Questing Afresh

So, apparently a fat strainer is a thing.

I made my own chicken soup from scratch!

As it became more and apparent I had no clue what I was doing, I simply had to laugh.

How was it possible, at 47 years old, I had never cut up a fryer chicken before?  Why did neither I, or the Buckeye, own a fat strainer? More importantly, why did I think all of this would fit in that pot I used to cook the chicken?!

That’s 2 large onions and 10 cups of chopped butternut squash with kale (the carrots are behind me.)

The Buckeye’s injury had slowed him down to a shuffle; he walked with a cane when we are out and about at the new year.  Granted, it’s a kickbutt cane; it was my great-grandfather’s and is over 100 years old.

Henry’s cane, made out of a tree root or limb, around the turn of the last century.

Me, being the huge optimist, sees a very unique opportunity here:  the Buckeye is now slower than me.  Meaning now, more than ever before, is the very best time to start my quest afresh.

Four years ago, I suffered a traumatic brain injury, much like my husband is now suffering.  Granted, his brain bled and mine did not, and we hit different areas of our skull.  But post-concussion syndrome is something I am VERY familiar with...my fitness quest started because of it.  In this blog, I frequently whined about having/not having a partner...hating exercise, etc.

Welllllllllll......

This guy can’t go balls to the wall anymore in sport, and has been reduced to golf and hiking as his primary outlets for activities.

Me, too!!!!!!!!!!

I CAN DO THOSE THINGS!!!  I can also kayak, canoe....bicycle not down huge mountains, meander in general....!!!

While he sees a setback, I see a companion.  At this moment, my lungs are on par with his weak body.  What if we Quest together????

Our 5-2 diet returned on January 2nd; my healthy cooking is part of it.  We did this before amazingly well, only forgetting as the stress of my unsold house (and us living 100 miles apart) took its toll.  It once was a habit, and it’s going to be a habit again.  As the Buckeye reestablishes his hiking habit...why can’t I join him? What if I take those baby steps with him?

If I’m awake, I’ll try to remember this!

Last year, I joined the Buckeye in becoming a Browns fan.

The first time I wore this jacket to a restaurant, I was told they didn’t serve Browns fans.

I told him that OU’s hotshot QB Baker Mayfield, who he did not like, was going to win the Heisman, be the #1 draft pick by the Browns, break the Browns losing streak and the Browns, who were 0-16 the prior season, would win at least 6 games.

This is the aforementioned Mayfield, planting the OU flag in the middle of the Shoe, after humiliating the Buckeyes in 2017 😎

Baker did win the Heisman.

And he was the #1 draft pick.

And he did break the Browns losing streak.

And they won 7 games, not 6.

The Buckeye had to buy me Mayfield’s jersey...yes, it was a bet:) If all came true as I said, he’d have to buy it for me.  What neither of us foresaw? Manchild joining the Dawg Pound with us.

As I championed Baker, I decided to watch his pre-draft mini documentary on Facebook, Becoming Baker.  I was surprised to learn he had walked on to OU’s football team, and delighted to learn this brash young man seemed to have solid roots.  This was not Manziel 2.0, as my Buckeye claimed.  While he had some immaturity issues, he had a strong work ethic and dedication to doing right.  Furthermore, he had habits.  One habit I particularly I liked: he used negative things to motivate himself to do better.

This candy orange was full of lucious fluff...let’s not talk about calories, shall we?

So I’m looking at my weight as a negative I can be inspired by.  That helped when I stepped on the scale on 12/31 and I weighed 179.8 lbs - yeah! I was under 180.  That did not help one week later, when I stepped on the scale and weighed....

179.8.

So the positive is I didn’t gain any weight.  And to be honest, we started fasting on 1/2, so we only had one day in that week...and I was still super stressed, so I ate waaaay too much the other six days.

