Kryptonite

Humor is my super power.

It’s not that I claim to be so hysterically entertaining or funny. It’s that humor is the “S” on my chest. It gets me through the toughest times and keeps me seeing the upside, or the irony, while it fuels my optimism. I rely on it heavily to diffuse nearly every difficult situation of my life.

But then there’s kryptonite. And existing within inches of it for several weeks or having it force fed to me has had crippling effects.

It’s not the death of my stepfather. We had an amiable (though complicated) relationship, but he wasn’t ever a father figure to me. He married my mother when I’d been gone from home for four years and he never had children of his own. He didn’t have fatherly ways. He enjoyed limited time with my kiddos, in small doses, but he and my mother built a very tight little world for themselves that didn’t really have room for others. And that was okay because my mom and I do best with one another when we visit only occasionally. We have far too much traumatizing history and, because it’s truly pointless to confront or try to change anything (I know – I tried for years), I simply move forward when history is continually revised and regurgitated in my presence. And I suck on my kryptonite tablet while moving closer to the precipice.

And I nearly fell over it and crashed to the bottom.

Thank God for trees that grow close to craggy cliff sides and insist on pushing roots out into thin air. As I began to tumble, one of those tree roots caught me and that’s where I’ve been hanging, but it's also what saved me.

Strangely enough, my tree root was my kids getting majorly sick. High temps, deep coughs, too sick to read or even play a computer game. They came down with what Grizzly and I had two months ago. I had hoped, back then, that The Wild Man had the same thing we had even though his symptoms were different, but I was wrong. And Bo never did get sick during that siege. They both made up for it. Grizzly and I were immune because we had already had it. Quite sure it was H1N1. The university where Bo is attending has had a clinic just to test for it, it’s been so prolific. But she was too sick to get there.

I was called back to fulltime, hands-on mothering, because being younger, they were hit even harder than we were.

And all the tending and nighttime vigils and forehead mopping and praying brought me back to reality. And it gave me space to spit out the kryptonite and a legitimate reason to be away from the source. In so doing, I began to recover. And friends provided food and support and cards and conversation - and the thing I was lowest on - humor.

And I’ve received the sweetest comments and emails from you all. You’ve taken the time to pray for me, for us, to check in – to drop another note. And I began to remember why writing was important to me, even if I couldn’t find any words worth jotting down. I’m not sure these qualify but it’s a start.

So, hello. I’m back. Not fully there but on the road. I know you understand. I’ll be by to visit soon and hopefully, not from the computer in the solarium at the insane asylum.

I’m limiting my time with Lex Luthor.

© 2009

Almost There....

Hi Everyone.....

A quick note with an update. Today's is the funeral.

What a whirlwind dying is. I had no idea and have signed a contract promising never to do it.

A. It's unbelieveably expensive

B. It's incredibly involved

C. We will have to revert to a funeral pyre for me because we would never be able to afford all the costs. (But that's only if I break my contract. Otherwise, I would be very irritated about being put on pyre.)

Like hospitals, funerals bring out the best and the worst. The worst has been minimal and the best has been abundant. God sent me a family friend to help out with everything. He's on leave from Okinawa and when there is time, I will tell you about him. But truly, he was a Godsend. Between his computer skills and Bo's, they have provided what ten people would normally do. I have wonderful, loving friends who are cooking for the luncheon today. They've also made us dinner and insured my kids are supported with overnights and distractions. Our own dear pastor and family are singing today for the services, even though my mother and stepdad weren't part of our congregation. My pastor has gone to the hospital to counsel with my mother and pray with my stepfather and was there just a few hours before he passed.

And you. You have sent me notes of support and blessings and love. And you've prayed for me. And those prayers have been answered in ways I could have NEVER forseen. Thank you seems so inadequate but it's from my heart.

There are still a few days of wrapping up but I expect to return here Monday. I know your lives are moving forward and I'm missing so much but I also appreciate your generous grace. You are in my prayers as well.

With Love,

Robynn

Passages.......

Hi My Caring Friends.........

This is to let you know that my stepdad passed away last night just before 8pm. It was peaceful, he knew us up until the end, and when I asked him if he knew I loved him he squeezed my hand. He was with my mom and other people he loved as he drew his last breath.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your outpouring of love and prayers. Sometime I'll be able to tell you how very much I felt those prayers and how they were answered. For now, I will be helping my mother to move into this new place of her life. There is much to take care of and I will be absent for a bit but will return as soon as I can.

Blessings to you all.

