October 29, 1994
Dressed in my usual Wicked Witch of the West costume with my
boyfriend Joe dressed as Zorro, we opened our doors (well, actually his door;
it was his house) and welcomed guests to our Halloween party. Dressing up in costume was a must. It was Halloween after all, the most
fabulous holiday ever. (Ok, not including Thanksgiving, where you get to eat,
eat and eat and not have to buy anyone a present.) The house was full, the food was endless and the drinks were
flowing when out of the blue, Joe called me over, walked me up a few stairs and
gathered everyone else around us.
I thought for sure a Great. Big. Huge. Chocolate. Cake. with 29 (yes, it
was actually my 29th birthday, not a celebration of..) candles was
somewhere in my near future and that everyone, at any minute, was going to
breakout with the Happy Birthday song in three part harmony. Rather, what happened next took my
breath away. Little did I know
then, but something he asked me (and it is not what you think) has cross my
mind many times since as I try to figure out this world around me. Yes, that was the night he proposed to
me. It was wonderful and
beautiful. We married in January
and welcomed our first child, Brennen, into the world in June.
Fast forward to October 21, 2012
18 years later…
So, what was that question that has popped into my head so
many times since it was first asked??
It went something like this … “Lisa, (while pointing to everyone
gathered and watching) are all your friends here?” I looked out at all the guests at our party and my voice
said “yes” but my head said “no.”
Thank goodness this was one time that I didn’t say something out loud followed
by “Did I just say that out loud??”
And it isn’t what you think.
My head said “no” not because Joe neglected to call and personally invite
all my favorite peeps, it was “no” because at that time in my life I had no
peeps. My best-est friend in the
whole-wide-world was not only 2000 miles away, but we hadn’t spoken in years,
many years. She pissed me off for
some reason or another and, for lack of better words, I “un-friended” her
before the word was even a word. The other “friends” I had in my life consisted of co-workers
and a few acquaintances I had met along the way. At that time in my life my walls were thick and my walls
were high. There were very few (okay,
there was no one) that made it over the top to get close enough to my
heart. I don’t know when it
started or how it happened, but I was a full-fledge masonry; building walls so
strong, so solid, so high, that no one was able to climb over or break through.
Rewind - October 2009
Joe’s battle with cancer came to an end on October 7,
2009. The six months prior to that
(from diagnosis to his final breath) were days filled with anxiety and fear and
became a time in my life when “the walls came tumbling down.” I had barely enough strength to get
through my days let alone have the strength to keep filling in the cracks and
holes of my walls that were tumbling down around me. In stepped friends I didn’t even know I had. All the people I had kept at arms
length were upon me like a warm safe hug and like that blanket you reach for in
the middle of the night when you leave the window open and the coolness starts
to become too much. They took over my life at a time when I couldn’t. They got my children from point A to
point B. They cooked and delivered
breakfast, lunch and dinner. They
helped plan funeral and celebration of life arrangements. At work, they took over my job and did
what needed to be done when I couldn’t do it. Because of them, I was able to continue to go to Logan’s
baseball games and Brennen’s football games with a smile on my face. The friends I didn’t know I had,
because of the walls I had built around me, stepped in and took away all of the
everyday things that I couldn’t do so that I could focus on holding on to what
was left of my family, tight. To
this day, there are no words to express my gratitude to those that were there
for me despite the fact that I had always kept them at a distance.
Fast forward – today
I still battle every day with the wall-building. I sometimes think in my prior life I
played a major role in the building of the Great Wall of China or the Egyptian
Pyramids. I am a master wall
builder. What I have discovered however,
is that the most awesome feelings of acceptance and unconditional love can be
felt when those walls – created to protect our hearts – come down. Yes, the feelings are more raw and all
of the negative things that come with relationships – rejection and
misunderstandings, cut to the core.
But, on the other side … the love and acceptance you feel, from friends
and loved ones, with nothing but your well-being in mind, are incredible and
certainly trump and out-weigh the negatives.
I really don’t know why so many of us go through life hiding
our true selves or cover up and pretend everything is okay, when in fact it is
not. Or why, when we need them
most, we shut friends and family out by painting a smile on our face and say “Great,
everything is juuuust great!” when in fact, it is not. If I had to guess, I would say that
pride, shame, insecurity, not wanting to be a burden, not wanting anyone to
spend time worrying, are probably all on the list, among other things.
I also think that when our lives are going great and days
are filled with lollipops, glitter and unicorns, we are good at communicating
that to everyone but fall short on inviting others to celebrate that with
us. So, when you reach the tootsie
roll center, and the glitter is now on the floor and you have to sweep it up
and the unicorns have disappeared, it somehow feels wrong to say “Hey, I didn’t
need you then, but gosh, I sure need you now.”
In the past few weeks, I have been in the position of SAYING
“Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I wish
you would have told me. What can I
do to help?” and have also been in the position of HEARING “Oh my gosh, I had
no idea. I wish you would have
told me. What can I do to help?”
Point being, we are all in this together and it is always
going to be a give and take. We need each other, in good times and in bad
times. To quote Pierre Teilhard de
Chardin, a French philosopher and Jesuit priest, “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human
experience.” And the “human
experience” well, it’s not easy. We
all know that. And the “spiritual
experience,” well, that is just plain confusing!
For me, it all comes down to this … in the darkest, most
saddest times of my life, what gets me through is knowing, feeling and
believing that I am a “beloved child of God.” I don’t have to earn it or deserve it, it just is. And, when I focus on this it helps me
kick down the bricks forming the walls that keep everyone else out. God puts people in your life for a
reason. Let them in.