Category: family

D & D…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay8 Comments
When I first met my husband, he talked a lot about his parents. How much he loved his dad and respected his mom. He talked of his two little brothers, who were but wee little guys. Being the group-home-grown girl who had no real family to speak of, I found this perfect family to be romantically dreamy… 
In time I learned that his parents, weren’t actually his parents at all. Rather, they were a family who took him in, when he was in high school, because his own parents had kicked him out. His family, rather his real family, was one filled to the brim with alcoholism, manipulation and graphically violent abuse. At that time, Chw wanted nothing to do with his real family at all. 
My first meeting of the “foster” (if you will) parents was pretty uneventful. Chw and I were still just friends. We went out to their house to pick up some mail, etc. Low key, normal, every day stuff. Because we were just friends, I had no odd expectations or pressures. I found myself surprised that he called them by their first names, (For blog purposes, we’ll call them D and D) though I don’t know why. One thing I can tell you, it was the way Chw smiled in D and D’s presence, that September afternoon which first stirred my heart for him. Something about it was so raw and honest and it reached out and grabbed me, in that brief instant. 
Sometime after that, D and D didn’t like choices that Chw had made. Like all good parents should, (insert sarcastic cough here) they completely cut him out of their life. My, at the time, boyfriend was lost. Truly, it was like his life compass and sun had both just vanished. Out of complete desperation he turned to his real family for help, which truthfully broke his spirit right in half. It was horrible to witness, but still traumatic to look back and remember. 
About a year after we were married, Chw looked at his life one afternoon and felt a twinge of pride. Not the evil kind, mind you, but pride for how far he’d come. Defying expectations, he’d managed a successful job. He was happily married with a glowingly pregnant wife and had a lovely home. Daring to feel good about himself, on a whim he called D and D- hoping to make amends. 
Heaping his own shoulders with the entirety of blame, he begged forgiveness and they forgave. Soon they were coming over, with their two year older boys in tow. A happy family was restitching itself together and one couldn’t help but see God in the fine details of it all. 
A couple of years passed and then, once again, a decision (complete trivial in detail, as i don’t even remember what it was this time around) was made and D and D turned their back on my husband. I saw his brokenness through new eyes this time and so I worked hard, right beside him, to bring them around. Their judgmental absence was less this time and soon things were restored. By the time my husband and I celebrated our fifth anniversary, D and D were very much a part of our lives. We had family dinners, and outings. They couldn’t wait to be grandparents (whenever that worked out for us- which it hadn’t yet.). We prayed with them and talked out problems. Both Chw and I trusted them whole-heartedly with everything. We had all worked hard to get to that place, but we’d done it. They were young. We were super young. There wasn’t really an instruction book on these unorthodox situations… 
And then, things changed… 
Suddenly, my husband was having an affair, and D and D hated me. Behind my back they were urging him to leave me and not look back. It was all beyond confusing and I couldn’t understand because, as much as anyone had ever been- they were my family too. 
After our divorce, Chw stayed close with D and D. Even though he moved to Michigan, they remained his family- his parents. And then, in 2001 when he finally shared with them that we’d decided to reconcile our marriage- they made him choose: them or me. 
Broken hearted, he obviously chose me. 
And he didn’t look back. 
At least not for a long, long time… 
One day he admitted to me that the time during the affair and our divorce was a really dark time for him. He admitted lying to them, about me, so that they would be his and side with him. He just wanted to have a family, how could I blame him? I had been there… And it was his actions which hurt us all. But the damage had wounded, and the wounds had scarred… It had been 10 years and there was no going back. Still, he ached for his family some. He knew it would never be as it should be, but he wanted to try. He wrote them a letter, explaining what he had done. He prayerfully, tearfully, poured out his heart- stamped it and mailed it. 
He heard nothing back. 
Eventually, about a year ago, word began to spread to him that the male D had died. Then the rumor mill changed to no, he hadn’t died, but he was dying. Then, one day, the rumor mill came to him via a FB message: that D and D were looking for him. 
His heart, and hopes soared… 
We’ll ignore, for a moment, that he’d left them a voice mail EVERY Father’s day and Mother’s day, with his number. We’ll also ignore, the letter with the return address, phone number AND email address all included. We’ll ignore everything and call them. 
Which he did, and left another in a long string of voicemails which they would never return. 
Then, when Chw could no longer push them from his mind, he stopped by the store on his way home from work and ran into female D. Just like that. After four years of us being back in Idaho- poof- there she was, at a market just a mile from our house.

