21st Birthday!

linking up with Wordless Wednesday

Belief and Love

"We accept the love we think we deserve." -- The Perks of Being a Wallflower

"People put you down enough, you start to believe it. The bad stuff is easier to believe. You ever notice that?" -- Pretty Woman

I watched "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" last night. With my husband and 20 year old son. He was deeply affected by the film the first time he saw it and really wanted us to watch it with him. It is a finely crafted film with impressive performances, most notably Logan Lerman, Emma Watson, and Ezra Miller as Charlie, Sam, and Patrick, respectively.

If you haven't seen the film or read the book, IMDb summarizes it this way -- 

Based on the novel written by Stephen Chbosky, this is about 15-year-old Charlie (Logan Lerman), an endearing and naive outsider, coping with first love (Emma Watson), the suicide of his best friend, and his own mental illness while struggling to find a group of people with whom he belongs. The introvert freshman is taken under the wings of two seniors, Sam and Patrick, who welcome him to the real world.

And here's the thing. It's a story about so very much, but it was for me about the reality of the abuse epidemic we have in our society.

My son has grown up with the knowledge that I am an abuse survivor. He knows enough to understand a bit about my struggles, but he knows none of the nitty, gritty details. As my friend says, "He knows the PG version". He wanted us to watch this movie with him, and he knew it would impact me, but he had no idea of the intensity of feelings it would release. As I sat sobbing through the final portions of the movie, at times with my hands pressed over my mouth, as if trying to hold in my own secrets and shame, he kept glancing over at me. When the film ended he turned to my husband and me said, "Did you like it?" And I couldn't speak. My husband told him to give me a moment. As I sat sobbing, my son, who is stingy with hugs and "I love yous", asked if I needed a hug. And I said yes. He held me and rubbed my back and told me he loved me, and he held me some more. I accepted his efforts at consolation, being deeply moved that he has a heart that saw the pain in the movie and the pain in me, and responded to it.

There wasn't much sleep for me last night. I kept replaying certain scenes from the movie. Doing comparative analysis. Scanning images in my head from the movie and from my own experiences. 

Abuse is an enormously damaging thing. It lingers. It dwells below the surface and rears its ugly head at unexpected moments. Charlie gets it. He hears the pain around him. 

Charlie: There is so much pain. And I-I-I don't know how not to notice it.

Dr. Burton: What's hurting you?

Charlie: No, not... not me. It's them! It's... it's everyone. It never stops. Do you understand?

And that is the legacy of abuse. There is no good way not to notice the pain all around us. We must learn to hear and respond, and in responding agree to carry some of the pain in our souls.

To be compassionate witnesses, as my son was for me last night.

Day 8 of 31

Three weeks before my son was born, I planned his funeral. 

Pregnancy was hard for me, and I've never known how much of that was abuse related and how much was just the vagaries of fate.

When I was pregnant with my daughter I developed pre-eclampsia late in my third trimester. They put me on bed rest and then induced me 2 weeks after my due date. I labored for 24 hours to no avail, and wound up having a c-section to deliver my beautiful red-headed 9 pound baby girl.

Throughout my pregnancy with my son there were all kinds of difficulties. Early bed rest. No heavy lifting. And inside my head was the question, "Why can't I do something as simple as pregnancy right?" 

That day I went to see the ob/gyn and he said don't do anything until this baby is born. So I went home, glad that I'd hired a college student to come and help with housework. She came that afternoon and I fretted while she cleaned my house and I did nothing but lay on the sofa. My daughter was 3 and as I picked her up, I felt a gush of water. I called the doctor and he said go straight to the hospital labor and delivery. I called my husband.

As we drove to the hospital, I told him if the baby died I wanted a funeral. He was a real person, and he deserved to be recognized as such. I was 7 months pregnant and this was 19 years ago. I didn't know what his odds were, but I assumed they were bad. And yet I was calm. I would handle this.

I spent the next 3 weeks in the hospital praying for my baby to be all right and wondering why I couldn't do things right. Why did I always have to screw things up and make drama?

When my son was born all those weeks later, it wasn't him they were worried about. It was me. I was in intensive care for a couple of days, and I railed at God to please let me live to care for these children. I wasn't scared of dying. I just didn't want to leave my babies without a mama.

