Breaking up is hard to do
“Some nations and some people melt in the heat of crisis and come apart like fat in the pan. Others meet the challenge and harden. I think you’re going to harden.” –Alas Babylon
I failed the test. I came apart. On the MOHS Scale of Hardness I was like Talc (which is a “1” for non-geologists like myself). Really I have done quite well on the whole “build a house” project over the last two years. There have been ups and downs and a moderate number of hiccups and delays, but for the most part we have enjoyed or at least contentedly (is that a word?) tolerated the obstacles and opportunities. My spirits took a dip over the last week when I realized how necessary it is to be able to LIFT to be able to move things from one house to the next, but I smiled and moved smaller things.
When in the midst of the move we had house guests, we enjoyed breakfast on paper products and continued with all the kids usual activities and classes. I taught a chemistry class on chemical and physical changes and Easter baskets even arrived at the Dalton home during moving week (albeit not until Easter evening, but it takes the Easter bunny a little time to sort out moves, right?). We enjoyed a trip to Mike’s family reunion in the Grand Canyon during moving week as well and I managed to get all the kids packed and in the car WITH matching shoes.
I was saddened when I realized that the diamonds in my wedding ring had fallen out of their setting and disappeared during our hike, but I comforted myself in the knowledge that my marriage of 14 + years was still intact and that jewelry could be replaced. Truly, I reacted quite calmly when my sister in law found lice in my nieces hair as we drove away from the Grand Canyon to our home and all twenty grandkids had to be decontaminated before she could throw a gathering at my new house that evening. We were all happy and cheerful as we tried to find bedding and sheets for 25 extra house guests on our first night sleeping in our new home. Mike was fabulous in trying to deal with our new pool which for some reason flooded at 1am and 3am that first night. He sat with a pump in the rain trying to keep water out of the house. I thought I was hard. The first time I realized that I was coming undone was when I found Luke, for the second time, fully dressed for church and in the pool. Luke doesn’t swim. Our fence isn’t complete. Apparently, one of the little cousins was opening one of the handful of doors to the backyard. That was the straw. I was done. Send me back to the old house and give me a leash.
Then as the packing and boxing and dumping and sorting and putting has continued this week, I have continued to melt in the heat of the crisis. My responses to my husband and children our the “tell-tell” sign. Darn. The test comes and instead of becoming a diamond, I become talc. Who likes talcum powder? I should have known when I lost my diamonds that I was in trouble.
Moving is hard—it exposes all your weaknesses and all the areas that you thought were organized. It’s like being put under a magnifying glass.
Tonight, I finished a 2 year book discussion class in which we read, wrote and discussed classic literature. As a culminating activity before we “broke up” and moved on, we had “oral exams” where you stand up in front of the group and answer questions and make connections between the books you have read. It was like being put under a magnifying glass. Who am I? Who does God want me to be? Am I becoming that person? Do I need to “break up” with some of my habits and weaknesses and MOVE ON?
Why does it take so much pressure to become a diamond?