Midlife Natalie

This year the students in kindergarten through third grade at my school had an amazing opportunity.  Each student was given a reading contract in September that, if fulfilled, earned them a new bicycle.  The opportunity was through an organization called Elves and More.  My kindergarten students worked hard learning letters, sounds, and sight words. Those that knew their letters and sounds had to reach a certain reading level by the deadline.  By the time the deadline rolled around, all but one of my students had earned a bike.  I was sad that they all didn’t achieve their goals, but the organization was adamant about the kids having to earn it.  My one student, despite me working with him one on one, just never got there.  He didn’t act like it was a big deal that he wouldn’t get a bike so I called his mom.  When I talked to his mother, she didn’t seem like she cared either and said she hadn’t been working with him at home.  She also said he had a bike already.  There was nothing more I could do at that point.

This past Saturday was bike day.

Rows of bikes lined the cafeteria, and scores of kids lined up in the hallways outside.

The kids came in, were fitted with a helmet, and then they got to choose their bike.  There were smiles all around!

The school also did a pancake breakfast and pictures with Santa so the kids were extra pumped up!

My school is a Title 1 school.  Over 90% of the students are on free lunch.  Many of them receive a food bag on Fridays so that their family will have something to feed them on the weekends.  The kids show up to school even when they are sick, because there is electricity, people who care about them, and a consistency that many of them don’t get at home.  I loved seeing them get bikes for their hard work!

When my family first moved overseas in 2002, we had much to buy.  We brought clothing, toys, bedding, and a few other essentials with us, and then spent weeks shopping for furniture, appliances, dishes, and everything else.  By the time we had most of what we needed, I was shopped out!

One of the little things we could have easily brought with us but didn’t was an alarm clock. It never crossed my mind to tell you the truth so we added alarm clock to the list of stuff we needed to purchase.  We looked everywhere for one, and finally found one at a mall department store.  It was a little, plastic, battery-operated Casio alarm clock that would have sold in the states for less than $10.  This one.  It was in a glass case with other clocks and watches.  I told the gentleman behind the counter that I wanted to buy it, and he informed me that it was approximately $25.  What???  Ok.  Well, I needed an alarm clock so I told him I would take it.  He filled out a ticket, filled out the warranty information, had me sign the paperwork, and told me that I had to pay for the clock at a register up front before he could give it to me.  Wow!  Ok.  I paid for the clock and took my ticket back to the watch/clock counter to pick it up.  It was so formal and fancy…for a little Casio alarm clock with a button for a light but no snooze.

Well, I brought that little alarm clock back to the states with me when we moved back in 2008.  I took that clock when I moved into my own apartment in 2009 and then to the house I bought in 2011.  I’ve used that little alarm clock for the last 11 years.  It was such a big deal to buy it that it made it more special.

The little knob that sets the time has grown somewhat cantankerous after so much use.  Over the last 4 years, anytime I’ve needed to change the time, I’ve had to use much care and love to get the knob to catch and turn the hands.  I was able to set the clock back in November when daylight savings time ended, but yesterday when I noticed that the clock was 5 minutes slow I couldn’t get the knob to turn.  I messed around with it and never could get it to work.  I decided it wasn’t a big deal to be 5 minutes slow and put the clock back on the nightstand.

This afternoon I noticed the clock was missing.  The dog often gets on the bed and inspects the nightstand, looking for used tissues to tear up, mostly empty water bottles to play with, or chapstick tubes to chew, so I figured she had knocked the clock off.  I found the clock under the bed with the above time on it.  It was 5:30.  I have no idea how the time changed so drastically, but nothing I did to that clock fixed it.  I had finally resigned myself to the death of that little alarm clock.  Silly and sad at the same time.

A couple of years ago I thought the little clock had given out so I bought this clock to replace it.  

