My Emily

The other night I was reminiscing about the day Emily was born and someone asked me how I remembered all of that. My answer? I remember everything about the pregnancies and births of each of my kids. I ordinarily have an awful memory, but something about those times in my life has left indelible marks within me.
Emily turned 12 years old the other day. Twelve. That is a whole new realm. (sporadic heartbeats occurring) She is in middle school, has tons of friends, talks on her cell phone all of the time, and has an obsession with a certain Hollywood vampire. Pretty typical, really. She is a very well adjusted, happy 12 year old. But, she's twelve...
When I found out I was pregnant with her, I was an unmarried 20 year old with a less than stellar record. I was a really crazy kid. But the moment, sitting in the upstairs bathroom of my Grandma's house, when the two lines appeared, changed my life in an instant. I cherished the life that grew within me. I was thankful for the rescue of my life that it represented. I read every book I could read and prepared in every way possible for this new little person. Tucker and I were married and began our lives as young, completely naive, children playing adults. Overnight we grew up. The transformation was immediate, and enormous. There was no other option.
Emily was born on the coldest day of the year. Perhaps God's way of shaking us awake and saying, "Here you go, get ready!" There was our Emily. More beautiful than anyone could have ever imagined. Everything I knew about life up until that point was suddenly void. All that matter was this angel squirrming in my arms.
Now she is 12. Twelve! How has it been twelve years? It feels like one of those movies where they fast forward a decade in the next clip. I watched her grow into the beautiful young woman (breathe in, breathe out) that she is, yet somehow, I feel as though I just brought her home from the hospital.
It is inevitable that our little chicks grow up and fly away. People have been telling me that since the beginning. I just can not fathom that one day that means that that precious, little newborn will be off in the world without me.

A Little Drop Of Rain

I was recently talking to a single friend of mine who claimed his life was so different from my cushy, suburban lifestyle, that I would be "terrified" to live in his shoes. This all stemming from a conversation on responsibility and growing up. I believe I was somehow meant to feel inadequate to handle his "edgy" life. Oh, my.
Terrified. Yep, I have been there on more than one occasion, but honestly, "a little drop of rain can hardly hurt me now."
These are lyrics from a favorite song of mine. It would be hard to find many words as true. You get to a certain point in your life, through certain circumstances, where your soul has literally grown armor to withstand tragedy. I have had my fair share.
I do not wish to in any way downplay the experiences anyone else has been through, by claiming mine were more tragic. I believe we all get our fair share. But my life challenges belong to me, and have made me who I am.
This friend announced in this conversation that he is an atheist. Hmmm.... for so many reasons I did not know how to respond to this. It seems often times this is the card rebellious teenagers pull when they are hoping for shock value. My theory is that he is in the same place in his life for whatever reason. So, supposing he is an atheist, yep, I would be terrified to be in his life. Without the love and guidance from our Lord, being completely susceptible to evil...yep, I wouldn't want to be there. On the other hand, suppose he was just blowing smoke about the whole atheist thing to make some point. Again, I would be terrified. Last time I checked it is not a smart move to denounce God for any reason. I am not sure he is terrified enough, but unfortunately he is still in that "if it feels good- do it stage." Ahh, we were all young once right?
A little drop of rain can hardly hurt me now. It took me so long to get to this point, and on some days, I still run screaming from those little drops. But I know one thing for certain. God is with us. At all times. Whether we want Him there or not. He knows our troubles and He knows the outcomes. He promises us an everlasting life in His kingdom. Our earthly troubles are so inconsequential compared to the Glory of God our Father. This is why I know that I can handle whatever it is that is in my path. This is why I will not become "terrified" in the way that this friend expects. This is where the armor has come from.
I hope my friend is able to enlighten himself enough to realize that he will not lose his "edginess" by committing his life to God. Perhaps, he might find that all of the things in his life that are missing, might suddenly be found. He too, can learn to walk in the rain.

