from blisters to strength

I just got back from one of my nights with MS (actually MD, now). We did our traditional walk from my house to the end of 16^th Street Mall and back again, with a stop at the Cheesecake factory. This time we split a meal and got side salads instead of cheesecake. Very few things, besides writing, are as healing to me as walking. We walked so much the bottoms of my feet have blisters. These walks are the definition of our friendship. We both take equal time being completely self-absorbed and completely there for each other. Pretty beautiful. Through it all I have been so blessed with a litany of true, true friends that have been there for me (with me, even better) through so much. And here they still are. On a side note, I think it says a lot for who Chad is, who Chad truly is, the character of the man, that not one of my friends has said (even though several are mad at him) that I am better off. And, there hasn’t been one break up before (not that there any were like this one) where they haven’t said that.

I’ve talked about it before, I must bring it up again. I am constantly humbled by the women at my work. The strength that comes from this group of women is a torrent. The same weekend that Chad left, I went to school the following Monday and was talking to a part time second grade teacher who was going to retire next year. Her husband of over twenty years (they have two teenagers living at home), without warning, left her and his family. She was stunned, felt that he had become someone she had never even seen before and was left wondering which version of himself was the real one. She now is raising the two kids on her own, and she can no longer retire. In fact, she is now going to be the full time fourth grade teacher next year. I am sure she breaks down at home, but to look at her at work, you would never know. She is just as professional and dedicated to the students as ever. Where, in contrast, there are still days where I have to rush out of the classroom and duck into the nearest bathroom to break down for a bit. In addition, I am losing my mind. I had a huge, important Tri today (it is an IEP meeting that is a very substantial legal document/process for kids in special education). I opened it up yesterday to finish writing it. I thought I had a little less than half to finish. When I opened it, I saw that I had not done anything. Nothing. I remember writing it. However, I hadn’t. I hadn’t even sent out meeting notices, and I set up the meeting over a month ago. Thing after thing is like that right now. I am NEVER late on things at work. At the end of the school there are countless things due and that have to be done. Not only am I late on everyone them, most I haven’t even started, not because I am putting them off, I simply can’t remember that I have to do them. I am dreading summer, but it is a good thing it is only a week away, or I would probably loose my job.

On the track of strong women at work, another teacher (one of the most graceful, classy women I have ever met) was talking about her life the other day after work. I was late to workout and ended up not going so that I could stay and listen as she casually talked to some of the other special education teachers. By the time she finished, I was in tears (must be a day that ends in Y at the moment, right?). She has two adopted daughters, one with severe physical handicaps, that were not present at adoption, that are both life threatening and costly. The other daughter (both are grown now, although the first still has to live at home) has several emotional problems, and literally made life hell in their home four about eight years. As she spoke, through her own tears, she graceful expressed her immense love for both her girls, and also told of the days she thought she was going walk away from her family, her marriage, her commitment to her children, because she didn’t think she had the strength to withstand the pain and torment any longer. There is story after story like that with most of these women, from cheating/abusive husbands, to horrific children, to battles with cancer, to deaths of spouses, on and on and on.

I know that so many have been through so much more pain than I have, and have handled it with so much more grace and strength than I have. It doesn’t lessen my pain or grief or even anger, but it does cause me to stop and admire the strength and grace God provides us (even those who don’t necessarily turn to Him).