Poor Little Rich White (Pressed but not Crushed) Mexican

Sugar Daddy’s, Roller Skates, Chili Dogs and Jesus. The legacy of my Grandmother

plrwm

August 26, 2020

Aren’t we all convinced that our Grandma’s are the cutest? My mom’s mom’s name is Mini….I mean…. it does not get much cuter than that. My Grandma Mini got to see her Jesus today and I am overwhelmed with wonder at the mystery of it all. So, here we are again….#BlogTherapy it is. (But seriously, I need to start writing about the good stuff again or else this will just be a place for me to process death!)

My Grandma Mini was a young grandma. She was only 40 when I was born. For perspective, that’s 5 years younger than I am NOW! (gulp)
My Grandma Mini was…(how do I put this delicately?) … not known as a great cook….just like me! (I know…you think I can cook. You are wrong. I can make cupcakes. Everything else is dumbed down and faked to the best of my abilities). She and I both claim chili dogs as our specialty dish. Her inability to cook was something she joked about and became one my earliest lessons in “being okay with yourself”…a lesson I wish I’d embraced much sooner.
My Grandma Mini’s primary life ministry was worship leading (as an alto)….just like me.
My Grandma Mini was addicted to Sugar Daddy’s…. (the candy, not the lifestyle). In her later years, I would sometimes sneak her one when my mom wasn’t looking.
My Grandma Mini broke her arm ROLLERSKATING DOWN A STEEP HILL…when I was 6 years old!!! Perspective: that puts her at one year OLDER THAN I AM NOW!’

Man! She was the COOLEST! No other kid my age had such an awesome story about their grandmother.

In her older years, she started to take on some of the more ‘regular’ grandma-ly characteristics. She told the same story over and over and over again…much to the chagrin of my younger brother.

“I’ll never forget when I walked into a room and saw little Peetee reading. He was only four years old. I said, ‘Wow! That’s really good. How did you learn to read like that?’ and you know what he said?….(wait for it) ‘Sarah taught me!’”
“

Poor Pete. If he heard that story once, he endured it 100+ times. (You’re welcome Pete).

My Grandma Mini had THE BEST “I love you.” I’m not sure I can put it into words, but I’d like to try. First, it must be noted that she never missed an opportunity to tell me that she loved me. But the way she said it was so special. She always said it through the biggest smile. (Go ahead…try it right now). It already sounds awesome, right?! Additionally, she would hang on to the “L” sound for just a hair longer than the rest of it. (smile: “I Llllove you”).

***Magical***

I can hear it in my head now. Lord, I pray it never fades. Her “I love you” had such a profound effect on me, it became the fuel for me making sure the kiddos in my life know I love them unconditionally.

In 2016 she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease and the stories began to fade. (Well, not the ‘Sarah taught Pete how to read’ story. That one was cemented in…I’m pretty sure it was one of the first things she told God upon arrival into heaven).

On January 26, 2018 I happened to be in Fresno for a board meeting and I stopped by to visit her at … well, I lovingly refer to it as “Senior Adult Preschool” but it was some sort of day program for the elderly. I didn’t know what to expect. She was deep into her memory loss. The workers (who knew I was coming) asked my grandma, “do you know who this is?”…..My grandma looked deep into my eyes. She paused. She squinted for recollection. She said, “you’re …my granddaughter.” (cue my tears).

Now…I also must mention, -and I would be remiss to exclude it here today, my Grandma Mini was a survivor of sexual abuse. As a very young adult, she was abused by an older man…a man who was her boss; who quite literally trapped her in his office one night to take advantage of her. That human abuse created life…my mom. I wrote the full story a few years back so I won’t go into it now (you can read about it here). My Grandma Mini, daughter of a Church Pastor in the 1950’s made the most sacrificial decision she could make. Abortion was an option, and some encouraged her to consider it. Instead, she chose life. So, I know without a doubt all those “I love you’s” really meant something; because back in the 50’s….-two decades before I was born, she loved me enough to choose me.

I will forever be so grateful she is my Grandma, and the great grandma of my kids.

