As the day of the kids' departure drew closer, I began to panic a little as I looked at the still-adorned Christmas tree and the myriad of decorations dotting our home. Packing-up Christmas alone is awful. My daughter has been a real Godsend these last few, sad years -- not leaving me to face the daunting task on my own. This year, my son was a great help, as well -- patiently hoisting all the boxes upstairs and very neatly putting them back into the attic. Taking down the tree is particularly difficult for me. I pretty much weep over every ornament, remembering where it came from and associating it with Christmases past. As the kids get older, I have a harder and harder time differentiating their personal ornaments, which we pack separately. I really needed both kids to sort those and get them packed before they left. Thankfully, the tree is now perched atop the burn pile and the boxes are stowed away for another year. Now I can put my attention to the dread task of preparing for the taxes and the requisite FAFSA.
It's always a post-Christmas curse -- working through mountains of receipts and credit card statements in order to itemize all of our income and expenses. Once accomplished, however, taxes -- both corporate and personal, FAFSA and assistance from my financial advisor become way more straightforward. Still, it's a nightmare when you're like me and don't keep up with such stuff. I think I have at least six months' worth of bank statements never even opened, let alone reconciled!
Way back when the kids were wee and David was healthy and a young, very upwardly-moble professional, he handled all of our bill paying, banking and taxes. This may surprise many who only knew him since his diagnosis and change in vocation -- but it was David who purchased a new and exciting software program, Quicken, and itemized every last cent spent -- and was one of the first in line to purchase the brand new, life-changing Turbo Tax software. (Wait, Turbo Tax wasn't the first one -- it was something else, but the point is the same.) He was very organized in his mind and in his behavior. His office was neat. He kept up with all the financial stuff so that he never faced what I'm facing right now -- and he accomplished it all pretty painlessly. When all of that responsibility got turned over to me in the aftermath of his diagnosis and subsequent life changes, I did not handle it as well. I was adding it to my already billowing list of responsibilities, which altogether became more and more overwhelming. I have never recovered.
Throughout the last decade and a half, I generally spent most of the month of December working through all the financials and was pretty much incapable of getting the tax data to our accountant before mid-February at the earliest -- so I stopped doing it in December and started punishing myself in January instead. I'm putting it off another day by writing this blog! I always hope and plan to stay more up-to-date each year. Maybe this year it will happen! I've been planning a computer swap for a while now -- and finishing the financial work will get me a step closer to that, which will result in a notebook computer that I could keep in the kitchen, where I may be much more likely to enter expenditures and reconcile a bank statement upon receipt. Guess I'll have to wait and see whether or not my really wise plan sees fruition. That mental energy factor will be key. It continues to ebb and flow ... mostly ebb.
But I've had to move my old computer downstairs into David's office -- mostly untouched since the last time I wrote about it. Somehow, the desk had been cleared, so I have some workspace. My son helped me to move it and connect all the cables. Lo and behold, David's old laser printer worked without any snags -- no searching for drivers or anything! I didn't know it was still functional and my laser broke down last year. This is a coup. The CPU is now hard-wired to the ethernet, so I'm back in business. Now to begin attacking the mountains of paperwork ... Not surprisingly, I am writing this on my notebook in my kitchen. David's office still smells like David's office -- his things are still in there -- all over place. I'm going to have to work up to spending long segments of time in there. Perhaps it will be a motivation to more purposefully undertake the task of dismantling his life.
I struggle with happiness. I struggle with the near mandate (or actual mandate) to rejoice in the Lord because I have a hard time rejoicing in anything, so I sometimes feel guilty about this. I'm not one to dwell on the sinfulness of mankind, but more on the loving, merciful, saving Grace of the Lord, but I often feel like my "failure" to love my life is sinful -- sort of a waste of God's creation. I do know that God knows my heart -- my sorrow, my brokenness -- as well as my faithfulness, my service and my desires so I'm not beating myself up over this. I'm just aware of it. I find great comfort in the two first Beatitudes: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. (The Greek can also mean that not only are the poor in spirit and mournful blessed by God, but that they bless others. I think that's beautiful.) I know that God is patiently waiting for me to get to that place of joyfulness, but for now, being blessed and being a blessing is where I am -- where He has me. It's okay. For now. What I really need to figure out is how to do all this "paper"work joyfully -- remembering to pray for the mental energy and being mindful of the gratification of completing good work. Sounds like a plan! But tomorrow, it will be daunting again.
Today's sermon was about the true nature of worship. Kierkegaard's "Theater of Worship" was the model. It made me remember good old Dr. MacKenzie teaching the "Religio-Philosophical Dimension of Life" at Grove City. Anyway, the point is that God is the audience and we are the performers -- praising, confessing, and responding. Though I never finished reading Rick Warren's "Purpose Driven Life," I believe he borrowed heavily on Kierkegaard's thinking regarding Worship. So my question -- my conundrum -- is how to worship fully RIGHT NOW. I have an added element, perhaps an obstacle, but not necessarily. Continuing with the "Theater" metaphor, I am a "prompter" more than I am a "performer." I participate in worship nearly every Sunday through music. Rather than being a plain old congregant being prompted and performing for God, I'm a middleman. I'm playing descants and cueing cut-offs for the choir -- following the bulletin to see when I have to get up and do something. It can, and often does, detract from my worship performance. It sounds strange, but it is true. I think this is why a pastor friend of mine found an alternative church to attend -- to worship as a performer, rather than a prompter. Food for thought.
So back to the alone part. Nearly my entire adult life I worshipped "alone," that is, David was out of town on Sundays at least a third to a fourth of the time. Always a prompter, I had other companions in the choir loft, for example -- but worshipping beside a spouse is different. For me, it made worship more complete -- and now I never experience that fullness of cleaving. I always have and continue to grieve a little for others who worship alone -- those who are single, widowed, or divorced -- and particularly for those whose spouses simply do not worship. After David died, my worship environment wasn't altered much, but I moved into that space -- single worshippers -- with involuntary certainty. I still had my children beside me (and they were often prompters, too). But now I never have him by my side. I also no longer receive sweet, intermittent text messages from David, rebelliously giving me a glimpse into his worship experience that day -- sort of placing us side by side. This fall, I grew accustomed to the absence of my kids. My pew space requirements keep getting smaller and smaller (we have chairs, but I prefer my metaphor).
I guess it's just the same old broken record. Poor old Leslie -- sitting alone in church -- going home to an empty house -- getting up in silence and having to brew my own dang coffee. This isn't natural and I don't like it. Poo hoo. But I'm gonna' try a new "worship" theater -- my office. I'm going to bring God in there with me and praise Him when I get a good chunk accomplished. I'm going to play music and sing along -- performing for Him -- glorifying Him -- and being thankful. I guess I'll have to report on my progress, won't I. Oh look ... I need to do laundry!
Leslie,
ReplyDeleteI hate being alone in an empty house. I thought the holidays were going to be the hardest but I have found out that January is really the hardest. All the kids were here and now gone.
Thinking of you,
Teresa