April 12 … Hope and Faith

NewSpring Church.  Since attending my first service there almost a year ago I have accepted Christ, become a member, and have become involved in the church through volunteering my time to help various programs within the church.  I wouldn’t say it has been detrimental, but it has put more stress in the logic problem that is my life.  You know the logic problem where there is a farmer on an island that has a dog, a chicken, and a bag of seed with him and the only way to get home is in a boat that only 2 object can fit in at a time and the dog and the chicken can’t be alone together, the chicken and the seeds can’t be alone together, the dog can’t be alone by itself, and the farmer is the only one that can row the boat… how do you get them all off the island alive and intact?  Lots of times I feel the same way: Kristin and I have to get child A to activity A and child B to Activity B at the same time, as well as child C needs to get to activity C 30 minutes later, how do we get to all activities with our sanity intact?  Now throw into the equation that some weeks either Kristin or I are at church 4 or more days a week, so one of us has to do all activities with the all the children.  We have had to get help from friends and family a lot, but we feel like we are working towards a larger, more important goal.  We feel we are helping our children build stronger foundations by letting them see we are involved in the church and believe in it.  The children have actually started asking if they can go more often than just Sundays. Although Nathan is almost old enough for FUSE (the teens and tweens), Kathryn and Emma have a little ways to go.

All of my time going to NewSpring I have enjoyed the attitude, message, and really the atmosphere as well (even though I don’t like crowds I like people watching… oxymoron?).  I have invited several co-workers, friends, and family members and I’ve always gotten the usual, “let me check my schedule…” or, “I can’t this week, ask me again later” but the ‘later’ never seems to be available or sometimes even to come up again.  Well, my brother finally took me up on my offer; he and his wife brought their children for the Easter service.  Since it was their first time, and expecting a large crowd, I recommended they get there an hour early so we can get their children entered into the system, checked in, and off to their appropriate rooms and still have time to give them a quick tour before heading off for the service.  Kristin is volunteering this service, but she was almost giddy they made it to church with us and basically pushes them around the children’s building, introducing them to half a dozen people. A lot like me on my first visit they kept looking around the facility and, I wouldn’t say gawking, but were interested, or impressed by several things, and kept running into people they knew.  The doors were opened by the time we got back to the atrium so we headed on in; I let them choose the seats as I wanted them to feel the most comfortable as possible.  Again, NewSpring isn’t the typical church environment: bright lights, loud music, rock music at that, jeans and tee-shirts, no program telling you which song to turn to in the hymnal, no hymnal.  When the service started Ben and Destiny were a bit put off by the music.  Well, not put off exactly, more like confused as it’s not a choir singing traditional hymns.  We take our seats and more bright lights and loud music is thrown at them.  Deathly afraid they hated their first exposure to NewSpring, the first 5-10 minutes I kept asking Ben if he’s alright.

Perry came out and started the sermon.  I noticed that both Ben and Destiny laughed when they were suppose to and seemed to be taking it all in, not wanting to break the spell I tried my best to not look at them, or even touch them if I could help it.  It wasn’t until near the end of the sermon that I finally realized that something Perry said had hit home with them and they really, really got the message.  I dared a glance over and saw their hands clasped.  Not the polite, “let me hold your hand to be proper” kind, but a white knuckled, “I need you” kind of clasping.  I also realized (once again) that I’m a lot stronger when I have my Kristin near me.  A few moments later I saw Destiny put her head on Ben’s shoulder, her back shaking a little with a few sobs, and Ben put his head on top of hers.

The band started playing their last song and, even though no one was asked, the whole congregation was standing before the end of it.  Again, Ben and Destiny were holding each other.  After the song was over Perry came out and gave an altar call.  I’m happy to say that Destiny was one of the first to try to make it to the altar.  Unfortunately we were sitting in a row that has a false aisle, Destiny had to back track a little and walk down an entire row before making it to the front.  Ben was at her heels walking down the aisle as well.  People around where we were seated were clapping, everyone except me.  I was about to burst out my skin I was so happy, but all I could do physically was tear up.  Eventually I got it together and started clapping like everyone else for all the others.  Perry had to restart the invitational several times as more and more people started walking the aisles.  Finally, the invitational was given, prayers asked for and received, and the rest of the congregation dismissed.  I know it was an emotional roller coaster when I finally accepted Jesus, I know my head was swimming and I was exploding with joy that I finally found a path to walk down; I just didn’t realize I would feel the same way when my brother took the same path.

