14 Years Together

"We were together.  I forget the rest".  Walt Whitman

This last weekend Derrick and I went out of town for our anniversary, as we try to do every year.  The last four years we have went to Whitefish for our anniversary, so this year we decided to shake it up and go to Spokane instead.

The one commonality of our anniversaries throughout the years have been the monochromatic way the December sky decides to present itself.  As we headed out of town on Friday, it looked as though we were heading into the usual grey but happy weekend, but somewhere around the middle of Saturday, the clouds opened up and gave us blue skies.  They stuck around for the rest of our time out of town, and even now it is blue skies and sunny.

This was one of my personal favorite anniversary trips.  Our motel was really close to downtown Spokane, so we pretty much walked to most of the places we wanted to go throughout the weekend.  There was the usual shopping that goes along with a trip to Spokane, but we spent a lot of time walking, hanging out in our room (which was very nice), and going to some of the fun restaurants and pubs in downtown Spokane.

I love anniversary weekends.  We always make the effort to have that weekend to ourselves, and without fail we have the best discussions together of our year.

We talked about getting older, and our fears we have attached to it.  My fear (as I'm sure it is for a lot of people), is that of being devalued as a person by society.  Derrick's is mostly just the fear of being sickly or not being able to do what he once did.  Other than that, he's looking forward to being a cranky old man with no pressure from society to follow rules.  He's preparing for a reign of obnoxiousness :)  Getting old wouldn't be so bad as long as I could do it with him, because I know he will always see me as I really am.  Hopefully, though, we will never have to get old.

Of course (!) we talked about the kids.  Like most parents, we talk about them a lot.  You know how when you love someone, all conversations have a way of leading to that person?  That principle must apply to parents with their children.  Our hopes and dreams for them equal and surpass the hopes and dreams for ourselves.  The sum of our kid conversations are mostly how to keep them safe and sound but also give the tools and freedom to create happiness and dreams for themselves.  As they get older, we are seeing what a tricky road this may be.  We will just have to try our best, like our parents did for us.

We talked about our longstanding dream too, and decided it's time to make our trip to Europe a reality.  We saved for a trip we are going to take later this winter, and realized that if we are careful, saving for travel doesn't have to be crazy hard (as long as nothing too extreme happens in the meantime).  It might not be an immediate trip, but just knowing we are in the process of making it happen is a happy thought.

Fourteen years is a long time to be married.  We've had plenty of growing pains, and lots of wonderful times too.  We've been through a scary pregnancy and birth where Derrick almost lost both Derrin and me.  We've parented babies, toddlers, little kids, big kids and now teenagers together, with all of the struggles and joys that entails.  We've been through cancer in our family and the loss of a parent together.  We've battled depression and health issues together.  We've had the opportunity to travel to far away places we'd never been before together.  We've build a house and home together.  We've decorated the inside of our marriage with love.

Tunnel of Love...

Love the lyrics to this, just so true for all of us... some days more than others.

Fat man sitting on a little stool

Takes the money from my hand while his eyes take a walk all over you
Hands me the ticket smiles and whispers good luck
Cuddle up angel cuddle up my little dove
Well ride down baby into this tunnel of love

I can feel the soft silk of your blouse
And them soft thrills in our little fun house
Then the lights go out and it's just the three of us
You me and all that stuff were so scared of
Gotta ride down baby into this tunnel of love

There's a crazy mirror showing us both in 5-d
Im laughing at you you're laughing at me
There's a room of shadows that gets so dark brother
Its easy for two people to lose each other in this tunnel of love

It ought to be easy ought to be simple enough
Man meets woman and they fall in love
But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough
And youve got to learn to live with what you can't rise above if you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love

Musical People

The sun is actually shining out there this morning!  Having a very difficult time accepting that I am going to be a grown-up and make myself go to work, where I will be in an office  instead of outside playing.  Oh-well, there will still be sunshine when I get home later (there better be!!!).

