An Anthem

For weeks, this has been sitting in my heart...this post that's been forming in my head and words finding their way together until I could sit and write them down. The last few weeks have been hectic...Jamie has wisely observed that I've over-committed myself and am likely going to wear myself out. He may be right, but all of these commitments are important to me. I find myself having to take time to take a breath, no matter the chaos, so that I keep my mind clear and focused and so that the emotion that is always close to the surface doesn't spill over. But, for weeks now, there has been something sitting in my heart...something I think I can finally put words to.

There is a song out on the radio right now by a band called "The Script." The song is called "For the First Time." You have likely heard it if you listen to any radio station that plays current Top 40 hits...but you may not have listened to it. Because if you have listened to it, you would likely have heard what I've heard. Hope. An anthem for today.

The lyrics go something like this:
"Trying to make it work but man these times are hard,

She needs me now but I can't seem to find a time,
I've got a new job now on the unemployment line,
And we don't know how,
How we got into this mess
is it God's test,
Someone help us 'cause we're doing our best,

Trying to make it work but man these times are hard

But we're gonna start by
Drinking old cheap bottles of wine,
Sit talking up all night,
Saying things we haven't for a while,
A while ya
We're smiling but we're close to tears,
Even after all these years,
We just now got the feeling that we're meeting for the first time."

This is basically the chorus of the song. But here's why this songs speaks to me...I think of me and Jamie, and I think about his sister, Gina, and her family. Not because any of us are destitute. We've all been pretty smart about making financial decisions and are holding our own, despite the worst economy since my grandparents were small children. But, man, does it sometimes feel incredibly hard to keep believing that this will get better. And not just the economy, but the overall feeling that this society that we live in is going in the wrong direction. I'm almost relieved to see all of the protesters in Wisconsin because it gives me a little bit of hope that people aren't willing to just continually be steamrolled by the decision-makers around them.

I didn't write this to make it political...I wrote it because the lyrics make me hopeful, despite all of the darkness and the sorrow and the struggle. Gina, Jamie, Dave (Gina's husband) and I have had occasion recently to just sit and talk a couple of times...late into the night, helped out by "cheap bottles of wine" (and beer). And we've talked about life...about all the things we hope for and all of those thoughts and wishes that get discussed, often late at night after four kids are settled into bed (for Gina and Dave) or late at night after everyone is home from work or class (for me and Jamie). Those late nights when life, ever rushing ahead, finally for a moment seems to slow down long enough where you look at each other and your disaster of a house around you and realize, "I have enough." Every single time I hear this song, I think about Gina and Dave and I think about my own life, and I think about my parents 30 years ago - finding time in the midst of life - to re-evaluate. Ultimately, what that song is saying and what I have realized is "I have enough."

Outside of winning the lottery, I don't think any of us will EVER feel like we have enough money. Bills will always come, loans will always be due, food will always have to be bought. Dishes will still pile up in the sink, we'll always be behind on laundry and we'll probably always feel like our house is too small. The car will still break down, the house will still need work, and we will forever have piles of mail and paperwork cluttering our house. But...I look across the room at Jamie, and I know in my heart that I have enough because I have what matters. What matters is never going to change, no matter what society says or how it goes in the legislature this week...regardless of what bills get passed or what budget gets approved, we are going to be okay. And from talking to Gina, I know that she and Dave have shared some of the same sentiments...times are very hard right now. Economically, most of us are struggling in some way or another...and many of us are questioning how we got here.

"For the First Time" feels to me like an anthem...a reminder that what matters is about who's sitting across the table from me sharing that cheap bottle of wine. Some of my favorite moments recently have been sitting with my husband, sister-in-law and her husband, laughing, playing with Transformers, eating cheese and crackers that we dug out of the refrigerator, and drinking a cheap bottle of wine. Because at the end of the day, those moments, that conversation, those heartfelt emotions that come are worth more than any paycheck. The moment that my nephew launched himself off my lap to grab a snack...the picture my niece drew, the smile my nephew gave us, the new babies friends and family have welcomed...those are the things that we will cherish in 30 years. Money will come and go...sometimes we'll have more and sometimes we'll have less. But this song...it has reminded me that sometimes when times are hard, it serves a purpose. It makes us sit down, look at each other, take stock, and remember that no matter how hard it gets, it will be okay because tonight I'm sharing a cheap bottle of wine - with "you."

