Tough to explain

I am so glad my mom is here. We had a safe, mildly stressful journey. The stress was luckily not with each other, but just with mild external stressors that can't be avoided. Truck is now unpacked. We will do lots of unpacking tomorrow. Looking forward to getting Christmas decorations up.

Keeping this as short as I can given I am exhausted. I have my dad's pillow on my bed now. I have his hand made outdoor plant stand and tv stand. And, I have his wife, my mom. I have always had her, but now, I don't have him. We have reminders of his life, but we don't have him. Because my mom and dad haven't lived near me for the past 19 years, his absence was not realized in my day to day existence. But, now, it seems so much more real. I touched the places that he touched, and now, I have the reminder of who he is in the tangible presence of my mother and his things.

I will be taking time to come to grips with his loss in a way that I haven't been faced with before. In this loss, I am reminded of many other losses, both in the distant and more recent past. I miss my friends, my family, and the security of what I knew. Don't get me wrong, I am so very thankful for the blessings of this new home, and the love I feel so strongly from my friends and the people who have so generously accepted me. I grieve the lost relationships and connections that existed before I moved. Most recently, I experienced a brokenness in a relationship that forced me to realize, again, nothing is certain. Sometimes relationships serve a purpose temporarily, and once the need has passed, the friendship is over. Sometimes, relationships run a course, and then their purpose changes. Sometimes, the pain perpetrated between two people can be so intense that the the brokenness is irreparable.

The comfort tonight is there is redemption and reconciliation in God's time. I have been witness to this great blessing, so I will trust and believe in this hope. If not in this lifetime, in the life to come. Tonight, I will rest knowing that my mom is close and that hasn't been a privilege I have been able to experience in almost 20 years. She is a comfort and I am blessed to be given this gift.

Oh Grandpa, I am not ready

I have avoided writing about my grandfather, because...I just don't know what to say. He is 90+ years old. My cousin emailed us this evening that he is coming to grips with leaving us. "I am ready" are the words that came out of his mouth yesterday when my cousin was with him. My grandmother passed away on Mother's Day, 1997. She struggled with Alzheimer's Disease for years leading up to her death. Rather, my grandfather struggled with the Alzheimer's Disease. So now, 13 years later, he is walking towards his destiny with our Lord.

I am not ready to say goodbye again. I know he is ready. He has good reason to be ready. Father to 3 children, 14 grandchildren, 30+ great grandchildren, and 2 (almost 3) great grandchildren; my grandfather, Brayton, has been a busy man. He was married to my grandmother, Miriam, for over 50 years. He was and is fully devoted to his beloved wife. I am too far removed to know the inner workings of their family life. How they raised their kids, struggled with finances, illness, death, life, frustrations, unemployment, disappointments, their faith, their neighbors (I remember Mrs. Lee and driving up to my grandparents house and seeing the lilly of the valley that lined the side of their house. And, there, Mrs. Lee, would be waving a hello to all of us.), I don't know the details. What I remember, what I understand, is who he gave me.

It would be easy for me to thank my grandparents for my dad, and I most certainly do. I also thank them for my aunt and uncle. They were all shaped by my grandparents. So they are the ones to blame! I say that jokingly, and realistically. My grandparents have quite a legacy to own. I wish I had been a fly on the wall growing up with Miriam and Brayton as parents. Many have said that my grandmother was volatile. Is that a fair description, family? Volatile? I think now-a-days we call that, manic depressive or bi-polar. Just saying, not trying to be offensive. I resemble those remarks quite a lot. My grandfather might have been described as stern, strict, and stubborn. Now-a-days, I think we call that, abusive. I am kind of laughing, and kind of crying. Mostly I am afraid that my cousins and siblings will come after me, since they too might be walking through the genetic mine field of the Deal line, responsible for bi-polar abusers. (Before all the Deals start sending me hate mail, please know that I will begin saying kind things about grandma and grandpa, and about you too.)

