Do Good Day, 2022

It's been almost 3 years since I've last blogged. Oof. That's not lost on me. And that's not to say I've not been writing- I've just not been posting it here. In the weeks to come I'll update everyone on what I'm working on, but first, let's address Do Good Day. 

This coming Saturday would be my Daddy's birthday. For those of you new to my world, I'll sum up quickly what you've missed. My Daddy was my biggest fan, loudest cheerleader, and funniest comedian. He died tragically in 2012... so this is the 10th year we've "celebrated" his birthday without him. He lived a very giving life- one full of random acts of kindness- and we've chosen to honor his life by doing good in his memory. More info about the Do Good movement can be found here. 

This upcoming weekend, we'd like to invite you to join us for a Do Good celebration. Feel free to bring a snack and a story. Our home will be open for guests starting at 4 and will go as late as it goes. There will be food, crafts, a chance to make new friends and share some laughs. All are welcome, everyone is invited. While you're here, we'll have a chance for your kids to have a tangible "Do Good" take home. We'll also have a box where you can donate gift cards or cash- we always try to stay ready to help when there's a need. 

Finally, we'll have a way for you to leave details about people/ situations that you know of where people could use some goodness. Our net is cast wide- but we're sure we're missing some obvious ways to give back some love. 

 Join us. Do good with us. Celebrate.

Boxes.

We arrived to our new life in July. I don't even know how to describe July. It was a mess of boxes and travel and time with some of our favorite people... and chaos. In August, Dan was still hoping to travel... I needed to stay put for a bit. So he took the girls to Disney, and I stayed here to get us settled. I unpacked some of the boxes, spent time with some friends, binge watched some shows, and enjoyed our new view.

School started for the girls. Dan still had some time off and we worked on unpacking the basement. During this time, I ended up with a jacked up back, a bizarrely jacked up eye, and general frustration that things weren't getting unpacked as quickly as I'd hoped.  The boxes persisted.  

A storm threatened our house. We boarded up and headed west. I already had a trip booked, so I carried on as usual. Dan and the girls stayed with our friends. The boxes stayed behind. 

The storm came and went- we only lost a few shingles. We had one final week of Dan being off- so down in the basement we spent time. We also went to brunch. And watched TV. And cooked. And still... boxes.

Dan has just started his new job. They girls are getting in to routines at school. I've just started to make friends in our neighborhood. We've had people over for dinner. We've been to playdates and cookouts. We've figured out our grocery store layouts. We have our favorite local restaurants. We see the water daily.

And here's where we are with the boxes... The way our new house is laid out, we have as much space as we did in our Winston house, it's just is designed completely different. Currently, the basement is unfinished. To have the amount of space we'd like to use, we need to have the basement finished. Our goal is to do that by Christmas. The problem with that is that we are still floor to ceiling boxes in parts of the basement. Until we have furniture in place, we can't unpack the boxes. Until the boxes are moved, the furniture can't be in place. 

People have told us that it took them a year- or longer- to get fully unpacked. Others have told us that they still have boxes from their moves years ago that they still haven't unpacked them. UGH. While that makes me feel "normal"... it also stresses me out that it could take us that long to be fully settled.

These boxes are making me crazy. Everyone has words to share: "If you haven't used it yet, do you need it?" "Shouldn't you throw half of that away anyway?" "Take your time! The boxes will still be there when you're ready!" All of those statements come from well- meaning people. And I get it... but we've spent MONTHS getting rid of things and it feels like it's never going to end.

This was my view this morning right before I driving to our bus stop. I see this loveliness daily. Even Monday- when I immediately went back to bed because I'd had an asthma attack. Even on days without the boxes unpacked. I'm trying to remind myself that this is my view... not the stacks of boxes. And when you hear a great cheer coming in the days to come, it will mean we have the boxes unpacked. I'm not sure how soon that will happen, but until then I will tend to the boxes when I'm able, and enjoy our view when I'm not. 

 

Moving Right Along...

Dan and I started dating November 4, 1999. By the end of November we had said the "I Love You"s that usually took longer to say.  By January we had planned a future together.  We were engaged January 15, and then married May 13, 2000. 

In 2003, We heard about a job at the RMH one day... the next day I applied, and soon we were packing boxes to move.

February 2008, we looked at our current house for the first time.  At the end of the visit, we told the owners that we wanted to buy the house. No major discussions, no weighing pros and cons for weeks on end... we knew that it fit what we wanted in size and price, so we said yes.

We don't do slow.