As it turns out, the male D is sick. Very sick… And he wants to see my husband. 

and the Female D acts, towards my husband on the phone, as though they are simply old friends who fell out of touch. 
And my husband asks to meet with her, and talk. And she refuses, adding bittersweetly that I am to be nowhere near their family, ever. And I don’t care because I think she is a vile, conditional and manipulative woman- but my husband cringes from the further pain of what’s been done. 
And finally, months after first phoning them, today he is there. Today he visits D and D. Today he says hello first, and begins that long goodbye that no one is ever ready for. Painfully he faces everything he’s lost: both what has been snatched from him and what he threw away. 
As for me, today I’m sickly reminded of how much the things they have said and done towards the end of our marriage- and since then- have hurt me. I’m reminded of how conivingly they architected the end of our marriage and how well they (mostly she) have always been able to pull my husbands strings. 
And then, shards of light fill my memory because I have nothing to worry about. 
Nothing at all. 
I know my husband, I love my husband, I TRUST my husband…
And I know that my husband loves me. 
And he needs this, so I pray for him. I pray it is beautiful and lovely, and nurturing, and healing. 
I do forgive them. I know that they made decisions based on lies. But they (mostly she) also made mistakes,
(many) of their own doing. No one’s perfect. So I forgive them. I am deeply sad that he is ill. I love him. I always have. He is a good, good man. I see SO MUCH of him in my husband. I am sad that my kids don’t know him. I am sad that his own sons grew up and became men and my husband simply missed it. I am sad because it all seems like such a tragic waste, and such a seeping mass of vile pride and arrogance.
 But I forgive them…
And sometimes i reforgive, and reforgive… 
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WANTED: a home, please…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay9 Comments
We didn’t come home to a welcome home banner or a beautiful balloon bouquet. Nope. Instead, we came home to our property management company announcing that our rental’s owner is short selling out from under us. Just dandy, isn’t it? With that bombshell of an announcement we are left unknowing if we still have a home, or for how long… 
Fan-flipping-tastic… 
I wanted to sit down and cry to them about how hard change is for my daughter. I wanted to paint pictures with great detail and imagery about how hard it’s going to be. I wanted to beg someone who mattered to please not sell, or to sell to someone who will continue to rent to us. (which is a possibility) 
Instead though, when my husband asked one simple question: how do we know what we are supposed to do if we have no idea how long we have? The property manager answered with: it isn’t just you, there are 8 other homes that are also short selling. Really? REALLY??? While we feel bad for the other families/people, the reality is it is our family we are concerned with… 
so much for a stressless rest of summer… 
Gosh, doesn’t it feel like we were just in a house mess? pfft… 
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What I’ve learned… {The No. Cal. Edition…}

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay4 Comments
I survived vacation… 
When people think of vacation, typically they envision sleeping in, lazy days and similar luxuries… Pretty much, they aren’t vacationing with me. I am a planner, by default. I love planning memorable things to do and making them (or most of them, anyhow) somehow magically become a reality on minimal budgets and shoestring dollar amounts. I usually, (obviously) survive, but I end up exhausted. 
This trip to California was no exception. 
Even so, along the way I learned some pretty big things that I wanted to share…
1.) No Cal drivers are awesome. Seriously. California, in it’s entirety, gets a bad wrap. We saw the most courteous and respectful drivers in San Jose, San Francisco and the entire area in between. It never ceased to amaze us. 
2.) No Cal gas prices are awesome. Again, something that surprised us… 
3.) Sometimes the best hotels, and staff members, are found in the least likely of places… 
4.) I am learning that I am NOT (by any shape of the imagination) a fan of wild animals in captivity. 
5.) I think that being out in the sea watching blue and humpback whales feed, swim and splash is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever been witness to. 
6.) I am not a sea person. I get sick. Super sick. Sicker than I’ve maybe ever been. Days later and I’m still not 100%. 
7.) Booking a casino hotel because the “price is right” is a stupid thing to do. A mistake I’m not likely to make again. 
8.) Everywhere but Idaho has way too many Trader Joe’s and the company needs to spread out a little. 
9.) The Golden Gate Bridge really is more beautiful when it’s foggy. 
10.) Sometimes a cab ride, in perfect timing, is the brightest spot in a bleak moment. 
11.) It’s fun to dream of fancy houses, without having to go home to clean them. (or pay for them.) 
12.) A cemetery is nothing to be scared of, at night. When fireworks are overhead it’s even better. 
13.) Flat beaches are way better than insanely hilly ones. 
14.) If not turned off, satellite activated GPS on a smart phone will drain a battery instantly. 
15.) Facebook has really humble headquarters. 
16.) Planning ahead is vital to the success of a vacation. 
17.) Being flexible with those plans is even more important. 
18.) Eating out at amazing places we don’t have at home, is awesome.
19.) And then, it suddenly isn’t… 
20.) There really is no place like home. 
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Nifty Fifty…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay13 Comments
It’s been awhile since i participated, but i was inspired by this challenge today, over at Mama Kat’s, so here I am… 3.) Create a bucket list of 50 things you want to do this summer (with or without the kids!)
  1. Sink my toes where the sand and sea kiss.
  2. Spend an afternoon feeding ducks and geese. 
  3. Take my nieces and nephews to the water park. 
  4. Drink sun tea by the gallons. 
  5. Drink fresh squeezed lemonade as often as possible. 
  6. Peach picking. 
  7. Fresh Peach canning. 
  8. Fresh, crisp salads for lunches and dinners. 
  9. Nighttime park movies, under the stars. 
  10. Sleeping in a tent. 
  11. Sunday afternoon picnics. 
  12. Dining Al’ Fresco.
  13. Campfire warmth, shadows and sounds. 
  14. Campfire smores. 
  15. Explore the woods. 
  16. Smell chlorine. a lot. 
  17. Lay and reading on a beach towel.
  18. Lay and read on the cool grass of the park, beneath the weeping willow tree. 
  19. Tiger’s blood snow cones. 
  20. The drive- in theater. 
  21. Talking beneath the stars. 
  22. Bike rides. 
  23. River floating. 
  24. Sunscreen. 
  25. Twinkle lit evenings on the patio. 
  26. Barbecues with friends. 
  27. Tennis. 
  28. Glasses of wine as the almost-midnight-sun sets. 
  29. Sprinkler rainbows, within reach in my yard. 
  30. Farmer’s market Saturday mornings. 
  31. Summer concerts. 
  32. The sound of joyful screams and coasters swirling about, around me. 
  33. Family frozen yogurt runs. 
  34. Fresh berries adorning cakes, pancakes, muffins, salads and sticky tiny child-hands. 
  35. Popsicle smiles. 
  36. Summer photos. 
  37. Shimmery, lime scented lotion. 
  38. California sunsets. 
  39. Time with our amazing Oregon friends. 
  40. Smoothies. 
  41. Fresh cut flowers vased on table tops and nightstands. 
  42. Flip flops revealing painted toe nails. 
  43. Strawberry, yogurt and granola breakfast sundaes. 
  44. Sidewalk chalk artist in residence and her creations. 
  45. Relaxed afternoons. 
  46. Watermelon, crisp and icy. 
  47. Cool inspiring mornings to write or read by. 
  48. Fajita and Margarita Fridays.
  49. Grilled summer flatbread pizzas. 
  50. Summer lovin’, hand holding and being with the man I love… 

