Sunday, May 16, 2010
Well, it's finally come. Peace. Praise God. It's been a rough six weeks, but the calm after the storm has finally arrived. It didn't arrive in one big chunk but in little ways. Peace, to me, is the feeling that everything is as it should be. Now I don't mean that literally- my house is a wreck, my wood floors are mountains from flooding, and sand is everywhere, but the storm inside my heart has ended.
What am I talking about?? Well, the last six weeks have been full of death (read earlier blogs- a friend of my brother's committed suicide and two of our healthiest cats died very quickly and suddenly. ) Added to that was more drama in my original birth family than I could deal with and some memories that I had buried long ago came rushing over me like a tidal wave. ( I am not adopted, I refer to my birth family as my original family and my kids and hubby as my immediate family.) Added to that were additional worries about Bucky's family, and no way to help except to pray for Vicky and the kids.
I called a time out from visits or phone calls from some people I love very dearly. Not a permanent time out but a temporary one until I could literally get my feet under me. I found that once my family (brother and sister and my husband) knew about some childhood issues I had been through that maybe I could breathe easier and was that ever the truth. I found I had been anxious that Daddy would walk through the door, wanting to talk, or to drop off a tool, or Mama would call, or that if I called anyone I might get them on a bad day. I felt I couldn't lie down and pray without waiting for the dogs to bark announcing an unexpected visitor. Once I knew I could abide here in my house with my kids and husbands and animals with no surprises, I was like a different person.
I would like my original family to know that I love them very much. They know that, but love is action, not words. And I haven't felt like I have been in action much. I think that is one of the hardest things for me to understand- and I have been asking God to show me how to deal with it. My love language is someone who loves me calling or writing me an email or text once a week or acts of love like bringing me medicine when I am too tired to drive to the pharmacy. I don't care about gifts, or cards (they're nice but not neccesary) (Deb H, you are the card queen and I love your cards), or anything else. Just a "thinking about you but too busy to talk" email is amazing. It is for me an instant pump of helium to my heart balloon that may be coming down. Someone answering the phone when I am crying and them saying, " I"ll get your meds, Anne." is LOVE TO ME. It is " this person really does care and think of me occasionally" feeling. People can tell me they love me till they are blue in the face, but if I feel like I got forgotten in the shuffle of their very busy lives, I get so depressed. Now, most of you know I have bipolar 2. This has nothing to do with my illness- it's the way I have been forever.
With that being said, there are some people I would like to thank.
Debbie H, thank you for getting my medicine and making me feel like it was no big deal.
Mama and Daddy, thank you for picking me up at the car place when the "2 hour no big deal" wait became a five hour one and my dogs were in the house about to pee everywhere. Thanks for picking up my prescriptions. Thank you for everything you've done to help me, more than I could name. Thank you for my self esteem, you'll never know how much I have needed that and it was the one thing I never struggled with as a kid. NEVER. I know you know I love you always. Let's have dinnner here soon, I haven't had you since Dad's party.
Mom and Dad Trinkle, thank you for your constant love and support and for giving me peace about not coming to camp this year- what a gift that was. I thank you for all you have been to my kids and my husband and to me. You have shown me what God's love looks like lived out.
Susan, thank you for listening, caring, and understanding why I needed to tell you. Thanks for not being angry at me when I screw up, you have this amazing ability to not see people's mistakes, only their good sides, and I need to learn that from you.
Joyce, thank you for never shutting down the communication between us, even when you were frustrated or angry with me ( I am sure you have been at times.) Thanks for being my other sister. I love you so much and miss you so much, I am crying. :) You are so special to me.
Mike, thank you for making the effort to call me and I am sorry for my frustration. I am trying my best to understand how to communicate with you and I love you with all my heart. I am sorry for hurting you. We're good.
