Lamont

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LL Cool Baby was hard to care for and hard NOT to fall head over heals in love with.  He came to us at 2 weeks (after NICU).  By 4 weeks he was re-admitted to the hospital with a major UTI (into his bladder and kidneys).  And by 6 weeks he was starting with upper respiratory and reflux issues.  Yet he was growing and developing (slowly) and just look at those cheeks and the twinkle in his eye.  He had us all wrapped!

Unfortunately, his health didn’t get any better as the girls started into school for the Fall and I started chauffeuring to after school activities.  Development delays were in full bloom.  (He was born at 35 weeks.)  I kept thinking surely it would get better. WE (the Doctors and I ) would figure out what his underlying health issues were and fix him up and we would move on down the road.  But that didn’t happen.  Instead it was a constant stream of Doctors appointments and ER visits.  Medicine prescribed and failed.  Virus they would say.  Breathing treatments.  And through the entire time, he kept getting worse.  He sounded like Darth Vader on a good day.

The baby that could be soothed if distracted or held, couldn’t be soothed anymore.  He would go into fits of rage and be inconsolable.  This would happen several times a day for up to an hour each time.  The baby that we would get smiles from, who was close to rolling over,  was grabbing at toys and swinging with Gregg, was miserable.  And the worst part was that I didn’t know how to help him.  Medical professionals were throwing out theories but nothing was helping.  His oxygen level would look normal when tested so he must be just a ‘fussy baby with a virus’.  ARGH!

Then one day in early December I had a revelation.  LL and I were finally at the Pulmonology Clinic. (2 months wait list) Of course, when we arrived at the Pulmonologist, everyone was concerned about his breathing.  (duh…me too) Medical professionals are swarming around us to get him a breathing treatment and take his puls ox.  And then I made the fatal mistake…I told them he had Rhino Virus.  And then all they could think about was Rhino.  We were in that examination room for 4 hours.  Two things came out of that exam room:  a cool nose sucker and my realization that I had to let LL go.  He had become 100% of my time.  And while I loved him and wanted to advocate for him and help find a diagnosis, I was neglecting myself and my family and I needed to advocate for LL in a different way.

There are different levels of care within the foster care system.  (Basic, Moderate, Specialized, Intense)  We are ‘basic’ level care home.  

LL had exceeded the basic level of care and needed to be moved to a moderate (preferably medical) home.  When we got home from the specialist office, I called the caseworker and yelled ‘calf rope’.  Then I proceeded to write and email to formally request his removal and re-location.

calf-rope:  to give in, surrender

When i was little, my dad would play tickle monster with me.  He would be the ticket monster and the only way I could get him to stop tickling was by saying ‘calf rope’.   Well, I hated to say ‘calf rope’ because it meant giving up.  I wanted to be able to wiggly out and away and ‘beat’ the tickle monster.  I never want to surrender.

That’s when the really hard stuff started.  I requested he be moved within 7 days.  The things I learned about levels of care after requesting removal:

  • The state legally has 30 days to re-locate a child unless said child is inflicting harm to themselves or our family.
  • In order for his level of care to be changed, paperwork has to be submitted with medical backup and then approved by directors.
  • CPS only supports basic level homes.
  • In order for a child to be labeled medical they must have a machine hooked to them 24 hours a day.

I began to unravel.  Did I mention it was Christmas time?  Or that Chase had moved home and then to NYC?  Or that Mitch and Liz had moved home?  Or that LL was crying ALL the time?  Or that G was traveling?

When I submitted the formal request to remove LL, I felt like I was saying ‘calf rope’.  I had spent every last bit of energy and effort and I didn’t have any more to give.  So after a visit with LL’s caseworker telling me that there weren’t any homes and that he might have to come live in her office or be taken to a shelter, and 10 days out from the request, I called our FAD caseworker.   I pleaded with her to find someone.  She called back with her Supervisor and that is when things got ugly.