Here's to you and those that matter most...

Erica

Failure

I was just sitting down at our home computer to print something off for Jamie...a Groupon (love Groupon!) for a nearby shoe store so that he can buy himself a new pair of Birkenstocks and not spend an arm and a leg. My husband has a bit of a love-affair with Birkenstocks...he owns four pairs of shoes...dress shoes, work boots, tennis shoes, and Birkenstocks. And he wears those Birks ALL the time...anywhere, any weather. We got nine inches of snow last weekend and he wore the Birks! While I was digging around for something that would keep snow out of my shoes and off my already freezing feet, he slipped on his Birkenstocks. Admittedly, they are incredibly comfortable. In fact, after wearing heeled boots today, my Birks will be the shoe of choice tomorrow...and I will arrange my outfit around getting to wear those Birks.

I digress...I sat down to print this Groupon off for Jamie - and the printer crapped out. Full-on, 100% beyond fixable, I'm fairly certain. I flipped through the manual and found the error message this piece of technology was giving me and discovered...I needed to call the company. Which I then discovered they only want you to do if your printer is still under warranty, which I know this one is not. Finally, fed up, I went to Wal-Mart's website where I found several printers that we can afford and will do what we need...cheaper than probably fixing the one we own. And probably a lot faster. And wireless. Decision made...new printer it is. Trip to Wal-Mart on the errand list for this week. Check...

I sat down to write about what is in my heart (and then, summarily, was distracted by the printer debacle.) I had a day today...and day I had to consciously begin by reminding myself not to take my frazzled, disorganized, sleep-deprived self out on the 10-year olds around me. My students walk in my door at 8:40 a.m. I arrived to school at approximately 8:33 a.m. Just enough time to pee, put my lunch away, run to my mailbox and take a breath. And then the day began...twenty-something little people that needed something. Twenty-something little people that haven't been in school since last Wednesday, thanks to those previously mentioned 9-inches of snow! Twenty-something little people that simply need to be loved and taught and embraced...and today, it was hard at moments. I am stressed about work, stressed about upcoming work issues, and stressed about life. When did my life - our life - become so abnormal?

I remember telling my doctor once, at an annual exam, that I was "normal, boring, and average...always have been." I soon ate my words...I got pregnant with Faith and we went from "normal, boring, and average" to anything but. And it's not like we're new to being the anomaly...after all, Jamie had colon cancer at 28-years old. We have seriously spent a great deal of time looking at each other, asking, "What did we do? What have we done? When is it our turn?"

I have recently discovered an author by the name of Terri Blackstock. She is a Christian author that writes mystery/suspense novels. These books have done more to fill my mind with questions and wonder and thought than any in a very long time. They are wonderful stories, suspenseful and with wonderful characters, and she uses Christian principles and scripture as part of the story. I have cried through some of the stories and wept at my own heartache that weaves in her stories (really - on one occasion I had to stop reading and go back later because I was crying so hard I couldn't read the words on the page.) One of the things I've most taken away from these books is that sometimes the world around us, the failures we see and live through, are impossible to understand. She doesn't wax poetic about living a Godly life...she doesn't write characters that live without question or live perfectly. They just keep trying. She writes stories in which terrible things happen...and the people around it must cope and try to live a human life when they have a greater belief. I have taken so much from those characters...that being Christian and believing in God doesn't mean doing so perfectly or without question.

I will never understand why my child had to die...or why my husband had to have cancer...or shy my mother had breast cancer...or why Alzheimer's robs so many...or why so many deserving people struggle to have children...while others want for nothing. I don't pretend not to struggle with my own beliefs sometimes or question the "why" and wait for an answer I know that I will not get in this lifetime. My brain knows I won't get an answer that will satisfy me...because there isn't one that will. My brain understands this. My heart has a much more difficult time because, after all, I am human. I am a daughter, a sister, a friend, a teacher, a mother, a wife, a reader, a writer, an aunt. I am...an exhausted and imperfect human being. I am, like most out there, trying to understand things I cannot possibly grasp. I won't pretend that I'm going to stop...because I won't. I will still search for answers and for the reasons, even when I know I won't find them. Maybe that's insanity...but I also believe that as long as I keep on trying, I just may find out something I didn't know before. Like a treasure hunt, I'm discovering that one clue leads to another clue, that leads to another clue...and so on. It is life...up and down, hard at times. I just pray that I can keep finding a way to start going up the next hill...each and every time I see a new one.