“Let this be recorded for a generation to come, so that a people yet to be created may praise The Lord.”
Psalm 102:18 (ESV)

Happy Heavenly Birthday Grandma. Throw on those roller skates and show those streets of gold what’s up!

Her hair styles really tell a story all by themselves.

I’m pretty sure this is one of the last pictures of us.

#MaggieNO

plrwm

April 23, 2020

Two days ago I had a full meltdown. Like -full on ugly cry, yelling at God to “do SOMETHING!!”…I told my girlfriends afterwards that it was my annual cry over my marriage that failed 8 years ago…coupled with the reality that I’ve been jobless for a year….

99% of the time I manage living in my existence pretty well…then about once a year, I cry over J… it happens. I’m sure quarantine life isn’t helping the psyche either…. I don’t know…It was just lousy. So, believe me when I say, that what I am about to write now, is coming from a place of confusion and possibly anger.

I’m currently reeling from the devastating experiencing of witnessing my dog get hit by a car.

She was killed instantly.

My over-the-top adorable, frustratingly naughty dog was frolicking one minute and completely lifeless in the next…and it all happened right before my eyes. I’m in a bit of shock…though I’ve shed a million tears already.

The dogs got out. It’s my own fault. I didn’t double check that the gate had latched shut. I always check. I’d gone out to collect the mail and the latch was accidentally left open. The dogs wouldn’t have even realized it themselves, if that feral cat didn’t wander across my lawn, unaware that the dogs were out. My pups raced after the cat who leapt over the gate and in their frenzy to pursue, Maggie and Pearl just so happened to check the gateway….and sure enough it opened with little effort.

My new neighbor across the street offered to help but I knew they would run farther if they were chased so I casually started walking down the street to collect my dogs. I’ve done it dozens of times before….

But Maggie has always been a particularly reckless runner. She runs as if the world is her oyster and there is no such thing as danger. From the day we got her, she persisted on being the cutest, dumbest dog. The guy in the truck saw her…tried to slow down, tried to swerve but it was no use.

The whole thing was even more surreal as two women were walking towards me…they saw it too… they reacted loudly with shrieks and squeals of horror. I saw it but was dumbfounded in my reaction. My brain was trying to process what my eyes were witnessing. Did she get hit? Did the car run over her leg? I only had to take few more steps closer in the twilight hour to see that Maggie was not moving and notice that the blood puddle around her head was significant.

The person driving the truck was frozen. He didn’t dare move the car one way or the other for fear of making it worse. Me and the gals who were out for a walk arrived at the scene together. He asked if it was my dog. He apologized over and over…he didn’t even know her condition.

It was easy to assure him that I didn’t blame him. I saw the whole thing. I know my crazy dog. I saw him try to avoid her…

The next several minutes were very unglamorous and I don’t think I can stand to relay any of that information here. But now I’m home. Maggie is wrapped up in a towel and I’m reflecting back on all the ways my son stepped up to help. It was another one of those calls to manhood that seems unfair… but I could not manage any of it without him and I am so grateful that he was here AND at a stage of life where he could shoulder some of the burden in a meaningful way.

I’m crying again just thinking about how he ever-so-thoughtfully took our other dog out to see her pal…to sniff around…to try and understand what has happened and understand that Maggie isn’t coming back to play or to share their dog bed tonight. We’ve had Maggie for five years and they have almost never slept apart. They had two cages but from day one, they insisted on sleeping together.

Maggie was born 5 years ago this month. We are convinced that she thought her name was MaggieNO because we yelled that at her more than anything else…and she would just smile back, blissfully unaware that it was a problem to drag the bathroom trash through he hallway, or bring in that dead bird, or dead lizard… she thought it was some sort of victory when she singlehandedly brought the entire Christmas tree to come crashing down.

She loved to play fetch, and tug of war….She and I would growl and howl at each other every night (Daniel hated that)…She never…and I mean never left my side. If I moved from the living room where she was napping to make dinner, she woke up and came to the kitchen. If I went to take a shower, she would sit at the threshold of my bedroom until I came out. Every single day. Without fail.

