I returned home to discover a new round of troubles. A letter from the Sheriff - an actual warrant for failure to pay my state taxes to be paid in full this next month - or what? I guess I will be arrested for being poor. My biggest fear as a child was passing the "poor house" in Cincinnati - I knew that was where people went who couldn't pay for their livelihood so they had to live and work there. I was afraid I would somehow end up there. Wow, I guess that is how my life is turning out. I'm so poor that I can't pay my bills. I can't even afford to eat. I have some stuff stocked up here in the house so I am okay at the moment but still....
In addition, the gauges in my car have finally stopped working. I have to do something about that because I can't go driving anywhere without knowing how fast I am going or whether or not the gas tank is full....Now that I can put on the credit card. Yeah, I know, that sounds like a delay but my mother will pay that bill for me. I owe her so much when this house finally sells.
About that, it has stalled out. The garage has to be re-built, and now, with bringing all the stuff back from Kentucky, I have to re-arrange the inside of the house and get it show ready once again. I just feel as though I am at a total loss - plus, am I looking at being taken to jail?
I will call the Sheriff's office on Monday - with dread and trepidation in my heart - but I really don't know how to come up with that kind of money in one lump sum.
Also, He was in Mass this morning - not his usual time at all - which is why I get up and go early. Anyway, he was alone and I didn't keel over but he went up for communion. What has happened?? Has he finally gone to confession? Has he sent the girl back overseas? (She obviously wasn't in church with him.) I just don't know. Anyway, I am in serious need of prayers. Help me, Lord.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Monday, July 21, 2014
Dealing With My Life
Setting Operation:My Town in motion required that I enlist some support. I started calling in the cavalry. Seriously, I sent my post to friends - both far and near - and asked for help. I know, I know. I'm the original "I can do it myself" personality. I realized that this was just too big for me to handle alone. And, I have had wonderful friends invite me to dinner, stop over for coffee, and call to give me a "pep" talk from as far away as France! God decided I REALLY needed help!
Now, here's another shocker. I have a man, 14 years my junior, who asked me out to dinner. He thinks I'm beautiful and only two years older than himself. Yeah, I tried to correct him and he wouldn't hear me out. Anyway, I had to have the "I have a civil divorce but I'm still married in the eyes of the Church talk". Said he still wanted to be around me so I countered with "I have to discuss this with my priest".
So, after I went down and gathered all of my belongings in Kentucky (which I loaded up in my car all by myself) - and then unloaded - all by myself, I decided that I needed to go have a talk with Father. Yep, you guessed it. He responded with, "Meet me in the confessional"!Well, on my way to the confessional, my tire went flat - not just a little bit flat, all the way to the ground, no way it's going to hold air, flat. Fortunately, a state trooper stopped, then a city policeman, and I had company until the AAA guy arrived. Do I need to state that the one civilian who stopped was Him? The one person that I did NOT want to see - yeah, my ex. I didn't have my panic meds with me and I proceeded to have a bit of a meltdown in the officer's patrol car. The officer was awesome and I don't think that my ex realized anything. So, several hours later, and two new tires later (my spare was flat, too) - I finally returned home - unable to see Father that day. I was shaky, near tears, and that younger male friend called to check on me - he ended up stopping by right after work for 10 minutes just to give me a much-needed hug.
Next morning, there I am, at the confessional - 10 days after my last confession. I went through everything with Father - having to move out, my new friend, the flat tires, the meltdown, etc, etc, etc. All the way through the hug and being asked out to dinner. Truly, after having felt so strong, that had dissipated and I was a mess. But I was gathering my strength once again to head out East to help take care of my daughter and her two little girls because she had called and asked me to come. Father blessed me and told me that I really had nothing to confess this time.
Shocking, I know. He told me to sit on the porch and have a beer with my friend - go out and have dinner. Told me that I wasn't the one doing anything to not receive communion for because I'm not the one who walked out on the marriage - he knows my values and morals - said I deserved a hug now and then (Father gives me hugs every Sunday). I've had quite the long discussion with my friend - he says it sucks but he'd rather be around me as a friend than not at all. So, we have to find him a woman to date.
Because I'm still moving when my house sells. I have a plan.
Now, here's another shocker. I have a man, 14 years my junior, who asked me out to dinner. He thinks I'm beautiful and only two years older than himself. Yeah, I tried to correct him and he wouldn't hear me out. Anyway, I had to have the "I have a civil divorce but I'm still married in the eyes of the Church talk". Said he still wanted to be around me so I countered with "I have to discuss this with my priest".
So, after I went down and gathered all of my belongings in Kentucky (which I loaded up in my car all by myself) - and then unloaded - all by myself, I decided that I needed to go have a talk with Father. Yep, you guessed it. He responded with, "Meet me in the confessional"!Well, on my way to the confessional, my tire went flat - not just a little bit flat, all the way to the ground, no way it's going to hold air, flat. Fortunately, a state trooper stopped, then a city policeman, and I had company until the AAA guy arrived. Do I need to state that the one civilian who stopped was Him? The one person that I did NOT want to see - yeah, my ex. I didn't have my panic meds with me and I proceeded to have a bit of a meltdown in the officer's patrol car. The officer was awesome and I don't think that my ex realized anything. So, several hours later, and two new tires later (my spare was flat, too) - I finally returned home - unable to see Father that day. I was shaky, near tears, and that younger male friend called to check on me - he ended up stopping by right after work for 10 minutes just to give me a much-needed hug.