Erica

Yesterday I was out, running errands, standing in line at the grocery store when a voice called my name. I looked up to see an old friend...a friend I went to college with and had not seen since I was pregnant with Faith. We ran into each other at the grocery store, then, too. Thanks to the technology of Facebook, she knew much of our story with Faith, but she didn't know all the details.

So there, in the checkout line at Schnucks, she said to me, "How are you? I think about you all the time and I always mean to call you or write you, but I'm terrible at communicating. I want to know what happened with Faith...I've only caught pieces...will you tell me? Will you talk to me?" Well...that was the gist of it.

Now, maybe this sounds as though she was being a busybody, but I didn't feel that way. Admittedly, I was caught a little off guard, as I stood reading "Soap Opera Digest," waiting to buy coffee and bananas. But, once I got by bearings, I was glad she asked. She quickly said, "It's okay if you don't want to talk...I just think of you so often and just want to know how you are." I assured her it was okay with me to talk, but asked, "Can I get out of line first?" We both laughed, I paid for my groceries, and we took a seat on a bench at the end of the checkout line.

For the next hour (no, I'm not kidding), we caught up. I'm sure the cashiers and baggers thought we were crazy...after all, who sits on a bench in the grocery store for over an hour, chatting like two long-lost friends, while our groceries sat in the cart in front of us? I talked about Faith...I told our story. We shared notes on some common experiences we've had and laughed about common frustrations. We giggled over our husbands who seem to have a lot in common, including their "survivalist/prepare for anything" ways - we laughed at some of the supplies we have in our house for just such an occurence. And as I sat with this old friend, I remembered why we'd been such good friends at one time in our lives. I'm not really sure why we didn't stay in touch...life, I guess. She went her way, I went mine...life got busy and it just happened. But, it was fun to see her again and talk. She hasn't changed...she still talks a mile a minute, but it was kind of nostalgic to sit with her. It made me want to keep up with her a little more frequently.

So, to this friend...I hope that we can make time to see each other more than just an occasional occurrence at the grocery store. Thank you for asking about Faith...thank you for being you and not worrying that what you might say could be awkward (a problem, I assure you, she never had)...thank you for being direct and compassionate and letting me talk about my beautiful daughter. Thanks for sharing stories of the crazies...for laughing and letting me ramble on a bit too long at times. Thank you for reminding me why we were friends, and why I'd like to be better about keeping in touch from now on.

Who knew a trip for coffee and bananas could end up reminding me of a great friend?

Erica

Just a Car

It is, after all, just a car.

My sweet, red 2001 Mazda Protege is no more. It officially has a new owner, sold this morning after some new problems became apparent that were out of our financial and emotional capacity to try and fix. So, in the last 48 hours I went from hoping we'd be able to CPR the "little car that could" once more to mourning the loss of my little car. The "go-cart." The "saki runner." "Betty-Lou." All our nicknames for my very first car that I ever bought. Ten years old and 160,00 miles. And rationally, I do know that it's JUST a car. But in my heart, I miss that little car, and I admit that I shed a few tears over losing it. Because in my heart, it wasn't just a car, but it was full of memories and my life over the last ten years.

It was the first car I ever bought. It had a sunroof, and I loved that sunroof!

Tracy and I drove to Colorado and through the mountains in that car.

Jamie and I drove to the old Busch Stadium for our first date in that car.

I've been stuck in traffic in that car more times than I care to count...once on the interstate between here and my parents' house in Ohio that had me turn off the engine and read a book for awhile!

That was the car that I brought Jamie home from the hospital in after his colon surgery five years ago. It was the car that drove us to tell his dad that Jamie had cancer.

That car took us to the hospital where we had Faith...and back home when we came home without her.