Despite the potential dangers I would be subjected to if I were a fly on the wall in the Deal house, I proudly acknowledge that I am a descendant of this crazy clan. My grandmother was known for her fried chicken, potato salad and deviled eggs. Some of us remember the amazing get-togethers at my grandparent's house. Their eat-in kitchen had a huge map on the wall. It was awesome. Their living room had several glass candy jars with lemon drops and cinnamon drops that were sometimes stuck together because the humidity in Indiana just couldn't be fought. Their basement was the wine making capital of Indiana, or maybe just Marion County, or maybe, just of our family. As time went on, and my grandmother fell further and further into her disease, she either forgot she had already added ingredients while cooking, or couldn't remember what the food was supposed to taste like. Everything became so salty. None of us had the heart to tell her it was salty, but wow, good thing they had some wine on hand to subdue the natives from telling grandma that her fried chicken wasn't edible. Or, maybe we were just all excited that she had made a lemon meringue pie for dessert and we would all have that sweet treat to counteract the salt.

Most of us Deals are not known for our subtlety. I loved telling grandpa how I had told my English teacher that I wasn't going to do anymore "busy work". If she couldn't be creative enough to give me something challenging to work on, then I would be better suited in the music room, or in study hall. She escorted me to the hall, and gave me a pass to the music room. She also requested that I not openly defy her again. But, that I wouldn't have to do the busy work. SCORE!!!!! Grandpa was proud of my forthright discussion with this teacher. I think he was proud of each of his grandchildren for having minds of their own. Each unique, each contrary at times, but each was a Deal, through and through.

The Deal trait that I am most proud to carry on, is loyalty. My grandfather was and is fiercely loyal. He stood by his wife; caring for her, feeding her, protecting her, and loving her until the day she died, and even beyond that. His love and commitment to his wife, to his kids, to each of us, is undeniable and worthy of recognition and reward. To be loved by a Deal is to have a partner in life, no matter what, and even if. Grandpa's relationship with grandma was the picture of loyalty and love that we can each only pray to experience in our lifetime. For each moment that we have been saddened by grandpa's choice to hide from life, to give up and let go after grandma died; we must also acknowledge his fierce and unyielding commitment to loving and caring for her, and through that, for each of us all the days of his life. His broken heart was so intense because he had given it all to his family, his wife, his sons, his daughter. I can only imagine that he had just enough energy to breathe in and out for these past 13 years since she died. He had given his all, his everything to her, and into teaching us what it meant to love unconditionally.

I could give you story after story about the memories I have of grandpa, and I guess that is what we have to look forward to when Grandpa does get to go and be with his wife, and with his parents, and most importantly, with his God. We will be able to rejoice in his wholeness. We will be able to see him as a complete person again. Moving out of fear and sadness because of the loss of the man we so wanted him to be, we will be able to put his life in the perspective of its entirety. He loved his family with all he had and all he was. His heart broke beyond recognition upon losing the wife who had given him over 50 years of ups and downs, rages and rewards, battles and blessings. He was a man, with all the flaws that we can all relate. Grandpa's life stands as a mirror to our own. We have to look into the life he walked before us and decide if we will be able to give to others, while accepting defeats that are inevitable. And, we each will be faced with how we will move forward without those we love. I suppose we all fear at sometime in our life that we will lose ourselves and forsake who we have for who we've lost. I can only assume that our grandfather would ask us to look into his life and make the choice to move forward; acknowledging the vulnerabilities of our heritage and gaining strength from one another. I am not ready to look into the mirror yet, but I am willing to give and receive strength from the family and friends that God has given me at this time in my life.

Loss

Today's thanksgiving offerings were sponsored by the letter "L". So many great and wonderful things I appreciate start with the letter "L". I pondered and contemplated contributing the word "Loss" to the list, but couldn't bring myself to add it. It's hard to be grateful for something that perpetrates such intense pain and suffering.

Somethings we celebrate losing. Weight would be a great thing to lose. Losing a dress size, losing a tooth (depending on the reliability of the tooth fairy)are other beneficial losses. However, some losses don't reap such positive results. From personal experience, I can attest to the fact that losing my "cool", my "temper"...not so good. Losing sanity, losing control, losing a softball game, losing a contest, losing a deal; these losses are negative. Though unpleasant, they are generally temporary, painless, and short-term. But, we all know the kind of losses that break hearts, last forever, and leave scars that are anything but short-term.