Jon, God only knows what a gift you are to me. Thank you for texting me from work just to say, " How's your day going, honey?" WOW, I feel so loved when you do that. I can't even tell you how loved I feel. Thanks for being the girls' chauffeur when I am in need of sleep. Thank you for your holding me when I felt like I would cry myself to death. Thank you for understanding how much I love other people and that I do mess up but you know my heart and thank you for that. Thanks for being more than I deserve and such a gift from God to me and our children. I hope and pray each day that I make you feel just that loved. If sandwiches are love then you are stuffed with them and love, literally and figuratively. :)
Laurel, thank you for everything you have always been to me- a sister, a best friend, a sounding board, and a true loving soul. I know I have been that friend and sister for you too, but you need to know that I thank God every day for bringing you into my life.
Emily and Julianna, the last thank you's go to you. You are such beautiful young ladies and most importantly, your souls glow with God's love. You are my reasons for getting up in the morning and the last thing I think of when I go to bed at night. Your mother's day cards healed my heart more than you will ever ever ever know. The words you wrote were like literally sewing up my heart. I know I have made some mistakes in life, but you are my pride and joy and God uses you to show me that I must have done something right amidst all my mistakes, when you remember something I said to you, or you remember that man looks at the outside but God looks at the heart or you tell me that I am the best mommy in the world.
This post was 'all about me" but it was really all about the other people in my life and how much they mean to me and I hope everyone feels that and knows that I care about your lives too and I know I have shown that to all of you. I love you all, Anne
Friday, May 7, 2010
I don't know how many more deaths I can take. On the left is a picture of two of our cats, Bella on the left and Cookie on the right. Cookie died Wednesday of heartworms. Yes, it is very rare in cats and no, we had no idea he was sick. I saw him under my van, which is a place he never goes and I knew INSTANTLY something was wrong. I called Jon and we brought our dear Cookie Monster in the house and I knew he was going to die. After doing rescue for so long, there is a smell of death that lingers on an animal when they are dying- that sounds bizarre and hard to believe, but even my kids know that smell when we used to get very sick squirrels. I begged Jon to take him in, as I knew I could not take this particular cat. You see, Cookie is a very special baby to me. Several years ago, our neighbor's dog killed my kitty Moses in our front yard- he didn't actually die until we we at the ER vet, but it was a horrible traumatic death. I never go out and get a new animal when one dies but a sudden traumatic death is like a scene from a movie that won't go away. So the girls and I went to Animal Care and Control and I saw Cookie and I knew he was the kitty. He hated thunderstorms and I always let him inside during them. I had a premonition that he should be an inside cat, but we have allergies and I just attributed my over protectiveness of him to the fact that Moses had been killed outside. He was killed by a disease that mosquitoes carry. Dr Rockefeller, my vet saviour called me from her office and said, " Anne, honey, it's not good." I said, " I know, Renee, I know he's going to die, he smelled like death, but WHAT IS IT??" She told me and said, " He's going down fast." I said, " Put him down now." She was so dear and asked if we wanted his body which was the most beautiful cat body in the world, with the most remarkable markings on it, but I told her through my sobs, " I cannot see his face again, I will just die, Renee." She said, " I know, I am the same way." And she said she would take care of my baby for me. I asked her if she would tell him I loved him and I was so sorry and she said, " Of course." "I'm so sorry, Anne, I am so sorry." I said thank you and hung up and held on to Jon. He was our Cookie Monster, Cookie Conker, Tootie (rhymes with cookie) Tonter and so many other little pet names. When people know you have seven cats, their reaction to the death of one is either, " Oh, that's too bad". or there are dear souls like Dale who weep with you because they know that each one is as special as the rest, no matter how many creatures you have. Thank you Renee and Dale and to all my friends who texted me to tell me how sorry they were about our baby Cookie. (He was six years old but always my baby.) Renee, when you get to heaven, God will put a special jewel in your crown shaped like a paw and say, " You will never know what comfort you gave Anne Trinkle by sending her animals to me so sweetly and with such love and empathy." I love you.