Saturday, February 28, 2009

Tough Choices

My dorm has strict rules about wearing your pajamas in the lounge. There are no pajamas permitted in the lounge or the stairwells until after curfew. This is basically a precaution so that we do not have girls running around in slutty pjs while there are boys in the dorm. I can understand that.

My mistake:

I changed into my pajamas early.
I made myself rice.
I did not eat all of my rice.
The refrigerator is on bottom floor.
I am on top floor.
I want to go to bed.

My dilemma: In order to put the rice in the refrigerator I would have to change into actual clothing to run it downstairs.

My choice: I am waiting until midnight when I will be allowed in the stairs with my pajamas so that I can put away my rice and go to bed.

Life is defined by frustrating, difficult choices.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

God's Provision

Why is it, that when you think you simply cannot handle one more thing in life--you get that one more thing.

That seems to happen to me quite a bit.

Since my mum's death and my return to school I've taken comfort in being constantly wrapped in the arms of friends. It really has been so wonderful to see how God has provided for me. One friend in particular I was very close with. We made a habit of talking whenever we had the chance and being very open with each other.

Two days ago, this friend told me that they did not want this pressure of being my emotional stronghold and that we should not talk anymore.

Surprisingly, this has not crushed my spirit. This friend meant the world to me but I do not need them to live and be happy.

I recieved a package yesterday from my friend Sula. Inside was a pair of brightly colored socks, watercolor pencils, paints, paper, new brushes, and a package of skittles. For the first time in two perhaps almost three years, I painted.

One of the things which I loved most about my mum was that she would always read to me as a child. We would spend hours together with her making stories come to life. Of course, after I learned to read well enough she did not do this for me anymore, but I never lost my love of being read to and I believe that these memories instilled a love of reading out loud inside of me. I read The Little Prince and Peter Pan and sometimes my textbooks out loud to myself constantly now. One day my dear friend and I went to the book store and I read to him until he fell asleep on my shoulder.

Last night my Beautiful Friend came into my room. "Kite," she said, "Can I read you The Ugly Duckling?"

Life is defined by being provided for in the smallest ways at the hardest times.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Moving on

I am back at school after a week and a half of chaos.

My mother passed away last sunday after five years of fighting disease, infection, and medications. Her actual cause of death was internal bleeding and kidney failure caused by the hundreds of medications she has been on over the last years (yeah--I don't even take tylenol anymore) but someting else would have killed her sooner or later. It's true. I am not an emotional person but I did cry. I cried several times over the last week. I think it has been good for me. I miss my mum. She was a Pittsburgh Steelers football fan and it makes me sad that she had to go only a week before they got to play in the superbowl. At the funeral I met her Ex-Boyfriend. She stole his monopoly board in highschool and we still have it. That monopoly board is so old and beat up and she always tells us about how she stole it from Ex-Boyfriend. When I finally got to meet him, all I wanted to do was tell her that I saw him and that he had a beard that covered more than half of his face and I thought about offering him his monopoly board back. It depressed me slightly. Because I couldn't tell her all of that. I couldn't tell her anything.

I was never super close with my mum but I did love her. I would save little things to tell her that I knew would make her laugh. She suffered a lot the last five years and I know that now she is with God and she is loving it. She's not suffering anymore. She's not struggling anymore. She is so much better off and completely renewed and basking in the glory of Christ.

But I still miss her.

It is still hard to think that she is not here.

I still want to tell her about the monopoly board.

I still want her to be able to see me get married and talk to me about important things.

I still wish that I had gotten the chance to not just be her daughter, but to be her friend as well.

I wish that she had gotten the chance to watch the Pittsburgh Steelers win the superbowl.

Life is defined by moving on.