family

An Old Familiar Silence

/ Laurie / Leave a comment

As I sit down to write, I can hardly believe it’s been two months since my last post. I’ve been busy with work, and I recently started an old pastime back up again. Roughly five decades ago, I started running in junior high. It was something I was pretty good at and that I grew to truly love. In fact, leaving high school, I was still competing in 5K and 10K races. I had a goal of wanting to run a marathon by the time I was 30.

Well, life started to happen, and that aspiration soon faded away as I traded my running shoes for the daily running after my children. I wouldn’t change a thing, as with each child and each new season, my goals became theirs… watching them work hard, practice, and leave it all on the court or field.

The one thing that always made me a little sad was I never had a “runner.” My youngest showed some interest, but she chose to run just to run, rarely for competition. Yet, a few years back, early in her marriage, when her husband was deployed, my oldest daughter would pull on a pair of running shoes and never look back. She did well, adapting to the running world after spending most of her life on a volleyball court or throwing in track.

It would be her that would run a marathon before she was 30, and today she has run a handful of full marathons and three times as many half marathons under her belt. Her younger sister, my middle daughter, even joined her for one. When she talks about it, running, I can hear in her voice that she loves it as much as I do.

After years of back issues because of an injury, it was during the pandemic, in early 2020, that I started being mindful of my health once again. My work provided us with three free months of the Headspace app, and I found meditation, which led to yoga, which got me back outside and walking. You can ask any of my girls and one particular friend, and they will all tell you that I am a fast walker. In fact, I have to be super conscious of how fast I am walking with them, because I get carried away.

So when I started walking, I also started increasing my pace, and I got pretty darn fast. In fact, I was “walking” an 11-12 min/mile! But because of issues with my back and knees, I just wasn’t able to actually run. Then I got sick, and I was never the same. I battled COVID twice and had shortness of breath issues, and so I stopped walking at any pace.

Then, about 13 months ago, when I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s, everything changed. (I also have fibromyalgia, and the year or so leading up to last March, I just believed my symptoms were out of control.) But a series of unfortunate events led me to a new GP, and I am forever grateful. Just a few weeks into taking medication, I was thinking, “What the heck, this is what it feels like to NOT feel like crap all the time.”

Around the same time, I also started seeing a new chiropractor, one that was familiar with fibromyalgia, and we developed a plan of attack to get my entire system back in alignment. He uses chiropractic measures in conjunction with auricular acupuncture, and that too became game-changing!!

So, in a nutshell, I was becoming a whole new person, healthy and strong. One that no longer had to tell the grands, “Nana can’t do that.” I could play with them, even down on the floor, and snuggle them close to carry them up the stairs at bedtime.

So a few weeks ago, I decided I wanted to get back out there again. A funny thing happened along the way; I discovered that I could run at a slower pace than I did back in the day, with minimal discomfort. It was great, because I love running and what it has always offered me… the world at an almost complete silence, just the wind and me.

Now don’t get me wrong, my knees are still not 100%, but with compression sleeves, I have found that feeling once again, the one I used to get when I would go on a 5-6 mile run out on an old country road. The peace and serenity that came when I just connected to the sound of my feet on the gravel. Today, I have added headphones, canceling out the outside world, so it is quiet enough to hear the thoughts that might come to the forefront of my mind.

So with a handful of miles I put in these past few weeks, I was prepared to participate in my first 5K in a couple of decades. I was fortunate to be a part of our work’s team for the 45th Corporate Cup for the American Lung Association. Sunday morning I was excited and ready for the challenge once again, but it was a bit chilly, and my left knee was not sure about the whole “running” concept, so with my “Strong, Steady, I’ve Got This” playlist, I was still ready to attack the race head-on. So in my brisk walk fashion, I competed. I had set a goal of 45 mins; I came in at just over 43 minutes, with 43:09 being my final time. And I was 4th in my age division, just missing a medal!!

It couldn’t have gone better, and during the race I remembered how much I love to run, and while I will never be as fast as I was, I can still be competitive and, in doing so, stay healthy and strong. I can once again do something I truly enjoy and reap the benefits it brings into my life.