Week two, we fasted Monday and Wednesday, as was our old habit.  I learned that the diet had been updated, and two things were changed:  1) you could eat up to 800 calories on a fast day and 2) any calorie consumption under 50 calories meant you hadn’t broken your fast (as I suspected.)  This was awesome for me, as I don’t believe in breakfast.  Never have.  One cup of coffee with one tablespoon of creamer (35 calories) is all I need, and I’m good until 4ish.  Then I have a snack-of about 300 calories, that has some fat in it-avocados mixed with a few spices does wonders!  Add in a fairly normal dinner, and I’m easily under calories....

And I weighed 178.2 on week three:)

I’m finding it’s best if I only weigh myself once a week. The idea is healthy lifestyle, not losing weight like crazy.  I did notice (like before) that I was finding myself fuller on non-fast days; I had to consciously choose not to eat more when I was full.

I also dyed my hair peacock colors right around then...

Why blue-green hair?  Well, I love it, and the Buckeye loves it, and why not? It’s only hair, and I can control my hair.  Right?

I admit, I was surprised I rarely heard a thing about my hair in public.  Maybe two “I love it” and nothing else...society has apparently been well trained that if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say it at all.

Week four? 177.2

Down at least a pound two weeks in a row, with a full tummy and denying myself really nothing.  Just better food choices.

Which is awesome, as my handsome Buckeye is really turning the corner in his recovery-we’re going golfing soon as “therapy!”

As the year ended, I was plummeting towards depression.  The horrid circumstances we were still facing, the Buckeye’s injury, my parents moving 2000 miles away and immediately getting injured, difficulties with business.  My stress eating didn’t help, and I put on eight pounds in December...which is coming off one pound at a time.  Healthy foods, recognizing bad habits and initiating old good ones (5-2, exercise, devotions, limiting screen time) have helped me tremendously...21 days into the new year I have some good habits in place.

Sounds like the Browns have some new good habits, too.

What this all boils down to is this:  we all have a choice.  Everyday, in every circumstance.

Will I do what’s best for me, or will I react negatively?

As things start turning around in every area of my life for the better, I recognize that many of the changes are due to simply making better choices.  My health is entirely the result of my choices.  As I watch the Buckeye daily push to regain his physical strength (he no longer needs the cane!) I see his choices impact the rest of our lives together.  I don’t ever want to look back and wish I’d made better choices; the only “what if” is right before me, today.

What if I chose to do it right, right now?

This man is showing me that every day, as he fights his way back to health.

While the Buckeye won’t be able to do what he loved to do (competition rugby, mountain biking, coaching basketball by playing full contact) he’s focusing on what he can do, and what new things we can do together.  He had a headache for 42 days straight, and kept his cool 98% of the time (better than most of us without headaches, I might add.)  As I focused on the circumstances, he looked forward to the future, set goals, and then started working towards them...even while in tremendous pain, everyday.

In truth, I’m doing what we all know to do: eat healthy, exercise, self-care for the body, soul and spirit.  I chose to do it when my world seemed very dark...at a time I thought I could not change anything.  What made it possible?

Taking it one moment, one hour, one day at a time.  That lesson I learned from my husband...by example, as I watched his progress continually move forward daily.

Having peacock colored hair??  It’s an amazing mood picker-upper:)

All thing work together for our good...if we simply make good choices, one moment at a time.

It’s Not Supposed to be Hard

One year ago, I made the realization that I could fall in love with the Buckeye, over and over again.

Like at this moment, during our vows, when we broke out giggling.  I fell a bit more.

Married life, is soooo easy.  Life itself? Right now? Very, very hard.  We are experiencing trials that make the past year pale in comparison.

But us?

Mrs & Mr Buckeye have been very, very happy; content, even (before the brain bleed...sigh!)

We’ve discovered that marriage, despite outward circumstances being very challenging, should be easy.

It was a choice to put aside our circumstances, and let us be us.  All summer they had plagued us:  moves, remodels and more moves.  Another house to put on the market, another sale to wait for.  All that change wore on both of us, as evidenced in our wedding photos.

While delighted with the pictures-my eyes are half shut in every one.  I was beyond exhausted with the stress of the prior few months.

