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Seashells By The Sea Shore

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / Leave a comment

Today, is a busy, busy day. Doctor appointments, therapy appointments; you name it this is the day it has to be done. Therefore, I am unable to write today. Instead, I am leaving you with a story that I wrote seven years ago.

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Seashells By The Sea Shore

For me it is the end to the perfect day. The wind is blowing softly and the sandpipers are scuttling along the shore while the sun’s golden glow shimmers as it sinks below the waves. My six-year-old son skips alongside the sea, his jet-black hair flying behind him. He delights in the unfamiliarity of the shore songs that greet us and offer up the oceans bounties…shells of many colors: brown, tan, black, white and an occasional tinge of pink. He runs collecting both big and small. Paul scoops them up, washes them off, and dumps them in the bag as we make our way down the beach. I help pointing out the errant ones that he has missed along the way. But of course, I leave the chipped and broken shells whose imperfections make them less than a desirable collectors item.

“Mom, LOOK at all my shells,” his voice booms. “There are hundreds of them.”

I peek my head into the bag. Bits and pieces with jagged edges greet me.

“But Paul, these shells are all broken,” I say, trying to be helpful. “Why don’t you collect ones like this?” handing him a perfect specimen that has just washed ashore.

“But Mom, they don’t have to be whole to be perfect. They are beautiful just the way they are. God thinks that about you too.”

And with that, he looks into my eyes and holds my gaze with those deep brown eyes of his. Then he reaches in the bag and gives me a dirty black shell, the majority of whose pieces are scattered over the bottom of the Atlantic. Yet, when I turn the shell over I see he is right. The center makes a perfect circle which circles back upon itself. The color is uniform and is as dark as ebony. And as I stare at that shell I suddenly see my son within it. They both have a few cracks and even some missing pieces. Suddenly I come to the realization that they are indeed both perfect just the way they are.

Sometimes it just takes a six-year old boy with autism to remind you that perfection is in the eye of the beholder and that it is all around us just waiting to be discovered.

Copyright 2008

Love Is…

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This is my favorite quote about what love is or what is is suppose to be.

I used to think it described B and I to a tee. Now is just seems as if we are dragging and pulling each other away from one another. This does not feel gentle at all. Our relationship feels like a boat being tossed to and fro while it is being battered by a gigantic storm.

How did this happen?

How can we stop it?

I love this man with all my heart but frankly I am not sure I like him all that much right now and he feels the same. In fact, last night we both said that never in our entire relationship have we felt this strong of a like/dislike set of feelings so intensely and so often. After 29 years we have lead each other gently to the other numerous times…what’s next?

I need to replace this old favorite with a new and improved LOVE IS quote. Ideas anyone?

Treat Me Like Your Next Wife…340 Days to Fix This

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 2 Comments

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It all started innocently enough. I had just put a load of laundry in the washer and wiped down the refrigerator while B was cleaning the counters in the kitchen. Then he moved to vacuuming the downstairs and I took the sheets he had folded into the upstairs closet. When I came downstairs I just casually mentioned that I would love to have another shelf in the linen closet because it would help keep things organized. This is something I have mentioned here and there for the past three years. And that is when the trouble began.

B immediately launched into an attack. “I already put in a new garbage disposal this weekend. You should be happy with that.”

“II am but you do have household responsibilities around here and you don’t just get to keep saying that you aren’t going to do them like you have been saying constantly for the past several years. You seem to have no trouble telling me what I need to do and I am still going to tell you what I would like to see done that I can’t do myself.”

Then B says that I needed to do home repairs like my BFF. “She does 90% of what needs to be done around the house. You should be able to do that too!”

OH NO….you really didn’t go THERE did you? Because if that is the way it goes…I lose…every time. You will always find someone more talented, competent, better with power tools, skinnier, funnier, prettier than me. There are millions of awesome women out there.

I then proceeded to say I shouldn’t have to do all those home repairs and that he has been neglecting this area including the bathroom light that he broke three years ago and has still not replaced.

“Well, you should have gotten the globe.”

“I did and it didn’t fit. Frankly, if you broke it it should be up to you to fix it not me!”

B then proceeded to tell me how he had vacuumed the downstairs this morning and did the dishes.

And then we went to church. And I seethed throughout the service and asked for clarity and forgiveness which just didn’t happen. Because here is the thing:

  1. Treat me like you would your new wife. If she asked you for a new shelf it would be done within the first hour. Treating me with all the love, kindness, respect and compassion you would show your new wife is the least you can and should do.
  2. Stop bringing up what you just did around the house. If you truly don’t resent it like you claim, then you would just do whatever it is you have chosen to do without me having to make a big deal about it. Stop making me feel like I have to bow down to you and be eternally grateful. Frankly, you chose to do our kid’s jobs and that was your choice so don’t be upset about it.
  3. Stop comparing me to other women. I have NEVER, EVER, NOT ONCE in our 29 years of marriage compared you to another man. Research shows that making comparisons like that help to kill a marriage. Please stop. It is a game I will NEVER be able to win.

