No Filter

Snow falling

Snow falling all day long

Snow falling into the early evening

Snow falling when I go to bed

I shovel snow early in the day. Proud of my handy work. Clear driveway, clear sidewalk, cleared an area for delivery people that do not deliver to my door. Even made a cute maze for the little Chihuahua in the back yard.

Cleaning

Working out in between tasks

Feeling good about myself

Feeling good about the day

Look out window and sigh

Look out window and realize that I cannot really see what I originally shoveled. Neighbors are outside shoveling, maybe I should also shovel.

An hour later my progress is barely visible. I come inside. I eat lunch with my kids. I take a nap on the couch.

I see neighbors once again shoveling, so I to go out to shovel. But it isn't doing much. What I move from the driveway is dropped from the sky.

I stand in the garage and stare at my snow blower. I saw  the neighbors using theirs. Mine is so heavy. The electric start will not work. The thing is daunting to me. I am intimidated by it. So I go inside I cook a supper that one kid refuses to eat until it is cold. I see the hour is late. My body is beginning to protest all that I have done today.

Outside I go.

I stop in front of the snow blower. I turn it on with the pull cord and away I go down the driveway. Struggling to hold onto it and to figure out how best to do this. I consult the nice neighbor and he gives me a quick rundown ensuring me that it is okay to go into the road, and that when it is all over I will have big guns from muscling that thing around.

So I give it a go. I think I am doing okay. I get the giant snow pile at the end of the driveway knocked down. I go out into the road. I let it pull me I throw all my weight into getting it to swing around and come back into the driveway. I feel my muscles protesting. I smell the gas. Visibility is low due to it being dark and the snow blowing everywhere from the Shute.

Let us address language.

You cannot shovel snow nor use a snow blower without profanities filling your mind. I know my neighbor across the street probably thinks I always use the horrible f word. As I push the shovel into the snow I curse the offending resistance. As I shovel snow as fast as it falls I am cursing it. I am saying like a mantra "Why am I in this Godforsaken place? I do not belong here, I am a Tennessee girl, how did I get this fing lost?"

But then I stop myself and I try to say a prayer of thanks for my ability to shovel snow, for my shovel, for my husband who is currently in a warm sunny place. And then I turn and let loose a string of profanities.

I love God

I ask for his forgiveness even as I yell "f this fing snow" I tell God that I am sorry for using bad language and that I pray he will forgive me and convict me.

By the time I have nearly buried our van with the snow from the snow blower and I have a passably clear drive way I am feeling like a ninja. I feel like I have it going on and that I am in control. I am thankful I got out here one last time to conquer this snowy nightmare.

Once inside I quickly get kids ready for bed and read the Bible story. I pour myself a glass of wine and grab the hot shower I meant to get all day but didn't. I crawl into my bed and my arms hurt, my back hurts, my tummy is tingly and I feel too tired to drink wine and watch a favorite television show. I make myself do it anyway. After all, I am not a quitter right?

Morning dawns and I am elated that today my son will go back to school even if it is two hours later. I go outside and realize that the snow blower is out of gas and that there is no gas in the gas can. This after it goes just outside the garage before sputtering out. I want to rant and throw myself down into a sniveling heap upon the piled up snow.

I don't

I grab my shovel and attempt to get a clearing for my son to walk through to the bus. An hour later I have managed to push snow around the driveway, somewhat dig out one side of the van and make a tiny hole at the very end of the driveway. I have also muscled the dang snow blower back into the garage.

Inside to recuperate and drink a much needed cup of coffee and get my son ready for his day.

Back outside after thirty minutes determined to conquer the offending pile of snow.

I do

I do slowly conquer the pile of snow.

I also curse it

I also sigh and try to catch my breath

My bangs can't be moved from in front of my eyes, they become stiff from the cold air and moisture of my mumblings. I am hot and sweating just like I would had I been at the gym instead of in a snow bank. My arms hurt.

I think to myself how I can't, that I am not strong enough to remove this giant pile of snow

Then I do it and I make it happen.

I talk to myself.

I glare at people driving by who stare at me.

I push snow toward the pile furthest away from my driveway. I throw shovels full of snow into my yard nearly burying a small tree. I watch in disbelief as the kids just stumble their way through waist high snow laughing and being happy.

While shoveling the worst of it I catch myself thinking how when I was younger and stupid and hanging out in bars that I was "one badass bitch" But you know what, that wasn't even close to the truth because now while my husband is away enjoying time with family and friends I am here. Here in this frozen land and I am making it. I am cleaning the house, attempting to work out, getting things done and most importantly I am shoveling this fing snow.

