How We Started... Sort of

 I think the conversation started with, "So... what time is church?"  Let me be clear. I'm probably not going to talk about everything.  I mean, he knows that I blog but I usually blog about my stuff.  I don't know how I feel about blogging about this.  What is this?  Who is this?  Let me start from the beginning.

I think I spoke about a few friends telling me about Ok Cupid, the dating app.  I had dated for a year and was done.  After hearing their stories (Shout out to Mallorie and Andy!!!) I decided to give a last ditch effort to date, ONE LAST TIME.  I went on the app and created a profile.  I might have told you about the worst date I have had ever in my life with Chris.  That should have cinched it but I said that I couldn't end it all on a sour note.  

Let it be said that I met amazing people while dating.  Great friends and some good guys in general I had the chance to meet and have conversations with.  I already talked about the one rotten apple that almost made me stop.  I thought about stopping but then... I didn't.  Then I met Geoff!

I said hi to him via chat.  He was in my Likes list. There was something about his face. We just started chatting. It was the end of June.  I was writing and working and stressed.  We met on a Thursday after chatting on a Monday.  We went to West Gate and walked around.  We had dinner.  We talked.  We agreed to meet again for a next date, and a next date, and a next date.  Then we just kept on hanging out.  I remember the day he came to the house to pick me up like a proper guy.  He met the children and we ended up going to my favorite coffee place.  One day, after driving around, he asked if he could take us all out to eat.  

He came to church for the first time on the weekend when the children went away to camp.  We went out to eat on Friday.  On Saturday we went hiking in Payson.  On Sunday we went to church and after, I posted the pictures of our hike on Saturday.  He kept me busy because he knew that I would be missing my babies.  I was missing my babies.  I cried while driving them to church.  They love making fun of their sappy mom.  

So... that's it, for now.  I covet your prayers for us.  My prayers have been for God's will to be done in our lives.  More to come... Praise the Lord!

On Your 93rd, Birthday, Daddy

 Today would have been my father's 93rd birthday.  He died in 1999.  Two decades has passed since his death.  I talk of him often, my human hero.  I miss him acutely.

I am not one to dwell in grief.  My father wanted so desperately for me to live.  He told me when he died to feel free to wear red and be happy.  Sweet man!  He knew he was going to a better place.  I dressed him in a navy blue suit with a red tie.  I couldn't wear red even if you paid me.  It's true I was his only child but his lessons continue.  I talk to others about his sayings and perspectives on life.  I am thankful to him because of it.

I think about the many times he messed it up.  Man, he could make mistakes.  I think about his failings.  Like all of us, he had them.  He had strange ideas about status and appearances.  It wasn't that he was shallow.  It's that he didn't discount that appearances make impressions in this world.  Here I am fighting to be true and here he is trying to teach me how to play the game.  I wanted to live life like there was no game to play.  He agreed.  He taught me that serving God allowed freedom but the game existed whether I wanted to play or not.  Maybe I'm making things too simple in explaining.  Maybe I'm making him seem more materialistic than he was, but my intention is not to offend.  I just want to acknowledge that I don't have hero worship of my father.  I loved him and if ever there is someone to choose to admire in this world, I admire him.

I check myself.  How am I feeling?  This was my first week back in person.  Next week, there will be students to teach in my classroom.  I haven't really asked how I felt about anything.  I didn't want to think about it.  If I dont ask, then I won't have to deal with the answers.  This has been how I am surviving.  I am only dealing with what is in front of me.  I am respecting my boundaries.  But now that I am thinking of my father; I can honestly say that I miss him.  His loss is like a dull ache in my heart like the way a broken bone may hurt when it rains.  

I wonder what he would say if he were to see me now.  I would like to think that he would be forgiving and somewhat proud.  My father would lack words but his face was so expressive.  His usual response was, "Oh my God!"  He had a hundred different "Oh my God's"  He used them to convey every single emotion.  I could hear him now.  My mother would ask a hundred questions.  My father would only ask about my happiness.  Isn't that how father's are?  

I think of him and his parenting.  He continues to parent through me to my children.  He whispers to me, "Vive una vida buena."  Live a good life.  In thinking of him, I have opened something up and my missing him grows.  In a bit, I will read some Neruda to commemorate.  He loved poetry.  I'm thinking Poem 17.  It is fitting.  Happy Birthday, Papi.  You are missed.

Fragile

 I was walking around my empty classroom today as they measured out the desks 6 feet apart.  I looked through the protocols put in place for Monday when the students will come back.  I have been asked about how I feel about everything.  One dear friend showed such care, it was touching.  In my head I imagined how this Covid gets around.  I saw it as if were drops of paint.  Such small things, these viruses.  I heard an old song in my head that is so poignant for these days.  The strums and rhythm came to me as if on a wind.  Why did this song pop in?  Let me tell you about it.

I first heard this song as a young adult.  My choir director, Tony, was/is like a big brother to me.  He let me call him my brother and he would bring interesting music to me.  It was like developing a palate, he was helping me develop my ear.  Sting's "Fragile" was one of the songs that came to me through him.  

