How I Spent 9/11

The day after the last post on this blog, I was sitting in front of the TV like so many other Americans watching the 9/11 Memorial coverage at Ground Zero.
Like I do every year, I listened as the bells were rung to commemorate when each plane hit and as each tower fell.
I listened to the reading off of the names and cried when they reached the name of the loved one I'd lost ten years ago.
I honored those lost and those left behind by lighting two pillar candles in remembrance.
I turned off the TV and went about my morning with plans to take the kids to a local 9/11 Memorial which was close to a park.
I wanted to honor the day by going out and living the life I am so blessed to have.
It was 11am when my phone rang.
The caller ID said it was PrinceCharming. The voice on the other end, however, couldn't have been farther from his.
It was his sister. She was calling to tell me that my (not yet) ex-husband had been in a head on collision early that morning and was in the Trauma ICU at a local hospital.
He's going to be ok but he wanted me to call to tell you.
Sorry, but the letters "I-C-U" and "O-K" don't go together in my Dictionary.
I hung up the phone in a daze as my 9 and 5 year olds played blissfully unaware of the new 9/11 tragedy that may or may not be playing out in our lives.
My mind went blank.
What was I to do? What do I tell the kids?? What am I supposed to say??? How am I supposed to feel????
I was alone.
And in new territory.
I hadn't spoken with my SIL in close to two years and doubted I would get very many answers from her any time soon.
Knowing she suffers the same passive-agressive tendencies as her brother, I called in reinforcements and notified every one of PrinceCharming's and my mutual friends. I needed to know the truth of what had happened to my childrens' father and I needed to know it N-O-W.
As I struggled to remain calm in front of our kids, I texted and snuck phone calls to relay what little information I had.
We're on our way and will call you from the hospital.
Our friends descended upon Trauma ICU en masse and over the course of the next several weeks proved invaluable to my sanity.
For the two days following I was with my (not yet) ex-husband at his bedside while our kids were at school, needing to see for myself the extent of his injuries and whether or not he truly would be OK.
He was intubated, yet conscious.
He couldn't speak but his body language communicated VOLUMES that only I could understand. I relayed instructions to those who were taking charge of his care (a job that once belonged to me), so they could do their best to make sure he was comfortable.
I held PrinceCharming's hand and reassured him the kids were ok and would be ok.
I looked into his eyes and he squeezed my hand in acknowledgement and thanks.

(Of course, I was referring to Hansel and Gretel whom I had control over what and how the information would be disseminated. Cinderella, OTOH, was at my SILs house when the accident occurred and was told moments before her BioMom came to pick her up. This was not what PrinceCharming wanted.)

(Cinderella had started the school year at her mother's, not by choice, but due to PrinceCharming's struggles with his depression and trying to balance a new job at an internet start-up. She has been allowed to see her father TWICE in the past six weeks, despite many attempts by me to make this situation right. This past weekend I succeeded, with his help, and was able to bring all of our kids to him for a visit.)

These past six weeks have consisted of MRIs, CT Scans, X-Rays, ER visits and long stints in two hospitals.
My (not yet) ex-husband is lucky to be alive.
He's been up against numerous broken and shattered bones paired with traumatic brain injury resulting in memory loss.
Compound all of that with post-traumatic stress no doubt added to his pre-existing anxiety and depression.
The lines of reality and perceived reality as a result of this emotional dysregulation are blurry at best.

I'm in unfamiliar yet all-too-familiar territory at the same time.
Once primary care-giver now bystander.
I'm faced with the challenge of knowing his flair for melodrama, penchant for providing minimum information for maximum impact and isolationism, while being empathetic to his situation and the indisputable injuries he has suffered.
Having to step back without walking away is difficult.
Prince Charmng has a long road of rehabilitation ahead of him.
It seems, I do too.

What I Also Did on My Summer Vacation

I. Met. Bigbird!

Oh yeah, Gretel did too.



