Perspective Is The New Sexy

I felt familiar angst.

My post holiday work schedule climbed quickly to overdrive.

I needed to work, attend meetings and events, write a grant, clean, pack the house, buy groceries, feed the family, transport Son-2 to various appointments, tackle to-do lists, juggle the finances.

And carry the laundry. Always laundry.

We miss each other when a schedule shift happens or my calendar is full. I think he liked having me around at Christmas and New Years. I worried that me working late four days in a row right away as the new year begins will annoy him.

Before ALS we could divide and tackle more of the house work. Once upon a time we did not need to think about what he physically can or can not do, or where he can physically handle going without help.

My hours are jagged with early and late variance. I never have had a clock in, clock out type job. I imagine it’s not easy for someone to live with me and guess what my week will be like.

His jobs in the past all had clear start/stop times.

So I brace for possible grumpiness.

I stress that we might struggle to transition back into a busy season.

In an attempt to head off an argument or avoid sassy words, I bring up my hope that we can deal well with me being on the move again.

He responds with, “I’m good. I know you have too much on your plate–and too many plates to manage. Grace extended.”

Grace extended?

GRACE. EXTENDED.

Those are some hot husband words right there.

One time I heard a pastor talk about when life gets hard you can either get bitter or get better.

Hubby could complain all day given his physical pain, but he does not.

In fact, he has only grown kinder since diagnosis.

Considering your partner’s perspective is one of the most attractive things someone can do.

I am grateful.

Love,

Glenna

Romans 12:10 Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.

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Romantic Book Club

I hugged our snowman tree this week.

Mr. No-Name-Snowman is prickly but part of the family and the right height.

I miss simple things like Hubby being able to stand for a hug. The hair band Cinderella was right about some things, “Don’t know what you got till it’s gone.”

Fortunately Hubby is not gone. We find new ways to connect. I have heard that long marriages are like several marriages in one. I believe that. We are in a new act of our musical.

Last month we agreed to begin a two person book club. We have Hoopla to download free library audio books. Hubby picked the first one.

First Flight Girls

We took multiple weeks to independently finish The Flight Girls by author Noelle Salazar. It is a love story and about women in aviation during World War II. I started over once because I had a hard time remembering who was who among the character names. Once I re-listened to the first nine chapters, then I engaged eagerly to find out how the story ends.

We checked in with one another about chapter progress. I pondered how our book review would go. This is a totally new activity for us together as a couple.

I remembered one of the best lessons I know about marriage dreams: tell your spouse exactly what you visualize happening in the new fun. Do not assume they will know. What do I want?

“You write three questions about the book, and I’ll write three questions,” I share. “No random trivia unless beyond the three questions that promote conversation. No yes/no asks. The goal is we have a nice dinner and talk about the book. We’ll light a candle or go to a handicap accessible restaurant. Cool?”

He agrees. We finish the book. We write our questions. I set the scene for a quiet dinner. He did not feel physically up to going out. We create an indoor picnic.

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We compared observations from the book as we took turns answering one another’s questions. Spending time enjoying one another’s thoughts warmed my soul.

Our home was quiet other than our words and the occasional pop of a candle. It was a good night to look into his blue eyes.

Love,

Glenna

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Colossians 3:14: “And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

A Kitchen Story

Once upon a time, we were newlyweds living in a sketch area of town apartment.

The recipe on the box said to let the pizza dough rest somewhere warm for 5 minutes.

Well…the oven is warm, my 21-year-old self thought.

Nevermind that the dough was in a teal plastic dollar store bowl.

Hubby watched a Cincinnati Reds baseball game from the living room couch while I fumbled in our tiny kitchen.

I did not grow up cooking. My parents encouraged me to sit down or go play. The only cookies I remember baking were with my sister before she moved out when I was five. We ate sandwiches, and on Thursdays I ate White Castles for dinner. When a microwave moved into our home, I mastered frozen meals quickly.

[Hubby’s first clue of what he was dealing with was when I said I wanted to make him dinner one time while we were dating. He asked to come over to my parents’ house early, but I needed ten hours to prepare. He asked, “Are you sure cooking is all you’re doing today?”]

I saw the flames flash inside the oven.

“Hubby!”

