a moment of clarity in mommyland

the kids are learning about various forms of poetry in school, and this is boyo’s haiku:

can you guess what it is about?

creeping to the bay

mystifying its presence

veiling all the ships

Tanka are 31-syllable poems that have been the most popular form of poetry in Japan for at least 1300 years. they have a syllable pattern of 5-7-5-7-7.

boyo’s class is doing a poetry unit and here’s his tanka:

summer is coming,

children are shouting with glee,

they run to the bus

coming home with no homework

plop down on the couch, relax.

mine is great. he’s the fabulous unkgl pol…he’s an action figure…and he and i will prolly always be silly around each other.

but we have our grown up moments too. he understood intuitively my need to shoot things shortly after D-day. his heart must have been breaking as he watched everything unfold and as he watched me come unglued during it.

i remember one day, as i was recovering at their (FUP and ant natlee) place, there was a lot of stuff being revealed and anger was building. he looked at me with this expression that looked a lot like he had when he was a boy and said ‘let’s go shoot something!’ in the tone of ‘let’s play!’

i didn’t want to go. i wanted to just sit on my butt and mope. but he persuaded me to go outside with him to the abandoned field behind his house, and i shot his guns. lots and lots. with lots of screaming. it was fun. it was distracting. it was cathartic. it was intuitive.

his intuition came into play again for my benefit a few years later. he introduced me to the man who would become my husband–my BFG (Big Friendly Giant)…because he saw that i wanted and needed a protector and life friend–and he saw that BFG had a song that needed harmony and that i would provide that…

so he sneakily set us up…and we got married! the expression on his face on our wedding day, and on many days since then as he sees us warms me…it’s the same expression i used to see on his face when we were kids and we had shared a moment.

we share many moments, still. and for that, i will always be grateful. thank you, bro. i just don’t tell you enough.

complications sounds like ‘complaining’ to me.   as an adult, i sometimes use one word when i mean the other.  i can’t explain it, because i do actually know the difference between the two.

this weekend, i decided that there must be an equation in my head between the two: complications=complaining.

and this weekend, i lived it out.  my dad had cancer surgery thursday and all seemed ok…we got him home and let him rest.  ungkl pol, ant natlee, BFG and myself and mom all collapsed from the emotional tension we’d been carrying around.

friday morning, everything was good.  once we knew dad was on the mend (he was carrying on and telling jokes) BFG and i said our goodbyes and headed back home.  once home, i think the rest of the day was spent sitting in stupor staring at the tv (which was off).

saturday, we finally got ourselves back together and began to pick up the house and make preparations for ivory and chris’ (stepdaughter and her husband) birthday party–on sunday.

i got a call from ungkl pol.  there was a complication.  my heart began to whine to God. dad was taken to the emergency room because the bleeding wouldn’t stop.  God, can’t you fix this? he has clots and they’re really big.  they’re too big to pass through the catheter.  is this some kind of a sick joke? he’s uncomfortable.

i asked if i was needed at home.  no…not yet.  talked to my mom..she’s an emotional wreck.  how come we can’t just have a surgery and be done with it?! and on and on it went.

i whined and griped at God over the discomfort my folks were going through and whined some more about the distraction i felt and argued with Him over this whole situation…

and came to the conclusion that He knows our days and our hearts and has them measured in His hand.  To trust is to let the events of this world be in His control and expect that He is God.  that He will be with us in uncertainties.

A very special island is inhabited only by knights and knaves. Knights always tell the truth, and knaves always lie.

You meet two inhabitants: Zoey and Mel. Zoey tells you that Mel is a knave. Mel says, `Neither Zoey nor I are knaves.’

Can you determine who is a knight and who is a knave?

(don’t peek)

Zoey can’t be a liar. If Zoey were lying, then Mel is actually a knight and telling the truth. If Mel is telling the truth that there are no liars, a contradiction would arise since we stated that Zoey is a liar.

Since Zoey’s not a liar, he is a knight, and therefore telling the truth, which makes Mel the knave.

Zoey is the knight, Mel is the knave.

from you, all i want is to be left alone.

i want respect and consideration for me as an individual working to build a new life on the ashes of one you willingly torched.

Don’t spy on me.

Don’t deride or mock my choices.

Don’t encourage our son to be your spy.

Fulfill your obligations as a parent.

Don’t use money like child support as a weapon. If it is owed to me as the parent of your child, pay it promptly and without comment.

i don’t meddle in your affairs, or otherwise insert myself where i don’t belong.

Please, give me the same respect.

there’s a curious swirl of emotions in my heart right now–

i’m caught up in the preparations for my son’s birthday party on saturday–my folks are coming to celebrate my dad’s birthday on friday–there’s lots to do and lots of excitement…

all happy emotions, right? right.

the downside is that today, april 16 is my dad’s birthday. he went to the urologist for a check-up. he was told his cancer has come back, that he needs to get it removed and that he needs chemotherapy this time.

all the swirls of happy just jolted to a shuddering stop and started churning instead. i’m surprised at myself because i don’t understand why this time was harder to take the news than last time.

last time, it was all new. it was a shock, but there was hope and the upbeat doctor and lots of prayer.

this time, it’s a shock because we didn’t expect to see it back and this time he needs some medicine that makes you wonder if the cure is worse than the disease. this time, covered with prayer feels different. last time, it was asking God to cover dad with His hand. this time, i feel like i’m getting ready for a battle.

nobody is ever prepared for these kinds of things. and no one is ready for the conflicting emotions they generate.

if you think you are too small to be effective, you have never been in the dark with a mosquito….

one year ago, on March 10, BFG and i entered into a marriage–

ours was a story of victory over sin and healing of a broken heart.

we continue building on God’s blessings and look forward to what the future holds for our family.

thank you to all who have walked our journey with us.

your praying hands uplifted our hearts so the Son could shine upon us.

blessings…

i woke up boyo this morning to get him ready to go for the day–he rolled over all sleepy and pink faced, smiled at me. i whispered, ‘let’s go wake up BFG!’  (see cast list)

so he hopped out of bed, and walked to the door, then turned and hugged me, and said ‘happy valentine’s day, mommy’–i was a melted mess of goo right there.

i hugged him back, kissed his head and let him go attack BFG–but as BFG was already awake, boyo walked in and wished him a happy valentine’s day, then came skipping back down the hall.

i tell ya, as i heard him chirping to himself in the bathroom during morning ablutions, it was as good to my heart as a doily valentine.

hey kiddo, y’know what? when i look at you, i get hearts in my eyes.