Sunday, July 24, 2022

Different

I’m not who I was just one year ago, writing about swimming and trying to create a new habit before I turned 50.

My 50th year has been remarkable.



Not in exercise (hahahahahahahahaha, ha!) but interestingly, it’s been remarkable in spirit.

When I met the Buckeye (yes, he’s still my hubby, of now nearly four years) it was on our second date I stated that my first goal in any relationship was to bring the other person joy. As time went on, I added to these relationship promises; the first four became my wedding vows to him. Each year, I have added a new vow to work on - as our marriage has been quite the roller coaster with first,  his job loss and then the devastating traumatic brain injury.  The TBI has tested my mettle; he largely forgot much of our time dating…

Yeah.  



He knew who I was, but not really how we got to that point.  And it’s been very, very difficult.

So each year we’ve gotten through, always hoping for a better future, I’ve made a new vow to him. Year one was to not give up on him-a very solemn vow, as his brain injury was still fresh, and the healing process very slow.  


I did it in front of friend, as I wanted the accountability.

Then the pandemic hit…and we pivoted Ride into an entirely new business. Year two I vowed to forgive him as many as seventy times seven…and I probably did far more than a minimum of 490 times! 


Just us, on the edge of the Mogollon Rim.

So year three, I thought life would be much easier when I told him I vowed to extend grace to him. His brain had healed to the point he no longer had daily outbursts, and my willingness to forgive during the prior year had helped me hear him better when he did loose it. We had been in counseling for about six weeks at that point, and promising him my “unmerited favor” seems almost trite to the prior years’ promises.

My tan is the last remnants of me swimming all summer. My delight in finding an exercise I loved ended when my pool closed unexpectedly the first week of August, the day after my birthday😭

You’ll note my true smiles in every photo.  No matter how bad his injury, and how hard the trials, I absolutely adore the Buckeye.  Our joint counseling basically told me I was simply feeling sorry for myself, and to put on my big girl panties. It truly helped us better understand his injury, and we began trying to focus on what he could control-and working to prevent triggers. So showing him grace?  I thought it would be easy-or at least easier than the prior two years.

Wrong.


I got my nose pierced as a 50th birthday gift from the Buckeye, which I had assumed would be an easy thing, too. πŸ€ͺπŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚. Not.

Extending grace means showing unmerited favor.  Let’s delve into that, shall we? Unmerited means they did nothing to deserve the favor. And favor?


Oh boy.

So essentially, my pool closed (that had been helping with my overall health), our counselor said I was feeling sorry for myself (WELL DUH MY HUSBAND HIT HIS HEAD AND FORGOT ME) and I was now supposed to show my husband favor when he really wasn’t certain why I was still with him after his injury, as he had no memory of us falling in love.

Plus my Mon had died just months earlier, my Daddy lived with us, the Princess had moved back in to help with my Daddy, and we had a business that was about to take a rocket ship ride….


The Princess, my Daddy, Manchild and the Commander last summer.

Oh, and Manchild was homeless most of the time, too, trying to get his life on track by loosing weight to join the Marine Corp.  Thankfully the Commander was doing pretty good by this point!

So the stresses were huge….

And I chose to extend grace.

And my life changed for the better.

Over the last year, I made the habit of choosing to extend grace to everyone. My husband. My father. My son. My daughters. My friends. My customers.  

Myself.

The Buckeye still has his ups and downs. Somedays are tremendously difficult, when his triggers fire and I’m in the crosshairs. (To be transparent-we are talking about emotional issues. There is no violence, just a lot of emotional anger that is very typical in those with brain injuries.) I’ve learned how to not to take it personally (most of the time; I do still fail, however, lol! I’m not perfect!) and I’ve remembered that I have a choice. Admittedly, our incredible success in business has helped-tremendously. 


I mixed my 14 years as a sales trainer with my five years with Ride…and we have the most AMAZING corporate team building activity-ever!!

As days grew increasingly busy, the stresses grew. I had high demands on my time to create and execute new ideas for the business, and it didn’t matter if the Buckeye could support me emotionally. It was my choice to show him grace, it was my choice to look at everything in my life as something to extend grace to.  Manchild’s life was upside down, as he struggled to get to weight to join the Corp while bouncing from couch to couch. Supporting an adult child without enabling them was incredibly hard, as you want so badly to step in and make everything better. Many long showers were had, as I prayed and cried during my only time alone. As the holidays rolled around my Daddy got sick, which landed him in the hospital. When he returned home months later he was bedridden, unable to care for himself other than the ability to feed himself. 


Manchild left for boot camp right before my Daddy came home from the hospital in late February.

At the same time, Manchild was headed to boot camp, and I had grave concerns as he had lost the weight but was not physically ready after an extended six weeks of sickness.  Indeed, six weeks in he was pulled from training to a Physical Conditioning Platoon- and it was rough…it would be nine more weeks before he returned to training. Our busiest season is Feb - April, and we were going nonstop. The Buckeye was limited in what he could do, and it frustrated him even more. My time was divided between the business, taking care of Daddy (the Princess helped tremendously!), trying to encourage Manchild and help my husband deal with triggers.  Then my dearest Daddy died in late May, and the summer heat did it’s number once again on the brain-injured Buckeye.  

Through all of it - every bit - I didn’t exercise. The loss of the pool and the whirlwind of business, coupled with the additional care my Daddy needed meant every waking moment was simply trying to catch up…and then, it all stopped.

The summer doldrums hit, and I caught up on work. We hired others to help us. The Princess made plans to move, and Manchild miraculously became a Marine.

It’s been one year since I discovered swimming. One year since I blogged. One year since the rocket ship took off….

And I’m better for it.

Did I mention I became his biker chic this last year, too? I’m trusting him that he won’t dump the bike-he’s trusting me I won’t abandon him.

I need to return to a sensible diet, and I need to incorporate exercise, again. But first, I need to go home.

To Michigan, and to Mackinac.

Extending Grace has earned me a trip home…and I am hoping it is there the Buckeye will find peace.  For he already knows the vow I will say on the fourth anniversary:

Work hard, play hard.

It’s time to make everything, finally, right.