The loss of family and friends; through death, separation, or circumstances stings and destroys. Though the initial pain of loss leaves an indelible mark on the soul; it's the continued infliction of pain from realizing lost moments, experiences, and realities that hinder the wound from healing. Even as time goes on, and distance separates the living from the lost; a remembrance, a glimpse, a recollection, an inopportune trigger can flood the senses with the pain and suffering all over again. One would think with scar tissue building around the brokenness in the soul, the pain would diminish, the hurt would be less intense. Unfortunately, I have yet to experience that.

My heart breaks for my mom, my friends, my siblings, and my family who will feel the sting of loss triggered by the unrealized moments of this holiday season. I want to make it feel better, to feel easier, and less intense for those I love. But, I too, find my heart struggling to come to grips losses. When I step into that place, where my mind ponders the "what ifs...", I am lost too. Loss visits and takes me on a journey away from where I am. Sometimes, this is a welcome vacation. I know that sounds selfish. I have been given great gifts for which I am very thankful. There is no reason to wander from my present into the world of unknown "what ifs...". But, often times, it's not the unrealized moments that we visit. Loss and I revisit the past experiences that shaped my heart and made me who I am.

I can feel the warmth of looking into the eyes of my dad and knowing that he sacrificed, struggled, and even made terribly stupid decisions on behalf of our family. It feels good to remember the moments of laughter and great joy experienced with a friend with whom I no longer get to share. There is unexpected refreshment that comes from abiding in the places in my heart that are safe, known, and full of life; even if it is the life that is lost. But, the times when loss visits and takes me into the painful regions of the unknown, I feel the wounds bleed. Scabs are cracked and the tender areas of my soul break open. There, loss and I grapple with one another in an effort to stop the pain and bleeding.

I wish I knew how to protect my friends and family from loss. I wish I knew the direction to journey to bring healing and respite from the suffering. I wish I knew how to keep my own heart and mind from walking into the darkness with loss. Avoidance doesn't seem to be the answer. So, I will pray the moments that come, with its triggers that threaten to open the fresh wounds, and the scar tissue of old wounds, will offer some unexpected joy or peace. I suppose that is the gift that "loss" can offer. It allows our hearts to relive the moments that have shaped us, even as we experience the pain of not getting to know of what could have been for those we love and for ourselves. Even as loss steals the potential of relationships and experiences, it can never take who we are because of who God shared with us. I pray living in thanks for the lives that crossed our paths and left light and love will strengthen the muscles of our heart and mind to endure the pain that comes with living in the "here and now"; with all its unexpected triggers that lead to journeys with loss that will continue to open wounds.

Dear friend, my prayer for us today is that the God whose strength and comfort surpasses our understanding and comprehension will abide so fully in our hearts that the pain of loss will bring forth tears of joy as we remember those who so enriched our lives. May the tears that fall fresh, nurture our soul with healing memories and unexpected joys only offered through the remembrance of love shared through moments with our loved ones. May the God of hope open our eyes to see the blessings that can never be stolen or lost. I trust that You, O Lord, will give to each of us the very portion needed to soothe our broken hearts and strengthen our souls for the moments to come. I thank you in advance for the moments that are yet to come when we will experience Your great goodness through our loss. Thank you Jesus.

La, la, la, la, la...

I have typed 2 blogs in the past 2 days. Each one I left incomplete, and then I shut my computer down and they were lost. I imagine they were not been to be in print, but I am frustrated that I didn't save them. So, I will start fresh, with a new thought, a new question with which to grapple.

Ummmmm...I got nothin'.

Really, absolutely nothing. Sometimes I have so many thoughts running through my head that I can't keep them straight or make any sense of them. But, today, nothing. The lyrics from "Anything You Can Do" from Annie Get Your Gun have run through my head non-stop as I was performing at a fundraiser with the Awesome Heather Baker this evening. Despite the fact that the lyrics ran through my head, unceasingly, I still was able to mutilate the song with random brain freezes and lack of focus. Now that the performance is over, I have nothing. Well, I do keep replaying the mistakes in my head. Why did I not sing, "I tell you, Yes, Yes, Yes, I can."? From that moment on, I felt completely dazed. The mistakes we make in one moment; whether observed, acknowledged, or criticized by others, have the potential of distracting and debilitating interaction with the here and now.

Even when I am able to forgive myself for not doing things right; saying words that build instead of break, giving looks that scare and instead of steady; I find my thoughts lingering in the past, giving credence to the ugliness that I desperately want transformed into beauty. Grace so freely and abundantly offered to me through the generosity of dear friends, the love of my family, and the omnipotence of God, can be rejected and rebuked in the blink of an eye.

