My Grandmother, Dorothy Hockett, was not my biological grandmother. I don't know that she was any more than five feet tall, if that, but she was a powerhouse in my mind. She was dynamic and educated and articulate and always well-groomed and...refined. Yes, that's the word that often comes to mind when I think of her. Refined.
I don't know as much about her life as I would like, but I know that she was a loving wife to my Granddad and a loving mother to her own son and my Granddad's three children. I know that her life was not always easy. For all intents and purposes, she is the woman my father thinks of as Mother in the true nurturer sense of the word. She is my Grandmother. Never Grandma -- oh no. Not Nana or Grammy or anything like that. Always Grandmother. Always refined.
She was tiny and, in later years, frail. I remember her hands...she had terrible arthritis and her fingers and knuckles were swollen and her hands often did not cooperate, her joints not always straightening all the way. My Granddad did many tasks for her because her hands hurt. He drove her places, helped her dress, did much of the cooking...he loved her dearly and he showed it in every interaction I ever observed between the two of them.
I have two examples of her handwriting. One is in her Book of Mormon, given to her in the late 1940s by a family member. I love that book. It sits on my bedside table, the black leather cover fading and distintegrating a bit on the edges. The pages are no longer pristine white. But throughout that book are the verses she carefully marked with red pencil. I know she used a ruler or straightedge of some kind. The underlining is perfect, the lines straight and even. There are verses she highlighted with that red marking pencil, sometimes with yellow marking pencil. I love to read the verses she marked -- the verses that were significant and most meaningful to her. But most of all, I love to read her hand-written annotations in the margins. I can see the progression of her arthritis in those pages...in earlier days the handwriting is very clear, so proper, with each letter perfectly formed according to strict handwriting standards. And then, towards the end of her years with that precious book, her handwriting is shaky, spidery, and sometimes hard to decipher. But still she read. And still she wrote. And still she had faith.
The other example is a short note she wrote to me after Mark and I got engaged. We went to visit Grandmother and Granddad on that same trip when we got engaged and our engagement was so new and shiny and exciting. It was important to me that they meet Mark and that they like him. After the trip, she wrote me a short note and in it she shared some thoughts and advice that I treasured and tried hard to follow. I found out later that some of her advice was based on her own difficult experiences and that made the note even more precious.
There is one othe example of her handwriting I wish I still had. One weekend when I was a student at BYU, I went to visit my grandparents and asked her to proofread a paper I was writing for a class. She took her red pen and marked up my paper with great gusto. I think she enjoyed the exercise. She sent my Granddad to the local Kinko's to photocopy information on correct use of commas a semi-colons and spent at least two hours that weekend teaching me how and when to use them correctly. At the time I was a little hurt that she had found so much wrong with my paper, although I was also grateful that she took time to review it and help me improve it. I wish I had kept it.
She passed away in 1994, just a few short months after our daughter Alyssa was born. She never got to meet Alyssa.
My Grandmother's hands...painstakingly writing a note to a granddaughter embarking on a new phase of life. Painstakingly reviewing a college paper and pointing out errors and providing corrections. Painstakingly marking and annotate her scriptures. Providing physical evidence of her love for me and her love of the scriptures.
Today I fear my hands are becoming arthritic like hers, soon to be swollen and not work the way I want them to. In the last several weeks I can't remember a day that my knuckles didn't ache and swell...that playing the piano didn't cause some additional discomfort...that my knees didn't ache and swell, making it painful at times to walk up and down the stairs in our home, to change position after sitting for too long. My elbows hurt. And I can tell it is more than just little aches and pains. Rheumatoid arthritis runs in my family and I was tested for it last year. My levels were high but still in the normal range, barely. The pain went away. Now it is back.
I find myself during the day rubbing lotion into my aching hands and I remember watching my Grandmother do the same thing. I remember watching her slowly and gently rub her hands, as if she could rub the pain away. I do the same thing. It is a subconcious thing -- I don't even realize I'm doing it until I catch myself.
In this current time of trial and tribulation in my life, I find myself thinking of her often and remembering how gracefully she bore the trials and tribulations of her own life -- at least from my vantage point. I want my hands to be like hers....lovingly writing notes to family members...lovingly providing guidance and assistance...and lovingly reading and marking my scriptures and finding peace and inspiration in them.
