I just wanna vent. My mom was 40 when I was born. When I was 34, I moved to Florida from Utah at the same time my mom’s home was blown away in a hurricane. She came to live with me. She was 74 by then, and I discovered that her resiliancy had been greatly diminished by having her whole neighborhood wiped off the map, along with her age and the accumulation of a life time of experiences and challenges. She had always bounced back before, but that time, it really was too profound of a “blow” (no pun intended) for her to ever really recover. If I had understood that in essence, she was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder and in a serious depression, I might have guided her to get some mental health care that may have helped. Ten years later, we DID get her into a wonderful program, but she was in the final stages of leukemia, so she only got the benefit of it for a few short months before passing away.
I’m only 50, but I am feeling the effects of age on me that aren’t a lot of fun to admit. The trauma I have gone through in the past few months with a divorce and the death of my business partner, and, the loss of my pet as part of the divorce, is really taking its toll on me. I am finding change more jarring and upsetting than it ever was in the past. And my brain seems very reluctant to adapt.
Mommy withdrew from living after losing her home, her yard, her belongings, her friends, her routine, all her social life when Andrew roared through Homestead. So after that, she pretty much gave up on investing in anything at all. Why invest when you could lose it all? Not that she didn’t get a fine insurance check, but I’m not talking about money, I’m talking about love. She loved her life. And then it was all gone. Money can’t buy it back. And she no longer had the will to ever try again.
So I’m watching myself - checking in to see how I am handling the trauma of 2008. It all happened so fast. I filed for divorce on November 21, and it was final on December 22. Even though it was my decision that I made after an extended period of consideration, the way it ended was so jarring and upsetting. And before I can say BOO - all my pals are inviting me to the “singles” stuff I used to get involved with before my four year (second) marriage. And I am not liking that. I don’t want that. I pretend I’m ok with it, but I’m not really. I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want to be part of the single scene. I feel very displaced.
Tim’s death - I’ve been thinking about that. Just from my very selfish perspective, it seems like it came after my divorce - but, surely nothing happens by chance . . . surely it was not a surprise to God when Tim died - and so, maybe it was really the other way around. Maybe it was important for me to get divorced because Tim was going to die. Tim dying while my marriage was still in tact - that may have been not a good thing, it could have been very complicated legally. I was dragging my feet, I couldn’t make up my mind or act on my decisions - but something happened and suddenly I was able to make a swift decision, and just in time, maybe, so that it would not get messy when Tim died.
The details are not important, but this situation illustrates how intricate is the weaving of all our lives. It boggles my mind how all the threads are perfectly known and woven with care by the omniscient weaver. What all was involved and what lies ahead - only He knows, but He DOES know.
I’ve had the hardest time with losing our little puppy, Joe. I told my husband to take him because he bought Joe and loved that dog like he seems unable to love people. But no sooner had I told him that than I had second and third and fourth thoughts. And once they were both gone, I found myself missing Joe more than I ever dreamed. Animal control in distant cities have called me twice so far saying Joe has been turned in as a stray. That is like a knife in my heart - and I am beside myself with despair over that little dog - I would have driven 800 miles for him - but he had already been retrieved both times.
Well, two days ago I looked up the humane society online and got a different website for adopting dogs in Utah, and found that there were little Maltese dogs nearby needing a home for a price I could afford. I immediately hopped in my car and drove an hour and a half to a pet store where one rescued doggy was up for adoption that day. I determined I would not go home without a dog. So I found this little girl about the same age as Joe - and I adopted her. She is a mix - no idea what the other breed is - and it was hard - I kept noticing all the ways she was not like Joe. Funny how all his annoying behaviors and characteristics now seemed precious to me, nigh unto perfection, so anything different seemed a flaw to me. Can I love this little girl with longer legs, a longer snout, and a gold streak down her back? She made short order of loving me! Oh, it would be nice if we could love so easily as little doggies.
I am very emotional these days. I think I’d sort of shut down emotionally in the past year and a half because the feelings that were hovering just below the surface were so not fun and I didn’t feel safe expressing them. So now, they are starting to come out. It makes it hard to work and go to church when I feel so emotionally fragile. But I have a lot of support. And for that I am so grateful. I’ve got family and friends and my ward - a good strong support system so no one of them has to bear too much of my neediness right now.
And then there is this invitation - to find my companionship in the Savior. He isn’t loud and insistant - but everyonceinawhile I feel a gentle reminder that he is right here - he’ll talk anytime - and I fall asleep before He does. He’ll go to the store with me, or walk the dog with me, or go to the pool with me, look at the stars with me . . . I’ve never needed to feel alone, and this time around, maybe I’ll get it - and take advantage of the offer that was always there. He looketh upon the heart.
Not like me - though I am losing my eyesight a little at a time, my eyes still are VERY capable of playing tricks on me. My brain seems rigid and this old dog finds it hard to learn new tricks.
~Debra