I opened the stove door, choked on smoke, and smelled foul melting plastic.

Maybe his game was on commercial. Maybe the bases were loaded. I don’t know, but Hubby said no words. He stood, exited the apartment, broke glass in the hallway, carried the fire extinguisher to the kitchen, pointed the hose, put out the fire, opened a window, walked back to the couch to continue watching the beloved Reds.

Never a disgruntled word. Total calm. That’s my guy when I need him the most.

I treasure that memory. These days sometimes he can’t stand or get off the couch easily at all.

I remember when he could stand to kiss me or wisely begin cooking in the kitchen with me.

Our time has flown by too fast.

Tonight he mentioned the holidays stink this year. Um, yeah.

I am glad for his honesty out loud. We are on the same for-better-or-worse page.

Slow exhale.

I know there will be good times in unexpected ways because we will make the best of things.

Son-2 asked to put up a tree Friday so that’s what will happen. I did not dare say that that is the last thing I want to do. I know I’ll be glad once it is done. We can’t skip Christmas even if that sounds like a great idea.

So on this special edition Thanksgiving morning post, I wish you patience like Hubby demonstrated when faced with a really dumb kitchen fire. It’s worth it to show grace to others.

One day your kindness may be a memory someone cherishes about you.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thank you for reading.

Love,

Glenna

1 Thessalonians 5:18 Give thanks in all circumstances….

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One Less Thing

I realized my self-talk whispers “ok, one more thing” over and over each time a new daily challenge arrives. This came to my attention when suddenly I experienced a fifteen minute window where I soaked in the joy of One-Less-Thing instead.

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My car dashboard mirrors my life with its scattered warnings. The tire maintenance light is forever “on”. I’ve had 5 nail punctured tires over 5 months.

The service engine light greets me each morning. The oil change guy hooked up a gadget reader to tell me the light is nothing to worry about, but I wonder. The brake light won’t go out even when the emergency brake is released. I stopped looking up what the other lights mean in the manual.

The dashboard reminds me of the running narrative in my mind. It goes something like this: I’m still sick. Stress is not helping me get well. Drop the kid off at school. Go to work. Repeat. My voice refuses to come back. The cat puked. -One more thing. I need to make dinner. Sweep the house. Keep trying to sell the house. Clean the bathroom. Move the laundry. I really should write a letter or send a care package to our deployed son. What just fell off the house?! -One more thing. If you sit down, you’ll fall asleep. Get up. Give Hubby the light weight fork because it is easier for him to manage. Position his shoes in a way that will help him be less likely to fall. Move his phone to his next location so he is not thrown off balance by carrying something when he travels inside the house. Help the remaining kid with college applications. I need to go to Lowe’s. Heavy duty caulk. A new vacuum bag. Take out the trash and recycling. Prepare for presentations at work. Who do I need to call back? Have I followed through on all work tasks? Scoop litter box. Check personal email to see if anyone has responded to my manuscript query letters. Send more queries. Do we have gas in both cars? Pay bills in a way that hopefully does not cause an overdraft. It’s going to be close again this month. Is Hubby breathing? Is the cat breathing? I really need to make a vet appointment. -One more thing. There are other people I want to check in with. I text them. There are other people I would like to be there for. My capacity is too narrow. I can’t believe he hasn’t been able to work for a year. We need some mobility equipment. That will have to wait. The kid needs an eye appointment. -One more thing. I can’t make that work financially. How many hours of sleep can I get if I go to sleep right this minute? Why can’t I fall asleep? And so forth.

I try not to complain out loud. “Just keep swimming” as Dory says. But seriously, if there is a Santa out there who wants to buy our house so we can leave and start over, that would be GREAT.

Today I uprooted this tree growing into our fence and felt delighted by the image. Yes, we are ready to be uprooted.

In an attempt to make extra cash, I placed an ad to be a Pet Sitter. I can squeeze in dog walking and more cat litter scooping. I can love on animals and give neighbors peace of mind. The first response? Someone needs help with a cat until they get out of jail in February. So many thoughts. Bless their heart. Sigh….

One day I will not feel so stuck. I visualize selling a manuscript and being in an affordable and accessible home. One day I’ll be in the land of all three. I have learned hard lessons. I can do better.