A lecture about the ‘quality’ of children in the foster care system and my ability to care for them would not be received well at any time.  But a lecture from OUR FAD workers Supervisor on a day when I am more than overwhelmed sent me over the edge….to the ugly cry/rage.  To inconsolable disbelief.  To calling G.  To G and I getting on the phone with the Supervisor so that he could clear things up because to say ‘I lost it’ was an understatement.

Fourteen days into the request, I got the call they had found a placement.  It was a Wednesday and they were moving him on Friday.  Great!  I had just left to take Landen shopping and we would have enough time to pack him up and say goodbyes.  About 10 minutes passed and the caseworker calls back.  They have to move him today by 5pm, should she send a transporter or do I want to bring him to her office?  So much for shopping.  Landen and I headed home to pack.

We had him packed up within a couple of hours and then G and the girls helped us load up and I took him to South Dallas to the caseworkers office.  It was hard but I knew it was for the best.  We got to the office and she was’t ready and needed to finish paperwork.  So I sat and played with him and tried to feed him.  They were going to move him to a family in Henderson, TX.  I didn’t know where that was and I really didn’t question anything about the placement because I expected that CPS would be placing him according to what was best for HIM:  A moderate level home that had a lot of medical experience and had the flexibility to take him to all of his specialist appointments.

There are certain looks that kids can give you that can break your heart.  When their eyes show fear and are looking for you to comfort them is one of the worst.  When I got LL loaded in the caseworkers car to head to his new home, he gave me that look.  The look that he knew he was being separated from the momma he had known for 6 months and he was scared.  It can actually rip a part of your heart I think.
I wailed.

I was so relieved when the caseworker texted later that evening to say that the foster parents were both nurses.  Yea God!

The evening was spent snuggling my girls and gregg, eating pizza and watching a movie.  The next day I was doing pretty good.  I was cleaning out baby stuff to lessen the clutter.  I really felt (still feel) like God had his hand in moving him to an unofficial medical home.  And I was moving on with the girls.  Reece had a friend over and Landen’s friend was headed over.  I was going to take all the girls to ice skate at the Galleria.  Everyone was excited as we headed to Dallas.

And then, LL’s caseworker called. The caseworker had taken LL from his parental visit and was headed to ER.  The new foster family had been up all night with him and were very concerned about his major respiratory distress, but they were headed to a family event.  So the caseworker decided to take him to the ER and ‘not leave until she had answers’.  Of course, she didn’t know anything about his medical history so she called me.

One of the hardest things as a foster parent is letting go.  No matter how long the child has been in your care, it is hard to let go.  It’s even harder when the child is sick and you have been in the trenches with them for 6 months.  So when the caseworker called, I immediately wanted to head to the ER and comfort LL.  He had been with strangers for the past 24 hours and he was still physically feeling lousy.  But I was on track with my kids to go Ice Skating.  I was torn.  While the caseworker had said I could come to the ER, I had talked with Gregg and Julie and they discouraged me from going.  Julie said that the hospital wouldn’t let me in see him because I had no legal rights and Gregg said I needed to let go.  And I’m pretty sure a bit of my heart ripped deeper.  So a 6 month old baby in a strange place with strangers, feeling horrible and wondering where did my momma go?

It still hurts to think about it.

I stayed with the plan to ‘play’ with my girls.  Ice Skating didn’t work out but we managed to salvage the afternoon by making a mess in the kitchen.

The next morning I received a call from the new foster family.  They had not intended for the caseworker to take LL to the ER or for the hospital to keep him.  They thought they were coming to Dallas for a visit and family event.  So they didn’t have my number but called as soon as they could.  Bonnie is a pediatric nurse and her husband is an ER nurse.  They have 5 children and are adoption motivated.  THANK YOU GOD!  When they accepted placement of LL they were told he was healthy with one specialist and up for adoption.  Once he came into their home, they learned the truth.  They are 2.5 hours away from Children’s Medical and realized that this kid has lots of medical needs.  They immediately submitted for him to be relocated.

Why on earth would CPS place a medically needy child so far from the best medical care in North Texas?

