Jan. 2, 2016
Day 948
A new year full of
new possibilities...
My house is
currently full of stench. This week
while Will was gone we developed a clog in the pipes that made using the
kitchen sink an impossibility. He's home
now and cutting pipes. Apparently,
there's a food back-up in the pipes.
Yuck. I don't think I'm going to
replace my garbage disposal once it goes.
It's too easy to use it as a grinder and forget that food really needs
to mostly go in the garbage. Will's not
very happy with anyone in the house at the moment.
His hunting trip
went well, at least, even though he didn't shoot a deer. He said it was still fun. His friend, Eric, shot a 9 point buck and
gave us most of it. I spent New Year's
Eve processing it all by myself and ended up with 59 pounds of burger. I thought that was pretty good!
Ellie was writing
on the packages for me. I instructed her
to write "DB '15." I happened
to glance down in to the tub where we were putting the packaged meat and saw that
they all read "16" instead. I
asked her why and she shrugged and replied, "Sixes are easier for me to
write than fives." Makes sense.
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We got quite a bit
of snow at the beginning of the week.
The city's brakes on the plow went out while being used. The driver stopped by my house and gasped,
"I'm not driving that thing no more!"
So, I had to spend some time finding someone to fix it.
Since Will wasn't
home, the shoveling duties fell to David.
He suggested one day to Ben that he could help him do the
shoveling. Ben looked at him, aghast,
and protested, "No! I might get
cold!" Well, then - we wouldn't want you to do that, then, would we?
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I ended up not
going to church New Year's Eve because Lizzie had a slight vomiting incident
late that afternoon. She was perfectly
fine later, but I didn't want to take a chance that this was the start of
something bad and have her throw up all over the table at church. Plus, I really don't like talking to people
all that much, so any chance to be a homebody - particularly when it's cold out
- I'm going to jump at.
I processed the
deer and around 10 I flipped on the New Year's Eve celebration stuff on the
tv. It made me so mad. This was NBC.
There were 5 people sitting around, trading one-liners, basically. It was Carson Daly from the Today show (I
like him), one of the "Real Housewives" of that show franchise on cable tv - she
was black, but had obviously had her face done because it was so tight she
couldn't make a real expression. She had
dyed, flat, blond hair, which was interesting in light of a comment she made
just a few minutes after I turned the tv on.
There was a gay guy sitting with his legs crossed and joking about
homosexuality, a liberal female comedian and some other guy. So, they were reviewing 2015 and like I said,
trying to all be stand up comedians.
They got on the subject of Raven Symone's comment earlier in the year
and this is when I shut off the tv.
Raven Symone was cutie preschooler on the Cosby Show in its later
years. She stayed in tv, but that's her
best known role. She decided she was gay
a few years ago but I kind of wonder if
that was an attempt to boost her sagging tv career. I don't know.
Anyway, in an interview with Oprah Winfrey earlier last year she made
the bold comment that she does not consider herself to be an, "African
American." Rather, she continued,
she is simply, an "American."
I probably don't agree with anything else that will ever come out of her
mouth, but this I applaud.
Well, these NYE's
commentators jumped all over that. The
liberal, white comedian said that was the "most racist thing" she'd
heard all year and the reality Housewife star (remember - also black and
sporting platinum, obviously not hers, hair) joked, "Honey, her hair is
nappier than this couch I'm sitting on!"
What - ?? It was just
stupid. The actress hadn't said she
didn't consider herself to be black, she just said she refused to
identify as a hyphenated American.
That's when I
turned the tv off. I wouldn't pay to spend my time with these
dumb people - why should I invite them for free into my home via the television
set?
The kids gave me a
book I've wanted for a long time for Christmas (Francine Rivers, "Bridge
to Haven") and I picked that up and
started reading where I left off earlier in the week. It was a much more satisfactory way to bring
in the new year than watching the stupid television filled with stupid people.
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The kids had a
busy week with friends. My friend,
Julie, brought over her 6 year old Sunday afternoon so she and her husband
could go hunting on Monday. However, the
weather was so awful Monday they couldn't go.
So, Faith ended up spending two nights here. Then, Tues, the Littles all went to the
Merritts. This couple had a total of 9
children, ages 7 months to 9 years with them - and they hauled them all to the
Science Museum. Really brave or really,
really crazy...
Before I brought
the kids over, Jenn texted to see if I wanted to go get a pedicure. Her husband had the idea and volunteered to
treat us both. So, I quick shaved my
legs and hoped the workers wouldn't make too many comments in Vietnamese about
the state of my feet. They didn't, but
ended up about burning the skin off my legs with the concoction they used to
massage them. It was so bad I had to
slather my legs in aloe vera later that night!
But I've had the pleasure of looking at my pretty green toes all week
long every time I take off my socks - so what are minor, 4th degree burns?