This week our youngest got a job. Go kid! And he broke my heart by saying, “You won’t have to worry about Christmas, Mom, ’cause I’ll be able to buy my own presents.” The sentiment is good. The reality hurts.

A new job means he needs new pants. We make a plan to go to the store Wednesday. I secretly stress about how to afford the pants, but I think we can make it work. I don’t want him to know how close we are cutting it.

On Tuesday evening I drag my work bag into the house as the guys say, “We have a surprise.”

There on the kitchen table are new pants one day early. Hubby even used a coupon. In my book, that’s hot. Hubby had a decent afternoon and they worked together. I hear that the wheelchair got stuck in the JCPenny door, and they figured that out too.

In the moment, I physically felt something fall off the to-do list. One. Less. Thing. This felt magical. I soaked in the joy for fifteen intentional minutes. I smiled in my own home. This surprise felt so good!

This was a glimpse that things can be better. Will be better. I will trust the process.

To all those who struggle, I send you a giant cyber hug. You can do this. We can do this. Deep, slow breaths.

And now I must go.

The cat puked.

Love,

Glenna

One Light Town

After a 12 hour hot date with Nyquil, I opened my eyes at 10am. It’s been a rough week healthwise. I feel much better now.

I live on the edge by wearing a favorite pair of jeans that are so thread worn in the booty that I should have thrown them away months ago. Clean and dressed, I head to the annual Books By The Banks festival in downtown Cincinnati, Ohio. Hubby reminds me as I go out the door to look for two writers with connections to his hometown.

McKee, Kentucky’s population is approximately 1,000. The town rests in a deep valley between mountains in Jackson County. There is one traffic light. If the light doesn’t stop you, it takes 20 seconds to drive into and out of McKee.

I have traveled to McKee to see family for 27 years. I love the rich green vines that cover trees and the bright starry nights. I sense nature’s peace there and less electricity in the air. The oxygen is dense. I often leave feeling rested even if I slept on someone’s floor.

The first thing I do upon arrival to Books By The Banks is to attend an author panel. I learn a few tidbits about publishing. The talk affirms that my work is heading in the right direction.

Then I head to the sea of authors and books in a large conference hall. I find Gwenda Bond. Her new book is the prequel to Stranger Things. [How cool is that?! We LOVE the Netflix show Stranger Things at our house!]

Gwenda is the daughter of Hubby’s high school chemistry teacher. I shared our connection and asked Gwenda how her mom is doing. She gave me an update to take home to Hubby and signed a book for us. She has other books I hope to read also. Her website is www.GwendaBond.com.

Next I find Keven McQueen. His books involve spooky tales from various areas of the country. Keven was a year ahead of Hubby in high school. He signed our book “Jackson County High School Forever!” Me, Mrs. Messenger, caught up a little with him. Keven and Hubby are friends on Facebook so they could connect later too. His website is www.KevenMcQueenStories.com.

How about that? Two best selling authors from Eastern Kentucky. Big wishes for much success to them and all the authors at Books By The Banks yesterday!

Before leaving I scanned my Instagram stories and realized one of the books I put on my read soon list is there too. The book is Midnight at the Blackbird Cafe. The author, Heather Webber, is represented by my current dream Literary Agent. I walk back to meet Heather. She confirms her agent is as great as I estimate from research.

I posted this on my Insta story:

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Too much? I dunno.

It was a good time!

Author Heather Webber’s website is www.HeatherWebber.com.

The world is big and small at the same time.

Love,

Glenna

* The authors included in this post said ok to picture posting and to me blogging about the experience. Other cool things happened too, but I didn't ask permission to share those moments. Join me next year at #BBTBCincy!

In the Stillness

Chronic illness and caregiving are lonely places to be. And a lonely place can be smack dab in the middle of your own house. It is easy to be forgotten when you don’t show up hardly anywhere social anymore. It’s easy to miss friends even when you talk to them a lot via text.

This is one of those posts that is scary to write because I certainly don’t want to hurt Hubby’s feelings; however, he has said to me before maybe if you write the truth it will help other people not feel as alone.