So LL was admitted to the hospital on December 22 and didn’t get out until the evening of the 24th.  Doctors said he had the Rhino Virus again.  And CPS changed their mind and wouldn’t let me visit.  And all I could think about for those 48 hours was…a 6 month old baby that is in the hospital AGAIN, but this time with out his ‘momma’… Instead he is being ‘monitored’ by a stranger.  Even without his new foster parents because they are 2.5 hours away.  And I felt like my heart might actually burst.

Bonnie, the new foster mom, was able to pick him up the evening of the 24th and take him home with her.  He remained with her until January 6 when he was moved to another foster home.  During his brief stay with Bonnie, she was able to get him to breath better.  She regulated his breathing treatments and got him into a pediatrician that was actually able to remove and dry up some of his mucus.  She figured out that depending on how he was positioned determined his oxygen quality level and she was able to start him on a new asthma medicine.  She also knows the new foster parents and they have another child that has respiratory issues so they feel very comfortable caring for him.

I don’t doubt that God has been in LL’s life from the beginning.  I don’t doubt that he continues to comfort him and care for him and guide his path.  And I believe He is with our family as well in this fostering journey.  I do wish it wasn’t such a painful process.

We all loved LL Cool Baby and still do.  He is a special little boy.  He is sweet, cute, loving and strong willed.  I will pray for him always.  He has a piece of my heart forever but I am still healing from his departure.

The Table

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I met Jackie Roese on my birthday in 2008.  They had just moved into a new townhome (as in moving that day) and Gregg offered to bring over a meats and cheese tray so they could take a break from unpacking.  We had just started attending IBC.  Gregg had heard about Water is Basic and introduced himself to Steve.  Jackie had just preached from the pulpit for the first time.  (I didn’t know that was a big deal at the time.)  Bryan and Alison were helping them unpack.  Kelly came a bit later.  This was my first experience with the ‘Art of the Roese’s table’.  I had never sat around a table (or in any space) and had the type of discussions, interactions, expressed compassion, encouragement, understanding, acceptance, faith and hope.  It was a night that changed our lives forever.

As I get older, I realize there are moments that have defined my life.  Some so big that they leave a stamp on my soul.  A lot are traumatic, sad and shocking and yet a lot are invigorating, exciting and surprising.   All are life changing.  The Roese’s table is one of those life altering Stamps.

I left their house that night in 2008 with two comments to Gregg.  One, I really like those people. And two (the one that still follows me around), I think I could be friends with Jackie if she just didn’t talk about Jesus so much.  Little did I know…that was impossible.  And little did I know that I needed her to talk about Jesus, to explain him to me and to guide me through understanding the Bible and the God she so loved.

The Beauty and Art of the Roese Table was not in the style of the legs or color of the paint.  It was in the people that sat around that table and have sat around that table for years.  It was in the openness, acceptance, emotions, challenges and heart at that table.

Great art inspires and evokes emotion and thought.  I am thankful for the Art of the Roese Table.   I have no doubt the next table, that is set in Austin, will provide the same beauty and I can’t wait to visit it.

The family was an art…and the dinner table was the place it found expression.
–Don DeLillo

The Spring

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We pack a lot into every day.  Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.  Some days feel mundane and non-eventful.  But the other days … they are full.  They are overwhelming and exhausting.  Yet they are what make me appreciate the mundane days.  Spring was full of eventful days.

The pace of spring was anticipated yet not expected.  I could see the calendar.  I knew what was coming, mostly.  But i didn’t know the toll it would take.  The expected were the dance competitions, gymnastics meets, grieving Alliyah’s re-location, birthdays, Gabriela’s birth and a trips to Disney.  The unexpected were the family health challenges, school re-zoning, a puberty and identity crisis for Reece, alienation from our grand-daughter and  starting a new company.

I think the most challenging part of the spring was realizing my attitude, age and stamina have changed…and not necessarily for the better.  I have realized the adrenaline rush of trauma is NOT my friend.   I have realized my emotional and intellectual health impacts my physical health.  I have realized that my body is my chronological age but my stamina wants to be a much younger age and I really want my body to be too.  I have realized my pace needs to be different.

