Category: home

an epiphony of blue and white…

Published on by Mae @ RainydayinmayLeave a comment

One afternoon, last week, I was running some errands. Here’s the thing about Michigan… There will almost always been a grassy patch in the middle of city, and in that grassy patch there is a good chance you will see some form of wildlife. (I have seen more deer, bunnies and random other creatures in the middle of ordinary urban lawn patches than when I have been out in nature hoping for such encounters.) Anyway, last week I was going about my busy day, caught up in my list and life and adulthood and how those things often play together to cover a moment’s unique beauty by grown up necessity.

I eased slowly out of the parking spot and pull forward to begin the exit from the lot when suddenly the largest rabbit I have ever seen goes loping from the grassy and wildflower riddled patch on my right, over to the more lush patch on my left. While the moment caught me with a combined sense of wonder and the mental beginnings of a good comedy bit about giant bunnies crossing the road, I quickly came to terms with the fact that I am not a comedian. Instead I parked once again and thought about what had just happened. I observed the rabbit, all fur and grace and cuteness. In the way that an optometrist flicks a lens to change our vision, I took in the various wildflowers around this bunny and I. The purple and orange petals speckling the sea of swaying green. Here next the banquet hall and pizza place was something so ordinarily beautiful, but how often had I not noticed? A path I had not only taken hundreds of times, but this very parking lot was one I had been in four times that week alone.

What else was I missing, because I simply refused to look? 

I have been on this adventure to live a life of more intention, for a while. Each day I grow a bit more observant and a tad more grateful for what I see. Last week I stumbled into an ordinary super market, only to find that it was a blissful place of inspiration and deliciousness. It has been five days since that accidental encounter and I have ached to go back every day, ever since. Ached to go to a grocery store? I know… It sounds ridiculous.

Over the weekend we grilled dinner and opened a small little bottle of blackberry wine. I sat with it resting on my tongue for a bit. Sure, I get that this isn’t how one is supposed to drink wine, but I didn’t care. Gone were rash fears of tooth decay or programmed routines of dissecting the notes with my palate. I simply wanted to feel that tingle and taste that fruit for a little while longer.

On Saturday we went to a little Korean restaurant we have loved for years. As I dipped my chopsticks into various dishes, I reached out to try the things I was sure I did not like before. I tried them in combination with other things and my taste buds exploded in delight. When we are honest, isn’t this what savoring life’s little bits is really about? Taking in the good, with the bad? Resting on the balancing line, alert but content to be there and learn what we can while we are? Maybe I am wrong, but these days those moments when I keep myself in check and do just that are the times when I feel like I am exactly where I should be.

In our new living room we painted some walls blue, and some walls white. In the corner where the walls meet it is impossible to say if this is a blue room or a white room, but is that really a necessity anyhow?  This is a room, it is our room. Our living room in our home and we love it. The same with life. Some moments are hard, others are not. This does not make it a hard life, or an easy one, but simply a life. Not one-dimensional, not shallow, not pure bliss. A canvas of peaks and valleys and hues of many shade. The piece is not done yet, and I am glad. By the time it is, may I have this intentional, simplistic and peaceful thing down pat. Until then, I’ll keep trying.

That giant rabbit is just living his life. He knows a busy street is right there, and I’m sure he realizes many a creature has died at its truth. Even so, there he is, doing his bunny thing. I want to be like that rabbit. I don’t want to be deaf to the roar of danger just over there, but I want to live happy and content in what I’ve got right here- my beautiful corner of blue and white…

Home…

Published on by Mae @ RainydayinmayLeave a comment

Two Julys ago I danced, headphones blaring, spreading a roller filled with paint over dingy greyed apartment walls. The walls were transforming into a brighter shade of winter snow, hoping to bring bright into the basement apartment which relied on only one glass door window for daylight.

I had spent months painting walls, beside my husband. We had tiled a kitchen, restored a fireplace and stood distantly side-by-side as we turned a house we were impartial to, into a home for our family. This last bit, an apartment for my mother, felt bigger than a paint job.

