Wednesday, February 15, 2017

I miss you.

Diane,
I wish I could talk to you. You have been gone over two years and your birthmonth is approaching. I dread it. This grief is threatening to define me and I do not want that. You and God wouldn't either, I know. Maybe those are the only reasons I don't want it. And that my family deserves better. 

A lot has happened to me since you left that I wish I could have talked with you about. Big things have happened like deciding to move (truly a big thing by itself) and then actually moving.  Brian's job change has been so challenging. The adjustments  the kids have made are admirable. I became a mentor, which is simultaneously exciting and laughable. I am anxious about a medical exam and I could really use your guidance in how much grace I should give myself. See? Just that sentence would have set you off on a sermon. 

Max is graduating high school and turning 18. Eighteen!!  We are fast approaching the last day in all the world that I can say my son will be an adult in months!  Other big things is that a guy wanted to ask Madi out and Brian told him no. Then it happened again months later and Brian said yes. Then Madi said yes, so she is going to a high school dance this weekend. My little girl is going to a high school dance!  That is something this homeschooling momma never anticipated. Nor did I expect to have a 15 year old girl going on a date of any sort. I would like to talk with you about it all in excited rushes and in quiet confessionals. 

The kids are so full of personality. They make me laugh and I know you would love to listen to their ideas. They take becoming adults seriously, but attack the tasks from such different perspectives, it is fascinating. I would love your wisdom in how to best mother them through these transitions. 

My marriage is really good. Work, for sure, but shockingly, blessedly good. We are so thankful for the hand you still play in that truth. 

We are going to buy a car. Since we haven't done that in 15 years, that qualifies as a big thing, too. 

But even more pressing are all the little things. The nothings that do not even need to be talked about are what I want to talk about. I miss you much because of these. Yesterday my poop looked like a circumcised penis and I think you would have liked to have known that. I came up with a game show idea called 'Do You Trust Yourself?' and NO ONE has any interest in hammering out the details with me. Just because my initial plan involved wiping a contestant's memory. What's with that?  Ever since Caleb gave me whooping cough, whenever I get sick, my lungs snore. I want to tell you my thoughts on Grimm since you wanted me to watch the show so badly and I refused. I finished HIMYM just for you, too. I couldn't do Hawaii 5-0, though. 

Walking across the many bridges at my apartment complex in the rain scares the shit out of me. They are so slippery and I think falling would ruin more than my day. It rains every week here and never snows. It is an effort to not be burdened by that. It rains all day and all night. All night. 

Our new neighbors got two dogs and one is a pit!  Part of me wants to rip my shirt open in the ever-falling rain while collapsing to my knees and wailing 'Why?!?' to the sky, half hoping to drown like a stupid chicken. The other part is all fat little determined Disney fairy, determined to go all out Jesus on their asses. Like, I am gonna learn whatever lesson God has for me so that I never have to live under a fricken dog for the rest of my life!

Oh, I really want to tell you about Buttercup. She is precious. Glimpsing from my angle into the foster system stirs up so much in me, it would be such a help to talk it all out with you. There are quite a few things I cannot even bring myself to type that I would talk with you about. These things are so mysterious and confusing that I only whisper them to God and Brian. 

We started attending a new church. We want to be involved in a church family so much but we are terrible misfits wherever we go. I have hope and fear that I would really like to carry to the Throne with you. 

Brian is sick.  So....  you know. That sucks. 

I could really use your words, too. I want to hear about David and Kiso and Cher. How you are proud and when you are concerned? I want to pray for your friends who are moving through crises. I want to be inspired by your choices to grow. And I could stand to hear one more sermon on how great I am. 

I want to end this like David did, with praises to God. He supplies. He is faithful. He is loving. Yup. All true. But I still miss you.