The long road home... and back again.

I am on edge. The whirlwind should be about to end, but then I think it's really just beginning. We are back home, in Northern Cali, from home, in Southern Cali. It is amazing how much we were able to fit in the span of a week. Old friends, scattered family, digging through relics of another life, another time.

Our trip back home was an effort at allowing Dustin to say "goodbye" to anyone who wanted to hear it. The truth of the matter though, is that I still am not quite sure this is happening. And in fact, it may not happen. Our finances are a shambles and that may be enough for the military to decide they don't want Dustin and all the bills that come along with him. Our house is on the market, but we are behind on the payments. It appears we are being foreclosed upon, with a sale date to be set at the end of December. The papers arrived in the mail while we were down in SoCal saying our (premature?) goodbyes. I have heard that a foreclosure will inhibit your chances of joining the military. Dustin was supposed to hear back as to whether all of his paperwork had passed through all the necessary military channels last Friday. He received no answer and so called back yesterday, one week prior to his ship date. Still no answer. Perhaps he'll call today and there will be an answer? While this waiting game frustrates me to no end, it is not a surprise. This is the military after all.

Over the course of the last few months I have been helping to plan another get-together for my high school classmates. Littlerock High School's Homecoming game fit into our SoCal schedule almost perfectly. I only say almost because Dustin's aunt and family were having their annual Halloween party on the same night. We had to skip the party so I could catch up with some old friends... some I haven't seen in nearly 15 years. The organization and planning were a bit overwhelming with all that is going on in life right now, and I have to confess that I really didn't do all that much. Lawrence is in this planning business just as deep as I am. I know he and I both take our responsibility to our classmates seriously. As silly as it may sound, when we were elected Senior Class Officers for the 1994-95 school year, we knew that 10 years after graduation we had to get everyone, or as much of everyone that we could find, back together. Here we are 14 years later still keeping up and putting it all together. Stacia on the other hand had no real responsibility to our class and yet she has come through for all of us. Lawrence and Stacia really did the leg work for our homecoming gathering and I am thankful that they did. It was wonderful to see everyone who showed up and while there's never enough time to catch up and talk with all who show up (Lili, April) it is great to see familiar faces and look into eyes that remember and be reminded of who I was and where I came from so many years ago.

My mother's house is loaded with the remnants of my grandfather's life. The trip down gave me a chance to look through his life in a more personal way than I would have had he still been alive. My Grandpa was good at sharing the answers to whatever I asked, but you never really know what you want to and need to know, until someone is gone and all that's left behind are unlabeled pictures, collections, notes, jewelry and unanswered questions. His funeral was to take place yesterday, but the woman at the mortuary made a mistake. A mistake that may keep me from being at the funeral when it does in fact happen. After cremation my grandfather wanted to be placed in a wall at a Veteran's Cemetery. The cemetery that my mother chose, based on the options given, does not have a wall for internment. The mortuary woman was remiss in her duties when she failed to inform my mother of the nonexistent wall. So now paperwork has to be redone and more time will pass before my Grandpa can be "laid to rest." As far as I'm concerned, he's been resting now for a few weeks. What's a few more?

Adam and Avery came home with pieces of their great-grandfather's life: a pair of cuff links each, art supplies, a couple of elephants from a collection of hundreds, and sports memorabilia. Taluelah only met the man once but she has an elephant to help connect the dots as she gets older and wonders from where she came. Dustin brought home my grandfather's military ribbons, a belt buckle and a Zippo. And I have walked away from my grandfather's death with a few old family pictures, one of his original art pieces, a family of elephants, his rosary and the knowledge that how you live this life greatly influences the way in which you leave it.
In between trying to spend time with my over-worked mother, going through a life's worth of memories and riding around my old high school's football field on the unmarked alumni float (which had the current students labeling us the "old people"), we were able to visit Dustin's aunt, uncle and cousins the day after their Halloween party, spend the night with one of my favorite friends in the world and meet her newest sweet pea, talk via Skype with my Uncle Sean and cousins in Ireland and have a day filled with my sister, aunts and uncle and families, plus meet my mother's boyfriend and his beautiful daughters. It's been a long time since we were all in the same room at the same time talking and laughing and enjoying each other.

We took the long road home yesterday just to arrive right back where we started. I sometimes find it strange that no matter where I am at in California, north or south, I always feel like I am at home... leaving home to find myself back at home, with stops along the way to visit those who matter. If Dustin does depart next week and if we do follow him to whatever base he is stationed at I hope to find the same comfort in my new surroundings and in my new friends that I know here in Cali. If not, I always know I can come home.

will work for words.

