Cherie's Thinking Again

Thoughts, Stories, Observations and Ideas by a Mother of Adults

Saturday, August 08, 2009

Alone


Kelly brushed the strands of hair from her eyes. She closed the dishwasher and punched the buttons to start the cycle. Taking the wet cloth, she wiped the counter until it was smooth. Her three babies were asleep and it was finally time to relax.

She turned off the kitchen light and made her way into the darkened living room. Something squeaked underfoot as she stepped on one of Trevor's toys. Wearily, she bent over and scooped up the yellow duck. It was the smallest size she could find, but she remembered the yellow duck she had as a girl, probably three times larger. Times were too hard to get a decent toy. The thought made her grimace.

She looked at the clock. Jerry wouldn't be home for another three hours. She hated the evening shift. It meant that she was alone every evening once the kids went to bed. Alone until midnight, when she was too tired to tell him about her day. It felt like they were casual acquaintances sharing a small part of life together. She loved him. If she didn't, maybe it would be easier.

She turned on the television and began to flip through her favorite channels. A commercial came on, something by the safety council about children drowning. Her breath caught in her throat and her stomach turned over. Without thinking, she jumped up from the couch and hurried to the bedrooms.

Kelly carefully opened the door to her daughters room. Tessa was asleep on her bed with her arm casually thrown over the pillow. Nina had left the bed and was cuddled up asleep with her stuffed animals on the floor. Kelly gently scooped up her three year old baby and placed her next to her older sister. It didn't matter that there were two beds in the room, Nina hated sleeping alone. Her big sister rarely woke when Nina joined her. That was something to be thankful for anyway.

Kelly brushed away a tear as she looked at her little girls. It had been so long since she had watched them sleep. She used to stay by their bed every night just to feel that tenderness that comes in the quiet. She loved them so much and she couldn't imagine life without them.

She checked the window to be sure it was latched and then quietly slipped out of the room and softly closed the door. Unlike the girls, Trevor's door was slightly ajar. She was always afraid that she wouldn't hear him cry. He was a little over a year and the most calm of all her little ones. He'd give a few cries, and then put his thumb into his mouth to soothe himself until she came. She tried to come quickly. Once she had thoughtlessly closed the door and later found him asleep with his thumb in his mouth and tear stains down his cheek. She didn't even know that it was possible for a baby to cry so quietly that he could go unnoticed. She never again closed the door when he slept.

Creeping to his crib, she gazed on his chubby round face framed by his curls. They were so blond that they seemed to shine in the dim light. She stood there until her eyes adjusted to the light and watched his breathing, not daring to wake him, but not willing to leave until she was sure.

Back in her small living room, she looked at the clock. That entire trip ate up less than five minutes. She turned off the television and rocked slowly in the dark. Her hand reached for the phone but stopped short of picking it up. They had disconnected it last month when they had switched to a single cell phone. As usual, Jerry had the phone. There was no choice, really, as he needed it for work. But Kelly's loneliness had dramatically increased since they'd dropped the home line.

She chided herself. Everybody has lonely moments. It just felt like her moments had stretched into a lifetime. Before she could clamp down on her thoughts, she started to cry in earnest. More than anything, she wanted to be a little girl again and be safely held in her mother's arms. But that was impossible. Kelly's mother had died, leaving her without the never failing comfort that was always there when she needed it. Her heart had quit beating one night while she slept. Peaceful, sudden, she hadn't even stirred awake. How could a heart that had given so much just quit so easily?

Kelly stared at the green light from the clock readout for a full minute before it registered that she was even looking at it. Only a few more minutes had passed, this night would never end. She walked to her bookcase. It was filled with old friends. She smiled, remembering how she had carefully chosen each book thinking she would share them with her children. But none of them were baby books, or picture books, or even something Tessa would be interested in for several more years.

She had read to her children before bed. Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb and Where the Wild Things Are. Timeless stories, to be sure, but nothing to stretch the mind. She recited the first one from memory as her hand reached out and closed on White Fang. When she read the book, it started her on a search for any novel about dogs. Then came The Black Stallion. She read every book that William Farley wrote. Her favorite was The Island Stallion. She used to dream about escaping her childhood by finding her way through the caves into the sanctuary of the island. Maybe that was why she loved The Swiss Family Robinson so much. Isolated, protected and yet surrounded by adventure and each other's love.

Strange. She had never thought about how many stories she loved where the characters were immersed in loneliness. Like her own childhood. Day in and day out, four wall without a mother because the need to work had pulled her from the home. But the days were better than the nights. Sleeping in her own room, in a big bed, she often felt lost. The dark would close in on her until she felt unable to move because of fear.

