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.