The tears have been dry since moving. I have felt anguish, but not tears. In September there was too much to do with too little time to give way to emotions. I needed the joy of knowing I still had precious time with people that, quite possibly, I may never see again. I wanted to have last moments together to cherish. We had so little time – find, pack, move, and assemble a new home. We wanted to find the joy for the boys in knowing that this was God’s plan, we are obedient servants, ready at a moments notice for change. Embrace all that the new place had for us. Yes, there were a couple of times that I found myself alone, boys with their dad, that I remembered, I could cry unashamedly right now, really let the pent up emotions out . . .and at that time, utter exhaustion kept them in.
We are surrounded by beauty, discovery and wonder. Triumphs at work and in in learning. Growth in our character and areas of academia. Getting to know local shop owners, people who work at the markets, where to get a good cup of joe, local beaches, the most amazing used books store ever (seriously, its like Amazon in physical form) - and yet, we havn’t met one personal friend.
We’ve gathered with a group on Weds nights, potluck and Bible study – but no children – no currently with kids at home moms. We’ve met wonderful people, but no connection. No kids. I can go days with Darren being the only adult I get to speak to. It has had its wonderfulness, but I wonder and pray for a friend, if not for me, at least for the boys. But we pull the boot straps up – and head to the beach with the dog, happy that we are our own best friends – I mean really – a family who REALLY loves each other, who’s to complain right?
But this morning – we visited a church that advertised youth groups and children’s church on Weds nights. A list of the oddities of visiting churches is a whole different post, but today – it was about not being seen. Not being anticipated. Seeing all the kids and families, joyful, but not seeing us. Almost as if we were on the other side of a glass partition. They played my favorite carols. The tears came on. Little ones at first. little leaky drips. The kids did a great corny job at the play – and the valve got turned on a bit more. Pulling out the paper napkin to catch the drips. Seeing the faces of friends gone by in the faces of those before me. A bit excited that I could see me here – and yet mad at myself for these crazy water works. I had almost turned them off, when I got a text telling me of the children’s program at a church in Bend. Yikes. Time to go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face. The more I tried to turn it off, the worse it got, and when the service was over, it was a slow dash to the car. We drove to the beach, cold rain, fog, wind, and no coats. Leashed up the dog for a mile walk, time to shake it off and talk with a friend. The sound of her voice was the final straw, and all of the emotion that had been locked up came out, and huge gushes of crying pursued.
So back to my original thought – Emotional Eating. I’ve read about it, watched shows on it. That’s not me. I don’t rush to the fridge at every whim of emotion. But today, oh the craving for Lindt & Sprungli Milk Chocolate, Tacos, Milkshakes, Caramel Macchiato. Maybe the reason I’ve not known myself to be an emotional eater is that I’m VERY seldom this raw sad upset. Who Knew? Sigh. Missing my friends, watching the rain outside to match my wind swept emotions.
Go find a person who is alone for the holidays and invite them to lunch.
Posting not for an ad to be a stay at home mom with a husband who frequently gets transferred, but as a raw transparent view, so you know you’re not the only one. :)