sniff

This is something that Mary Margaret wrote a few weeks ago in response to an assignment. I thought I'd share it here. They are paying attention, even when we think they're not.

"Hannah, my childhood friend, is getting married in two weeks. She’s the first of my childhood friends to get married. That got me thinking about a series I read a couple of years ago, and in that series the girl had a list of things she was looking for in a guy. Then that got me thinking, “what am I looking for in a guy?”

The first thing that I thought of was, a sense of humor. Someone silly, goofy, crazy, and everything but sarcastic. The next thing on the list was, sweet; somebody who is loyal, kind, polite, and to whom family is one of the top priorities. Next is, hardworking. Someone faithful to finish what he’s doing, (Whether he likes it or not.) Someone who always thinks of who and what he’s doing it for. The next thing is romantic, some who will open every door for me and get me flowers for every occasion. The last thing on my list is something I couldn’t find a word for, and that is he has to have a good relationship with God.

When I was thinking up my list of what I was looking for, I noticed something. I was describing my Daddy. He’s funny, sweet, hardworking, romantic, and he has a good relationship with God.

Now, some of these things on my list might change when I actually start dating. But if any guys think they might be “the one”, you’ve got some big shoes to fill."

reinvention

I never thought I would need to reinvent myself. I shouldn't be surprised. People have to do it all the time, I have just never given it much thought until now.

As a young woman, I had a goal; I wanted to be a part of the music business. It was a dream come true to find that I could actually go to college and major in something like that. I graduated from Belmont and had several jobs in the music industry. Goal achieved; I was happy.

I took a brief hiatus and worked at a church office, while beginning to take classes again to explore a new career.

Enter a young man, a ring, and the goals changed. I was still happy. Happy to be by his side, happy to support his goals while achieving my own goals of being wife and mother.

I've spent nearly 20 years being the harried, homeschool mom and that journey is winding down, too. I feel restless. It's time for me to do something else but I have no idea what that should be.

I have been passionate about every goal that I have had. That is the part that is missing. Passion. I have no direction, no clue about what I want to do.

Am I too old to start over? People would say, "No, of course not," but really, am I?

a word to the wise

I am a good friend to have. Really, I am.

I will work hard for my friends, family and the groups that I join.

I don't always have to be appreciated for every little thing I do, but there comes a point when my help is so obviously either not good enough, or not wanted.

It is at that point that I withdraw my participation. I am older. I am tired. I do not have the physical or emotional energy required to fight to be included, so I will disappear. I have never intentionally caused harm to anyone, even those that have hurt me; I simply go away. Those left without me, may not ever know what they missed by not having me around, but miss out they will.

I am creative, resourceful, trustworthy, loyal, and a hard worker. I am a multi-tasking, planning, brilliant machine. If you don't need a friend like that, I will move on.

purse confessions

I got a new purse.

Not necessarily earth shattering news, I know, but it gave me reason to be introspective as I sort and transfer my belongings from the old purse to the new one.

A friend recently blogged about a woman's connection to her bag, so I won't do that here. I'm more fascinated by what my contents may reveal about me. I've been on that theme lately. I've arranged the contents into groups.

So let's see;
as iTunes would say, there are the basics;
wallet, keys, phone, hand lotion,

the next step;
full set of makeup: face, eyes, tweezers, mirror, 4 lip products,
tissues, about 15 pens, pencils, sharpies, notepad,

the deeper cuts;
first aid kit, eye drops, ibuprofen, tums, beano,

and miscellanea;
a stack of business cards promoting about 4 different theatre productions,
a paintbrush? 2 flashlights, a pink pocketknife, a tiny can of Lysol spray,
3 kinds of hand sanitizer, 4 kinds of breath mints and mini toothbrush,
4 pairs of sunglasses, 2 hand-me-down ipods, and a kindle fire.

You'd think there would be various and sundry receipts also, but no, I actually cull them out pretty regularly.

