Empty spaces

I have written and stopped myself from publishing two posts this week. An unfinished poem. A piece about Boston.

Pages of empty spaces.

My husband has been gone since the last Saturday in March. He missed Easter. Spring break. The camellias in full bloom; the heady scent of the hyacinths; the flutter of cherry, dogwood, redbud, and pear blossoms; the greening of the deep woods behind our house; the first azaleas; the progress of the fast-growing hostas; the blue twilights and warm nights; and the annual frog orgy and hatching of tadpoles in our garden pond. He's a Master Gardener, so it seems especially unfair for him to miss the best part of spring in Virginia.

April in Afghanistan is not comparable--or so he tells me.

While we have been heartsick and obsessed with the IEDs that killed three and maimed many in Boston, my mind has also been preoccupied with the IEDs he may encounter on his travels.

The last time he was in Afghanistan, mortars were fired into the compound where he was staying. I know military members and their spouses deal with these sorts of concerns all the time, but my husband isn't in the military and dare I say it, "I didn't sign up for this." Unless you count that promise I made about "for better or for worse." ; )

I've told my teens many times that you never just marry a person. You marry their family, their history, their baggage as well as their accomplishments. When I was 20 and walking down the aisle in my mother's wedding dress, I never stopped to consider that I was also marrying my husband's career. 

I'm grateful for the benefits and opportunities his work has provided for us, but I regret the hours, days, weeks, and months it's stolen from us. He gets up at 4 a.m. to head to work and gets home close to 6 p.m. He's often exhausted and always rushed, and I've seen the toll the constant sleep deprivation has taken on him. He travels A LOT, usually leaving on a weekend so he can be at his destination by Monday morning, and so we sacrifice even more of our scant time together. He goes all over the world, sometimes to locations that are less than safe.

I wait for the short, spotty e-mails he pecks out on his phone--when he can get a signal and a moment. I write to him every day, whether I hear from him or not.

"Stuff" happens when he's gone. From serious medical problems and family crises to problems with plumbing, cars, major appliances, storms, sick kids, whatever. All those challenges in life are magnified when I'm dealing with them alone. While he works long days wherever he is, I work long days compensating for his absence.

Most of the time, I deal matter-of-factly with whatever is thrown my way (as does he ), but sometimes I get hammered by feelings of frustration, longing, guilt, hurt, loneliness, fear, all the while telling myself I CANNOT FALL APART, my family is depending on me. I'm guessing he feels the same way.

And while I don't like to entertain Worry, sometimes it walks in the door and takes a seat at the table, courtesy of the daily news. This week as we viewed photos of the ghastly injuries from Monday's bombing, Worry whispered in my ear: "Your husband is traveling in the land of IEDs and mortars and helicopter crashes and enemy combatants."

As I deal with his temporary absence, I can't help thinking about those who are dealing with much worse things--at home and abroad.

All those empty spaces. All those battered hearts.

It is Wednesday in what feels like the slowest week of my life.

I am waiting for Sunday.

Sun Day. Sun Day. Sun Day.

Old bones and new life

Friday night I slept outside with my daughter, directly under billowy clouds blowing past the pale blue sparks of stars and tree branch silhouettes swaying in the breeze. It was a perfect night--until I woke up feeling like I'd been beaten with a stick in my sleep, everything stiff and hurting. (Next time, we need an air mattress!).

Saturday morning was beautiful, and despite the aches and pains, I was pulled out into the world by my dog and my camera.

Waiting patiently...

 Cherry blossoms are so beautiful and so short lived.

Red azalea buds waiting to make their entrance.

One day I'll learn the names of everything that grows and blooms in my garden.

Overnight, the woods started to green. I love the way the leaves turn up and cup the sunlight. 

I try to do the same, looking heavenward and gathering up all the warmth and light the Universe has to offer.

Books we've been reading at Chez V

Here are a few of the books my daughter and I have been reading over the last few months

 Tell the Wolves I'm Home: A Novel by Carol Rifka Brunt is a story that focuses on filial love, loss, grief, and coming of age. Set in the 1980s, when the AIDS epidemic first gained national attention, the story is told from the viewpoint of 14-year-old June, a young woman whose best friend and confidant is her uncle, Finn, a renowned artist, who is dying of AIDS. Finn's illness and death push the unusual nature of his relationship with June to the fore, exacerbates the bitter divide between June and her accomplished 16-year-old sister, and reveals the truth behind the tangled and strained family relationships at the novel's center. After Finn's death, June befriends a mysterious stranger who also knew Finn and uncovers an unlikely path toward healing and maturity.  This is a unique and compelling coming-of-age story.

