Peaceful Easy Feeling

Just checking in, I am 12 hours north of Calgary in Prince Gorge BC spending Christmas with my husbands family. It is the first time in 30 years I am without my children. It's harder than I thought but we will be together for New Years. w's family are incredible, they have been so amazing! It truly is the great white north up here, pics to follow. Today, a moose sauntered through the yard, spent about 2 hours making his way across the acreage, it felt like I was in w's idea of heaven. The way the snow falls here is different than anywhere else I have been, I can see why they live here, it's stunningly beautiful.
My kids are well taken care of, spending time with loved ones, I am so grateful for that. Well, gotta go but hey, Merry Christmas all!

Bitterness, no just angry!

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire, it burns it all clean.
~ Maya Angelou

2012 has been a hard year. I hadn't expected that when it started, it did however prove to be a bit of a struggle and I will say, I am grateful it is coming to an end.

I was going over the blog posts from the last year, reminiscing of the bipolar nature of some of the entries. Saw some growth and saw more importantly the weak areas. Having that ability to look back through your words is so enriching. I have been journaling for as long as I can remember, it has saved me a few times.

So, as in all the other posts;

What am I on about?

On Sunday, W, D and I were sitting in the family room watching movies, laughing and enjoying the end of the weekend. The puppies ears perked and then became restless. They danced around and made some noise and we shushed them. They settled soon after and we thought nothing more of it.

In the morning, as we were leaving for work, there sticking out of the mailbox was an envelope. I knew as soon as I saw it what is was and this sense of frustration welled up inside me. Really? Really? Wow. I had heard in June we had been placed on the "no Contact" list some time ago by our old bishop. All those months I had thought people had just dropped us and then I found out it was an organized shunning.

You see, the last time I had spoken to the bishop my words were that if we were to get home teachers again, could he at least make it a pair that would come. I guess in bishop speak that means stay away, at least in his mind anyway. For months I had felt so abandoned. In reality it had been an organized exclusion. All of a sudden, it seemed to all make sense and I got angry.

But the anger turned to bitterness and I got lost in it and then all the little things that I used to be able to let go seemed to be piling up again. I was snowballing into the dance and I knew that it was a dance I was really no good at. I realized it was time to get the hell off the dance floor.

Reading the letter reminded me of the dance.

It also came at an inopportune time.

I am in a bind with raising boo. He has a nearly $10,000.00 dental/orthodontic bill and for the first time since doing this alone I am seeing debt that seems insurmountable. It'd be lovely if this was all cosmetic but boo has some real overbite issues and the work has to be done, we knew this when he was 13, we knew it was coming I just didn't expect to being doing it alone.

Boo has made every offer in the book, to forgo Christmas, quit school for a semester, sell his car. W has even offered to pay and struggle with me. I just can't ask that of him, D is not his kid. And D has done far too much. given up so much already to lose anything more than he already has.

So I did something I thought I'd never do again. I decided to ask M for help.

I asked boo what he thought, through the conversation, as hard as it was, I knew he had to be every part of this journey. He has given up so much and worked so hard to keep the things in his life he truly loves. I wrote the first letter and D gave his 2c worth. It was sent.

It was ignored. I could have been bitter but I can't afford to be.

Last night D and I tried again. We sat and Boo talked and I listened. The letter was written quickly and sent and then this flood gate opened and it wasn't the one you would think.

D talked about G and about his life and about what it meant to be broken. As I heard him talk about his pain and his loss and the sacrifices we will need to make in order for him to have a pain free life I realized I get to be angry, I get to be pissed about a man that doesn't understand what he has done by ignoring the letters. Oh maybe he does know, maybe it's about getting even.

I wonder sometimes how we balance the bitterness and the anger, especially at this time of year.

I'll find a way to make this work with Boo. Years from now we'll laugh about it in the same sick way we laugh now about some of the most horrible things that happened years ago. It is a twisted way of coping and when we laugh it means in a very real the anger is subdued and the bitterness wasting away.

The bonus of this whole mess, hearing my son talk about falling in love and being in a relationship of shared values and mutual respect. Of where he thinks it might be going and what she means to him. You see, that kind of night, makes this journey so worth it.

Yeah, it's going to be hard and yeah, it's a bit frustrating to have a man that you shared over 20 years together be such an asshole that he can't even answer a letter but what I have now reminds me that being bitter is just not the answer. Just get mad, vent and then let it go.

Letting go as I type.

And there were tears.....

“Weeping is not the same thing as crying, It takes your whole body to weep, and when it`s over, you feel like you don`t have any bones left to hold you up.” ― Sarah Ockler, Twenty Boy Summer

Wow, what a week. It seems that when you feel the most secure, somehow, the proverbial rug knows it and it just comes out right from under you. When that happens, W whisks me to my happy place and zen is soon upon me.

Where do I begin, well, lets talk pants.

My only real contact left with the Mormon Church comes from membership to a few Facebook groups. One being the FMH or feminist Mormon housewives. Love those girls. They are unafraid of their own commitment to change. A blog was posted about a thought. Wear pants to church in support of gender equality in the Mormon faith. Another member put it into action and before you knew it all hell broke lose.

I joined knowing full well that I wouldn't be showing up to church in pants. For obvious reasons, me at church in pants wouldn't be about the pants but that I was even at church at all. The point would then be missed but I wanted to be a part of it in the way I could; a support number, one of the over 2000 that saw this as possible.

Well, when you join a group what happens is you get the updates and by 10am on Wednesday my iphone was creating a nuisance, bang, bang, bang. WTH! I opened FB to find one of the most obnoxious occurrences on FB I had ever seen.

Death threats, seriously? Over wearing pants to church. Penis implants. Really? Is a woman donning a pair of pants at church that threatening? Really? By Thursday at 1pm FB had to actually pull the site down. WOW, can we say Mormons behaving badly?

Private inboxes were filled with hate, women were berating each other and what was once a thought now appeared to be a full on war to get those snarly FMH'ers back into their kitchens preferably barefoot and preggers. 

I have to say I wasn't surprised, those of us who have been on the receiving end of Mormons behaving badly know just how capable people can be at dispelling hate in the name of their righteous indignation.

I actually wept for those young woman who honestly set out for a dialogue and ended up being crushed with hate. They held their own but it was a battle that wounded many. It may have even changed some long held thoughts that change can come from within? I hope not though.

No sooner had the dust settled from the first round when news of the Newton massacre was leaking out and somehow, pants seemed trivial. 

Hate is hate. It can be dispelled in words, in written attacks and even with a gun. The levels that one reach is most often associated to mental health. I am thinking the BYU student who wrote on the pants wall that all those women wearing pants to church needed to be lined up and shot in the head may possibly be rethinking his words in light of Friday's happenings.

I doubt we will ever know what brought a 20 years old young man to ever walk into a room full of young children and aim let alone shoot an automatic weapon killing almost all of them. There is a part of me that hopes I will never understand why because somehow understanding that is inconceivable to me. Understanding it means I understand that kind of evil and I just don't want to go there.

Same with all the hate that was dispelled to those beautiful women at FMH. I will never understand that, ever!

So today, as I open the FMH FB group and see picture after picture of women and children and husbands and sons in purple and pant suits I wonder if because of all that happened this week they were all saying so much more than anything a simple pair of pants could have said. It was more than just gender equality, it was about standing up for it all, for everyone.

Love those girls, just love em!