Monday, April 30, 2012

What the Heck Happened to My Blog?!

To quote Han Solo: "I'm out of it for a little while and everyone gets delusions of grandeur!"  I came to post on my blog and it has changed dramatically, looking all fancy and professional now.  Ah well...

There's almost so much to post about that I didn't blog this evening.  If I had my way, I would include pictures and links and make it super interesting to read.  But since I haven't posted in a some time, and since I don't have all day to write, I'll keep it simple.  

It probably comes as no surprise to the readership of this blog that I have many varied interests.  It should also be noted that within the past two weeks I finalized my divorce after 12 years of marriage.  There has been a song that I have repeatedly listened to throughout the separation and divorce: John Mayer's, "I'm Gonna Find Another You."  Near the end of the song he sings, "I'm gonna do some things you wouldn't let me do."  And I find myself in that stage.  I have cleared out furniture I didn't like.  I plan to move things around.  I've had an antique piano in my possession for years, but never got around to refinishing it like I said I would.  Now, knowing that I can bring it into the house when I'm done, I have been working to strip old, white paint off the beautiful, deep maroon finish.  Of course, because I have varied interests, and more so because I'm really good at starting cool, new projects, but really, really bad at finishing them, I also went out chasing butterflies one day and have happened upon a new pastime.  Butterfly catching and collecting is fun, because I can do it with the kids and they love it too.  Plus, I don't have to worry about getting approval to hang a butterfly collection in the house, so I've gone after it full force.  I've even gone so far as to order some rare butterflies online.  So I'm excited about the piano, the butterflies, the new room (that will probably have to wait until the summer to be completed) and just a chance to do something I enjoy free of the concern, "Is this okay with Heather?"

What had happened, however, and I say this with great shame, is that in the celebration of my new-found freedom I neglected to nurture the two most important relationships in my life: those with my sons.  I discovered that Aydan was very angry with me, and I hadn't spent much time with either he or Brennan.  So last week I took each boy out for ice cream on a separate night.  The two evenings were as different as the boys I spent them with.  Brennan talked nearly the whole time, telling me an entertaining story with minute details and a story-teller's flair.  Aydan, when questioned, responded with, "I don't know," "Sure," and "I guess."  I pushed him until the point that headway was made.  I told him that keeping emotions inside didn't help one to sort through them, and I gave him permission to be mad at me and to say whatever he needed to without thinking it would hurt my feelings.  He finally exploded and told me, "You want to know how I'm feeling!?!!  I feel shaken up and torn down."  My heart broke for him again.  He absolutely hates the divorce (and why shouldn't he?!), but it was starting to manifest itself as hatred for the people involved.  After he asked some really good, really tough questions, it came out that he still blamed me for the divorce.  I was able to answer most of his questions, and (upon the good advice of my mother) tell him that my heart was also broken, and that divorce was not something I wanted.   I have always tried to avoid blaming Heather or ruining their perception of their mother, but I finally had to tell my boys that I was not solely to blame in this mess.  I think it helped Aydan a great deal to talk about how he was feeling.  

Also on the good advice of my mother, and in large part to correct the imbalance of time spent with the boys, I have affirmed the family things we used to do and instituted a week of just "us" time.  Two weeks ago I pulled each boy out of their bed (after a particularly hard evening), brought them to my room, and we just snuggled and fell asleep together.  This week, we are doing something fun all together each night.  No friends.  No distractions for me.  Just us.  Unfortunately tonight I had spring league basketball for my girls team, but afterward we came back, I watched them fish, then we made (and ate) cookies and played a board game.  The cookies were so good the boys wished that Heather could have some...so we ran a plate over to her.  The biggest thing, though, was that I could actually FEEL us getting closer.  I watched a transformation take place, with the bickering and name-calling being replaced by politeness, consideration, and fun.  I've been reading, "Keep the Siblings, Lose the Rivalry" (after having completed Cartmell's, "Respectful Kids") and was reminded that time together to model and teach living-together skills is fundamental to healthy sibling relationships.  I loved watching my boys have fun together.  And it goes without saying that I felt extremely blessed to be having a blast right alongside them.  

There have been dark days.  I cannot deny that fact.  But more recently there have been beautiful, bright spots.  There have been joy-filled moments and days.  Sure, I've been busy, trying to handle everything that comes with running a home.  But I've also been blessed.  As my friend's father told her as he helped move her out of her home (she is finalizing her own divorce), "There are still great things ahead."  

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Eve

Christmas Eve is exciting.  There is anticipation.  It's joyful.  There are times spent gazing at lights on the tree, sipping a warm drink, sitting beside a fire.  It's beautiful.

Holy Saturday is something of an "eve."  It is dark and painful.  It is somber and worshipful.  We pause, waiting again with those who mourned over the dead Christ, contemplating the hopelessness of life without Him.  But even in the darkest moment, we now know there is life and hope.  This sorrowful eve breaks forth in boundless joy when the sun/Son rises on Easter.  It's beautiful.

Hey...even all Hallow's Eve is fun.  There is candy and mayhem, friends and neighbors.  On the best Halloweens there might even be a cool breeze, a warm cider, some sweet treats, perhaps even a little scare. It's beautiful in its own way.

But tonight is an eve I've never experienced before.  What will tomorrow feel like?  I certainly don't see joy and beauty.  Finality, yes.  Perhaps a sense of release.  But there is no season for this; no accompanying ritual or meal.  It is simply the full realization of "not the way it's supposed to be."  At the same time, I don't feel sad.  Maybe I've become numb.  Or perhaps this has to come in order to be able to live without constant pain and longing.

Tonight is still and cool and quiet.  Tomorrow I will no longer be a married man.