And I have realized that going 6 months without my toes in the sand and my eyes on the ocean is too long.

I miss her…

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For the last few days it has felt like Aaliyah was just ‘on a trip’ visiting family.  But the reality that she is gone is now setting in…and I miss her so.  I miss her sassy attitude, her ‘nah’ to everything, her wandering around the house to find anyone’s clothes to put on, her dancing and her snuggles.   I miss her yet I know she is where she needs to be.

Every foster child has a different story.  Aaliyah’s story and her entry into our world was no exception.  Typically when we ‘go back on the list’ for a foster child, we receive a call within 2-3 days.  However, that didn’t happen in August.  Instead we waited and waited.  Then in late August I received a group text message from a previous caseworker asking if anyone would take a 1 yo female.  That the judge wouldn’t order her removal until she was certain she had a place to go.  I jumped on it and said, Yes!

Crickets…for 6 more days.  (also no other calls for placements) The Tuesday after Memorial Day they were going back to court.  About 3 pm the caseworker texted and said the judge had ordered the baby to be removed.  Then crickets.  They had gone to remove the baby and the caregiver had left with her.  She was on the run.  It took a few hours to locate them and finally do the removal.  Finally about 10 pm, Aaliyah joined our family.

Aaliyah came to us as a very frightened little girl.  Our best guess is that she had been held most of the time by one person and had not had safe encounters with others.  She seemed to be trained to sit and be still with her blanket.  Every noise,  movement, human and animal scared her.  Her blankie was/is her prized possession and best friend.  (especially the corners.) 

We have worked hard to gain her trust (especially gregg), encouraged and taught her how to play with toys and worked with her on her eating skills.  While she is still apprehensive to new people coming into the house, she has grown to trust our home to be safe with safe people.  And she is starting to come into her own. She is a very opinionated, smart and aware little girl now.  She gibber gabbers all the time and has a few words and signs she can use.  She also understands things VERY well.  And she LOVES to dance and snuggle.

Aaliyah has 3 brothers (2 older, 1 younger).  The older brothers are placed with a dad.  The younger brother is placed with an Aunt and Uncle.  Unfortunately, the same families couldn’t take in Aaliyah when she came into care and birth mom was determined to get her into care with family that would grant her illegal access. Fortunate for Aaliyah, none of the other people that birth mom requested passed home studies. So we really expected to have her for a very long time (like a year).  But Aaliyah’s journey took a turn a few weeks ago.   The court went back to the Aunt and Uncle and they agreed to take her in.  (they have a 14 yo, 3 yo, 1.5 yo and A’s brother- 5 mo.)  Unfortunately birth mom doesn’t want her with Aunt and Uncle so pushed back and a special hearing had to be done to place Aaliyah there.  So we had a week of limbo.

During that week, I had a couple of exchanges with Aaliyah’s attorney as I requested transition for this emotionally sensitive child.  A couple of days prior to the special court hearing, the attorney called and after our discussion about Aaliyah, asked what my maiden name was.  It seems we had worked at camp Ryla at the same time…18 years ago!!!  God knew this interaction would take place…what a privileged to be able to get a glimpse into His plan.  Amazingly this connection would open a dialogue with the attorney that would allow us to transition Aaliyah to her aunt and uncle.  And it was beautiful.  Exhausting but beautiful.  They seem like wonderful people and it the best place for her to be…with her family.  And we get to have an on-going relationship with her.  God is so good.  This experience has given me a renewed hope in the process and I am so thankful that we could fill in the gap for Aaliyah.

And I still miss her.

Does it matter?

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I am just another voice sharing my opinion.  Maybe it will matter and maybe it won’t.  It will matter to those I love and that love me…maybe…but it might not change their opinions.  I have been processing more than usual during this political season.  Is it because we are raising girls?  Is it because I was sexually assaulted in college?  Is it because we care for foster children and illegal immigrants?  Is it because I am shocked at how divided our extended family is during this political time?  Or is it because I am disgusted by how nasty the political world has become and the dividing line between people?

