Big brave girl in a small world

It's Saturday.
And that means today I get to meet Annette.
I asked my husband if he would drive me to meet her.
I told him that I started following her blog about 4 years ago.
And I told him that I really wanted to meet her.
And he said - "No problem. I'll drive you".

So at 4:00 pm today, him and I are going to drive 45 minutes,
just down the road, to meet her.
Well I am going to meet her.
He's going to drop me off at her hotel and then go to his favorite store
which is also just down the road...Gander Mountain.

I'm nervous and excited all at the same time.
I am sooo bad at small talk.......I'll let you know how it goes.

Pot calling the kettle

Most of the time...all of the time really, I let what he does aggravate me.

As  Annette says here-
 "My brain doesn't work like yours and it overwhelms me when you move on to the future steps before I have finished the step I am on. Then I get snippy and nasty, and then you take my ugly attitude personally, and it creates tension between us, but all it really is, is that our brains work differently from each others.  I need to finish up what I am working on before I can move on."

We are just like that. Him and I. Exactly.
I am always thinking that I know better and I am always reacting to him in a negative way.
I just want him to stop it, yet I couldn't stop the way I react to things if I tried.
It's what feels normal to me.
So why do I do this? Why do we do this?
Is this that codependent thing again? Always thinking we know better than anyone else or that people should do things our way because it's better??

The truth is hard for him to hear.
He grew up with a mentally abusive mother. And what he learned from her was that the truth is painful and people who are honest with you are not your friends. They believe that people who are honest are a danger and say hurtful things.

The truth about himself and us and her and his life always make him react with anger.
When I notice that he is trying to cover up a truth about himself, I usually try to say gently to him-
"Just tell the truth. The truth is ok."
But it always come out of my mouth like a shriek-
"God!! Just tell the fucking truth. Why do you always have to make up a story?!"

The truth is, he is afraid of the truth. It makes him nervous, it keeps him on edge.
And yet...here am I.
I don't believe he knows about this blog or if he does he would never admit
the truth about knowing about it.
And to be truthful I've never told him about this blog either.
I won't admit to lying about it because I haven't lied.
I just never told him about it.
I use this blog more as an online diary of sorts.
I'd rather tell 3 complete strangers my problems and how I work them out.

So what does that say about me? About us? About him?

This weekend I have the opportunity to meet Annette.
She will be 45 minutes away from the town where I live.
I will not get this chance again and I want to meet her so badly!!
So I will have to figure out a way to tell him that I have been blogging for 5 years
and telling complete strangers about our problems.
And the truth about that will make him upset.
Not mad or angry or abusive but upset.

And I realize that I am in a situation where I am trying to think up a lie to tell him.
So the truth is making me nervous and keeping me on edge.
The truth is making me afraid.
Now isn't THAT the pot calling the kettle black??

Color me happy

So we went on a little getaway this past weekend.
We meaning me, him, my sister and brother in law.
Way up north to the great state of Wisconsin.
I love Wisconsin. Always have.

As kids, mom and dad would drive us 2 hours each way to a town called Lodi.
We did this every single Friday during the Summer for family camping trips.
We'd  roast hot dogs and marshmallows on sticks over the campfire
and sleep in sleeping bags in our canvas tent.
We'd wake up shivering on pillows made damp from the ground.
I can still remember the smell of it all...
The damp canvas, the wood smoke, the blackened hot dogs and burnt sugar.

Anyway...

We decided on the spur of the moment to go for a motorcycle ride.
Had a free weekend and the weather was going to be awesome
So we packed our bags and headed up north.
We hoped that we might see some fall color in the trees.
Wisconsin can be a little fickle.
Sometimes every thing is still green green green;
Other times the autumn colors are already past their prime;
Without a leaf to be found, only bare skeletal trees.

Last weekend we hit pay dirt.
The fall colors in Wisconsin were outstanding.

Red, mauve, rust, russett, brown, gold, yellow, ochre,
orange, yellow orange and 50 different shades of green-
Yellow green, olive green, pine green, forest green....
so many different shades of every single color!





Crayola hasn't even imagined any of these colors yet!