October 5 … Weekend Immersion

Friday was Kathryn (as she is now called) and Emma’s birthday. We have friends and family come over and there is much rejoicing. Boys separate from their sisters, girls run on to play with dresses and barbies, and adults stand around and talk about whatever strikes our fancies and invite more people in when they get here. About a dozen children are in the house and at least as many adults. The presents are opened and all the girls now have new toys to play with and dress up and talk through and whatever else they got that does things. The parents start to leave so the children follow. Well, all except one who asked if she could spend the night.

Started off Saturday at 6am with getting everyone ready to go to a little league football game a friend was playing in. Remember the friend the girls has spend the night, it was a… delight to be woken up by a strange girl’s head at eye level asking, “Mr. Michael, can we have big oatmeal?” Sure. The game was fun, although a little disappointing as our team didn’t win. There was BBQ at the game (don’t get the sauce under your nails, stays there forever) so everyone got a little something to eat. When everything was over at noon we went back home and I rested up (wasn’t feeling well from the game for some reason). Kristin went shopping for some food items that we were going to use for tailgating the baptism. She comes back home around 2:00 after dropping the canopy we are using off at the church with some friends. Let me stop here to remind you that the tailgating doesn’t officially start until 3:00. She gets home and hurries me into the car along with the 3 or 4 children that are milling around the house saying that there are hardly any parking spots left. So I jump in the car with my change of clothes and we are off. We get there and some friends have held a spot for us near our canopy, we park and we party for a little bit. There are RV’s and football games going on and a helicopter flying around and grills blowing up plumes of smoke. We eat some random food stuffs that everyone brought. Various friends and family members meander by. At 3:30 I go to register to let NewSpring know I’m there and get a Tee-shirt to wear in the water. The line wraps around the inside of the building, it’s crazy long and I cannot see the beginning or the end. I get through the line, get my shirt, and go back to the canopy for a little bit. At about 4:30 I go back to the church so they can talk to all the dunkee’s a little bit before we actually get in the water, just to let us know whats going to happen. At 5 they do a quick little service, a prayer, and then start dunking people. There were 3 pools and 2 pastors in each pool, so 6 people could get dunked at a time. My home group wanted me to cannon ball – something zany… I just walked through it instead (helped a lady up the steps). I mean, there had to have been 10,000 people there hootin’ and hollerin’, I’m not use to that kind of public appearance. The church ran some quick numbers and for Anderson and Greenville campuses combined, there were 602 people baptized with NewSpring on Saturday. That, according to them, was the largest baptism in SC history. It was close to 6-something by the time they were done dunking everyone. After the baptism I changed shirts and played at the canopy some more. Some of the kids at the tent started getting irritated so we retired back to my house. We lazed around the house for the next couple of hours laughing and joking and watched a couple football games and ate some more. Kristin and I ended up letting 4 kids spend the night with us. The girls went to sleep around 11:30, the boys stayed up and played Nintendo until around midnight, I was half conscious until around 1:00.

Sunday we all get up at 6:00 again. I cook breakfast for 7 kids, 3 dogs, and 2 adults and a partridge in a pear tree. Since neither Kristin nor I have a vehicle large enough to hold 7 kids, I help her take them all to church (where we know their parents will be in the morning) so she can volunteer at the morning service, and then I go back home to clean up a little. I go back to church for the 11:15 service and then slide out of there with 2 boys in my car around 1:15 (luckily one was mine). Everyone congregates at my house again and we start the festivities all over again since it is now my birthday. We watch football games, have more food, play on computer, eat some food, open presents, eat food, watch a movie and… eat some more food. At one point I kind of hide and take a quick 5 minute nap. It didn’t work as people started looking for me soon after I snuck in the bed room. Everyone kind of dissipates and we are finally left with an empty house at about 6:00 seeming like it’s really 11:00. Soon after we tuck everyone in their beds and Kristin and I crash around 9:00. I actually fell asleep in front of the TV. Some reason I thought I would watch a few minutes of something and then mosey on to bed, little did I know that I couldn’t stay awake that long.

All in all it was a wild and eventful weekend filled with family and friends at every point in time. The times I did have to myself were for sleeping and even then I wasn’t alone. This kind of weekend wears a person out, but it is fun to have. We are currently out of “big oatmeal” so we will have to stock up for the next marathon weekend of sleepovers and games and food and parties.

