New Normal

New Normal

  I'm reading a book now that would give anyone pause to think.  It is the story of a pastor who was literally mutilated in a horrific car accident, died, experienced heaven, returned and went through a living hell to heal enough to function.  He longs to go back to heaven, especially as he endures the physical and emotional pain of healing.  Whether one believes in heaven or not, there are so many lessons to take away from 90 Minutes in Heaven by Don Piper. 

 This past year has been one of transformation for me.  Everything that I had planned for my life, changed.  Beginning with National Writing Project's loss of federal grant funding, to losing my position there, to Matt's contract ending, to well, now.  Each surprise twisted my direction, seized control of my path, and left me wondering,  what next? 

I continue to learn more about myself each day.  I have always been organized, punctual, and deliberate.  From the time I was 13, I had a plan to become a teacher and change the world through my students.  OK, that was lofty, but the point is I believed one step leads to another and as long as I was responsible, took control, and kept stepping, I could continue down my planned path.  So, I worked hard in school, volunteered with children, made sure I got into a note-worthy college of education, graduated with good grades, and went clear to the Atlantic coast to get my first teaching job.  Since then, it's been an upward trajectory to make an impact on education.  I continued on to become a teacher leader, get my masters degree, become active in the OSU Writing Project, facilitate teacher workshops, become a program associate for the national network, mentor sites at several universities, and then... CRASH...lost my job.

I'm not saying there were not obstacles along my well-planned path.  I lost my parents in my twenties, had a child and then divorced making me a single mom...on a teacher's salary (not recommended).  I got remarried and had twins, got cancer, recovered, moved from place to place as a military wife, survived one of the kids setting the house of fire...well you get the picture.  My career was very important to me; but, my three children and husband's success were equally important.  Resilience surfaced with rising each day at 4am, editing hubby's speeches in a hospital room as I awaited surgery, choosing which sporting event to miss, and lying awake to catch a son sneaking in through a window.  Yes, there were many unplanned events along my well-planned path; but, I stayed the course for 38 years thinking I'd retire from the National Writing Project and then travel the world...or at least get to Hawaii.

In 90 Minutes in Heaven, the pastor has a point where he realizes there will be a "new normal."  It dawns on him he spent a great deal of time focused on his losses and had forgotten what he had left.  He hadn't realized the opportunities he might never have tried otherwise.   He sat down and made a list of all the things he could still do.

In no way am I comparing a simple job loss to what this human has suffered.  However,  by him sharing his words,  he is impacting lives.  He made me realize finding my new normal is what I've been accomplishing these past  months.  For the first time in my life I have the gift of time to spend on myself.  As a active person immersed in purpose and touching the lives of others, at first I thought I was wasting days. I had to DO something; thus, I started my daily log of what I was "doing."  The log was a list:  "went to the Y, made tea, researched radiology, checked out more books from the library, two loads of laundry, employment office" and so it went each day.  I had to see I was accomplishing something, anything, and the list gave me a tangible, visible confirmation that I still existed!

Eight months later, my new normal is quite different.  I rise early.  Somehow that never leaves one who has done it for years.  On Monday and Wednesday it's water aerobics and yoga.  In the afternoon, I work on learning everything I can to begin my own business:   reading books on entrepreneurship, career change, social media impact, e-commerce, selling, marketing, and personal growth.  I follow blogs I never thought I'd be interested in and review websites I didn't know existed.  I'm a sponge again, revitalized with learning new skills.  On Tuesday and Thursday I work in the morning and treadmill at the Y in the afternoon.  I volunteer at church functions, soup kitchens, and make brownies when asked.  I have time to send friends cards acknowledging  their celebrations and losses, play Mah Jongg with friends, and help another rearrange a living room.   I'm focused on becoming healthier and open to the twists my path is making. 

Lack of direction still surrounds me.  Matt is applying for jobs all over the US and beyond.  He is also going back into the military reserves for the next six years to achieve full veteran status.  Should he be called to active duty, I'll be a military wife again.  We could end up anywhere.  We took our home off the market as he awaits a job in the valley.  If he gets that, we'll live separately as he commutes, or I commute, or both.  There are no answers, just willingness to accept what comes our way.

