For My Failures I Am Thankful

Through some of the most bizarre happenings, difficult situations, and unlikely actions, somehow life seems to bring the most amazing gifts at the most unexpected times, in the most inconceivable ways.

I realize many of you don't share my faith and this is in no way an attempt to persuade you to believe as I believe, but rather a proclamation of my feelings, my beliefs, and how my walk in this world has been affected by my own actions and my belief of how The One I put my inner most faith in used unfathomable circumstances to guide me, keep me safe, and better my life. Speaking for myself, this is Thanksgiving, realization, and healing. This is therapy for me, and perhaps for just one individual that may be reading the words typed within this post, perhaps encouragement that they too are capable of great change and the ability to set themselves free of the shackles as I feel I have. 

Because of a Willie Nelson concert I met a man. The marriage was short, and horrible, but I was given a beautiful daughter that was an answer to a life long prayer down to the color of her green eyes, her smile, and the curl of her hair. 

Through a second, short, tumultuous relationship, I was blessed with an incredible son. He's handsome, intelligent, funny, with staunch convictions and a smile and laugh that could light the world.

Due to my troubled past God sent me the love of my life, to guide me, teach me, to be a true father for my two small kidlets, and the opportunity to build a wonderful, eventful, life together.

Through the misfortune of others I gained more miraculous children that forever changed my life.

Through the rape of one of my daughters we gained an amazing grand son. He's caring, so very smart, driven, and a genuine humanitarian. Just to think of him makes my heart overflow with joy and awe.

Through the death of a grand son I gained an opportunity to prioritize the truly important from things much less so. Not only witnessing my grand son's fight to die, but watching my child as she watched her child die, was agonizing but taught me we only see the dark threads and knots beneath the tapestry being created, One day we shall see the importance those dark threads and knots made in the completion, and beauty, of the finished masterpiece.

Through the death of my mother I gained a much needed relationship with my father, heart felt admissions and apologies, true, unconditional love, answers to the unanswered, and getting a better grip on the fact, that while in no way perfect, my parents did the best they could with the hands they had been dealt. For that I am thankful. It gave me the room to realize no parent is ever capable of doing everything right even though, generally, our intentions are to do so, but life sometimes gets in the way. I should re-phrase that, life always gets in the way and we all deviate from our paths. That doesn't make us worse than, it makes us human.

It allowed me to see, to know, my parents were in fact human, humans make mistakes and bad choices. Even when our intentions are good, there is not one of us that escapes failure. Through those last 13 months alone with my father, I came to know they did their best, and that is all I could ever ask. The good far outweighs the bad. I choose to remember, and cherish, the good, from the bad I choose to learn.

Seeing my granddaughter, delivered alive at 24 weeks, lying on a table, purple and lifeless, surrounded by a team attempting to keep her alive, set off a string of events I was unable to put together until recently. Her early birth was the trigger that brought flashbacks that ultimately sent me over the edge.

Because of the effects of unspeakable, and tremendous, past trauma, and my self destruction, I lost the ones I loved most. I was weak. I broke.

Through the seeming failure of a more than 2 decade marriage, and separation from my mate, I gained clarity.

Through the relationship with a grifter I gained self worth, self reliance and the ability to face, and heal from, the PTSD that heavily contributed to the failure of the marriage to my one, true, love.

What I gained from my relationship with the grifter is really what I would like to address in this post. I gained much more than I lost, and am so thankful that even though in the eyes of the world I appeared to willingly walk into the den of the devil, in reality I was set free from his talons, and bestowed with great gifts I could have never received otherwise.

I was kept isolated in a way that allowed me to reflect on my path, my mistakes, my choices, both good and bad, in the course of my life.

I was able to clearly see my part in the destruction of the relationship with my best friend.

I was shown the way I contributed to some of the actions of my true, God given, husband, that drove me from him, and him from me. For that I take ownership.

I was allowed to feel, to experience, how I made the other half of my soul feel when I shut him down by fleeing my inner demons, the experiences that haunted my subconscious mind and led to my implosion, and that of my family.

