Tag Archives: parents

Family Mending

In just a few days, I will experience a one year wedding anniversary for the second time. To look back beyond the last 365 days, the way I saw things going is not exactly how they turned out. For instance, I never quite expected to be celebrating one year of wedded bliss yet again, with a whole new person–my person–I might add. I most definitely never saw our beautifully complicated little family coexisting in legit bliss—give or take a few bumps here and there.

It was never intentional, the family we created. We (the adults) never saw any of this coming. I often tell YG when people make decisions it never affects only them. There is a ripple effect and it disrupts even the most secured. What we do today, no matter how minuscule, can have a profound effect on tomorrow. All of our decisions set the course for this moment, right here, to unfold exactly as it has. It is a little funny to see/hear people’s reactions when they find out who our cast of characters in this odd play is.

The bomb we dropped as adults produced a huge shockwave rippling the earth, reaching the farthest corners of our friends and family. There are always options when shockwaves happen. That which has fallen and been destroyed can be repaired or it can be left for dead. The displaced can turn away in search of something new, better, stronger. Not everything is worth repair. Not all foundations are meant to be examined and restructured. Not all relationships are capable of being better. All it takes is a little assessment. When the damage is assessed, what is left…is it important enough to be fixed? When the rumbling ceases and the ground no longer threatens to split wide open, when the structure has fallen, when the foundation is leveled, who is left? Are they important enough to rebuild? Are they important enough to roll up sleeves and dig in with bare hands? Or is it more beneficial to just turn away in search of newer, better, stronger?

Our foundation, as feeble as it was, needed repair. It needed to be given fresh eyes. Nothing we have done thus far has been for us. No dinners, no parties, no cordial conversations were ever for us. We never intentionally sought out this weird, yet functional family. We sought one thing: stability. That was the entire reason to rebuild what was lost. If the foundation was stable (this time), then all who entered, all who were meant to be sheltered from the cold, wind and rain could rest in comfort and love.

We began with forgiveness, added growth,  sprinkled in the release, and covered it with love. We made it big enough to withstand us all and then some. It took time for it to be completed and it certainly was not easy, but for those who enter it is safe, warm and full of love. Time heals wounds, yes. But love erases the ugly scars.

None of this has gone to plan, but that is okay. Seeing the beautiful outcome of what could have been a disaster, everything abandoned—nothing repaired, is more than enough for me. We all learned a valuable lesson about movement. Nothing can ever be if we don’t first move. The optimal direction is forward, but not all are capable. I am just so grateful to the past and the present we were able to step forward for the future. Alright, Alright.

~SM

Thank God for Baseball

Running through the day ahead, I stopped at the thought of the game tonight. My throat tightens, my eyes water and I wave tears away before they fall. For anyone who has children, it is safe to say they save you. There is a moment when the every day becomes too much and, as if they can read your thoughts, they come with a word, a smile or a moment. This act comes far and few between as they enter the space between being a child and putting away childish things, but it still does. And when it does, it means even more.

My children have saved me and they never knew. They have managed to take care of me just by being themselves. Seeing The Girl cross-legged in her bed in the wee hours, hair piled atop her head, laptop open, notebooks and text books strewn everywhere ignites hope. Seeing her see her possibility gives me life. Watching the baby rock back and forth on her tiny knees, raring to take off to nowhere, breathes life into my soul. And then…there is baseball.

Our lives have been lived on highways and byways, our Saturdays and Sundays swallowed whole. Our bank accounts drained for the purpose of investing in purpose. There is something to be said about the end of a long, hot ball game Saturday. Everything is dropped at the door, shoes are tossed in which ever direction they are kicked, everyone sighs with the release of home in their bones. The early 8 AM game and the late 8 PM nail biter have long since rolled off the shoulders and everyone is spent. And it will  happen all over again tomorrow. The long week of rushing from work to kids to drive-thru to practice to home to barely sleeping and repeat is also ahead of you, but you would never trade it for peace and quiet. You need this. You breathe this. You are a part of the dream and by proxy, you dream this.

I sat at work, waving away the tears thinking of him standing on the mound—smile slipping from under the game face and the arrogant walk off before blue even marks his last k with a barked “strike!” Today, he would save me. He would take away thoughts how’s, what’s and why’s. He would temporarily lift the weight. He wouldn’t know it as he leans forward, feet planted in the dusty red of the infield. He would never realize as he stands in the box trying like hell to hit his mark. Nothing about his glance to the bleachers and his wink would tell he knows, but I do. I know. For a few hours, I get to breathe. Baseball and all that comes with it has saved me…

~SM

Best Wishes To My Beloved

Beloved,

Time is moving so quickly, yet to you, it probably feels as though it is moving at a snail’s pace. Life is about to come at us fast as if it hasn’t already. We will look back on this day (and all the others) and wonder where the time had gone. I have loved many, but none like you. We are forever connected, no matter how our roles may change.

You will leave. You will grow. You will find trouble and love and adventure mixed together along the way. You will get your heart broken and have moments of loneliness. Tears will fall, time will fly and life will be electric–buzzing around you with possibility.

I will leave. I will grow toward gray. I have found my trouble and love and adventure all mixed together along this journey. My heart has been broken and I have cried. Tears fell, the time has flown and the electricity of life is still buzzing, just perhaps not as loudly.  What little advice I can offer is to keep your feet on the ground as much as you can. Be humble in the moments when the world calls you to be anything but. Hold your heart open and extend the softer side of yourself during the time when being hardhearted is easiest. Speak after and think it through first. Words, your words, are bond. Mean what you say but hear the other side. Admit when you are wrong and be open to learning, always. Don’t just look ahead, but find some time to broaden your vision to see it all.

I have not been perfect.  But that is the beauty of life, you see. In the imperfection lies the meat of living. Embrace your imperfections and never stop moving. Always push forward, especially when you don’t feel you can. An inch is just as far as a mile. Watch. Listen. Learn.

Life is coming and it is coming fast. Before long you will have loves of your own, bills of your own and hard decisions of your own. Don’t be afraid to look back, to ask, to grow, to cry, to love, to listen, to be silent, to be you. Put all trust in Him and grab onto Him to steady yourself before you stumble. Greet every day with a smile, even when dark clouds are overhead.

I have had the pleasure and the privilege to love you. I will continue to love you from afar as you inch away from home base. Just know, no matter what I have or where I am, I am your home and home is always open.

Enjoy this moment and all of those moments coming. I know I will.

With Love Always,

Me