I try to look at our situation like we’re lucky because we have each other. If you’ve ever lived this type of life, then you know that’s just as funny as it is true. I hold onto what I can. I miss him. And I hate that he feels (in my opinion) sick 80+% of the time. We each silently regret some of the things we could have been out doing in our early years together.

There is sweetness too. When he verbally appreciates my weak effort to do house chores. When he offers me quiet time in the house because he knows the silence soothes me. When he will go to the end of the Google search engine to research anything the boys or I need. And, I have my thoughts about him always being a man of integrity. That is one of the things that attracted me to him long ago. Recently he agreed to do an audio book club with me. I am hopeful the first book discussion will be fun from our different perspectives. I’ve listened through chapter 9 so far.

I ponder if this time of both rest and stress ultimately helps me focus more time on writing projects. The quote below got my attention this morning after waking up from another nightmare for the sixth morning in a row:

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Writers need a platform. Mine is growing. I am thankful that my Twitter followers are 18 away from 1,000 (as of the time of this post) which I read is an important step in jumping onto a propulsion algorithm. We shall see. Fingers crossed. It’s not about “likes” for publishers. It is about “would anyone buy her book?”. Since I am 60% introvert and 40% extrovert, this writer life climb is filled with internal conflict–hence the nightmares? Being on a team is joyful for me. Putting my neck out there solo causes a touch of angst.

I enjoy getting to know a little bit about people in the writing world who live around the globe. That part of the journey is fun. I just cyber-met someone who is on number 200 of her 300 bucket list items. How cool is she? Go girl, @VickyJones7.

So in this life filled with challenges, I say: Carry on in the stillness. Carry on in the Light. Carry on, dear readers, carry on.

Much love,

Glenna

Exodus 14:14 The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.

What We Think vs. What Is, Plus Tea

Dear People,

I admired her. I wanted her to like me. I hoped we’d be friends.

And–I was fairly sure she didn’t think anything at all about me.

That lady was busy doing important things that I liked being part of even if on the fringe. She might not have known my first and/or last name.

I attempted a conversation or two. I doubted my spoken words connected to her brain.

Isn’t that how it goes sometimes? We like someone. We share similar ideas with them. They do work we think is cool. We are confident they have zero interest in getting to know us.

Years later she calls me. Wha…wha…what?

She wants to meet at a restaurant.

So I go.

And it turns out she likes my brain too.

She has been reading my blog and asks me to help her think through a couple things.  Then she asks me to pray for her weekly in the months ahead as she works on a project.

I say…ok.

Like, O and K together softly, genuinely.

Before agreeing I took a few seconds to think about whether I could fit her request into my life. Which, I gotta say, is one of my most grown up moments. To consider if I could make time for something new, to think about if I could honor her and my word, ah, yes, that is an adult moment for me.

Connection isn’t always obvious, dear readers. Sometimes less is more. We don’t have to force anything. Be present. Be kind. Carry on. Don’t compromise. Be you. Things come around if they are meant to be.

This example gives me hope that a relationship with a literary agent will come into my life too. It’s happened for others. It will happen for me too. I’ve written two novels in three years (dog gone it) while in the midst of serious life changes.

The pressure is on and off at the same time. My coal is being pressed. I’m learning all I can about who might be my #DreamAgent. It will happen. I know you’re out there.

Until then I am sipping Hot Cinnamon Spice tea on a Sunday morning. I’ve learned that quality tea and taking time to breathe is valuable. I’m putting my mug out there and wishing peace for you and your dreams too.

Love,

Glenna

 

2 Turtles in Rush Hour

On the way to work I see a turtle halfway across Dudley Road hill. There’s no safe place for me to pull off and safely move him to the other side. At that hour with so many cars I might cause more harm than good. His outstretched neck on the double yellow line haunts me as I blink my lights at oncoming traffic.

Then on the expressway onramp I see a similar turtle crossing with head held high.  What in the world? Two within one mile? Neither I can help safely. I pray for their protection.

I think of those two turtles for days.

Today I ponder the two perspectives in my marriage. On selfish days I wonder if Hubby can possibly see or care about my inner struggles.  I only need his encouragement and an atta girl once in a while (ok, every 1.5 days please) to keep going. I’m “fine”. Everything is fine.

