel. There have been so many excellent analogies written of how life changes, that I won’t try to write a better one, but I do see that often what matters so much today, fades tomorrow. My little girl looked up at me this morning and said, “Yesterday I was little, but today I am a big girl.” She’s right in a way, but being a kid is a moment to hold on to as long as you can.

She's Closer To Ready

Each morning at preschool, dropping off Charlotte can be hard on both of us. Some mornings she bounces into the classroom with a smile and a story for the teacher. Other mornings she sits in her car seat and earnestly tells me that her belly aches. I often dream of keeping her in the car and driving to the beach. When I was a kid, I thought grownups could do anything they wanted. Now as an adult I see how unfettered children really are.

With the nice weather floating in, the preschoolers run around in the play yard before class begins. Charlotte & I have adopted a new routine to make goodbye a little easier. I bring her into the school, hug & kiss her, and tell her I'll wait by the fence to wave when she comes out to the playground. Today I sat in my car and watched for the kids to burst out the door and pour onto the playground. Here they come and I see a flash of red hair...Charlotte races to the fence, and falls hard..I mean so hard that there is sand on her nose. She jumps up and hooks her fingers on the chain link, her eyes hard on me. I lean out of the car and say over and over, are you ok? are you ok? She says, yes, yes, yes Mom. I think about climbing that fence, but something in her look stops me. She rubs her knees and keeps looking at me. I tell her I love her and she keeps rubbing her knees. I want to go to her, but she says, "Ok Mom, you can go now."

I drive away with tears in my eyes, and wonder if it will always be this hard for me. Yes, it will always be this hard, but she is closer to ready.