I last left off with my anticipation about our upcoming trip to see my Mom and family for her birthday celebration. What a weekend that was to be!
Our drive was uneventful and we arrived around 8 PM. Around 11 PM (10 PM their time) Steven calls to tell us he arrived home to find a huge tree branch lying from our yard and extending out into the street. It completely blocked both lanes of the road. My heart sunk. I could just see us having to re-load everything and drive back home to deal with this. Fortunately, the city came and removed the entire branch, including what was in our yard. We were most appreciative to hear our tax dollars were at work. We were now able to enjoy our weekend with my family without worry. (I later learned our neighbors came out and trimmed the end of the branch off enough that people could drive through one lane past the tree. Steven was at work when it happened so they took care of it for us. We have good neighbors.)
We spent Friday in a whirlwind cleaning the house, cooking, moving Rubbermaid tubs (my Mom has a zillion of them!), and, my most favorite thing in the world ... mowing! I'm not kidding. I really and truly love mowing the lawn. Doesn't matter if it's a push mower or a riding mower. I love two things about mowing the lawn.
First, the smell reminds me of summers at my Grandparent's farm. My Grandfather baling hay. The sweet smell of sun-dried grass. Every time I smell cut grass I can relax into the love and happiness those memories bring.
The second thing I love about mowing the lawn is it fits my perfectionist trait, if you'll pardon the pun, perfectly! I love to watch as the wild and unkempt is conquered and made uniform. I guess it's the conformist in me really coming out, huh?
Late afternoon Friday, my sister, Crystal, arrived with her two sons, James and Joshua. Whenever my sister arrives there is always life and laughter in the room. She is an amazing woman, sister, and friend. She's never lost her childhood innocence and purity of thought. I guess my step-father is right, she has pixie dust (Disney trademark) in her eyes. I hope she never, ever has a single piece of it removed. She makes me laugh more in the span of five minutes than anyone else I know can.
Friday became Saturday and my mood began to slip. I hate when it happens and I'm surrounded by people because all I want to do is be left alone and all family wants to do is be together. It's like the nerve-endings in my body begin to slowly rise to the surface and the more noise and activity that is around me the more quickly they come to the surface until everything irritates and annoys. I try to escape at this point without being obvious. I hate, I hate, I hate when I feel that way when I'm around people.
Eventually, I escaped to the back deck and was able to sit and meditate for about 30 minutes. Once I was able to tune out the sounds coming from inside the house and focus on my own internal emotional and thought process I was able to make those nerve endings sink back beneath the surface of my skin. I still had to keep tight control on my irritability because it was always riding close as well. My fuse was shorter than I would have liked for being around family.
I remember my Father not being able to handle a lot of noise and activity or his "nerves" would bother him. As children we had to be quiet around him, especially when he was feeling nervous. Now I understand what he was going through. I learn more and more how much I am my Father's daughter. My poor Dad musta been double whammied by me. When I was a kid I suspect I had manic episodes and I'm sure at least one of those coincided with my Dad's sensitive times. That had to have made things worse for him -- and in turn for everyone else in the family as well.
Eventually, later that evening my mood began to lift some, but never quite made it to where I would have liked it. My medication began to kick in early in the evening and by 10 PM, I was feeling light-headed and sleepy, so I went to bed. It was the night I had dreamed of, Fire Pit Night with family circled around and a table covered with marshmallows, graham crackers and Hershey's Chocolate. Here I was going to bed. To say it was a disappointment would be a major understatement.
Sunday morning I woke feeling better, as if everything the day before was in a fog and my brain had been reset. (This is actually known as rapid-cycling, one of the hardest to treat.)
Before Crystal, James, and Josh left, we gathered, as my step-father Mike was fond of saying, "all his kids at the bottom of the pond", for pictures. Crystal, James, Josh, and I stayed behind to sign our names to the water pole in the center of the pond. We thought it turned out fairly well. Seaman/Hill graffiti. You can see the pictures by clicking here.Dave and Monika left shortly after Crystal and the boys did. Everything got quiet and I was able to fully relax again. I began to feel more like the "real" me that I wish everyone could see all of the time.
Troy and I took a walk around the property dreaming of the day when we can move there. Talking about where we wish to place our home. Things we'll grow, the animals we'll keep. Snakes and other creepy crawlies that owned this piece of land before we did and in our absence owns it once again. We came across a huge gopher tortoise burrow. It went about 4 feet back before making a sharp left turn. My Mom said my Grandfather had tried to dig one's burrow up once and finally gave up. I guess that's one of the reasons they live to be so big.
We strolled around the land. We looked at the murky water at the corner of the property where the cows come to drink. In my mind, all I could see were water moccasins and my unprotected legs. Walking through the brush underneath the canopy of trees a branch brushed against the back of my ankle and my heart almost leapt from chest in fear. We saw deer tracks crossing one end of the pasture and raccoon tracks crossing the driveway.
We walked the cut-through our family has renamed, rightfully so, "Matzen Lane". Family history is that the land was taken from our family and a cut-through was put in. The county named the cut through "Coy Ellis Road", but this is the only time you'll hear me call it that. As far as I'm concerned, it's Matzen Lane. God Bless America...and all her immigrants, too! (Belief is it was taken from our family because my great-grandparents were German. Around the time of WW2, not many white folks trusted Germans in that part of Florida.)
Walking the land reminded me of childhood summers spent walking around the pasture, playing, running, riding our imaginary horses. My Grandfather wouldn't get a horse because, "they don't do nothin' but eat and have to be taken care of". Cows and pigs, those you can eat. I believe businessmen today call that "ROI" - return on investment. My Grandfather is a wise man.
By the end of our visit, I was feeling more relaxed than I have felt ... well, I honestly can't tell you the last time I felt that relaxed. That natural. I felt like I was home. I was where I was supposed to be doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. All the meditation. All the books I've read. I was actually doing all of it. Right then. I was completely and totally ... in ... the ... NOW. I had no thoughts of future or past. I existed only in the moment of bright sunshine, the sweet smell of grass. The songs of birds all around me. The soft sigh of the trees as the wind blew through their leaves. THAT is what GOING HOME means. When you are loved and accepted, exactly as you are. When you know you are loved and are comfortable enough to allow all of your defenses down, to be who you really are, THEN, you KNOW you are HOME.
Since that visit, I have finally been able to release a lot of guilt, shame, and feelings inside for many, many years that I had not been able to express. I was able to do so while I was there and since coming home. Three people who mean very much to me. My soul feels at peace. I feel as if I have finally come home.
I am so grateful for I am so very, very blessed. I love my family. Each and every one.
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