After 25 Years, I Am Gettin' Out of That Box

"You Luce girls, you're tough to deal with."  I bit down on the inside of my cheek to suppress the rising rage that would sharpen my tongue and prove this snarky former classmate correct in his assumption.  Instead, for reasons unknown to me, I admitted--acquiesced--that I indeed did understand that I could be difficult. This man whom I barely knew then responded "Wow! It is good that you know yourself like that.  It's good that you know that you can be tough.  I am impressed with the fact that you know yourself so well."  At this point he nodded satisfactorily and walked away. Heck I wouldn't have been surprised if he had patted me on the head, and even though THAT didn't happen,  I stood stunned and up to my ears in emotions.  Awash with rage and shouldhavesaids and howdareyou's, I mentally chastised myself for not saying so many things....so many responses, retorts, come backs I could have uttered...but instead I stood mute.

This one sided conversation took place this past weekend at my 25th high school reunion, and although I had many amazing encounters with people I haven't seen in years, although there were moments where I felt like Cinderella at the ball, what has stuck with me is this little slice of conversation with a human being who is so insignificant that I have probably had less than ten surface conversations with him in my entire lifetime.  And perhaps that's what gets me.  This man, this man who lives in my town, who owns several businesses, who's legendary for both the good and bad, this man who doesn't know of my joys, my struggles, my stories, my work, my successes or my failures, this man who for reasons unknown to me presumed to know me well--perhaps through rumors, perhaps through one-sided stories, perhaps through 2nd hand, 3rd hand or 4th hand accounts of moments and happenings, this man had placed me in a box, a box that was wrapped and had a tag attached to it that read: Handle With Care--Difficult Person Inside.

Perhaps it was appropriate that this small mindedness happened at my high school reunion.  I think it is easy, easy for all of us to hear, see or remember something about a particular person or persons that may have taken place briefly and way in the past and BAM!  we place them in a narrow cardboard container that have labels like "loose" or "volatile" or "liar" or "cold."  Those boxes we put people in...those blasted boxes wrapped up tightly in paper and twine keeping the residents seemingly stagnant, all contorted and twisted and cramped in the tiny space we allow them.  No room for growth.  No room for change.  No room to even stretch their legs and forget about unfurling any wings. Hasty decisions made about a person or people, assuming that we know a person based upon the way they were 25, 20, 10 years, heck even 10 days ago is presumptuous and kinda ignorant.  Because here's a news flash...those boxes that they placed us in, those boxes that seem indestructible and permanent are anything but...

What these purveyors of our tiny libelous cubicles forget is that minute by minute, day by day, week by week, month by month,  moment by every-lovin' moment things happen that unravel the twine, rip the wrapping paper to shreds and burst the boxes we've been shoved into to minuscule pieces.  Even if we tried to put the box back together, it would be forever changed like shattered glass re-glued into place.  Shards would be missing, lines would indicate the fissures that still existed, and the pieces would no longer be as impenetrable as they were before. In short, those boxes would no longer be the same, because humans rarely stay the same.

We all change.  It is inevitable.  Relationships develop.  Relationships end.  Relationships teach us and help us to mature.  Relationships will demolish our psyches and will reveal our strength.  Children will fill our hearts and grown up children will break them.  Friends come and go and leave behind valuable lessons that help us to grow and bend and sometimes snap in half. Over time we are forced to face the worst of ourselves and if we are really evolved we will set out to set those things right.  There will be moments in which we will have to make moral decisions.  Sometimes they will be right and sometimes we will choose wrong. No matter--because each outcome will hold life lessons that we couldn't do without, that will shape and mold us.  Each and every experience whether gigantic or teeny weeny is monumental to creating the human we are today, and each day will bring new experiences that will make us different humans tomorrow.