 I couldn't wait to get my hands on Neil Young's autobiography, Waging Heavy Peace. I started listening to Neil Young when I was 15 years old. Decades later, he's still making great music and I'm still buying it. Neil is a quirky character, fearless artist, and interesting activist. Years ago, I read a 600-page biography of him, but I really wanted to hear about his life in his own words and learn more about his creative process. Waging Heavy Peace gives insight into the man, his music, his passions, and his path in life. It's not a neat chronology of events--it's a collection of stories, anecdotes, and reflections. (If you've read Bob Dylan's autobiography, Chronicles, you're familiar with the format.)

Amazon's description of Waging Heavy Peace is perfect:  Neil Young tells of his childhood in Ontario, where his father instilled in him a love for the written word; his first brush with mortality when he contracted polio at the age of five; struggling to pay rent during his early days with the Squires; traveling the Canadian prairies in Mort, his 1948 Buick hearse; performing in a remote town as a polar bear prowled beneath the floorboards; leaving Canada on a whim in 1966 to pursue his musical dreams in the pot-filled boulevards and communal canyons of Los Angeles; the brief but influential life of Buffalo Springfield, which formed almost immediately after his arrival in California. He recounts their rapid rise to fame and ultimate break-up; going solo and overcoming his fear of singing alone; forming Crazy Horse and writing “Cinnamon Girl,” “Cowgirl in the Sand,” and “Down by the River” in one day while sick with the flu; joining Crosby, Stills & Nash, recording the landmark CSNY album, Déjà vu, and writing the song, “Ohio;” life at his secluded ranch in the redwoods of Northern California and the pot-filled jam sessions there; falling in love with his wife, Pegi, and the birth of his three children; and finally, finding the contemplative paradise of Hawaii. Astoundingly candid, witty, and as uncompromising and true as his music, Waging Heavy Peace is Neil Young’s journey as only he can tell it.

 This book was a birthday gift from my friend Sherry. It's part memoir and part tribute, the story of a mother and son's relationship as revealed in the books they read, cherish and analyze after the mother is diagnosed with terminal cancer. The books provide a path to discussing topics, ideas, and memories that would never slide easily into everyday conversation. Their reactions to the books they choose to read frames the nature of their relationship and gives insight into their character.

Amazon says: This is the inspiring true story of a son and his mother, who start a “book club” that brings them together as her life comes to a close. Over the next two years, Will and Mary Anne carry on conversations that are both wide-ranging and deeply personal, prompted by an eclectic array of books and a shared passion for reading. Their list jumps from classic to popular, from poetry to mysteries, from fantastic to spiritual. The issues they discuss include questions of faith and courage as well as everyday topics such as expressing gratitude and learning to listen. Throughout, they are constantly reminded of the power of books to comfort us, astonish us, teach us, and tell us what we need to do with our lives and in the world. Reading isn’t the opposite of doing; it’s the opposite of dying.   

As a side note, I had not read ONE of the many books described in this memoir, but I still enjoyed the story. One book that they discussed that I'm interested in is The Lizard Cage

I recently read Condoleezza Rice's memoir Condoleezza Rice: A Memoir of My Extraordinary, Ordinary Family and Me , not realizing until later it was an abridged version of  Extraordinary, Ordinary People: A Memoir of Family. I was attracted to the story because I was interested in learning how an African-American woman ended up in the White House under a conservative Republican president from Texas. However, once I started reading, I found what captivated me was not the details of how she ended up becoming an international relations expert and secretary of state but how she lived as a child in segregated Birmingham, Alabama, witnessed the explosive effects of the Civil Rights Movement there when she was a teenager, and how her parents (and the black community) worked to provide a top-rate education, culture, aspirations, and confidence to a generation steeped in inequality and discrimination.

Rice was pushed hard to succeed by her parents at every age and stage of life, but she also drove herself to excel in everything from classical piano to figure skating to academia. An only child, she was the somewhat spoiled center of her parents' world, and she carried their aspirations as well as her own onto a global stage. I loved reading about her family, their support of her, their work in the community, and their legacy.

 My daughter read this 500-page book in a day and a half. I plan to read Firefly Lane  too. It tells the story of two friends who meet when they're in eighth grade in 1974.  Amazon says:

"For thirty years, Tully and Kate buoy each other through life, weathering the storms of friendship---jealousy, anger, hurt, resentment. They think they’ve survived it all until a single act of betrayal tears them apart . . . and puts their courage and friendship to the ultimate test.

