Wearing my "ugly"

Wearing my "ugly"

Pink eye was the devil. MarKay had it four times and Piper was on her second time. I had washed every item and wiped every surface.....somehow it would find its way back into my innocent girls' eyes. It was maddening for me.....and then, I woke up with it. It was a Wednesday and I didn't have time to take the day off. I remembered a year or so back that my brother had gotten drops for his pink eye and gave me his left over drops. Quickly I dug through the cabinets to find it and SCORE! I saved myself from taking the day off! As the day went on (and I put expired eye drops in my eye), I could tell something was very wrong. My eye was blood red and very painful. All the teacher co-workers at my meeting slowly moved further and further away from me, afraid to catch the dreaded eye infection. By 2:00 I my eye started swelling and I knew I was either doctor bound or urgent care bound. My fear started as I wasn't sure if I could drive. Thank goodness my mom was able to go with me.

As we went on the adventure of urgent care, we were hilarious....my mom and I are Mascots, we love to be funny in serious situations. I'm not sure when the last time was that I laughed so hard. From making fun of my eye to her high blood pressure, the stories from that night are just too funny. But the greatest thing I was masking was my fear.....by this time my eye was swelling almost shut and I starting feeling what they call "toxic."

Most people couldn't see the worst of my eye because by this time the only relief I had was covering it with a wet paper towel. But when I revealed it, it was shocking. After two hours of waiting it was finally my turn to be seen. The doctor was very concerned and diagnosed me with some serious condition. He told me that I needed antibiotics to overdose in my body. He ordered a shot, oral antibiotic and and eye drop antibiotic. I had to see my doctor the next day because if i wasn't better, hospitalization was in my future.

This is when the panic set in. I was unable to mask my fear with jokes, I felt like I was going to pass out. I started having a panic attack.....I knew it was serious, I just didn't want to hear it because then it made it true. Waiting for the 10 minutes it took for him to give me the shot felt like an eternity. I knew this shot was my key to healing and it was taking so long for them to get back.

Finally I was able to get the shot and then it was time to fill my prescription. By this time my sunglasses were a permanent fixture on my face to the general public. Finally I made it home and knew I would wake up significantly better.

The next morning my eye was matted shut, the swelling had not gone down at all. Panic set in again, I knew this wasn't right. I immediately started crying, my face disfigured, my eye was unavoidable to everyone I would come in contact with. My vision impaired I wasn't sure if I would ever regain that.....panic. Again I put the sunglasses on my head and set out for the doctor.

As I walked into the room the poor unsuspecting nurse asked the innocent question, "what brings you in today?". All I had to do was lift my sunglasses....the horror that was on her face I will never forget. She was very kind but I almost felt bad for her as I surprised her with the ugliness of my face......needless to say, the doctor came in very shortly after. As he asked me questions and looked at my eye he kept saying "ok, ok, ok," as if to not over react but I could hear his concern. He proceeded to tell me that I needed another antibiotic shot as well as some powerful antihistamine to rule out an allergy. Then he was emphatic that he needed to see me the next day and to not return to work. I was vulnerable enough to let him know that I was really scared.....he assured me I would be ok....

I proceeded to horrify the poor prescription lady at Target when she asked me the innocent question of why I needed antihistamine. I decided the sunglasses were a must in order to protect these poor unsuspecting people.

I could tell within 20 minutes that the antihistamine was taking effect....my eye was draining and the pain subsided. The next day when I came back to the doctor, he was so happy. He told me he could sleep better at night and he was worried about me. I instantly felt like he was my Dad and was so happy to be under his care.....

I spent 48 hours wearing "ugly" on my face. The eyes are unavoidable and are often said to be the windows to your soul......the horror I saw when revealing my "ugly" reminded me of telling others about losing my son. It never ceased to amaze me when I experienced the uncomfortable interaction from the other unsuspecting person. When I lifted my sunglasses of my soul to reveal the "ugly" I felt towards God or this world, or the authentic reaction I had toward life would shock those around me. I started feeling sorry for those around me and have fallen silent lately. Someone asked me how I got Pipers name the other day......that is connected to Jerin.....I didn't mention it. I mean after all, this person was pregnant and I didn't want to freak her out.... No one wants to be in an awkward interaction. One where someone feels pity and also shock at knowing something so deep about a person. They are unsuspecting, they will not expect the authenticity, the reality.

