Holidays

So, here we are again. The holiday season is upon us. There's no denying it. All the stores are starting to load up on gift cards, decor, and there's a feel to the air that is undeniably "that time of year". Last year I dreaded this time. Wracking my brain to think of gifts, cooking cooking, cooking, how the days are so short and it's dark going to and coming from work.

This year, I'm already looking forward to it all. The wreaths appearing on doors. I get to pull out my bins and smile as I lovingly unwrap family treasures- tree decorations, carved Santas, lights that twinkle. And, let's not forget- the leg lamp. I have books I want to read, movies I must watch. Time I will take. During this season I am going to say yes. Yes, I want a tree. Yes, I will think about each gift, wrap them with love. Cook and disperse goodies. Feel the joy of the season. Yes, I will.

New Adventure

So I am now 1 week into a new adventure in my life. I have started taking online classes to become an interpreter for the deaf. Until now, I have always felt like my education is right behind me. Now I feel like my education lives in the next state.

I have forgotten about taking notes, trying my hardest to memorize dates, names (dates are the worst- I can't retain dates to save my life), not to mention new vocabulary in a visual language. Sure, I took sign language in college. When did college become 20 years ago? I am remembering signs as the appear on my lists for the week, but now I am more intent on detail- recording, deleting, rerecording 1 minute slices of me signing 10 of the smallest sentences in all history. Gestures must be precise, within the box of my torso. My face must also express emotion as I gesture. I could spend hours practicing in front of a mirror. But I also have to work.

So, I'm taking extra time in the restroom at work, quickly signing the alphabet, words, sentences. Critiquing myself on the fly. What a weird thing. Watching myself on my webcam, wanting to stick my tongue out at myself at this strange voyeurism.

What am I doing? Growing, learning a lot about who I am in the process. Wish me luck!

Summertime Rolls

Sometimes in life there are ups and downs. We find ourselves falling, getting bruised, struggling to return to that happy place where we began.

This has been my summer. It started out full of promise: cool, long days and pleasant evenings. I thought I would regain my gooey center. That happy go-lucky me who is focused, full of energy and adventure. Unfortunately, this has not been the case.

I feel off-balance and unsure. Each step I take is shaky and I'm not sure if where I plant my foot is where I want to be. Me, who used to bumble down the trail hardly looking at any footfalls is consumed by where my feet have been and where they are now going. I don't want to end up lost. I don't want to be retracing my steps because of careless error. I want again to be carefree, humming a tune while feeling at one with everything around me.

But I'm not. I feel stuck. Standing, turning in every direction. Not sure which path to take. Should I turn back? Cautiously return to that last fork in the road and choose the other way? Or should I forge ahead into the unknown with faith my only guide?

I'm stressed. I feel the weight of responsibilities. Family, financial, friends. Family is causing me to pause on the side of the path, sadness prevents me from seeing clearly to move forward. I feel such loss from my grandfather, such pain from my grandmother. The frustration and resentment from their children. Now J's grandmother fighting, not fighting. So far away, but constantly here with me. Distress of his mom, distance from his father.

Financial guilt consumes me. I know this is the path to something new, fulfilling, something that is only for me. But, the guilt of spending money on education is a burden. I'm so cautious that I have to be careful to not let inaction become my decision. I cannot be passive.

So, summer, a time that should be filled with fun, vacations, no worries is something of a crisis. So, I sit. Precariously perched. I'm watching everything around me, hesitant to move forward. Imploding on emotion.

Grace and Ted

I dream of her always, even when I don't dream and her name's on my tongue and her blood's in my stream. ~John Prine

Family. They are all shapes, all sizes, all varieties of people. Everyone is given a title they wear like a badge. I am granddaughter, daughter, sister, aunt, wife. How I came to be here is because of my grandparents. I mean that literally. I'm alive because of them. I am also in Montana because of them. They are not only grandparents, but also the most endearing couple I have ever met. I was recommended to read the Notebook by Nicholas Sparks. When I finished it, I thought “that's no story- someone should write the story of my grandparents, now that's a love story.” It goes something like this:

Ted Mikels grew up poor in a large family. At a young age he showed passion and talent for art, but was discouraged from it because it wasn't something to make money from and wasn't considered an appropriate interest for a man of that era. He was invited to travel to France to study with his art teacher, but wasn't allowed to go due to the image that it would be inappropriate for a young man to travel abroad with a woman. In high school, he was forced to forgo school in order to work and bring in money to his desperate family.

Grace Tucker grew up in a family of girls. The Tuckers were proper, straightforward people who could be counted on to accomplish. In high school, Grace delivered papers. She took her job seriously and would insist on timely payment from her subscribers. One day when she was given a hard time, she was seen in the street during an argument that may or may not have turned into her hitting someone with a newspaper. Ted Mikels' father saw this and remarked “who is that boy?” to which Ted replied “that's no boy, that's Grace Tucker”. He was already desperately in love.

Their love has endured 70 years of marriage, world wars, open heart surgery, family tragedies, and continues to blaze in full view of everyone who meets them. I am blessed to have the opportunity to know them as people, not only as grandparents. Their love has helped shape me as a person and continues to inspire me to live life to it's fullest, with an open heart and mind to the future despite the fact that they won't be there.

I am receiving reports from my parents that Ted (Pappaw to me) is “not doing well” since returning from a recent family wedding trip. It is my biggest fear that I will not see him again. This powerful, talented man would play drawing games with us as children for endless hours. This game consisted of us drawing a squiggle on paper and he would draw something amazing from it. We always tried to stump him, but never could.

His fingers are now gnarled, no longer able to draw, paint, or carve. This must be torture for someone who was always creating. He finally graduated high school at age 80. His love of music, literature, and art burst through a childhood that tried it's best to suppress it. He still gets tears in his eyes when talking about life in the Yaak (Montana) before he had a heart attack. He still charms an audience by telling stories of his life and inspires everyone who knows him because this man- he knows love, he knows the meaning of life and his willpower overcomes the inadequacies of his physical body to stay with the woman he loves, because she needs him.

This is a great story. Maybe the problem with this story is that it can't really be told. It must be experienced. I have experienced it and am all the richer for it.