Marriage should have changed that. It did. Sort of. The nights felt safer with Jerry asleep beside her. But, when he was gone, she felt as if every cell of her body was on edge. The windows were checked and double checked. The curtains closed tight. The door bolted. She checked on her babies often, just to be sure they hadn't been swept away by some unseen foe.

Replacing the book, she sat in the chair, pulling her legs up to her chest. Another five minutes gone. She couldn't shake her uneasiness. She wanted to be held. She wanted to cry. She wanted to hear a human voice teasing her out of these feelings. Instead, she watched the clock as it ticked away another minute.

There were things she could do. Pictures that needed to be arranged in the albums. A cross stitch project sitting under the end table that had been waiting for her to complete for the past six months. A letter to write, or a shopping list to create, or bills to pay. Plenty to do. She wandered into the kitchen to attack the bills. The calculator was out of batteries, the pen was out of ink, and within minutes she was out of patience. But she had managed to plow through another fifteen minutes.

“Mommy, I had a bad dream.” Kelly picked Tessa up and headed for the rocker. Soothing her with soft tones, she listened as Tessa described her dream. Kelly made a few suggestions that allowed Tessa to change her dream. The little angel smiled and leaned her head against her mommy's chest. She was asleep again almost instantly. Kelly sat and held her middle child, rocking her and singing softly. Her heart surged with love for her daughter. She was such an active child that she rarely allowed anybody to just hold her. Except at night, when her activity calms and she wants quiet rocking. She put Tessa back to bed next to Nina and checked in on Trevor. All was well with her children and the clocked had moved several notches close to Jerry's homecoming.

She curled back into her chair and wondered what it would be like when she was old. Her children gone. Jerry too, probably. The thought chilled her but she pushed past the feeling and imagined what her life would be like. Alone again. Watching the clock, wondering when the last tick would click on her life. A morbid thought. Maybe she would write a book. Then whenever that last tick happened, she'd leave something behind that would touch lives. Maybe. A better thought. Why wait?

Kelly begin to imagine her story. But it wasn't interesting enough. So she sat and created the story of a lifetime, full of adventure, companionship, and family. She turned on her computer and began to write. Her mind was filled with the conversation of her characters and her fingers flew over the keyboard as she tried to keep up with them.

A page turned into a chapter and still she wrote. She was so engrossed in the story she would dedicate to her children that she never heard the door open. Jerry, tired from work, placed his hand on her shoulder, and bent down to give her a kiss. Surprised, she exclaimed, “Wow, honey! I can't believe you're home so soon!”

Thursday, February 05, 2009

How Are You Doing?



"How are you doing?" The sincere question pulsed in the air, waiting for a response. Kathy hesitated and her friend immediately noticed. "Really, how are you doing?" Sarah's eyes bore into Kathy's, pressing her for a true answer.

Kathy's thoughts raced and stumbled over each other trying to reach the correct pigeon-hole of truth and reality. How was she doing, really?

Kathy - packing, preparing for the rapidly approaching evacuation. Her steps pulling her away from the books so carefully tucked away in the box. Her hand touching the case that had held them for years. A case built to her specifications, stained the perfect deep cherry she loved. She would have to drop the books off at the thrift store.

Kathy – shivering in the cold winter air as she stubbornly sat in the porch swing, gently rocking, her eyes constantly moving from the mountain scene before her to the mountain scene to her right and over to the neighbors on her left. It was quiet on the porch, a quietness found only here. She grabbed the blanket that had slipped off her shoulder and pulled it in close. Her cat jumped onto her lap and burrowed into the blanket seeking warmth. Kathy's breath caught in her chest – the cat! Another drop off, to be sure. If she left her here, how would she survive?

Kathy – serving Sunday dinner from three crock pots. The smell of roast blended with onions and potatoes saturating the air. Laughter everywhere. The baby pulling canning lids from the drawer and tossing them in a circle around her body. The toddler thundering by as he pushed the stool across the tile, the noise almost unbearable. Games being cleared from the table so the family could eat, whistles sounding to notify all that dinner was finally ready. Laughter – again – always laughter at these times of family gatherings. Moments peaked by an occasional snippet of sibling frustration and parental irritability. She moved from the counter to the spice cupboard, quickly crossing the familiar space, just as the voices silenced, waiting for prayer. Turning, her eyes twinkled as she swept past each beloved face.

Kathy – curled up in the small front room, shivering again, this time because the gas fireplace refused to burst into warming flames. She thought of calling her son in again to fix the problem. She shook her head, knowing that it would be a wasted endeavor. Still, the warmth and feel of gently contained flames soothed the soul. Maybe in her new home - wherever that might be - there would be a small fire.