Two years ago I was seeing a counselor weekly. I was on the verge of an internal emotional collapse due the impending changes happening in my family, and in my home. My mother was coming to live with me. My mother, whom I had not actually lived with since I was twelve. My mother, our history of severe abuse and neglect spread like a chasm of complication and fear between us. She stated that coming to live with me sounded like hell to her, and if I were being honest, I felt the same. Instead I lied to myself and anyone who would listen about how I simply wanted her last days on earth to be happy and healthy ones. I picked up the responsibility of healing the relationship between us and carried it all alone. This, while distance grew by the day between my husband and I. He was my partner, my very best friend and I had no idea how to process such an unexplained gap. This house, and the impending arrival of my mother sat between us like a foul toad, squatting and promising to destroy everything it touched. Life felt hard, heavy, with air dank and thick. My flight or fight instinct kicked in roughly two years ago. I had to fight for everything I loved, or get out. I knew it as well as I understood anything. What I did not understand was the distance between Chw & I, or how to repair it. I did not understand how to walk in steps without him really present by my side. I did not understand how to approach and deal with this thing regarding my mother. Who am I kidding, before that house I felt competent and capable, but in that house I did not really know much of anything at all.

I flew. I disappeared into school on an impulse decision and lost myself into the healing of an unhealthy friendship because there I understood exactly where I fit in. While every day confirmed to me that my husband, my daughter (at home) and my mother were the people who liked my presence the least, this friend needed me. I knew where I stood with him. We did not have the sort of relationship that betrayed my marriage, though honestly I was so desperate for someone to actually find me of value- it could have happened. I was like a person living so far outside of their actual life, numb to the realities of what happened and just getting through each day.

My life fell apart, and I am sad to say my counselor was very instrumental in everything. From the losing myself in the friendship, to the personally pushing distance between my husband and I. By the time a few months had passed, I was only listening to two people- the mental health professional I relied on, and the only person who seemed to think I was worth anything. I felt like I was daily dying to be loved.

It has been a really long two years. It is hard to believe that Chw and I were only physically separated for 6 months, it felt like years. Years of heartache, years of life experience and years of growth and healing within myself.

This July I chose paint colors for the walls of our new home. (it’s a rental, though long-term. I’ve learned the lesson of buying houses in Michigan. Two huge financial failures, and I’m secure in a lease, thank you very much.) I unpacked boxes and displayed family photos as though they were precious art. The reality struck me that the last time I put together a home, was that house, those two years ago. I both loved and hated that house. Seeing the new buyers change things is both bitter and sweet. While new homes should feel full of possibility, that home never really did. For two years I have wandered internally, wishing for balm to soothe aches and hurts, devastation and broken trusts. For two years I have felt stranded and abandoned. The last year of that had me finally sleeping in the same bed every night, though temporary. loss and turmoil were the interior design of choice then.

This time around there is simply home. My soul needed the roller on wall to reset the purpose behind such acts. The process, the newness, the fresh paint scented creation of some place good.

It has been one literal hell of a journey, but I finally feel home. Home is not walls and a roof, nor is it a destination. Home is simply a place of peace and rest, and a shelter for the growth life takes us through.

Shoeboxes…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay4 Comments

Several years ago, when we were sorting through our  attic stuff to move to Michigan, we came across the Orange shoebox. Just seeing the shoebox will cause us to give pause. Makaila, our beloved golden retriever and Genny’s childhood best friend, was diagnosed with bladder cancer. As her health deteriorated we, as a family, gave her the best week ever. The week was filled with her favorite things and foods. Our Idaho vet has a cool program where you can have your dog cremated and scattered at a local Christmas tree farm. It was beautiful and fitting. 

This shoebox has become this heavy thing which we carry through life, but cannot part with, nor would we want to. This shoebox seemed like such a solitary life weight, until last August anyway. After five years alone, we had to add another shoebox. My beautiful dog Paisley hid her cancer so well that when we realized she was sick, she had such a short amount of time left. We did not have the time to afford her best week so we settled for a really awesome best day. Both of our girls had loved peanut butter pancakes, soft serve vanilla ice cream and car rides, so we said tear-filled-smiling adventures with those.

The loss of Paisley hit me so hard and I was left with a gaping hole. Seven months later I stumbled upon a listing for a litter of puppies in southern Illinois. I’d wanted a beagle for as long as I could remember. I knew that, as I approached this new chapter of life, the companionship of a dog would really make the difference.

I fell in love with the last of these little puppies. He, my Mr. Knightley, was instantly smitten with me. He loved me almost immediately and though he wasn’t quite Paisley shaped, he was Knightley shaped and come to find out- I needed that hole filled too. It was early on that we learned his beginnings had been less than ideal. He was so young and required a lot of attention and love. The first five-week that he was mine found me with very little sleep. Most nights he snuggled into my neck and chest while I just held him tight and soaked his puppy goodness into my soul. It seemed as though my little snuggle puppy could not get close enough, and I was all too happy to comply.

