Wednesday, July 29, 2015

the bathroom stall door

"unless something is bleeding or on fire, i will not discuss it through the bathroom door" is heard at least daily at our house.   i joke about it as much as the next mom.   it is funny, but honestly, every single time i have to say it, another picture comes to mind.   every single time.   

i look at that bathroom door, which i hopefully locked, and hear the calls of "mom!" but i see the door of a public campground bathroom stall.   i feel cold, unfriendly, public tiles that i share with complete strangers beneath my feet.  every single time.   it makes me smile.  every single time.

let me explain.

a few years ago, we came to germany and lived with family.   family that was not used to having 3 kids and crazy, loud, silly, romping, laughing, chaos around.   it was not good.
some friends saw the situation and offered us their camp trailer to live in.   we took it!   we moved into a travel trailer in the german equivalent of a aok or koa camp site in america.   a place to park and a short walk to the lake any time we wanted.   it was also a walk to the bathrooms.   a walk with a wagon full of dishes to the washroom.   a walk to the showers with enough change to pay for hot water.   a walk with a wagon full of laundry and change to the laundry room.    a walk with empty bottles to fetch water to cook with.   

we spent 6 months in that campsite.   mostly winter months.   it was small.  it was hard.  it was cold.   we had hurricane force winds come through that year.   i remember laying in bed praying that the straps would hold everything down as i watched and felt the whole trailer shake wondering if the tent that was our front room would still be there in the morning.    it was better than where we had been.

we were fortunate to be near the bathrooms and in an end site where there wasn't much traffic.   living in a camper the size of most living rooms with no yard and an active 2 year old is crazy.   we were also fortunate to be able to get a stove and larger fridge about half way through.   no more just cooking on a hot plate, i had a fridge large enough for more than that days meals and oven to cook them.   whoo-hoo!   

we did finally move into a house.   whenever i stand at the kitchen sink that is lower than any american sink i have ever seen, washing dishes with a sore back, i think about how grateful i am that i'm in my kitchen.   my kids are playing in their rooms, or in the yard, or in the living room . . .there is a whole house and yard for them to be in!   seems silly.   we always had all those things before, but i never appreciated them until i didn't have them anymore.   
whenever i hear the kids whine about their rooms, i am glad they have rooms and not bunks that they call their rooms.
whenever i send my youngest out to play, i am relieved that he can go play in a yard and not a driveway full of gravel i share with the camper next door.
whenever i work on the ever present mountain of laundry, i am grateful that i only have to haul it from one room to another and it doesn't cost me 6€ to wash and dry one load.
whenever i turn on the sink, i feel so blessed for running water in my kitchen.   dumping noodles into a colander in the sink to drain them is a privilege we did not have for a while.   
every time mother nature calls in the night and i stumble to the potty, i am grateful i don't have to put on a coat and robe and shoes to trudge out in the night with key in hand so i can use a cold public stall.

it's been a few years, but i still see that camper and campsite as i move through my normal daily life.   i know that camper was more than a lot of people have and i was always grateful for it.   we grew as a family, we came to appreciate what we had.   i can put an end to most of the kids complaining with , "but it isn't . . . .".   
life is busier.   there is a lot more to do.    i still get caught up in the rush of life and forget how much i have sometimes.   there is one things that keeps me grateful.   there is still one thing that lifts my heart every time.   it's the morphing of my white wood bathroom door.   i hear a knock, or the call of "mom!" and that door changes before my eyes.   i see a metal stall door hanging there, like a ghost that materializes before me.   a piece of me just smiles and sighs with relief and  thanksgiving.   

one day, i looked around me.   the streets, and cars, and trees always the same and i thought, "what if tomorrow it was gone?"   what if tomorrow i lived somewhere else?  what if?   the trees looked greener that day.   i noticed the little beautiful hidden surprises that always hide in our hurried lives.   i saw the whole world as if the first time and i realized that it was new again.   

i'm still busy.   i'm still unorganized and chaotic.   lots of things still make me crazy.   i may never appreciate some of the annoying things of life, but now i see the really great things all around and it kind of overpowers the irritations.   not always, but sometimes.

close your eyes and imagine that you will have to leave everything tomorrow.   now, look around, walk through your day as if it's the last day that you will have it.   might not miss going to work, but i bet you would miss the paycheck.   might not miss the traffic but i bet you would miss the car.  you might not miss somethings, but there will be much much more you would. 

the next time you go into a public bathroom, imagine that being the only bathroom door you have.   when you say, "i just want to "go" in peace", imagine those other people's voices, strangers being on the other side of that door instead of your kids calling for mom.     you will still tell them that you are not discussing anything that isn't bleeding or on fire through the bathroom door.   you will also be grateful that you can. 

