Community : Write 28 Days

Community! What a wonderful word.

I got to experience my favorite community Saturday. I am blessed to have a group of friends I've known for over (gulp!) 40 years. Once a month we get together to catch up and encourage one another to handle some of those monotonous things that have to be done. Sometimes it's bill paying or sorting through accumulated paperwork. Sometimes it's some mindless task we've been putting off because it's boring! Sometimes we just wind up coming together to sit with one another.

We call ourselves The Fun Girls - 4 women and 1 man. I've known Keith since were 7. We've been through a lot together. The women, Linda, Caroline, and Sandra, I've known since high school. Linda is our cruise director. If it weren't for her Fun Girls would never have started or continued as it does. Many years ago she contacted all of us and suggested the idea of getting together once a month to do some crafting or an outing. Over time it's evolved into just getting together. Sometimes we go out to eat or do some antiquing. Occasionally we take the weekend and go to a state park together (just the girls then LOL!). But one way or another we see each other most months. 

We don't all make it every month, but we do our best. Yesterday The Fun Girls met at my house. We were all present and accounted for. There is always food, of course. Sandra brings chicken salad from the Amish store near her. Keith brings whatever strikes his fancy when he strolls the aisles at Publix. Caroline brings fruit and hummus and whatever item she's stumbled on recently. Linda makes "Crack", our affectionate term for her chocolate chip cookies. And I provide something breakfast-y - scones, muffins, strudel, etc.

My kitchen island was covered in food. My dining room table was spread out to its full length and all of our projects intermingled as we "worked" and ate and talked and caught up on mutual friends and information. It was lovely.

My son and his girlfriend came in at one point and chatted for a bit. Keith had brought one of his vintage percolators. He made coffee for us all while we remembered the coffee pots of our families, and we introduced my son to old fashioned stovetop percolators. 

As I write this all, it seems a bit disjointed and muddled. Not a good description of a lovely day spent with dear friends. But that's what it was because real community is disjointed, muddled, messy, and wonderful all at the same time.

These people have seen me through a lot - marriage, pregnancies, medical scares, PTSD, depression, children issues and joys, and the disintegration of my marriage. They have held me up in my worst times. They have listened to most of the gory details of the childhood abuse, and they still love and support me. They got me through the transition from longterm marriage to successfully living on my own. 

And that's what community is. That's what community does. Thank God for community!

Relationships and Healing [day 5]

Nothing has impacted my healing as much as relationships with other people. 

Last night I was reminded of this all over again.

My husband and I were at our small group dinner. There were fewer of us than usual, with several of our members out of town. We sat around eating soup, chips, avocado, and watermelon, and talking about church and life. After dessert (a pumpkin bundt cake -- I'll share the recipe later!), we moved into the sitting room to continue talking.

I'm not sure how it happened, but people began sharing a bit of their histories and life stories. I listened as people told about their children and then the stories would segue to family of origin. One thing led to another and I was sharing my history. Not all the gory details but more than my standard quick and dirty version. I was crocheting as I talked and I never looked up from my work (a typical avoidance technique I use). There were a few comments, but mostly what I felt was stunned silence. 

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the host's daughter, so I never really found out what anyone thought or felt about my revelations. The group dispersed and I found myself walking to the car in a daze, knotting my hands in my purse strap. Sitting in the car, my husband expressed concern that I would begin to doubt myself. We talked a bit about what had just happened. I tried to quell the rising anxiety that always comes with revealing my past to new people. 

Other people had shared difficult pasts as well, and I knew I felt no differently about them. I knew I was glad that our group had moved into a deeper level of knowing one another, but it was difficult to quiet the old tapes in my head -- the ones that tell me I won't be believed; that I'll be shunned; that the world will come crashing down.

At home, I moved into my standard coping and relaxing mechanisms, worrying than I wouldn't be able to sleep. But sleep came fairly easily with only 1 or 2 bad dreams. 

Healing is a constant, on-going process. Building and maintaining relationships are part of the path. 

I guess I placed another stone last night.



This is day 5 in Write 31 Days

Giving a Piece of Myself

Best or worst gift you ever gave.

Several years ago I broke off contact with my parents. It was my choice to take a break from interacting with them, as I try to continue healing from CSA and 2 rapes as an adult.
I finally ran out of strength and energy to try and get them to understand my pain, and the things I needed from them. I didn't stop loving them or wanting their approval. 
I needed time to learn that I can love them in all their imperfection, and that their not understanding didn't equal not loving me.

We see each other periodically now, exchanging information via email. I still haven't gotten to the point that I'm comfortable with random phone calls. I just can't take the possibility of being caught off guard with them, but I think we are making progress. Our relationship will never be the one I wanted and needed, but I tried to give them the gift of knowing me when I gave them this gift at Christmas 3 years ago. 

Dear Mother and Daddy,

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year all rolled into one!

This year I have decided to do a joint gift for you. It is a basket filled with things I love and want to share with you. This note is an explanation of each item.