So Mr. Snarky 25th Reunion Man, I'd like to change my answer if at all possible.  What I should have said to you is "Yes, I used to be a difficult person.  I was preoccupied by looking perfect--perfect family, perfect image, perfect marriage, perfect career.  I was weak and surrounded myself with human beings who would dominate me and direct my every move.  I needed to be acknowledged as the best and the brightest in order to feel some worth....any kind of worth.  I was controlling and sometimes I did things, horrible things, without thinking about others' feelings.  But life happened to me.  I made many mistakes that taught me what it was like to live with humiliation and humility.  I experienced heartache that brought me to my knees.  I felt depressions so deep that I was sure that I'd be swallowed up in a black hole never to be seen again.  I have also known the greatest of happinesses--the kind that make it feel like your feet are floating over the asphalt on an invisible magic carpet soaring over any obstacle in my way.  I also know what it feels like to almost die and regain a semblance of health which taught me to appreciate each and every instant of my life;the good, the bad, the ugly, the horrific--I appreciate it all, because I am alive to encounter it all.  I know the love and the warmth of a a child pressed against me and wrapped in my arms recognizing full well that the love they feel is unconditional.  I know what it feels like for family to turn against you and for some to stand beside you.   I have learned that I am never without fault and that it takes years and years and years of work to actually change who you are for the better.  And just so you know Mr. Snarky Business Owner Hometown Boy, I have done the years of work.  I continue to do the work.  I am not perfect by any means.  I have a long way to go.  But you can't put me in a box, not any box, not even several boxes.  Who I am is a totality of my experiences both good and bad, and unless you have walked beside me every second of every day, you couldn't possibly know me or my layers.  You couldn't possibly label me and package me up in a neat and tidy box tied with a ribbon.  You see, who I am doesn't fit in one box.  The essence of me is expansive and wild and free.  It is a seeker of knowledge and enlightenment.  It is spacious and is constantly growing.   And for those reasons and many more, I don't and won't ever fit inside your box.  And although you offended me by placing me there in the first place I will make you a promise that I will try my hardest to be a better human an not put YOU in a box all tied up with twine and wrapped in paper with a label on it that says:  Handle with Care--Narrow Mind Inside.

A Universal Wind

My daughter turns 3 in two weeks. Three. That means that it has been three years and nine months since the surprise of my life happened. Since I stood in my miniscule bathroom with the new-fangled electronic EPT test in my hand that kept blinking the word “yes” over and over until the motion of that, coupled with my utter shock, made me feel dizzy and faint. I am sure that I have discussed in this column before that my reaction was less than enthusiastic.

Parenting my sons had been well just a crap shoot in many ways, and the waders I wore didn’t protect me at all from that raw sewage I sludged through daily trying to match that perfect mother in my head. The do-do seeped in deep; a constant reminder that I was nowhere near doing a great job. Now I know that there were MANY other factors that made my role difficult; absent grandparents, an ex hell bent on saying, doing, thinking and breathing the exact opposite of anything that I did, genetics, environment…on and on…and I guess that was EXACTLY what was going through my head that fateful day as I held that EPT….I did NOT want to go through the “on and on” again. Ever again. I had had enough.

To read the rest please click on the following link:

http://hilltownfamilies.wordpress.com/2012/08/21/fisher-44/

Don't EVER Call Me a Player!

I am not a player. No, no…I don’t mean the polyester-wearing-Victoria’s-Secret-peekin’-buttons-opened-to-my-navel player. No! Sheesh. I am NOT talking about THAT kind of player. I am talking about get-out-the-Fisher-Price-sit-down-on-th-rug-make-your-voice-high-for-the-girl-doll-and-a-low-voice-for-the-boy-doll kind of player. I am not kidding when I say that playing dolls or tea party or with a Dora kitchen gives me the anxiety of a bomb-squad member trying to keep an explosive from blowing up a town (okay that may be a WEE bit of an exaggeration, but…you get the idea.).

When my sons were younger, the five words I dreaded the most were “Will you play with me?” Ugh! How I’d cringe. I would twist. I would turn. I would grasp for any plausible idea that I could come up with for not succumbing to action figures or catch or hide and seek.

To read the rest, click on the link:  www.hilltownfamilies.org/2012/07/17/fisher-43

Go Ahead...Laugh...I Can Take It!

I recently got a shout out from one of the greatest websites EVER (in my humble opinion) www.kindovermatter.com.  Amanda writes, 

"Hi Beautiful You! Whether you're a writer or reader, I'm super excited to share these new series with you! 

Jo Anna & I will be sharing nearly every week & the Kind Kindred series will still be shining every Monday, as usual, but the rest of the series will pepper every month!

The first post will be next Thursday in the Laughter Lover series! (Do you remember the Granny Panties story Logan shared last year?! Oh yes! It's going to be SO FUN!)"

Ah yes...my "Granny Girdle Panties" story.  Who could forget my utter humiliation??  WHAT???  You haven't read the Granny Panties story????  Well, by all means....PLEASE do! Have a laugh on me I can take it!  Click the link below!  

http://www.kindovermatter.com/2011/09/laughter-is-best-medicine-granny.html

Omniscience: A Parent's Dream?