It has a button for a light AND a snooze, but it’s just not the same.  I picked it up off a shelf at Walmart and paid $6 for it.  There was no warranty paperwork filled out with my name on it or fancy glass counters with salesmen making sure I paid before I received the product.  I used it for a couple of weeks, but I didn’t like it.  The faint ticking sound was different than what I was used to hearing.  The alarm, while similar in rhythm, had a slightly different tone.  The little Casio was in a drawer so I pulled it out and my girlfriend was able to get the knob to turn.  I put the new clock away and haven’t thought much about it since.

Today, I pulled the new clock out of the drawer.  I guess it’s not really a new clock anymore.  And I just stared at it.  And then I came up with the most brilliant plan!  I’m gonna take the battery out of the little Casio alarm clock.  I’ll set that new clock’s alarm for the exact time the Casio’s hands are positioned, and when it goes off I’ll put the battery back in the Casio and the time will be right!  Sheer genius I tell you!

This morning I read an article about marriage.  It is written by a Christian, from a Christian point of view, but the truths here are universal.  Here’s a link to the full article for those of you interested.

Anyway it got me thinking about grace.  I love it.  I try my best to live by it.  That seems like a silly thing to say, but it’s true.  It is such a necessary thing in relationships.  The article was written with the marriage relationship in mind, but I think it can apply to any close relationship.  The article says…

When a marriage is missing grace, the entire disposition of the relationship changes.

Little things cause big fights.

Motives are constantly questioned.

Tempers are short and often lost.

Assumptions are always made.

Conclusions are frequently jumped to.

Husbands and wives consistently lead with anger.

The past is always brought up.

The score is always kept.

(- See more at: http://refineus.org/one-missing-ingredient/#sthash.N1nm9aBV.dpuf)

It is so true!  We can overlook unkind actions and words, misunderstandings and accusations for only so long.  If there is no kindness, understanding, love, appreciation, trust, and grace to neutralize those things, love will die and the relationship will be almost impossible to repair.  I’ve said to my kids and others over and over that they should give everyone the benefit of the doubt before they ever jump to conclusions on their behavior.  Especially to those they don’t know or who haven’t ever given them a reason to truly question them.  Don’t ever assume that someone is being passive aggressive, vindictive, or sneaky.  Don’t make anyone in your life pay for the mistakes of others in your life.  Just because one friend/coworker/partner/etc. lied/was an addict/snuck around/gossiped/etc. doesn’t mean that everyone will.  Don’t be suspicious of people just because.  It ruins relationships.  (Here I will insert that one should also be wise and not taken advantage of.  If someone consistently is aggressive/vindictive/sneaky/etc., you shouldn’t overlook that behavior.  It needs to be addressed, and grace can still be shown to that person, but it will look slightly different.)

I’ve been the recipient of grace and it’s counterpart.  Grace made me want to try.  Grace made me feel guilty when I knew that no matter how kind, loving, sweet, forgiving, etc. he was, he was still a HE and that was the problem.  The opposite of grace wore me out, tore me down, and left me empty.  It was a horrible feeling, but I learned a lot from being treated that way.  Mostly, that I don’t ever want to be the reason that someone feels that emptiness.

I think the author of the article said it best when he said…

So many couples try to correct their behavior or change their communication patterns, but without grace those changes are temporary and exhausting. Grace is the starting point from which all change is made.

(Again- See more at: http://refineus.org/one-missing-ingredient/#sthash.N1nm9aBV.dpuf)

Amen, brother, amen!

In 2005, I committed to “refreshing the hearts” of others.  My basic goal was that when people were around me, I wanted them to feel like they’d had a breath of fresh air.  I wanted them to walk away feeling good.  I know I haven’t always been refreshing.  I know there are days when I downright stunk, but I’m renewing that commitment.  I want to love others, make them feel renewed and refreshed, so that when they walk away they have a smile on their faces.  

Grace to you.

I got a text from my dad tonight that surprised me.  It said,

Hey, be sure E works her schedule to be off Christmas Eve and our anniversary.  We want everyone for both.