I was given quietness, the time, the insight, to see how horribly I failed, in so many ways, as a parent, as a wife, and as a friend. I also realized the opposite as well. I was reminded countless times of how I had changed patterns of my parents and did wonderful things for my family, although in many areas I did fail them, myself, and my spouse. No parent is perfect, not one. I am thankful I was given the opportunity to see how my insecurities, and events I kept buried deep within, led to an unhealthy co-dependency with some of my children that placed burdens on them that were not theirs to carry. That cannot be undone, only learned from.

My life was emptied, some by my choice, some by their choice, of those that weighed me down and kept me from growing. By doing so I was able to bloom myself and realize I had the ability to analyze, realize, grow, and change my thought patterns, my self destructive ways, and become the person, I believe, God intended me to be. I came to know the difference in needing and wanting people and material items.

I was given the courage to face my downfalls, see my failures, make amends when possible, ask for forgiveness, and realize that everything happens for a reason, and sometimes that reason is that we are stupid, blind, and make bad decisions.

I was able to learn that I was, and am,  responsible for myself. I have the power within my being to remain the same or to change. I choose change and bettering myself for my husband and for my family, but most of all for myself. For if I cannot be willing to change for myself, I will only fail spectacularly again. Failure is inevitable, without failure there can be no growth. Learning from failure is optional, and I choose to learn.

I'm reminded of the quote of Thomas Edison, "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." I will use my failures to learn what doesn't work, what should not be repeated, and not to be ashamed of them. My failures are what made me who I am today. Without them, without this past three years, I honestly don't see how I could have made the personal progress I have made.

Besides being led back to my one true love, with a much deeper respect, love, and relationship, I was also, through that seemingly bad relationship choice, given the gift of friendship, new friends that have become family, the ability to realize, and separate, the wheat from the chaff, and knowing, seeing, feeling the changes in, and around my life.

How could I possibly be anything but thankful?


Most sincerely,

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The Journey

As I laid sleeping in bed yesterday morning, buried beneath fluffy down comforters and my head between pillows of the same, my slumber was interrupted by a voice. I struggled to pull myself from a deep state of sleep attempting to comprehend, not only the voice I was hearing, but the words that were being spoken at such an early hour.

As I turned, and adjusted the pillows, I recognized a soothing voice from the past and as I realized the words being spoken had been written centuries ago my spirit calmed. It seemed as if I snuggled into my cocoon more deeply and a peace fell over me as I listened to the words of the first chapter of Ephesians being read aloud by a man I fell in love with 29 years ago.

So strange is the journey of life with it's twists and turns, peaks and valleys, that to think of trying to convey to another the tale of how the best friend I have ever had and I went through glorious, unforgettable times, into the pits of hell, only to return to each other with a deepened respect, much more wise, and the realizations we have both come to understand, is daunting to say the least.

I am, as is he, still attempting to come to grips with the fact that our last few years have brought us so much closer than could have ever before been imagined. I get the fact that many people only know my side of the story, or his side of the story, and are unwilling to even accept the fact that this is our journey, not theirs, and that we have both acknowledged our individual actions that caused the other to unravel.

Most are well meaning, but ignorant, a few are down right mean spirited and spiteful. When  people see only the suffering of one, they naturally side with the one they have witnessed first hand. What few understand is that the other suffered as well. The people that witnessed the after math with me are skeptical, as are the ones that witnessed the aftermath with him. When everything is put on a scale the weight of pain is pretty much equal.

The last several years we were both put into situations that forced us to learn how to be alone. We were able to step away from the fire and see which matches we each lit, and how we ignited the destruction of the other.

When that happened the door to the future could be opened. What began as a deal to save our family home has only proven we were only apart to learn what we needed to learn so that we could come back bigger and better than before.

Yesterday I had a several hour tattoo session with a man we are both honored to call out friend. We've known him for at least a decade. He knew us before the spiral, he knew us. He has no agenda, as many appear to. It was good. He and I were alone for the 3 hour session and were able to really talk.

It was awesome to hear his genuine, honest, thoughts on the situation at hand. He saw it coming, he knew everything, yet he loves us both. He said we needed time apart to regroup, that he knew we always belonged together. He reiterated several times how happy he was that we were back, how he saw how happy we both are and we were meant to be, "just like in the beginning." I was amazed at his ability to stand before me knowing the total, and complete truth, and tell me we were made for each other.