What I Did On My Summer Vacation

The end of August, I took the kids on a week-long vacation with my Dad and Stepmom. This was a trip I NEVER thought would happen, for a variety of reasons, the least of which came down to (lack of) money.
But opportunity knocked. Just at the point in my summer when I was about to surrender and accept that there would be NO vacation - rather a STAYcation - my Dad offered the kids and I an all-expense-paid trip to a destination of my choice. The only caveat was that it had to be a place within driving distance so all I needed to worry about, was gas and tolls. Thanks, Dad!
I chose Colonial Williamsburg. A place my Dad had taken me years ago, which held so many happy memories for me, I wanted my kids to have those same memories with their Grandfather. This would be their first vacation with Grandpop, and it was especially important to make this trip knowing he and my Stepmom are moving from NJ to Arizona in just two-weeks time.
With the location chosen, our time-share was booked! A spacious three-bedroom condo from Wyndham Vacation Resorts with all the bells and whistles.
Tickets were purchased! Passes to Colonial Willamsburg, Busch Gardens and WaterCountry USA.
My coin jar was cashed in to pay for gas and tolls. My car inspected and given a once over.
All ready!
Queue: PANIC!
Eight hour drive. Two kids. Thirteen year old car. No working radio. No DVD player.
HOLY CRAP.
What am I doing? How am I going to keep them entertained for so long??How am I going to handle them by myself in an amusement park?? What if the car breaks down???
In that moment of panic and weakness, I asked the ex-boyfriend to come along. Not because I wanted him to, but because I thought I needed him to.
I was being faced with another inner conflict between the Me that is growing vs. the Me that wants to stay stuck in the past. At that moment, I lacked the confidence in my ability to handle the driving, the kids, the rides and whatever else came along. Self-doubt crept in once again.
And... as I was asking my ex-boyfriend to join us, every cell in my body was crying out NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I spent the weeks leading up to my vacation worrying and fretting over the potential consequences to this decision. Ambivalence mixed with dread over what was supposed to be a fun trip with my children.
See, the ex-boyfriend and I have been on-again/off-again many times over the past two years. Each time we'd break up for the same reasons (mainly my desire to be independent and single) only to get back together for the same reasons (mainly my co-dependence and fear).
But this break-up felt different to me and I worried he would get the wrong impression, develop unrealistic expectations based on how things always went before, and that my vacation would be ruined if things didn't go as he hoped.
(I know I've created this sceanrio by my lack on conviction in the past. By my own indecisiveness and not trusting myself enough to step fully into my independence. I kept standing in my own way of personal growth, and asking him to come along was another shining example of that.)
He promised me there were no strings attached, that he understood my feelings had truly changed and that we would have a nice trip.
I trusted in that (though I had my doubts), and decided to go.
True to his nature, the ex-BF helped prepare for the trip by cleaning and packing my car, changing the oil and driving it to be inspected while I was at work. He mowed my lawn before we left. He did all of the driving to VA. He helped take care of the kids by going on all the crazy rollercoasters Hansel wanted to go on and indulging Gretel's every request to be carried, coddled and cuddled. He greeted my with a cup of coffee every morning when I woke up, cooked breakfast one morning for all six of us, helped with our laundry while there, ran errands and overall looked after everyone's emotional well-being.
Wow. Right?
The entire week I watched and realized how abundant my life is. How blessed I am to be surrounded by such generosity - from my Dad who made this vacation possible to my ex-boyfriend who wanted to do nothing more than take care of me and the kids.
I watched as this sweet man doted on us and wondered - why isn't it enough?
The days before my trip, my boss told me how good she thought he was for me. My therapist/friend asked if maybe he wasn't the one afterall. But then I realized that my boss is the same woman who, herself, is stuck in a co-dependent relationship. And who thinks my ex-husband should be made to pay for everything (child support + child care + camp + vacations + medical)because "what happens when you don't have the money to help pay for them?" Yeah, her opinion is a little clouded. And my therapist/friend is doing her job; asking me all the right questions to prompt me to do my own soul searching to make sure I know what I want.
That's precisely what I did. And for whatever reason, all of that is not enough. And as much as I tried to convince myself during our vacation and for the week after that he stayed at my house; making the effort to see, appreciate (and want) what I could have in him, I did not feel the desire to reconcile. Not this time.
Instead, my attention and desires are being pulled in another direction.
This time, I'm getting out of my own way, and taking that next step.

Clarity

These past two weeks have brought with them amazing clarity as to where my life has been, and where it's going.