When things make sense, we act quickly.

Last fall, things started to fall apart at Dan's job.  He began putting feelers out and knew that he'd soon be looking for a new employer. We had NO intention to leave Winston-Salem. While we originally thought this was just a stop on the road for residency, it has been home to us for 17 years. This is where my children came home to- from both the hospital and from another birth mother. This is where I sat beside my mother as she died. This is where I grew into my life as an adult. It's where we found lifelong friends who walked with us through joy and pain. It's where my home has been filled with family and friends time after time. The only time we thought about moving was when we prayed about moving to Arizona with our friends to help plant a church. (At that time, my Mom's care was still local, so it wasn't an option.)

This time, though, as Dan was looking at multiple job options, I said... "What about broadening your search?" Immediately I envisioned us living in my WNC mountains. I started thinking about regular hang outs with my childhood friends and breakfasts at Biscuit Head on the regular. Dan started researching... and then applying.

During these conversations- something happened that I can only regard as prompting from the Holy Spirit. I uttered the words: "What about Wilmington?"

Those of you who know me know that this is as far from my comfort zone as I could imagine. Living that far from Asheville? Away from my friends here? What in the actual hell was I thinking. Which again is why I have to assume it was the Spirit prompting me to offer.

Dan looked at my like I had 4 heads and said "Are you being serious?" My Eastern NC husband has forever been in love with that end of the state and would love nothing more than to live in Hampstead- in a home he helped his father build in the late 80s.

He started looking at jobs there, and quickly things started falling into place.

AND he got an offer in the mountains. When I said to him "I don't think you're supposed to take it," I wondered, too, if I had lost my mind.

Fast forward through all of the details and contractors and more details and house prep both here and in Hampstead... and we are moving. Dan is in the process of saying yes to an employer who has made a wonderful offer for him professionally... and I am in the process of losing my mind with all of the details that I have to juggle to get us to Wilmington.

We will move sometime this summer. Dan's last day at Daymark is June 14- then he and Eliza (my child formally known as Elizabeth) will head with a group from her school to Europe for a whirlwind trip. We are still planning on Wild Goose and a beach vacation (ha! booked before we knew we were heading to the coast!) and Eliza will still go to DukeTIP for camp. Other than that we have no idea what will happen when.

We will be living in Hampstead, a suburb of Wilmington, in the house Dan helped build which overlooks the Intercoastal Waterway. Our house is "across" from Topsail Beach. Please come visit.

In the meantime, we'll be packing and crying and celebrating and crying some more about leaving behind this town that we love so much. We're grateful to have your prayers in this process... it's a lot.

Eliza is thrilled about a fresh start... Julianna is apprehensive that she will leave behind some of her toys. Dan is excited about being "home"... and I am excited about a new chapter, a chance to focus on my writing some more, and a lovely wrap around screened in porch. Please come visit. Did I say that already?

I'd love to have a cup of coffee with you on the porch where we'll have this view... and we can sit and talk long enough to switch over to other beverages later in the day.  And maybe then I can give you even more details of the story and you'll understand why I've dropped so many balls the last few months. Or maybe, we'll just be together and the salt air will make us forget it all.

Alarm clocks and Polly and joy.

Dan's alarm clock woke me up this morning. Early. And loud. Louder, truly, than during the week because for some reason he had changed it from the regular "beep" that is maddening to a "radio" setting.  Honestly, I didn't even know that his alarm clock had a radio on it.  But it was LOUD. And it was early.  And I was frustrated.


The last few weeks have been rough- to say the least- for our family.  I have been drowning a bit- and can admit that now as I am coming out of that space.  Several weeks ago it became apparent that something big was going to change in my beloved job.  I was in regular contact with our board chair- nothing was a surprise for me- but my heart has been broken as we have put The Abraham Project on hold for the upcoming year.  I don't know if down the road it will rebirth itself as something new or not.  But as of now, this program I have fallen head over heels in love with has come to an end.

At the beginning of those weeks of conversations about closing it down, I'll admit that I took part of it personally.  Then I began to see that parts that were outside of my control and then my heart was able to look more clearly at what truth was already there- that to all things, there is a season.

Unfortunately, during the same time this was all going down, it hit Elizabeth for the first time that her Mimi wouldn't be there for her 5th grade graduation.  This was the first "big" event that Mimi hasn't been there for, and it stirred up in both of us the realization that this is what a future without her looks like.

