It's Not You, It's Me...

It's not Sam's fault that we're staying in California, it's mine. It isn't about him not wanting to look for a different job, or him feeling safe staying in one place. It isn't about where he wants to get his masters degree. He's flexible. He wouldn't mind the East Coast too much, it's closer to his parents and he would get to have snow, lightning storms, and fireflies. No, it's me, me... me... me... I SAY I'm ready to leave, I even get excited about it. I make plans and mentally pack my bags. But then I start to fall apart, little by little, piece by piece. And there's Sam watching it happen, every time. I'm already off kilter enough, but throw in the thought of saying goodbye to the otters at the aquarium and I'm a complete disaster. I insist that I can handle it, I say that there's a difference between being willing and being ready. Sam knows me better than that, better than I sometimes know myself. I would do anything for my family, give up everything. I guess Sam is too. So, he signed up to go to school here, then he worked towards a higher position at work, making it seem as though we couldn't possibly leave just yet. My heart sinks for a moment because it is my sister that is on the other side of the country, the [other] person that I should be having my morning coffee with. The person I vowed [as a child] to always be close to. At the same moment, though, the hysteria lifts and I feel I can breath [the air blowing in from the Pacific] again. I'm sorry that I made promises, and I'm sorry that I really thought I could actually do it (because I really did, really, really). I guess that when home becomes HOME then leaving becomes [nearly] impossible.

WMD

What's your weapon of mass destruction? The phone? E-mail? Facebook? Maybe you do it face to face, but that's old school. Why would I tell you how I feel when I can just be vague about it in my status update. Or maybe I'll save all my vicious comebacks for a strongly worded e-mail, mom can back me up on that one. How will you destroy your valuable time today? Will you ponder all of the hurtful things ever said to you? Can you change any of that now? What if you wrote it all down, kept track of it, well documented history of mass destruction. Will that change how things are now? What will the back lash be? What will your Gulf War look like? Never ending. Or maybe it will be more like the Cold War, we didn't send anyone in but there was plenty of blood spilled. How will I cope with the Weapons of Mass Destruction that surround me? Bunker down in my fox hole? Retreat? Take up arms? What if it's not my war, do I fight back just because I'm caught in the cross fire? What if I'm not alone in the cross fire? What if half of all the people I love are there in the middle with me? Bleeding and in pain. Destruction. Maybe I'll be Gandhi. Or Switzerland. I'll let this be my weapon of mass destruction today, I'll let these words ruin my day. Maybe tomorrow I'll use the phone, a strongly worded text message.

TEND YOUR OWN GARDEN

Marriage is a challenge and there are many lessons to learn. One thing that I've learned from my own marriage is to take accountability from the choices I make and to not blame Sam for them. I figured I would share my favorite story about this that has become a huge metaphor about life's choices for me. I tagged all my married friends so they could share the love.

My in-laws Sam and Sande live in Ohio and have been married for over 30 years. They have had their ups and downs and have certainly mastered many things about being married. But there are a few things that still need to be learned.

Every year Sam plants a huge vegetable garden: lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, corn, potatoes, onions, cucumbers, you name it he plants it. And every year Sande gets upset at the huge garden he plants because she ends up taking care of it. She resents him for being "forced" to tend his garden. One year as I was once again hearing the complaints about all the hard work I suggested to Sande that she merely stop taking care of it. She was shocked by the idea of it. She believed that if she didn't take care of it it would be overtaken by weeds and the veggies would rot in the ground. "So what if it did? What would you rather have a rotting garden or a lifetime of resentment towards your husband?" I'm not sure she understood the question. It isn't his fault for planting the garden, it's her choice to take care of it. How can she blame him for her choices? If she were to simply stop tending his garden he would have to face the consequences of planting that huge garden: take care of it himself or watch it die. Perhaps if Sam were allowed to tend his own garden he would choose not to plant one next year, or at least a smaller one.

So how does this apply to my marriage (or yours)? What choices have I made that I resent Sam (my Sam) for? How will I make different choices? I love him and the last thing I want to do is to resent him, to have anger towards him. I cannot change him. I cannot force him to stop planting his "garden" I can only choose to not tend it for him. I can only control the change that is within me. I hold the key to my own life, no one else.

So what are the choices you have made? And are you tending your own "garden"? One year of spoiled crops is a fair exchange for a lifetime of a happy marriage.