I don’t think there’s a right way to grieve the death of a pet. Some people are really attached to their dogs. I never really saw my dogs as my furry children. They hold a ‘lesser’ position of sorts but the unending tears (and the need to journal through it) show that Maggie held a significant place in my freshly broken heart.

I’m so grateful I saw it happen, so I don’t have to wonder.

I’m so grateful that it was swift, so she didn’t suffer.

Financially it would have been difficult to spend money to repair her while I don’t have any income. I’m even grateful that I didn’t have to wrestle with what to do next.

But I have to be honest here.

I’m also pretty mad. I’m mad that this is -yet ANOTHER grand disappointment when it just seems unnecessary. Why now? She wasn’t sick…. She wasn’t hurting anyone. She was actually a crazy little bright spot in an otherwise lousy season of life…. Why does it feel like all the horrible things I don’t get to choose are all compounding when the previous issues have still not been resolved? Can I please close a chapter on some of these other things I already feel bad about before heaping on the next heartache? I’m not trying to avoid hardship…but this feel out of balance. . .

and I’m getting ticked.

There is a reckoning coming….It’s going to be between me and God….. He can handle my pitiful outrage…I’ll start strong but I’ll undoubtedly end up spouting something about it being “unfair”…even though I TRY so hard to never say that to God…. He’ll probably give me some sort of Job 38 and 39 smackdown…

The Bible often says to “be slow to anger” (Ecclesiastes 7:9) so I don’t feel guilty about being angry…and let’s be honest here; this has been bubbling for a year. Furthermore, there has been an 8 year simmer that has helped contribute to this boil….. I think it’s fair to say I was slow to anger.

“Be not quick in your spirit to become angry,
for anger lodges in the heart of fools.
Ecclesiastes 7:9

I can probably use some prayers. I neither want to overreact nor under react to the death of my MaggieMoo… I really really really want to be holy and not be foolish, but I also need to go ’round and ’round with someone…and I probably need to start with the last bit of ice cream in my freezer. At least that’s how they do it in the movies, right?

I’m sure I’ll keep you posted. But in the meantime….. please just be my friend in the way you feel called.

Smoking in the Waiting

plrwm

April 14, 2020

Anyone who follows me on social media knows my 17 year old son has recently picked up the “hobby” of smoking….. to be clear, I mean, smoking meats…You know, ribs, chicken, fish, roasts. He’s obsessed with wood chips and fire placement and temperature….it’s a sport to him. He’s becoming a real pro and my waistline is reaping the benefit. I don’t know how long this passion of his will last but this #ProudMomma intends to do her part in supporting her #TeenageSmoker.

I think it was around 2010 when my ex became friends with a guy who I will call Shawn. J and Shawn both joined The National Guard at the same time but since Shawn already had logged in years in the Army, he quickly volunteered to be deployed. In one of our final family gatherings before his deployment, Shawn brought his smoker to our house and cooked a feast for both of our families and told J, “I’m going to leave this here for you to practice on while I’m gone for the year.”

That smoker sat idle all year.

And then …another year.

Shawn had come back to The States, but he and his wife were having some marital issues, so we continued to hold on to his smoker.

Within the next year, our own marriage started crumbling. The smoker sat unused again.

(At some point during the next few years, our friend David smoked ribs for a 4^th of July party we hosted with a few families from our church).

The smoker sat, again, unused for many years.

When I put our house on the market, I called Shawn to let him know we were moving and if he wanted his smoker back, he should come get it. I don’t even know if I have a current number because when all was said and done, that smoker ended up moving to Riverside with us….having only been used one time in almost a decade.

I look at the smoker kind of like the toys in Pixar’s “Toy Story” … poor thing…just waiting to be ‘played with.’

It would take ten years for D to come of age and claim the smoker as his own. And boy, oh boy has he used it! It’s rusty and weather-beaten from ten years of sitting in the elements, but it must be so happy to finally be living out it’s purpose so gloriously.

I know…the smoker doesn’t have feelings…. just go with it. ?

A bunch of things had to happen for that smoker’s life to end up here and it’s got me thinking about waiting. I am in the longest season of waiting I’ve ever known. I’m 7+ years into praying and waiting for my Ex to find his way back to faith and family. I’m over a year into waiting for a new job…. and now together, we all are waiting for this COVID-19 Coronavirus business to pass so our regular lives can be restored to normalcy.