So who is the "badass bitch now?"

Yep, that's right, this Tennessee girl has got it going on.

I thought I was doomed and that this was all I could handle, but nope, I pulled out extra reserves of badass and got that driveway clear.

I am happy, but I am also overwhelmed, sore, and cranky.

I get my driveway clear, my sidewalk clear, I even dig out a small trail for my Chihuahua.

Then I come inside. Sore and tired and cook breakfast and prepare to clean the house.

January 6 2017

Blast it All

True to the form, something must always go wrong in the house while the husband is away. This time it is a garage door.

Home from a day of errands and satisfied with deals from the thrift shop my daughter and I prepare to relax. And the garage door will not close. A quick call to maintenance and this older seemly nice enough gentleman arrives. I try really hard to like him, but I can't help but get the vibe he thinks this is beneath him. Then he finds something that could have been blocking the sensor, hits a reset button on the main box and it closes.

End of story.

Until an hour or so later I hear the garage door go up. I look and lo and behold it has gone up. Push the button and go on my way. Just a little later it begins to get drafty in the back area close to the door that leads out into the garage. Yes, the door was up. Now I am beginning to think I am losing my mind, so I decide to randomly check on it. And yes two more times it goes up on it's own. I place a call to maintenance, this time for emergency services because it is 4:30pm. and they are done for the day. Within a few hours I notice the door is up and just about that time the next guy arrives. He asks me if I knew it was up since he saw it like that when he parked.

This guy goes out there pulls it up and down, and turns off the breaker switch. He finally gets it to where I can open it manually and goes away. I am thinking this is great. The only downside is it being a little awkward to pull it back down because I am short. They put in a work order promising someone would come on Friday.

Friday arrives and my driveway is completely blocked at the end by a night's worth of snow plows. The guy arrives earlier than I expected and I think he was trying to be chipper, but at that moment it came across wrong.

So I am trying to shovel and he wants to make small talk. I am just barely holding my temper in. This is before coffee and not more than thirty minutes after I rolled out of bed.

I have to brush snow off of the van in order to grab the controller for the garage door.

And naturally he can find nothing wrong with the door. He tells me to call should it act up. By the time he makes his way through my tiny opening at the end of the driveway I am nearly ready to smack him with my shovel.

Not even thirty minutes later he is back. This time he wants to completely reset the box. So again I have to stop shoveling hand him both remotes and listen to him prattle on an on about taking my time with the shoveling and how this is life. Really?

Finally he leaves.

No more than an hour after he leaves the dang door is opened again. I close it. It opens. I call dispatch who wants me to pull the red cord, disable the door and wait until Wednesday.

I let loose part of the annoyance I had been holding in all day.

The guy came back sat in his van for thirty minutes then comes to the door and proceeds to tell me he can't fix it because it doesn't appear to be broke. Then tries to joke with me about it being possessed or me feeling like I am going crazy. He also tells me he understands that it costs money to heat a house that is drafty from a wonky garage door. I am done with him. I am praying this door works and that I can forget about him and the door and the snow on the other side of the door.

I know I am not crazy.

January 6 2017

Existing

With husband away I am left to my own devices.
Like a mouse with no cat around.

Instead I exist as if in a fog.
The first few days drifting along in a cold abyss.
Not sure how the kids really made it though.

Positive the food served wasn't the best.
Minimal effort.
The television on.
Child's cartoon, child's game,
later into the day adult television.

I managed to watch three seasons of a popular television show and another season of a Netflix exclusive.

Outings did happen.
Recycling was turned in.
Both vehicles taken to the car wash.

I have managed one morning at the local community center to work out.

I am getting myself moving forward from the place of deep depression.

School has started again.
The routine a welcome relief to the floating of timeless days with two kids in the house.

I know now how empty I will feel once the real deal happens.
Coming up soon another time of being a half way single mom while husband tries to maintain his presence through video chat.

His phone calls now seem so empty. Devoid of emotion from both of us. I cannot fathom why. It leaves me feeling more empty.

We were at a better understanding. The last few months of adjustment and working it out will all be for naught soon. No it isn't that big D, it is the other one.

I am happy. Confident in his love for me. I finally understand he does support me and my oldest son who has recently brought forth too much emotion.

I miss that child. I know that he is okay now. At least I am praying so.

And now as the tiny feet patter down the stairs I must begin another day.


January 4 2017

Spiral Down

The nights I spend dreaming
 What of, you will never know
  Nor are you allowed to ask.

