I have not blahgged in a while. I suspect you noticed. Well, at least my mom did. (Hi Mom!) I have a lot of good reasons for this, mostly though, my lap top is broken so writing feels very much like I’ve been naughty and have to sit in the corner. In the old days, back before my lap top was broken, I could write anywhere I had a lap, which by the way, is becoming more visible with each passing dessert. (As in, I am passing on dessert).
I think lately, I’ve just been taking some time off to have a me. I’ve been a mom for 20 years (and counting). My oldest son just celebrated his 20th and I was disappointed that there was no gold watch presented to me. There was hardly any mention of my years of faithful service. In fact, we had to chase him down and force him to celebrate himself with us between working on his car and working on a computer. He has 2 jobs and college night classes and private computer clients (I know what you’re thinking. No, I am not one of them. The cobbler’s mother has no shoes). He also volunteers at the church and maintains a girlfriend who lives 6 hours away at UCLA. In short – he has a life.
I feel betrayed. How dare he grow up and do exactly what I have been preparing him for! How dare he grow up and make something of himself! What about ME?
And that, my friends is precisely the question I have been answering the past couple of months. It is punctuated by my consternation over the passing of two very sweet and perfectly obedient women friends of mine. I know this is silly but since they were both my age, both wives, both mothers, I am sort of connecting dots that have no business connecting. I have all of the same symptoms. I’m a wife, mother and in my 40’s! These women were so similar to each other in their sweetness, other-centeredness, gentle, Christian submission and both packed the huge room where they were celebrated for having been alive. (I guess that’s when people celebrate us, after we retire. I wonder if they got watches).
I seem to be connecting some other strange dots as you can see. Though their cause of death was not the same, I tend to think it was. I know it's crazy, but I tend to think they both died of niceness. I am someone who has spent a whole life time learning how to be nicer and beating myself up for the parts that aren’t nice. If you know me well and don’t think I am nice, well, I guess that speaks to how I would be without the effort! In my world view nice is not optional.
So, now I am just exploring the alternatives to nice. I have done strange things like going to see Dream Girls by myself when I had lots of other offers and it would have been nice to accept them. I have excused myself from family functions to work out. I have been announcing my intentions to the family instead of asking permission. And I have been reading and writing with a pen and notebook instead of making these liquid whims into a solid statement by putting them out there in blahgville (in case they aren't very nice).
Oh and I went to
And I guess that brings me full circle. I have written before comparing heaven to
Or maybe death is more like life and we are all just wriggling and working our way to heaven even while we scream to stay put. Maybe this outrage I feel at these two nice women who are in “Disneyland” already, and my own wrestling with the mortal parts of me are all just evidence that I lack faith. Maybe I need to dust off the stuffed Pooh and let my imagination take me to a place where the beautiful stuffed Pooh is a dime a dozen in the Gift Shop compared to the magic around it. In other words, this great stuff we cling to for comfort and meaning is just another item in the gift shop of heaven.
So you see, that is where my mind has been lately so that is why I have not felt much like sharing it. It’s not nice to talk about death. Then again, I’m not so sure nice is nice anymore.
Ok, I promise, I’ll start blahgging more regularly again,
and my next blahg won’t be so heavy or morbid. (Hey, does that make this entry morbidly obese?)
Oh and no, I am not wearing all black and smoking long skinny
cigarettes. I've been singing and teaching and friending and all the
other important gerunds that qualify me as functional. This is just
the stuff between the lines I've been doing (oh dear god, that sentence
sounds like I am snorting lines of heroin or something). Said another
way, this is just some of the stuff I've been thinking while doing the
stuff I've been doing while waiting in line for "Disneyland".