My heart aches for you. How long has it been since we talked......days, weeks....months, years.
I pulled up to moms and dads briefly the other day to pick up something and charlie said quietly, "I really wish Aunt Kate didn't go"
I hold on to the days passing but with each new day and night I feel a growing ache in my heart.
Where is my better half? Of sisterhood.
The one that listens, loves, helps, heals, provides, inspires, and creates
with me.
I cannot even recall how long it has been. I know for a while I felt ok. Only after I cried so hard the day she left. We all cried. I was walking around folding laundry when we heard Aunt Kate was coming to say goodbye. Charlie, with sad eyes, collapsed on the couch and pleaded for Aunt Kate to just go. For he knew saying goodbye would be too hard. Kate started to cry and I followed. I can't remember if alex cried or merely mimicked our cries (something he is skilled at doing).
90 days charlie said over and over. Why does she have to go 90 days?
The first while felt ok. I read emails and a letter and talked to her and knew she was living a pure happy life. A life free of chaos. A life based on what is real: treating your body respectfully, gardening, healthy foods, exercise, solitude. Charlie tells just about anyone who inquires that his aunt is writing a book. "a big book" "one with lots of chapters"
tick tock tick tock
The days pass and these past few days have been so trying. My litmus tests are passing with flying colors. My mom is doing as well as she could, and other members of my family are thriving. And yet work this past week has weakened my spirit, dampened my soul, created stress to the point where I feel over it.
And then I crave my sister. Her mannerisms, humor, long hair, crooked nose, creativity, undying need for the touch of my children.
come home Kate. How many times will that feeling burn deep in my soul before you just come home and stay home.
Probably never.
Which is a beautiful things.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
What a week
I am tired of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
I wear my emotions on my sleeve, I am an open book, and I mean no harm.
Perhaps this is my weakness.
To let people in, to want to be liked, loved, accepted.
and the truth is clear
I am nowhere near perfect.
As I juggle the demands of a a toddler and 5 year old
while I clean and cook and clean and cook
and worry how to guide a talented athletic son to be a well balanced boy
As I work a "full-time" job from home
with kids in and out and in and out of my personal space.
As I walk in a doctor's office
unaware of the assault on my personal beliefs
from a personal friend.
As I say the wrong thing at the wrong time with a big heart
that changes everything.
As a reflective being I know I play my part
with my too big heart....and too big mouth.
I am going to start practicing silence.
And save my powerful words
for those that truly love me.
I wear my emotions on my sleeve, I am an open book, and I mean no harm.
Perhaps this is my weakness.
To let people in, to want to be liked, loved, accepted.
and the truth is clear
I am nowhere near perfect.
As I juggle the demands of a a toddler and 5 year old
while I clean and cook and clean and cook
and worry how to guide a talented athletic son to be a well balanced boy
As I work a "full-time" job from home
with kids in and out and in and out of my personal space.
As I walk in a doctor's office
unaware of the assault on my personal beliefs
from a personal friend.
As I say the wrong thing at the wrong time with a big heart
that changes everything.
As a reflective being I know I play my part
with my too big heart....and too big mouth.
I am going to start practicing silence.
And save my powerful words
for those that truly love me.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Back to the Basics
I am on day 3 of the new me, which is really the old me. It is working and fingers crossed I can maintain this sense of calm and peace for days, weeks, months, and years to come. At 9:00 tonight after an incredibly long day. A day where Kate and Alex were with one great friend and then the next while I worked. A day where Charlie went to school then tennis then baseball and didn't land home until 12 hours after he left....Kate finally melted down at bedtime. I am proud to say I maintained my cool. I listened to her feelings of disappointment of not getting books. I validated her feelings. But I held my line. I snuggled her, sang to her, and assured her we will have time tomorrow to read. I didn't yell, grab, feel angry.
Because I am on day 3.
When my kids, mainly the two older ones, melt down.....I am instantly solidifying. I listen. I express concern and understanding. I lower my voice, increase touch. And guess what it works. I used to live this way. For years and years. I am not sure when I changed. Maybe when I had my third. or was it when charlie entered the flipping fours. Or was it when I started working again. Or was it when I lost my web of help from family. Who knows...but more often than not I dealt with stress by yelling and anger. And I am done. hopefully.