Mother, this shawl is for you. It is made of 100% recycled cotton yarn. When I first returned to crocheting a few years ago, I was determined to learn to read patterns, and this is the first shawl I made using a pattern. I have kept it because I loved it so much, and now I want you to have it. The colors make me think of you. You may wear it or use it as a table linen. I hope you enjoy it. (It can be machine washed on a cold delicate cycle, and then laid flat to dry.)

Daddy, the prayer beads are for you. I have always been intrigued by prayer beads, and as I have worked on healing I have found them to be very helpful in keeping me centered in moments of panic or stress. I have included instructions on how to use them, along with a prayer from Julian of Norwich. Turquoise is one of my favorite stones to work with, and I hope you will enjoy using them or just looking at them and thinking of me. (If you are interested in more information on using them, I have some books you could look at. Feel free to email me about them.)

The remaining items are for you to share:

Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals is a devotional book that I have been using for a couple of years now. It is based on The Book of Common Prayer, but has been modernized and simplified. Each day provides a message, readings from the Old and New Testaments and Psalms, as well as a hymn (all in the back of the volume) and then providing an opportunity to pray for others. I frequently look the hymns up on YouTube and listen to them as I read. This particular volume has opened my eyes to a greater understanding of God’s love for all people, and helped me widen my world view.

"The Ghost on the Canvas" is Glen Campbell’s final cd. He has retired since being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Campbell has always been one of my favorites. I feel as if I grew up listening to him, along with the Lettermen, and Jimmie Driftwood, among others. Anyway, I have found this cd to be very moving both musically and lyrically. I hope you both enjoy it as well.

First Watch (gift certificate) is a new restaurant in town. I know how much you enjoy going out to eat, and I always enjoy sharing new places with you. The restaurant serves breakfast and lunch until 2:30, no dinner. The food is lovely! Wonderful eggs, waffles, pancakes, sandwiches, and soups. I hope you get a chance to try it, and let me know what you think.

Finally, the basket is from SERRV.org. They are a fair trade organization, and I like the hands on quality of their items, as well as knowing the gift serves a dual purpose. Of course, my theory is you can never have too many baskets!

I want you both to know that I appreciate this time you are giving to me to work on healing, and I look forward to continuing to improve and deepen our relationship. I love you both very much.

Blessings

I know this gift was given with an open, searching heart, and I think they received it that way. A single gift can't repair our damaged relationship, but I still feel positively about my motivations and the desire I had in giving the gift to them. Even now as I write this, I feel the anxiety rising in my body. Tension and discomfort. I wanted so much from them that they were unable to give. I believe I have forgiven them, but I keep them at arm's length for my own wellbeing. 

I will give them gifts again this Christmas, but none will ever be as meaningful as that gift and what I tried to invite and say in the giving of it.

linking up with Writer's Workshop and Just Write

Grateful

I am grateful. 

Last week I wrote about a mess I was struggling with. The struggle is still there, but it's not quite as overwhelming. And I saw Ann Voskamp's quote on happiness and gratitude on a friend's page this morning -- a friend who lost her only daughter in a car wreck . . . a friend who is helping to raise her small grandson without a mother while instilling memories of her in his heart -- and it made me remember to acknowledge how grateful I am.

Gratitude is important to all of us. We want to be acknowledged when we do something nice for someone else. It validates the giver and the recipient. God wants us to acknowledge our gratitude to Him, and we should. But the reality is that acknowledging my gratitude to God is really more for me than for Him. Stopping and sitting with my gratitude for all the things that God does for me makes me take notice of them. It makes me give Him credit which in turn brings me closer to Him. And that's what it's all about.

Being grateful makes me recognize my own needs and limitations, and opens me up to receiving and recognizing God's love and grace.

So right now, in this moment, I am grateful.

linking up with Five Minute Friday

A Complicated Life

Lots of people know my dad. My mom, too, but mostly my dad. 
I was abused as a child. Not by my parents, but it's created some incredible tension in our relationship.
Yesterday I had lunch in a local diner, and as I was leaving I ran into a minister from our church. He was having lunch with someone who's recently moved to our city to work in adoption ministry.
I was making casual conversation and mentioned that my brother was adopted. One thing led to another and my dad's name was mentioned. The newbie knew my dad. The minister, who knows my story, got that "a-ha" deer in the headlight look, and I started to panic. The minister knows my dad.
We were having one of those conversations with our eyes, while the newbie rattled on about how great my dad was and memories he had of him. I said something inane like, "Yeah, I get that a lot" and excused myself.
By the time I got to my car I was shaking, and I couldn't even figure out why. Then it dawned on me. I have a lot of respect for this minister. My husband and I work closely with him at our church. If he knows my dad will that alter his opinion of me? Will he choose to see me in the same light my dad does? Will he think less of me because of things I have shared about my difficult family relationship? Will he choose "their side" over mine now that he's put 2 and 2 together?
So I called him and posed this situation to him. He assured me that it doesn't change his opinion of me. I believe him . . . mostly.
Family complications.

linking up at Writer's Workshop