Kathy – sitting in the family's quiet room, her bedroom really, but until bedtime, it was the family's peaceful retreat. Now her eyes burned with unbidden tears. Here was where she counseled her children, solved the problems that come with running the home, planned and dreamed, organized resources and juggled needs and wants. Here she created, here she soothed. This was the room where she called on the best of herself and gave it to those who needed her. Closeness, quietness, mixed with dashes of fun and laughter. She could see her daughters and her daughters-in-law – sitting and talking, telling tales of love and frustration, but mostly simply sharing life with each other. She could see her sons quietly coming in and wanting to talk in a place where the deepest questions could be asked and carefully answered. Where would the “talking” place be when she left here?

Kathy – looking at the table and seeing her husband, arms folded, eyes twinkling, calling for prayer. Looking at the couch and seeing her husband, face intense, fingers pressing on the game controller, arms whipping back and forth as he played with his sons and sons-in-law. Looking across the lawn and seeing him again, pulling the hose and frowning because of hated yard work, even while he created a green environment in a pocket surrounded by weed-ridden land because he knew she loved beauty. Looking at the chair beside her in their room and once again seeing only him, her heart racing, her smile gently touching her face, as she closed her eyes in sleep, knowing that she was safe while he was beside her.

“Really, Kathy, how are you doing?” The tiny question broke through her memories. “I know hard times are forcing you to leave your home and that must be killing you inside.”

Kathy smiled, and when she did the light in her eyes flared into brilliance. “I'm good. I never thought leaving a house could be so painful, but I'm still breathing. I thought – I worried – that if I lost my home, my family would never find that same incredible unity they found here. I still wonder what a difference it will make in our lives, how we'll ever manage to all be together again in one place with so many children and grandchildren.” Her voice became raspy as she fought against an uncontrolled wave of grief. “But, who we are, how we love, it isn't the home, you know. It is the heart and soul of being a close and united family.”

She smiled again, sincerity vibrated with every word. “We all tend to look at the worst thing in our lives and think, this is it. This is all that I'm about – the worst whatever – death of a child, poverty, pain and illness, hurt and betrayal. . . loneliness. It is almost natural to let that worst thing color everything, veiling all the good from view. And it is a terrible lie forced on us to capture our minds and hearts, rendering us unable to rise above whatever that horrible thing might be.”

Her friend nodded slowly, half in agreement, half wondering exactly what Kathy was saying. She knew Kathy's heart was reaching out, attempting to teach something important. Glancing at the last of the boxes being loaded into the truck by the children, she just couldn't
grasp the message.

Kathy bent down, picked up her beloved cat and gently placed her in Sarah's arms. “Take care of her please. She can't go where we are headed.” Wiping a small tear from her cheek, Kathy stepped towards the car holding her youngest children. Turning back, her smile was honestly radiant.

“I'm okay. My family is solid, full of laughter, companionship, unity and with their feet firmly planted in the teachings of our home,” glancing at the beloved structure behind her, “no, the teachings of our lives. Most people tend to look at the worst thing and think – this is it. My family – every single individual - has chosen to look at the beauty around us, at the elation of life itself, and at the true security of eternal relationships and we know – I know - beyond all doubt – this goodness truly is our reality.”

Sarah watched as Kathy's small caravan drew out onto the road, carefully cutting in between the long string of cars, all leaving their homes because the bad times had forced that reality upon them. Amid the colorless line of vehicles, only Kathy's
small group glowed with an unexplainable inner light. Kathy's final message at last vibrated in Sarah's heart.

“This goodness truly is our reality.”

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Christmas Fun

Chiya and Lem planned the activities for our Christmas party this year. We played pictionary using marshmallows and toothpicks and we re-wrote Christmas songs using words picked out of a hat. Also, at the last second, Chiya told us someone in each group had to do an interprative dance. Luckily Chamrie was there to video it. Hee hee. :)


Dad, Mom and Chrystal had "grandma got run over by a reindeer". The words they had to use were Christmas Party, Gay Apparel, Roast Beef and Dum dum dum.
However, mom and dad couldn't agree, so they each wrote a version. The first one is Mom's, the second is Dad's. Mom forgot to put some words in her song (as you'll see at the end).



Ben, Randee and Ryan had "Jolly Old St. Nicholas" their words were 3 Kings, North Pole, Christmas Tree and Presents.



Doug and Chamrie had "Jingle Bells" and the words Nutcracker, Elves, Stockings and Mistletoe. Doug made up most of the song... Also, Dad was filming this one and he didn't know how to make it stop recording, so feel free to skip to the next one when Doug stops singing. :)


Chiya, Lem and Chalae had "What Child is This?" and Fire, Star, Candy Cane and Scrooge.



Chani, Scott and Cheyanne had "Silent Night" and Angel, Egg Nog, Hot Cocoa and Gingerbread Man.