"On and on the rain will fall, like tears from a star.  Tears from a star.  On and on the rain will say, 'How fragile we are.  How fragile we are."  

We are fragile.  We are all like broken pieces walking around with our jagged pieces sticking out to avoid getting hurt any farther.  Sin breaks us the moment we breathe our first breath of air.  It is mixed in with our humanity.  We need an Eraser.  You know where I am going with this, right?  The more He erases, the more me I become.  I can afford to love, I know the Fountain where love comes from.  I break and I go to the One who fixes me.  He is a Rock and I am fragile, silly fragile short-living human.  

Guys, I don't know what I am doing.  I don't.  I am fragile.  But I serve, thankfully, a strong and mighty God.  Who knows what will end up happening to me?  Only God knows.  So... I'm not going to try and figure it all out.  I'm going to trust, like a child in my Good God's plan.  I advise you other fragile humans like me, to do the same.  Praise the Lord!

Waiting for Things to Grow

 A friend of mine posted on social media a picture of her winter garden with a caption that indicated she was waiting for it to grow.  This post resonated with me.  I was wondering how to write about what is going on with me but the issue is that I am waiting for things to grow.

I have the brownest thumb, and I'm not talking about my skin color.  I love the idea of plants.  I remember going for my Master's and they made me learn how to grow a bean seed.  I brought to university my plastic bag with a wet napkin to show that I can germinate something.  I remember doing this activity in my class and having little beans sprout up from the plant and sending the plant home decorated for a Mother's Day activity.  The kids would be so excited to see this ordinary bean grow into a little plant right there in a Dixie cut filled with dirt.  They would watch every day to see if it had grown.  Sometimes we would collect data.  Sometimes we would draw what we saw.  It was fun.  My own seed, I would give away to the one that didn't wash his hands and for whatever reason didn't grow.  I had a few back ups.  

My friend has started collecting plants in her isolation.  She has named them, she is invested in these plants' welfare.  I understand this desire to see things grow.  She posts her plants and in seeing them decorate her home, they are beautiful and they make her so happy.  She tells me she is afraid that they will die.  I understand this fear well.  When the quarantine started, I brought the pothos plant Nancy gave me (Homeboy) home.  There were about 4 plants germinated from this one plant.  Homeboy, the plant, was social.  When I first brought him to school, he didn't seem to like it much just hanging on the dusty shelf of my office.  I moved him to the front office where he was touched and talked to and he thrived.  He was a very social plant.  At home, I fretted over these four plants.  I cut and was able to propagate  6 more plants.  But the ones that were already potted struggled in the areas I put them in.  One day, I put Homeboy and one of his sons outside.  The result was death.  I was able to save one stem from what I think is the original plant.  I watch as he tries to grow.  The truth is that the plant is not doing well but I continue to watch and wait.  

Why am I talking about plants and why are plants resonating with me?  Relationships don't happen on their own, much like plants.  I am in a relationship.  I get questions.  I want to address the questions.  I want to write about it.  I do.  But the fact of the matter is that I'm waiting for things to grow.  It's going well.  Plants need water and light.  Relationships need what they need, communication, trust and honesty.  I'm happy and excited.  I'm praying about it.  I'm hopeful.  I'm smiling as I write that one word, HOPEFUL.  It's a big word.  But really, my hope is in God who knows so much more than I do about growing plants, humans and relationships.  Be worried for my little succulents. They aren't looking so well though. 

My Evening With Bean

 I was asked last week if I was free this Wednesday.  I said that I was. The request had to do with The Bean.  I was to hang out with a friend to watch this guy.  I'm up for hanging out with a friend.  The guy I was watching is called The Bean for all intents and purposes.  Well, as soon as I saw him, he smiled at me.  He has this smile that has a way that puts me in the best of moods.  He smiled when he saw me.  Today I must look wonderful because this other "babe" comes running to me.  They are killing me with these smiles.  

Let me tell you about this Bean.  He has curly brown hair and melty brown eyes.  He has a dimple.  There is definitely a way about him.  He is quick to smile and he's friendly.  He is a tiny little human bean, hence The Bean and he is about 10 pounds.  My friend, Jena and I were watching babies today for the Bible Study.  The other "babe" that came running to me is Jay, a toddler that I have lovingly watched grow up since he was a little bean himself.  

I pick up The Bean and he is light.  He loves music in a way that is amazing.  You put on a song and he listens to the voices and the music.  We sang songs and raised our hands.  There was this one song where someone hit a high note and he was singing the high note in his baby garble.  He was lifting his hands in praise.  He was!!!  Ask Jena!!!  He likes to dance and he likes percussion.  He has great rhythm and he is learning how to walk.  He likes to hang out with me on the floor.  He's very independent.  This wonderful little human bean makes me smile.  Watching him is a gift.  

