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Swimming With The Rain
Life

Courage can start with picking out new pottery

  • June 7, 2020

Yesterday, I spent the day helping a friend move to a new house that she bought. It’s perfect for her and that view… Oh my! The spacious back yard overlooks the bay, with plenty of room on the back deck to enjoy the water and sunrise. She was super lucky that the previous owners left window boxes with freshly planted petunias, adding to the charm from either inside or out.

Adding to the charm of her new house was her variety of plants in colorful, sometimes eclectic, pots. The back of the moving van looked similar to that of a florist making deliveries, with wandering Jews and Ivy hanging from the wood rafters, and bowls of petunias and begonias packed in tightly. All that seemed to be missing were the plastic card holders with well wishes offered.

My slightly green thumb was beginning to itch. Oh, how I missed the color of outdoor plants! They always brought a smile to my thoughts, seeing them on my porch after a long work day, as if their flowers were saying, “Welcome home!” I’d always longed for my backyard to look like what my mind had imagined while reading ‘The Secret Garden’… Filled with whimsical plants in colored pottery lining the pebble covered paths, leading to a hidden bridge that connected to a maze of wandering ivy, luscious plants, and vibrant bushes with butterflies dancing around. Sure, there were times that I would add flowers to a dirt area in my backyard, but with kids and a dog running around, they didn’t last long. And in reality, if I would have had a secret garden, I would have gotten lost in there with a book, never to be found. Would that really have been such a bad thing, come to think of it? Ha! Looking back, it could have worked. You see, when my youngest son was little, he loved to help me pick out flowers for our front porch, always trying to find the right ones that smelled good or colors he thought I would enjoy. And when it would rain, instead of getting frustrated, he would say, “The rain is watering our plants and the sun will help them grow“. But, as time went on, sports, life, and challenging schoolwork got in the way. It seemed that suddenly, planting flowers with mom lost their thrill.

But, here I am with this sudden desire to watch plants evolve in to their own shape, maybe similar to watching my kids change and grow. (Well, that was just an A-HA moment, need to make a note of that.) So, I head to the store early on this rainy Sunday morning, to wander the garden section. The peace of mindlessly walking around, smelling the herbs, and reading different labels reminded me of the long ago quiet bookstores. I selected a variety based upon full sun, mid sun, and light sun, along with annual versus perennial. Not caring for the bland selection of pots (or pricing), I headed to a discount store hoping they would have some that caught my eye. This was going to be my chance to have the courage to go for something a bit more vibrant, not just practical and sturdy. They did not disappoint!

The heat index is already pushing 90 with 85% humidity at 10:30 am and I felt the need to do this today, why? What was I thinking? Oh, that’s right… My slight green thumb was itching! But, as I found my hands in the potting soil, adding to each pot, deciding which plants should be combined or left with their own kind, that old feeling came over me as I found where each one belonged. But, this time, it felt a bit different… These plants were at home.

Just as I was feeling quite satisfied with my progress and packing up the empty containers, a text came through from my friend across the street. “I look out my window and there you are with two different color gloves!” Laughing, I replied back with, “My damn dog seems to think they are great chew toys so when the cabinet is open and she can get to one, she snags it and starts trotting off. Freaking dog!” I needed that moment to break up the moment and look up at the sky.

A summer storm was coming in, so I lined up my new plants and admired my baby steps in purchasing an array of somewhat colorful pots. They’ll spend a day soaking up some rain, reaching for the sun, before I decide where to place them. As I stood back to admire the beginning of my colorful world, I reflected on the words of my son from 10 short years ago that is more a metaphor on life than he knew at the time… “The rain is watering our plants and the sun will help them grow“.

I had some cuttings from a plant that I trimmed down that had finally grown sufficient roots. Broken super glued coffee cups and small plastic pots are the perfect place to transfer these small plants while they adjust to their new environment.
This type of pot is something that I would have never picked out before. But, I loved the look and have always admired this style when I have seen in other peoples gardens.

