Thursday, June 30, 2011

Independence Day


The last couple of weeks have been somewhat eventful. I have so many thank yous to send out that I haven't had the time to even begin. I have a three day weekend coming; I'm hoping to get those caught up... and find my shampoo. Just kidding, I know where the shampoo is:) sort of.

I am currently working on a timeline of phone conversations, emails, and confrontations so that I can keep the details straight in my head. yup, I'm a dork. Seriously, I fully expect to be forced into court and it seemed reasonable to at least be able to speak intelligently of the events of the past few weeks, which it turns out are the culmination of years of maternal disappointment. I would share them all publicly, because I have decided that I am done hiding and being afraid but these details really don't serve any purpose except to garner pity, which I don't really need. Suffice it to say that my character is in question here; half truths and lies abound, and things said out of context. The good news is that I don't give an account to my mother or my brother or the neighbors down the street for my actions or motives. That is probably the first thing on the list of things I am thankful for... along with my new dishwasher.

I am reminded of Joseph. His own brothers sold him into slavery because they were jealous of the love his father showered on him. When famine came to Egypt, God used Joseph to save the an entire civilization and the very family that betrayed him. When his brother asked why he would do such a thing his response was, "You meant it for evil; but God meant it for good". I really pray that I will have the strength of character to follow his example should the opportunity arise.

In the meantime, a wise person that I love with all my heart told me that the best revenge against she who can't be mentioned is to live well.

I think he's pretty smart.

Thursday, June 16, 2011


So I went ahead and opened my blog back up for the masses, as you can see. There really isn't any need to keep it private any longer.

For those who have seen some cryptic remarks on my Facebook account, a little explanation may be in order. For those who don't care... well, you probably still won't care.

A few years ago, my family was one of the early victims of their own choices that led to the loss of their home. A lack of fore site, combined with a dwindling economy, combined with a primary income tied to the luxury car business led to the perfect storm. It was the single most difficult thing I have personally ever had to deal with, outside of losing Daniel. Add to that the guilt that I had no one to blame but myself. I am a bookkeeper, for heaven's sake! How does this happen??

When we left our beautiful home, my heart was broken and I was scared, but we had some sweet friends from church who had a tiny little house that they were renting for frankly not much less that we were paying for our 2000 plus square foot home, but the utilities were less and we weren't starting out 3 months behind so we swallowed our pride and sold as much as we could and "downsized", which kind of goes against the whole heart of America but there it is. After a year of this situation, they were ready to sell their little house and we were looking for somewhere a little more permanent.

A certain family member stepped up and said that they were ready to downsize, because the house and pool were getting to be more upkeep than they were really able to maintain; and because they really loved the house where they had done a number of renovations, they wanted us to consider relocating to Atoka.

I told myself that my history with this difficult relationship would not be an issue. I told the plethora of people who said I was CRAZY, that it would be different this time. I was blinded by my fear of facing the financial world again, by my desire to give everything to my kids, and by the love that I quickly developed for this pile of bricks and the town that it sits in. I envisioned my teens having their friends HERE instead of somewhere else. I envisioned my house being full of the kids I would never have. I envisioned my grandchildren having Thanksgiving at the table in my kitchen and having them stay with me for weeks in the summer when they were old enough to take over that silly pond in the backyard.

I have worked hard here. I have painted and upgraded; put in a new privacy fence, and landscaped. This year in particular, I was dedicated to making that yard a garden of Eden for my "kids"... I am working these days and not really in a position to enjoy it myself; but I would someday.

Then I woke up.

A disagreement. An opinion I dared to have. A few heated emails later, and then a registered letter - addressed and written as if I was a complete stranger - and it is over. I have been evicted from my dream, and there really is no turning back. I have lost another house that I poured my future into. How does that happen? I have no idea. Frankly, I am still in shock and denial, although the boxes in the kitchen that is no longer mine are kinda pointing out the obvious. We have somewhere to go - thank goodness. It seems that God knows what is down the path, even as we are blessedly unaware. I am humbly reminded of that yet again.

I feel like I have been sold for the price of a registered letter.
That is all that I was really worth to this person, who is now a stranger to me.

PS... does anyone have a truck I can borrow?