Saturday, April 30, 2011


I will not resign because my resignation will not resolve anything, and I’m pretty persistent.  That has been my mantra as a wife and mother all these years. I have kept chirping, kept nagging, kept on pushing Kerry for a more positive outlook and better treatment of the people he loves. I give the kids the same treatment... not to drink to excess, not to smoke, to appreciate the jobs they have been given, to realize life is a journey, not a destination and it goes by fast, its all about experience...etc...etc..etc...
 I check on Sydney constantly, afraid she will be abducted, the victim of crime or commit a crime, by driving after too one to many drinks with her friends. Here in AZ, that means an automatic ten days in tent city. I don’t know who that would be harder on…her or me. I worry about Brendon’s health and Shelbey’s commute to work every day among other things.  Tell me how you don’t worry about things? How do you switch gears from following your toddlers around so they don’t get hurt, protecting your grade school kids from bullies, trying to guide your teens to a bright future only to say,"ca sera sera, whatever will be will be", once they are adults! I haven’t known how to do that.  
After I heard from a couple of doctors that the stress in my life is playing a big part in the health problems I have, I decided I needed to resign from all the worries I can somehow. I kind of had a head start on the stress between Kerry and me. Even though at times I feel guilty for being here, when he wants me there, I feel justified. I think it's best to take care of what I have built here in Phx, and he can join me when he can, after he does some more work his aggression and anger.
When it comes to resigning my mother worries, I reason with myself, saying the kids are all adults now they can make their own decisions. After all, they have snarled that sentiment to me on occasion, they are probably waiting for me to stop mothering them. I like to mother so much, that I take on mothering kids that aren’t even my own!  But my own kids are my life, and the blood that runs through my veins.  To stop fussing over the kids leaves a huge, empty, almost scared feeling. I wonder if I stop fussing about them, would I be a good mother anymore?  If I’m not a good wife or good mother then what am I?
One of mine and Kathy’s favorite movies when we were kids was, With Six You Get Eggroll, starring Brian Keith and Doris Day. When you watch those old movies, you definitely see where my generation formed our ideas like, it’s our responsibility to do everything for everybody. The men were were crabby and in control.
Here’s a summary of the work I have done lately on resignation. I have decided that resignation is really just adding God to the equation.  It is easier for me to resign if I turn my job over to someone who can do it even better than me although thats hard for me to fathom. Resignation puts God between me and my worries. I have a little sign by my light switch when I go to bed that says, “Let God Worry About It, He Stays Up All Night Anyway”.  It’s been there forever, but last night I really saw it, really let the words sink in. Sydney was out (I’m so tired of worrying about kids being out, and wonder if I will like the weekend ever again), I snapped the light out and went to bed. I didn't call her and I didnt check with her. 

 I felt strange this morning, disconnected from what she did, but determined to ride it out until it becomes a more comfortable feeling... this not checking on her thing. I’ve decided to let go and let God direct them, I won’t be around forever and it doesn’t work anyway, it just stresses me out. Resignation doesn’t have to mean quit, just submit to his plan for them and me for that matter.  I’m reminding myself that God is much more quailfied for this job than me.
That said, I’m going to dinner and a movie (Water for Elephants), with Marcy tonight. Syd's going out, the big kids are camping,  Kerry’s on a run and God’s watching over the whole bunch of us!  Whew what a relief!  

No comments:

Post a Comment