I have recently been working on a novel; my first endeavor into fiction.  Writers are readers at the heart of us, and so it is no surprise that I have been reading all I can find on the "hows" of planning and penning a made-up story. The other day I was reading about the merits of different points of view.  You know, 1st person as opposed to 3rd person.  To be honest with you I had not even considered writing this story in the 3rd person.  I am an essayist first and foremost and it is just so natural that I write in my own voice.  This book that I planned on writing, (OK if I was being TOTALLY honest here,  I'd tell you that I have already STARTED writing the book but have gotten stuck, hence the frantic reading and researching...) anyhow, while writing this book, I planned on just embodying the protagonist, being her so to speak, and then telling her (or rather my) story as if it were happening to me.  Telling it that way just seemed natural to me, the essayist.  However, after reading and reading and reading and reading about the two points of view, I am rethinking my plan for the book.  Writing in the 3rd person seems to perhaps be easier when writing fiction because the narrator is of course omniscient, being able to know all, see all, hear all, and ultimately show the reader all that is happening.  An omniscient story teller can anticipate what might be coming down the pike and even forewarn those that have decided to turn the pages of the precious book.  

During my point of view research, I learned that my definition of the word omniscience was flawed.  I have always thought that it meant "all powerful", but instead I learned that it is simply having infinite knowledge.  Infinite knowledge is something that our children, when they are younger, rely upon us to have.  In fact most small children would believe that their parents WERE in fact absolutely omniscient.   As they get older however, somehow we lose that omnipotence and our teens, according to them anyway, gain it. 

It got me thinking.  To be omniscient, all-knowing, all-seeing, preeminent..how handy would that be for us, Mudders?  To know what is coming around the corner, a couple of years down the road, to know whether or not our decisions are the right ones--with the power of omnipotence we could perhaps help to prepare our children, heck even ourselves for the future; for the twists and turns and raging storms that families have to plod through.  I am not nearly suggesting that being omniscient would cause me to try and change events because I am a firm believer that every experience is meant to mold and shape who we are, but to tell you the truth, I am pretty sure omnipotence would allow me to plant my feet in a firm wide stance to keep me steady when those winds do blow in.  Having your legs cut out from beneath you, and falling on your rear end (even if it IS well padded) feels horrific, no matter how many times you tell yourself that you gain strength from strife.  And while I am all for spontaneity, I would have liked to know about...well...I would have just like to have known that certain things would happen to my family.

Because I am from a small town, and because I openly write a blog about the difficulties that often come with motherhood, I am sure that it isn't news that 2012 has been a nightmarish year for me, Logan, the mother of two boys.  And while I am lucky that things with Ila have been idyllic and blissful, life-changing even, I have not spoken much of my sons because I am so disillusioned by what has taken place over the past 7 months.  For their sake, I will not delve into the nitty gritty details, but it would be safe to tell you that neither boy is living with me any longer.  It would be safe to say that not living with me also means that I have seen very little of them in seven months.  It would be safe to say that their absence has sliced an extremely large chasm into the very soul of me.  It would be safe to say that a little omnipotence would have and would be nice.  To have seen this coming.  To have known that I'd be without them for the several thousand reasons that have arisen that keep them from me or me from them--being a little prepared might have made the sting a little less, the resentment a smaller boulder in my solar plexus, the tears less prevalent.  The untethered feeling that I have had these past seven months, the lack of a compass has plagued me, and I wish with all that I have that I had been omniscient--that I would have known that someday, they'd be gone in this seemingly final way.

And there again, omniscience in the here and now would be such a gift because not only would I have been able to foresee these last disastrous months coming but I would be able to know with certainty that this situation may or may not get better and plan accordingly; steel my heart against any further hurt or keep it open for that someday that we'd be a family in the strongest sense of the word.  Well meaning friends say with a fortitude that I don't possess that those sons of mine will come back someday knowing that I had tried my best parenting them.  They are so sure, these friends of mine, that the hard work that I put into trying to be the best mother I could (even if some of the decisions were wayward) will cause them to come back, to want to be part of our lives again in a healthy familial way.  (Does that even exist?  Perhaps that is fodder for another post!)  


A good  friend of mine disagrees with my wish for omniscience.  He thinks that I may be still leaning on  my flawed definition of the word--hoping that being "all powerful" would somehow keep the immense disillusionment and hurt at bay.  He is a firm believer in fate, and reminds me that having the real definition of the word--the power of knowing all --wouldn't be able to change the past days, weeks, or months--no power in the universe would be that strong...and maybe someday looking back on all of this I will understand why it took place.  After all, using the past to make decisions about the future is truly the ONLY way to be purely omniscient.  

I Have Always Been a Fantasizer

On the day we arrived at the Cape, we walked over a bluff to give my daughter her first look at the ocean. As it came into view, her blue eyes grew to the size of baseballs and an audible gasp breathlessly pushed one word out of that sweet mouth, “Wow!” she whispered.

