The other side

Rich is celebrating the fact that there are less than three weeks to go until the move is complete and Mom and Dad are settled in their new home. He goes to the farm every few days for stuff and just to hang for a bit. It's no big deal.

I, on the other hand, am dealing with a lot of junk right now. I can't--not WON'T, but can't and therefore, I won't--set foot on the land. In spite of going to Valerie and Tony's on several occasions since the sale of the farm, I won't even pass it. (Thank goodness there are at least two ways to get to the Trapps' from here.) I can't. I'm not that strong; after all, this is the only home I've known for all of my forty-two years.

Joanne Beyersdoerfer said it best: it's like a death. I thought I was nuts until she said it. Knowing Joanne, even then I still wasn't sure. ;-) But then someone else said the same thing last Sunday, so either all three of us are cases or there is a lot of truth in that. I tend to believe the latter. I feel a grief in my heart like nothing I've ever had except when I've lost those I loved the most--my grandparents, my mother-in-law, Brian's grandparents, my cousin...It's an emptiness that will, in time, become a part of me that I will accept, but that's all it will be--an acceptance. Nothing will replace. Nothing will compare. It's a loss that is almost too great to bear, nearly like the others. The house and the land aren't human, but they're so much a part of me that they may as well be. Like they said about Jacob in Skylark--the movie that I watched last night--my name is written in the land there. And it's not eraseable. Regardless of who owns it or what he does with it, what I've known all my life will be in my heart until my life is over. And I wonder if it's so much a part of me that Jesus will make a house with dark wood-panel halls that lead to a freezing (or roasting, depending on the season) bathroom and an upstairs that allows the sounds of the tree limbs banging on the tin on windy days and the drumming of the rain on those spring and summer nights. (I know there isn't darkness in Heaven, but I wonder if we really need darkness to have "night." I can't imagine a life without an opportunity to be lulled to sleep under such a sound at least once in a while.) I imagine my mansion with floors that bounce as you walk through and an upstairs that has a register in the floor that are perfect for calling upstairs for dinner--or downstairs to ask a silly question. I imagine smelling Christmas and Easter and Thanksgiving dinners--and others--with the women talking in the cramped kitchen while the men and the kids sit in the crowded living room. I imagine open fields and woods to walk through and cows grazing on the ridges. And I imagine spectacular sunsets blending in their yellows and purples and reds and grays just over the ridge.

Needless to say, I can barely read the screen right now. I've needed this for about two months and I'm finally getting it. The house is quiet and no one is here to interrupt me while I grieve. And I do grieve. I grieve that I couldn't have it and I grieve that someone with, I believe, no regard all but stole it from us and I grieve that someone else was so ready to "get rid of it" that he allowed that to happen.

I'm going to be in Louisville and then possibly Belleview on March 11. I can't bear to be at the farm with the family on that day, as sacrilegious and selfish as that seems. But I've never been good with good-byes.

Especially the final ones.

Part III

Straight up.

What a difference a day makes, Part II

Of course, now that Dad seemingly feels he can't complain about Rich's foolishness in going to St. Louis to meet someone he "knows so little about," so to speak, he's decided to complain that he isn't here to move his stuff.

Forget beer. I need good old Kentucky bourbon.

Since Rich is away

He's having the time of his life!

In the meantime, church was its usual good stuff. Larry discussed getting rid of the garbage in your life--the clutter, physical and otherwise. I've been dealing with this, so today hit home especially. He didn't step on toes; he confirmed what I'd said for a long time. Good stuff.

Attendance was down. Everyone was evidently on vacation. That's OK. My turn will come eventually!

What a difference a day makes

Now Dad knows I've talked to Shane AND his mom and everything seems to be OK.

Yes, I'm sure he's feverish...

If disease, accidents, or other acts of God don't kill me....

our parents will.

Dad: "I just found out that Rich took off. That's the ignorantest (sic) thing I've ever heard of a smart guy doing."

Uh...not really, Dad. (Note the "And...the parents' move" paragraph.)

BOOOORRRR-inng

What a day. After an hour delay, you would think that the day would be shorter. Nope. The biggest excitement of the day (aside from opening the blasted library door every other minute because of a new policy) was to see our security camera being moved to its new location toward the center of the library. Now the kids who are on computers will be on camera. Let's hope it helps with the after-school garbage.

Oh, yeah. It's always exciting to hear an administrator being called over the radio to your brother's room. I wasn't too concerned about his safety; on the other hand, the kids' safety...

I need to find a retirement plan within the next two-and-a-half years.

Wow.

Never thought about it this way:

"Satan envies man's happiness. To see a clod of dust so near to God, and himself, once a glorious angel, cast out of heavenly paradise, makes him pursue mankind with inveterate hatred."--Thomas Watson

It's not worth the headaches, but at least it helps

After three fights in three days, a scandal worthy of the former White House, and numerous complaints (as usual) about the current administration's lack of administration, you'd think that I'd have little to write that's humorous; however, kids will be kids and incompetents will be incompetents, so here are the highlights:

1. A social studies teacher is leading a unit over the Middle East. After he allowed each student to draw a country, one student asked, "Where are all the other countries like Germany and all that?"
2. I warned two students three times to keep their voices down in the library this afternoon. A class was working on a portfolio and the one student has only one volume; the other doesn't care. But when one decided to aggravate the other and the other slapped the one in a boy's playful (albeit stupid) way, I threw them out--loudly--on the spot; as a result, I not only cleared them out, but six other students, as well. The class got extra quiet, as did the three staff members who were in there at the time...

I know there are other things and I will post as I remember (and one I can't post, as hard as I've tried), but for right now, I hope you can at least have a smile.