Even all these years later, I still think of her often and wonder if she would be proud of me and how I have turned out. I imagine she would tell me to keep my chin up and just keep pushing through.
That's what I'm trying to do.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
I Have Learned....
...that some days there isn't much point in getting out of bed, and yet we do it anyway because we think surely today has to be the day that things change for the better. And sometimes it is. Sometimes -- oftimes -- it is not. But there is a small amount of strength gained every time we do it.
...that we can't escape the consequences of past stupidity. Sometimes those consequences follow us forever and we just can't get rid of them. Repentance and forgiveness do not mean that consequences are eliminated -- the consequences often remain and must be dealt with. Sometimes repeatedly.
...that history repeats itself. No matter how much we don't want it to. And the reason history repeats itself is because it is so hard to change one's nature. Which leads to...
...that changing oneself is much harder than the self-help gurus make it sound.
...that avoidance is not always (and not usually) the best coping mechanism.
...that I am the Queen of Avoidance. And procrastination. And retail therapy. These are not good things. Although they make me feel better temporarily.
...that sometimes life just sucks and there isn't a darn thing you can do about it except try again tomorrow...and the next day...and the next day.
...that you have to keep praying even when it feels like you're talking to a brick wall and not getting anywhere. If for no other reason than to show yourself that you still have hope and faith burning deep inside, somewhere.
...that I can be good enough for other people, but I am never good enough for myself. I am my own worst critic and my own worst enemy. And I have a way of living up to the self-directed put-downs and insults. And that needs to change but I don't know how to change it.
...that there are things that I'm really not good at, but I need to learn how to do them and deal with them and be a big girl about it.
...that I would never be a good poker player, but I'm pretty sure I would be a darn good alcoholic, smoker, and gambler....if I allowed myself those vices. I'm grateful that I don't. I'm grateful that I've never hit rock bottom to the point that I had a desire to engage in those activities. I have an addictive personality. I suppose I should be grateful that it only manifests itself in the ways that it does, even though I need to change those ways.
...that people expect me to be Miss Sunshine all the time. And I just can't do it. And it's too exhausting sometimes. Because when I crash, I crash hard. I don't seem to have a "medium" setting...it's either high or low. And so, in times like these, I manage to get through the work day with the Miss Sunshine facade intact and then crumble when I get home. My poor family has to deal with the fallout. It's not fair to them. But I just can't be strong all the time. I can't.
...that some of the things that scare me most in life are the things that are being thrown in my path lately. And that we shouldn't be in the situation we're in at this point in our lives. And it's my fault that we are. Entirely my fault. We've been here several times before and each time it has been 100% my fault. And each time I find a way to climb out. History repeating itself. And I don't know how to break the cycle. This time, though, I can't find a way to climb out. In this current storm, it feels like I'm on the Titanic and there aren't any life boats left.
....that I can't do more than I'm doing. There are only so many hours in the day and my energy only stretches so far. I cannot run faster than I have strength, no matter how hard I try.
...that sometimes life is just too real, too rough, too raw, and too big. Now is one of those times.
...that sometimes I phyically wrap my arms around myself to try to hold myself together. And sometimes I can't open my mouth because the moment I do, the tears will come and I won't be able to stop them.
...that even in all of this darkness and turmoil, I have been blessed with loving family and friends who try hard to share their light when mine is flickering and threatening to go out.
...that somehow, God is aware of me and my struggles and my anxiety and fear and panic. I have to believe that. I just have to. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Just. Keep. Swimming. Just keep your head above water a little while longer...it has to get better.
Please don't think this post means I'm going to do something drastic and stupid. I'm not. I just need an outlet. You don't have to respond. I just need an outlet...someplace to get it all out so I don't vent all of my fear and frustration on my family.
...that we can't escape the consequences of past stupidity. Sometimes those consequences follow us forever and we just can't get rid of them. Repentance and forgiveness do not mean that consequences are eliminated -- the consequences often remain and must be dealt with. Sometimes repeatedly.