I've replaced the tires, the brakes, even the driver's side window (and many, many more parts) multiple times. There were stains on the seats and on the floormats, most of which I couldn't tell you the source of and a crack in the windshield that's probably been there for seven plus years. The front quarter panel had a dent from a fender bender two years ago. The #3 radio station preset button has been missing for years and the keyless entry on the driver's side door broke some time back.

Nonetheless...I loved that car.

I loved all that it held...the memories, the way the seat fit me just right...the way the car felt like mine and mine alone. I fit in the seat "just so" and was most comfortable zipping around town in that - despite the miles and it's imperfections. It just holds so much of my history and so many memories. Jamie reminds me that we'll have other cars that will hold new memories, and I know he's right. I know it was the right thing to sell that poor little car and let it go. Yet, I can't help feeling like I've lost a good friend - one that was unconditionally there and available, no questions asked, who's seen and done everything with me for most of my adult life. I have laughed in that car, cried in that car, maybe even napped a time or two in that car. My brain knows it was the right thing and truly, the best thing, to do. My heart will get there eventually.

It is, after all, just a car. Or not...

Erica

A morning run

I hope this finds all of you rested from Christmas. For the first time in years, we had a genuine white Christmas. Several inches fell on Christmas Eve and we had a beautiful white layer covering everything when we woke up on Christmas morning. It was, as Jamie said, the "perfect recipe...clean roads, but snow covering everything else!" We spent the day with Jamie's family and enjoyed the cacophony brought by our young niece and nephews who couldn't contain their excitement at Santa's (and grandma's and grandpa's) generosity. It was a pretty perfect way to spend the day. Our house is now a wreck, but it's a nice kind of disaster...one brought on by plenty of joy and celebration.

Laundry is going and I'm relaxing on the couch, watching an old Disney classic, "Swiss Family Robinson." I awoke at a very early hour this morning to go join in the Frostbite Series - a 5-race series held in Forest Park throughout the winter here in St. Louis. Now, I registered for this about a month ago and thought it sounded like a great way to keep myself motivated at running through the winter months. However, when I woke up this morning before 7:00 a.m. and found that the windchill was 12 degrees, I started rethinking that position. But, I got my butt out of bed and called Tracy, a dear friend who had also signed up for this madness, to make sure she was up and going. We headed out, and I am proud to say that I successfully ran 2 miles and finished the course in 25 minutes!

Now, I know that to some out there, this might be laughable...after all, 2 miles is not all that far and a 12-minute mile is not exactly a record-setting pace. But - for me - I accomplished something I've never done before. I found myself incredibly proud of completing the race at my intended pace and running the whole thing.

I have never been much of a runner. I played soccer when I was younger and through high school, but as I've gotten older, I've found running to be something I didn't think I could really do. My body didn't care for it, it hurt all the "softer" parts of my body that jiggled when I ran, and my feet practically screamed when I tried. Well, with losing weight as a goal in mind and Tracy encouraging me to start small with running 1/4 mile at a time, I have worked my way up to what I accomplished today. (A good pair of well-fitting running shoes has helped, too.) I have found a new respect for my body and a new pride in working my way up to a goal I had set. Turns out, I can run. I don't see myself as a marathoner, but I can see 5Ks in my future.

For now, I'm going to enjoy the rest of this beautiful day on my couch. I see a good Danielle Steele book, a Rams game, and leftovers in our near future. Merry Christmas! Hope you get to enjoy your day, too.

Erica

Snow Day

If you are a teacher, you will understand the joy I felt at 5:49 a.m. today when my phone rang...yes, a snow day was called. Except to call it an "ice day" would have been more appropriate. After hardly any precipitation actually falling, but doing so at the perfect temperatures onto already frozen ground, we were treated to our first ice storm of the year. A very thin glaze was left on everything...the sidewalks, the driveways, the roads, the cars. It was treacherous to say the least, and a snow day was very much called for this morning.

So, today I set about using the time. We grocery shopped (so, apparently, did everyone else) at the local store that about once a month has their $10 off $50 offer. We ran back out to get a forgotten ingredient when I started baking snickerdoodle cookies, and I have quite happily spent the last several hours baking and cooking and feeling like I am actually getting something accomplished. It is truly amazing what can get done when I don't have to go to work!