E is my oldest…the one who works in the floral department at a local grocery store.  She was sitting across from me so after I read it, I started to tell her what it said.  Then I had to stop and look back at it because suddenly it dawned on me…

It said EVERYONE FOR CHRISTMAS EVE.

EVERYONE.

That means me AND my sister at the same time.  For Christmas.  That hasn’t happened since 2008.

In our family we do an every other year sort of thing.  Even-numbered years are spent with the in-laws doing Christmas however the in-laws do it,  and odd-numbered years are spent with our family.  We do a special meal on Christmas Eve and open presents that night as well.  Christmas day is usually spent back at our own homes with our immediate families.  During the even-numbered years, we always picked another day during the holidays to have our Christmas together so at no point did we ever miss celebrating with either side.

In 2007,  I lived overseas with my husband and four kids.  We came back to the states to spend Christmas Eve with my family.  That was the last Christmas Eve I’ve had with them. In 2008, we celebrated with them on another day, but we were fresh from moving back to the states, and I was an all around basket case as I dealt with the harsh reality of reverse culture shock, being gay, and being madly in love with a woman who chose another over me.  In 2009, I wasn’t invited to the Christmas Eve celebration because I had come out to my family, filed for divorce from my husband, and moved out of my house.  In 2010, I was invited to my parents’ on New Year’s Day which is when we exchanged presents.  My brothers and their families were both there that day as well, but my sister wouldn’t come.  In 2011, I wasn’t invited to any Christmas event on any day.  Christmas 2012, well…I think we went to my parents at some point during the holiday for a get-together with my brothers, but my sister wasn’t there for sure.  And it wasn’t the main Christmas celebration, but an extra event planned so I could participate in something.  (If you’re interested in details about the celebrations, click on the blue dates for the blog post that was written that year.)

But this year…this year they want EVERYONE on Christmas Eve.

After talking with my sister recently, I figured we would just end up at my parents for a second celebration on Christmas Day.  I knew that we were both going to be at my parents’ 50th anniversary party.  That was already a stretch for her.  I didn’t think there was any way we would all celebrate Christmas together.

And maybe I’m reading more into it than is necessary.  My dad never does say that my sister will be there too, but I can’t imagine that he and mom would leave her family out.  Maybe we’re just all invited and they might choose not to come.  Who knows.  What I do know is that I’m invited to Christmas Eve!

I don’t expect everything to be better from now on.  I have no idea what any future Christmas will look like, but I am ok with that.  I knew when I came out in 2009, that my family and Christmas would never look the same again.  Each year since has looked slightly different.  At least, now, we’re headed in the right direction.  Togetherness.

I was tagged in a photo on Facebook today and could barely look at myself.  I looked frumpy and fat.  The truth is I have gotten fat again.  I weigh the exact same as I did 10 years ago, but I wear the weight differently now.  I used to gain weight all over with a concentrated area in the tummy.  People would wonder if I was pregnant since I had a flap of fat over my 4-time c-section scar.  On September 1, 2003 I started the diet/eating plan that at one point gave me a total weight loss of 44 pounds.  I wasn’t at my lowest weight for long though, because I achieved that goal and then came back to the states for a 7 month stay 2 days later.  I entered the country and gained 5 pounds!  Just smelling the fried foods in the airport packed on a pound or two I think.  In August of 2006 I had a tummy tuck and from that point on any weight gained either went to my boobs, legs or butt.  My tummy stayed flat for the most part.  My weight fluctuated by a few pounds for the next 3-4 years.  In the last 3 years I’ve gained weight, but I haven’t really cared that much.  I lost about 15 pounds this summer and I’ve managed to keep about 11 of those pounds off.  I really need to do something, because my clothes aren’t fitting very well right now and I have no desire to go buy new, bigger clothes.  And did I mention that I look frumpy!  I have got to do something about that!  I want to look fabulous!  Working on that now.