So, what are you waiting for? There is always going to be rain, but there will be sun, and that is when we grow. Find the courage to pick out your own pottery and let your vibrant side show! For those of you that have seen your friends admiring your plants and beautiful pottery, just remember what an excellent gift that would make for them when the time arises. Not only is it the plant and the pot it is in that they admire, it is YOU, and your courage to do what they are striving for.

Life

He’s not MY boy any longer

  • June 1, 2020

My boy turned 25 today. Well, he’s no longer my boy. Actually, he was never MY boy. He belonged to his mother. But, I had a piece of his heart for over four years.

When I first met Carson, his dad and I had been dating for just over a year. The kids had figured out that something was up and a relative let them know that their dad had been dating someone. I think I was more nervous to meet the kids than I was for the first date with their dad. Walking in to meet them for the first time, I never knew that I would become such a big part of their lives.

Glenn told me how friendly Carson was and was just sure that we would hit it off the first night. Boy, did he get that one wrong.

I walked in and this 11 year old that still wore baby fat with a layer of expensive name brand clothes, just looked at me. He politely shook my hand, when his father told him to, then went and sat on the couch. Luckily, there was the dog, a boxer named Max. I told people after that whole encounter that the only one that truly liked me in that house for awhile was Max. Ha! Max came and sat on the floor next to me, and I just kept petting his head, just to have something to do with my hands. Carson tried to head upstairs to his room but his dad told him to stay in the living room. I asked questions about sports, school, you name it. I mean, I had a 12 year old, I can relate to pre-teen boys! Well, Carson decided that if he had to stay in the living room, the easiest way to not look at me was to put a blanket over his whole body, including his head. What in the world had I gotten myself in to? When I drove away, I was so close to texting his dad and saying, “Your kids won.”

A few weeks later, I invited all of them over to my house for dinner, along with some other friends. I figured this would be an easy time for the kids as there would be plenty to do and it wouldn’t seem like forced “family time”. I’ll never forget that just before we sat down to eat, Glenn grabbed his keys and said he was running to McDonald’s. “Why?” I asked. “Well, Carson said he doesn’t like enchilada’s.” I looked around for Carson but didn’t see him. “When did he tell you this?” “Well, he texted me.” “From upstairs?” There was a nod… “Has he ever had them?” Shake of the head… “Tell that boy to try them and if he doesn’t like them, I will go and get him McDonald’s.” Flash forward a couple weeks later and I’m out at his house when some friends come over… “This is my dad’s girlfriend and she makes the BEST enchiladas!” That kind of became our thing… If I was trying to figure out what to make for dinner, he’d wink and say, “You know what I want”. A few years later, he met my mom and while hugging her, he said, “Thank you for teaching your daughter how to make the best enchiladas ever!” By that age, he had started to perfect his charm.

Carson always had a charm to him. He knew how to shake his dad’s friends hands and talk sports, he would hug the friend’s wives when they came over and compliment them on their hair or team shirt (sports was big in that house), he would take the kids and jump in to the pool with them… He was growing in to the young man that we all wish our sons to be but know that they are the ones that will seduce our daughters.

For his birthday one year, after the football team won a National Championship, I made him a tied fleece blanket. Not hard to make, just a bit time consuming. But, if anyone was going to appreciate this blanket, it was going to be him. I special ordered the fleece with his teams logo for one side, then did the other in a matching color. I don’t know whose eyes were bigger, Carson or his dad’s, when he opened it. However, I very rarely saw him with it. I asked him why and he told me he was afraid it would get dirty or someone else in the house (eyes on his dad) would snag it. “Then where is it?” “It’s in my closet. I pull it out when I want it.” You see, the boy had a lock on his closet door because his brother used to steal his nice clothes and either disappear with them or leave them with food stains.

Carson knew how to appreciate being in the moment… He used to run around chasing my 4 year old son, telling him that there was a monster in the closet, while my son would squeal with laughter. He’d tell the little one, “You want to see where my dad hides the cookies?” There was one particular evening where it was just Glenn and I with his boys. Carson convinced us that we should go to the movies since there was a new one with Mark Wahlberg in it. First, we went to dinner and grabbed burgers. His dad stepped out to take a call so I paid the bill. Carson looked at me with surprise and then said, “That’s cool of you to do that.” The movie ended up being awful (“The Happening”) but he got a kick out of seeing me jump and scream at one point.