Sept 07 … Innocence lost, innocence gained

Driving down the road, a hand stuck out the window feeling the wind rush past.  A dusting of hair across the fingers picking up and whipping then across in seemingly random patterns.  The wind rushing up an arm, through the shirt, and across the shoulders to ever so slightly tickle.  Rotating the hand so the palm catches the wind and slings the hand back, then turning again so the blade can sluice through it’s invisible river to get back to the front.  Eyes watering from the wind in them, but squinting trying to catch every possible glance at the movement of the hand, desperately trying to figure out the next movement to perform.  All at once the hand is a rocket ship, a pirate’s vessel, or a bird.  Hair getting blown around, messed up so that tendrils are sticking in all directions, and not a care in the world about it.  I glance over and Nathan is smiling, lips slightly moving as he talks to himself dreaming up which ever story goes along with what his hand is acting as.  Looking in my side mirror I see which ever girl has managed to sit behind me, after the latest round of seating arrangement wrestling, doing the same with her hand.  The girl in the middle is bopping her feet to the tune of some inaudible song, tilting her head from side to side, dreaming up what to play when she gets home.

How innocent these children are.  Not a care in the world and as happy as can be.  Questions and comments brimming yet content enough to keep quiet at the moment.  Makes one sad to have grown up already and to have lost their innocence, lost the naivety, lost the ability to feign ignorance on subjects and matters that are downright awful.  I know I can never shield them from everything, but I want to hold on and try as hard as I can to protect them, or at least prepare them for whatever may happen in the future and console the from what injustices they perceive they have experienced.

The children are already more experianced than when this happened as it took place several weeks ago.  Over the last couple days I have fallen back to this moment when the wind was whipping through the car, not a word was being said (for once) and everyone content, sated, just enjoying the moment.  As my little brother would say, taking the long way home.  The sun coming out from behind some clouds, roads slightly damp from a far too infrequent rain, and freedom.

July 15 … Issac

Issac Loki Barnes, at least that is my name for him.  We never could decide if he was Issac Asimov, Issac Newton, or Issac Hayes.  I called him Loki because that is the Norse god of mischief, Issac was good at mischief.

Well, another late night, two in a row kinda wear on ya.  I stayed up late playing some silly game, trying to help out one child’s character get to the next level.  I crashed about 11:30 on the couch.  I had just painted the master bathroom and the fumes were keeping Kristin awake, so she took a walk at about 1:30 – 2:00 this morning.  Coming back from the walk she happens to glance in the ditch next to our driveway and sees Issac, he’s not moving.  Best I can figure is that he was hit by a car and had some internal bleeding, made it back to the house as best he could, and passed away sometime around midnight.

It was his own dunder-headed fault, he was too smart for his own good.  He was able to figure a way out of every pen we put him in and he would just run around the neighborhood.  He even taught Sadie how to get out of the pens (I think Griffin would too but he’s too barrel chested).  He was always there for us and loved to sit on our feet while we used the toilet, like a big cat.  He had so much hair on his back that it looked like he had a faux-hawk, after we had him shaved he looked like a skinny lab except for the beard.  When he ran he looked like a goofy bunny, kind of hopping and bounding around, always had his tongue lolling to one side or the other and his ears flying back.  He didn’t care though, he was running and free.  He loved the children, would take turns sleeping on their beds if one of the other dogs weren’t already there.  Always wanted to lick faces and hug bodies, annoying children because he didn’t know how to handle his big paws and claws. Even though he was the newest addition to our family he had already fought for his place and knew where it was.  Sadie (the doggie matriarch) was the most upset at his arrival because she felt like she had to rule and he was a threat to her dominance.  After about a week of snarling they were best of friends romping and playing in the yard.

While I was trying to figure out what to do Sadie was there sniffing around, looking curiously at where Issac lay.  I had the bright idea that I would bury him behind the house, but at 3am I quickly figured out that it was more of a chore then working in a tilled garden or pushing mulch around.  To keep wild animals from the body I move him to the fenced area that is away from the house, this way the children won’t wake up and see him either.  When the Vet’s office opened at 7:30 we call and find out about cremation.  As I go out to move him to the car I see both dogs (now out of the fence) sniffing around where Issac was laying when Kristin found him, almost as if they are saying goodbye as well.  The Vet’s office was very understanding and helped as much as they could, offering as many condolences as possible.