My job isn't to dominate. My intention isn't to rule the roost with an iron fist.
It is so much bigger and more important than that. My job is to love. to guide. to model. to be their rock, their sun, their source of unconditional love.
And it is working. Here I come day 4. The trick is I visualize what the triggers are. I act out situations in my head. I lower my voice, take time to respond, seize the quiet moments to explain what attitude, dialogue, and actions aren't ok. I lecture less. I do not threaten, bribe, or use anger or force. I model what I want to see. And its working. well for three days ;)
Because I am on day 3.
When my kids, mainly the two older ones, melt down.....I am instantly solidifying. I listen. I express concern and understanding. I lower my voice, increase touch. And guess what it works. I used to live this way. For years and years. I am not sure when I changed. Maybe when I had my third. or was it when charlie entered the flipping fours. Or was it when I started working again. Or was it when I lost my web of help from family. Who knows...but more often than not I dealt with stress by yelling and anger. And I am done. hopefully.
My job isn't to dominate. My intention isn't to rule the roost with an iron fist.
It is so much bigger and more important than that. My job is to love. to guide. to model. to be their rock, their sun, their source of unconditional love.
And it is working. Here I come day 4. The trick is I visualize what the triggers are. I act out situations in my head. I lower my voice, take time to respond, seize the quiet moments to explain what attitude, dialogue, and actions aren't ok. I lecture less. I do not threaten, bribe, or use anger or force. I model what I want to see. And its working. well for three days ;)
Seder
I am elated to announce that I have fully found my village. When a mom of three can work 6 solid days in a row without a single ounce of family help, you know you have found a community so strong, so amazing, so giving, so loving and so rich in all the important qualities.
Let me back up. I own a small house. We can't afford to update it with well...anything. Although honestly I have recently had the realization (once again) that we are not the kind of people that will ever choose to spend extra money on material things. We spend plenty of money monthly, but we choose to spend it all on local and organic food, nice wine and good beer, shade grown organic coffee, and our kids sports. So I own a small house. And the yards are embarrassing, the furniture a small step away from a disgrace. And as adam likes to point out to random friends of mine...don't look too close at any one area of our house for too long.
I don't have a cleaning lady. I have three small children and a dog. in a small house, have I mentioned that. Adam works, I work. And the moments we aren't working we are out and about in the natural world with our children.
So naturally I almost never invited my amazing friends over for dinner. And yet time and time again I find myself two glasses of wine deep on a Friday afternoon at a friend's house. The kids happy hour playdate outlasted the sun going down, dinnertime and often bedtime. These thoughts raced through my head on my second or third Friday in a row of staying for drinks and dinner at a friend's house. Immediately after I specifically thought: hmmm I wonder when my friends will catch on that I never have anyone over for dinner....my friend's husband turned to me and said: So Sarah are you hosting Passover this year...next week?
I did what any slightly tipsy mom of three who claims to be half Jewish and has a major complex about having couples/families over for dinner...I said a strong and definitive YES.
And so it began.
I had to google Passover. I talked to my "more jewish friends" and started to wrap my brain around what it would look like. four families. 8 adults. 8 children. in my 1000 square foot home. 1/3 of which was my room and therefore off limits. Haggadah. What the F is a Haggadah? I started to search and read them and found them laden religion. fancy that. And not our thing.
After quite a bit of reading and searching I found an amazing humanist Haggadah. It touched upon the meaning of Passover, why certain foods are served, the history. But so much more. It covered not just the struggle of Jews thousands of years ago and throughout modern times, but the struggle for all people to obtain freedom. It mentions poverty, homophobia, racism, war, injustice. It touched upon the importance of NEVER celebrating in the demise of your enemy.
I worried for days about how my friends and their husbands would take reading a 27 page Haggadah.
