Friday, April 10, 2009

Jericho and stuff

Life seems crazy these days. Well, not actually crazy. I don't even have a word to describe it. But I think I've been in a 'funk.' I'm not writing this post to get people to say, "hang in there!" or "this too shall pass" or anything.

I'm writing it because I was laying in bed the other night thinking about how I wish there was some device that could take everything out of my head and just keep it somewhere for the night so I could sleep. And then put it back in my head in the morning and think about it again if I needed to. And then I realized that's kind of what blogs are for. I think I'll feel better if I just let some of it out.


Well, remember that one post I wrote a while ago where I mentioned how I was doing really well wtih Steve working all those hours? That kind of wore off. And I got in this mode where I just went through my days kind of half-***ed, not doing a very good job at anything I was doing. And then that was driving me crazy, because my kids were catching on, and my house was a total wreck, and it was just a strange state to be in.

And my husband said to me one night, "Hon, do you feel like we're just kind of putting up walls with each other?" And without blinking an eye I responded, "yes. I know I am. But that feels better than constantly thinking about how I wish you were here." And that was the end of the conversation. orally.

But it kept playing in my head. over and over. and I knew those walls were getting really strong. They were made out of really strong bricks.

There were bricks for every hour of overtime Steve was working but not getting paid for. There were bricks for all the times I just wanted to know when he was going to leave work, so I knew when to make supper. There were bricks for all the times he wasn't home when he thought he'd be because something came up at work. There were bricks from all the arguments that my kids had with each other every day which probably could have been avoided if I had been a little more involved with them. There were bricks for all hormones in my body from this new birth control. (and let me just say that it works REALLY well. because there's not a lot of baby-making going on when you have your period for like 7 weeks. so of COURSE I am not going to get pregnant. why did I have to pay more than 600 bucks to figure that out?) There were bricks for all the laundry loads that I had to do, for the ones that were done but not folded, and for the ones that were done and put away. oh no wait. there were none of those. But there were tons of bricks for the anger I felt toward the weather for being so messed up.

So anyway, you get my point. I had lots of bricks. and they were strong.

And then last week I was reading Renee's blog post about her husband, and her dad, and loss. And I almost always cry when I read her blog because we each lost a parent at about the same time. And I feel like we have such similar emotions about it all. So it's nice to read them in someone else's words. It's like it helps my own emotions make more sense. anyway, she was writing about being scared of losing her husband, which just happens to be my very biggest fear in life. And I know that fear is not from God. and that I'm not trusting that he'd get me through it. but it's real. I'm scared to death.

So I'm reading this blog post and bawling my eyes out. And I decided that I didn't care how bad it would hurt to think about Steve not being home when I wished he was. Because he would be coming home. which is more than some people can say about thier spouse. So I didn't care how bad it was going to hurt. I had to stop building my wall. I wasn't totally convinced I could knock the wall down yet, but I knew I at least had to stop building it.

And then I started thinking about my kids. And how they probably wondered what was up with me. And how I had such little patience with them, even when they were being perfectly good. And I thought about people like Stellan's mom, who hangs out in his PICU room all day, unable to play with him, or his older siblings who she doesn't even get to SEE very often. And I started thinking about Joel and Jess, who don't even have sweet Cora to play with or tuck into bed or celebrate a birthday with anymore.

And then there was a knock on my door. It was just after lunch time, and I wasn't expecting anyone. it was strange. So I answered the door and there was a police officer standing there. I only knew she was one because she had a bulletproof vest on. She introduced herself as Detective so-and-so, and at that moment I knew something happened to Steve. And it was too late to stop building the wall. He wouldn't even know that I felt bad about the wall, and was trying to work on it. and they sent the woman to tell me because she was probably more sensitive than the men, and I might respond better to a woman. and something happened to Steve. something happened to steve. something happened to steve.

and then she asked if I knew anything about the house across the street that's practically abandoned.

holy crap. don't do that to me....

and even though I wasn't ready for it to come down, it was like the walls of Jericho crumbling down around me. Bricks surrounding me, everywhere. That's when I wondered why in the heck I had that many bricks in the first place. Why in the heck did I waste my time building the wall at all? it didn't matter. the wall was gone now. I just had to figure out how to get out of the mess.

and that's been a slow process.

that all happened on thursday.

On saturday we both worked really hard on organizing stuff. so nothing really got cleaned, but we felt much better about the house. My dear hubby even cleaned out the nasty (NASTY) mess in the broken deep freezer. without complaining.

on sunday Steve and I were laying in bed. I'm still not to the point where I can go to sleep right away. So we had been there for a few minutes, which is all it takes for Steve to zonk out.

"pst. are you awake?"

he squeezed me. (because we all know that our mouth muscles are way harder to move when we're tired than our hand muscles.) :)

"do you still feel like there's walls between us?"


"me either."

and then I felt him twitch. that's what he does when he sleeps. but that was okay. I didn't need any more conversation. the wall was gone. and he knew it too.

And this week I made some more progress. I have {somewhat} tamed the bow-making mess MONSTER that took over our house. I cleaned the kitchen. I cleaned the living room. I played with the kids. it was fun.

And today was sunny. that helped a lot. we had a picnic outside with the neighbors. That cleared out a lot of the brick mess. I needed that.

And this weekend we have nothing planned. We can hang out. We can celebrate our Savior's triumph over death. We can just BE. and be together.

I wasn't really ready to write about the wall until I knew it was under control. And now I'm about to post it. I think that's progress.

and that's all I can really ask for. progress.


Corinne Doughan said...

Good post Andrea ... if I didn't already know why the detective came to the door I might have virtually yelled at you for scaring the buhgeebers out of me. (BTW, Sorry about the NASTY freezer ... tell Steve thank you for us :) )

Amanda said...

I admire your bravery and honesty in putting this out there, Andrea. Hope it helps you sleep better :) I think you need one of those bowls where you can store your thoughts/memories, like they have in Harry Potter -- a Pensieve, I think it's called. I have the same problem sometimes -- my mind just can't wind down!

theKband said...

What an honest post. Thank you.

Mandarina said...

Andrea, your honesty is so refreshing. I just love you! You often make me tear up when I read because I just see myself in your words and stories. The bedtime conversation was one of those moments (and I had a good laugh over the hand squeeze part too... we do that ALL the time!). Thank you so, so much for sharing your life with us.