And to create the perfect storm, after going through 4 pregnancies, 1 birth, and loads of issues along the way, we determined that I need some minor surgical help to take care of parts of my body that weren't "cooperating" with what was normally expected of them.

The week of Elizabeth's graduation is when we announced TAP was closing and when I got the call to schedule my surgery.  Of course it was.

Now, one week post-surgery, I'm doing well, Elizabeth is fine (and is excited to be one of the Cats today in Seussical the Musical!), and plans are coming right along to make our TAP closure smooth.  All of that is said with no tears- the storm has happened and I am safely to the shore.

Back to this morning: that damn alarm clock.

Dan and I were hosted for a delightful dinner party last night.  There was great conversation, amazing food and wine, and it was the first time I'd put on "real clothes" in a week. (I came downstairs and both girls ooohed and aaaahed... maybe a week in PJs is more than they're used to for me?  Let's be honest... probably not.)  We got in late and both girls were awake.  Julianna took more convincing than E that it was time to sleep, so I was grateful we had nothing early on our Saturday morning agenda.

Until that damn alarm.

Frustrated and awake, I started catching up on social media.  So many pictures of vacations and exciting things.  So many political and painful posts.  And then I saw it:  a sweet woman I had the privilege of hanging out with last fall during Medicine and Ministry had died.  When we hung out in November, I had absolutely no idea that she was unwell.  And yet, today she is gone.  It literally took my breath away.  


From our brief time together here's what I know about her life:  she loved her husband.  She loved her job.  She loved her daughter.  She made it a point to maintain friendships she had from years past (I happen to be mutual friends with two of them!).  She was fun and wise and calm and a delight to be with.  And now, she is gone.

Our family has gotten in the habit of watching James Cordon's Carpool Karaoke together.  This one brought us all to tears.  I told Dan that if I were famous, I think I would want to be like Paul McCartney.  I get the feeling that he enjoyed this day- bringing joy to everyone he interacted with.  James Cordon does it too- he makes people light up around him.  I want that.  Dan, being the good doting husband taking care of his post-break down wife, encouraged me that on some level I do that now... but oh, to be able to say that across the board.  I want to bring people joy and make them light up.  Polly did that for me.

Yes, there will be job losses.  There will be bug bites like the ones on my elbow (!!) that are currently making me bonkers.  There will be events where loved ones aren't there.  There will be surgeries that bring out our anxiety.  There will be alarm clocks that ruin good sleep on the one morning you plan to sleep in.  But there will also be Pollys.  And Pauls.  And Jameses.  And joy.

Dan and I are heading off to our own version of summer camp after we drop of the girls at theirs on Sunday.  We are indulging in seeing a couple Broadway shows and going to the concert of my favorite band.  All of those events were decided before we knew that I would be 10 days post-op.  Rather than let my physical limitations ruin our trip, we've just altered our schedule and planned more down time.  We're choosing joy.

Here's to the people around you who bring you light.  The ones who bring you meals for your family.  The ones who swoop in and send a card at the perfect moment.  The ones who make you laugh even when it hurts.  The ones who serve good wine.  The ones who send you silly gifts.  The ones who constantly play Words with Friends with you while you're recovering.  The ones who recommend new shows to watch.  The ones who hold your hand.  The ones who bring you joy.

May we all know those kind of people... and more importantly... may we try to be those kind of people.

And may we always remember to turn off our alarm clocks on Friday night.

Rest in the light of joy and peace, sweet Polly.

On being sad.

Today, 6 years ago, I entered a new kind of nightmare.  I got the call that my Daddy had died unexpectedly.  There are loads of posts about it here on my blog, I don't need to rehash it in this one.

Six years is a long time.

Six years without his laugh, his kindness, his smile.

Six years without all the bad stuff about him, too... but that's not what my heart holds onto.

In all of the grief workshops/ therapy/ reading I've done in the last six years, I know that everyone grieves in their own way.  That time doesn't exactly heal all wounds.  I know that.  But this yearly loss anniversary caught me by surprise.

Last Sunday as I was driving back into town, I began to ache in an indescribable way.  It was almost a heart pain.  Before I even remembered the week coming up, I attributed it to the stress of what I'd left behind when we went out of town: bills unpaid, a tree that fell on our deck while we were gone, laundry that had to be done.  But as Dan and I began to debrief the anxiety that I was feeling, I realized my body knew the sadness of this upcoming "anniversary" even when my mind hadn't fully processed what was happening.

Dan and I talked about how to handle this week of grief and came up with tangible ways to protect my fragility.  I said "no" to lots of things this week.  I made an appointment to check in with my therapist.  And, I made a reservation at a nearby hotel so that I could cocoon this weekend.