On less selfish days I ponder what life is like from his perspective.  I may never know completely what ALS muscle loss feels like, his struggle to walk, or the occasional cognitive glitch. How frustrating it must be.

We have opposite personalities to begin with so perspective sharing has long been a challenge.  Of the many things I’ve learned from two opposite wired brains over the years, I am certain there are at least two ways to do most tasks and both can feel like the right way at the moment until one considers the other person’s point of view. Many of our brief spats involve arguing the exact same point from different angles.

“You’re saying the same thing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Ok.”

What I hold onto year after year is that God’s love is greater and more fulfilling than any love I might find or desire on earth.

We are lucky.  We choose Jesus to be at the center, our Translator In Chief. Time after time our hearts soften and we hear one another eventually.

I saw this on a Lysa Terkuerst Instagram story  post:  “If lesser love ever fulfilled us, then we would have no need for God.”

So true.

We are all turtles daring to cross the road.

Romans 15:13 NIV:  May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Dear Ed Sheeran

Before sunrise Hubby stumbles across the bedroom and kindly whisper mumbles, “Good morning.”

My response is internal, I don’t like mornings and I hate ALS.  I need your body to help me with this blankety blank moving sale and I know you can’t physically share the load.  I speak nothing.  To be fair, he helped in the ways he could yesterday.  I’m grumpy and tired from weeks of prep in a house with a to-do list that has gotten away from us.  ALS has stolen the feeling of team chores over the years.  The playbook has shifted.  Team means new things now.

My mind wanders to the letter I had wanted to write Ed Sheeran a while back.  I planned to say, “Wow.  You sing the most perfect lyrics for our marriage in the song “Thinking Out Loud”.  Please meet us in Pompano Beach, FL on our 25th anniversary weekend, bring a guitar, and sing that to us on the beach.  Just once please.  That would be cool.”

I pull back my inner crazy lady and did not send such correspondence.

On Saturday of our trip we figure out the mechanics of getting us both on the sand.  Once settled, YouTube plays the Ed Sheeran song.  Then we listen to the ocean waves for hours shaded by an umbrella.  That was my favorite day.

Sunday he rests and I suggest we do dinner out to officially celebrate.  Monday could be another rest day before navigating the airport with a wheelchair Tuesday.  Oh, the things I’ve learned.  For instance, there are indoor hills, PeopleIndoor hills.  Pacing ourselves is important in the approach to such phenomenon.

We arrive at public parking for the restaurant 5 minutes before our reservation.  The parking meter doesn’t work.  It’s humid.  The restaurant is across the street and upstairs.  We see there is an elevator down the road.  I clumsily pay through their online app.  I wonder if I look pretty.  We gals can fit 100 thoughts or more into such moments, can’t we?

As we roll to the crosswalk, we hear music.  The beginning chords play “Thinking Out Loud”.  Hubby says it’s a popular song so no surprise.  But in my head I’m like, The Universe got my letter!  Thanks, Ed.  Thanks, God.

The words follow us all the way to the restaurant.  The patio overlooks a boat dock.  Our table has a sunset view.  It is a lovely evening.

Peace & love,

Signature GSE

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When your legs don’t work like they used to before
And I can’t sweep you off of your feet
Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love
Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks

And darling I will be loving you till we’re 70
And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23
And I’m thinking ’bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways
Maybe just the touch of a hand
Oh me I fall in love with you every single day
And I just wanna tell you I am

So honey now
Take me into your loving arms
Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars
Place your head on my beating heart
I’m thinking out loud
That maybe we found love right where we are

When my hair’s all gone and my memory fades
And the crowds don’t remember my name
When my hands don’t play the strings the same way
I know you will still love me the same

‘Cause honey your soul could never grow old, it’s evergreen
And baby your smile’s forever in my mind and memory
I’m thinking ’bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways
Maybe it’s all part of a plan
I just keep on making the same mistakes
Hoping that you’ll understand

But baby now
Take me into your loving arms
Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars
Place your head on my beating heart
Thinking out loud
That maybe we found love right where we are

So baby now

Take me into your loving arms
Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars
Oh darling, place your head on my beating heart
I’m thinking out loud
That maybe we found love right where we are
Oh maybe we found love right where we are
And we found love right where we are