Sweet Caroline's

Somehow, somewhere, I picked up the fine art of obsessive cookie making. Don't know how this has come to be, but it has, and it has consumed my life!
When Emily was a little baby I tried making press out sugar cookies, because I thought that that what mommies were supposed to do. It was a disaster. I was so frustrated that I swore off cookie baking for years after.
When I moved to Columbus, my mother in law gave me her large stash of cookie cutters. I thought they were so neat because they represented pieces of my husband's childhood. From time I would come across them and think about trying to bake again, but life just always got in the way.
Over the past few years I have begun to get back into baking. Slowly I have been tweaking my recipes and methods and I have become quite fond of it! Through the encouragement of a dear friend I have slowly begun to "advertise' my cookies. To my utter shock and surprise I have gotten a phenomenal response that has kept me very busy. It really is something that i am actually profiting from something that I was so dismally bad at a few years ago!!
I do not hope or expect to be a world-famous gourmet cookie maker. I do not believe my new hobby in any way will allow me to quit my day job. I am excited to be able to share this new talent with my friends and people I care about. I want to know that these cookies make people smile!

Desperate Housewife

I'm a desperate housewife. I hate to admit it, but it's true. And if more women would admit it, I bet they would say the same for themselves.
I have a good life. 4 beautiful and healthy kids. A loving husband. A roof over my head. Enough money to meet our needs. Great friends.
Yet, I am desperate.
I think the conflict comes from the fact that deep within me, in the part of me that seems so hidden at times, I am still the teenager from so many years ago. Anyone who knew me in those days would be frightened to realize that I still identified with that person IN ANY WAY.
I never got in any real trouble, but my life was a whirlwind of constant drama. I was incredibly emotional. My highs were as high as the heavens and my depths were as low as the pits of hell. I dreamed so large and my behaviors so often were crazy and without thought.
I used to sing. I lived to sing. I would have aching in my heart to be heard. I was never a very good "technical" singer and it stood in my way from really going anywhere. But when I was put with the right creative soul, who would let me just go, it was awesome. I can still remember the intoxication of the applause. (How narcissistic) All of my fantasies would include me on stage somewhere wowing a crowd. It has been over seven years since I have sang publically. I rarely even sing in the shower anymore.
I used to honestly feel that if I walked the straight and narrow, then I would be selling out; that to be me, I had to go where my emotions led me- safe or not. Those years were often so destructive.
Every now and then, I catch a glimpse of the Line from years past. Sometimes it will be after hearing a certain song, and I can feel her tugging to get out. Sometimes its during a ferocious thunderstorm, and the solace is so overwhelming that I am reminded how I used to allow myself to literally get lost in them. But more often than not these days, she is buried so deep inside me that I forget she ever existed. I am Mommy now. I am Ms. Hearn. There are responsibilities. The luxury of being able to wrap up completely in the world, just is obsolete.
I really do love my place in the world. I love being a mother and a wife and a teacher. It's nice to have security and stability.
But still, sometimes, deep within the most hidden recesses of my soul I can feel her. And as desperate as she is to come out and let loose, I am reminded that I am a housewife now, and in my soul she will remain.