Awhile ago I was given a book to read, well actually, I am always being given books to read. My quest for bookish fulfillment never seems to be adequately met. I devoured at least 2 books a week during the early months of summer. Granted, these were not all literary masterpieces, but it was a way to step outside of this box I live in. Sometimes drivel is a means to an end. As summer wore on and responsibilities that come with the Fall season approached my reading time screeched to a halt. The book that has prompted this post though, is something worth making the time for. "Birdbaths and Paper Cranes - A Family Tale" written by Sharon Randall is a collection of her previously published essays on life - hers, and the lives of those around her. Sharon Randall is a nationally syndicated columnist, I guess people really do enjoy reading this kind of stuff.

In my boredom a couple of days ago during my wait at Adam's football practice, my mind drifted to the stacks of unread books I have sitting on my night stand, dresser, table, desk... and I decided it was time to get back to it. I do have a murder/mystery type book begun, but my mind needs something a little more applicable these days. I started reading Randall's book yesterday while Taluelah used the interior of the Jeep as her own personal jungle gym, Avery received a rundown of the connectedness of our small town's people and Adam made progress toward learning and applying his football skills. I have to admit with all the distractions I didn't get far in the book, but already, the foreword written by Randall's eldest son brought me to tears. I am a sucker for a child's love and admiration, no matter how young or old the child be.

Avery is back at Riviera, where he so rightfully belongs. I have no business trying to teach that child anything other than the stuff of life that he doesn't really realize I'm teaching him. In this case the lesson would be, if you try something and it royally blows, you may back out of it with your sanity intact, or rather back out of it to keep your sanity in tact! The first two days of early waking went off without a hitch... the last two, not so much so. Either way, overall, he is happier and so am I. Avery's friends are thrilled to have him back and I know that if I ever really needed to punish my younger boy all I'd have to do is cut him off from his peers. Adam was in the middle of an assignment when I heard him singing and jumping around in his room. When I reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing he exclaimed, "I just can't help it Mom. I'm celebrating Avery not being here!" Apparently, Avery and I are not the only ones feeling a sense of relief. As the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and we were all due for a break.

Taluelah has become a certifiable toddler. If we are not attending to her needs in a timely manner she takes it upon herself to open up the refrigerator and point at exactly what it is she wants. If we still do not respond quickly enough she will attempt to retrieve whatever item she wants, regardless of the mess that ensues. She has figured out the mechanics of every pen, marker, and other indelible writing utensil we have in our home and just when we think they've all been put out of her reach, she walks around the corner with another. She managed to bite and break a tube of acrylic paint. Thankfully the paints were non-toxic, but her little green tongue was a sight to behold. Dressing my girl has become a bit of an adventure. She decides what to wear and what not to wear. It's not that she's so particular about the everyday jeans, t-shirts and shoes. But socks are something she has to choose and I have been having a heck of a time getting her to take her Minnie Mouse robe off. So she has an opinion, and desires comfort. I love it!

As I sit here writing my thoughts my eldest is building an empire in the image of Sargon's (all on paper, of course... for now), the 9 year old is missing 3rd recess, but not really missing it as he's informed me that instead of recess they do neat science experiments, and my girl is attempting to force a dish towel to stay on top of her head while she eats her chocolate teddy grahams. I am listening to Pandora radio, which really is one of the best things I've ever stumbled upon. Amos Lee was a name brought to my attention and how glad I am he was. For too long I have been bombarded with a barrage of all things punk, good enough in it's own right, but not entirely me. In 12 years I have forgotten the kind of music that stirs my soul and puts me in that feel good spot. Dido sings about being no angel and lacking perfection but still being able to smile.

I smile as I think about the foreword written by Josh Randall and how nice it would be someday to see something honest, heartfelt and beautiful written about me by one of my children. After all, isn't that what I do here, for them?

Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero.

There are times in this life that I can stand on the ground with my two feet planted firmly, looking to the skies, and I will swear I can feel the spin of this Earth. I am but a speck and this life is but a blip in the whole history, pre- and since, and I am all too aware of my failures and accomplishments. It is late and sleep beckons and yet I am drawn to my blog to put the noise out with the garbage for the night.