Here is what i have a hard time with…when did it become acceptable for our Nation’s leader to treat women with such disdain and hatred?  When did it become acceptable for leaders to lie repeatedly and there be NO repercussions?  I know this isn’t the first President to lack respect for women and to lie (unfortunately), but when did we decide, as a nation, that it’s an acceptable attribute?  Because, the truth is, with this type of blatant, egotistical, power monger as our President it gives others (in all walks of life) the freedom to treat whomever they want however they want without consequences.  Is that how we want our children to treat others?  Is that how we want to treat each other? We have elected the biggest bully to be our President and we expect to teach our kids better?

One of the things we learned in graduate school (and that I learned from my father) is that the leaders create the environment in which they are over by how they act, how they treat people, and who they hire.  By setting boundaries that are acceptable and unacceptable.  As I have gotten older and cared for children, I see this is also a great parenting strategy. Now, I’m not naive. I know there is evil in the world.  I know not everyone agrees with my top-down leadership approach and  I know others have differing opinions that me.  However I choose to treat those others with respect and kindness (mostly).

Here is where it gets personal….I was raped over 25 years ago, and I didn’t tell my parents until last weekend.  The reason I didn’t tell:  I didn’t think they would believe me and I thought they would blame me.  Why did I tell them after so long?  Because I wanted to believe that it mattered.  I wanted to believe that by sharing my story, my Dad would be open to changing some of his political and personal opinions.  I wanted to believe that because something mattered it could change an opinion.  I wanted to be able to reconcile how my idol, my dad, could have supported me, told me I could be and do anything,  encouraged me to demand respect from all, shared his Faith in God and required me to treat others with respect…how could the same brilliant man be such a chauvinist, be so narrow minded that he only votes on ONE issue?  How could he not believe the women that have been sexually abused because they didn’t have ‘proof’.  How could he be a trump supporter.  How could my story NOT matter?  How could my story NOT change his opinion?

What I learned was he thought something had happened to me but never asked.  I learned that he is happy i have ‘dealt with it’ but it’s not going to change his opinion.

So does it matter?  Maybe it would have mattered if I had gotten pregnant during my rape like so many women do?

I am not a Republican or a Democrat.  I vote for the candidate that I can agree with the most.  There is not ONE candidate that I agree with entirely.  But I will vote for the person that has displayed leadership qualities that I agree with.  That I can point to, proudly, while talking with the daughters.  That respects women and doesn’t belittle them for amusement. That respects people of different nationalities that are trying to improve themselves and their families.  That doesn’t try to build themselves up by putting others down.  I will vote for the Pro-choice candidate every time, not because I believe Abortion is the way to go, but because I believe every woman should have a choice.

And I will love my dad and i will respect that we have lived different lives.  And I will use this opportunity to teach my daughters to treat people with kindness and respect whether we agree with them or not.  Like my dad taught me.

And I will grieve.

 

 

Crashing 10 years ago

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Crash

The writing below is from the Fall of 2008.  Little did we know what would unfold in the next 10 years.  So thankful we crashed though!

God has left his mark on us in our life circumstances through the last few years and we have added a mark to commemorate His impact on our world. As many of you may know or recognize, we started a spiritual journey shortly after Chase’s entry to treatment and it has been a progressive process over the last two years or so. Chase’s scenario, Landen’s birth and the failure of Construction Strategies caused us to realize there are more important things in life than building material security.

Once Chase came home, we began to investigate how and where we needed to focus on others. This has been a passionate individual and team journey. God has taken us to places we never thought we would go. I (Krista) have taken on a new perspective about Jesus and God. I have renewed or finally truly established my faith in Jesus Christ. This has allowed me to define new priorities and passions in my life.