Later B walked in the door with a new light. I cried because I was so happy that he actually listened to me and was thoughtful enough to do something that would make me happy.

ROUND TWO

And then he opened his mouth and said,”Well, I am doing this because you ordered me to.”

WHATTTTTTT?

No, I only mentioned that you had not replaced the light in three years. I didn’t order you do to anything.

Later when we could talk rationally, I was amazed at the truly different versions of this story each of us believed. How could two people in the same room have such dramatically opposed impressions of the same event? I have no clue. But I do know this…I love B and he loves me and somehow (I don’t know how) we will make it through this. We have 29 years behind us and 6 kids depending on it.

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A Seven…342 Days To Fix This

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So last night when we were taking our nightly walk I made the mistake of asking B how was I doing on the changes he had asked that I make. I figured I was at a 9.5 at the least. After all I have:

  • Not yelled in like 25 days
  • My house is practically ready for a photo shoot in House Beautiful minus the sink where a pile of dishes is stacked because B needs to put in a new garbage disposal.
  • We had explosive sex 5 times this week (confession, it was only explosive 4 out of 5 times but hey I’m 55 so I count that as a blessing) Unfortunately, it appears that “Bat Ears” radar picked up on the fact that we were “going at it” which may explain why he is walking around the house repeating the number “69” over and over again. Sigh. How will I explain this one to his teacher?
  • I am smiling and dancing like a Pharrell Williams Happy extra when my heart is really breaking.
  • I’ve lost ten pounds

Yes, I have worked myself into a brand new me and frankly I have been pretty impressed with her. For in the midst of heartbreak I am also feeling strong and optimistic about who I can be as middle age creeps up on me (at least a couple of hours a day anyway)

So after all this change and angst which I am working so hard at I was devastated when B replied, “Well, I would say a 7.” And that is when I realized we really may not stay together because, frankly, I am doing the best I can do. The best I will ever be able to do. I can do no more and I wouldn’t want to even if I could. And if that is worth only a 7 in B’s book then we are doomed. Because I am working so hard at making others happy that I am losing myself even further in the process. And losing myself is not something I am willing to do anymore. Not even for B, or my kids, or my church community. Because I know that in losing myself it only makes my relationships stay in a state of limbo and that in the end the relationship will never make up for what I have given up in order to keep things going. All I am doing is creating an illusion and building a house out of sand that will be swept away during the first big storm. And as luck would have it, this year is suppose to be a hell of an El Nino.

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Who I Really Want To Yell At…Upcoming IEP…Shoot Me Now

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So we have an IEP coming up. Any parent who has ever participated in an IEP meeting knows the special kind of hell that is reserved just for us.  It is a game for adults while the pawns are the kids. These are children whose lives can be changed for a lifetime if they only get the help that they so desperately need. Parents wrangle to get what their children are entitled to under the law while school districts try to keep their budgets in line or just disagree for purely reasons of precedence. And with an unfunded federal mandate to provide these services to those in need…well, it truly is a no win situation except in the simplest of cases.

This time when I walk into that room with principals, teachers, school district big-wigs, and lawyers I want to say something meaningful, poignant and straight to the heart. What I want to say is this:

“Every year parents of special needs children divorce. In fact, according to statistics provided by various sources it is estimated that 80-90% of couples whose children are considered special needs divorce; thereby disrupting the most vulnerable of families. These are families in need of two adults in a household to co-parent and provide support to one another while they manage hour-long tantrums, disruptive behaviors, and the close supervision that is often required of children with autism and other neurological conditions. Divorce is ugly. It changes the hearts of both children and adults. It makes kids feel unsafe and unsure about their future.

So why am I telling you this?

Unfortunately, our family may soon become one of these statistics. Although we are fighting to stay together I don’t know if we will win this battle. It is ironic because we have stayed together for 29 years with ABA therapists in our home 5 days a week. We have made it through home safety issues, seizures, special diets and numerous calls from the school. And we are tired. Worn out. And haven’t had time for one another for so long.

So what does this have to do with you and how can you help?

Do what is right by our children. Honor our requests instead of just setting them aside and ignoring them. We know our kids and often we know exactly what they need. Think in terms of the far off future and outcomes that will ensure that my child will one day be a tax paying American instead of someone who needs assistance their entire life.  Provide those things you would expect for your own children or grandchildren. Think beyond and outside of the box. Do what is moral, courageous and honorable. And do it now. Stop being intentionally adversarial and work from the belief that if we cooperate, children with special needs can and will reach their full potential; thereby benefitting this community and nation.