I don't know if I'll be asked to hang out with him again, but it's a blessing watching the babies of the church grow into the people we are praying to the Lord that they become.  I may start looking forward to Wednesdays.  Praise the Lord!!!  Thanks Rye and Britt for lending Beanie to me.

Driving with Daddy

I continue to struggle putting thoughts and events into words.  It feels like I'm on a car ride.  I get car sick so there is no multi-tasking on car rides.  I remember sitting in the front with my Dad.  You should know that I miss my father all of the time.  I am totally a Daddy's girl.  He was definitely my hero.  

In any case, he was big on driving and on days that were a bit much for me, he would tell me in Spanish, "Let's go for a ride."  He would let me listen to any music I wanted.  There were days that I would hear a song and the tears would flow from my eyes and he would just let me sit there as the scenic views would pass by, just listening to my music and letting the tears flow.  

In the high school where I work, we are celebrating Spirit Week.  Yesterday was pajama day and today is jersey day.  The only jersey that I have are from my sorority days.  As I put on the shirt, I felt as if I was slipping on a memory.  All of a sudden, I was in my early twenties and in college.  The parties, the events, my sisters... we had so much fun!!!  It hardly seems like I am the same person as then.  Who was that girl?  I took a picture with the jersey on and it seemed like I was still the same girl that I was back then.  Has it really been almost 3 decades?

After Pace University, where I pledged, I took a year off to be a waitress.  I learned that I didn't want to be a waitress.  I went back to Pace University for a semester and then I took a semester off to figure out where to go.  I transferred to Borough of Manhattan Community College for one semester then I transferred to Lehman College where I went for two years to finish up my Bachelor's in English.  

When I went to Lehman, already I had changed so much from the party girl I once was (not too much).  This school was about 3 or 4 miles away from where I lived so my dad would drive me.  He knew I liked going through Pelham Parkway because I liked to look at the tree lined sidewalks.  Riding with Daddy was my favorite part of the day as I listened to the 90s alt favorites and New Jack swing.  Red lipstick and red flannel were the look of the day.  My look was not complete without lace up boots and either leggings or loose jeans, so loose I needed a belt to keep them up.  Driving with Daddy, I would listen to the likes of Alanis Morrisette, Nirvana, Gin Blossoms; even now I can hear the strums of Blind Melon's "No Rain."  I am stuck in a moment and it's bliss.

I can confess this now.  Everyone knows that I have a thing for Justin Timberlake. He released Justified in 2002.  On this album is this song, "Let's Take a Ride."  Man, it was like he knew me.  There were days after 9/11 when I needed to take a ride.  My father passed away in 1999 and it comforted me to hear a song like this one.

I have recently found that I still love being a passenger riding around on road trips.  Arizona is a great place to look out of windows.  I'm thankful to God always.  I am thankful for the friends and experiences I have had along the way.  With God driving, it's always a great ride.  Praise the Lord!

The In-Betweens

I have always had strong feelings about my crazy curly hair.  Right now I have it long but I have had it super short, medium length, with bangs, only using a ponytail, frizzy, straight, layers, etc...  You get the idea. I mention it because it is the best way to illustrate an in-between phase.  If you really want to know about my hair right now, it is long but I have about 5 good inches of rough ends because I dyed my hair last year and my hair didn't appreciate it one bit.  I had wanted it past my waist and healthy but even though it is close, it is still not where I want it to be.  Have you ever cut bangs?  Have you ever waited for your bangs to grow out?  Uncomfortable?  Yeah.  

There are a lot of things in my life right now that feel (not are) "in-between."  I have a tween, a teen living with me.  I am finishing up a degree (hopefully).  I sit here now on a break from work.  I think people are expecting a response. I don't really have one.  I'm just treading water or jogging to try and get to the next phase.  I want to stand here and be upset.  I want to sit here and complain.  I do!!!  Let me try it. 

"This sucks."  

"I don't like this in-betweeness." 

"I don't always know what to do."  

"I may not be comfortable."  

"I don't know how to start things sometimes."

"I don't know if I know how to finish things either."  

Okay.  That didn't really help at all.  I still have all the things I have to do and now I'm a complainer.  That's not good.

Let me try something else...

Dear God,

Dear God,

Dear God,

I don't really know how to pray right now.  I'm not sure I should pray this prayer in such a public forum.  I believe in You, God.  I believe that You have a plan, that you have a plan for my life.  God, I'm not really sure how to be a good teacher.  I don't know if talking to kids is effective.  I don't know if I'm a good mom or even a good human.  In fact, I'm sure that I am mediocre and there are definitely somethings that I am failing at.  Me, by myself is not very impressive, but I am not by myself, am I?  You are with me.  Your rod and staff comfort me (Psalm 23).  Even if I never leave this in-between.  I look to You as the source of my hope and my joy.  You are with me, God.  Thank You.

Amen

I'm smiling now.  It's that easy.  I may log off and have to pray again.  I can do that.  I may have to say a mini prayer every minute of every day.  I'm okay with that.  Honestly it's not so bad.  I can't wait to see what God has in store.  Praise the Lord!