I prepared food as did my lovely friends. And the evening came together. How could it not? Any tradition, any holiday that asks you to drink 4 cups of wine will turn out fine. The kids came and went. colored, listened, retreated to the playroom and then came in occasionally to drink their cup of sparkling juice as we downed our wine. We laughed and joked. But mostly we read. I could feel the intensity of everyone's thoughts. I reveled in the mindfulness of reading and listening to the struggled the Jews have endured. As the part about the Holocaust was read I felt a great surge of sadness and strength. For my dad's parents came from Poland around 1920 and left behind many family members that lost their lives during the Holocaust. I felt proud to be surrounded by families who all view life more or less through the humanist lens. Families that values humans, their values, their worth. Friends that place their energy on the welfare of all humankind.
And so my Seder came and went. The kids were slightly dumbfounded. I heard comments of being bored. I saw a few confused looks. But their plates were cleaned and their play barely interrupted. The adults ate, drank, thought, talked. Long after the Haggadah was finished I heard bits and pieces of historical and philosophical talk surface.
For me it was a victory in every sense. Inviting 3 other families into my small home. Putting myself out there in a vulnerable way. Introducing a Haggadah I felt so in touch with and at the end of the night getting the overall approval of everyone attending. Maybe even Adam. who was my biggest skeptic.
that was my Seder, with some of my closest friends. We will see what my next Passover brings.
Let me back up. I own a small house. We can't afford to update it with well...anything. Although honestly I have recently had the realization (once again) that we are not the kind of people that will ever choose to spend extra money on material things. We spend plenty of money monthly, but we choose to spend it all on local and organic food, nice wine and good beer, shade grown organic coffee, and our kids sports. So I own a small house. And the yards are embarrassing, the furniture a small step away from a disgrace. And as adam likes to point out to random friends of mine...don't look too close at any one area of our house for too long.
I don't have a cleaning lady. I have three small children and a dog. in a small house, have I mentioned that. Adam works, I work. And the moments we aren't working we are out and about in the natural world with our children.
So naturally I almost never invited my amazing friends over for dinner. And yet time and time again I find myself two glasses of wine deep on a Friday afternoon at a friend's house. The kids happy hour playdate outlasted the sun going down, dinnertime and often bedtime. These thoughts raced through my head on my second or third Friday in a row of staying for drinks and dinner at a friend's house. Immediately after I specifically thought: hmmm I wonder when my friends will catch on that I never have anyone over for dinner....my friend's husband turned to me and said: So Sarah are you hosting Passover this year...next week?
I did what any slightly tipsy mom of three who claims to be half Jewish and has a major complex about having couples/families over for dinner...I said a strong and definitive YES.
And so it began.
I had to google Passover. I talked to my "more jewish friends" and started to wrap my brain around what it would look like. four families. 8 adults. 8 children. in my 1000 square foot home. 1/3 of which was my room and therefore off limits. Haggadah. What the F is a Haggadah? I started to search and read them and found them laden religion. fancy that. And not our thing.
After quite a bit of reading and searching I found an amazing humanist Haggadah. It touched upon the meaning of Passover, why certain foods are served, the history. But so much more. It covered not just the struggle of Jews thousands of years ago and throughout modern times, but the struggle for all people to obtain freedom. It mentions poverty, homophobia, racism, war, injustice. It touched upon the importance of NEVER celebrating in the demise of your enemy.
I worried for days about how my friends and their husbands would take reading a 27 page Haggadah.
I prepared food as did my lovely friends. And the evening came together. How could it not? Any tradition, any holiday that asks you to drink 4 cups of wine will turn out fine. The kids came and went. colored, listened, retreated to the playroom and then came in occasionally to drink their cup of sparkling juice as we downed our wine. We laughed and joked. But mostly we read. I could feel the intensity of everyone's thoughts. I reveled in the mindfulness of reading and listening to the struggled the Jews have endured. As the part about the Holocaust was read I felt a great surge of sadness and strength. For my dad's parents came from Poland around 1920 and left behind many family members that lost their lives during the Holocaust. I felt proud to be surrounded by families who all view life more or less through the humanist lens. Families that values humans, their values, their worth. Friends that place their energy on the welfare of all humankind.