25 years & 25 lessons

I cry at some point of almost every wedding anniversary.  I am a closet spoiled brat.  I like the feeling of celebration, of feeling special on special occasions.  I can be ridiculous with my internal thoughts while being poker face cool externally.  Meanwhile my other half is practical, kind, and loving.  He’s a good guy.  We have opposite approaches to life and opposite personalities by most measures…Myers-Briggs, DISC, Zodiac Signs, Chinese Calendar, and so forth.  On paper we should not be together.  Fortunately we have overlap on the Gary Chapman Five Love Languages test results.  And Jesus.  Jesus is our key common denominator.

This year we hit the big 2-5.  25 years married.  Wowza.

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He warned me when we dated.  We were 20 and 23 years old at the time.  He said something like, “Things go wrong for me.  I am a walking Murphy’s Law type person.”  We proceeded to argue.  I said he had the wrong attitude.  He said attitude is a result of things that happen to a person.  I pollyanna’d that attitude is what you bring to any day or situation.

I maintain that sunshine viewpoint today, but he’s right about how little things tend to go wrong in his world.  Ride in a car with him to a new location and you’ll see what he means by the number of missed turns.  The good news is he has adapted what I call Overcoming Murphy’s Law Strategies.  For example, before going on vacation he spends quality time with Google Maps to the point that when we arrive at our destination it seems like he knows exactly where he is going–because he does.

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Here are 25 things I’ve learned over 25 years of marriage:

  1.  It’s true.  Opposites attract.  Take time to respect the differences rather than to fight about them.
  2.  Less expectations can lead to sweet surprises.  Example, Hubby made sure I had my all time favorite donut on vacation:  Key Lime from Dandee Donuts.  Yum.20180929_073646
  3.  Praying for your mate is a better plan than nagging your mate.  God has a way of opening up his or her heart so you can communicate.
  4. Children can strain relationships because they create a new kind of tired…an 18 year plus kind of tired.  Recognize the tired and take time outs as needed.20180929_112724
  5. Ask for what you need.
  6. Before you ask for what you need, ask if this is a good time to talk, aka a time where you can hear one another.
  7. Listen to understand.
  8. Kiss.
  9. Our premarital counselor said to always fight naked.  I’ll leave that right there.
  10. Speaking of counseling, get some.
  11. Grow together.  Share how you are growing, maturing, learning.
  12. Grow solo too.  Counseling is good for you.  Take notes.  Untangle the knotted parts of your brain.
  13. Agree to be on the same page.
  14. Agree to discuss what the same page looks like.
  15. When you’re on different pages, acknowledge and discuss the pages.
  16. Have family meetings.  I love that Hubby has initiated family meetings with our kids several times over the years.
  17. Make each other breakfast from time to time.
  18. Acknowledge seasons that are hard for your spouse and give grace upfront.
  19. Enjoy special songs together.  I could make a song scrapbook of meaningful songs from the different stages of our life.
  20. People say hurtful things.  Don’t be that kind of people.
  21. If you do say something hurtful, then say I am sorry.  Be sincere with your apology and do better.
  22. Hug, hold hands.
  23. Do activities the other person likes to do.  I’m not good at this.  Eh, it is good to know about improvement opportunities.
  24. Love your spouse’s family.  They are your family too.
  25. Stay centered.  For us that means Jesus is at the center of our home.

“For better or worse” is in generic wedding vows for a reason.  I could not have predicted at 21 years old when we married that I would feel like we won when we figured out how to take a long weekend trip with a wheelchair for the first time.

20180929_100448On the way home I said, “I didn’t buy you a card.”  He said, “I didn’t get you one either.”  And that’s a-ok.  I didn’t cry on our anniversary this year.

We both cried leading up to the day because a painful reality hit when his mom passed away the week prior to our get away.  Also, a close family friend passed away suddenly the week before as well.  It’s been a sad time and a quiet time.  A wise friend said, “If you are feeling numb, then stay numb and watch God work.”  I have taken that advice to heart.  Thank you to the family and friends who helped with our kids and home responsibilities while we were away.

Signature GSE

*Pic of me sitting on the rock and looking back is from our 1993 honeymoon.