With Love,

Robynn

Your Life Is Important to Me

Keeping Robynn's Ravings separate from 30 Day Throw Down! is my way of addressing two very important aspects of my life: humor and eating to optimize health and weight. The second of these isn't always funny. Well, the first isn't either. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Nevertheless, today my blogs must intersect.

Like all areas of our lives, things cross over sometimes. Your talk-til-you-drop pesky neighbor starts shopping at the same grocery store you do so you drive 40 miles to the next town to avoid hour-long conversations about her colonoscopy, with photos. Oh wait, maybe that's just me.

Today's info on 30 Day is SO VITAL to your well being that I have to send you there. PLEASE go. Never come by again if you don't want to but know I care about you and want you to thrive. Besides, who will comment if something happens to you? See? Altruism positively drips from me.

It will take about 10 minutes. And you can sit down and have a cup of coffee. Call it a prescription from the Village Medicine Woman. But please take this SHORT ten minutes, including the video, for yourself. If you have or know anyone who has suffered from heart attack, stroke, cancer, diabetes, or asthma it may be the best ten minutes you'll spend in the blogosphere. AND NO, I'm not selling ANYTHING because I don't have anything to sell. Except my old gym suit from junior high school. But I can't even sell that because it's my proof I was once skinny. So there you go.

And speaking of health.......

I wanted to give you all an update on my stepfather.
I have been spending most of my time at the hospital and must apologize again for not visiting you all. I miss our visits. They brighten my day. But there are only so many hours. We spent about five of them yesterday in two meetings with the funeral home.

He is down to his final hours, maybe days, and plans must be in place. Very surreal and macabre to sit with a funeral director in a convalescent hospital while your loved one is just down the hall. I almost threw up. But that wouldn't be fair to my mother who has to do this AND lose her spouse. So I perspired profusely instead. And twisted my hands. And sighed way too often, though involuntarily.

My blogs keep me connected to something other than death and difficulty right now, though finding the time to be here is hard. THANK YOU for caring and dropping in. Watching end-of-life issues makes a person even more committed to caring about health while we still have choices. Please eat well, visit 30 Day, and take care of yourselves.

With Love,

Robynn

Photo source: Internet Images

© 2009

Observational Twitter 22

Famous Quote:

“Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” ~ Tennyson

Obscure Quote:

“Tis better to have loved, had love requited, harkened to volumes written about your charms, fair heart, and abounding beauty, and be positively ill from the number of chocolates you are continually proffered and encouraged to enjoy. But feel free to form your own opinion.” ~ Robynn

© 2009

Little Doghouse on The Prairie

It’s Halloween, children. Time for a story.

A long, long time ago, there was a dog named JoJo who was very happy being an only dog. However, she was unable to convey this to her loopy owners. They were convinced that JoJo’s life would be enriched by a canine companion. They talked about getting another dog but no one did anything, which was fine with Jo. Then one day, JoJo’s Great Aunt Sandy decided they needed a little Chihuahua puppy who was looking for a home. For a small fee they could own a nearly invisible dog who was so tiny JoJo might actually think she had a flea instead of a friend.

The children thought it would be fun to name her Lassie because she looked nothing like a famous dog with this name. The children of this family were as strange as the parents. So Lassie came home one evening to the delight of the children. But not JoJo.

Lassie was very afraid and everyone did all they could to make her comfortable. They kissed her, held her, fed her, and babied her. She seemed to relax, though she always shook as if there were a gale force wind in the living room.

Lassie’s favorite pastime was peeing and pooping on the carpet. This made her owners very unhappy. It made JoJo disgusted. It made the children and the father blind for they could not see little tootsie rolls laying right in their path. It was like a Christmas Miracle that only the mother could see them.

No matter what they did, they could not train Lassie to go potty outside. JoJo tried to show her but Lassie, like the children and father, pretended she couldn’t see things right in front of her such as the pet door that led to the outside world. She felt the indoor bathroom was much more convenient and warm and did not feel an outhouse was necessary.

The mother got very annoyed with this position and would give the wee dog scathing looks which caused her to shake and look decidedly guilty. But it did not cause her to poop elsewhere. That’s when the mother got a brilliant idea. She would return this dog to her dear Aunt who had two more dogs exactly like Lassie. The mother thought that Lassie might learn from dogs her own size and the Aunt thought it was a marvelous idea, though she had to convince her husband, The Ogre.