My sister knows a woman who owns a condo in The Dells
So we got to stay for free right on Lake Delton.

Can I tell you about the sunset that first night?
It was breathtaking.
Soft mauve and plum and dark gray reflecting on the lake.

Can I tell you about the birds that I saw?
A flock of red birds went shooting off... way up into the sky.
There was a blue/gray parrot type of bird that raced us off to our right.
I saw black birds and brown sparrows and gray geese in V formation.



There were curves in the road that lead to more curves...
That lead to more trees and more color and more wildlife.

I saw white feathery plants...what are those??...waving in the breeze.
.
I saw orange pumpkins fields and green pine tree forests.


I saw amber waves of grain that were tan, not amber.

Fields of unharvested corn sparkled in the sun.
I saw a farmer, in his tractor, beginning to harvest his field of corn.
A few years ago we saw a farmer plowing his stunted field under due to a drought.
The stature of both these farmers was so markedly different.
I remember seeing the drought farmer's stooped posture in his tractor
and how it made me hang my head and cry for his loss.

I mentioned to my husband that I really didn't know why
looking at dying trees would fill up a persons soul so much.
But it does. And it did.

I heard glory singing in my hears that was disguised as the wind and birds.
I saw glory with my eyes in leaves that were colored with hues I've never seen before.
I felt glory warming my face as the sun shined and the temperatures hit 75 degrees.

We watched from our balcony as the sun rose on Lake Delton Sunday morning.
And we watched it sink below the horizon when we were 3 miles from home
In a ball of flaming yellow and orange glory on Sunday evening.

My senses were on overload due to the sights, and the sounds, and the smells.
It's taken me the better part of this week to get this typed.
I need to attach pictures but will wait til tomorrow.

Thanks for the inquiries...I'm doing ok.
He on the other hand had his gallbladder out last week
(That's the Friday AFTER we got home) and isn't doing very well with it.
I'm exhausted and grouchy and super busy playing nursemaid
(He's a bad patient and I'm a bad nurse) along with babysitting the grandkids.

I'll write more when I can.
Hope to post the pics to this post tomorrow.
Miss the hell outta you people.

Much Love,
Lolly

Fool's Paradise

Addiction came back like a thief in the night.

Oh, he's not drinking again.

But the Dry Drunk in him reared his ugly ass self tonight and it felt like 2009 all over again.

As I've been taught in Alanon I quickly tried to exit the volatile situation but he followed still hollering and accusing.

Our son-in-law is having issues with Bi-polar disorder and alcohol addiction.
My qualifier says he is gonna go talk to him because he doesn't like the fact
that our son-in-law keeps booze under the front car seat.
I made mention of the fact that at one time so did he.
And shit hit the fan.
My qualifier became angry and self-righteous.
His physical appearance changed to red faced and angry.
You could see the change in his eyes, even in his stance.

Wait wait wait, I said to him. I'm only speaking your truth.
It's not a bad thing. It's not!
But when a well addict sees another addict in trouble, a well addict will want to help an unwell addict by sharing stories and truths about themselves and how they got well.

"Hey, man...I've been there myself. I know what you're going through."

My own qualifier didn't seek help from a 12 step program or any program for that matter.
He claims to have "fixed" hisself.
And by that he means that he doesn't drink anymore. That's it.
That's all he thought it was.... the alcohol.
His behavior modified because he removed alcohol from his system.
But he never got well.
He never healed what actually drove him to addiction in the first place.
Never revealed his "truth" to another living soul.
Never owned up to the damage he caused or the people he hurt.
Never made amends or apologies.

And tonight he raged at me and screamed that
"ALL YOU WANTED WAS FOR ME TO BE LOCKED UP AND
YOU WERE ANGRY WHEN I REFUSED TO GO!"

In my own defense, I was sad that he refused treatment.
I had wanted him to enter treatment so he could find sobriety.
That Intervention we had for him was so hard on us...so brutal emotionally.
And when he refused treatment it was like a kick in the gut.

And then tonight, to hear him say that he he is still pissed and resentful
at me for wanting him in treatment program....from 6 years ago???
Can I tell you that I am speechless? Would you believe that of me?