NOTHING LEFT

I have no humor left today, no wit, no jokes. I have nothing clever to say. My body is full of sadness. There is no cure, no remedy, no answer - no hope for Sam. He's not dying, but he suffers and the thought of living a long life adds to the pain. The doctor looked at us with pity because he knows he is helpless to our plight. "There is nothing more and this is your life" were not the words he used, but he didn't need to, his eyes said it for him. I don't want to cry in the doctors office, it's pathetic, but it can't be helped. I don't want to come home and cry, that also cannot be helped. Sam goes on with his day and I try to go on with mine even though the hope has been scooped out of my soul. Will people see the empty place? Will it show in my eyes? Can we hide it from Gabriel? Can we hide it from ourselves. We will carry on - making dinner, doing the dishes, reading stories, watching TV - everything as it usually is. He will silently suffer and I will pretend that we are normal. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week I will wake-up and believe once again that somewhere someone has an answer. But today I have nothing left, nothing.

FOR GABRIEL

There are so many things that I could be doing with my life. I am awesome and capable of great, amazing and wonderful things. I bet I could solve one of the worlds big problems, or at least convince people to get along better. I could run my own company and make a billion dollars. I could conquer the world. But right now I am hugging you. I am hugging you because it is huggie time. Because you just woke-up. Because you were close enough for me to grab and give hugs to. Right now I'm hugging you with everything I've got because you are sad, or mad, or hurt, or tired. I could be giving an interview to Time or National Geographic but instead I am here with hugs just for you. Why do I sacrifice all of this greatness within me? Why do I deprive the world of my awesomeness? You might not know the truth, but I do. Someday, hopefully a very long time from now, there won't be endless hugs. Someday I will look for those hugs and they won't be here. In fact, the truth is that there might come a time when I would have gone a whole year without the same ammount of hugs that I can now get in one day. So I will put off fame, fortune and changing the world so that I can bank something more importaint and rare. Something that will only be avalable for a limited time. Your hugs. Your sweet, all encompassing, full body, whole heart, whole soul hugs.
I love you and I love you and I love you...Mama

FIVE YEARS AGO YESTERDAY EVERYTHING WAS FINE.

I'm thinking about life five years ago today. What were we doing? Where were we? I was holding your hand. You brought books on brewing beer to read, so silly. They told me to go get you a sandwich out of the machine in case you went low. What? Awesome health care, guys, really. ICU, I ignored the rules and stayed by your side. All those tubes, all those beeps, all that hunger. Test after test after test. Your folks came and tried to hide their panic. We had insulin figured out before the nurse tried to describe it to us. I feel gratitude for our common sense. You are released, we go to the book store, we go out to eat. That moment it starts, that moment you felt it whole. Life begins on a roller coaster built for two. We have weathered the storms, even if we come out tattered. We have held on to each other, sometimes not as tight as we should and others too tight. It hasn't been perfect, there has been so much pain and so much heart break. So much should not be asked of two people. Such a heavy load to bear. So much taken away five years ago, so much lost. I do it for you because my love has not stopped (despite forces working against it). Because my passion for your happiness is endless. Rivers and blankets of tears have flowed through me. My heart has ached ceaselessly. We continue to go on everyday in our rehearsed normalcy as if we are not both in great pain longing for the other side of five years ago. I will hold your hand and your heart for as long as you let me. I will take care of you and put up with you for the rest of your life. I am sorry that I'm not better at it, I'm sorry that..... We should be brewing our own beer right now.

F*ck Off Phil!

Seriously why do I have a cat named Phil that lives in my house? What does he do? He's a G-damn professional napper and class A moocher. Has he NO concept of personal space? Can't he take an effing hint? We let Gabriel harass the crap right out of him. Sam chases him around with the vacuum and I barely tolerate his presence. I resent all the hair. That damn hair that I clean up every freakin' day from every freakin' place including my damn ass crack! G-damn cat. I'm sitting here typing you a hate letter and you have the audacity to rub yourself on MY computer for love and comfort. You are so in my space. If you were any closer to me we would bond molecularly. Why on earth do you want to get your ten minutes of affectioin you requre per day from ME?!?!?! There are other people in this house, and lot's of stuffed things for you to intermingle with. So step the fuck off Phil, it's been a hell of a coulpe of weeks and your need for a good petting isn't even on my list.