There was a season in our lives when running away from home would not have been possible.  Whether it was that we didn't have the financial resources or that our children couldn't handle me leaving, it just wasn't in the cards.  But now is a different season.  It's still not ideal for me to be gone from my kids.  It's not great that I've missed some things at church this weekend.  I will go home to a potentially chaotic reentry which will undo some of the good self-care I've done this weekend.

But I needed to be sad.

I am not in a bad spot.  My mental health is in a solid place today... there are some days I can't report that with such authority.  But I'm sad.  AND THAT'S OKAY.

It's awkward being sad, you know.  People don't like to be around sad people.  They want to fix it- to make it better.  Often times that comes from the best of intentions... we don't want other people to be lonely or suffer.  But sometimes we want to "fix" their sad because it could potentially rub off on us- and make us sad, too.

Being sad isn't fun.  And staying sad is when things derail.  One wise woman in my life told me that I wasn't just dealing with grief- I was dealing with grief upon grief which can break someone.  There have been moments it's almost broken me.

Last weekend at Why Christian, I heard a minister say words that were life giving to me.  She stated that anxiety and depression aren't a result of something wrong with us- they are often a NATURAL RESPONSE to trauma.  Lord knows I've had trauma.  I lost all 3 of my parents in 5 years.  One right after another.  During those same 5 years, I was caregiver for my Mom as I watched her disease progress and wreck her life.  I was sad.   To add to that pain, I experienced the loss of my known community when we changed churches.  Sad.  I lost friends.  Sad.  And all of that pain changed who I am in some ways.  And during that time, I often stayed sad.

Continual sadness has made me more tender.

It's made me ache.

It's made me sensitive to suffering.

Those aren't bad.

Sometimes, it's caused me depression and anxiety.

Those can be bad.

But today, I'm just sad.

The thing that keeps me whole when I'm sad is those who aren't scared of my sadness.  Those who send me gifts of journals and cookie dough.  Those who send texts and call to let me know they remember the life of my Daddy... and they acknowledge my grief.  Those who let me escape and let me run back to open arms.

This morning I drove past a junkyard while listening to The Wailin' Jennys sing "The Valley".  It was a perfect moment of reflection of what this feels like.  A visual reminder of what the "piling on" looks like.  Grief upon grief.

I live in the hills  

You live in the valley
And all that you know
Are these blackbirds

You rise every morning
Wondering what in the world
Will the world bring today
Will it bring you joy
Or will it take it away?

And every step you take is guided by
The love of the light on the land
And the blackbird's cry

You will walk, you will walk
You will walk in good company

The valley is dark, the burgeoning holding
The stillness obscured by their judging
You walk through the shadows
Uncertain and surely hurting
Deserted by the blackbirds
And the staccato of the staff

And though you trust the light
Towards which you wend your way
Sometimes you feel all that you wanted
Has been taken away

There are days when I'm in the valleys.  And days I'm on the hills.  Through it all, I will try to trust the Light.  That trust may happen while I'm eating spoonfuls of cookie dough... and I think that's okay.

Being "Here".

The past few weeks have been bananas for us.  Including my upcoming travel this week, out of 53 days, I will have been gone 23 of them. That's 43%!  43% of the days have been not in Winston, not with my people.

I know that so many of you travel for your job- and this is nothing new to you... but I am not one of those people.  I enjoy travel- especially when it comes to vacations or visiting those I love- but being gone nearly half of the time is too much.  And lets face it, I'm not the spring chicken I used to be... bouncing back from this amount of travel has taken it's toll on my body.

During those 53 days, I've seen some of my dearest friends and colleagues.  I've enjoyed time at Great Wolf Lodge with my big girl (and got to see some of our Foster Friends, too.)  I've been to the mountains, the beach, and back to the mountains again.  I've eaten good food, hiked beautiful views, shopped, and read books.  I've also slept in uncomfortable beds, had allergy attacks, gotten sick to my stomach, been worried about a lice outbreak (we're clear, don't worry), and missed some key events that the extrovert side of me hated missing.

While we're talking about personality types, let's acknowledge that one... on the Myers-Briggs test, I always score just over the line as an extrovert.  Which means that my introvert side is very high.  And for at least 90% of these away trips, I've been required to be "on"... which makes my introvert side feel like it's drowning.  Yes, I am a people person... but I regain that energy by withdrawing and recharging alone.