As time passed it become clear that our Mr. Knightley- my Mr. Knightley– was going to have a bit of a tough time. About 5 weeks ago he had a traumatic experience with growing pains in his back left leg. The ordeal left both Gen and I pretty severely bitten and him very shaken up. We forged through it though, and fell even more in love with him. About two weeks ago it seemed the growing pains were at it again. He received a soft diagnosis of Panosteitis and an appointment to follow-up was scheduled for two this past Tuesday. We were encouraged to keep his movement limited, and just love on him and as comfortable as we could.

Tuesday did not go well. A full blood panel was done and Wednesday  morning found me sobbing on the phone, with the results. His kidneys were not working. His other organs were compromised. The kidney thing wasn’t new, they’d likely always been damaged. We were encouraged to not let any time pass, as he was suffering immensely.

My adorable little blue-tick beagle Knightley, with the black heart on his left side, did not get the luxury of a best-week-ever, or even a best day. He got to lay on my chest, breathing turned shallow over night, content to just be with me. We were at a loss with how to love him in special ways as he wasn’t eating and we’d only had three months with him, and many days within those months had been struggles. We weren’t sure what his best things ever would even be, except one… The boy loved his puppacinos. For eleven minutes of that forever-long car ride, that sweet little puppy was beside himself with joy.

His heart and body gave out as they injected the sedative, prior to euthanization. One moment he whimpered, staring into my love filled eyes, and the next he was running free and playing somewhere far more heavenly. This afternoon I gathered his tiny collar and his favorite chew toys into a shoebox. Another shoebox, another hole. An empty home and painfully empty arms. For three months and seven days I was deeply connected to this sweet little baby boy, and now I am not.

Goodbye sweet boy. 

 

Consider it an invitation…

Published on by Mae @ RainydayinmayLeave a comment

I love Jesus.

I am pretty ok with that, and I hope that you are too. If you aren’t, just know I am ok with that too. My loving Jesus isn’t about you at all, it is about me. It’s about my heart, my life, my choices, my journey, and a lot of other large and small things which add up to equal my faith.

I cautiously consider myself a Christian. I say cautiously because, honestly, at least in America (and some perceptions of American Christianity) the name has gained a bit of a rough reputation.

My pastor spent Sunday morning talking about Detroit. This looked a little like a history lesson. It involved political bits, heart bits, hard truths and a bunch of other uncomfortable and completely relevant things which together equalled a pretty amazing talk. He challenged us to be honest with ourselves about the walls we build. Initially the topic came up because Detroit was once known to have a dividing wall. I guess pieces of this wall still exist. This wall was raised to literally divide the African-Americans and the Whites. Though the wall isn’t technically much of a thing anymore, Detroit is still ranked as the most segregated city in America. I live in the metro part of this amazing city and I have to say this announcement shocked me. Our church alone, (granted, it’s a pretty huge church) likely has multiple people from most nations, in attendance. Our neighborhood actually has a dozen flag poles sporting flags from 12 different nations because we are such a diverse little community. Then again, this is the metro area, and not Detroit itself.

He illustrated his point by having several people from different countries approach the front of the church. They looked at each other, chatted some, laughed a little and then affirmed “there are no more walls between us.” I’ll admit it- it was emotional and I totally teared up. After this, he had fans of rivaling college teams do the same thing. It was funny and laughs were had, but when he sobered and asked us what walls we put up, I was challenged. I am pretty accepting. I don’t shy away from anyone really. I love meeting people and things that are different don’t scare me. Since that service, I’ve thought a lot about this. There are off-putting things, about me, which likely cause others to put up a wall between us. Despite losing 130 lbs, I am still overweight. I have a lazy eye. I was separated from my husband for 6 months (an issue that many fellow Christians we know can’t seem to get past.) in fact, here is a list of things which have caused people I’ve known to distance themselves from me…

I voted for Hillary.

I have a diverse taste of music.

I don’t support people who discriminate against ANYONE and using their religion as an excuse.

I worked as a film critic for years.

I drink.

As a photographer I have done many boudoir sessions.

I am an adoptive parent.

I struggled with infertility.

I am pro-choice and hate abortion.

I was sexually abused.

I hate porn and believe it decomposes a person’s ability to have healthy self image/relationships/etc.

I am a feminist.

I believe in marriage.

I support equality.

I do not believe men and women are equal. I am different from my husband and my brother. I am not better, but different. I don’t want to be like them.

I do believe men and women should have equal rights, DO HAVE equal worth and value.

I love Jesus.

I will never “shove Jesus down your throat” or preach at you.