Finally, I am letting you know that while I do not blame you for our marital issues, I do want you to be mindful that the constant extra challenges such as IEP meetings add extra layers of stress on top a marriage that can cause it to eventually sink. Remember these IEP meetings are not a game and our family is not something to be manipulated and discarded without regard. We are people trying to do our best in situations that most of you cannot truly comprehend.

In conclusion I ask you to take to heart the words of James Rachel who said:

“Principles of justice are principles that rational, self-interested people would choose to govern the society in which they were going to live, provided that they did not know, at the time they chose the principles, exactly what their own place in society would be” “– James Rachel’s forward  to John Rawl’s  book, Two Concepts of Rules.

Consider This A Yell…344 Days To Fix This

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So consider this a yell. I know, according to internet etiquette I should use caps if I am yelling but somehow, as an English major, that just seems to look like I am using bigger letters rather than saying anything profound. Nix the caps.

So I was talking to my husband about going back to school to get into a profession that would pay well even though I am 55. And he said, “I think you are rushing into things.”

“Why,” I replied. “I need to be able to take care of myself if we divorce.”

“I misspoke,” B says. “I didn’t want a divorce, I just wanted things to change.”

(here come the caps) WHATTTTTTTTTT  THE HELLLLLLLLL !

“What do you mean you just wanted things to change. You told your brother you wanted a divorce.”

And so it went.

So I leave this conversation. And I am pissed. I’m sorry but be a man…say what you mean and mean what you say. You said D.I.V.O.R.C.E. You don’t just throw out that word because you want things to change.  If you want things to change you go to your spouse and talk about it. First. Before you mention divorce.

You have forever altered so many things about our relationship by just flinging that seven letter word about. My trust in our relationship is tattered. My belief in us is in shreds. I am fearful, vulnerable, and having to envision a life that is so different from what we have now. You have rocked my world and my trust. I am sorry that you are afraid of confrontation but that is not my problem. It is yours. Own it. And own the fact that you said D.I.V.O.R.C.E and don’t try to back pedal and make it seem more innocent than it was. Don’t try to sugar coat your words. You said them and you need to own them. And in the mean time I will live with them floating through my mind and over analyzing everything that is said as I try to piece together who and what I am and we are now post the mention of a D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

Yep you got my attention but in doing so in the manner that you did, you set into motion something bigger than the two of us. I hope that we will both be satisfied with the outcome.

20 Days Yell Free…345 Days To Fix This

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So I have been trying to think of ways to incorporate little reminders of the changes I want to see happen in my life. I had considered a tattoo but having worked in healthcare for so many years with the geriatric set I have seen what age does to an ink job. What once looked like a bombshell of a woman now 64 years later looks like a crone. Even worse, the boobs on many tats that I have seen have fallen significantly lower than my own which is quite a feat. So for me, tats are out…or were out until yesterday.

While waiting to go to my therapists office, I was pleasantly surprised when I found a henna shop. Bingo! I had found the answer to my problem. So I walked into… Bollywood…and I loved it!  A rich, sultry incense filled the air, Ganesha looked down from a bubblegum pink wall and pictures of dark haired women in shimmering sari’s filled every inch of the place. Frankly, I was in East Asian heaven. Since I knew little about henna I was thrilled to be directed to a book of henna design. When I saw the interlocking hearts I knew immediately that I was destined to wear it. I saw it as a positive reminder that we did love each other and would survive this crisis in our marriage.

After much oohing and ahhing about my choice by the shop’s owner, I was directed to a seat and the henna was squirted on. Unfortunately, I do mean squirted because I think the woman applied too much pressure to the tube and all this henna came flying out thick and mud-like producing a look of astonishment on the woman’s face. Since I had no experience in these matters I kept quiet thinking that perhaps the lines would shrink and become the delicate artwork that I had always imagined it to be. WRONG.

After waiting three hours to remove this huge poop looking mess I was elegantly sporting on my arm, the design looked even worse than I imagined. It looks like something a kindergartener would draw. I suspect these next 10 days are going to be a bit warm as I wear shirts that cover this hideous gaff which now graces my skin.

Yet, I will not let this ‘ink gone wrong’ experience deter me. I am already planning my next visit to the henna shop but this time I think I will look at a peace sign to help me remember to keep a peaceful household and engage in gentle, calm thoughts even if the henna artist messes up! For I truly believe that these little temporary reminders are easy visuals that will help me blossom and become what I am envisioning for myself in the 345 days to come.

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19 Days Yell-Free (almost) 346 Days Left

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So I have not yelled in 19 days (almost) and it feels good. About the almost…yesterday I came home with a load of groceries in my arms and lugged them onto the kitchen countertop, spilling a glass of red juice all over the cabinets and floor I had just spotlessly cleaned. Without a moments hesitation I yelled out “Oh Fuck!” which immediately put me in the running for ‘Mother of the Year Award.’ So while I did yell I did not yell at any living breathing being in my home I did send that utterance out into the universe. It should be bumping into you just about now!