When I get back from the Vet’s we wake the children and let them know whats going on.  Kristin tells Nathan alone and, with his understanding of mortality, gets a little upset and hugs mommy a little harder then usual.  I tell Emma by herself, slowly explaining, and she comprehends and hugs me for a little bit.  Nathan tells Kate, but we still explain what everything means, she comprehends what is going on.  Kate actually asked if she could help bury him.  We had to explain to all the children that we were not going to bury, we were going to cremate him.  Then we had to explain what cremation is.

It’s been a long, busy couple of days.

July 14 … smells?

After a long hot day we finally meander back home, situate the dogs, placate the children, and get everything and everyone in their appropriate place for the night. I think I pass out around 9:45 but one can never really be sure of what time they go to sleep. I think Kristin is still talking to me as I go, but I have no idea what it is about. I probably mumble something semi-coherent back to her as my lids close even further and I drift a little more.

11:45 I’m woken up by some rude shaking and maneuvering of covers. I collect my wits enough to realize that a child is talking to me about nightmares and is trying to chase them away snuggled up to me. Fine, whatever, I’m coasting back to sleep with my arm propped at an odd angle trying to make sure she doesn’t fall off the bed, but coasting none-the-less.

1:00 I’m woken by more jostling of the bed. This time there is a bit more urgency then the nightmare time so I’m paying a little more attention. Emma says something about not feeling good so I recommended going to the bathroom. Not but a few seconds later I hear the tale-tale signs of vomit hitting the floor and immediate crying. I hurry in to the bathroom to help anyway I can, nothing really I could do but get a bucket for any future spewing – lucky as ever, I just manage to get her the bucket. This bout passes, child cleaned up, new clothes on, floor cleaned up, bucket cleaned up, and everyone is back in bed. Kristin on one side, Emma in the middle, and I’m on the opposite side (I palindrome I…sorry, random thought).

Laying in bed next to Emma I notice she’s a bit warm (as expected with being sick) and there is some sweat beads on her forehead. Wiping them off I catch a whiff of her. God, she smells like her mother. When I nuzzle Kristin I get intoxicated with her smell, there is nothing else like it. I once tried to decipher it and suggested it was kind of like pancakes, bacon, and steak with a hint of some flowered fruity thing; but that isn’t even right, heck that doesn’t even make sense. Anyway, Emma, in her heated sickly state is just sending off waves and waves of smells, and I’m pressed against her breathing it all in. It really amazes me that this little thing WE MADE smells like her mother, and I don’t know why. Not exactly like her, but close enough that I could probably pick her out of a line-up if I was blind folded and not distracted by steak and/or bacon with some pancakes thrown in for good measure.

I can roll over in bed and smell Kristin or a child on a pillow, sometimes several hours after they have last even touched it.  Each of the children smell like their mother, but different too, and different from each other. Again, good for any line-up situations I may ever be in. Just the other day Nathan was being an annoying butt and I really just wanted to send him to his room to get him away from me. Then, he ran up to me, got right under my feet really, hugged me and basically shoved his head under my nose. The smell got me, every tense thought gone, I couldn’t send him to his room. It is like the children know they can incapacitate me with their smells (and since I have a boy some of his smells are rather rancid and really can incapacitate) and can use their sweaty little heads to get their way. Why is that? I mean, Nathan wasn’t any less annoying and I did end up sending him away later that night, but why did just catching a whiff of him prolong the process? Why does laying down with a sick child fascinate me? Why can I walk in a room and pick out Kristin from the children just by smelling, even when they are all lumped together on the couch? Why does it even matter at 3 am?

Kristin is snorting in her sleep (talking a little too), Emma is smacking her lips, Issac (the dog) is rolling on the floor chasing Bambi (another story, with sound effects). I’ve been up since the vomit incident checking emails and writing one or two to let my manager know the situation and that I probably won’t be in to work today. AC keeping ambient noise at bay by being just the tiniest bit louder than the crickets, and the cool calm darkness of night is starting to drag me down again.