We have learned so much in these past few months.  Confirmed,  we have the best children in the world; each has offered to take us in if it comes to that. They are strong, successful, independent and caring.  Our families support us with prayer, calls, job leads, and bless my sister who offers her home every time we talk.  We have some dear friends who also hold us in prayer, send notes of encouragement and job leads, and invite us places for respite.  We love the new balance of time to share coffee, search through job leads, work out, take a motorcycle ride along the beach and just BE.  It's been hard, but we've had to learn how to receive, gracefully.  We have learned to live on nothing, have fun every free way possible, and cherish our twisting, turning, surprise-filled paths. We stay tuned in to who we are and what we have. 

 If you've continued reading, I hope you'll take some time today to reflect on your life.  What can you do?  What do you have to offer others?  What can you make of your new normal? 

anticipation

Yesterday, Matt and I served at the Five Rivers Christmas dinner.  Five Rivers is the retirement home where Mom (Kaye Mumford)  lives.  It's about four minutes from our house so we bop in and out several times a week.  We've gotten to know the director, employees, and especially mom's "table-mates"  quite well over the past few years as we visit mom, share dinners, and participate in special occasions there.  To clarify "table-mates" there are no assigned places in the dining room; but God forbid anyone change places.  The residents simply go balistic.  Seems, like when one hits there 80s or so, change is NOT a favored part of life.  Therefore, when we dine with mom, we can always count on dining with Millie and Kay as well.  They have come to think of us as their "kids."

We started our volunteer duties by pouring drinks. Over 100 family visitors trailed into the dining room and lobby, laboriously set up in festive fashion, to feast on roast beef, Chicken Cordon Bleu and all the trimmings.  After a thankful prayer by Joyful (who fits her name perfectly) the two-hour long buffet line began.  I don't even want to know how many pounds of beef I placed on plates of  hungry diners; but, I will tell you, I am now an expert at cutting pieces of beef with tongs. 

What stood out the most, though, were the faces and families.  Some residents had every person on both sides of their family there to celebrate with them.  Those unable to negotiate the buffet have loving family members that know exactly what their loved one likes...and how much of it.  I was taken back by this fact:  none of us wants to be in that situation-- of watching a loved one losing their quality of life, ability to walk, talk, remember, or do simple acts, like cut one's own food.  But the room was full of spirit and life and love yesterday.  The tenderness of a son's arm, the hippity- hop of great grandchildren, and the gift of charity and purpose enveloped me. 

Those who have known me over the years have heard many stories about my mother in law who my brother fondly titled "a hummingbird on speed."  She's always been a force to recon with and a challenge to keep up with as well.   We've basically been caring for her since 1989 when my father in law passed away.  Right after his death, we lived nearby; we were her home away from home...at least when she wasn't traveling to visit other family and friends.  Later,  she would come to Tulsa for months at a time attending the boys events.  She loved  going to work with me no matter where I was teaching, presenting a workshop or even attending a class.  Now, we are her prominent caregivers.  She lives at Five Rivers for care, but more importantly,  for social stimulation.  She formerly ran a facility for the disabled; she now views herself as Five Rivers co-director. 

Mom is one of the more congnizant residents.  The director is smart enough to know she needs constant social interaction and can be an asset if encouraged to collaborate in the day to day activities.  If you were to visit the retirement home today, you would see our 89 year old, 100 pound little boss everywhere.  She might be playing piano, helping someone find their room, in the Bingo room working on winning my inheritance, or retrieving a cup of coffee for her friend Kay.  She is seldom in her room (just ask anyone trying to call) and jumps at any free activity offered.  She'll gladly tell you a story or 1000.  (We've numbered them now.)  And you will never find her without her earmuffs!  I love her to death and she drives me absolutely crazy. 

After dinner, we went to mom's room to take care of some things.  A beautiful Christmas wreath greeted us on her door.  She "inherited" it from the family of a resident who recently passed away.  Laughing and knowing there was more to that story we entered her room. 

There it was. 

The moment we always dread.  The "real" mom emerges.  A panic attack evolves into tears because she'd lost the papers she wanted to show us.  Matt tells her four different times, in four different ways, we've already "paid that bill."  She stares blankly, her face cherub like that of a small, scared child.  She's visibly tired and sometimes winces with pain.  We know she won't rest with us there or if we take her home with us so we prepare to leave. 

