Bless-ed

Frost gathered in each corner of the window's 6 square frames. She was in the basement, baby in a carrier on her back, gathering water in a bucket from the main. He had taken out all the piping. It was black, corroded, and unfit for drinking water. They didn't have the money to replace it quite yet. He was working 10 hours a day, 6 days a week in the factory 30 minutes away for 200 dollars a week. They were saving what they could. Until then, it was just going to be this way. She quietly hummed as she carried the bucket upstairs and heated it on the stove. Once it was warm enough she took the water, and dumped it in the bath tub. 5 more trips and she'd have enough for baths. The baby was fairly content just to be against it's mother. Her toddler played quietly in his room.

The babies bathed in the clean water. Warm water. He and She took turns being last. When baths were done it took another bucket to boil water for their dinner. Oatmeal. The babies got milk. Yet, there was laughter. Lots of laughter. After dinner, she'd sing those babies to sleep "The water is wide. I cannot get or' And neither have I wings to fly. Build me a boat that can carry four, and all shall row my loves and I"

Eventually, she'd finally get the call she had hoped for and start working. Then, it would only be a matter of weeks and they'd have water again. For a time after that, running water was a marvel to them, a quirk most of their family wouldn't understand.

Winter 2003-2004


Ya know, Casey and I have been through hell and back. In 10 years, we've had two kids, finished college, moved 8 times in 4 states, and that's the good stuff. When our kids were 3 and 10 months they were living on raman noodles, plain oatmeal and milk. We've had to do that two more times since then, and even lived in a motel. There have been multiple times when, if chance hadn't provided hand-me-downs the boys little toes would've been curled up and blistered in the ends of their shoes, and they would've been wearing sweatshirts and sweaters as coats for winter. We've had times of prosperity too. Yet, I wouldn't trade "those" times for anything. Seriously, I told Casey just before we were married that I wanted my kids to grow up poor so they'd learn to appreciate the little things. I am glad they have gotten that opportunity. Everything seemed to workout in the end. Recently, when I asked the boys what one of our family traditions were they responded, "love. We always have lots of love in this house." However, Casey, the over achiever that he is, couldn't take another year of these ups and downs. He joined the Army.



At first I was TERRIFIED. Then I realized, "damn, this is a perfect fit for him". Mr. overachiever just got used up and spit up in the corporate world. Now his talents will be utilized, and his work ethic rewarded. Our hardships were, to him, a neon necklace with an arrow pointing at his head that said, "douche bag". It's not going to be easy, but that's sort of been a theme in this family. I think we'll be just fine.

People have asked me, "how are the boys going to handle it?" Sure they'll miss him, cry for him, and probably act out a bit. However, we've been apart from him before, and they've weathered far more arduous circumstances (by a child's yard stick) with tenacious optimism:



She stands outside the school. Crisp air cuts up her coat sleeve. No one talks to her, but they all stare. She shuffles her weight so one knee can bend itself in a gesture of cosmetic confidence. Secretly, she wishes she had mirror to check and see if a little snot snuck down onto her numb upper lip. She runs her mitten under her nose just to be safe. FINALLY! She sees a pair of smiling blue glasses with little blue hat, an unruly strand of blonde hair sneaks out the bottom. "I dot dis foh you, Mommy", a crumpled paper by way of a hug. Now, to collect the brown hatted observer for the walk home. She does so and gladly walks away from the crowd.

"So are you guys excited to get a house?"
"Wioh we get to have Cwistmas pwesents?"
"You get a house, and if we can move in before Christmas you will get to have a tree too."
"So, mom, is Santa going to visit or not?"
"I'm sure he'll bring you something"
"I's wanted one of dose big noeff guns"
"I think Santa was planning on bringing small things for your new room"
"We get to have our own rooms?! Well Okay!!"
"So we won't have to be all in one room anymore?! Can I have a dragon room?"

So the three of them chattered themselves back to the motel room they shared with Him. The paneling smelled of someone's cigarette smoke, a reminder that this was not theirs (thankfully). She made them a dinner of microwaved raman noodles and hot dogs, then homework, bath and bed, all four of them together.

Friday December 23rd at 1pm the 4 of them unlocked their new home. A container in which to treasure their laughter. Each of their exclamations was trailed by a little puff of smoke. She hurriedly, harassed the gas company and Stanley Steamer so that her babies would be warm and safe before bed. Otherwise, it would be a long cold weekend with painful reminders of the previous owners cats Once all was quite she set up a small 2 ft tree, wrapped the paint brushes, a few small toys. She paused to absorb the enormity of this small tree that dared to occupy such a large empty room all by itself. Fitting. Then She crawled up next to her family on the floor. This might end up being her favorite Christmas yet.

That Christmas she felt like an alchemist.