As I think about my life today, my family, and especially my grands. I am drawn to holding close how happy and blessed I am. That today, I can continue to be there for them, as well as many years down the road. Joining them in silent anticipation as they try new things and grow in their strength and ability. Cheering them on just like I did their parents not so long ago…

I used to say that my greatest joys were my children, but I have found an even sweeter joy in the five little faces that smile when I say their names and run to me, saying, “Nana, Nana.” Their hugs are always the best, especially when they hold tight a little longer than me. While being around all of our family is not too often a silent occasion anymore, which is OK, there are always silent moments that I can steal away.

A sweet little hug or kiss, just because. Finding just the right spot to curl up with a grand or two and read their favorite story. Watching as the cousins all play together, creating friendships for the rest of their lives. Seeing the wonderful parents my children have become. I will often say, “I am blessed,” because I most certainly am. I am blessed by my entire family, because all four of my children and the five grandchildren have given me so much in my life. Grateful, thankful, and blessed—this Nana couldn’t ask for more.

Unexpected Gifts, from Unexpected Places

/ Laurie / Leave a comment

I am sitting here in my oldest daughter’s house, enjoying the peace and quiet, that is until Peyton, their dog starts bellowing at something outside and my heart jumps inside my chest! It’s been a nice evening, as I spend some time with him before heading home for the night. The kids are out of town for the weekend and I will actually enjoy a little “staycation” here tomorrow night thru Sunday and keep Peyton company and out of trouble. It will be nice, I can watch the football games I would miss at home and just enjoy the “feel” of being away from home as Open Enrollment has started this week, and it will really start to get crazy as the days go by in the weeks to come. I love my job, but for the next two months, I will be thankful for extra coffee and lots of OT!

Speaking of being thankful, I am still so filled with gratitude and have been really left without words. Roughly five or six weeks ago, my van decided to finally give me the last it had to offer and left me stranded on the interstate on a Saturday afternoon when it was 98 degrees out! Thankfully I have roadside assistance and they were quicker than the 50 minute estimate given in my app and after dropping off another car, took me home. I had visited with my mom while waiting for the driver, all just to kill the time, so what happened later that week was truly wonderful and such a blessing. We text pretty regularly now, but on Thursday, she asked me to call her. I did so after work and that was when she told me she wanted to gift me her extra car. I was stunned and did nearly start to cry. So much brokenness and pain that had been between the two of us for so many years, and now through our simple gestures of morning hellos or afternoon I love you, we our rebuilding something that perhaps we never really had before and it is through that reconstruction of our tattered relationship that we are finding something new.

It would be a couple weeks before I could make the 2 1/2 – 3 hour trip to be able to pick up the car, as there were family engagements on this side of the state, but it would be worth the wait to have something to drive again that I could travel more than 1-2 miles from my apartment. So this past weekend, Saturday morning, my son and I hit the road and made the trip to see my mom, his grand mother, that he hadn’t seen in years. It was a fun drive, laughing together and listening to music, and we almost made the entire trip without a stop – but mom has a weak bladder and drank too much water 😛

Once we got to my mom’s she gave us both hugs and we sat and had lunch together. It was nice to visit and it was nice to hear her talk about some of the things she is doing now; that she is getting out of the house for church and lunch with friends. I hate the idea of her being by herself most of the time, because I am too, I know what it feels like, what an empty room sounds like, how the absence of sound can affect you. Its only been five months since my step dad has been gone, and I know that it leaves an odd empty place for me, I can’t imagine what she must still feel, after spending over 40 years of her life with him. I was able to bring her a really lovely garden stone with a cardinal on it to have in her garden, as that is one thing I am so very glad she still enjoys doing, and it will continue to keep her busy each and every summer. She seemed to really like it and said she would wait until next year to put it out, and again committed how much she liked the cardinal.

We were there for about an hour or so, but with the long drive we did need to head back and so we said our goodbyes, I thanked my mom again for her generous gift and that I appreciated it more than I could express. She simply said, she had prayed about it and that was what God wanted her to do. That too made smile, made my heart happy. Because isn’t that all any of us want to do? The next right thing, which we would hope is what God, or Jesus, or Whoever you may call your own High Power would want you to do? As I drove home, I was filled with a sense of connection once loss, but now tethered once again, and the young girl lost and unseen, was always there; she just needed to step out of the darkness to be seen and heard. Even if it is only to whisper into the night, I’m still here and I love you.