The Ogre was not happy but the switch was made. Lassie did learn to go to the bathroom where dogs should go (or so it was presumed) and she was thrilled to have dogs around her who were also the same size as fleas. They played and ran and soon she became queen of the castle. She also made the Ogre love her and fuss over her as if she were a real princess daughter and not simply a dog. And they all lived, and are still living, happily ever after.

You may think this is the end of the story, but it’s not. JoJo went back to being an only dog and was very happy with this arrangement until her parents decided she should have another companion. That’s when Minky came to live with them, which is another story altogether. JoJo was just as thrilled as before.

And while Lassie was still living with JoJo and her family, the children who were completely unable to see little dog tootsie rolls laying about on the carpet, could see the possibilities in dressing up this tiny dog in doll clothes. The little girl who lived there even made a miniature prop background to feature the wee dog in photos. And JoJo was also arrayed for the occasion which made her all the more thrilled to see the little dog go. It became apparent to Jo that Lassie’s influence over the children was horrid.

And now, this is the end. Except for the pictures. And we all know those are worth a thousand words, though that never stops the author from using a thousand words and many more besides, even long after they have ceased to mean anything.

Now, go and have a very fun night and try to dress up as perfectly as our models. They have a story of their own they tell other dogs when they attempt to explain these incriminating photos.

___________________________________________________

“Life on the prairie was hard. We had to do everything in long dresses. Going to the bathroom was nearly impossible. Stories of my indiscretions often leave out the fact that I was hobbled by outfits such as this.”

“You can see how the bitter years took their toll on my mother, JoJo, here. She looks crabby and disgusted. She was.”

“This view shows you just how much dress I had to endure. It made me tough, though. And lean. And shaky. I think it weighed more than I did.”

“Here I am as that prairie wind began to whip up and threaten my very existence.”

“Some say I look like Granny Clampett from the Beverly Hillbillies in this photo. I have no idea who that is but she must be seriously good looking.”

“As Jo is my witness, I will never go to the bathroom outdoors again!”

“And thus ends my tail. Happy Howloween.”

© 2009

Rich Text

And not the html kind.

Scold me if you want to but I have to tell you something.

I live in California.

We aren’t supposed to talk on our cell phones without a Bluetooth device while we are driving. That doesn’t work too well for me as is evidenced by THIS post.

We aren’t supposed to text and drive.

I think both rules are good ones.

And I also think rules are made to be broken occasionally, otherwise, we wouldn’t have gravity. Is that clear now?

I broke a rule. I checked a text and I sent a text. While in a car. As the driver. In my own defense, I was on private property – the church where my son has choir - and hadn’t yet entered the “no phone zone.” I was sitting at a stoplight ready to exit the church property when a text came in. Much is going on right now with my stepfather’s issues and so I looked. It was a dear friend and I could have decided to look later, but I didn’t. I flipped open my phone, read a kind and supportive message, and typed a two word reply. I was on the last two letters of my reply when my son said, “The light is green.”

Instead of beginning my entrance into the intersection, I finished those letters (because no one was behind me), pressed ‘send,’ and then looked up to proceed – these three actions took three seconds.

Just at that moment as I was removing my foot from the brake, a car came careening through the intersection at 50 mph running a red light. It came from around a curve to my left and I would have never seen it. Very likely it would have killed me and possibly my son. I almost always look left and right before I proceed because this is THE craziest state for people who push to make it through the yellow light. The guy couldn’t have been pushing. It had been red too long. He never saw it, would be my take. And my looking left and right wouldn’t have revealed him to me because of the angle of the road.

My son’s jaw dropped and he said, “Do you realize that text message just saved our lives?!” And I got chills, and then tears. He was exactly right. I proceeded through the intersection and then had to pull over. It wasn’t my day, our day, to die. It wasn’t the other driver’s day to die.

I’m not advocating the flagrant flaunting of rules. These two are especially good. It’s just that all our actions fall under a higher set of rules and our days and times are ordered.

While I was pulled over, I called my friend and told her, tearfully, what had just transpired. She got chills because she almost didn’t send the message. She had sent one about ten minutes earlier and then got busy with the house, the dogs, etc. But something kept working at the back of her mind to send the second text. And that was the one.

It could be argued that had I not responded to the text I may have been more aware. And that is a possibility. But I don’t think so. My head has been elsewhere with all that’s going on and I’m not at the top of my highly attenuated driving game. I think I needed something to stop me for a few life-changing moments.

Don’t worry, though. I will presume this was a once-in-a-lifetime event where the phone is concerned and won’t be driving while under the influence of texting. I think the real text message from the One who cares about us the most was, “Wake up!” And that one, I’m answering.

© 2009