With his charm, came a sneaky side that his dad seemed to never notice. One time, I googled his name to figure out what he was doing on social media and there was a video of him on youtube jumping from the one story part of the house IN TO THE POOL!!! Cautiously, I brought it up to his dad, asking if the kids have ever thought of doing stupid things when we’re not there, like jumping from the fence or rooftop. My “innocent” question was met with, “Of course not. He’s smarter than that.” Anyways, we’re all relaxing in the pool and there’s Carson with his charming ways asking his dad if he thinks it’s possible to jump from the first story in to the pool, his dad starts telling him something about ratio, gravity, blah blah blah. But, I see the twinkle in Carson’s eyes… “Sweetie, hand me my phone so I can look up youtube videos of this type of stupidity.” Head hung down, he says, “Never mind.” I smiled and said, “Don’t ever think I can’t find things out.”

Once he got his drivers license, he knew that I wasn’t the one to throw his charm at any longer. He’d come home shortly after 11 on a Friday night after working at a restaurant, shower, come downstairs and then announce, “Hey, I’m going to go and pick Cody up so he can stay the night.” My standard reply, “Nothing good happens after 11. And technically, according to the fine state we live in, you can’t drive after 11.” He tried the line of, “Well, I can if I’m coming home after work.” Back to me looking him up and down, “You sure smell good for working at a restaurant.” You see, I have this theory… Teenagers are not trustable. How do I know this? I was one.

And then, Carson had a girlfriend. No big deal, right? He’s 16 and not my son. Parental mode kicked in when I saw that he was shy about introducing me to her. With a name like Mary Kate and looking like a nice wholesome girl, what’s not to love? Perhaps the way she stared at my boy like only a teenage girl that is feeling that first love feel can. And also the way that her hair was disheveled when they came downstairs to watch a football game with us… (Don’t even get me started on Glenn allowing them to be upstairs in the room together.) While cooking dinner one evening, he came by to look over my shoulder (when did the kid get tall enough to do that?) and I very calmly said, “Make good decisions. Do not make me call your dad Grandpa yet.” He laughed and with all of his charm said, “And what will you be called?” Looking him right in the eye, I said, “Prisoner 643429”. His smile kind of faded as he said, “Yes, m’am”.

As I said, sports were BIG in that house. And I mean big. His dad had season tickets to their favorite college football team and I went once or twice a year with him, the kids went the others. But, there was one rivalry game that I had been wanting to go to so bad. Carson sent me a text one evening and said, “For your birthday, I’m giving up my seat to you since I know you’ve been wanting to go.” Oh, my heart!!! He was going to miss out on one of the biggest games just to let me go! This game had been on my dream list of being able to say, “I remember that game. I was there!” But, in my heart of hearts, I knew that it wasn’t in me to take away their yearly tradition. Did I want to go? You better believe it! Do I regret my decision? Not in the least. I had the chance but I knew the memories of him going with his dad would make my soul happy.

There are so many articles about how to deal with a breakup and what emotions you will feel, when its time to move on, how to learn from your mistakes. But, what they don’t teach you is what happens when you lose the kids, also. I’m not here to teach you how to move past it, because I don’t know. All I know is that when I think of that time in my life, I think of them as my kids and I remember that one special boy that had a piece of my heart.

About 6 months after the breakup, I was at the gym and I felt someone watching me, I turned around and there was Carson. We hugged and he told me how his Senior year of highschool was going. My boy, growing up. When he graduated, I received an announcement in the mail. Knowing I wasn’t going to attend, I sent him a check with a card telling him how proud I was of him and I received a thank you card which he personalized with kind words; somewhere I still have it. I pull up his facebook every now and then just to make sure he is doing well. He finished college, still has the dimple, a twinkle in his eye, and is ending up with his dad’s hairline. And you better believe that if I ever run in to him again, he will get a big momma hugg from me!

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