One of the many ways I have been working on not yelling is by swimming for 30 minutes per day and as I swim I say positive affirmations in my head like “I am calm, I am loving, I am content with things as they are, I no longer yell, I am joyful, etc.” I find this very easy and it keeps me occupied while I swim so that the result is that I swim longer. The biggest bonus is that while underwater I can not hear my children bickering. For when I hear the fighting it  makes me want to grow gills and fins so that I never have to get out of the pool and hear, “Sheeeeee touchedddddd meeeeeeee!”  in stereo sound again.

Everyday is a challenge but thus far I have succeeded when no one thought I could. That said, I have been spending more time in my closet listening to Chel Hamilton meditation podcasts. I figure that is a small price to pay for not yelling and feeling better about life in general though it also means that I need to find another place for my husband’s smelly undershirts. For me, sweat and serenity do not go together and should not inhabit the same place.

Time Revisited

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I went back to look at something I had written about my husband approximately 12 years ago. This is what I wrote:

I can write about just about anything but B because no words I might use to describe him and what he means to me would ever do him justice. It’s like trying to describe a shining diamond. While one can attempt to describe its brilliance as it sparkles in the light you would still miss some aspects of its perfection just by not being in its presence. You would miss the subtle flickers of color cast around the room; the blues, pinks and yellows. You would be unable to count the thousand little points of light that dance around the room. It’s just one of those things that you have to be around to fully appreciate its incredible beauty. That is how I feel about B.
 
B is my inspiration. He is whom I strive to emulate. He is kind, considerate, compassionate, joyful and he has a soul that is at peace with itself. He pushes me to try to be the best I can be and he teaches our children not through mere words but from example. B is also dedicated to our family, to making the world a better place and to living his life in a manner that is ethical and sincere. He is a wonderful father to our children and is always helping them find their way to themselves.
 
For years I struggled in a job that gave me little in the way of satisfaction, creativity and fulfillment. It was B who gave me the encouragement to try writing for a living and in doing so allowed my life to return to me in unexpected ways. His support (both financial and emotional) has allowed me to learn about myself, warts and all. Thanks to him I have been able to follow my own twisted path to enlightenment and happiness. If I died tomorrow, I would die happy because I am one of the fortunate ones to have experienced true love from a man who has often put my selfish wants and needs above his own. A man who heart knows no bounds and for whom love is endless and complete. B is my diamond.

So how do I feel about this now? Do I feel the same when I re-read it 12 years later? For the most part I have to say I do. Time has eroded the sense of B being as ethical as I once thought he was at least as far as our personal relationship goes. I still believe he is ethical in his dealings with others, just not me at times. He is still kind, he continues to try to be joyful ( although I would say it has diminished some but let’s face it we have serious challenges in our family), compassionate and he still helps me try to be the best I can be.  He is still a wonderful father and now he is a loving grandfather.  His soul is definitely not at peace and that is due to our strained relationship and the stress he is feeling at work and whatever else he refuses to share. But what really strikes me about this writing is this:

Thanks to him I have been able to follow my own twisted path to enlightenment and happiness.

That is not true. At All.  On so many levels.

And so what I really come away from in re-visiting this piece I had written is that things change. Quietly. Continuously. Changes exaggerate and expand as we age and get to know each other better. But in truth, we are who we are and although we will change we must also grow. And there is a difference between the two. Our relationship has changed but not always grown and we certainly have not grown together only further apart.   And I have yet to find enlightenment.

A Goodie For Me (And You)

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I haven’t mentioned that while possibly losing a husband I have gained a therapist. The husband is definitely cheaper but the therapist actually listens to me so the trade-off is worth it. Yes, I am paying her to listen but one might say I am paying off my husband to listen to me too…just not in cash…and frankly he does half the job that the therapist does.

Anyway, my therapist has instructed me to do four things every day to take care of myself.

  1. Exercise at least 30 minutes per day. Check. I’ve got this!
  2. Spend time in your own spiritual realm
  3. Mental-Spend time reading, doing something that engages your mind and helps you learn
  4.  Social/emotional- Spend time really being aware about what you are feeling and what those feelings are telling you.

So one of the best things I have been doing for myself the last 10 days is listening to the meditation/hypnosis tapes of Chel Hamilton. They calm me right down and keep that calm surrounding me throughout the day. I believe that Chel has helped me with that horrible yelling habit of mine. She also has done podcasts on finding joy, improving your relationships, increasing self-esteem. Best of all they are short (about 10 minutes) and they are FREE. Chel has a podcast and you can find her here:

http://chelhamilton.com/free-hypnotic-meditation-audios/

Seriously, these are the best 10 minutes I give myself during the day. And it is better than living in my closet trying to escape the chaos outside my door!

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