No questions are allowed
 Because I don't have an answer

The door will be open just a bit
 there is a light
  such a tiny light

Footsteps echo
 down a winding staircase

Not a word is spoken
 my mind is whirling
  faces flashing past
  round and round they go

The warmth of a lover's embrace
 or a kiss of loneliness
  twisted around desire

Of words spoken
 that fell on deaf ears

To a blind mind
 hearing a would not have helped
  drowning in their voices

 Grasping at straws
 holding onto thorns

A hand reaches down
 pulling up into the light
  of baby blue eyes
   and a heavenly smile

This paper will free me
 but only for a moment

An unfinished chapter
 that won't grant me rest

Waiting for the sound
 that will surely free me

Speak
 straight to my heart
  while looking into my eyes

Remove the chains of infatuation
 replaced by chains of roses
  and temptations kiss
  that won't be kept at bay

The icy fingers of regret
 pull at long flowing hair

This is right
 to the lonely mind
  and a tortured heart that has been left alone
   far too long

The darkness comes to play
 wreaking havoc
  torturing
   blinding
    deafening

All lies of desire
 all lies of false beliefs

And now I am surrounded by
 your honest words
  loving embrace
   eyes that can see into a soul

Call it love
 call it forever

 But remember
  forever is a long time
   forever is just a dream away

April 1998
Revised March 2002

Olivia J. Stuart

A December Morning

Christmas is upon us, but it hasn't made me feel excited. One radio station that plays Christmas music, though not the ones I have come to love. I am certain should I hear the favorites it would not matter.

I am in a blah place. Stressors from my home state plague me. Daily I wait for phone calls and updates. I struggle with placing blame upon myself and anger toward one other in particular. I feel upbeat and straight to hopeless. I am hanging in, but only on the margins. I sent out only one Christmas card one week before Christmas. My Christmas presents for home also went out that same day.

The day my husband began cleaning part of the house, I knew I was failing. Any façade of normalcy was not holding up. I cannot bring myself to accomplish more than one task a day. My two I am exhausted and ready to lie on the couch and watch cartoons with my daughter.

Snow surrounding us, and falling continually makes me feel trapped. Even when the beautiful sunlight fills the sky and brightens the world, I feel the cold.

I am sad. So very sad. I don't know how to express this to my loving and kind husband. He certainly does not deserve a wife that is sad. I desperately try to keep up. To get kids ready for the day. One on the bus with water and snack in hand. I struggle to deal with a hyper child left in my care all day long every day. Then it is time to make supper and clean up the mess and begin bedtime routines. But most nights I do not fall into bed exhausted, but rather defeated.

I am fairly certain that my husband does not understand how debilitating sadness can be. How it can control your life and make you eat all day long. How it can make you stare at the walls and barely function.

With him going to work later and coming home earlier, he has been around a lot more. He is seeing more of what isn't being done. Hearing more of the excuses. I think he sees laziness. I think he is slightly disappointed in me. I know I am disappointed in me.

Soon we will know if he gets to visit his family for eleven days. I will remain behind with our kids. My oldest will be adjusting to whatever new reality he has. I will be alone. I can feel the cold and the empty house. I can imagine the smaller meals barely put together. The kids laughing and playing and me retreating from it all.

This new place we are in is quite intimidating at the moment. I have never been one to travel far from home unless necessary. By far I mean more than twenty minutes. I don't know why this is. I know there are places I will want to go, but out of lack of desire to accomplish such a feat, I will remain home. Eleven days is a long time to a lonely heart. Eleven days is an eternity to one trapped in a bubble of sadness.

Make no mistake, though I am sad for his departure, I get it. He doesn't get to see his family as often as I do. I want him to go. I want to share him with his mother. But I want to keep him too.

As this morning progressed, I could only hear him nagging. Or was it lecturing? Get WIC he says. Why? We don't use any of the stuff except bread and eggs. It is an effort I don't have in me to extend to the process. It will be off post, thus out of my comfort zone. Convenience. That is my motto. I did manage to make his two requested drinks and not burn the bacon today. I also managed to get our son on the bus during this time. I know my husband means well. But I also know that he doesn't fully understand and probably doesn't want to accept that I am sad.

Enough of my sad story.

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas

December 21 2016

Unexpected Betrayal

My oldest son who is still in an in between place has for the moment forsaken God. My heart breaks at this. Every time he would visit me he would tell me he is an atheist. He would become angry when I mentioned that going to church would be part of his visit. He made Sunday mornings difficult so that by the time I got to church I was shaking from anger. I managed to half force him, half encourage him to volunteer at my church twice. Once I was present and he had a blast. The second time he went alone and argued right up until the moment I introduced him to the lady in charge. Again he had a blast. I was trying desperately to show him church was fun. That he still loved God. I was praying he would want to get back into church.

