What I miss vs. what I don't

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I've been missing my sweetie a lot more this week than last.  Maybe the second week is when the my reality for the next three months has really sunk in.  Maybe I'm just not as busy as the first week of house showings.  Maybe it's because my kids have been moodier this week.  Maybe it's just the full moon...

I even tried to think for a while today about the things I don't miss while he's not here, and here's the list I've come up with so far:

1. Having to clean up after a grown up other than myself.  Darrell is great about a lot of things.  He always puts his dirty laundry in the hamper.  He always puts the toilet seat AND lid down.  He's generally a pretty organized guy (better than I am, really).  BUT there are things he just won't do, chief among them putting his dirty dishes into the dishwasher.  He leaves clutter out until he has time to organize it.  He creates more mess just by living here, and he is after all the largest person in our household.
2. Cooking as often.  Darrell hates leftovers.  Without him here, I'm making meals the same size, but we are eating on them longer.  The other night, I made so much chicken and dumplings, that despite it being my kids' favorite meal and them both going back for seconds, I filled two large leftover containers and still had some left in the bottom of the crock pot.  I called our dog Lexi in to finish it off.  Now, I was sorry for it the next day, but we won't get into that.

I've tried to add to this list, but every time I come up with another positive about him not being here, it doesn't really ring true.  I think many women would add getting the bed to themselves.  That was nice for a few nights, but between Lexi taking up as much space as Darrell does and just plain missing knowing he is so close by, I'd give up having the whole bed again in an instant.

Most might say they are happy to have nights without snoring, but Darrell has always snored.  I've had to crank up the white noise in order to sleep without him here.  I guess his snoring is my white noise, and strangely enough, I miss it.

I miss having someone to talk to about the mundane stuff, but at the same time I find myself not wanting to talk about the mundane stuff when we talk on the phone.  I have too many important things to tell him about house showings, relocation stuff, the kids, etc.  I don't want to discuss the weather or even the new guys he is meeting at his new job.

And I know he misses the kids and I just as much, but I really don't want to give him credit for that.  I want him to rush home sooner every Friday afternoon.  I want him to leave later every Sunday.  I want him to tell me how much he loves me, even though I already know.  I want the man who makes me feel safer than anything else in this world to be here, with me, every day.

God's Plan?

Do you ever wonder which parts of your life are God's plan versus which parts he's redeemed after your poor decisions?  Or maybe it's just me.  Because I sincerely believe that God has a plan for each of us.  But I also sincerely believe that he gives us the free will to screw it all up, and that we're often pretty good at that.

As I was busy organizing every spec of my house recently in order to get it "show ready" to sell, I came across my old high school diary.  I started reading it, and was reminded of a fifteen to seventeen-year-old girl I wouldn't recognize as me today.  My sophomore year of high school was quite apparently the year of boyfriends.  I had a few other boyfriends in high school, but my sophomore year I went from being "in love" with one boy one week, to another the following week, to another the next month, and sadly, I was the one who broke up with every single one of them (don't worry, another guy dumped me later on to teach me a lesson in heartache coming from the other direction).  Actually, I think one of them actually broke up with me but made me feel like I was doing the breaking up, smart guy!  But essentially, I was one flighty, fickle mess of a young girl.  It was also the year of the one and only B I earned in high school, probably not a coincidence now that I think about it.  I was even considering giving the diary to my own daughter, now a freshman in high school, but now think it might be best to wait until she gets through that phase herself, if she has to experience it.

All this to say, I don't think Darrell would have even been attracted to me then.  I was way too busy trying to act like a ditz to get guys to like me, and it was working out pretty well for me, actually.  When guys didn't realize I was a geek, they seemed to like me more.  I could never have planned for and met Darrell at just the right time all by myself.  I'm absolutely confident that God had the biggest part in bringing us together at just the right time.  And there are so many other things he worked out for me, like:  getting pregnant on virtually the first try after thinking we might not be able to; keeping that same little girl safe at two years old when a garage door closed on her torso (not even a bruise!); putting friends in just the right places in our lives; and so much more, even down to little details like a friend or family member calling at just the right time, or me calling them at just the right time when something was needed.