I went a little dark  in here yesterday.  I thought I'd counter it with something I've been wanting to write down for awhile.  I want to start writing more stories about my parents' lives- the happy stuff.  Someday I am going to print it all out and give it to my kids.

The last time I saw Dad, he started talking about the piano that he has in his storage shed.  It's the same piano that was always in the family house in Paradise, right at the bottom of the stairs.  Mom could play the guitar, accordion and the piano. Out of the three, the piano was her favorite.  When they moved out of Paradise, the piano never made it into their new place; it was just too big for their downsized home.  I don't think I ever heard Mom play again after they moved, which was sad because she played beautifully. 

Dad was talking about that piano, and about how he wants to have it restored and retuned.  He isn't a big talker- he's not the kind of guy who will sit you down and tell you his whole life story in one sitting.  He lets little gems slip out once in awhile though, and the back story behind the piano was one of those. 

The story starts with him, right after he first moved to Paradise to work at the railroad.  He was living in a little house on the property of my grandparents, right behind their family house.  He said that after work he would sit outside his little house and listen to that piano playing inside the big house.  He didn't know it yet, but it was my mom, her sister and her best friend in there.  It sounded like they were having fun- being silly and rowdy.  So, in a way, that piano was his first introduction to Mom, which for them was the most appropriate and perfect introduction I can think of. If there was ever a way to get his attention, is was through music (well, music or old cars, preferably of the model T variety).  It probably also didn't hurt that when he actually met her, she was a beauty.

Neither one of my parents were very big talkers, but they were both musicians and that was no small part of the communication in their relationship.  I remember them singing and playing together, Dad in the kitchen saying,"Hey Pat, what song is this?" and he'd start playing a song on his old Martin and singing (usually an old western) and soon she'd join in.  They knew all the words to the same old songs, and they would harmonize with each other.

I have a mandolin hanging on my wall- a gift of long ago from my mom to my dad, one of the first gifts she ever gave him.  They saved up for other instruments.  Back in the sixties they spent three hundred dollars for my mom's accordion- a fortune for them in those days.  It seems that whenever Dad shares a special memory about Mom, there is always music attached to it in some form.  It was such an important part of their story.

~Mom playing the piano at their wedding reception~

Beautiful Day

We went to Polson last Saturday and spent the day (and that night) with friends. We didn't have a tribal fishing license (everyone else was fishing), so we walked along the shore instead and shot some pictures (my actual preference really). No pictures of that night, but we played games until about 1:30 in the morning. I've never been a poker player, but I am a convert!!! So fun:) All in all, the weekend was beautiful.



Derrick scared the ducks for me:)





Mission Mountain Range



 







Other Parents and their youngins'



...Of a Tree Called Life...

This weekend was spent at home, staying quiet and spending time together.  Derrick tried to engage me in a game of chess, which I am a total novice at (but still almost beat him- haha!).  The rest of the time I was working on my painting/project.  I've been wanting to get this poem on my wall ever since my mom's funeral.  It will always remind me of her (not because it was a favorite of her's, but because of the sentiment expressed in it).  I like how it turned out:)


...of a tree called life



i carry your heart with me- by ee cummings



the watch and ear ring were both my momma's







My Momma, around age 17, playin' her guitar

Sweepy

I didn’t run today. I even went through all of the effort to go to Hastings and pick up some movies to run to. By the time I got home, made dinner and put the kiddies to bed I was too wiped out to run. It created a nice guilty pleasure to watch the movie while vegetating, so the idea of running was not a total waste.