Over 19 years later, I look back on that time and the first thing I feel is gratitude. My son is healthy and happy and away at college. He is strong, loving, and full of humor. When I wrap my arms around him I am still amazed.

But the second thing I feel is sadness. Sadness that I spent all those months of pregnancy worrying about what I was doing wrong. All those weeks sitting in the hospital berating myself for failing at something so simple as having a baby. 

The lasting effects of abuse.

But the final emotion I feel? It's joy. Joy for that beautiful baby boy grown into a fine young man, and joy for me that I have pushed through to the other side. Not perfectly, but with resolve to fight to the end to reclaim my life.


linking up with Lisa-Jo and Ann Voskamp

:: ten things

SouleMama reminded me yesterday of the benefit of looking for ten things that are bringing me joy right now.
So here are my ten, in no particular order:
1. My son playing his guitar, while talking one his phone, and looking up tabs on his computer.

2. My new Fiat 500c convertible. It just makes me happy tooling around town in it.

3. My daughter taking care of a run to the grocery store with NO LIST and doing a fabulous job.


4. Finding a time and place for a little solo get away. Coming up soon!The Garden Inn
5. New yarn! I know I haven't used up all I've got, but I simply couldn't resist.


6. These yummy granola bars that took no time at all to make.

7. This series in USA Today, by my lifelong friend. He is dealing with colon cancer with grace and humor, and sharing it all weekly in 
My Semicolon Life.


8. These baskets I found at Whole Body and here at The Blessing Basket Project.

9. This fabric from Monaluna called fox hollow! Unbelievably cute and adorable. I don't know what to do with it, but I think I'm going to have to have some of it.


10. The Leakey Collection: Beads for Learning. What a great idea for gifts that give twice. I've been wearing mine since I ran across it in the bookstore TN Tech University last week.


As SouleMama says: And you?? What are ten things bringing you joy right in this moment? Write it down, say it out loud, photograph it, or share it with those you love...

Transitions

Yesterday afternoon, I put my son and husband on a plane to fly out west. They'll be gone for two weeks visiting wonderful destinations like Devil's Tower, the Grand Canyon, Sequoia National Park, and Mount Rushmore. They will hike, climb (Devil's Tower!), rappel, and have lots of time together just the two of them. I am very happy that they'll have this time to make memories that will, as the saying goes, last a lifetime.


On the other hand -- this is longest I've been away from my husband since before our children were born. I've never been a way from my son for this long. It's an odd sensation. I know they'll be fine, and it's not as if we are cut off from each other given that we all have easy access to cell phones, Skype, Facebook, and email, but last night as my daughter and I prepared to go to bed, the house just seemed too big and dark and quiet. Where was my husband laying out his early morning work out clothes? Where were the sounds of X-box emanating from my son's room? And all that pre-bed chatter? 


Claire and I have lots of fun things planned for the two weeks they'll be gone, and I have lots of ideas (too many probably) of great things to be accomplished while they're gone. But I had trouble getting to sleep and staying asleep last night, because things were not as they should be.


Maybe this is a good training period for the fall when my son goes off to college. A good test run to see how I'll fair without his laughter, chatter, and even annoyance and anger around the house on a daily basis.


Then again, maybe I could homeschool him for college.

Serendipitous Heart (Leaf)

the other day as I was walking through my kitchen

I noticed a leaf on the floor.

I bent down to pick it up and was 

stopped short by what I saw.

the leaf dry and brown,

was shaped like a perfect heart!

it seemed serendipitous to me.

a gift from God.

an unexpected lift for my spirit.

I laid it gently on my sewing table until

I could grab my camera and get a shot.

the next day I saw my daughter poking at it.

I told her what had happened, and 

to please be careful as I wanted to

get a picture of it.

later as I sat working (well playing)

at my computer, my son came in

and started talking with me.

I had my back to him.

I turned around to respond to something

he had said, and that's when I 

saw it.

he had a pair of scissors in his hand 

and was randomly cutting something

into little pieces.

oh yes it was my little miracle gift

from God! 

snip, snip, snip

and it was gone.

when I told him what he had done

he was truly apologetic.

his friend said, "I wondered what that

was there for. I broke a piece of it off."

so here's my picture of my serendipitous

heart-leaf

wish you could have seen it.

I did and it made my day.

catch up with more "Feel Good Friday" at lia sophia tomgirl