I have always been a fantasizer. I am sure that there is not one human being who knows me who is shocked by that statement. If I analyzed my tendency to live outside of reality, I would have to tell you that it started as a child; a very young child. My fantasizing began as innocent conjuring; imagining situations which if true would earn me the elusive approval of my parents. Growing up, it was apparent very early on that succeeding in a public way like winning a contest or being the best at a sport or activity instantly got the attention of good ol’ mom and dad. Alas, during my childhood it was my perception that I came up short in many areas. I wasn’t the prettiest. I wasn’t the smartest. I most DEFINITELY wasn’t the most athletic, and because I was just sort of mediocre or imagined myself to be, it seemed I also came up short in the parental attention department. And so I began to fantasize; imagine situations where I was the best and the brightest, winning accolades, standing in the front of the line with the trophy in my hand.

CONTINUE READING HERE:  www.hilltownfamilies.org/2012/07/03/fisher-42

Who's in Charge of Making Me Happy?

Are you guilty?  I know I am.  Relying upon outside sources, people, places, accolades, to "make" me happy?   In the words of Dr. Phil, "How's that workin' for ya?"  It isn't for me.  It never has worked in fact.  I mean it is an impossible situation we set up for ourselves.  No person or place can make us truly happy.  It always ends poorly especially when it is a person or people we rely upon for our contentment.  No one, no one in the world is capable of being happiness in totality. And yet I have continued to look outwardly for satisfaction, for feeling whole.  But it was just recently while following the same ol' pattern that it dawned on me that all of those annoying quotes like "I am in charge of my happiness," or "I am in charge of my mood and today I choose happiness," are really and truly true.  I am not sure why or how or where but somehow it dawned upon me that pining over the approval or attention of someone-anyone-is not the way one should go about finding happiness and contentment, because when things don't go the way we'd like with that friend or relative or colleague we resent them, as if...as if they could possibly be different just because WE need them to be in order to feel fulfilled.  How utterly self absorbed of me.  How utterly unfair.  And so to all of those who "let me down" by not providing me my much needed happiness (read dripping with sarcasm) I owe you an apology.  Here it is:

Dear You,

I am selfish.  I wanted your life to stay the same so that you could go on filling that empty cavern in my soul.  As long as you were lonely and I was lonely, as long as THAT remained a constant, then "we" would continue down the path of mutuality.  However, I've grown to love parts of you; your creativity, your wit, your ability to cry and feel deeply, your amazing intellect.  And if that is true, if my heart and soul have developed an adoration for who you are, then wanting you to stay stagnant, needing you to remain a lonely soul so that my soul remain full is a loveless act.  It is egotistical of this friend, this mother, this woman to have such treasonous thoughts.  I am certain that I don't want to be that person.  

And so dear friend, sweet city-street-soulmate, I would love to have the chance to be gracious when the last time we spoke I may not have been.  If I had another chance I'd tell you that I am truly happy for you and your prospective future whether it includes me or not. Look how far you have come in such a short time!  Your life is full of passion.  Work is thriving.  Lessons have been learned, and now it seems you are moving towards a life less lonely.  Instead of wallowing in my perceived loss, my love and respect for you demands that I rejoice in your good fortune, in your happiness, in the wings that you are unfurling.  

You have given me much during our time.  Your encouragement and validations, your swift kicks when needed, your willingness to listen and really "hear" what I was saying somehow made me feel special, understood and yes...less lonely, much less lonely.  But most importantly your absence for whatever reason has taught me perhaps the most valuable lesson that one could ever learn; the pain of missing you, the agony of waiting for that approval, acknowledgement, for the ping of a text or a buzz of a message forced my hand, forced my heart.  The waiting....waiting for someone to fill my own soul was ludicrous.  The only person responsible for my happiness for my fulfillment is me.  I could spend my life pining away for a time when your company was completely mine in some perfect manner that somehow would hopefully deliver me to the land of happiness, or I could unfurl my own figurative wings and fly towards a horizon that holds an overflowing abundance of self-love, personal fulfillment, and good old fashioned contentment.  

If I was being honest, I'd have to tell you that I haven't a clue how to even take off with my fledgling wings, let alone soar over rainbows.  But I am going to try and spend my time not waiting for happiness to come to me, but instead to start my quest to seek  it out with the winds of change at my back.  

But some things will never change.  I will always root for you.  I will forever believe in your endless talent.  I will continue to hope that your definition of family will evolve and grow.  I will want only the best for you and of course, as I have said numerous times, I will  be here whenever, if ever you need me. Just text me.  I'll listen for the ping.  Just message me.  I'll hear the buzz.  And if that time never comes, just know that I am forever grateful  that you were part of my life. without you--I would never have known that happiness, contentment, pure satisfaction starts within me.