“Friends are the family you make for yourself.” – Unknown

If Megan had been born a man, my boyfriend would be in big trouble.  In fact, if we were lesbians, I’d have it made.  She has helped me be my best, been a victim of my worst and still calls me her best friend.

Everyone should have a Megan. 

While moving some boxes around, Megan discovered a stash of notes we’d passed back and forth in high school.  We sat up giggling until 3AM Saturday morning reading how ridiculous we were.  We laughed, we cried, we cringed and we laughed some more.  Our trip down memory lane proved that a few things are certain: I did NOT have life figured out like I thought I did.  My parents really were smarter than me.  I am glad I am no longer 14.  Megan and I really are best friends FOREVER.

Like most girls, during my school days I had numerous BFF’s.  It wasn’t until I became an adult that I really understood what true friendship was.  Real best friends do not come and go with semester changes and they often stick around even when you don’t want them to.  They will help clean up your love life as well as your vomit.  Best friends have not only seen you naked, but have possibly seen you push another human being out of your hoo-ha.  The title should not be handed out lightly. 

Yesterday, my mom lost her “Megan.”  Her name was Joyce and she was my mother’s very best friend.  A car accident suddenly claimed her life and the person my mom has exchanged her life story with was gone.  It has been a blow to our whole family. 

As I lay in bed with my sweet Mama last night, I thought about how fortunate we are to be able to reach beyond the boundaries of family and truly be loved by others we encounter.  This life is too short.  Best friends are few and far between.  Mom said to me, “Best friends don’t come along often.  We’re lucky to get one.”

I’m lucky enough to get two.  Brenda, the other woman in this world subjected to my madness gave me a picture for Christmas that says, “A friend is someone who understands your past, believes in your future and loves you just as you are today.”

I am reminded to not take these precious souls for granted.  We may not share the same bloodline, but are sisters none the less.

Go rest high on that mountain, Joyce.  You will be missed.

I follow the same path in the afternoons. I hang a right out of the parking lot and circle around through the maze of houses behind my office. It’s an odd mix of social landscape back there. One minute you’re rolling by nice $300,000 homes with manicured yards and froo-froo animals and the next you’re locking your car doors in front of duplexes and quad units stuffed with more bodies than the bedrooms can accommodate. It’s a little sobering.

At the end of the journey there is a sign that says “Limited Sight Distance” at the crest of a hill just before the world drops off on the other side. I thought about stealing the sign today to hang in my living room or maybe my bedroom, both locations seem metaphorically appropriate.

I like to be the girl with the plan. Oddly enough I find myself flying by the seat of my MEK jeans more often than not. This season of life is no different. I was once happily married. We went to work, came home and I cooked dinner that we would all share as a family before watching a movie, bath time and eventually tucking the kids into bed. We had so many plans: working our way out of debt, buying a bigger house in a good school zone with a yard for the kids to play in, moving to the mountains and someday buying an RV and a boat. Life was simple and pleasant.

But our sight distance was limited.

My daughter starts kindergarten in the fall this year in a wonderful school zone. She no longer has to share a bedroom with her brother and they both spend warm afternoons playing in the backyard with the dogs. Their dad is no longer here for dinner or for bath and bedtime and despite the difficulties of the last few months he was alive, we miss him.

Now I’m making new plans. They seem to change daily. Hell, sometimes they seem to change every hour, but I plan anyway. Now I keep in mind that the world might just drop off on the other side of the hill.

My life is silent in a chaotic sort of way these days. The past ten months have been an excruciating mix of painful and pleasant experiences that have left me in a cloud, incoherently gliding through life. I’ve let my actions determine my decisions rather than moving myself toward a chosen goal. I guess I can’t beat myself up too much for my passiveness, I mean it’s been a pretty effed up year and there’s been a lot to keep me preoccupied.

About three weeks ago the cloud began to lift. My tears dried up allowing me to see clearly and I looked around at my life and began to wonder, “What am I doing?”

There is a lot going right in my world. My kids are healthy and happy, I have a wonderful guy that loves me more than I deserve or understand, there is food on the table and a pair of seriously cute jeans in my closet. I just can’t shake the feeling that something is seriously missing.