This whole experience got me wondering, "what if we if we all wore our "ugly" to where we could see it?" Would it be shocking? Horrifying? Maybe if we all were so vulnerable and willing, it would be normal. The truth is, it's serious.....we just don't want to talk about it so that it isn't real. We make jokes or become the "mascot" to avoid it. We put on our permanent shades to protect those around us from the hurtful or painful truth.... Our eyes are red, pussy, and clouded with the seriousness of who we really are.....the core. Maybe you're not in urgent care but what do you hide on a regular basis? What's the real soul-stirring story that is covered by the tinted lenses?.......What's your ugly?

On this blog I lift my sunglasses to you.....you may move away or wash your hands an extra time, but maybe, just maybe you can see through the windows to my soul.....my prayer is that you will join me in this journey. That even if your eyes are clouded, red and hard to see through, that you lift your lenses and show your soul. Maybe it starts to yourself in the mirror, but my hope is we can all wear our "ugly" so that it becomes the new normal instead of a horror.....

The Perfect Box

The perfect box

Looking back on the last five years has been a bit overwhelming. We've had our first daughter, lost a son, had another daughter, and had to short-sale our home. Our lives have slowly been stripping away the things that don't really matter. Our home is a possession, a place that houses souls. We were upside down as many of others are. We found ourselves working in order to keep a possession, I likened it to being a hamster running on a wheel. The best thing that ever happened was Jerry losing his job. We financially could no longer maintain the insanity of running endlessly with no end in sight. So, we packed up our pride and cleaned out/got rid of the furniture that wouldn't fit in our two-bedroom apartment.

As we were packing I would look at a pile of things I valued enough to move to our new space. I surveyed the items and went to the garage of endless boxes. Every detail was considered when picking the box, the size, shape, and sturdiness. When I found the gem, I deemed it a success if every item fit with no room to spare, no wasted space, even the lid wouldn't buckle at the top. Perfect.

As I slowly saw my house lose it's "home," I felt like I was putting pieces of me in those boxes. The pride, the secrets, the lies....taping it up with no room to spare. I box up what I feel is important enough to carry around from place to place....the things I can't let go of. I'm willing to lift the load sweat over the process and bleed from breaking my nail over taping it up. I struggle to carry it to the truck as I see it drive away.

Then there is the unpacking...

It's funny how when you get to the new space, it is so easy to only bring up what you really "need.". The game changes. The place is smaller, the needs are different. Then the garage becomes a storage for all the lost boxes. We don't get rid of the "baggage" because we convince ourselves we "need" it. We house it and keep it "just in case." so the garage becomes a grave of dead unneeded boxes. And when guests come to visit, we let them think that our place has no clutter, no wasted items. No one can the dreded garage where we keep things unnecessarily to keep them safe. All that pride, lies, secrets are "safe" taped up in boxes stacked up high to the ceiling.

What I've realized is the important things in life is the unpacking. It's going through those boxes and showing others the truth. Sorting through the perfectly packed crap that we store and keep because we still have room for it. Sharing in the pain and life lessons that have brought us to this place is the real secret. The secret to the invaluable gem of relationship. My huge backyard and completely renovated (with our own hands) house is no longer ours. We can never get back the hours we spent sanding the cabinets or working the extra hours to make ends meet. But my husband, you, and my friends can know me and meet me on a deeper level. A level that you understand too but never discuss. You see, we have the same garage, the same boxes and the same packing abilities. We have found the perfect box for all of our junk, all of our crap that doesn't really matter but we move it from place to place. The pain and beauty is unpacking those boxes, releasing life together sharing our box cuts and tears. We can't short-sale a relationship. There is nothing like deeply knowing and understanding the soul of another. This kind of love transcends death, it is packaged in the heart.