Next morning, there I am, at the confessional - 10 days after my last confession. I went through everything with Father - having to move out, my new friend, the flat tires, the meltdown, etc, etc, etc. All the way through the hug and being asked out to dinner. Truly, after having felt so strong, that had dissipated and I was a mess. But I was gathering my strength once again to head out East to help take care of my daughter and her two little girls because she had called and asked me to come. Father blessed me and told me that I really had nothing to confess this time.
Shocking, I know. He told me to sit on the porch and have a beer with my friend - go out and have dinner. Told me that I wasn't the one doing anything to not receive communion for because I'm not the one who walked out on the marriage - he knows my values and morals - said I deserved a hug now and then (Father gives me hugs every Sunday). I've had quite the long discussion with my friend - he says it sucks but he'd rather be around me as a friend than not at all. So, we have to find him a woman to date.
Because I'm still moving when my house sells. I have a plan.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Operation: My Town
Okay, last week, my soul walked a path of devastation. I received news that my (ex) husband was bringing his overseas girlfriend here - to my town - for the summer. First, they are going on family vacation with our nieces, nephews, and my in-laws to Tennessee - then, they will be here. I am stuck here until the garage is repaired and I can get this house on the market. I thought, well, I can deal with this, because then I can leave and go back to Kentucky. I'm still waiting for the insurance to come through so I can get moving on the garage but I did start sorting and trying to figure out what was fine and what was totally lost in the mess. Then, I received the phone call requesting that I remove my things from Kentucky and return to Indiana - for good. Ah, yes, I am, in fact, the red-headed stepchild.
So, I cried in my beer (all 1-2 bottles of it per night - I'm a lightweight) and I reached out to people. I saw friends whom I haven't seen in years and I poured out my pain. And, they supported me. Shock. Me, the one who had felt so unworthy and so lost. I haven't had a migraine all week in the midst of this. That, in itself, is amazing. I even had one of my former students come stay with me and help me out in that garage for two days. I went to early mass on Sunday and went out for coffee with one of my friend's husbands. We had such a good talk - and then, when I returned, I asked Father if I could see him for a few minutes and he said, "Sure, meet me in the confessional". Meet me in the confessional. A few years ago that would have brought on fear and trembling - couldn't handle going to confession - another stressor. Now, meet me in the confessional - sure, why not? It's such a "Catholic" thing to do. So, I did. I went to meet Father in the confessional. I told him about my week. I gave it all to Jesus. I received my penance.
In the midst of my penance, this "thought" came to me. You were once the "crime-watch lady" back when my children were little in another town. I was fierce. I reclaimed the neighborhood so our children could play in peace and not be bullied. This is MY town. I have lived here longer than anywhere else in my life. Why have I become the agoraphobic? Why have I been driven to live only in my tiny little space? So, beginning today, I'm reclaiming my neighborhood. my town. I won't be bullied this summer. Operation: My Town begins.
So, I cried in my beer (all 1-2 bottles of it per night - I'm a lightweight) and I reached out to people. I saw friends whom I haven't seen in years and I poured out my pain. And, they supported me. Shock. Me, the one who had felt so unworthy and so lost. I haven't had a migraine all week in the midst of this. That, in itself, is amazing. I even had one of my former students come stay with me and help me out in that garage for two days. I went to early mass on Sunday and went out for coffee with one of my friend's husbands. We had such a good talk - and then, when I returned, I asked Father if I could see him for a few minutes and he said, "Sure, meet me in the confessional". Meet me in the confessional. A few years ago that would have brought on fear and trembling - couldn't handle going to confession - another stressor. Now, meet me in the confessional - sure, why not? It's such a "Catholic" thing to do. So, I did. I went to meet Father in the confessional. I told him about my week. I gave it all to Jesus. I received my penance.
In the midst of my penance, this "thought" came to me. You were once the "crime-watch lady" back when my children were little in another town. I was fierce. I reclaimed the neighborhood so our children could play in peace and not be bullied. This is MY town. I have lived here longer than anywhere else in my life. Why have I become the agoraphobic? Why have I been driven to live only in my tiny little space? So, beginning today, I'm reclaiming my neighborhood. my town. I won't be bullied this summer. Operation: My Town begins.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
I'm Back
I'm back. Not because I wanted to be - the garage burned.
So not only do I have fire damage, but I have water damage. And, according to the realtor, until everything is taken care of, I can't put the house on the market so I am here for an indefinite amount of time. Not a happy camper. I truly have a lot of work to do.
That doesn't even scratch the surface of the other emotional baggage that I will be dealing with this summer. I am wanting to shake my fist up at the heavens and ask how much more must I deal with but that honestly isn't how I deal with things. I went and had dinner and a beer with good friends tonight and spilled my guts. I will immerse myself in Korean music (no memories in that) and, if I need to cry, then I will cry. I've already called all of my children and talked to my big brother. Tomorrow, I will try to lose myself in the tasks at hand. And not think.
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