...that history repeats itself. No matter how much we don't want it to. And the reason history repeats itself is because it is so hard to change one's nature. Which leads to...
...that changing oneself is much harder than the self-help gurus make it sound.
...that avoidance is not always (and not usually) the best coping mechanism.
...that I am the Queen of Avoidance. And procrastination. And retail therapy. These are not good things. Although they make me feel better temporarily.
...that sometimes life just sucks and there isn't a darn thing you can do about it except try again tomorrow...and the next day...and the next day.
...that you have to keep praying even when it feels like you're talking to a brick wall and not getting anywhere. If for no other reason than to show yourself that you still have hope and faith burning deep inside, somewhere.
...that I can be good enough for other people, but I am never good enough for myself. I am my own worst critic and my own worst enemy. And I have a way of living up to the self-directed put-downs and insults. And that needs to change but I don't know how to change it.
...that there are things that I'm really not good at, but I need to learn how to do them and deal with them and be a big girl about it.
...that I would never be a good poker player, but I'm pretty sure I would be a darn good alcoholic, smoker, and gambler....if I allowed myself those vices. I'm grateful that I don't. I'm grateful that I've never hit rock bottom to the point that I had a desire to engage in those activities. I have an addictive personality. I suppose I should be grateful that it only manifests itself in the ways that it does, even though I need to change those ways.
...that people expect me to be Miss Sunshine all the time. And I just can't do it. And it's too exhausting sometimes. Because when I crash, I crash hard. I don't seem to have a "medium" setting...it's either high or low. And so, in times like these, I manage to get through the work day with the Miss Sunshine facade intact and then crumble when I get home. My poor family has to deal with the fallout. It's not fair to them. But I just can't be strong all the time. I can't.
...that some of the things that scare me most in life are the things that are being thrown in my path lately. And that we shouldn't be in the situation we're in at this point in our lives. And it's my fault that we are. Entirely my fault. We've been here several times before and each time it has been 100% my fault. And each time I find a way to climb out. History repeating itself. And I don't know how to break the cycle. This time, though, I can't find a way to climb out. In this current storm, it feels like I'm on the Titanic and there aren't any life boats left.
....that I can't do more than I'm doing. There are only so many hours in the day and my energy only stretches so far. I cannot run faster than I have strength, no matter how hard I try.
...that sometimes life is just too real, too rough, too raw, and too big. Now is one of those times.
...that sometimes I phyically wrap my arms around myself to try to hold myself together. And sometimes I can't open my mouth because the moment I do, the tears will come and I won't be able to stop them.
...that even in all of this darkness and turmoil, I have been blessed with loving family and friends who try hard to share their light when mine is flickering and threatening to go out.
...that somehow, God is aware of me and my struggles and my anxiety and fear and panic. I have to believe that. I just have to. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Just. Keep. Swimming. Just keep your head above water a little while longer...it has to get better.
Please don't think this post means I'm going to do something drastic and stupid. I'm not. I just need an outlet. You don't have to respond. I just need an outlet...someplace to get it all out so I don't vent all of my fear and frustration on my family.
Monday, February 25, 2013
The Tipping Point
The tipping point...the last straw...the straw that broke the camel's back...the thing that pushed me over the edge.
I am there. I am past there.
I am trying so desperately to cling to hope but right now hope is slipping ever so surely away from me, like water pulls back from the ocean after the wave breaks. Slipping through my fingers.
This is a safe place (since only two people read it that I know of). And so I come here to vent and give voice to my fears.
I have many. I know that fear and faith cannot coexist.
Right now, fear is winning.
I am there. I am past there.
I am trying so desperately to cling to hope but right now hope is slipping ever so surely away from me, like water pulls back from the ocean after the wave breaks. Slipping through my fingers.
This is a safe place (since only two people read it that I know of). And so I come here to vent and give voice to my fears.
I have many. I know that fear and faith cannot coexist.
Right now, fear is winning.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
The One Where I Officially Declare Myself on a Roll
Yeah, that's this one. This blog post. Because I've now posted every Sunday of 2013, I think. So I'm going to say I'm on a roll and hope I didn't just jinx next week.