I am just about done wrapping presents...and Jamie is at Walgreens getting more tape so that I can finish. Dinner is cooking, and finishing up some school stuff is last on my list for the day. I feel rested and less stressed than I have in weeks. Now - if only I could figure out how to pick the winning lottery numbers and do this EVERY day! Happy Snow Day to all!

Erica

This Time of Year

We've had a very nice weekend...and one that felt very deserved after a hard few weeks recently. We were in Hermann for the weekend at a fundraising event for the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society that we attend every year. We wandered through the streets of Hermann yesterday and made it home before the temperature really started to drop. We went out to dinner on Main Street and drove through the beautifully lit trees...and I finally, finally felt like I was okay with Christmas being here.

I have not been myself lately...I don't feel like myself and I just generally feel like I'm in a huge funk. I am short-tempered and snippy with my students at school and with Jamie at home. I feel as though I have absolutely no patience with anyone or anything, and I can literally count on one hand the number of people that have NOT worn my nerves thin recently. I don't want anything to do with anyone...I feel as though I am hanging on by a thread.



Now, "normal" people will remind me that it's December and the holidays can be stressful...particularly when you spend 8 hours a day with 10-year olds. : ) What a joy...but in my mind, I genuinely feel like it's more that just that. I know it in my soul. What I feel isn't "normal" stress...it's my life.


Last weekend, I began crying - seriously crying - out of the clear blue, for no apparent reason. Jamie just stared at me, bewildered, because it was literally brought on by nothing obvious. When I was finally able to blubber out something about, "I don't know what's wrong with me," his response was so wise..."Erica, did you think the wound would ever heal?" Ahh...sigh...



And, duh. What's "wrong" with me isn't actually wrong...it's our new normal. It's realizing that another holiday is upon us without Faith...that my Christmas tree is without gifts for her and no one is asking me what size clothes she's in this year, (though a couple of friends have remembered her and asked what they could do to honor her, which we greatly appreciate.) It's just the emotion of the time of year, all tied up in one. It's putting ornaments on the tree, knowing full-well that those ornaments on the bottom branches shouldn't be there because we should be trying to figure out how to keep a 16-month old from grabbing onto them and breaking them. It's sadly knowing that everything we have of our daughter fits in a beautiful, hand-made cedar trunk my dad made for us for her birthday. I'm grateful for the trunk and for the few items we have - but I'm still sad that I'm not tripping on toys and wishing that my toddler would just sit still. All the normal things that parents are frustrated by - see...we would give anything for those moments. I would give anything for the smiles, the laughs, even the frustrations that I know are normal. I know we cannot have them with Faith. But there is something about this time of the year that makes it seem ever more emotional and the hole in our hearts just a little bit more raw.

This is not an easy time of year...before Faith, I never really understood why people felt so much stress around the holidays. Yes, there was a lot to get done, but my nice, normal, "Norman Rockwell" family meant that I lived a pretty stress-free life at the holidays. Now, it's different.

Now, I struggle with whether or not to send out Christmas cards this year, because I just don't really know what to say. I avoid parties and social things because they require more energy than I have. And when I go, I plan strategically and make sure I have "buffers" (a.k.a. good friends) around so that I don't actually have to mingle with or talk to new people. New people means conversation and questions I just don't have the energy for. Socializing can be exhausting...and frankly, I'd rather spend my time with Jamie or our families and close friends. With the people I don't have to entertain and can just relax and be myself. With people where no explanation is required and pajamas are an acceptable form of dress.

To someone that has not been through this, all of this may sound strange. Not that anyone expects you to get over it, but they do expect you'll be "fine" one day and move forward. They don't understand why going to parties and events is stressful and out of your comfort zone.

I don't want anyone to think we are wallowing around in our grief because we aren't. Work, going to classes, seeing friends and family, laughter - are all a part of our lives. We enjoy being with friends and our nieces and nephews, but it is not the same life...and so my energy is different, my time is different and my priorities are different. We enjoy our life, but is different. It just it what it is.

We think about her everyday...when I see a dress in a size she might be wearing, a toy she might like, or a Christmas ornament that I'm hanging FOR her, instead of WITH her...she is always there.

Take a moment tonight and cherish the toddler that won't sit still, the 3-year old that is trying your patience, the 10-year old that thinks he knows everything. Love them harder tonight...just because you can.

Erica