Today when someone at church asked me how I've been doing, my response was, "Well, I'm here."  While that may have appeared to seem tongue in cheek to my scattered appearance or disposition, it was more honestly an acknowledgment of the beauty of actually being home.  I missed church one week because of sickness and I will miss 3 weeks because of travel.  That means that of 9 Sundays, I'm missing or have already missed 4. That's another 44%.

For a lot of people, missing church isn't a huge big deal.  For me, it is.

And none of that has to do with guilt.

It's honestly doesn't have to do with me missing the chance to "worship"... because I've felt more connected to God than I have in a very long time.

But I've not been connected to my Church Family.

Being with them this evening for Trunk or Treat made me realize just how much I've missed them.

Being gone from my own family has been difficult- Julianna and Elizabeth have both needed their Momma.  My house was a hot mess when I got home from my trips.  Laundry has piled up- and this is no knock on Dan, this is just the state of how things get when we're out of sync.

In the same way, I'm out of rhythm at church.  Part of participating fully in worship is being present... and I have not been.  While I can get "what I need" from attending periodically, I'm not fully enjoying the connection of being part of The Church when my attendance is spotty.

This is not a plug from Father Steve or our Vestry.  This is not something sponsored by those of us working to get people connected through our Welcoming Ministry.  In fact, this isn't even about our church specific.

Instead, as I've looked at my most recent schedule and my slack church attendance... I have to realize that I'm not alone.  Surely some of you have been gone too... for 44% of the time or more.  Know that you're not alone.  And know that it never matters how long you've been gone... you're always welcome.  Don't have somewhere that you miss when you're gone?  You're welcome to join me at St. Timothy's.

Being "Here" is not always high praise for my mental or physical state... but I look forward to the day when I'm Here more often.  Until then, I'll jump in when I'm able and continue to reach out to my Church when I'm not.  I can't expect they'll know how I'm doing until I tell them... and those days when I'm not Here might be the times when I need them even more.

Grace and Peace.

(and thanks, Beckie, for the pics.)

Our Fifth Annual "Do Good Day"

I can hardly believe that this year marks the 5th Annual Do Good Day.

While, yes, my heart hurts for the reminder that this is the 5th September 24 without my Daddy around to celebrate his birthday, I am instead reminded that for 5 years we have banded together to care for others.  For five years we have reached out to respond to specific needs.  We have brightened people's days.  We have shared the load.

Let me tell you a little of what we've done together this last year:

We made it possible for a friend to travel to travel to have some time with a family member at the end of their life.  We've fixed cars.  We've provided groceries.  We've helped with gas cards.  We've donated pizza lunches and school supplies for Title 1 classrooms.  We've made sure teachers have classroom needs met.  We've sponsored lunches, coffees, and treats for those who need encouragement.  We've provided a wedding reception for someone who could not afford it.  We've reached out in love.

Do Good Day 2017 is on a Sunday.  We will be hosting a gathering at our home for those of you who are local- drop in any time between 1-5.  We've have snacks and drinks- no need to bring anything to share.  However, we're asking that you help us out in several ways:

1. We'd love you to share your stories.  We're asking that you share with us 5 ways you've "done good" as we compile a written resource as to who we are. *shared stories*

2. Between now and 9/24, we're challenging you to do 5 "do good" deeds.  We've shared with you in the past lots of different suggestions for doing good, but we'd love to help you think of more if you're at a loss for what to do. *five deeds*

3. As I write this, we are anticipating how Hurricane Irma will impact Florida.  Consider those in Florida- or those in Houston still reeling from Harvey- as ones to whom you can reach out.  I have 2 dear friends who are staying in their home (because of work obligations) who I anticipate will need lots of help rebuilding.  If you aren't directly connected to anyone in Florida, I'm happy to let you know their needs. *disaster relief*

4. Consider sharing on Social Media some ways you are helping using the hashtag #DoGoodDay.  This will help us as we compile our stories. *social media*

5. If you are able to come to our drop-in event, consider helping us by rebuilding our resource bin.  We are down to only a couple grocery store cards- we are out of gas cards and "box store" cards (Walmart, Target, Home Depot, etc.)  We'd love you to consider donating gift cards toward our united cause.  Alternatively, we will sometimes be in a bind to send cash as their is a need if you feel comfortable donating in that way. *rebuilding resources*

Together we are a force for good.  Together we can do so much more.  And together we can be encouraged to do even more.  Excited to see what #DoGoodDay looks like this year.  Thanks for being a part of this movement.