Mark and Brie started their basketball tournaments this week. Mark's team has won their first two games, and Brie's team won their first game last night. In addition, she's playing on our ward YW basketball team and they won their game yesterday (59 to 16...so far our girls have the best team in the stake). Brie isn't a high scoring player (a fact which, in her mind, means she is not a good player), but she is a thinking player and an intense player. She thinks about the game, about strategy, about what she needs to do and how to do it, and she plays with everything she's got. Last night's game was a particularly rough game and it was a hard fought victory. The other team played dirty, the refs let them get away with it, and the parents in the stands were encouraging it. But she kept her head in the game and played as hard as she could. I love to watch my girls give all of their effort to something because, whatever the score at the end, as long as they played their best and gave everything they could, they have won in my book.
It's nice to see Mark coaching. He's such a good coach and he has enjoyed coaching this rec league team made up of a bunch of boys from our ward. His high school is looking for a new basketball coach and I hope he puts in for the position.
The sun is shining but the wind is blowing. It's still cold here in Virginia. A sister in our ward spoke in church today and she served a mission in Siberia where it was 40 degrees below zero frequently during the winter, and for long stretches of time. Worse than Anchorage, AK for sure. In Siberia it was winter from August through mid June. Yikes! It made me feel like a wimp.
Alyssa is doing well at BYU. We're grateful for the learning experiences she is having and that she has some good roommates who have become close friends, and we're grateful she has a wonderful bishop.
As sequestration looms on the horizon and seems unavoidable at this point in time, I am becoming more and more unsettled about our financial situation. If sequestration goes into effect, Department o Defense civilians will be furloughed 22 days from mid-April through the end of September...one day per week, 20% of our income for that time period. I have had times of peace and comfort when I think about it, but I'm still having moments of complete terror. Honestly, we're not in a financial situation to absorb a pay cut like that. I'm just not sure how we'll manage. I've thought about teaching piano lessons again but I don't have the energy by the time I get home from work after being gone for 12 hours. We're cutting back everywhere we can, trimming unnecessary expenses, etc. But I just don't know how we're going to do it. I am trying so hard to hold onto the peaceful feelings I've had and not lose faith. I pray earnestly multiple times every day for our elected politicians (I refuse to call most of them "leaders" because they are definitely NOT showing leadership in this crisis) to find a way to avoid furloughing civilian employees. It seems hopeless at this point in time. But I continue to hope and pray and try to have faith that we'll be ok. From what I understand, if the furloughs go into effect, about 70-80% of our stake will be affected, either directly because they are civil service employees, or because they work for defense contractors. We live in a relatively wealthy area (not that everyone is wealthy -- not the case) and I'm grateful that the stake leaders last year really pushed emergency preparedness...hopefully a lot of people are in a better situation than we are with this stuff looming on the horizon. This is one of those times where I just kick myself over and over and over for the poor decisions I've made....because our debt situation is 100% entirely my fault. We're trying so hard and just can't get ahead...and this furlough will make it worse. But somehow things will work out. I just have to believe that. Somehow, I just have to believe that. I've been fighting a headache for a few days and I've finally figured out that it's a tension headache from all of this stress. I need to get rid of it.
I desperately wish that I was taking ballet classes right now -- I need the therapy ballet provides me...I need the absolute discipline, the absolute focus, the controlled movement, the carefully contained energy, and the weekly opportunity to lose myself in something that I love so deeply and escape the world around me. Alas, it is definitely not in the budget right now, nor have I been able to find time to work on ballet myself at home. I need to do that. I find myself become short-tempered and impatient with my family and people at work and I know it's because I need that outlet for my stress and tension. *sigh*
I have the opportunity to go out with the sister missionaries this week. I have to admit to being pretty scared about it but I'm hoping it will be a good experience.
Brie and Mark had the opportunity to go to DC on Friday and meet up with some of Brie's friends and former classmates who are here on a field trip. I wanted to go with them and meet my dear friend Brenda Taylor, one of the teachers leading the field trip, but I just couldn't get out of work this week. I think it would have done me a world of good to see her and draw from her faith and strength. But I'm glad Brie had that opportunity.