But there are things that I don't really believe God directly did for us, even though they happened just the same.  I don't think God healed Darrell from Hodgkin's Lymphoma anymore than I believe that he gave it to him in the first place.  Chemo and radiation healed him. 

I doubt that God's plan was for us to move so many times, but at the same time I know he's used each of those moves in our lives in a good way.  In hindsight, it always looks like a plan.  And for me, being a control freak by nature, that's important.  It gives me comfort not only knowing that God has a plan, but knowing that he can also "fix it" when we don't follow him as exactly as we should.

This life is about listening for the direction God wants us to take, but at the same time it's absolutely not about being frozen in inaction waiting for his direction.  My approach is to pray and listen, but also to keep moving forward with my life.  I don't live with regrets, at least not to this point in my life.  Sure, I've made mistakes.  I've caused countless hurts, some of which I'm sure I don't even know about.  But haven't we all?  So, let's keep listening, but also keep moving forward.

A piece of me... A piece of him...

What binds two people is a little strange to me sometimes.  I think about the things that attracted me to and keep me with Darrell, and they often don't make much logical sense.  And just when I think our lives are about as woven together as they can be, something else combines them more.

One of the first few times I visited Darrell's parents' home, we all went to visit his Nana and ate a meal at her maple kitchen table.  It was a beautiful but basic table that had these neat leaves that slid out on each end, and she had a special mat that fit the entire table that she would fold up when it was time to eat.  It was one of the first pieces of furniture she and her husband had purchased, probably made sometime in the late 1930s.  To this day, I can't tell you why, but I immediately liked that table, and Darrell seemed to appreciate it, too.

Several years later, Darrell's Nana passed away.  She had cancer at the same time as Darrell, so we didn't even get to see her those last few months.  I don't think we specifically asked for it, but a few years after that Darrell's parents gave us her table, as well as a bedroom set.  The bedroom set has had a home in either our daughter's room or the guest bedroom ever since, but the table is what holds a special place in my heart.

It came to us rather worn.  Sometime in those few years after his Nana passed but before it came to us, the table had been marked, grooved, and just generally worn.  Darrell's mom did a quick refinishing job before bringing it to us, but it was done in a hurry, in damp weather.  So, the table had just a shadow of it's former beauty.  Soon after getting the table, our daughter was born.  We talked about refinishing it, but really, what was the point while our kids were small?

Lots of busy days passed, and that table saw all of them.  It's where the kids would eat once they so quickly outgrew a high chair.  It's one of few places the four of us have ever prayed all together.  It's witnessed countles board games over the years, and been privvy to more family discussions than I can count.  It's moved with us.  It and our dining room furniture was the only furniture on our main floor that our dog didn't chew and our cats didn't scratch.  The table and it's four chairs also took on many additional abrasions from our growing kids.  All without complaint.

About a year ago, I suddenly had a lot less work to do as my small business was folding.  So, I made plans for several projects around the house.  The one that I didn't realize would be the biggest was to finally refinish our kitchen table and chairs.  I began before the kids were out of school for the summer, and for weeks on end, it was essentially my part time job.  I sanded every creviss, using two different power sanders, a dremel, and sand paper by hand when needed.  I asked friends for advice, searched online, and visited a local shop to learn about the best product to use for refinishing.  I knew that I wanted the maple to show through, but had no idea what product to use. 

The local shop I visited recommended Waterlox, with the simple selling point being a great looking finish but a product that you could touch up easily years later without refinishing it all over again.  Ahh, but this product would require a lot of coats, four to be exact.  And hand sanding between each finish coat.

If ever I've shown a piece of furniture emotion, it's that table.  It's the first thing I've promised the kids would be in our will, and I've explained to them in detail how much I expect whichever one gets it to cherish it.  I've literally put a piece of me into that table.  Which seems fitting, since it is an antique from Darrell's family.  Now, it is an integral piece of our story, just one more thread that binds us together.  And I have a happy vision of our kids telling their grandchildren about this table someday, of it witnessing many more intimate family moments.

--Before--

 

--In Process Pics--

 

--Putting it back together with Darrell's help--

 --Finally done--