First, let me note that the raven at Ravenden is alive and well. Leaving town today in the daytime, I was able to confirm that it still stands as it has all these years. I'd like to think that if you lived there, it would grow on you after a while. My old roommate was from Harvard, IL - "milk capital of the world" (or something like that) and they had this huge fiberglass cow in the town square named "Harmilda" who was the mascot for Harvard Milk Days. I thought it was tacky, she praised the thing.I'm not sure if the raven has a name or not yet here is what I did find out - the original raven was built by the town's volunteer fire department in 1991 and was constructed of fiberglass. In 1996, vandals figured out fiberglass burns and torched the raven. The statue was rebuilt and two weeks later, it was torched again. By the end of 1996, the one that is there now was constructed - of cement stucco, coated with flame-retardant paint. Thank you RoadsideAmerica.com for your insight on this!
My visit with family went well. We were able to get through some things, yet there is still plenty more to go. Looks like I will be heading back down when the weather gets better and after my races. Jeff is doing better from his bout with pneumonia. They are getting him strengthened up and then will be sending him to St. Louis for tests. He had some sickness several years back and his liver is about shot. He says once he is strong enough, they will be putting him on the transplant list. He has done well in getting his health turned around. He is down over 100 lbs since I saw him last and has really managed to change unhealthy eating habits. I'm really proud of him.
Dusty is well. He remains an anomaly with his autism and Type I diabetes. The two together have made for quite the medical puzzle through the years. He is still die-hard NASCAR and was excited as next week is the Daytona 500 and this weekend was all the promo and qualifying. He can tell you every detail of the sport, all the drivers, their cars, crew chiefs, and who has won what and when. I think that he has taken Carla's death better than anyone. I guess when they came home from the hospital, he looked at the dogs and said, "mom is gone. she won't be back. it's sad but that is just how it is. we will go on and we're done talking about it." He was excited to see me and just as excited to tell anyone he saw that I had made it. Have to say, Dusty is the only person I would ever allow to yell across a parking lot, "Hey! This is Chrissy Lynn!" and live to tell about it. Yes, to all people in Arkansas, my name is "Chrissy Lynn" - shoot me now.
Throughout my stay I kept a small part of my awareness on myself. At first I felt a little selfish doing that, my purpose of going was to be with family and help take care of some of the needs there, then I decided that it was ok and no one was being hurt by me keeping a little focus for myself. I think it paid off. As I said before, I did a lot of listening and observing. I also tried to be aware of my feelings. How was I feeling in different conversations (sad, happy, numb, etc) and when the feelings changed, what else changed. In the quiet moments or on a drive, what was I thinking about. What was my mind working on. What did it want to work on or through. There were a couple thoughts that my mind kept going back to in those quiet times. Guess that is a small sign to focus on those first.
It's not the easiest thing to explain what I have been feeling or thinking through this trip. It is like when I would listen to someone share something heartfelt in Spanish and then someone English speaking would ask, "what did they say?" I often could not tell them. I understood what had been said, yet it was hard to actually translate the feelings and emotions of it over to English. That is kind of how I feel about these past several days. My soul heard and pondered a lot yet I don't know if I could ever really put it into words. I think my exhaustion is not so much from driving as my brain multi-tasking in overdrive. Whether I am able to explain it or not, it has been good for me.
So, it's kind of like a second chance now (or third, fourth, maybe fifth). I got about 20 miles down the road and I got hit with this huge blast of anxiety. I was trying to figure out where that came from and I realized I had just started to really think about going back home. That's the scary place where all the demons are - at least a small corner of my mind drew up that conclusion. I just took a deep breath. So what. If it is, it is. I can't run from them forever.
For several months I have been healing, growing, fighting, learning, giving in, giving up, getting back up and going again. Then there are those few demons that I have spent just as much time avoiding and running from for dear life. Running is fine until you stop to catch your breath, then it all catches up with you. You can't walk away because you always have to come back, and there they are...waiting right where you left them.
My emotional world has gotten a lot of attention while my physical world has continued to just get by. I look around and my house is in disarray. Yes, I am a bit of a pack-rat, yet it usually organized. I have stacks of stuff that I look at and just shake my head. I know I need to get through it, yet most times it feels so overwhelming to even go near it. I have half-finished projects just sitting there like they are frozen in time. They wouldn't take much to finish, it is just doing it. Then there are the projects on the "things I would really like to do" list. Yah, that pretty much a wishful thinking list that I daydream about. Not that the projects are unattainable, it's just that I am lucky to keep dishes and clothes clean, how would I ever pull off something on the big list.
I even look at myself, generally disheveled and lucky to have matching socks on (well, at least most of the time...if I even remember socks). This is not me. Ok, so it seems to be me at the present time, yet this is not who I care to be forever. Contrary to how I generally appear, I do have a small sense of style. Granted, I can dress others far better than I can myself, yet I can clean up pretty well too. Don't get me wrong, I do have my own sense of style and it is far from runway-worthy, yet normally I do wear clothes that fit and don't look like they have sat in the laundry basket unfolded for a week or so. It is good that people accept me however I look. It really is a complement to hear, "that's just Blewy."
Tomorrow I get in the car and knock out the last part of coming back. Another 4 hours or so to think and ponder. What will I change, what will change me. I have a new chance to come back and grab a hold of all aspects of my life. In those hours driving home can I change the anxiety to excitement and fear into a challenge. A part of me feels like a clock is ticking and I am running out of time to step up and take it on. My mind keeps telling me that I have let things consume me for far too long, it's time to take back control.
At the end of the day, it is my choice. It's all about choice. If I have learned nothing else from class, it is simply that.....everything is a choice.