It truly makes me feel like I've been living in a fool's paradise.
Is this true? Have I been so blind for 6 years?

I am aware that he never went to a 12 step program.
But truly, I tell you that he did seem well...well, not really well per se
but at least relatively healthy enough to have stayed sober for 6 years.

I suppose that I was foolish in a way.
Foolish to have given up on Alanon, certainly.
Right now, it is 8:30 at night and I don't know who to call.
Well, I know who to call but I haven't been there in 5 years.
Are the same ladies still sitting in the same seats?
Is that over bearing and controlling woman still in charge?
Does it matter at this point, really?

I feel blindsided.
I feel like I could panic.
My qualifier sees himself in the actions of our son-in-law (like a mirror image)
and it is making an ugly dry monster re-emerge that I thought was long gone.

Jesus I am scared. I don't want this sober dry drunk to show itself anymore.
Isn't there some way You could intervene here?
His rage is uncalled for as are his accusations.
Isn't there some way You could show him the light?
He used to believe in You. Maybe You could reveal Yourself to him.
Could You do that? Would You do that? For me? For him?

My phone

My IPhone is busted again and I'm real aggravated.
I'm realizing how attached to that damn thing I really am.
I'm cranky and short tempered.
I'm panic stricken...how will I go on with out a phone?
My new Instagram Account... my Facebook feed...
My word games...my music that I've downloaded from ITunes...
My IPhone camera...The Internet...normally all at my fingers, is gone.

People are fleeing their homelands due to war.
People are going to bed hungry tonight.
Somebody just got shot in Chicago and died.
Somebody's baby just got diagnosed with cancer.
There are more than 18 Hispanics living next door to me
And all of them (women and children too) sleep on mattresses
Placed side by side on the cold basement floor.

Do any of these people give a shit about having an IPhone?
No.
They are all just trying to get thru the day.

I'm taking this as a message from God to put down my phone.
After all what's more important?
Taking a picture for Instagram and checking my Facebook account?
Or maybe paying attention to my grandkids?

I take that damn phone with me everywhere.
I pat the side of my purse to make sure it's in there.
I feel all panicky when I can't find it.
What the hell!?
It. Is. A. Phone.
How did I become so attached to this thing?

We have an appointment for Monday afternoon to get it looked at.
Most likely it will have to be replaced.
So when (if?) they give me a new phone what should I do?
Should I delete the apps that are taking up my time?
Should I only use it for emergencies?
I hate that I am so attached to this thing.
I really do.
What do you think?

Vonni

My sister died 7 years ago this past August.
She was 48 years old at the time.
A strange and barely known infectious type of bacteria entered her brain in January  and put her in a vegetative state that left her on life support for 8 hellatious months.

We battled with her estranged and drug addicted spouse to follow her wishes of no life support and to let stand the power of attorney which her son was executor of.
Her spouse was out of his mind with grief and out of his mind due to his pain medication addiction.
He was estranged from my sister and all 3 of their kids at the time of her illness.
Her becoming sick brought him back into their lives in the absolute worst way.
At the hospital he was combative with Drs. and care givers and nurses.
He threatened to sue the hospital at every change in her condition-whether good or bad.

Sound confusing?
It was that and more.
I'll spare you the gruesome details but her eventual death by removing all care except comfort, devastated me and my 2 remaining sisters.
And it's a pain that doesn't go away.
Part of my childhood died when she did.
I lost a best friend and the keeper of my secrets.