Sometimes, when I blink, I am able to stay off the backtracking that leads me into paths of destruction of my ego and identity. My identity is built on the love and manifestation of God in me. I know His love, His grace, His hope, and His truth. Each abides within, and each stands guard against the darkness. Sometimes, however, it's easier to open the door and let the sadness and fear wander the halls of my soul. Do you ever feel like that? It shouldn't be easier to live in the brokenness of the past. But, it's what I know. In order to let God reside and reign in my heart and mind, I have to intentionally resign the control to Him. That's what takes the energy, that is the hard part.

For not having any thoughts going through my mind, I sure got heavy there. I am disappointed I made mistakes when I was singing tonight. I am disappointed and sorry I have caused pain, sadness, and distance in some relationships in my life. Each day that passes I have to choose to give God control. Not only do I have to give Him control over my here and now, but of my past, and of my future. So, here's my vow...I will practice harder, and be more focused the next time I stand in front of anyone to sing. I will also thank God for residing in my heart and always seeking me out, no matter where I am in my mind. He always opens the door when I knock. He always forgives, always accepts, and always loves. ALWAYS!

Rosie Ramblings

1. My daughter is a great cook. She made us a pizza, from scratch, dough and all when she was 8. All by herself she made the sauce, and properly assembled the pizza. She even added seasoning the crust that was not included in the recipe. Amazing. However, I just had to go help her make macaroni and cheese, from the box. Really?

2. Privacy signs are helpful. Stayed at a hotel last night and stood for a few moments pondering the "Please do not disturb" sign hanging on the door. Wouldn't it be nice to have one of those that you could tie around your neck when you were having one of "those" days?

3. Some people are a gluttons for punishment. You know those folks? The ones that keep doing the same thing, the result stays the same, and it is always unpleasant. Yet, the perpetrator keeps returning to the scene of the crime thinking the outcome will be different. No matter what is said, no amount of advice offered, or suffering endured, they will continue down the path of pain. OK, I will admit, I may be one of "those" people. Somebody please smack me!

4. No matter how wonderful the voice, no soprano sounds good on Brahms' Von Ewige Liebe after hearing it 75 times. I know this as a fact, from personal experience.

5. I like fancy pants. They make me feel good.

6. I miss my family. They are celebrating my cousin Lori's 25th wedding anniversary. The whole family is there. I contributed a song, which should be super hilarious since it is Shania Twain's "You're Still the One". If you know me, you know this song choice is at best a stretch and at worst, totally inappropriate. I do not carry that style very well. I really did try, and I am trying to not fixate on the laughter that will erupt when my siblings see the video. My cousins will forgive and forget (I hope and pray). But, my siblings will harass me until the day I die. And, yes, even David, the adopted brother who is celebrating with my family, will make fun of me. They will mimic my singing and will make fun of the way I look while I am singing. Let me correct myself, they will make fun of the way I look when I am not singing. Silly grin, trying to look like I am a cool country singer when I am really a refined (hahaha!) opera singer. So, maybe I should be glad that I am not there. But, nope, I still miss them and wish I was there laughing and crying with the whole Deal clan.

7. I talk too much and often have nothing to say. I know this is true. The rantings and ramblings of Rosie often provide very little content to the existence of each day. But as pointed out in #3, I am a glutton for punishment and I am willing to make everyone suffer along with me. Sorry! It's the price you pay of knowing and loving me.

8. 6 Months ago today, my dad died. Enough said.

9. Feet stink. Am I wrong?

10. Bedtime is the most welcome and the most dreaded time of the day. I love the fact that I get to lay in bed, under the covers, warm, cozy. But, I dread what thoughts will come as I drift off to sleep. Though my sleep patterns have become much more consistent, (thanks to strong drugs), I still dread the darkness that creeps into my mind and soul when sleep evades me. I know there are times that God must wrestle with me through the night. But, the darkness is inherently dangerous and threatening. When I can't see what is coming, and I don't know where to go or whose hand to hold; I must face my God and reconcile the heart that I have tried to withhold and hide from Him. But, the light does come in the morning. And the same God who meets me in the darkness is the God that brings the light.