June 26 … Ingression

Well, I’ve done it now. Don’t know how well anyone in the wide world really knows me, don’t really know how well anyone knows anyone actually, but I’ve gone and done it. For those who don’t know, I’ve been struggling with my faith, or beliefs if you will, for a long time. Really just about as long as I can remember. I mean, as a child I just took what I was told and ran with it, never questioning anything. Then, as a teenager not everything was right with me, not everything was as I thought it should be. So, I wondered, I questioned, I sat and thought and the answers I came up with on my own didn’t always make sense. As teenagers are prone to do, I felt alone, like no one understood me and I was the only one in the world who felt like this. Being the introverted person I am I didn’t feel comfortable talking to anyone about what was going on and I eventually gave up on the church. I mean, no one willingly came to me to tell me anything, I didn’t go out of my way to learn from someone else, my questions didn’t have answers that I considered satisfactory.  So, as with lots of other things, I just quit, gave up, stopped, I just was.  I categorized myself as Atheist and/or Agnostic not really knowing the difference and not really caring. I still went through the motions, but I figured they were meaningless. I mean, I didn’t have answers so what was the point of playing the religion game, huh? I actually made my own set of beliefs that, albeit similar to what I grew up with, had my own flair to it.

Off an on for at least 15 or 20 years the questions would come back. Why am I here? Who am I, really? What good does doing good to/for others do? What was the point of it all, really? Again, unsatisfactory answers would form in my mind and still being the introvert I wouldn’t talk to anyone. I never went through a dark period (people call that emo now, I think), but I did get moody and sort of rebellious in my own little ways. Nothing as bad as burning down a forest (even though I got blamed… another story) but I did have my bouts of anger pop up now and again. Even today I internalize everything and question it to death before responding outwardly. When I respond, just so I can say I wasn’t wrong, I speak softly and mumble the crap out of a lot of what I say. And if something is gnawing at me I’ll let it sit inside and let it get bigger and bigger. Very seldom do I blow up, but when I do it’s like Krakatoa.

Well, to humor my wife and to placate the children, we started going to a new church around March time frame. Those in my area know NewSpring, those not in the area I suppose you would know it as a mega-church. My first visit was, well, it was overwhelming. I mean, there must have been 500+ people there, the atrium was HUGE and there was rock music blaring out of some stereos loud enough to make my leg hair vibrate. What was going on? This wasn’t church, this was a rock concert, surely. I mean, church was stand up, sit down, crinkle some mint papers, rustle some paper, and then go to Ryans before the other churches got out. Also, 300+ people in a room with me, no sir, not my thing. I mean, I don’t like crowds or anything, even to the point of going to Wal-Mart at midnight or 2am just to stay away from people. Holiday shopping is a nightmare come true for me, well, that and if I was suffocating at the same time (sometimes I feel like I am suffocating in large crowds). Deep breaths, I can manage this.

We send the kids to their appropriate age groups so they can participate in whatever they do and we go into the chapel, I guess you would call it a chapel, it is the area of worship. It looked more like a large movie theater that was staged for a rock concert. My brother and his wife sit next to me, I suppose to make sure I don’t get up and run, and a friend of Kristin’s sits next to her. All in all, it was a fun service and the message was decent and everything was alright. I didn’t catch on fire when I walked in the door and no one shooed me away from anything, no one knew I wasn’t the typical beliver. Everyone just kind of let me do my own thing and left me alone, other then greeting me and making me feel welcome. Every time we came we were reminded that if we had questions we could always ask. No, not me, I’d already worked everything out after putting it through my own internal pepper grinder and I got my own answers, sort of, maybe, I think, kinda. And everyone was nice to us, they remembered us from previous visits, they smiled and opened doors, helped with a dropped shoe and listened to the children if they had something to say.  And the messages from the sermons agreed with me.  They sometimes called people out on bad behavior, sometimes built people up by reassuring them, sometimes just telling a story with a little interpretation.  NewSpring felt good, felt like a place I could go and be myself and not have to worry if I wore the right shoes with the right socks with the right pants and so on, not have to worry if I’m acting correctly, not have to worry.  At first I felt apprehension by the sheer magnitude of it, then relieved and comforted just by being there, and then just relieved and comfortable in general – even when I wasn’t at NewSpring.  Not that I don’t still have times of crowd suffocation, just that I don’t mind it as much.

In May Kristin signs us up for a membership class. Why not, I mean I’m just gonna be signing my name to a paper, one more club I’ll get a news letter from, whats the big deal? During the membership class they didn’t ask me for anything, they actually babysat the children and fed me a decent meal and tried to push 3 different desserts on me (I only ate 2 of them… and some of Kristin’s). I listened to what they had to say and then my own questions came back. Why was I here? What was my purpose? My own self made beliefs came to the forefront and I started cross-checking them against what they were telling me. Nothing they said disagreed with my own personal religion. At the end of the class we were asked to answer 3 questions. I wanted to be honest and, well, I just couldn’t do this just because everyone else around me was doing it too. Something in the month and a half of attending made me want something truthful and honest to be put down this time, not do it because the cool kids are doing it, not to do it because someone told me to do it, not to do it because it would annoy someone else. I wanted to do this and I wanted to do it right and I wanted to be honest with everyone around me.