A couple of nights ago, I had a really strange dream.  I thought I would put it out here for the masses to interpret.  The girl in the dream is the one who started it all for me. The one I am still crazy about all these years later. The one I don’t have a relationship with.  I think I’ll call her Amelie. Ok…here goes.

I was with Amelie at an unknown church where a friend of mine was pastor, and she was begging me to do this marionette puppet performance with her.  There were two rather large wooden goat marionettes that were supposed to dance to a certain song.  Amelie was so excited because the composer of the music was in the audience!  I had no idea how to manipulate marionette puppets and certainly couldn’t get a goat one to dance properly.  Amelie was giving me some pointers on how to make it work so I finally agreed to do it with her.  We went out on stage and the music started.  She started making her goat jump really high so I tried to make mine match hers.  Within seconds my goat was a tangled mess of string and body parts.  I continued to try to make it dance while I also tried to untangle the strings.  After a bit, Amelie just looked at me and stopped making her goat dance.  I thought she was disappointed in me, but it turns out the song playing was not the goat dancing song.  The crowd chuckled and someone tried to find the right song.  Meanwhile, the marionette maker came up and worked on untangling the goat.  The music started again and it still wasn’t the correct song. This time the composer came onstage and Amelie told him that the only copy of the song she had was a 45 record.  She had it backstage if he wanted her to go get it, but she wasn’t sure if they had a way to play it.  He said he had a copy of the song as well and ran to get it.  All this time, the marionette maker continued to try to untangle my puppet and the congregation of the church sang along to the second song that had played.  Jolene by Dolly Parton.  I thought it was so odd that everyone was happily singing along.   

And that’s when I woke up.  At first I was thrilled that I didn’t have to do that marionette performance.  Then I thought it was strange that the church congregation was singing along to that song.  Then I realized it was a dream.

Ok…go.

Lately I’ve looked to the future quite a bit.  I’m not wishing today away at all, but ever since Sweet Tea and I parted ways, I’ve been thinking about what happens next.  I have absolutely no desire to date anyone anytime soon.  I feel like my kids and I need a break from having other people in our lives to that extent.  I knew the kids were somewhat stressed over the whole situation, but I didn’t realize how much so.  Again…nothing against Sweet Tea or her daughter, but for some reason my kids were tense.  I guess any family dynamics change will stress kids out, and when we all moved in together, things definitely changed.  Since the big move out, my kids seem to be breathing easier and settling in to this place.  I’m so glad.  I only have a few short years left with them at home, and I want those years to be as stress free as I can make them.  If someone comes along during the next few years, I might date them, but we will not take steps to live together.  I’m not doing that again for a good long while!

Another thing I’ve thought about is where I want to live.  I love my house, but I am not crazy about the neighborhood.  The cops show up every once in a while to check out the house across the street.  They’ve visited with the house next door and another house a few doors down.  I can live here for a long time and be comfortable, but I would really love a little more privacy and a little more land.  I say that and then think about taking care of that land and my lack of time for the little bit I do have, and then I wonder if a garden home would be a better option.  I think about the fact that I have 4 kids, one of which is about to be 21, and I think about the possibility that she’ll have a child of her own before I know it.  This house is big enough for her future family to come visit and stay awhile without anyone being cramped.  Right now, I love that we can spread out here and not realize that there are 5 of us in the house.  But I wonder if a smaller home would be more cozy and promote more family time.  Who knows what I will do?  I’m sure I’ll keep this place for the next 4 years at least since my kids are still in high school.  But come June 2017, all my kids will be out of school.  What???  How is that even possible???  But it is, and who knows where I’ll go then.

I’ve also thought through some financial planning.  I am currently paying off a couple of bills, but I am looking at saving money and planning for retirement.  I won’t be able to retire until age 62 or 65 so I still have a good 18-21 years, but I want to be somewhat comfortable when I do retire.  I want to be able to visit my kids and travel without having to worry so much about money.  I might need to work longer than 65, but I hope not.  Good financial planning now will help with that later.