I see myself standing in a dark and empty room. It’s MY room, the room where I’m supposed to be happy, safe and secure but all it feels like is a holding cell, a triage of an emotional hospital. In front of me are countless doors. I can walk through any door that I choose and finally make a change that will start a ripple effect for the rest of my days. I am being suffocated by fear. Fear of choosing the wrong door, fear of causing damage to those on the journey with me but mostly terrified by the thought of staying in that room.

There are faint voices all around me, the majority of them coming from myself. “You’re a single mother; you’re going to screw up your kids. You can’t do it all alone. You’re crazy for wanting to make a major change with the economy so bad. You’re so ungrateful. You’re not good enough to live your dream. You’ll never make it. You’re going to fail…”

I’ve checked off the major life headlines (as Tiffany calls them, see her blog I’ve Got A Fever). I’ve done the marriage thing, bought some real estate, had a couple of babies (one of each gender) and held onto a good job for nearly a decade. Now as I look forward from my 27 year perch I wonder, “Is this all there is?”

Of course I have my children to look forward to and I don’t want to seem ungrateful for them. They are growing up and changing so fast and they are the biggest joy in my life. But for me, is this it? Is THIS what I wanted to be when I grew up?

A wise man once said, “If you set a five year goal for yourself and never start moving toward it, in five years you’re still going to have the same goal but you’ll be no closer to reaching it.”
Today I’m not exactly sure what I want that goal to be, but I do have a dream and I have a feeling that dream is on the other side of one of those doors.

One thing I’ve learned the hard way this year is that life is too short to wait. What if this bleak and rainy Wednesday was the last day of my life?

Yes, I know I’ve been pretty quiet lately. I’ve refused to blog because I’ve refused to write anything that would just depress the hell out of everyone. Let’s face it; my life hasn’t been a big ball o’ sunshine the past couple of weeks. However, I feel as though I am making a turn and that the road ahead is looking up. So, tonight I’m back on the blog front.

These last few months were especially challenging for Robert personally and as a result he had begun to desperately depend and recognize God in a new way. Robert was a man that God demonstrated his unfailing love to until the final moment He called him home. I believe God was working with Robert these last few months and I believe that Robert began to personally know a loving God. I believe Robert is with Jesus and for the first time Robert is embracing the abiding comfort of a merciful and faithful God who was faithful to complete what He had started in him.

OK…. so it was only mildly depressing.

I’ve been on hiatus from writing for the past few weeks as I’ve been walking through the most difficult season of my life to date. Most of you probably know that my husband was killed in a car accident on May 31st. It was dreadfully unexpected as most accidents are and I have been left here in the wake of the aftermath trying to make sense of it all. The days pass quickly and are filled with emotion and tears. Yes, I said tears… who knew that the Scorpion Crusher could cry after all?

The few months before Robert was taken from this life have not been easy to say the least. I haven’t blogged about it because some things in life just shouldn’t be laid out for all of cyberspace to read. We separated in February and were going through what was turning into a very painful divorce for both of us. Over the past 13 days I’ve dealt with more emotion than I thought was humanly possible. Hermione Granger (for all you Harry Potter fans) once accused her friend Ron of having the emotional range of a teaspoon when he said to her “someone can’t possibly feel all of those things at once, they’d explode!” Well, guess what Ron? You can feel a thousand different things at once and not explode even though you might want to.

The biggest thing I’ve dealt with is guilt. I keep questioning that maybe if I’d done things differently he would still be with us. I’ve laid awake many nights wondering, “Maybe this really is all my fault.” In these dark times I’m fortunate to have good people around me and the smiling faces of my two children to pull me through.

My sister sent me an email this morning to encourage me after a long conversation on the phone last night. It was a verse from the Psalms. “All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Psalm 139:16b

God knew of Robert’s accident long before we ever separated. His days were numbered and held securely in the hand of the Father before Robert was ever even born.

I don’t have an answer as to why all of this has happened. I may never know. I am however certain that God knows and that He has a plan for me and the kids. Last year I lost a couple of very dear friends and at their funeral someone said, “I don’t ask God why He took them, but I ask Him why He left me behind.”