Mark and Brie started their basketball tournaments this week. Mark's team has won their first two games, and Brie's team won their first game last night. In addition, she's playing on our ward YW basketball team and they won their game yesterday (59 to 16...so far our girls have the best team in the stake). Brie isn't a high scoring player (a fact which, in her mind, means she is not a good player), but she is a thinking player and an intense player. She thinks about the game, about strategy, about what she needs to do and how to do it, and she plays with everything she's got. Last night's game was a particularly rough game and it was a hard fought victory. The other team played dirty, the refs let them get away with it, and the parents in the stands were encouraging it. But she kept her head in the game and played as hard as she could. I love to watch my girls give all of their effort to something because, whatever the score at the end, as long as they played their best and gave everything they could, they have won in my book.
It's nice to see Mark coaching. He's such a good coach and he has enjoyed coaching this rec league team made up of a bunch of boys from our ward. His high school is looking for a new basketball coach and I hope he puts in for the position.
The sun is shining but the wind is blowing. It's still cold here in Virginia. A sister in our ward spoke in church today and she served a mission in Siberia where it was 40 degrees below zero frequently during the winter, and for long stretches of time. Worse than Anchorage, AK for sure. In Siberia it was winter from August through mid June. Yikes! It made me feel like a wimp.
Alyssa is doing well at BYU. We're grateful for the learning experiences she is having and that she has some good roommates who have become close friends, and we're grateful she has a wonderful bishop.
As sequestration looms on the horizon and seems unavoidable at this point in time, I am becoming more and more unsettled about our financial situation. If sequestration goes into effect, Department o Defense civilians will be furloughed 22 days from mid-April through the end of September...one day per week, 20% of our income for that time period. I have had times of peace and comfort when I think about it, but I'm still having moments of complete terror. Honestly, we're not in a financial situation to absorb a pay cut like that. I'm just not sure how we'll manage. I've thought about teaching piano lessons again but I don't have the energy by the time I get home from work after being gone for 12 hours. We're cutting back everywhere we can, trimming unnecessary expenses, etc. But I just don't know how we're going to do it. I am trying so hard to hold onto the peaceful feelings I've had and not lose faith. I pray earnestly multiple times every day for our elected politicians (I refuse to call most of them "leaders" because they are definitely NOT showing leadership in this crisis) to find a way to avoid furloughing civilian employees. It seems hopeless at this point in time. But I continue to hope and pray and try to have faith that we'll be ok. From what I understand, if the furloughs go into effect, about 70-80% of our stake will be affected, either directly because they are civil service employees, or because they work for defense contractors. We live in a relatively wealthy area (not that everyone is wealthy -- not the case) and I'm grateful that the stake leaders last year really pushed emergency preparedness...hopefully a lot of people are in a better situation than we are with this stuff looming on the horizon. This is one of those times where I just kick myself over and over and over for the poor decisions I've made....because our debt situation is 100% entirely my fault. We're trying so hard and just can't get ahead...and this furlough will make it worse. But somehow things will work out. I just have to believe that. Somehow, I just have to believe that. I've been fighting a headache for a few days and I've finally figured out that it's a tension headache from all of this stress. I need to get rid of it.
I desperately wish that I was taking ballet classes right now -- I need the therapy ballet provides me...I need the absolute discipline, the absolute focus, the controlled movement, the carefully contained energy, and the weekly opportunity to lose myself in something that I love so deeply and escape the world around me. Alas, it is definitely not in the budget right now, nor have I been able to find time to work on ballet myself at home. I need to do that. I find myself become short-tempered and impatient with my family and people at work and I know it's because I need that outlet for my stress and tension. *sigh*
I have the opportunity to go out with the sister missionaries this week. I have to admit to being pretty scared about it but I'm hoping it will be a good experience.
Brie and Mark had the opportunity to go to DC on Friday and meet up with some of Brie's friends and former classmates who are here on a field trip. I wanted to go with them and meet my dear friend Brenda Taylor, one of the teachers leading the field trip, but I just couldn't get out of work this week. I think it would have done me a world of good to see her and draw from her faith and strength. But I'm glad Brie had that opportunity.
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