I told some friends just today, “I feel like I’m suspended in time, waiting for life to begin again.” But that isn’t wholly true. The smoker was suspended…. waiting for someone to help fulfill its purpose…. humanity, however, should never be passively waiting.

I was recently reading through the book of Habakkuk and it begins:

“How long, O Lord, will I call for help, and You will not hear?”
Habakkuk 1:1a

(Followed by a laundry list of injustice and hardship that was being endured by the people). But then God’s reply in verse 5 instantly changed my whole perspective.

“Look among the nations! Observe! Be astonished! Wonder! Because I am doing something in your days— You would not believe if you were told.”
Habakkuk 1:5

Guys! Doesn’t-that-sound-A-MA-ZING!?!?

Waiting can sometimes stir up sinful responses in me…bitterness, entitlement, grumbling …(to name a few) but I wonder if it’s that passive posture that brings out the spoiled brat in me. What would happen if I decided to Observe! To Wonder! …and to be astonished?!?! Can I then just be at peace, knowing God’s timing will usually mean some measure of waiting?

What if we all did that? What could active waiting looking like and how would it change us as individuals …. and consequently, the world?

Remember When…?

plrwm

February 28, 2020

• Goal to post once a week?…. Remember when I committed to write a post once a week? yeah… that fell off the rails in February…. (truthfully it was getting wobbly in January)…. pretty typical. I’m not giving up though. I BELIEVE God is going to do some cool stuff in 2020 and I need a place to share!

• Living without a microwave? – Remember when I decided to live without a microwave and you all were so generous and offered to buy one for us? That goal has been surprisingly easy….we are 100% fully adjusted and it doesn’t affect us hardly at all…

• The Christmas Envelope – remember that anonymous $100 gift I got in my Bonner bag? The one that said to “spend if you need it and to pay it forward if you don’t?”…(that whole question really messed with my head)…anyway….I paid it forward to a really awesome college kid at my church who has been struggling to raise funds for his International Mission Trip through CBU and the International Mission board. This guy is super special to me. He is actively participating in our Sunday night college group program – He almost never misses church – He serves on the worship team and his God-fearing, Hispanic family is not in a position to cover his cost to go. Man! This kid reminds me of my young self. I took that $100 and gave it to him. He was shocked and thrilled to get that clean, crisp bill. He shared that he was worried he wouldn’t raise the funds because at that point he was supposed to be 50% funded and was barely at 30%. I said… “you know…this money made quite a journey to get to you. I have no choice but to believe that this is meant to encourage you. God cares about you going and it’s pretty darn cool. Just lay down the worry and trust that He has this.” Aaron is now at 60%…. if you want to support him further, I’ll include the link here. I spent most of my young life counting on other people with the gift of generosity to help me have the life experiences I wouldn’t have otherwise had on my own. If you believe God has gifted you to be generous in situations like these…then here’s your chance ⇓.

⇒Click here to support my buddy Aaron! ⇐

• The Electric Bill….Remember when I didn’t get an electric bill for several months and was so worried that I’d end up with some ridiculous amount due? And remember when the technician came to replace my meter cuz “it wasn’t communicating?”…and remember how my next bill was totally normal – verging on a bit low? Yeah, well…. I find myself AGAIN in a situation where the electric provider is unable to provide an amount due…. isn’t that weird? I had asked the Lord to PLEASE not drop a massive bill on me until I had a real job…and then joked that technically we never shook on that agreement… maybe there is more to that than I knew?

Lord? Is a job coming?

Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, … So our eyes look to the LORD our God, Until He is gracious to us. ~Psalm 123:2

A Canned-Frosting Kind of Birthday

plrwm

February 13, 2020

I turned 45 today. I remember when 40 was barreling down. I was downright paranoid that it was going to break me. Even though I was two years into my new normal I was supremely worried that I would have a full-on meltdown at the “unfairness” of it all. Of course, it ended up being one of the best birthdays of my life.

I have not written through any of my birthdays since then. A testament to my general well-being every February 13^th for the subsequent 4 years.