As we have progressed along our path to re-discovering God, we have found new books to feed our souls. One of these, The Barbarian Way, provided a perspective that we can truly identify with and has changed our life perspective. The thoughts and ideas shared in this book about how God wants us to live out our Christianity resonated with us. It has prompted us to change our perspective on our Christianity/spiritiuality and our purpose in life. We realize we are here, not to build financial wealth or store up material goods, but to do as much as we possibly can to impact others through Christ’s love. We have taken this to heart. In carrying this mission out, some of our choices may seem crazy, wild, or uncharacteristic. And in earlier years, we might agree. We have made a radical departure from our conservative path of being safe and remaining internally focused. Please understand, we are still being responsibly with our financial debt and we are putting forethought in what we are doing. But we have learned, grown and deepened our relationship with each other, God and our kids and feel we are doing what God is asking of us. We are allowing God to lead us into certain areas such as: adoption, Water is Basic, Sunday School, bible study, a trip to Sudan with the boys, and Parenting Alone to name a few.

As a reminder and encouragement to ourselves to stay on task with these beliefs and to not fall into the ‘safety net’, we have added some art to our body. Yes, a tattoo. The initial concept of this artwork, started with the various designations of a group of animals. For example, a pride of lions, a swarm of bees, a flock of birds, a committee of buzzards and a crash of rhinos. (A rhinoceros runs at 30 miles per hour but their eye sight only allows them to see 30 feet ahead.) I chose a barbaric type cross that is emerging outside of the box with the word crash underneath. To me this symbolizes God moving in and through me in an atypical way or new way. The word crash represents blind faith, as the rhino must have to survive. Gregg’s tattoo has a crash of rhinos overlapping a barbaric cross. The three rhinos represent God, Gregg and myself. God working through us while we crash.

Crash, baby, crash.

A Mess to a Dragonfly

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I feel like a mess.  Adrenaline pumping, tears welling up at a moments notice and patience thin.  What do I do, Jesus?  Why do I need to tell my parents and my children?  What good with it do?  I may be able to ‘go public’ with my story but doesn’t it create more harm than good?  So why do i feel the pressure to do it?  And HOW in the world do I share news like that?  I can’t do it without your guidance and support.  Are YOU prompting me or is this an external pressure?  I think I want to be able to stand with the other women.  But … a beautiful silver/gray dragonfly just landed on my computer and hasn’t moved.  The intricacy of it’s wings and tale and all is beautiful.  I looked up the meaning of this, as i have heard they have a spiritual meaning and this is what came up:

The dragonfly, in almost every part of the world symbolizes change and change in the perspective of self realization; and the kind of change that has its source in mental and emotional maturity and the understanding of the deeper meaning of life.

I can only think that this is from you, Jesus.  Transcending and transforming me to become who you meant me to be.  It moved spots and let me touch it.  I have never had this happen.

 dragonflies can travel between dimensions, and are messengers of dreams and illusions

Thank you, Jesus.  I feel a calm knowing that You have prompted me to share.  This is a part of my journey.  Please dear Jesus…continue to lead me.  Lead me to the time and the place.  Share with me the words.

It is NOT well with my Soul.

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It is NOT well with my Soul.

#MeToo

#WhyIDidn’tReport

There is an ugly secret from my past that keeps haunting me.  It’s not the actual act that haunts me.  It’s that I haven’t had the freedom to share.  The freedom to tell.  It has been almost 30 years (28 to be exact) and I still struggle with telling my parents.  Others know.  Not many though.

There is so much in the media right now.  Men are finally being held accountable for their behavior towards women.  Somewhat.  It seems a woman is not counted as a reliable source unless several come out.  There is so much shame attached rape.  Not on the part of the perpetrator but on the part of the victim.  I lived with that shame and guilt for many years before I got help.  And while i did get help, and i have resolved those feelings, the fact that I can’t discuss this with my family is hard.  The other part that is hard is having children.  I told the boys when they were in high school because I didn’t want them to be THAT guy.  And we are beginning to get close to the age I must tell the girls.  I don’t want them to fear intimacy but i do want them to be aware of the creeps out there.

