Blessings still outweigh the Challenges

I woke with a start; I was being kicked in my bed! Coming to instant awareness, I realized it was Tom kicking me hard under the covers. In disbelief I yelled, "Tom, stop it!" His kicks landed directly on my left leg and although I was only kicked for a moment, it hurt! Tom woke up when I yelled at him to stop and became aware that he had been kicking me. He asked if I was ok and then explained details of a nightmare where I was kicking him, so in this dream, he was fighting back. He explained the dream was like a black cloud or ghost over his head and that I was kicking him! He claimed he was defending himself (in his dream) and apologized a number of times. He went back to sleep right away, I didn't. By the morning, after a mostly sleepless night, I was worried and scared. 

Why would this happen? He was sleeping. Is he capable of doing it again? Punching me? What about the weapons we have in our house? Would he reach for a gun or bat and use it in his sleep? I pondered these unthinkable thoughts on Sunday morning while my left leg ached from the thrashing it took in the night. I was hurt, mad, and scared. I showered and got ready for church. He walked the dog super early and got ready for his mid-morning nap. He asked me how I was feeling and apologized again. I told him my left leg hurt and I was very concerned. I expressed my thoughts about this kicking happening again, or maybe something worse. I told him I was scared, we argued, and I walked out the door for church at 8:20 am. 

We're getting older and there are issues we face, but we will face them together and do whatever we must. Tom is serious about his health and fending off the aging process. He rides his bike on his stationary trainer every day, with very few exceptions. He eats very healthy and documents all his food intake. He enjoys his bourbon, scotch, whiskey and wine, but rarely in excess. He's lean, strong and weighs nearly the same as when we got married. I can't claim that. But, I'm back on a "live it" style diet, walking everyday and much more motivated than I've been in ages. It's Sober October too, so there aren't any wine calories to report in my food diary. We know what to do, I just need to do it.

Later. on Sunday afternoon, I researched why someone would strike out in their sleep and found an illness called REM sleep behavior disorder. Although I sent Tom three links describing this disorder he didn't check them out. This restless (or should I say combative) sleeping is probably the least of our worries and I can happily say, of the issues we face, the blessings still outweigh the challenges. 

 

Our Bill Andrews Rose

When our landscaping project called for removing trees in our front yard, we planted a rose garden with one yellow rose bush among the red, white and pink roses. The yellow rose didn't thrive like the others. It shamelessly took its sweet time and stubbornly didn't produce roses. We watched and waited for it to bloom for many years, but it didn't.

A few years later we were struggling with the battle Tom's friend Bill Andrews was losing to cancer. While his health declined, we visited, we baked and delivered food, we shared books, cards, and conversations, but he was dying, and our sadness was overwhelming. On Sunday morning June 7th, 2015, Bill's wife called us with the grim news that if we wanted to see Bill one more time, we'd need to be there that day. We set our sights on getting out of the house quickly and driving the hour to Bill's home, where hospice was keeping him comfortable. We wanted to bring something to Bill and Stacy, something meaningful and lovely, something precious and comforting, but we didn't know what. While Tom finished getting ready, I walked to the rose garden and was greeted by one spectacular yellow rose. At that moment, I knew it was meant for Bill and Stacy. I clipped the rose, put it in a small vase and brought it to them as a gift of life in the midst of the sorrow. Now the yellow rose continues to bloom almost always near the time of Bill's death on June 8th. 

Willaim F Andrews was a true American hero and a man of great faith. His Air Force experiences are well documented, and he has been rightly honored in many ways. He was a great friend to Tom and incredible human being. I hope he's always remembered.  We'll always remember Bill and enjoy our Bill Andrews Rose. 

Hi Beautiful!

After a rough weekend and an old argument that resurfaced in our marriage, my husband and I were moving around our house like repelling magnets. When Sunday morning came, I wanted God to fix our troubles and fix me, starting with my heart. I wanted to be reminded how to love, forgive, and reconcile. I knew if I could just get to church, I’d be on the right track. So, I woke early, slipped on the clothes I’d left in a pile the night before along with the previous day's socks and tennis shoes. I ran a comb through my slightly greasy hair, brushed my teeth and cleaned last night’s mascara from around my eyes. I drove to church before 8 am and suddenly, there they were, the whole passel of overzealous, smiling greeters shaking all the church goers' hands too enthusiastically right outside the main entrance. I snickered sarcastically inside and imperceptibly shook my head. I wasn't finding a lot to be happy about and didn't feel like being greeted. Even in my grumpiness, the loud Christian music and the cheerful atmosphere started to soften my heart. I was beginning to feel the positive effects of the environment, but I purposely slipped behind the front door greeters near the main entrance and continued to walk the gauntlet towards the sanctuary reluctantly accepting well-meaning greetings and smiles.  I even shook a few outstretched hands. Inside of me there was deep sadness but inside the church there was palpable joy.  Although I was looking for healing, I was entrenched in my anger and actively resisting joy. But somehow among the many cheerful greeters, there was this one guy. He was maybe my age or a little younger, medium height, not necessarily in peak physical condition, but wearing a huge smile. He saw me coming and in a very ordinary, uncomplicated way, said, “Hi Beautiful!” I laughed out loud! He couldn’t be talking to me.

As I got closer, he reached his hand out to me. I tried to squelch my smirky grin, still amused at his "beautiful" comment. I was un-showered, unfriendly and uninterested in being greeted, but he had a sense of humor. I accepted his handshake and said, “You’re very funny, and thanks, I needed that this morning.” You see I was not and didn't feel beautiful in any capacity, but he was the hand of God reaching out to me. I don’t know who he is and couldn’t pick him out of a lineup, but he offered me exactly what I needed. Old age, marriage challenges, greasy hair, last night’s makeup and clothes, and my bitter attitude didn’t stop the love of God from reaching me this morning through a greeter who dared to say, “Hi Beautiful” to an older woman who felt unlovable and anything but beautiful. He was seeing each person who entered church as a child of God, fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalms 139:14 He was bringing God’s love to the church attendees and reaching people far from God. I’m so grateful.

 

The Ring

While it seemed we were always in a hurry, this particular morning, we were on schedule. Zach was safely in his car seat and our arrival in the drop off line of his 4-year-old pre-school would be right on time. I strapped myself in, started the Honda, put my hands on the steering wheel and prepared to back down the driveway. But something was off. Pausing to think, I looked at my hands and realized my wedding rings and birthstone ring were still on the kitchen windowsill where I left them after scrubbing the sink while our two sons ate breakfast. Andy was a second grader and had already joined his walking group to make his way to second grade at Orange Hunt Elementary School three blocks up the hill. Tom had left early that morning for the Johns’ Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies where he was working on his PhD. I needed to go get my rings.

I turned off the car and explained to Zach I was going to run back in the house and get my wedding ring. He said, “Okey Dokey” which was his normal affirmative response at the time. I was back in less than a minute with my rings on my hands and began again to back down the driveway. From the back seat I heard Zach’s sweet little voice say, “Good thing you got your rings, Mommy.” Curious about his thinking on the whole marriage concept I asked, “Why is that honey?” He said, “Without them, people wouldn’t know I was yours!”

At that moment I understood that his concept of marriage and family included permanence, ownership, belonging, safety, security, stability, and love. He wanted to be associated with me and I with him. My heart swelled. His little voice and big heart offered insight into his love for us as his family. That wedding ring connected us all for now and forever.