So, what does this list say?
Gone are the days of traveling light. This purse is heavy. I try to be prepared; overly prepared.
There was no hairbrush, so I either don't care what my hair looks like or I have given up. I may not care about my hair, but you won't catch me without mascara and eyeliner. I will admit my addiction to lip balms. I am never without them. It appears that I am twice as afraid of the sunlight as I am of the dark. I'm petrified of having bad breath. Ditto for germs. I am quite attached to my electronics. The medical section gives away my age.

Another confession; I carry another bag that stays in the car with more extras. Things that I have "just in case." That's the autism mom part. I have ear plugs and Mark's anti-nausea wrist bands and car chargers,  a garmin, wipes of various kinds, duplicates of the things listed above. I'm just thankful that I don't have to carry all that on my person at all times anymore, just close at hand. I need to add some duct tape to this bag. Everyone knows that you can survive a zombie apocalypse with gummy worms and duct tape.

You can analyze and come up with your own summation, but mine is this - the world (or whatever) has been unkind to me and somehow by being prepared I think I can one-up or outsmart it; protect myself and those around me. It's an illusion, I know. Trying to outsmart the universe is exhausting when all you have is a purse.

surprise

I've always thought it to be interesting when someone is surprised that I am good at something.

It's as if they look at me, size me up, and decide that because of my appearance, I must not be good for much.

I really hate that physical appearance matters so much in this world.

I hate even more that I can't quit caring about it.

continuing saga

I missed autism awareness month this year. I didn't exactly miss it, but I suppose I didn't post anything in time for April.

Nothing to say except, read this article:

http://special-ism.com/why-autism-acceptance-is-not-enough/2/

My favorite quote from this article:

"Awareness Leads to Acceptance for Most Disabilities
People who are aware of blindness do not expect blind people to try harder to see.
People who are aware of seizure disorders
do not expect those who have seizures to try harder not to seize.
People who are aware of paraplegia do not expect paraplegics to try harder to walk."

 There are several pages, but worth clicking through to read them all.

 

 

 

friend or foe

I've been attending rehearsals in a space that has one whole wall of mirrors, very helpful for dancers and dance routines.

I watch how people react to the mirror.

Some little girls walk, talk, and giggle, all while watching themselves intently in the mirror. They are mesmerized by their own image; can't take their eyes off themselves. They seemed to be pleased with what they see or at least interested.

The grown women avoid the mirror at all cost. The mirror is the enemy.

At what point does the shift begin? When does your own image become your least favorite thing to look at?

the unpublished song

this is the unpublished song

a song from the heart

a song from the soul

with questions of why does it have to be this way

will it ever change

they talk about living a life that i don't understand

i don't think it exists

not for me

i have to try harder than everyone else

to struggle to be good enough

and i never succeed

so i pretend

and no one ever knows

because i'm good at pretending

new ways to be rejected

So, if someone doesn't accept your facebook friend request, what does that mean exactly?

It's a new age and, whether we like it or not, social media is here to stay. It affects us in different ways. That it provides a quick, effective tool for communicating is without question. It also provides new ways to annoy and new ways to be rejected.

It's weird. I don't send that many friend requests, so when I do, it really is someone I want to keep up with.

I have a very ecclectic group of friends, which, after thinking about it, everyone probably does.

• The ones that have a cause they are passionate about; politics, autism, homeschooling, etc.
• Others that are promoting their business.
• The spiritual ones that keep us uplifted with scripture and worship videos.
• The family historians who post every photo of every life event.
• And the ones who tell us everything they're thinking and I mean everything.

We hold each other's hands through good times and bad, elections, debates, new babies born, and the passing of loved ones. It's become a community within itself.

 

I'm a good neighbor. I play nice. So why would someone that I know in real life pass on the chance to be my friend. I'll probably never know.

seasons and reasons

In the circles that I hang with, we toss around the phrase, a new season. I've been thrown into such a different season. I'm trying some new things, new environments, meeting new people, etc. All of that is stretching me more than I have been stretched in quite a while. Some of it by my choice, but not all of it. It has been good for me, I hope.

Along with that stretching comes the discomfort of navigating new waters and new personalities. I feel like I'm back in junior high.