I am a person and so each of these things make up a piece of my story… Each of these things has a story and reason for it’s position in my life.

I will not bother/hurt/offend me if your stories are different and your beliefs do not match mine.

 

If you know me, you know that I am a party planner. Best of all are dinner parties. LOVE THEM. Upon moving back to Michigan in 2013, my party opportunities are limited, and this makes me a little sad. After that sermon though, I got to imagining a dinner party. What if we had a lovely homosexual couple over for dinner. What if, in addition to them, we had an African-American couple, a middle eastern couple and a few other diverse additions? Other than the likely fact that we would have some really interesting and unpredictable conversation, what would we have?

A dinner party.

That is literally it. It would not be an experiment. It would not be a meeting. It would not be anything other than a group of people getting together to share a meal and converse. Obviously we would all have SOMETHING in common, or the dinner party wouldn’t exist in the first place. (hence the interesting and unpredictable conversation)

I really wish this dinner party were happening. Do you know why? Because I am seriously lonely and want to host a lovely little dinner party. (That’s the only reason actually. Maybe you should come for dinner…)

When it comes to a different race, or a different class, or a different religion, I am unruffled. None of these things will hinder me from approaching someone, or befriending them, or responding to them if they approach me. The one thing that may honestly hinder me is the fact that I am a total introvert and often have much better intentions than follow through, and I get a little insecure. While I want to approach someone, those things I first mentioned (overweight, lazy eye, etc.) become the wall I throw up to save my ass from someone else’s rejection.

Recently I had the opportunity to get to know a small group of women. One of the women I shallowly pegged immediately as a little stuck up and clearly she had it all together. She was thin and honestly, gorgeous. As time progressed though, it became surprisingly obvious that this beautiful woman and I had far more in common that anyone else in the group. Ironically the fat girl with the lazy eye and the drop dead gorgeous and in shape woman became friends. Is that how she saw me? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I threw up a wall with my initial assessment, and what I assumed would be hers… Thankfully that wall became a gate and now it is gone completely. My point is, when pastor Bob challenged us to find our walls and why we build them, this friend instantly popped in my head. I could have missed out on so much because I jumped to conclusions. I don’t do that as a habit, but I don’t want to do it ever. I want to be better, with others and with myself.

I want to have dinner party after dinner party where my table is filled with people who contribute to great conversation, people who enjoy food and maybe an occasional game or glass of wine. Beyond that, while I don’t want to be blind to their differences, I do want to understand and appreciate them for the unique people they are. (whoever they will be)

 

 

Published on by Mae @ RainydayinmayLeave a comment

This is the view of my imagination, this Monday morning, which isn’t a terrible thing.

Yesterday was my beautiful little sisters birthday, and this made me homesick. I had a lovely talk with her on the phone, and concluded that quiet Sunday afternoons are made better by long distance phone calls and iced tea. (Regarding this iced tea, I guess this is mostly applicable when it is pretty summer-hot, which is has been.) I packed a teeny-tiny amount after our phone call. Knightley is still not feeling himself and so I opted our of an afternoon out with Chw & Gen. Instead I comforted my sweet heartbreaker of a puppy, (iow: Prayed, pet, used essential oils, cried, etc.) and finished up season 5 of Orange.

Perhaps I should admit that Sunday held a bit of a heartbreaking element to it. Between my story’s emotional scenes and my poor Mr. Knightley, I was a mess of tears and sadness. (My grandma always called All My Children her story. It was so comically cute but I love it and now that I am forty-one, and a grandmother, I am thinking of adopting the saying.)

Monday morning has approached me in a much better place than last Monday found me. Hallelujah! Our apartment is well on its way to being packed, I’ve had good doses of Vitamin D this weekend and today is my double star day at Starbucks! All in all, things are feeling a bit chipper. My to-do list for last week was mostly accomplished, (I.E: I rocked it and am a total badass) and this week’s list is already moving closer to being a succession of crossed out and checked off items. Do I wish I was sitting on that beach imaged above? Sure I do. If I play my cards right I can at least spend a few hours, this week, writing from my favorite coffee shop. Not today though. Today is for errands, a double dose of packing and a wee bit of a craft project with Gen. Oh yeah, and waxing… Today we are waxing our beautiful faces.

hoping that, as the day progresses, some normal bits of my sweet Knightley begin to emerge. It’s only been a week since he’s been down with this strange little illness, but I’m really missing the fella.

Also, I totally have a novel I need to finish reading, so my summer reading won’t be a complete bust.

That beach would be absolutely perfect for that too…