I could not hack working full time. I mean, if I had to do it, I would. But I would not love it- it would be hard to take care of other important things (I didn't get to take the kids to guitar/drum lessons tonight either:'( )in my life. I can imagine what I look like to my friends who work full time as I go off on my shpills about the wonder of running, and all of it's benefits (like not being medicated to survive this thing called life). The only reason I have energy to run or any other self-care activity, is because I don’t get up at the crack of dawn every day with this crazy agenda pushing me out of the door for the next eight hours to work, and then to still do the mundane stuff I wrestle with doing everyday anyways- grocery shopping, cleaning stuff, laundry… Who in the world would feel like running after a day like that? Not that it couldn’t be done, but I’d have to toughen up considerably (not gonna happen this little full-time work stretch my friends). I am making a commitment to my couch this week that I shall love it more than my treadmill. HA! As if it didn't already know I love it best.

So tired. I think I’ll drag myself to bed now.

My Man

Right now I am sitting in beautiful silence, in front of a fireplace and surrounded by tall windows looking out over heaps of snow and hundreds of frosty trees.  Derrick is still in bed. I was planning on sleeping in for a long time today too, but it was just too tempting to creep downstairs and soak in the stillness. 

I love it up at  Big Mountain (I guess it's called Whitefish Ski Resort now).  We aren't even going to ski until tomorrow.  Having this place all to ourselves it too good leave it, for whatever reason.

Derrick just came down a little bit ago.  It's December 11th!  Eleven years ago today we were married, for better or worse.  I still can't believe that I was blessed with this person in my life.  He is everything that a man should be- strong, caring, sticks to his guns, does the best he can in every situation.  As a partner he has been so supportive and forgiving, willing to listen and work on himself and our relationship, to fight for our relationship during the hard times. He cares for people, and is willing to fight for anyone who he loves.

He has raised the bar for me, both in what I expect in myself and what I expect from men in general.  Having known a man like him, I find very little patience for other men I've known, who sit around and let the women do all of the emotional heavy work, or who refuse to carry their own weight in life.

I've witnessed Derrick's life for a long time- I've known him fourteen years now.  I've seen him as a young man, married and with a baby, trying to figure out how in the world to make ends meet.  I've seen him work for a rotten employer who treated him bad enought that he was willing to make a leap of faith (with his father) and start his own business.  For the last ten years I've watched him run that business, putting himself out there in a way that would scare me to death.  He does it all for us, for his family and the people he loves.

This has been an especially difficult year.  I've had to acknowledge some difficult facts about myself.  Derrick was there, holding the mirror for me, but also pointing out the good stuff in there in case I couldn't see it anymore.  He was there during the darkest hour of my life, he held me and let me cry more times than I can say.  He was my rock, my safe place, the place I could run to when I couldn't take how heavy the gravity of life had become.  He lets me keep living this moment to moment emotional life I have right now, riding the waves of sadness, but not letting me drown in it- and helping me recognise the happiness and love that we have in our life together.

He has been there for me in a million ways.  I am a very blessed woman, and he is right at the top of my blessings.

Things My Daughter Has Taught Me

My daughter, who is in kindergarden, has been bringing home little books lately. They are little books that she has authored especially for me. They cover various subjects such as our cat Anikan, our family, rainbows, flowers, fish, lizards and horses. She gives them to me as gifts, and they are precious.



After I get to look at them, she takes them from me and puts them on my bookshelf. They are books, after all, so they go on the shelf with all of my favorite books. She didn't ask me, she didn't wonder if her books belonged there. She KNEW. And guess what. She was RIGHT. They happen to be my new most favorite books.



My little beautiful 6 year old daughter is on to some lessons that I may have lost along the the way. Here are few that I have observed:



1. Creativity starts at step 1, not step 100. Go with it. If you want to be a writer, who cares if you don't know how to spell. Use the letters you know.



2. Give your art and poems away with love and gusto. Even when you know it's not perfect. It is perfect in it's imperfection.



3. Make sure you have lots of crayons and markers and paper. You can't create your art if you don't have the materials.



4. When you give your art or writings to the recipient, always let them know you were thinking of them during the creative process. It really does mean a lot.



5. Make sure you surround yourself with people who believe in you. Start with Mom.