So, lots of other people are answering their questions and going off and talking to consolers and getting pictures taken and I’m still sitting here thinking about how I should answer things. Three seemingly simple questions that when I put to my internal test made me not feel right. Not that I was wrong, just, well, I couldn’t just sign my name and go on because I wouldn’t have been honest with myself. I see one of the people who talked to the group at large and I go up to him (you can only go UP to someone who is closer to 7 feet tall then 5). I flat out ask if we can talk. What? Little ‘ole me talking to a stranger? What am I doing? This gentleman’s name is Jake and he takes me aside, sits me down, and asks whats going through my mind. I don’t know. I mean, I can’t answer 3 simple questions and he wants to know what is on my mind? I blabber something incoherent about wanting to be real and that I didn’t know the answers and he just smiles, says it’s alright we don’t have to have all the answers, and we just sit there and talk. He briefly tells me some of his story and I just nod my head and let him talk, taking it all in. He tells me he respects me for wanting to do it this way, truthfully, and not just sign up on a whim. Jake suggests that I read some since I’m still questioning whats going on and come back to him with any questions I may have. Sure, easy for him to say, but he doesn’t know I’ve had questions for a long time and if I can’t answer them then why should he be able to. Kristin and I go home that night and I can’t sleep. The questions keep popping up. I hop on the computer and write down whats going through my mind (us introverts would rather write a paper then talk to a group). Two hours later, at 4 in the morning, I finally hit send. Interestingly enough, Jake answers me a couple days later, and his answers are intelligent and actually make a bit of sense, imagine that.

Ok, enough commentary, what did I do? Well, last Sunday (6/22) I closed my eyes and asked no one in particular, “Am I ready for this?” I just felt all warm and gooey inside, so gooey in fact that it leaked out my eyes. What for, I mean, I was no different, I am still me right? Then I said to myself, “I’m ready, I’m ready for this, what ever will happen will happen, and I’m ready.” While I was saying this to myself everything just felt right, and I knew I really was ready. I pop off an email to Jake and he wants to talk, in person. Thursday (today) I go to see him and again, we just talk. At the end of us talking, again him explaining that I don’t have to have the answers, he asks if I’m ready to accept Jesus. In his office, with the children playing in the next office, my cellphone dieing in my pocket, toenails colored from painting the house, construction workers moving stuff around outside, Kristin at work, sunbeams filtering in through the window; I close my eyes and sit. I just sit and think. What am I doing, is this what I am ready for? Is this what I’ve told myself to believe? Are they coercing me to believe this or am I doing this because I want to? And then, again, to no one in particular, I simply say, “save me… just… save me Jesus.” I honestly and truthfully meant it. I must have been the 3 millionth customer or something because the ceiling opened up and balloons fell down with confetti, freaky clowns jumped out of boxes and started juggling, miniature horses started dancing for the children, it was bedlam… Seriously, it felt like that on the inside. It felt like it was right. It felt good. It felt like something was working, roiling, cogs were marching. I felt like laughing, so I did, and then I teared up for no particular reason and Jake reached over and we prayed.

So, there you have it folks. I’ve accepted Jesus and I’m moving on. I’m no different, I’m still me. I still have my own thoughts and feelings, I am still introverted and goofy. I’m not gonna bible-thump every time I talk to you and I don’t expect you to get all up in arms every time I walk in a room. I didn’t drink kool-aide and I’m not going to brow beat people who don’t agree with me. I’m going to live my little life to the fullest knowing what I know and accept the fact that there are things I don’t know or can’t explain. This was my ingression, my first steps, my entrance into this area. Next will be my immersion. The next time NewSpring has a baptism I hope to take part.