I wasn’t talking about it too much but I was worried about today….a little….kind of….

These days continue to be reminders that my life has fallen short somewhere. It’s been 8 years since my last MAJOR life shift and just when I was getting used to my new normal, today popped up to remind me that life just isn’t measuring up….again…add “jobless” to the list of failures….and go ahead and toss in “nor-has-she-been-able-to-get-a-new-job-in-almost-a- year”… just for good measure. Lame

I’m not in the valley (I don’t think) but I’m nowhere NEAR the sweet spot either. And since I’ve been hovering around here for a while now, I’ve learned a few things….

#1 – You’ve got to be intentional, no matter how small. Don’t let life decide everything for you like some sort of victim.

Example: when I turned forty, I planned a super fun trip to Utah. Smartest thing I could do for myself.

This year…resources didn’t really allow for something on that scale so instead, when I went grocery shopping for the week, I bought myself two things: a can of corned beef hash and a can of rainbow chip frosting.

I know they sound gross together! Don’t judge me! But I thought…

I will make myself a breakfast that I enjoy but never make for myself and …

…well….I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the frosting. The idea of making a cake for myself was enticing me on one side and taunting me on the other. (Seriously though...Who makes their own birthday cake? Anyone?)

Okay… for sure a birthday breakfast was on the docket and either a cake for myself or a pathetic moment of total wretchedness to include snotty sobbing and eating frosting out of a can in some ridiculous position on the floor or in the shower. The jury was still out on that one. Either way, I was covered.

#2 – Another lesson I’ve learned is this: a good and true community will not fail you. I say it every chance I can. Get yourself plugged in to a good church and invest in the people. Your life will be enriched beyond measure.

#3 – Lastly, God will work out the rest.

“And the Lord, He is the One who goes before you. He will be with you, He will not leave you nor forsake you; do not fear nor be dismayed.”

Deuteronomy 31:8

Now, Let’s see how those things above colored my day:

~Before I even opened my eyes in the morning, my phone was flooded with text messages from my people. Great way to start a birthday. (See #2 above)

Sorry if any of you meant for this to be personal but MAN! I have the coolest friends!

I walked across the house to discover that Daniel had slept through his alarm and was not going to make it to school on time… you know that meant?

~Birthday breakfast will my boy!! (See #1 and #3 above).

~JUST as we sat down to eat corned beef hash, eggs and toast, a special delivery knocked at the door…. Chocolate covered strawberries and balloons from my best besties (see #2 …) delivered JUST in time to ‘up’ the breakfast game. (…and #3)…

~Opened all of my birthday cards (#2) which I’d been holding until the actual day (#1)

Once I got D to school, I texted with my girl friends who convinced me to go ahead and make myself a birthday cake and not feel pathetic about the whole notion.

~It was midafternoon and I was neck deep in made-from-scratch Lemony-cream-cheese frosting with folded in rainbow chip canned frosting (cuz I’m a complete and utter GENIUS!…(#1)…) when the door rang again. On the other side of the door, one of my #BonnerBesties surprised me with a visit and some FABULOUS Tulips. (#2). (It was the middle of the afternoon and I was shamefully still in my pajamas. There is only one Bonner friend who could see me all grubby and me not be totally mortified … of course it was her! (#3))

~When the cake was done, I got dolled up for birthday dinner with another #BonnerBestie (#NotMyBoyfriend) and we had a lovely meal at a local Thai restaurant. (Funny thing…we were originally slated to have lunch but he ended up having a work thing so we rescheduled it to later which was a much better plan as it gave me something to look forward to and I didn’t have to figure out my own birthday dinner!) (a big ol’ #2 & #3).

Now I’m here at 9:30 at night, getting ready for one of my favorite birthday traditions: getting cozy in my PJs and reading through the flood of facebook lovin’….

The day wasn’t perfect. I got teary at one point but ironically it was just before I opened my cards. Those cards were a perfect remedy to the weepiness…they were full of fun and love. (#2 and #3).

Today is my birthday and it was a great day…all while being single and jobless…. Apparently joy, love and goodness don’t require anyone having a job or a significant other. Weird…