almost there

the end is drawing near. i can't wait.

it's not what you think unless you know about the garage sale and impending handing over of keys date. this is the day i've been both dreading and looking forward to. i wonder if this is like childbirth? i'd say we have 75 percent of our belongings out of vista ridge. the other 25 percent is floating around waiting to get shoved in a box or will become part of the garage sale fodder.

this prepping has told me two things about myself, which i probably was aware of but never put into words: one, we have too much stuff -- entirely. too. much. second, i don't need much. just god, love, and the air i breathe. we've spent the first ten years (give or take) of our marriage accumulating stuff and missing the gift god placed before me: his love and mdh. being in recovery from an addiction is not just about the addict; the entire family is affected. i wasn't consumed by alcohol but the anger, bitterness and resentment that comes when living with an alcoholic. god humbled me through my husband's addiction. i began to see even though i wasn't using, i was flawed. i didn't do everything right -- far from it. what an incredible revelation.

that's not sarcasm! i have played the martyr and boss for far too long. i'm done! i want us to share the fun and the responsibility. not that living with a substance dependency is fun, that's not what i'm saying, but as the one who "got 'er dun" i was often pegged "the bad guy," who was uptight and a fun sucker.

i'm going to let the One in control be in control, listen for his voice guiding me and pray for the obedience to do as He bids. and i'm going to knit. just started these a couple of nights ago.

angora baby booties from last minute knitted gifts

they're from one of my favorite knitting books and an old standby. until next time, let your light shine. quit hiding it under a basket! matthew 5:15

memories

em and me on dad's bday 2005

forgive me. this crafty insomniac has been medicating so she can sleep. as i drifted off to la-la land last night, i was thinking about my dad. yesterday marked the tenth anniversary of his death. ten years. i remember it like it was yesterday:  where i was, what i was doing, crumbling to my knees and "no!"...just like it was yesterday. the next few hours were fuzzier. i vaguely remember the drive to walnut or the faces of family and friends come to lend their support. it was surreal. that night we all -- mom and us kids -- fell asleep on the floor in the house i grew up in as we reminisced and remembered dad.

yes. it still brings me to tears...lump in my throat and all. my dad was gone and i couldn't understand how people could laugh and go about life as usual. why weren't shows interrupted with special news reports? don't people realize my dad is gone?! i'll never hear his voice tease, scold or advise me again. or hear his laugh. ever. he won't see me in my wedding dress or walk me down the aisle to give me away. he will never meet or know my daughters. ten years he's gone and i still wonder, daddy, are you proud of me?

oh, the curse of being a daddy's girl. i am self-proclaimed. i don't know if it's true or if he felt the same way, but from all accounts from mom and older siblings i am making the assumption. and i wear it proudly. i regret not knowing him better, my dad. and i regret the years i took him for granted. he and i didn't have the typical daddy's girl relationship. it was more like we butt heads because we were so alike. oh, i was a hellion -- at least that's what he would tell you if you asked. the worst part of it: it took his death for me to realize even at 33, i still needed him. i would always need him.

i don't want to see another daddy's girl miss the opportunity of laughing with and hugging her daddy while she still can, so i hope to impart some wisdom from this experience. i know a girl who has disowned her father -- my husband. it's a painful thing to watch. i used to get in the middle of that, but God has cured me of it. now i pray. i pray that a daughter's eyes and heart would be opened to the gift she refuses. i pray for a father's broken heart at -- his perception -- failing his daughter. and i know that in God's time He will make the way.