Mind you, this is a man that knows both sides and is wise enough to basically say, "forgot those other people. They have no clue." He is also one that saw me at my lowest. He said, "Teri, this is a new chapter. People can get on board or they can get the f^@k out of your lives. This is your life, not theirs, and they need to mind their own business. The past is past. If they can't get over it, it's their problem not yours."

My friend, if you should happen to read this, know that you are, with out a doubt, one of the very few, perhaps the only, that was wise enough to allow us to be complete and total idiots, and truly be happy we are now one again. You see the big picture, and we love you for that.

xoxo

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Behold A Pale Horse

"And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him."

I'm not sure what it is, the frail voice that was once strong and filled concert halls, his ability to continue to play his instrument as if it were an appendage, the words he'd written, his journey in life, or maybe I gravitate to the pain, the hurt, and triumphs expressed in his lyrical wanderings.

Something has drawn me to the music written in the last years of his life, many in the last three months of which his Creator allowed him breath. It's held me together when I felt nothing else could. It's comforted me when there was no solace, only unanswered questions.

I close my eyes and listen. I listen to the haunting bass-baritone voice and am able to discern his good days from his bad days. I listen to him beautifully manipulate the strings of his well worn guitar. I allow myself to feel the pain in his soul, as well as the joy in having made peace with the paths he chose to follow throughout his 71 years on this Earth.

I listen to his voice daily, closing my eyes and I am able to put myself in the midst of the verses so beautifully sang. Many I can identify with. Many remind of my life and how I chose one path over another.

Maybe it's his confidence I lean on, that I feel emanating from him,  that I yearn for. Whatever it is, I shall continue to listen, most likely several times a day.  Maybe I'll find what I'm searching for, maybe not, but he gives me hope and strength when none is to be found.

Even in death, he has the ability to bring emotion to people that have buried it so deeply, hoping never to feel it again. His words are able to bring life, pain, torment, and joy together to knit a beautiful piece, a proxy, for the Rock on which some of us stand.






 

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Lessons

I think one of the best things about being a mom is seeing joy and excitement in the faces of my kids. Not over game boys, cell phones or iPods, but when they light up over things that we, as adults, seem to overlook more times than not.
Several weeks ago the kids noticed that robins had made nests on the support beam for our upper deck. From the middle deck that is outside of our office you can look up and see the mommy birds sitting on their perfectly formed nests. I came home a one day and the kids had discovered that if you peer through the openings between the slats on the upper deck you can look right into, and get a close-up view of, the nest and its contents. In one of the nests they saw five neatly arranged, speckled, light blues eggs.
Every day the kids would go out and spend hours taking turns on their hands and knees watching the eggs in hopes that they would see the baby robins breaking their way out. Today I had been out of the house most of the day when I got a text from Nikki. I could see her radiant smile as I read her words "Mom, the babies have hatched!" I know her well enough to know that she was jumping up and down while she was texting me.
As soon as I walked in the front door I was mobbed by kids. "Mom, come see our babies!" I didn't want to look at ugly little creatures. I didn't want to kneel down on a dirty deck while wearing white pants. I didn't want to do anything but pour a glass of iced tea and check my e-mail. One look at their faces and I knew what had to be done. I was going to have to get on my hands and knees and, with one eye, look through a quarter inch gap between the boards to see new hatchlings.
I'm glad I did. There they were, three fuzzy-headed, open-mouthed babies nestled between two un-hatched siblings. The kids were right, it was amazing. The birds, well they were ugly little birds, but the excitement of the kids for being able to share with me their discovery was priceless. I know that soon it will happen again. In the garage there is a cooler filled with rain water and probably 30 tadpoles and in Jeremiah's room is a container with a praying mantis egg pod waiting to burst open with around 200 praying mantis babies.
Summer at our house is always a time of discovery. There are baby bunnies, fawns, insects, and birds. We'll go to Cannon Beach and search the tide pools finding colorful starfish, crabs and darting fish. We'll go to Seaside for the culinary discoveries of salt water taffy, huge ice cream cones and elephant ears. We'll go to the lake house to discover what being a family was like before TV's cell phones and Nintendo. I think I may just discover more than the kids this summer when they remind me what the really important things in life are: kids, smiles, compassion and joy. Hopefully this time around I won't soon forget their lessons.

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