May 14 … old age

I sometimes wonder about what Kristin and I will look like in old age. Will we be the fat frumpy grandparents? Me with arthritic hands that when laid on a table the fingers point in different directions, large belly tucked into the elastic waistband of my khakis that slightly cover the black socks stuffed into some loafers? Kristin with the puffy cheeks with natural blush, bright glinting eyes, curlers in her silver hair? Or will we be the couple who find the health-gods in mid-life so we have some tone to us, yet by 80 our tone is lost to sagging muscles and slight pot bellies. Or perhaps we will be ravaged by sickness and we will be nothing but skin and bones with a slight yellowish pallor? I would like to think that we will be the fat frumpy kind. The kind that have to lean in to kiss each other good morning like some little Norwegian figurines. The kind that doesn’t mind cooking up a quick batch of cookies if children and grandchildren are going to come visit. The kind that children and grandchildren don’t mind coming to visit.

In any event, I see us as an old crinkly couple. I see us with crows feet in our eyes, silver thinning hair falling in our eyes, bright slightly watery eyes looking out from behind the hair, and wrinkles in our lips that no chapstick can fix. I can see us sitting under an afghan together, hands holding gnarled hands, and watching some silly crime-drama thats currently on TV. When that show is over, if we haven’t already fallen asleep, I imagine we will lay down in our bed and talk about whatever pops in our heads at the time. Or, if it is still light out, I imagine we will go out and work in the yard a bit making the greens greener and the weeds deader. Not to say we do much yard work now, nor will we be inclined to do so in the near future, but it seems like a good patient past time to have.

I also envision us being surrounded by lots of pets. Neighborhood pets that come to visit, children’s pets that no longer can be handled at home, our own collection of animals that have mysteriously grown over time. When Kristin and I first met she swore off dogs, said she’d never have one again, would only be a cat person. After 14 years of knowing me she is in love with dogs, my evil plan is working (insert diabolical laughter). Anyway, I see us being surrounded by lots of animals, some children, and hopefully some grandchildren. And when we die people will be able to look at us and say, “they were happy.”

Feb 6 … Music

Currently I have calming music on my headphones. Close my eyes, breathe – inhale and smell everything around me. Hours old coffee baked onto the warmer, spaghetti sauce from dinner, clothes detergent, slightly damp dog, grainy soggy cereal, hot water and steeping tea. Breathing deeper I can detect hints of shampoo and soap, bath bubbles, and body spray or perfume that Kristin uses before going to work. Breathe in, breathe in, breathe… It’s amazing how just the right music can pull the needed emotions at the right time. A long couple of days at work, health not 100 percent, and certain music can just remove varying layers of tension that I didn’t even know I had. Heart beats in time with the melody, crescendo and the air seems to envelope me… breathe in breathe in.

I’m constantly fascinated by the simple things. Being the last to arrive at a 4-way stop and watching all the other drivers turn at just the exact right moment … everything seems to flow. Touching hands, fingers ever so slightly tapping someone else’s palm, a little tingle of acknowledgment shivers up the spine. Trying to take a sip of a milkshake that has melted enough you think you can almost drink it, half of the ice cream falls on your face and ending up looking like a clown that forgot how to eat. Getting out of a warm bed to start getting ready for the day ahead, realizing it is not time to get up yet and getting back under still warm blankets like it is an extra treat.

Breathe…

Mind wandering it eventually lands back on Kristin. Would I do everything with her over again, a question that eventually come up in most long term relationships. Would I go through all the same almost imperceivable alienation from peers, would I suffer through arguments, would I have children with her again? I feel the answer has to be a resounding yes. I wouldn’t be who I am today without her in my life. She’s corrected me and strengthened me in ways she can’t even fathom, many of which I don’t even know myself. She asks me time and time again why I love her, why do I stay with her day after day, month after month, year after year; I love her because she’s there, I love her because she knows me, I love her because she is me and I am her. I can’t imagine anyone else to be with. Even though I’m not a big talker (anyone who knows me knows this) we can have conversations about almost anything. We stay up hours after both of us should have gone to sleep just to talk about our days at work, some new tidbit we learned, something silly the children did, anything. One night we stayed up for hours just to talk about VeggiTale (kids cartoon series) tunes, we even called a friend because we thought she might remember the words or tune to one song that we both had forgotten (said friend knows us and took it in stride). Kristin is …

Music fades, next song on the playlist comes up and all silly thoughts have vanished. A dog nose nudges my pins-and-needles foot to remind me to start moving soon, I’m taking up much desired real estate. I need to get ready for almost nightly rituals, chins must be tucked (not by me tonight, but I’m going to double tuck later anyway), and late night sugar needs to be checked tonight. Music can truly tame the beast.