Strong and Silent

/ Laurie / Leave a comment

Nearly three weeks ago, I received an early morning text from my younger brother. Which is a bit out of the ordinary, because we don’t talk a bunch. He said he wanted me to know he had been up early reading, my sister-in-law had directed him here, to my blog and he had read it all. He told me “the good Lord made you a talented writer and you need to tell your story” He also told me he loved me, but those words, the latter of his sentence, brought tears to my eyes. They were words that I thought, wouldn’t have believed he would ever say. I simply could have NEVER have imagined him saying, and I was indeed overwhelmed.

You see, I love my little brother, who is not so little any more, very much. We were very close growing up and he was always much more of an “older” brother in the way he acted, he was very protective and when we were both in trouble, he always had my back. We drifted apart when our parents divorced the summer I turned 14. I stayed with mom and he lived with dad, but I’m getting ahead of myself… let’s get back to why my hearing my brother telling me I should share my story moved me to tears.

Well, because my story, my TRUTH, which is also our story, is a hard story to tell, an even harder pill to swallow. Which I suppose is why I have continued to sit in the silence and this unbearable holding pattern, waiting for something, SOMEONE to give me the signal to move on; to move forward, outside the dark and quiet void. So for years I have waited in the void, rehashing old demons, creating and battling new ones; shedding armor only to put on more. All the while, quietly waiting to tell my story, to be given the opportunity to speak my truth.

The summer I was 12, was the summer my story began; or at least my most vivid memories. There was a day, that there had been an incident, and I was on the stairs crying. My brother came in and found me, he was 10 and being a pest and wouldn’t let up until I told him why I had been crying. He didn’t believe nothing and whatever else I must have told him, so I told him the truth… he freaked out, called me a liar and ran to his room. He took a nap and he forgot it all, because he never sad a word. So I decided right then and there to never say another word, if my own brother didn’t believe me, why would anyone?

So that Monday morning, in one quiet gesture, in a loving text, my brother gave me the nod to move forward – forward in the final phase of healing from the trauma I endured so many decades ago. Its like I have finally been given the permission to get up of the stairs in that old farmhouse where it all started. As if I have been sitting there ALL these years and now I am finally FREE! No more softly weeping, unable to move, afraid to do so; because if I did; the walls would come tumbling down around me.

Today, I am good, truly, my wounds are healed. I’ve been thru therapy, twice; and after 20 years of self medicating with alcohol and drugs, and basically marrying my father three different times; I found recovery, including out-patient treatment and started seeing myself differently and moving forward there were much fewer self inflicted wounds. Its been another 20 plus years, living life sober and today I know make better choices and I am living a life I am much prouder of. I still have struggles, that comes with life. But today, I know much better ways to deal with them.

As previous posts have revealed, the last two years proved especially difficult as I experienced more loss and grief than I could have imagined, and I did get caught up in the void, the isolation of that staircase, sitting there, alone and crying and just lost in the sadness. I used to pray on that staircase, and to my naïve and traumatized young self, I simply thought that God either didn’t hear me, or worse… didn’t care. Today, I know better, with FAITH, even in my sadness and sitting on those stairs again, I prayed, asking God to help me through.

So while there can be strength in silence, I am here to say, I have been silent for far too long. And if my not so “little” strong and silent brother can give this tortured writer the gentle and encouraging nod that I have been waiting for… if as I standup and start to walk away, I can hear the quiet rumble and feel the trembling around me, as the walls do come crumbling down. When the dust settles, I turn to see that the stairs are all that remains. Someone still sits there and I take a step back, raise my hand to shield my eyes and I see that it is 12yo me. She lifts her hand to wave and she smiles, and then she walks away, a skip in her step, nothing to fear.

I turn to do the same, maybe not skip (my 58 yo back and knees would not agree) but walk, away from the wreckage of my past, trudging along on a beautiful new path, that is filled with it’s own uncertainties, but today I am more than strong enough to do what needs to be done, including shatter the silence and stand strong.