Good at Hiding

On the day I was born, no one knew I was in the womb. I've always been good at hiding.

My twin sister's heartbeat and my own were in such sync, I wasn't expected.  There were no ultrasounds and Mom wasn't awake for the ordeal.  I've been told when she came to and found herself responsible for TWO babies, she cried.  My grandmother screamed for joy.  My father received word over radio in Vietnam and had to ask twice if the man said "daughters" plural.

I can't really blame being hidden in the womb for how the next decades played out, but it does seem conspicuous.  If I sense disappointing someone--I run for cover.  I play dumb or do my best to keep the uncomfortable subject from surfacing. Hiding is a destructive relationship killer.

Truth is always better.  Though not always fun.

I've hidden in the worst ways--lies, false pretense, blame, self-contempt. And although playing a game of Hide-and-Seek can be thrilling; life plays that game differently.  So I'm trying to come clean: attempting not to run when faced with a scary situation; admitting the lie before it festers; sharing truth before pretense gets center stage; and refusing to blame or engage in self-contempt.

It's terrifying.  Like when your stomach lurches because you know IT is close enough to find you.  After awhile you start longing to be found so you can crawl out of your cramped hiding spot.  When IT eventually finds you there's a sense of relief; you're free to laugh and help search for others.

I hope I won't always be good at hiding. I think I'd like to be IT.

Comfort

 

I'm strumming fingers waiting on my slow computer.  I'm not angry.  I know how it is to try to process loads of information with little time to do it.  I feel as though I've been in overdrive for the last three months.  Next week my kids are going to a little thing my Mom calls, Cousin Camp.  They go on field trips, make art, and eat amazing meals.  My Mom designates a day per kid (fortunately there's only five grandkids) to pick what they want for breakfast, lunch and supper.  She has it all ready when they arrive. Yes, I know--it's amazing.  (I did NOT inherit her genes of cooking or organization.  I think it skipped right over me and onto my daughters.)

But what that means for me, is one week of quiet to process my thoughts.  Raging thoughts full of loss, hope and meaning.  I'm warily looking forward to it.  I'll miss my kids but I know I need solitude.

I created the above painting for a Pastor friend. There's something about it that's comforting to me; I hope it will be for you too.

Truth Thursdays: I'm Back, Sort of

Thank you for all your sweet words, my blogging friends.  The break was needed.  I don't know yet how often I'll be posting but I'm inching back.  Truth Thursdays seemed a good place to start.  Here are my truths today:

• I'm taking the daughter of my sweet friend with me to Harry Potter tonight at midnight. I can't help feeling my friend will be there with us.
• Our vacation was healing on so many levels.  Standing before the ocean reminded me of the bigger picture.  Being with my family, away from the bustle of life was needed.
• I've found it difficult to paint recently.  But my journal is full.
• I'm a Potter-maniac.  I'll be getting in line at 4:00 this afternoon to snag great seats since our spots in the theater are not assigned.  Yes, I'm crazy.  That's eight hours before the movie.  What can I say?
• My children are Potter-crazed too.  My eldest is making Pumpkin Pasties and Butter Beer (like Root Beer) for everyone to snack on.  The girls created Love Potion necklaces.  I'll post pictures if given permission--they're adorable!  My son is a Draco look-alike and he'll be dressing up like him (maybe I can sneak pics of that too!).