Our mini-moon, a three-day jaunt to Vegas, was more to simply rest!  We went to bed early and did little but sit by the pool.

Undeniably happy, also undeniably tired.

So returning home, I had hoped for a reprieve.  Yes, his old house was still for sale, but it was completely done.  I could start focusing on better things, right?

Our lives were turned upside down at 6am the day after we came home.  They remain that way today, nearly four months later.  Confronted with a circumstance that could easily destroy us, we vowed to cling to one another.

Three weeks in, I couldn’t do it anymore.  

I began to panic.

A very good liar.

I was standing in the kitchen, putting away groceries.  The circumstances had overwhelmed me, and I wanted to run.  I had tried to cling, I had tried to be supportive, I had tried to be all I knew to be....and I wanted out.

I just wanted rest.

All along, I had thought it was just around the corner.  Now I was discovering that life had handed me a gauntlet so intimidating I was overwhelmed just a few weeks in...and as I stood there shaking, gripping a can of tomatoes I wanted to fling across the room, I questioned again why I was where I was.

And from deep within me, the answer came; strong, clear and insistent.

“LOVE NEVER FAILS.”

In that moment, I had to chose.  To chose to love, or to give in to physical weariness that was over a year in the making and to Fear, who was reminding me that when I’d chosen to love in the past, it hadn’t worked out in my favor.

I again chose love.

Despite a seventeen year history of choosing to love daily, only to have it end in a heartbreaking divorce.  Despite warning signs that this new marriage had hallmarks matching the last.

I chose love because I knew the Buckeye was not the King, and that severe circumstances were testing us both.  That our situation, while panic-inducing, wasn’t either of our faults.

The house sold soon after I made the choice to love; when the Buckeye utilized Open Door.  Yes, he paid a service fee, but his house was sold at a fair price 30 days later.  The sale relieved part of our burden, but the real relief had come much sooner.

While I chose to love, the Buckeye chose to listen.

My finished ring, two bands with rubies surrounding my sapphire.  I’m happily on Caspersen Beach, and delighted in the many grains of sand peppering my hand.

He began to learn, and I began to relax.  Neither of us had expected to be thrown in such a battle the day we returned home from our honeymoon.  While we had done fairly well not reacting, and had not attacked each other, we had forgotten we were now partners.  As I gently taught him the principles of choosing love, he was the first to see my need to heal.

Of course, there are things we will NEVER agree on...

In late October I returned from a cross-country drive to Florida; my parents decided to move there and I brought them their car while they flew.  Unexpectedly, I became ill with an ear infection.

That lasted a month.

I was barely better by Thanksgiving, and thankful I could join the Buckeye on his turn as the Grinch in the Prescott Lights Parade.

After weeks of inactivity due to extreme vertigo from the infection, I was starting to feel better...

My Buckeye had, in fact, proved to be a very good nurse.

So I’m feeling better, despite the unchanged, still awful circumstances that stretched back to the day we got back from our honeymoon when...

A tackle in a game of rugby didn’t go as planned.  He made the tackle, but took a knee to the forehead.

And thought he was fine.

He was not.

It was a brain bleed, and up to ICU he went.

Suddenly, our bad circumstances were compounded with a true threat to his very life.

Not certain who is more exhausted in this photo...

My Buckeye survived, and his trauma doctors told him he was very, very lucky.  Given his history of concussions, this one merely landed him in ICU; it could have permanently disabled him or killed him.  As is, we expect him to make a full recovery.

Still, the first two days he was home, I fought back tears.  I felt like I was in a time warp; that I was dealing with my own post post-concussion syndrome.  I knew what was coming:  the mood swings, the irrational anger and the mourning of the loss of life once lead.  While I recognized the fact I was exhausted, it was still hard not to give in.  Why were we being hit with another huge blow?  I struggled to keep in front of me the Buckeye’s survival.  All I could see were the broken dreams; the trials and the disappointments.  

And yet?

It was so easy to encourage him.  It was so easy to believe that he would have a full recovery, and we would be ok.