Firefly Lane is for anyone who ever drank Boone’s Farm apple wine while listening to Abba or Fleetwood Mac. More than a coming-of-age novel, it’s the story of a generation of women who were both blessed and cursed by choices. It’s about promises and secrets and betrayals. And ultimately, about the one person who really, truly knows you---and knows what has the power to hurt you . . . and heal you. Firefly Lane is a story you’ll never forget . . . one you’ll want to pass on to your best friend."

 What is the What was another of my daughter's spring break reading selections. She highly recommends this book. Amazon says: What Is the What is the epic novel based on the life of Valentino Achak Deng who, along with thousands of other children —the so-called Lost Boys—was forced to leave his village in Sudan at the age of seven and trek hundreds of miles by foot, pursued by militias, government bombers, and wild animals, crossing the deserts of three countries to find freedom. When he finally is resettled in the United States, he finds a life full of promise, but also heartache and myriad new challenges. Moving, suspenseful, and unexpectedly funny, What Is the What is an astonishing novel that illuminates the lives of millions through one extraordinary man.

(This post was NOT sponsored, and the books were not provided free for review but purchased.)

Life surrounded by books

We have always been a family that was All About Books. We didn't buy a television until I was 45, but as the bookcases in our bedroom reveal, we have been buying books for decades. 

The stack below is next to my big red chaise, waiting for me to decide what I want to read next.

I like to have poetry books on the nightstand, to keep me company during the night watches.

But most of my poetry books live in a bookshelf in my office...

 

...sharing space with the writing books.

The how-to art and craft books live with the design books here: 

 

Elsewhere in the house are shelves designated for books about cooking, travel, art history, gardening, and other lifestyle topics. Essay collections, religious texts, and literary and pop fiction are sorted out too.

In my son's bedroom, three walls are lined floor to ceiling with built-in bookcases. All those bookcases were one of the reasons we bought this house. Five of them are fully loaded with books, organized by reading level and topic, fiction and non-fiction. The others contain stereo equipment, empty Cheez-it boxes, dirty glasses, muscle car models, travel souvenirs, plastic bins of "stuff," and stacks of shorts, t-shirts, and jeans.

My daughter has a small bookshelf with her favorite books in her room, and there are other books stashed about the house.

No, we have not kept every book we ever purchased.

Yes, we have donated many books to different organizations over the years.

Yes, my husband has a Kindle, so we also have a digital book collection.  

No, I don't have a Kindle and prefer real books.

Yes, my favorite way to treat myself is with a trip to a bookstore.

No, I haven't written a book yet.

Yes, I will be writing a post this week about some of the recent books I've read. 

Read anything interesting lately? Tell us all about it in the comments section. 

Ten things I'm celebrating

1. Remember how we were hoping and praying our house appraisal would meet the minimum needed to qualify for a refinance? We not only made the minimum amount, we reached a number that wasn't too far below what we paid for the house in 2007. This was not only a big boost for us financially but a nice boost psychologically. It's good to know our home's value hasn't fallen as far as we feared. Our mortgage isn't underwater.
2. The paperwork my husband needs to sign for the refinance will be ready tomorrow afternoon. Why is that a big deal? Because my husband has been out of the country for a week, will be home for less than 24 hours, and then will be out of the country for two more weeks. That the critical piece of paperwork needed to proceed with the refinancing will be ready in that window on a Saturday is a happy miracle.
3. Remember my fear of my car's central computer being broken? It wasn't! Instead of facing a more than thousand dollar repair, we only had to suck up $189.
4. My daughter got a job refereeing parks and recreation league games. This week she'll be making $60-80. Plus, she got a perfect score on Learner's Permit test, and I'm teaching her to drive.
5. My son will have earned close to $500 this week doing odd jobs for neighbors.
6. I've been working (part-time) in a doctor's office for three weeks now and finally feel I've got the primary elements of the job nailed down. The job is everything I hoped it would be, and I feel very fortunate to work in this office with a great team of professional, positive, and upbeat people. The office is about two miles from my home, my hours are ideal, the work itself is gratifying (hands-on helping patients) and I come home happy and energized, not stressed and tired. Grateful!
7. Even though I woke up to temps in the 20s yesterday and it was sleeting (Hello! I live in the South!), there are rumours we will have real spring temps in the next few days.
8. My husband and daughter are nursing one of our big koi back to health and one week after being quarantined in a giant Rubbermaid container, he is still with us.
9. I will see all my siblings next month when we gather to celebrate my nephew James's marriage to his longtime girlfriend, Shannon.
10. Even on a limited budget, we've had a really great spring break.

Any good news you want to share?