When he was close to twelve and first moved to his Dad's house, he loved the church they attended. He was very involved in the youth group. He had a good relationship with the pastor. He wanted to be a missionary. But when his Dad moved him farther away from the church, and he could not attend, he lost his zeal. Then the way his father was yelling at him made him doubt God.

The entire time I am telling him to pray. To believe in God's plan for our lives. To pray for understanding of God's plan. To know that all things go according to God's will. I pray for him, I pray with him. I read the Bible to him and the younger two kids. I took him to church when I could. It did not change his mindset.

Fast forward to now. He is in an in between place. A place where neither I nor his Dad are in control at this very moment. I am trying to stand united, to extend an olive branch to his father. He continues to state that he will win. He always wins. This alone angers me, because it is not a game. This is our son. We need to be united, but he refuses to acknowledge me. Despite custody papers that state my right to be involved in this hospital stay, he refuses to involve me. I have gone around him. I have spent hours calling the people in charge, looking for any loophole that can grant me access. I am still only on the edge, but moving closer to being fully acknowledged. I get frustrated at the system. I see how it fails so many, and know that it is going to fail my son, yet I push forward.

Olive branch or not I finally found my edge and I jumped up to it and pushed. This will raise his father's anger once the knowledge of my signature on one piece of paper did. Ha. But still it is not about me winning. It is about fighting for my son, and having to go around to find legal loopholes, well so be it.

I find out from my son that this pastor from his Dad's church went to visit him. At first I am elated. Until I hear he carried no Bible. He offered no prayer, or advice, but he did offer a great guilt trip of how his actions were only hurting his father and that he was completely wrong. And then he went and told my son's dad all about the entire conversation. Really?

Knowing that my son had previously talked to my Dad, I called him. Oh my goodness, this is a reality! My Baptist father who may not attend church regularly was deeply disturbed by this turn of events.

To think that this man is leading a church, it makes you wonder if anything told to him by anyone in that church is held in confidence.

 Many years ago, when my son lived with me, he was having some difficulty with life. I reached out to my then Pastor who spent a couple of afternoons with him. To this day I have no idea what they talked about. All my Pastor told me was that he was a good boy. This is how it should be.

At this little visit my son relayed the events that led up to his decision. Instead of being prayed with and for and maybe a little scripture he was made to feel guilty and wrong. His feeling discounted and those of his father more important. At this very moment I am barely restraining myself from contacting this pastor and laying into him. I know I cannot do this right now. I know it may never be the right time, but I will never recommend people to this church. I really thought this guy was great. I had met him a few times. I saw how excited he was for my son to be included in church events even when he was at my house. He made it happen.

I listened to my son rant about how believing in God was crazy. How I had been asking him to pray, to keep the faith. He was betrayed. And I am so confused why this pastor would offer no solace, no scripture, no prayer and then betray his confidence.

Mathew 7:15 Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.
2 Corinthians 11:13 For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.

December 21, 2016

Sanity's Dream

Effort
 in everything

That day
  possibly that night

Hunger and thirst
  a heat wave settling over the land

Dust rises
 covering everything

Like the memory
 growing fainter with every breath

Burdens
 come with each move
  each step toward eternity

Forever
 just a word

Maybe a time span
 covering more than the dust
  leaving behind residue

Gone
 yet still here

Lost somewhere
 on a road
  or maybe a river

Forget
 yet, how could you?

A burning kiss
 or a searing touch

Seeking relief in the burning tar
 the smell
  an added relief

Why hurry?
 hurry to where?

The next phase is like a yield sign
 barely slowing down
  speeding up as you pass

Praying for release
  from the demons that hold you
   clawing at your skin
     driving you beyond sanity
       and way beyond desperation

No fear
 only pain

Pain is like life
 a pinch of reality
  keeping you on the move

Down the road
 out of state
  just a theory

Tearing away the ropes
  ropes that are weak

Pulling and pulling
 to freedom's doorstep

Falling in a heap
 hearing the cries
  cries of pain, loss, and hurt

It goes on
 the list
  it does

To forever's house
 with the waves crashing nearby

Sanity
 it is here

Twisted around
 becoming an insider

Or is that insanity
 words
  like a slap in the face
   or a broken nose
     gushing blood
       like a sweet red wine

Tasting of salt
 what a release

Broken and bloody
 where the mind wanders
  and there is relief

Let it out
 the pain
  those thoughts

Intent on destruction
 in the grip of the reaper
  who takes you away

Away from here
  or maybe from over there
   or could it be from anywhere?

Olivia J Stuart
Summer 1998