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the depths of despair…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay2 Comments
Father’s day was one of those frustrating days that, for all intents and purposes should be wonderfully reflective but because life has a way of complicating things- it became less so. 
Significantly less, honestly… 
On Saturday Chw was short tempered and moody. We’d had a great Friday night, and he’d slept in that morning so, for the life of me, I couldn’t quite psychoanalize why he was being cantankerous. For the most part Gen and I ignored his mood, and Amanda went to work. As the day progressed, and we made our way to the Roller Derby bout- he seemed to even out and all was right with the world again. 
Enter Sunday morning. Homemade cinnamon rolls, warm and gooey… Cards, kisses, hugs, doting affection, new clothes and plans for taking him to his dream museum while we are on vacation- were passed out. Happiness flooded around us, or should have. 
Then I remember… For us, Father’s Day always sucked. 
How could I forget? 
There is the slap-in-your-face reminder that we had craptacular father experiences growing up- (aside from my foster dad, as I’ve mentioned, but the details only complicate this further- so moving on.) And then, when we were still but babies ourselves Father’s Day (and Mother’s Day) served as a blatant kick-in-the-teeth reminded of the babies we’d lost. 
Well into our 30’s, we don’t dwell on such things now. My husband is a truly great dad and we love our kids more than we can possibly sum up in words and phrases. I was one hundred percent eager to shower him with the adoration he deserves- but from the start the day seemed off. 
Then, during a quiet mid-morning moment he confessed to me why his mood had been off the day before. 
Because he feels like a fake dad. 
A fake dad… 
And I couldn’t hug him hard enough. Then Genny took him (and me) to see Kung Foo Panda 2 and it sort of made me want to crawl in bed and cry the day away. For my husband. For our kids. All he wanted today, honestly, was to spend the day with us. He wanted his life to feel real, validated and authentic. But for him, it’s already (by the nature of life) a sensitive day… And for our oldest daughter, it’s just an unexplainable complicated day. Instead it sort of took on this element of sadness… 
Sadness sucks. 
And then, when he went out of his way to do something nice, his family just sort of heaped on the hurt. Also with details far too complicated to delve into here- he came home emotionally beaten and trying to put on a brave face. He actually felt GUILTY for ruining our efforts, so he spent the rest of the day pretending. 
All in all, it’s far too much to bear for one man. I felt so helpless… 
The morals of this melancholy tale are- 
– infertility/miscarriage sucks ass everyday, but some days are far worse than others. (primarily Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, baby showers, etc…) 
– loving kids, as though they were your own, who have been hurt before you is hard. So hard. So sad because you love them and though some wounds heal, those scars will always be a part of who they are. Also, like an ugly monster, those scars will rise up and effect you on the biggest, most significant of occasions… and on holidays. Like Father’s Day and Mother’s Day. 
– Sometimes life is unfair and it sucks. 
– Being sad unexpectedly, or still hurting from something that was a long time ago isn’t self pity- it’s just the way it is sometimes. Losses, like those of babies, children, parents, innocence, childhood, etc are real life losses… they leave a part of you empty for the long haul. 
– Be sensitive to people who have lost babies or been abused. PLEASE don’t tell them to “get over it” because it was “a long time ago.” 
The end… 
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