He couldn’t  do anything for two weeks...but our sweet dog Lucy is by his side (as am I.)

Oh, he’s had his moments.  I’ve had my moments.  It’s a struggle in many ways:  the recovery, our circumstances still unchanged and then little things piled on top.  An injured foot, an unpaid bill, doctors with no open appointments for two months.  Worries about so many things...

And yet....

It’s still easy.

It’s easy to rest my head on his shoulder and hear his heartbeat.  It’s easy to say, “it’s going to be ok,” and it’s easy to listen to him saying the same...and believing it.

We have a road together that has been a horrible, terrible ride since the day we came home...and yet, we are finding joy.  We are finding love.  We are finding that in our choice to cling to one another, we are being knit together with ties much stronger than either of us have ever known.

No, it’s not supposed to be this hard...but the fact we are finding it easy to be partners in it?

That’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

Tipping Point

I sold my house, and happiness did not come.

The storm did not let up.

My house sold, the GMIHC Learning & Tribute Center opened and I went to rodeo with my children.

Their expressions sum up my feelings:  skeptical, tired and smiling because you should.

I thought I was simply exhausted from the whirlwind of opening Ride, selling the house and opening the Center.  I headed to Seattle for the Special Olympics National Games, expecting some respite.

It was cold and raining.  I’m a Phoenician now, so....

Seattle was wonderful.  Absolutely the best decision I’ve made this year; which was made in early May to be there early on Sunday.  A leap of faith.

Because of this guy.  This was his dream 20 years in the making, and I got to be there for him.

All week, I cheered on Team AZ, delighting I was getting to know our guys all the better.

My favorite picture from the week.  After the Mariners game, walking back to the light rail.

The week ended with a few days of reconnecting with my man, and spending time with his best friend (and fellow coach) and his family.

Beautiful Seattle.

A surprise engagement (the groom-to-be is one of Gregg’s groomsmen....we affectionately call him our Scotch Bearer since he’s too old to bear rings...)

We soooo love many of the same things!  In the underground.

And while it was a wonderful trip, full of good memories, I couldn’t shake the fact I wasn’t happy.

Happy.  A joy from within that puts a smile on your face.  A knowing that all is right in the world.  My house had sold, and I should have been happy.  Instead, I was homeless...and it bothered me.  This was completely unexpected; feeling as if I was drifting.  Coming home to Phoenix meant there was nowhere in Prescott to return to, no place I could be at ease.  While technically the Buckeye’s home was my address, I really didn’t live there.  My stuff was in boxes, and I was merely a guest.  So I left, as planned earlier, for California.

Where the Princess and I enjoyed two days at Disneyland and Disney’s California Adventure, all paid for by her.

Please note where our hands are:)

Our two days of melting in the California sunshine then culminated in the two girls hitting the beach, and me helping the Buckeye’ BFF of 30+ years with a fundraiser for the Lazarex Foundation, which helps cancer patients.  

The Caretaker :)  She’s the female version of the Buckeye, and the Princess’s favorite new “Aunt!”  We were able to surprise her with an early birthday party, too.

Two weeks after the sale of my home, she and I stayed up late looking at wedding flower ideas.  While I loved helping, loved being in California and loved my newest friend, I “knew” I should be finding some happiness.  So much good was happening.

But I was tired.

And hot.  Good lord it’s been hot.  I’ve never sweated so much as I have the last two month.

I came “home,” and my darling Buckeye bought me a house.

And I noted my weight creeping up....

And work began in earnest.  Lots of work.

One of my many messes.

A chair I own in a house!!

And while all of my things were moved to the new house, it still seemed surreal.  I *was* thrilled to have such a gift!  I do love making the house a home.  But.

I had no joy.

I pondered this a lot; shutting off my beloved talk radio and custom-built playlists.  I had burst into tears frequently, and wondered if this wasn’t all a mistake.  I was tired, the Buckeye was worried, the Commander was being very commanding (I was reminded of the summer she graduated.  Good lord.) the Princess was torn, Manchild needed direction.  The house may have sold, but all around me, my people where in chaos.  My parents both took ill, and the wedding became something to stress over rather than enjoy.