After we finish the daily financial discussion, we remove the fire hazard of cut-up yarn she's stuffed in her cherished ceramic tree, dump some food from the fridge, sneak more useless paper out, and dump another vase of dead flowers she can't bare to part with.  As always, with the walker Matt insists she use, she walks us all the way to the car waving goodbye as if we were leaving on a five year stage coach journey home...as if she will never see us again. 

Driving away, her frail figure gets smaller and smaller.  I think about all the employees who stayed up all night preparing this special Christmas dinner and the daily sacrifices they make which exceed any job description imaginable.  I think about all the caregivers who came to Five Rivers yesterday.  People who were busy with shopping, baking, decorating, church choirs, and other activities begging us for time during this season of the year.  They stopped.  For a couple of hours they came to be present.  In fact, they are the present, the gift to those whose lives are diminished to anticipation of seeing them again...waiting...waiting to see them again.  A call, a card, a visit. 

It was a day of anticipation, hope, giving...the very definition of Christ's birth and the reason for this time of celebration each year. 

Top Ten Advantages to my 2011 Christmas Season

1.    No baking, no pounds.
2.    No parties, no hangovers.
3.    No gifts, no wrapping.
4.    No tree, no needles.
5.    No company, no cleaning.
6.    No lights-- economic, eco-friendly.
7.    No snow, safe driving.
8.    No cards,  free e-cards.
9.    No travel, no traffic.
10.  No materialism-- spirit-filled

Life Changes

My husband asked recently why I wasn't writing my blog.  I quit because I didn't want to share the darkness in my life; however, I was reminded today that we need to share our struggles as it is through them we grow and help others.  So, today I write.

As I'm looking back over 2011, it is hard to believe how much my life has changed.  I spent the first few months grieving my job loss from the National Writing Project, my purpose for living the past few years.  First I mourned for the organization, then on to the friendships, then on to the job aspect, and finally "the divorce."  Even though, I was just let go June 1, it seems ages ago now.   

I spent the summer in an oblivious state of shock  Playing with my granddaughter for an unforgettable seven weeks and entertaining company from June-August kept me wonderfully distracted.  Not to mention, we attended a family reunion back in July as well.  It was easy to slip into a "summer vacation" mode of thinking.  I learned how to calm myself, relax, and live totally in the moment which is a place I hadn't lived in years...maybe never before, actually.
 
As September arrived, another big change came our way.  Matt's contract ended.  It was at that point I began to note the real changes taking place in my life on so many levels.

Have you thought about unemployment insurance paperwork; I never had.  I'll never know how an uneducated person manages to get through it.  It took days to do the computer work and get the verifications needed.  Funny, I'd paid into the system some 45 years, but I'd never thought about actually needing it and how it worked.  Now, it feels uncomfortably like a handout. 

Do you know that Cobra  healthcare insurance costs twice as much as your monthly mortgage...or more.  I'd never thought of that either.  Living as a professional the last 38 years, I'd always had health insurance through my employer.  Do you realize what a benefit that is?  Not to be taken for granted!

What do you say when someone asks you what you do?  For years that has been one of the first questions I ask someone when I meet them.  NO more!  We easily equate people with their job.  But, a job is just that...a job.  It doesn't define a person.  Still, I choke every time someone asks me what I do.   Should I say what I used to do? 

Did you know job seeking has become a Google keyword match.  Your resume can go unread should a term not match the employers data base.  Should you make it to the interview process, you're looking at a series of interviews, eight, nine, ten with different employees.  I can quote the rejection letters, "Thank you for your interest in>>>> Though your resume and credentials are impressive, your skills do not meet our needs at this time."  Rephrase those two sentences and all the "no thanks" sound the same. I picture HR professionals accessing the same site and printing multitudes of these notices at a time.  They come in emails, texts, and hard copy.  But, they are all the same.  Sometimes, they mention the number of applicants.  "We had 100's or 1000's for instance.  I think winning the lottery might have better odds now. 

Here it is a few days before Christmas and I am surrounded with reminders of our situation.  The home For Sale signs greet me as I come and go, my email is full of advertisements, no phone messages on the home phone or my cell, no deadlines...no purpose.  Sometimes it feels like we are invisible.  Everything around us is moving past us, through us, beyond.  People begin to avoid you as they don't know what to say.