Two weeks ago the proper authorities caught up with her estranged husband.
He'd been living in their house for the last 7 years without paying the mortgage.
He phoned my brother in law to let him know that if we wanted anything of hers
that it would be on the curb August 25th.
He was moving to a studio apartment and could no longer keep everything he had amassed since her death.
He spent her life insurance on shit from Ebay or on clearance items found at Menard's.
We found 8 ladders that were $8.00 a piece that he said he was gonna put on Ebay for $20 each.
Blow dryers...plural, 75 bars of soap, pool supplies (no pool), Halloween decor,
a heated towel rack, Christmas decorations galore that he had then individually wrapped in bubble wrap and then wound clear packing tape around that (5 full totes of this).
20 pieces of luggage with the tags still on...a closeout deal from Kmart.
Amidst all of this and more we found her Midge doll and her Barbie from 1969.
We found her baby dolls and a chair we had used as children.
We found her clothes that he had washed, dried, folded and then placed in Space bags that were too heavy for us to lift.
We found my deceased father's tackle box and lures that he had swiped from my mom's garage and denied that he had.
That and so much more...it could have been an episode of Hoarder's.
We just wanted the sentimental stuff...the Barbie's and the dolls and that chair but we had to dig through a mountain full of crap to find anything.
He was awful while we were there...he wanted to let nothing go...wanted money for the stuff we did want... the fucker!
I know he is ill....I know he has issues..medical, physical, spiritual, mental.
I know he is lonely...painfully so.
He has no wife, no kids, no home, no job, no friends, no future prospects.

Yet I hated him for what he had put my sister through.
I hated him for the condition of her house.
I hated him for not giving a rat's ass for her stuff.

It took eight of us two nights to go through that stuff...for 5 hours each night.
That first night when I got home, I drank 4 glasses of wine whilst bawling on the phone with my other sister...and I cried until I passed out.
In the morning I told myself that I. Was. Not. Going. Back. to that house anymore.
But I did. And that's when we found her dolls and her childhood mementos that he didn't give a shit about in a corner of the basement.
So while he loaded his truck with AM/FM radios and VHS machines that he had purchased at Circuit City's close-out sale, we loaded up the last of our sister's childhood toys.
Walking to my car I passed her rock garden and stopped to pick up a few stones for my garden.
It was well past dark so I couldn't get a good look at them.
I thought to myself that it didn't really matter what they looked like, I just wanted something from her garden to be in my own.
When I got home I looked at the rocks that I had picked from her garden in the dark of night.
The first was a round boulder...about the size of a cantaloupe.
The second was a rust colored triangle about the size of a sandwich cut in half.
And this was the third....


Forgiveness is so hard, isn't it?
It is something I battle with in my life, a lot!
I find it so hard to forgive people who have hurt me.
I also find it hard to forgive my own self for stuff that I have said and done.

Every time I look at this rock it reminds me of love.
The love I had for my sister.
The love that she had for her garden.
The love that she and him must of had at one time.
The love that Jesus says I should have for another human being.
Especially a human being who is so lost and broken and alone.

I've found myself praying for this husband of hers lately.
Praying that God would ease his suffering and give him some measure of comfort
...whatever that may be.

This heart rock sits by my computer and reminds me that love is all anybody really wants.
Even stupid, angry, sick, drug addicted, fucked up people need love.
I'm thinking it wasn't a coincidence that I picked up that rock in the dark.

So, maybe, if I can't love him just yet, maybe the least I could do is pray for him.
That's love Jesus style...loving the unlovable.

Questions

It seems to be a bit of a thing here lately...
at least with some of the blogs that I read,
To give the audience (You guys) a chance to ask the blogger (Me) questions.
It scares me a bit.
What could the 4 of you possible want to know about me?
Or what if the 4 of you don't even have any questions that you want to ask me?
How horrible would that be?
So I guess I'll take a leap of faith here and just ask-
Do you have a question for me?
Anything you're wondering about me but afraid to ask?
Any burning desire to know what makes me tick?
Something that really isn't any of your business but you're curious?
Cuz now is the time to ask.


Summer is quickly coming to a close here.
My gardens are starting to wilt no matter how much I water them.
The grass is turning brown..lots of heat and no rain.
Some of the neighborhood trees have leaves that are starting to change!
School starts for my perfect and tiny 5 year old grandson in 12 days.
When did THAT happen? Holy Cow! He's in Kindergarten!!

Him and I are getting along and liking each other.
Hills and Valleys with us...always.

I got a new IPhone with a shitload of more space.
So I joined Instagram and am loving it.
Want to follow me?
Let me know and I'll give you my Instagram name.
It's my real name in case you are wondering.
But I feel like I can trust you ladies.

That's it for now.
Looking forward to your questions...(I think)
Enjoy the rest of your Summer!

Love, Lolly