I am being bullied for the first time in a long time. I didn't realize how much I have been sheltered. I am venturing out into the world, out of my comfort zone, and I have encountered a person that has been making very unkind statements referring to my size and weight. It seems to come so naturally to them, that I'm pretty certain that they must behave that way to everyone; I'm just not used to it. These are unkind things that are said to my face and in front of other people.

I will admit that I am very sensitive about my weight. Most women are. It has been a lifelong battle and not a pretty one, at that. I struggle with shame, blame, feeling unattractive and everything else that goes with it. Trust me, I am very aware of what I look like. Mirrors and photographs can ruin my day, and don't even get me started on that number on the scale.

Ridicule is so very demotivating and makes me want to crawl back into my hole; like I don't even deserve to draw breath.

So, I have to choose to move on. Do I ignore the comments or meet them head-on?

not feeling it

I think I can honestly say that this year I feel absolutely nothing about Christmas. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

I have written several times before about Christmas, and given myself the glorious freedom to enjoy it like I want. In the past, even with losses and stress, I have always still managed to find that warm fuzzy feeling somewhere. I know it's still early in the season yet, but I'm sad. I want to be a little kid full of anticipation, but there's too many much pent up disappointment and dashed hopes. Sweaters and snowmen and music and food and lights . . . . . none of it fixes anything.

I'm certainly not offended by any one else's preparations, I just feel numb. (Although, walking around Walmart on Black Friday did feel like something out of a movie, even though it was three o'clock in the afternoon.)

What do I want for Christmas?

at last I see the light

For those that don't know, we lost our Donna last night. She was my husband's older sister, only 57 years old. She had been so sick for so long. I'm supposed to be comforted by the fact that she is no longer suffering, but so far it still feels like the line from our beloved Les Mis, "there's a grief that can't be spoken; there's a pain goes on and on."

Donna didn't have children of her own, so our babies were her babies. They loved her so much and they knew that she loved them. Donna and Mary Margaret's birthdays were only a day apart so we often celebrated them together.

I do take comfort again from my sweet daughter. We knew all day yesterday that the end was near, but Ronnie and I agreed that Mark & Mary Margaret should carry on with their dress rehearsal last night. They had worked all summer for this project. I finally told Mary Margaret on the way home that her Aunt Donna was gone. Of course,  all three of us grieved together. Then she pulled out her ipod and played this song:

"All those days watching from the windows
All those years outside looking in
All that time never even knowing
Just how blind I've been
Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight
Now I'm here, suddenly I see
Standing here, it's all so clear
I'm where I am meant to be

And at last I see the light
And it's like the fog has lifted
And at last I see the light
And it's like the sky is new
And it's warm and real and bright
And the world has somehow shifted
All at once everything looks different
Now that I see you."

If you only knew how fitting these words are; a secular song, but it screamed to me, "Peace, it's ok." We sobbed and tried to sing along. I had to even pull over for a moment and stop the car. I can't read the words now without crying. How does this little girl just know the right thing to do?  She is full of grace, sweetness, and light. There is also greatness in her. Her Aunt Donna would be proud.

So, here we are at April again. Time for my annual Autism Awareness blog.

Has anything changed much since last year? Not really, no.

There might possibly be more awareness, but it hasn't trickled down to any kind of benefit for the folks living at this address. We're looking for miracles; like phone calls, invitations, friendships, and understanding. Oh, and I mustn't forget the elusive "hope."

belonging

Ugh. I hate to admit it; I have a need to belong. There, I said it. You never feel that need as strongly as when you don't belong anywhere.

I need a place. I sincerely wish that I didn't. I heard a preacher dude on the radio today say that none of us are self-sufficient; we all need each other. But what if the people that you need, don't want you to need them? Then what?

I just have this constant, nagging feeling that I'm tolerated. I'm quite sure that I'm too old to change my personality now, to try to get people to like me. So, if I was born one of those unlikeable people, is there hope? Hmm, hope. THAT is the subject for another blog

do i have to?