I have been pondering what it would be like to let Avery go back to public school. I love the child, but in the words of my hair dresser, Avery is most like me. While I am wonderful, I can be a royal pain in the ass. If there is a system to be bucked, I will buck. With all my might. If there is an opinion shared by too many, I find it's faults. Devil's advocate? perhaps. Open eyes. for sure. Avery is too smart and his eyes a bit too wide for a 9 year old and as his mother the same attributes that bring me pride have me wanting to send the child away to an orphanage in Timbuktu... or somewhere equally as far flung. But just as I had my mind wrapped around throwing in the towel for both our sakes and re-enrolling him at the Riv... the kid says he doesn't want to go back. Huh? Every day for the last month, I have heard how he wants to go back to "regular school", how he misses his friends, how he doesn't like home schooling for a zillion different reasons and only likes it for maybe two, tops - he can sleep in and do his work in his underwear.

I think I was feeling relief at the thought of having one less child to teach and in Ave's case, argue with through the day. And now, he says he'll think about it. Whose idea was giving children choice anyway? Uh hmmmm. Adam is still happy to be home and does his assignments and I guide him where needed. We have a good working relationship... nothing like the quarrelsome attitude I receive from his younger brother. Taluelah runs amok tearing up everything she touches and Dustin comes home to an empty house that looks as if a tornado has run it's course right through the middle of the most traveled areas because by the time he arrives I am sitting at a football field trying to entertain a nearly 18 month old while keeping an eye on my wandering 9 year old so that the 11 year old can play football with his friends who he will be leaving much too shortly.

Times like these I feel my wings stretching against the pins that hold them back. As I attempt to escape, even for a bit, Dustin's insecurities flare. With a day less than one month to go before he departs, I think the reality of what we're leaving behind is giving way to what life will be. I see a time coming when there will be no escape. I don't want to make it seem like taking a break from my family deserves the word escape, but when I am on 24/7... escape is just what I find myself needing. With Dustin here, I rarely have a moment without a child by my side. The last few weeks I have had to struggle against the bonds I have shackled myself into as well as the ideas others have of my role.

I did choose to go the home schooling route. I do not regret it, for if you know me you know there are no regrets... only lessons learned. I have tried, really really tried, to find a way to help the 9 year old see the benefits of this way of schooling and he has done all but spit my words back in my face. And now, again, when offered the chance to go back to his school, his friends, he says he'll think about it? What to do when an orphanage/slave labor is out of the question???

The two times I have made it outside my four walls, without a child dragging along, I have been with people I love and am going to miss terribly. I have met people who could end up being just as important, just as missed. Good people are everywhere, this I know. Nothing lasts forever, as I'm frequently being reminded. Letting go, saying goodbye, it's never easy. All I can hope is that this next chapter will benefit my family. That my children will be afforded a better quality of life. That they will see more of this world than I ever would have been able to show them in our current circumstances. I am struggling with the idea of death and how final it is. If Dustin does not come home, life will go on, but what a different life it will be for our three offspring. I suppose that is not what I am meant to dwell on... but I can't stop the thought from reaching it's creeping tentacles across the lobes of my overactive brain.

With all that is on the verge of happening in my life I rarely have time to stop and think outside of the box I live in. Much too much to think about in the here and now. My grandfather passed away on September 29th. I have felt strangely detached in my grief. I was listed as the alternate, behind my mother, on his Advance Directive. My mother called to tell me he had passed and really that's all the info she could give me. Shortly after her call, a chaplain called to inform me of the death. The chaplain said he called me because I was listed as the person who would make sure my grandfather's wishes were followed. I live 300+ miles away. I met my grandfather when I was 13. I have seen him one time in the last 8 years. I am having difficulty reconciling the man he was to many with the man he supposedly became. They could have been one and the same. I do not know. I wasn't there all those years ago. But the stories that have followed his death and the light bulbs that have flashed above my head as pieces of this puzzle fall into place, make me a bit shaky. Either way, he's gone and I've done what I could from my distance to carry out his last wishes. There has been much grief in this family over the course of the last few months. My Aunt K, his daughter, is gone. He is gone. The rest of us are left to pick up pieces and grapple with our own personal realities, memories. The weight keeps getting heavier and heavier.

I think I will have a talk with Avery again. See what the hesitation stems from now that the opportunity is there. Lighten my load either through sending him off to public school or through arranging some kind of deal with him regarding his attitude here in home school. Stretch my wings a bit, maybe even spread them and fly away for awhile... enjoy what I have while I have it and hope that someday when I leave this plain my children and my familiars know that I lived with the best of intentions, loved with all my heart, and was only human for needing to escape the confines of these walls occasionally.