SunMonday

It was a terribly rough night...not because Riley didn't spend the night in the garage but because Buddy had a difficult time getting comfortable, to sleep. She didn't eat much of her food yesterday so this morning, I have added pain pills to her treats to help her be comfortable. All in all I believe I experienced about two hours of sleep and this morning upon awakening, my eyes were swollen and puffy, my mind fuzzy and strength waning. I could have soldiered on to church but deep inside and not because of rain, the right decision meant staying home.

Last night I did a last call for Riley to come in around 9:00 pm. She was sitting on one of the big rocks and when she heard her name, she went running...not toward the garage but to the opening in the fence and escaped to the other side. I told Roy, Riley has made her choice and so I cannot worry or be anxious over her decision but trust she will be fine. At that particular time not knowing how the night would go and being awake most of the night, well, if any signal of distress came from her...to her rescue would be easier than awakening from deep sleep...oh deep sleep, so missed you. No call of distress was issued. It rained off and on and the wind chimes indicated there was just a bit of wind, but the temps didn't leave the 40's overnight. When I came downstairs this morning, I looked out the window and no sign of Riley or the kiddos, so Buddy and I went about our morning of coffee and treats, repeat, repeat, repeat. A little before 10:00 am, there was a slight movement in the holly bush and that patch of  white fur showing through the leaves. It was a moment to debate, do I call or just leave her alone. The decision was to call but not to prolong and see what choice she made. Called out Riley, and she emerged from her hiding, sat on a big rock, groomed a bit and then came inside the garage. Gave her some treats and she allowed a few head rubs, got her some food and let her be for a bit. This afternoon holds the opportunity for more rain showers, so, we will see about letting her back out. I did not stay home this morning in hopes of seeing Riley. It still feels a bit iffy about her surgery on Wednesday but that decision doesn't have to be made today.

This past week because of the Houston Chronicle article on Southern Baptist churches and the decades of not dealing with sexual abuse in congregations has had a lot of triggers, bringing up experiences and memories that have shown up at the darnedest time for me. Thankfully, not anything that I've read or heard has catapulted me back into that dangerous/needy/helpless feelings, place. It hasn't been a place of lament or why. It feels like going through a checklist of life and seeing yes, this happened because of this thing. Oh yes, that's the reason a circumstance melted into trauma and chaos so quickly. Last year I found myself asking the questions, why did my father think this? Why did he do that? How could anyone be so cruel? What kind of faulty thinking makes these kinds of decisions? Then one morning, by chance a friend from high school posted an article on Facebook about narcissists that explained behaviors and expectations if you're involved with one...That morning my questions were answered and developed an understanding on so many situations and times early on in life. In the midst of this revelation, it became so evident of the things I did right by the grace of God and the things I did wrong, happened cause I had no idea of what the heck our lives were in.

So, this morning, after reading rave reviews and ordering when first released, then banished to the to be read pile, I picked up The Last Arrow by Erwin Raphael McManus. He is a favorite author and his book Stand Against The Wind has played a pivotal role on this journey. Into the second chapter of engaging reading, this thought pops into my head...a memory from Branson Missouri and our last family vacation of four.

Our family of four took two cars to travel to my grandparents 50th anniversary celebration in Illinois. We took two cars because my parents owned two Ford Mavericks and those cars would not hold four people and luggage. I got stuck in the car with my father. My brother has told me that while he and Mom followed us, they commiserated in sympathy for the situation I was in. He was never comfortable to be around. On our way back to Houston, we detoured to Branson Missouri where we took our last family vacation together. Now, this was before Branson became BRANSON. We had gone to the performance of Shepherd of the Hills and had stopped afterwards at a ice cream shop or something in those lines. My father ordered everyone an ice cream cone and I asked if I could have a Dr Pepper instead. His reaction was so over the top, you would have thought I had wanted a steak dinner instead of ice cream. He was visibly upset at my non conformation and told me to go sit down at a table. He ordered and then brought back three of the largest ice cream cones and the smallest ever Dr Pepper served in a small dixie cup meant for water and he glared at me. His glares could break you because such hatred and malice filled his eyes and the overflow contorted the rest of his face. When he was this enraged, a bit of spittle rested in the corners of his mouth and he asked sneeringly, how was that Dr Pepper. Tears welled up of course and the response to him, good. But the tears and the downcast look gave him the victory he always went for. I didn't know it then or maybe I didn't know the depth of it but he used every opportunity to drive home this point, I was to have no life other than the life path he determined. At this point in life I had gone away to college, he had never been too happy about that and in my attempt to transfer to Baylor, he squashed those hopes and now life would be back in Houston, attending U of H, living at home. You might be thinking, Nancy, it was just a Dr Pepper. No, nothing was ever just random....it all had  meaning, hidden meaning. I have written before that life with father was just a series of secret tests that no one could ever pass.

Now, here is an accompanying thought that came with the above memory, never putting the two together, I had another encounter on the way to Branson that involved a Dr Pepper and root beer. Roy and I had been in OKC working on an audit and instead of coming home, our crazy friend Debbie told us we should go to the Passion Play in Hot Springs, Arkansas because it was only a four hour drive....hmm...very reminiscent of Gilligan's Island...three hour tour. When you have named someone my crazy friend________, one should review timelines and travel destinations cause she was WRONG! It was more like a 6-7 hour drive and that is when the famous Roy dumping his Big Gulp Root Beer on my head happened. I was so angry, we had taken the wrong road, making the trip even longer and so much internal strife and frustration that had nothing to do with Roy overflowed but it just happened to be that Roy was there in the car and he took the brunt of my anger. To cool me off, he dumped his whole Big Gulp on my head. We didn't speak to one another until we arrived at the hotel, checking in, with my root beer matted hair and my lavender business suit forever stained with said root beer. The hotel clerk was at a loss for words with this vision of beauty standing right there at the front desk. Of course this made Roy and I bust out laughing once we got to our room.  We never made it to the play but spent the rest of the weekend in Branson.

You might be thinking, Branson Missouri hasn't been good to you, maybe you should stop going there. Uh yes, we have. About fifteen years ago one Christmas, my father proposed that our whole family, now having spouses and Doug, children, should go to Branson and he would foot the bill. Wow, talk about lots of panic in the room...I responded that we had different ideas of what vacation looked like, they didn't mesh...so thank you  but no thank you. But until this morning it hadn't dawned on me that although there were two episodes of soda water, one was done in malice and the other one just to stop me at that moment from ranting and raving. One was done in hate and one was done in love...no really. I grimace at the first account and laugh about the second. Thankfully, the second instance was about our second or third year of marriage. Happy to report there hasn't ever had to be a repeat, by either Roy or me.