Thursday, July 2, 2015

bull by the horns

you never know how your words will fit into another person's life.

as a kid, there were these boys that kept trying to run us over with their bikes.   they were freakin' obnoxious!   it was constant.   day after day they would show up and just bully us non-stop.

then it happened!  i heard an adult say something about taking the bull by the horns.   my pre10 year old mind knew exactly what to do!

the next day, i was ready.   i had played it out in my head several times.   i was kind of a thinker even then so i had thought about all the things that could go wrong.   i also knew i was not taking this crap from these kids any more!

we went out to play.
they showed up.
i watched them carefully and put  my plan into action.  

one of them lined up to take a run at me.   the other kids were scattering.   i yelled that i wasn't afraid and they better not try it.   i wasn't running anymore.

the bullies laughed and my friends cringed.

i lined up, spread my legs a bit so they wouldn't get hit before i could act.  i braced myself.   the bike came at me faster than i thought.

i wasn't totally ready but i wasn't moving.   the kid raced at me full speed.  

as he got to me, i grabbed the handlebars and twisted.. . . .

i had planned on twisting anyway.     the plan was to twist the handlebars and throw him off the bike as i stayed standing triumphant over the defeated villain.    

seemed like a solid plan.   i just didn't account for my size . . . or his size . . . .  or the bikes momentum.

i did catch the handlebars with my hands and i did throw the kid and his bike to the ground.   i ended up on the ground in the aftermath as well.  

i'm sure i got hurt, but i didn't feel it.   i got up as fast as possible and in true hero style asked if anyone else wanted to try it.

ended up taking on a couple more.   they didn't run in fear when i toppled the leader like they do in the movies.    i was determined though.   eventually, the dust settled and one kid swore his parents would make me pay for the damage done to his bike.   i was a little freaked when i saw him walking back down the road with mom in tow.   i gathered up that crazy, ticked off, not gonna take it anymore courage that had made me try to take the bully bike by the handlebars in the first place and explained that the reason he got thrown from his bike was because of at least a week's worth of attacks.   fortunately, my friends bore witness and showed their recent injuries inflicted by her son and his pals.   his bike was the least of his worries after that.  

i learned that it was easier to side step and push than to go head on and twist.  
i learned that standing up means being willing to get hurt in the process.
 i learned that you shouldn't tattle on someone that has just gathered up the gumption to defend themselves against you.
 i learned that sometimes you stand alone, and sometimes you gather followers but standing up is what counts.  
i learned to use the crazy.
i learned the power of ticked off.
i learned to fight back.

i learned to take the bull by the horns.   that is one of the most important things i ever learned.

no one calls with good news at midnight

the phone rings.   at first, not sure if it's a dream or if i am waking up to the sound.   no, the phone is ringing.   it's past midnight, there is only one possibility.  please let it be a prank call.  please let it be a wrong number.

hello?
this is the doctor at the hospital, can i speak to your husband please?
no.   i'm sorry.   he's sleeping.   (maybe if i delay it, it will be a dream and i will wake up.  i don't want to hear what you are going to say.   i'm sorry, you can't talk to him because i know what you are going to say.   no.   it hasn't happened.   no.   it isn't time.   no.   no.   no.)
it is really important, may i speak with your husband, please?
i...um.... (no!   no you can't!   no!   not yet!   one more visit.   one more book read to the grandkids.  one more . . . .no!) . . just a moment

i am not sure where i am while the phone call takes place.   i know what the doctor is saying without hearing it.   he asked to not be brought back again.   he was ready, i was not.

a phone call to the brother.   he is sure he will still be there in the morning and wants to wait.   surely he can wait to die until tomorrow.   can't he wait until tomorrow?   no, he is gone.   without permission, he has gone.   they make the trip to the hospital.   one was just  there a few hours ago.   just an hour before it happened, two hours before it was discovered by the shift nurse.    the other had always planned on going the next day.   the next day was now gone too.

i call my mother to cry and wonder.  

a few years ago, i didn't want to be around him.   a few years ago, we were at war.  now, i can't even believe or even really remember the feelings of so long ago.  now, i just want another chance to say "i love you".  it was only a day since i last looked into his eyes and said, as though i knew it would be the last, "i love you very much.   we love you so very much".   i knew at that moment, and the look in his eyes said he did as well, it would be the last time he would say, " you too".

the next day, the children cry.  one more book, one more time to tell opa their stories of adventure from the day.   one more time to hear their opa say they are doing well in school and be good.  see one more pride filled smile, one more joke and laugh together.   one more time to push his chair down the hall and pretend they are a race car.   one more time to hug him.   one more time, it was only the day before, but one more time.

two brothers miss their father.   
one rejoices that he had so much time with him.  the other regrets that there is no more tomorrows.  
one reflects over pictures and memories.   the other is given pictures because he has none of his own.
one knows that separation is short.
one built a relationship.
one found joy.
one heard "you too" only because he said "i love you".