I got in my car this morning and thanked God for it being paid off.  Looking at the gas gauge,  I realized it was almost empty.  While employed, I  thought, Oh, time to fill up.  Now, I think, Wow, there goes 50 dollars.  How many more times will I be able to fill the tank?  Will I be living in this car at some point?   

I'm off to the YMCA to exercise, thinking about the membership dues that will need to be paid soon. I remember the homeless in our area can get vouchers for showers there.  I wonder if I'll be part of that program by the end of next year.

I pass our church and think about how much I used to give.  We always adopted at least one family to buy gifts for and contributed to the food baskets, pastor's gift, and maintained our monthly contributions.  This year I was only able to purchase candles for the windows.  We pray to keep our monthly contributions going.  I know every member is critical to our little church to keep things going. 

  So, I drive on past the church and join in the exercise class at the YMCA pool.  A fellow exerciser asks, "Now, what is your name?  I know you've been here before.  You have that traveling job; what is it you do? "  Yep, there it was, that question again.  I told her I used to work for NWP.  Her response, "Oh, you're retired now."    "No, just a product of cutbacks," I replied, feeling the need to be honest.  She looked away.  I don't blame her; I'd like to look away too.  "What's your name? I asked, hoping we could continue conversing.  She shared that she was retired and told me she used to work in Real Estate.  Later in the locker room, she was sharing stories about her recent trip to Austrailia.  I thought to myself, Ahhh, that is what I dreamed life would be like at this age and stage.  The disappointing rush of reality washed over me.  Suddenly, I felt like I was choking and couldn't wait to dress and leave. 

Back in the car, I took a deep breath.  The sun was shinning, very unusual for the Oregon Coast in December.  The trees were the greenest green and the sky  bright blue with wisps of clouds to punctuate the beauty.  All I have to do is this moment,  I thought.  Being thankful is free and being thankful is something I can control.  I thanked God for the beauty around me, the car, the warm home, and my family and friends I love so dearly. 

Arriving home, there was a box on my porch, a big red box, "MOM and DAD" it was addressed.  My heart filled.  This is all I need I thought as I placed it on the floor where we used to put up a Christmas tree.  This and my sister's fudge arrived today.  How thankful I was to have an address for these gifts to be delivered. 

A New Decade

Flowers from my sis

I turned 60 this past Monday.  I've heard a million cliches about aging like:   "It's only a number.  Numbers don't define me.  60 is the new 40,"  etc. etc.  I'm sure you've heard them too.

         I can remember when I turned 50 it felt really BIG.  Reaching 50 resembled reaching the top of a mountain knowing the next step would be descending.  In that sense, I spent the 50s in that mode of thinking.  Both my mother and stepmother died at 42.  My father died at 56 so when I reached 50 I felt the hour glass was almost empty.  I was racing against time...out of sands... the best was over. Between 40 and 50 I became like most middle-aged women- invisible.  What does that mean?  It means no one looks at you, doors once opened for you, gently shut in your face.  The guy sitting next to you on a plane doesn't notice you need help with your bag in the overhead bin.  There is no need to primp for hours because no one notices anyway.  It's an interesting phenomenon after several decades of celebrating womanhood, knowing men were glancing or flirting, feeling pretty at least some days.   This feeling of invisibility was compounded because my husband and sons and brothers never acknowledged my birthday: they simply forgot.  I was crushed.
                        I am pleasantly surprised as I enter this latest decade. I had some expectations of doing something incredibly special but they were unrealistic.  I know now, if that is what I'm expecting, I'll need to make it happen.   Turning 60 was just another day.  Most importantly, I was able to enjoy each moment of that day with my son and husband as we drove, toured, ate, drank, and rested.  Just that was enough.

Matt and Myles at the Vista House, OR

Last night I went to the theater and saved two dollars because now...I'm 60.  It's exciting  to know I've outlived the family odds.  I don't care that I'm invisible; in fact, I like it.  Let me live in the moment, shop without makeup, wear what I want, open my own doors, help others with their bags, and be exactly whatever I want to be.  I am blessed with health, friends, family, and love.  That is all I need at 60 or in any other decade.  I got the best gift this year, a gift I'm sure my parents would have loved, I have the gift of life and I plan to cherish it as long as I live.

Flowers from Michael, Sky, Riley and Sunny