Thursday, September 4, 2008

Shattered




















My brother just visited me for 2 weeks and it was really great. Once he realized I like to wash my muddy trail running shoes in the dishwasher, we got along just fine.
"Ew.. I guess I'll wash them by hand."
Great guy. Not only does he tolerate my peculiar (although effective) habits, he does dishes too.
He was there to paint my living room and patch up the house. At least that's what it looked like to the neighbors. Really he was there because my heart was broken. Patching the house and doing the landscaping were his way of showing love and support.

And it was HOT in Topeka.
He dug up daylilies which are nearly impossible to kill.
"I am lion, hear me roar!"
He had a huge bulb that looked like the trunk of a small tree in his hands. A former daylily from the area by the side of the house. That strip is now cheerfully spread with easy to manage red chip bark.
I need low maintainance when it comes to gardening.
"I can't beleive the Republicans think the Mexicans are taking jobs from Americans. No
American in their right mind would suffer through this work like a Mexican day laborer."
That is unless they love their sister.

I started to feel better.
Then my heart shattered. The pieces went everywhere and my brother didn't know what to do.
So he picked up the one nearest him.

And one by one my beautiful friends stepped up.
Stephanie, you were first and by design most constant. Listening with reckless abandon. Meeting me each day to work out, even when I didn't show up. You gave me hugs at work. You ran with me at 11 o'clock at night when my brain was about to explode. Most important you make me proud. Because you're running and growing as a woman. You put hope on your piece, and honesty.

Amy: You live in Hong Kong. Yet your love and strenth cross oceans. You took the time to compile a CD of songs to inspire me and to remind me of all the wonderful times we've had together. Your taste is truly ecclectic, from Chinese folk song to Poppie Pop music. Many would see yours as a dream life. A husband you love, two beautiful children and homes around the world. But when you see me, it's clear and you tell me so I know it's true... I am YOUR inspiration. And it's an honor. Thank you for asking for training programs and never giving up on your dream of being a distance running. Your piece holds my inspiration and it feels very loved.

Karen: You were there when my heart broke. You hugged me. You smiled and said how pretty I looked in my cute little dress. And all I could do was cry. But I had to go to work. One week later you sent me a card via snail mail. Since no one uses that anymore, it was special. You made your little piece special.

Laurel: Your insight in honest and pure. You paint a picture of truth. You also help me with my overcommittments which helps me get through each day. Like designing a program.
Your talents are so underestimated and it makes me happy to know that I understand you better than so many people. The little peice of my heart that you are nurturing right now is probably the strongest, and it's because of you. One day I hope to pay you back. Your piece has found it's ambition again.

Kelley: your piece is unique. You talk to it about work. You run with it. You listen and worry you aren't responding as you should. But all it needs is your special kind of love. Your love is so similar to what it lost, it makes you wonderful. Irreplacable. Don't be mistaken. You are nuturing and understanding too. I feel your spirit always. Your piece is oddly connected to the one I lost. So it's going to take a little more time to heal. But you are patient, and let the peice think out of the box. So it just might be ok.

Coleen: Your anger, not directed at me, is sincere. And oddly it gives me power. I know I can trust you because you say what you feel, not what you think I want to hear. You are always supportive, and lend an important perspective to a very difficult piece of my heart. And when I can barely run-- and gasp for breath on a rocky rooty trail, your hand extends to me. I make it through. I make it through. Your piece is stubborn. But you are working to train it.



Clare: Like a mother ship you keep me on course. When I stray in the wrong direction, you steer me home to what really matters. Crickets, a ceiling fan and the sweet soaring sounds of playing my violin. When I'm hurting and just can't put it into words. You can always explain why. Thank you for bringing me out of the crazy part of my head and imbedding me in what is deep and strong. You've painted your little peice with maps and charts to help it find it's way home.

Cindy: You are 100% fun. You've got your little peice of heart doing cartwheels. Bopping around the Power and Light district, dancing by the moonlight--or in a crazy bar, and meeting lots and lots of new and exciting friends. Gasp. I don't have to think about anything but having fun when I'm with you, and right now that's so important. What's peculiar, is that you say I'm YOUR most fun friend. hmmm.

Debbie: I saved you for last. You may be holding more than one piece. You listened. You suggested. You encouraged me to call the therapist over and over. And when I went, he suggested and encouraged me in the same ways you did. You may not be a professional, but your insight is incredible. Almost scary that someone can see as clearly as you do. You see reality. Not through rose colored glasses, but sharp 20/20 vision. When I am afraid, you give me strength. And you are relentless in your love, nurturing and encouragment. It is only a small percentage of women who are what you are. You are my hero and the Superhero MudBabe. The peices you hold.... are starting to beat again.


10 Beautiful girlfriends who love me for who I am and one incredible brother.
I am blessed. Truly.

Healing is a long process, even when the peices are all together. But not unlike my brother.. I too am a lion. Hear me Roar!



Muddy hugs

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