This past Saturday, my family vacation trip with the kids and ex-BF officially came to an end. After two weeks (which was supposed to be one week but was unexpectedly extended for a week thanks to Hurricane Irene and my lack of babysitting resources), I dropped off the kids with their Dad, returned my ex-BF/vacation companion- turned-houseguest home, then spent the day ALONE...reflecting and recharging. I responded to the powerful call of nature and chose to go to a local lake preserve in search of a rumored waterfall. I have never been there, even though I spent half of my time for nearly a year just 10 minutes from it.
First I stopped in a local hippie town, did a little shopping in a tie-dye boutique, and picked up an appropo lunch (falafel sandwich). I plugged my desitination into my GPS and as I followed the windy mountain road, I found one entrance to the preserve was closed due to hurricane. The other was FULL.
I then realized I had no cash for parking nor was I dressed for hiking (croc sandals do not count as adequate hiking shoes!).
I adapted my plan and pulled onto a scenic overlook, climbed over the guard rail and sat meditating on one of three rocks, looking out over rural farms of the Hudson Valley, NY ... surrounded by grasshoppers, butterflies and three hawks who continuously circled overhead.

~ Grasshoppers=good luck and abundance.
~ Butterflies symbolize transformation.
~ Three is the number of creation.
~ Hawks are messengers, bringing clarity and healing.


I was reminded that day that the future I have been working so hard to create is becoming a reality with each passing day, with each step, every risk and every decision.
It may sometimes be hazy (as was my view from the mountainside that day), but I know its there.

My life (and myself) has gone through termendous tranformation over these past 2 years.
I'm no longer where I was, I may not where I'm going...but I am on my way.

(Oh yeah, and I will be returning to that lake preserve to find that waterfall!)

This Old House: Hidden Treasures

When he first tore up the carpet in Gretel's room, the ex-BF found this floorboard. Of course the first thing he did was open it to see if there was, in fact, a SAFE hidden inside. He came up empty. However, the next day, I returned to the house to take some photos of the "renovation" process and investigate on what my intuition was telling me a little further.

First I decided to take a picture of Gretel's room without any carpet, before we painted the unfinished (original wide-plank floors). I was standing directly on the "safe" floorboard when I took this picture.

Pretty colors, right?!

And ... once I previewed this picture on my digital camera, I had to overwhelming urge to open the floorboard up and take another look this time with flashlight in-hand.

First things I found - twigs, acorns and a dead Starling. (No I did not photograph the dead bird.) I'm guessing, by the amount of NOISE from the Starlings that have taken up nest in my gutters that the dried plant debris was brought in by the little guy who became trapped and couldn't figure his way back out.

A little further inside the hole, I recovered a leather button-up woman's shoe and some pieces of newspaper. See the scalloped-edged button holes?! I was the most excited about this discovery. The psychic whom I brought in said it belonged to an Aunt/relative who lived with the family who ran the house when it was an Inn. She tended to the guest rooms and took care of their two children. We believe she had a circulatory problem (diabetes?) which made walking somewhat difficult for her. She told my psychic friend that she would frequently spend her time sitting in a rocking chair, and that she was very happy for the Bentwood rocker I had brought in to the guest room.

Even farther down the space between the floorboards, about 6ft in,  I could see a large whiskey bottle and a children's wooden block - these were waaayyy out of reach. There was no way I could fit in there to retrieve them! Eventually, the exBF managed to drag them out with a broom handle.

The whiskey bottle, the psychic told me, belonged to the town drunk and was stolen during an act of boyhood mischief and then quickly hidden to avoid Father's wrath. The apothecary bottle belonged to the Father and she believes contained some kind of vitamin/health tonic - something he took every day. The wooden block? She told me it was left behind by a young patient of the local physician who frequently paid house calls if guests of the inn would fall ill.

Oh yeah, and we also found this remnant piece of fabric. I forgot to show it to my psychic friend, so I have no information on it. I'm not sure if it was a piece to the little girl's dress, or to a doll, or perhaps the pocket of an apron. Right now, I'm using it as a primitive doily beneath an oil lantern in the livingroom.

I was told there are more toys to be found in the house, as well as a hand fan that belonged to the elderly woman/Aunt/relative. The Father/Innkeeper wanted to know why there wasn't a sign posted at curbside denoting the house as an Inn because that's what is is/was. He also asked where the carriage stone had been put - and said it was still somewhere on the property. Give us a clue dude, and I'll make it right! Sheesh.

So far, I have been unable to get anyone from the local historical society to find any documentation proving the home's history. I'm going to keep looking.

I love this old house and the stories it has to tell. And I am enjoying getting to know the little children energies that are about, even if they are taunting Gretel a little. Kids will be kids - no matter what form they take! The difference is, they're dealing with me now. ;)