Jan 26 … Milestones and Remembrances

I remember a long time ago, perhaps when I was 5 or so, my family took a trip to Disney World. Family members that are old enough will tell how I shot at the pirates with a cap rifle or how I danced with the bears in the cafe. There are really only 2 rides I remember, one is a submarine journey where we get to go on a make believe submarine and see various underwater sea creatures and get attacked by a giant squid. The other is ride was the slot cars. I know I know, not a major drawing point for Disney, but I remember it. I remember sitting in the car with a parent (I am sorry I don’t remember which one) and getting the chance to ‘drive.’ I remember being frustrated at first, I couldn’t coordinate the go peddle and the wheel at the same time and I kept running into the edge of the slot thereby halting progress. I think I finally just gave up and let the adult I was with take over so I could see the park through teary eyes, arms crossed in frustration. I ended up smiling because we got to ‘race’ my brother in his slot car, I also remember the parent hitting the edge of the slot on purpose. I knew I wasn’t suppose to know it was on purpose, but I smiled anyway and enjoyed the bumper car effect. I believe that both rides have since been torn down for progress and new rides that will attract more attention. Lots of times I feel like life is like a slot car track, I go to the same place day after day, hardly ever bumping the edge, always in line and going along the same route time and time again.

Today I did things a bit differently. I had a couple errands to run in town. On the way back I decide to take a slightly alternate route, a road I’ve not been on in over 10 years. One of the last times I was on this road I had been working 3rd shift, needless to say, I wasn’t sleeping regularly. I had to pickup my wife from high school and was running short on time to pick her up and not cause her to be even more of a social outcast then she already was (how many girls did you know of in high school that were married). I must have fallen asleep at the wheel because the next thing I knew I was in the ditch. Luckily I was in a 4-wheel drive and I was able to get out with a little manipulation, leaving a bit of my bumper in the in the mud. The construction workers that were building a house at the site I crashed into just sat on the roof and watched. I made it to school in time to pick her up, she asked about the mud (mumble mumble no comment), and we went home and I went to sleep.

The next road I had to traverse I hadn’t memorably been on in close to 10 years as well. This time I was trying to go home after getting back to town from an out of school trip. I was driving mom’s car and it was raining heavily. I had just gotten on the road, going down a straight away, when the car wouldn’t go any more. I pushed the gas and I could hear it revving up, but nothing happened. I had just enough momentum to pull over to the side and put my blinkers on. I wasn’t far from school so I walk back to use an instructor’s phone to call my girlfriend (mom was out of town for another couple hours). Let me remind you it was raining heavily. I get to school drenched and call my then girlfriend to tell her what happened then I walk back to the car to make sure it doesn’t get hit by anyone going down the road that doesn’t see the blinkers. About 15 soggy minutes later my girlfriend and her parents pull up, look at the car, call a towing company, and bustle me in their car to their house. I’ve been in her house before, so this wasn’t anything special, but since I was soaked through and through I was ordered to take a hot shower to prevent pneumonia. This was the first time I was naked in her house so I had a tingle of excitement run through me, mingled with a slight shiver. That shower was one of the best I’d ever had, but to remain modest since I was a guest I cut it short, hopped out and got dressed in borrowed clothes while mine were in the dryer. I hitched a ride to my house a little while later and we heard from the towing company the next day.

Funny how sometimes memory lane really is just a lazy old country lane.

Dec 29 … Night

Knees drawn to my chest, I sit in my favorite green swivel chair in the cold den, the one the dog and I constantly fight over. A blanket is covering my legs, arms hugging my bent knees, a warm mug of tea in my hands. The steam seems almost tangible, I try to circle a tendril with my finger to no avail. Kristin is laying on the couch with a blanket to her chin, mug of tea on the end table next to her, sudoku book next to that, and remote control deftly in her hands. One dog is at my feet on the tail of my blanket, the other dog is stretched along Kristin’s body like a 50 lbs pillow. The children have all gone to their beds with few arguments. We will soon put the dogs in their beds and rest our pretty heads as well. Good nights are abound, sanity reigns and fears allayed.

A subtle finger trace along her chin, following her cheek and finally catching a tendril of hair behind her ear. Kristin looks at me like I’m crazy, smiles, and then goes to turn off the TV. Even though the dogs know their place they jump on our bed showering it with more hair before being shooed away. A new day soon approaches and a new year will soon be on us shortly. Good night all.