I was able to get
my kitchen all painted before I went to pick up the kids the next day. Very productive. I did a red accent wall. I'm not completely happy with the shade of
red it ended up being, but it will work for now, I guess. Someday, I might deepen it to a truer red.
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A friend posted a
video on her timeline of the recent funeral of a man she knew. He was younger and left behind children as
young as their preschool years. Only,
his funeral wasn't called a "funeral." Instead, it was referred to as a
"celebration of life." Viewing
this clip really solidified some thoughts I've
developed in the last couple of years regarding the use of the term,
"celebration of life" over "funeral."
First of all -
just stop. A funeral is NOT a
celebration. The only exception I can
possibly think of might be for a centurion who had suffered with sickness a
long time before succumbing. Maybe
then. But even when younger people (as
in, younger than 100 years) die after long, painful illnesses, their death
might come with a sense of relief, but it's not celebratory, either.
A funeral is a
time of sadness. It is a time to
mourn. It is a time to pay respect and
homage to the person who had died. It is
a time to support those closest to the deceased.
It is not a time
to dance around the auditorium, arms uplifted, wearing jeans and t-shirts
singing 77 verses of the chorus, "Yes, Lord" which is comprised of
exactly three words - repeated ad nauseum.
This was the video I watched this week.
That's not respectful.
I know the
arguments against this. Christians will
say that we have every reason to rejoice when a loved one goes Home. After all, they're free of earth's shackles. There's no more pain, no suffering. It's temporary...blah, blah, blah. I know all this. I agree with all this. But a "celebration of life" leaves
no room for sadness. It can make the
bereaved feel guilty for feeling desolate and experiencing normal grief.
Death stinks. It hurts.
It shreds your heart and tears at your soul. It is not a time to celebrate. And I think this is terminology and
thinking need to go. Pretending death and funerals are not what
they are - doesn't make them not what they are.
****************************************
I mentioned that
this week the kids spent some time at the Merritt's. Seven months ago they adopted an adorable
little boy at birth - were even present for the birth. Lizzie wanted to know yesterday why the birth
mom chose to give up her baby. I
explained that it was because she loved him very much and knew she couldn't
give him the best kind of home. And
because of that love, she was willing to let another family have him. Lizzie was quiet and then asked, "Does
that mean my birth mom didn't love me?"
She then added, "Because she didn't want me to be
adopted?" Her mind continually
amazes me.
So we had a long
talk about the differences in the two different adoptions she was familiar with
- willing birth adoption like with Baby Titus' and non-willing foster care
removal/adoption like her own. I was
able to assure her that her birth mother did, indeed, love her and all the
other siblings - but the kind of love she offered wasn't enough and it wasn't
healthy. It was a good
conversation. I always feel drained
after we talk about this kind of stuff because I want to be careful to say the
right things at a level Lizzie can understand.
I don't want to trash-talk her birth mother, but I want to to present an
honest picture of what happened as well.
A lot of things would be easier if it had been a willing birth adoption!
***********************************
Well, that's all I
know for this first couple days of the new year. The kids head back to school Tuesday and my
classes start the following Mon. I need
to get on the phone to BVU and make sure they're really ok with me starting
since all my financial aid stuff hasn't all come through yet. My new laptop I ordered for classes arrived
this week. Oh, I hope I'm doing the
right thing. I'm so afraid I'm going to
fail at this endeavor!
I suppose I had
better go and get supper ready. Then
we'll be headed for the bedtime countdown.
Tomorrow is church.
Will says I will
be without a kitchen sink and dishwasher until Tuesday. He is replacing all the pipes connected to
it. I did the dishes today in the
bathtub. The entire basement smelled
horrible by the time he and David were done working but they doused everything
with a bleach solution and it's much more bearable now.
Monday will
be/would have been Paul's 45th birthday.
Last year I did a picture collage on Facebook for that event, but I just
don't feel like doing that this year. I
tried to go decorate his grave today with some birthday things but I got stuck
trying to get in the cemetery with all the snow and ice! I was eventually able to back on out of there
and just went home. Paul will have to
have a tipped over Christmas tree and wreath at his grave for his birthday,
instead. But I am planning on making his
favorite foods for Monday night's supper.
It's something,
anyway. Even if it was just a normal
night, I'd still remember the significance of the day. That's
something that will always be there for the rest of my life.
I agree completely about the whole "celebration of life" thing. I think we as a culture are afraid of grief so we try to sugar coat it. I keep thinking about Joseph of Egypt (I have probably said this before) that he mourned for his father Jacob for over a month after Jacob died at the ripe age of 130 years or something. But Joseph mourned and wailed.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry about the pipe mess. UGHGHGHGHGHGHHHHHHHHH!!!