And so my Seder came and went. The kids were slightly dumbfounded. I heard comments of being bored. I saw a few confused looks. But their plates were cleaned and their play barely interrupted. The adults ate, drank, thought, talked. Long after the Haggadah was finished I heard bits and pieces of historical and philosophical talk surface.
For me it was a victory in every sense. Inviting 3 other families into my small home. Putting myself out there in a vulnerable way. Introducing a Haggadah I felt so in touch with and at the end of the night getting the overall approval of everyone attending. Maybe even Adam. who was my biggest skeptic.
that was my Seder, with some of my closest friends. We will see what my next Passover brings.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
It feels all too familiar. the tears streaming down my face, filling my cheeks with puddles. The ache in my heart for the ever lasting time lost. I vividly remember sitting down at my dining room table at the time of being a mother of 2 or was it 1. Of holding a letter from my sister in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Adam on the couch...minding his own business. In Amesport. And knowing the hole in my heart when my sister is not near.
And perhaps what hurts more is the loss of time we have when we are in the same town. It is so easy to do. When you find someone that cherishes your kids as if they were her own you gravitate towards reaching out when you need help...with your kids. sacrificing your own needs for a sister soul mate.
We know our closeness reaches new levels when she is gone, and our life line is a letter. in our hand. Held like a key to our hearts.
And the tears tonight flood my soul. 3 months, 90 days as my kids say. Alex will turn 2, Kate will end preschool. Charlie will become a 7 year old. Kate a kinder. I will still be me. but I will have been me without her. Something since December I have accepted.
Very little contact with your family can be weakening to the soul. a text, call, casual 5 second view can be great when no foundation for touch and love and hugs is possible.
I sat around my table tonight and felt so grateful to have the women and their husbands as well as their kids. I had this evening that filled me up in everyway.
And yet when they all left and everyone fell peacefully asleep, my heart started to ache.
I have seen her drift away before, and I know I am bound to see it again. For she has not grounded herself in the goodness of the hmb ground, but instead thrown herself into the learning life provides.
While I sit here sad that my life is too fucking busy for a beer, or a walk, or a talk with my own sister and that time is better spent cleaning, cooking, breathing, surviving....
Because in the end the single room cleaned, meal made, laundry folded, and clean house does not fill the soul with meaningful memories.
I will just keep on keeping on. And try to do better next time. in 3 months. Because as amazing as aunt kate is, for as amazing as the energy she radiates through my children is important....I miss her. I miss little sister kate.
I love you. be safe and come home soon.
And perhaps what hurts more is the loss of time we have when we are in the same town. It is so easy to do. When you find someone that cherishes your kids as if they were her own you gravitate towards reaching out when you need help...with your kids. sacrificing your own needs for a sister soul mate.
We know our closeness reaches new levels when she is gone, and our life line is a letter. in our hand. Held like a key to our hearts.
And the tears tonight flood my soul. 3 months, 90 days as my kids say. Alex will turn 2, Kate will end preschool. Charlie will become a 7 year old. Kate a kinder. I will still be me. but I will have been me without her. Something since December I have accepted.
Very little contact with your family can be weakening to the soul. a text, call, casual 5 second view can be great when no foundation for touch and love and hugs is possible.
I sat around my table tonight and felt so grateful to have the women and their husbands as well as their kids. I had this evening that filled me up in everyway.
And yet when they all left and everyone fell peacefully asleep, my heart started to ache.
I have seen her drift away before, and I know I am bound to see it again. For she has not grounded herself in the goodness of the hmb ground, but instead thrown herself into the learning life provides.
While I sit here sad that my life is too fucking busy for a beer, or a walk, or a talk with my own sister and that time is better spent cleaning, cooking, breathing, surviving....
Because in the end the single room cleaned, meal made, laundry folded, and clean house does not fill the soul with meaningful memories.
I will just keep on keeping on. And try to do better next time. in 3 months. Because as amazing as aunt kate is, for as amazing as the energy she radiates through my children is important....I miss her. I miss little sister kate.
I love you. be safe and come home soon.
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