I also wonder what to do with my hair.  I know that seems silly, but I’ve definitely started to gray quite a bit.  I’ve been coloring it for the past 8 years.  I kept it my original color for a long time, but then I went blonder because the gray showed up less when it started to grow out.  I miss the dark though, and it now seems that the gray is darker than the blonde.  Also my hair is super curly.  I guess the gray hairs were curly, and I know that hair can change with hormones.  I am 44 now so I’m guessing that something hormonal happened.  On humid days I don’t straighten it anymore.  It’s too much work for what ends up being a ball of frizz on my head.  If the weather is nice I can straighten it, and it stays that way.  So all of that to say this…in the future I might chop off all the blonde and just go with the dark and gray.  And the curls.  I can’t forget the curls!

I’m gonna hit publish.  I’m so tired that my eyes are crossing, but I know I have more to say!!  NIghty night!

1.

This was shared on twitter yesterday, and I loved it!  I so feel that way right now.

2. I mentioned Jennifer Knapp before in a post, but I had to put the link to this here. And while I’m not in a relationship right now, I can wholeheartedly say I agree with this.

3. And just for fun, here is another link of her and Margaret Becker having fun with Christmas songs.  My girls and I have watched this over and over.  We are easily amused!

My parents will be celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary in December.  50 years!  Amazing!  Yesterday, my sister asked them what they wanted to do to celebrate.  They said they weren’t planning to do anything.  Their reason…the family dynamics now that I’m out have caused too much tension between my sister and I.  (For reminders on exactly what our relationship is like read here and here.)  They just didn’t feel like dealing with it.  It was too hard.

Hearing my mom say that she didn’t want to celebrate the monumental feat of 50 years together compelled my sister to call me.  I know that she and I have talked a couple of times in the last year, but it had to do with our kids hanging out and was all business.  Yesterday was different.  She was emotional when she called.  She didn’t like how the last 4 years had been between us, but she wasn’t sure how to change it.  She needed to hear from me.

Well, I have changed quite a bit over the last two years or so.  I am more sure of what I believe.  Before I had a hard time justifying my faith and my sexual orientation, but after many prayers, much scripture reading in more than one translation and language, and thinking about the nature of God, I have a better understanding of who I am and how He made me.  My sister said she didn’t have a problem with the idea that God made me this way.  That wasn’t the issue.  The issue for her was that we are all created with a bent toward sin.  That babies and young children tend to be selfish without being taught that behavior.  I have no problem agreeing with that.  But it’s what we do with that sin as we become aware that it is sin that matters.  We are not to be enslaved by the things that tempt us to sin.  What tempts her might not tempt me, but no matter what our temptation is, we have to fight it.  By controlling our desires and putting God first, we are giving Him glory and striving to live in holiness.  I had no real problem with anything that she said.

But…and you knew there would be a BUT…

If I am constantly praying to God to change the way He made me because it is sinful to desire to be in a same sex relationship that gives honor and glory to God, and He doesn’t do it, I’m just supposed to struggle with who I am for the rest of my life?   It’s ok to tell God that He made a mistake when He made me because this me isn’t good enough and can’t be fixed?  I know that God allows people to suffer afflictions for years and decades and wants honor and glory to come out of those situations.  People living with diseases with no hope of a cure other than a miraculous one, are in the same situation I’m in.  Is the person God made them to be, whether it’s short, tall, deep, wide, able-bodied, or abled differently not good enough?  I don’t think so.  God doesn’t make mistakes.  We are the ones who decide that we aren’t good enough.  God made us exactly perfect, each of us varying degrees of different from the others, and when we complain and ask Him to change the very thing that makes us us, we are telling Him that He messed up.  I don’t think so.