My heart grieves for the women and families that are coming forward right now.  My heart grieves that i don’t feel like i can come forward.  My heart grieves for the next female that will be sexually assaulted.

My soul is not well…and My heart grieves.

 

 

It is right and good

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The liminal space I was in on the morning of September 4 quickly shifted the evening of September 4.  A scared, sweet little girl made her entrance into our lives around 10:30PM.  A 15 mo that has seen more transition than she should and felt more fear and uncertainty that needed.  The next few days we were reminded of the ‘aftermath’ of taking in a new foster.  A barrage of unexpected and very random ‘attacks’ on our family.  I used to get flustered and upset when this would happen, but now I know.  I know it’s satan trying to discourage us.  I know he doesn’t like what we are doing.

And I know that it makes us more resolved to continue caring for babies/kids in transition.  And it is right and good.

Just a sampling of the ‘attacks’…Gregg goes out of town for one night and the air conditioner quits in part of the house, the middle school closes at 1PM because the toilets don’t work, Reece runs a high fever and misses one day of school.  These are in addition to the new transitions we are already making with having a 1 yo in the house and the attention the new baby gets wherever we go.  (not Reece’s favorite) My time, which had been open and easy, becomes minimal and spent transporting and caring for another child. And while it is an adjustment for me, I know it is right and good. 

IMG_2490-1

Aaliyah has alot of walls up and has some co-dependency issues.  She is scared of most everyone especially if they are male.  If I am holding her, then most are ok for her to wave at and look at.  She has a nervous tick when a male comes around, a one shoulder shrug.  It’s adorable and sad.  She has seen too much and been safe too little.  We are closing in on 2 weeks of her being with our family and she is just starting to make giant strides.  She is dancing, laughing, and starting to feel the freedom of childhood.  She is sleeping in crib and waking up happy instead of crying.  She is learning new words and she is starting to push boundaries.  And I now it is right and good.

The Air of Change

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I love change…when I instigate it.

I love change…when I have helped process it.

I hate change…when I have no control over it.

I hate change…when it hurts my family.

I accept change…because life would be boring without it.

I accept change…because I rely on God.

The breeze started in early April and it is still blowing. It started with little things…I need to work more, Reece needing a shift in gymnastics and possibly school, Landen moving towards independence.  And then it got bigger….Gregg got laid off, Eli left for a relative and Thea turned 1.  None of these are bad things, in fact they are all good but they are not easy.  So many times we assume change is bad but the truth is that this spring and summer has been nothing but good change.  We have all grown emotionally, spiritually and collectively as a family.

I feel change as it’s occurring.  I can sense the shift in the air.  I am not sure when my ability to sense seasons of change began.  I am not sure if this is something everyone can do or not.  For me, I observe, almost from the outside or as if i’m watching a movie in slow motion.  I am in it but i can feel it and see it.  It’s not sudden, It’s slow shifts that you never thought would come but then all of the sudden you are witnessing them.  It’s hard for me to process when it happens.  I don’t know whether to appreciate it or fight against it.

A significant wind blew on the cruise this year.  There was a shift occurring in our immediate and extended family.  We were the parents of adults, children and a grandchild.  The princess crazed kid was not so interested this year, the pre-teen was done being at the ‘kid table’.  The adult kids were focused on survival with a baby.  The baby was excited for the freedom.  I became less interested in what we were doing and more interested in who I was with.  Gregg was the most relaxed he has ever been on a cruise due to his new found freedom.  And Alex.  He participated when he could but often had to rest.  My parents focused on his care and the visible decline of his body.

That same breeze that blew through in early April and in July is still blowing.  Change is happening.  See it? Landen started 7th grade at the new building.  Reece started 4th grade at Pinkerton.  Gregg has a new gig that allows him to work from home.  Mitch and Liz have decided to move to Tulsa.  And I am in slo-mo., watching the changes that come with time, that I have no control over.

Change:

to make different from what it is or from what it would be if left alone: to transform: to exchange for something else