The "New" Me

Tomorrow I am going to a meeting at the church where I have been worshipping. During this meeting, I will learn more about Methodism and the church and begin to make the decision on whether or not I will officially "join the church."
This is such a huge deal for me. I grew up Catholic. Everyone in my family is Catholic and Catholicism is a really big part of my history. I married a devout Catholic and baptized my four children in the Catholic church. But for a long time I have felt that it is not who I really am. Over the past several years I have gradually felt more and more lost within the Catholic church. Although the familiarity was comforting, I was feeling more and more isolated. I prayed that the Holy Spirit would enter my heart and show me what to do. I kept waiting and waiting.
Tucker and I went through a major adjustment period about a year ago. It was a time where we both had to take a serious look at who we were, and who we wanted to be. Hiding behind what was comfortable had to be put aside to find what was authentic. It was during this time that I began attending a non-Catholic church -alone. My life began to change. My marriage began to change. Most importantly my heart began to change. This was the work of the Holy Spirit. This was the answer to my prayers.
Although, me attending this new church meant a division on Sunday mornings at my house. Tucker and some of the kids would go to one church and I and the rest of the kids would go to another. It was not an easy choice, but it was without a doubt the right choice.
I have taken this past year slowly. I have not denounced my Catholic roots (nor will I ever). I have not claimed to be Methodist. I have just begun to build my heart back up, and learn to truly love the Lord once again. I am at the point now, where I think I am ready to take the next step and fully embrace my new spiritual home.
I thank God for so much. I thank Him for giving me an understanding and supportive husband. I thank Him for giving me the courage to branch away from what was "easy." But most of all I thank Him for making His presence so available and abundant; to allow me to learn and love in a way I never thought I could; and to carry me when I was to weary too try and find my way by myself. I really think I am on the right track now. I am excited to meet the new me.

All in the Family

My mother had 3 kids in 3 1/2 years. The thought of putting my body through that, sends it into shock. But that was how we grew up; like stair steps. (until my brother outgrew my sister, which happened pretty early on) Despite the unavoidable sibling bickering, we still managed to play together those early years. My sister Beth tells the story of how we used to play Star Wars. She, of course, was Princess Leia, Bryan acted as Hans Solo, and I played the role of "baby storm trooper." Then of course there are the memories of "baptizing" our dolls in the bathroom sink. What Catholic child does not share in this? And who could forget the ten plus hour drives to and from Pennsylvania in the back of the station wagon.? The three of us would cram in like sardines; constantly shifting in the hopes that somehow a comfortable position would possibly be found.
Fast forward.
My sister has two beautiful little girls. They are both special and unique, yet both have unmistakable likenesses to my sister. I had the pleasure of having her girls stay with me for a week this summer. At times, as I looked into one of her daughters' eyes or listened as they spoke, I felt like I was being pulled back 25 years to the days of those cramped back seats. I saw things in her girls that I didn't remember I knew, and wouldn't have expected to be refamiliarized with. As different as my nieces are from my sister, as well as each other, the commonalities they share are incredible.
It really is an amazing thing, that our children carry with them so much of us. They are literally pieces of who we are. Their children will be pieces of them. For better or for worse, we do go on.
As I look back on the hundreds of pictures I took of my 4 children as well as my sister's two, I see two parrallel childhoods; the one I shared with my siblings, and the one our children will share together. The gift of family truly transcends the here and now. Family, no matter how often you are with them, how readily you accept them, or how strong the bond, is always within you. The thought, really should inspire us all to be the type of family that anyone would chose.

Catharsis

I have never been a "nature-y" type of person. I can appreciate the beauty in the outdoors, but it is usually quickly replaced with the fear that an unwanted critter is going to come out from under a log and "get me." I prefer to enjoy the less dirty/buggy confines of the great indoors.
Despite my aversion to all things nature, I have an uncommon adoration of the ocean. This has not always been true. As a child, I was terrified of the ocean, (see above reasons) and would often spend entire beach trips asleep on a towel. But as an adult, I have become almost mesmerized by the power and tranquility of this absolutely uncontainable entity. I can sit on the shoreline and stare out into the everlasting waters for entire days. I get lost out there. I think about nothing and everything. There is a strength and a calmness there, that I believe does not exist anywhere else outside of the kingdom of God. I am so thankful every time I am able to experience that beauty.
At least once a year, I find it necessary to make the pilgrimage if for nothing else than to recharge my mental batteries. I find nothing else to be anywhere near as cathartic. I return from my trip with a new vigor to take on what comes to me; a strength only possible through those healing waters.
Thankfully we were able to spend time in the Gulf this summer. I, as always, am ready to take the world on now...at least until next time.