One Friday the Buckeye had a nail-gun malfunction, and as I listened to his frustration while I painted the linen closet, I again quietly prayed.  

And scraped paint off of a vent for an hour, because it was therapeutic.

That night we came together, and agreed we needed to get back to church.  We decided to go the next night, which had been our custom for so long.

The next morning was a little lighter.

This incredible man of mine.  Cut trim and installed it for hours in 110°+ heat.

The Buckeye had been feeling as if God wasn’t present; while I had simply become worn down.  The sermon that night?  “Little Lies:  When God Seems Distant.”  The opening song for worship? One of my all-time favorites, “The Stand.”

In less than one hour, we both felt refreshed.

As we ate dinner, we admitted we had been spiritually depleted.  Having given and given, we had little left.  My lack of happiness was because I was enpty; his frustrations were similar.  We had both overextended ourselves in love to others, and while we loved doing so, we had not taken the time to refill.

Our prayer changed that night, and we committed to making the time for God.  

For He had been there all along, waiting to refresh us.

Waiting for us to turn our attention to Him.

On Sunday morning, I went to Home Depot, again.

About a 1/3 needs to be returned.  Really.

I did feel lighter in my soul, but I was still tired.  I was baffled by 45 year old wiring, and looked forward to an evening without paint involved....but still.

The Commander was still being commanding.  The Princess was still torn.  Manchild was still confused.  And regardless of your opinion of me, I’m still their mom.

As I thought about them, the Buckeye came to me in a rush.  “I’m going to sell my house,” he declared.

I was surprised; our original plan was to rent it.  As we talked, he felt more sure of it.  I was pleasantly surprised.  We finished up for the day, and chatted some more.  He called his realtor, and we begun to make plans.

It would be one more huge thing to deal with in the weeks coming up to the wedding.

And I was thrilled.

Returning the backup wedding dress to a posh store in painting clothes...with a true smile for a change.

The heaviness lifted as the Buckeye cut away his safety net, and threw in with me.

My soul’s weariness was trifold:  physically, the activity has been nonstop.  Mentally I’ve hoped for the best, but suspected some soul crushing blows were afoot.  Spiritually, I feel embattled.  Being patient.  Listening.  Being kind.  

It’s not easy always being kind.

As my house becomes my home, and I blend my things with his, I can sense change.

We are now 5 weeks into the remodel, and hopefully I am finish his house today to go on the market tomorrow.  The blessing of the remodel has been multiple:  I learned (again) that my source of strength is in God, the reasons past relationships have failed and to have a backbone.  I learned that I love remodeling (even those other don’t) and could easily make this my life’s work.  I learned patience does pay off, and that the peace that passes all understanding is a very real thing.

Even when your bathroom looks like this...there can be peace.

Peace, many times, is a choice.  A choice to trust God, and to trust your partners around you.  Peace comes when that trust is based on promises that are yea and amen, scriptures proven again and again.

As I’ve delved deeper into choosing to trust God that I am on the right path, a deep calm has enveloped me.  I see glimpses of the happiness that will be my future.  Soon these days of being apart will have ended, and we will be married...

Very soon if we have one of these!!!

No, I’m not happy with life when everyone around me seems to be in chaos.  But I have a peace that I don’t understand, and with that I’m thoroughly blessed.  These days are few...very few.  

Yes.

My strength comes from Christ, and His sacrifice.  It’s ok that I’m not happy-I’m also not depressed.  It’s ok that I’m getting through each day-because I’m accomplishing a lot.  It’s ok because I am content.

Content.

So many definitions I could identify with!!

I have a home.  It’s becoming beautiful.  Soon I’ll be joined here by my husband....my, that’s a word I’ve not used in three years...and have both my daughters here (and a son on weekends!). Yes, I’m content with this lot.

There’s more I wish for, and more I desire-especially for Ride-but it’s ok.  At this very moment, it’s ok.

And I’ll keep trusting the Lord it will be.