Will I still sin?  Of course.  Selfishness, anger, jealousy, gluttony, and idolatry are all things I struggle with.  I would love for God to take the temptation of food away, but I don’t need to give up food totally so that I don’t overeat.  I need to pay attention and make sure that I am careful with how much I eat and thank God for what He provides.  I don’t struggle with being gay.  I just am gay.  It’s who God made me to be.  If I am ever in a committed relationship again, I will give Him thanks, honor and glory for it and all the other ways He’s worked in my life and heart.  I won’t ask Him to decrease my love for the other person, but to increase my love for Him and His perfect plan.

There was so much more to our conversation that I haven’t put here, but I am too tired to think on it all.  Also, I didn’t change her mind on any of it.  In fact, I think she hung up more resolved in her convictions.  That’s fine.  I respect her decision.  I know it’s not one she makes lightly.  I knew when I came out that I would be changing the way my family related to me, and that quite possibly I would lose some relationships altogether.  I don’t think my relationship with my sister is completely lost at this point.  And my door will always be open for her to walk through.  She knows that.

And because I know someone will wonder, we are going to try to do a small party with all 4 kids and their families and a few of my parents’ close friends for their anniversary.  All together celebrating them.  It’s what needs to happen for all they’ve done for us.

I used to be a writer.  Not as a real job that paid the bills, but I had that artist’s soul.  I was stirred to put things on paper and in white boxes on the internet.  I couldn’t stop it.  Words poured from me like a broken tap.  There was no way to turn it off so I wrote.  I wrote about life, love, home, family, friends, sunny days, the rain, and pretty much anything else that was going on around me.  I had words for all of it.  Beautiful, meaningful, savory words.  Some of those words were shared hither and yon, but many of them were just mine.  The writing wasn’t necessarily great, but it didn’t matter.  I was moved to write, so I did.  And then something happened.  The tap slowed to a trickle.  Every once in a while there would be good, clear water, but most of what came out was murky and brown.  The sun would shine and I would say, the sun is shining.  Clouds rolled in, and all I could say was that it was cloudy.  I couldn’t find the words to describe it.  And one day, the tap just dried up.  Even beautiful, sunny days brought me no words.  Major life events, while celebrated, were told about in plain ol’ regular words.  I felt no words.  I wanted to write, but I had nothing to say.  I came here time and again with the idea that if I just started to write, something would happen.  And it didn’t.  And when I did have something to say, it didn’t sound right after I said it.  Sometimes I put the words here, but most of the time they were saved in drafts and then deleted after many attempts to edit them into some sort of meaning.  Finally, I just gave up trying.  I put down my pen, closed the text boxes, and just lived.  The living was good, but it was lacking.  I wasn’t depressed, but I hated that the thing that I loved so much was now lost to me.  People made comments about my lack of writing.  They knew how much words meant to me.  They wondered if I was ok.  I was.  I just couldn’t make words make sense anymore.  And I was busy.  I filled my life with other things and moved on.  Every once in a while I’d come here and write down some drivel and hit the publish button.  And every once in a while I’d look back at what I’d written before the drought, and I would start to feel that lump form in my throat over the death of my words.  I tried to stir my artist’s soul by listening to music since it had always been my muse, but the words just made me sad.  Sad for what had been and what I didn’t have anymore.  So I stopped listening.  I thought about taking pictures since that had also been a love of mine, but the pictures came out dull, blurry and without meaning.  I didn’t have the heart for trying anymore.  I packed the camera away, and I continued to fill my life with other things.  Normal things.  Church, work, home.  That was pretty much how it went.  Except church wasn’t always a constant.  It was something else that just reminded me of where I had been and how far away from that place I was.  I searched my soul and found solace with God.  At least he hadn’t left me.  I prayed and had to be content to just be without the words.  All I could do was continue to trudge along the path.   Over hill and dale, across deserts, and through the mire.  Me and God.  God and me.  It was hard but good. A brutal but necessary thing.  And wonder of wonders, after a long time the path is getting easier, music is celebrated again, and I am starting to see the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. But what has aroused me most is that I am hearing words to describe the sun.  For the first time in a long time, I feel words.  They are here.  They are here!