I think I'm going to have to buy the Rob Bell book, Love Wins, and then read it. Why? Because there's lots of talk about it and I want to know for myself. I "hear" he's being bashed, but none of the reviews I've read are mean; they simply disagree.

I have decided that being able to disagree, and still be civil, might be the one skill that is most lacking in the universe.

• Can we disagree without belittling another person and their point of view?
• Can we disagree and still be family; still be brothers and sisters in Christ?
• Can we admit that some things are black and white; while some things, quite frankly, are not?

It seems that when we disagree about the Bible, it can become a passionate debate. Truth, and how we arrive at it can be influenced by so many factors; cultural bias, tradition, personal experiences, etc., etc., etc.

The God that I'm am still learning to know is All Powerful, All Knowing, is Everywhere and is inside of me. Does He need me to attack my brother in order to defend Him? I doubt it. I think He can take care of Himself. If I hear something being spoken about Him that is so very blatantly wrong, should I say something? Maybe yes, well probably, yes.

So, how do I "stand up for the truth"? I don't know yet.

more than I bargained for

Funny that I pray and fast, and then pray some more for God to intervene in my circumstances. But instead of finding my circumstances changing, I find that my attitudes and my heart are changing.

Weird, but when I think about it, it's probably what I wanted all along.

new to me

I had a new revelation day before last - if I really don't care what anyone thinks but God, if His is the only opinion that matters,

then,

there is no more humiliation. It truly doesn't exist, along with its cronies guilt, shame, and condemnation.Their power is revoked.

One step closer to complete freedom.

There is one thing I ask, one thing I seek; to dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

burning bridges

I am in a bridge burning mood. I once again find myself dealing with the frustration and foolishness that defines human interaction. People can be so stupid, myself included.

It would be so much easier to be a hermit. I could do it, too. I really think I could. All boarded up inside my house; texting or typing instead of talking to anyone; ordering my groceries on amazon.

But,

God says I can't. That's not His plan for me. I've gotta keep dealing with the dumbness. I might have a glimmer of hope that this refining is making me more like Him. I really do want to be like Him.

my own little world

I have heard the term, "in their own little world" many times over the years. In recent years, it was used often to describe my sons and their world which included autism. In fact, the phrase was almost part of the diagnostic process. "He's in his 'own little world.'"

I have come to believe that we all create our own little worlds. My husband and I will soon have been married 20 years. It often amuses me when I think about how we have created our own sub-culture. From our entertainment choices, food, clothing, music, books, etc., etc., the list goes on, our family has created its own unique lifestyle. Things that bother me greatly don't affect others. By the same token, scenarios that don't make me think twice cause other people great distress. And so on, and so on.

Observing other couples who might seem odd, makes me laugh because their weirdness is normal to them. They fit together perfectly.

Hopefully, we can all peacefully coexist side-by-side in our little worlds.

Wearing green today

Today I'm wearing a lime green turtleneck. Not because I'm celebrating St. Patrick's Day early, but because I'm honoring a little girl who would have been 12 years old today.

This is what my own 12 year old wrote on February 2nd.


'Sup, Korley

Today I found out that Korley Davis died. I really don't know how to feel right now. I knew about her, but I never really knew her. But I do know enough that I know where she's at right now.

One of Korley's good friends, and one of my friends, goes to my church. She, and all of the students at Liberty, need God more than ever right now.

If I could say anything to Korley right now, I'd say this:


What's up, Korley?

How are you liking heaven so far? It's pretty awesome, isn't it?

We are all going to miss you and we are even going to wear your colors on Friday for your birthday!

I know that you have entered your reward in heaven and that you are having a blast right now! And I am so happy for you because you were taken out of suffering and into eternity, but I just wanted to let you know that you inspired this community so much. You taught us how to come together as friends, family, and complete strangers to reach out, encourage, and to really pray as a body of believers.

I'll see you soon, Korley. (it will be sooner for you than for me)

Love,
Mary M. Edwards


Sometimes, I can't believe I get to be her Mom.