Finished with my Ranting - The Good Kind of Unraveling -

Betrayed, Deceived, and Letting Go -

This past 2 months has been an internal hell for me. For the past 5 years I was led to believe I would be the hospital chaplain when the chaplain retired. The chaplain would suggest ways to improve my standing with the caregivers in the hospital, with administrators, how to improve my chaplaincy skills, and projects to take on that would make me more visible and viable. And I bit - including covering for him every chance I got, to gain experience - including a 3+ month stint as full-time and Palliative Care chaplain during the most tumultuous time at the hospital this fall and winter.

And I aced it! And I was so damn gullible. You see - I made his dreams come true. I did his work. I didn't necessarily do this to climb the ladder, but to please him and to keep him in a job - covering his butt when he was too complacent to do what really needed to be done with chaplaincy at the hospital - the only hospital in the Intermountain system to have a full-time chaplain.

My list of things I co-dependently did is long, and I won't go into the details, but suffice it to say that I rocked, and caregivers at the hospital saw that and reached out to me rather than to him when they needed assistance.

The chaplain fed me the line, and I bit, that when he retired in May of 2020 I would be able to slip into his role without a hiccup. And then 10 weeks ago he gave his notice, 12 months ahead of schedule (and it wasn't a surprise).

So 3 days before heading to Scotland I submitted a beautiful resume, cover-letter, and references, because, yes, I would have to apply, "but it's just a formality."

I even ended up having a Skype interview while in Inverness! And I waited and waited and waited - the job was offered to 3 people, all turning it down, while I still received emails telling me I was still in the running. The few folks at the hospital who knew the chaplain had left were asking me why I didn't have the job - and I didn't have an answer.

The unknown has been nearly unbearable at times. This "possibility" has been a part of my life - during the entire Scotland trip, coming home, and keeping my job going in Palliative Care, while also, now, covering for emergencies at the hospital - because no chaplain was hired, until - Thursday afternoon at 5pm. I received a form e-mail thanking me for my application, my patience, admiring the hard work that I do, saying I was one of the best, but they had chosen someone else.

Shit, damn, hell, and the big F word. Betrayed, deceived? Yes. And I allowed myself to be the damn fool who all these 5 years allowed myself to believe a dreamer who only knew how to dream, not how to implement. I've been here before, and I thought I could see an element of truth in his words, but just like my past, it was all BS, and I was the one designated as the actor - action'er. I am disappointed in myself - and yet - I have learned so very much about chaplaincy and big business. 'Git 'er dun Ronda - that's me!

So - a white, Mormon, male, with little hospital experience (not the 5 years required on the app) is hired. And I will be working with him, and he will most likely be a part of our chaplain chapter, and I will need to let go of my angst to be a colleague -  but I'll be damned if I'm going to train him and show him the ropes. His "boss," another of the people I feel double-crossed by, can manage him.

I am grateful, beyond words, that I have a job, a profession, that I love. And I am the only one who can do what I do - and this has been emphasized over and over again these past 8 weeks. Palliative Care is where I belong - where I have a team, where I have autonomy, and where I can grow.

Today, while perusing my Pinterest posts, which I seldom do, I had received a message from a friend, quite some time ago, but just seeing it now, which is exactly when I needed these words of advice.

Gotta let the shit go -

Eternal Vigilance - If at First You Don't Succeed -

I discovered John O'Donohue a few weeks ago. What a man and a story. He was determined to live his truth, and his legacy lives on in his writings - religious and environmental, his contribution to Gaelic thought, and his poetry.

As I was listening to a podcast from 2007 (he died in 2008 at 52), he said, "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty." I just happened to be listening to this on July 2, and of course, thinking of Independence Day.

And yet -

I have been thinking about how tough life is - of course it's beautiful, but even that beauty takes work, and vigilance.

Since cancer - I've worked hard every single day to become healthy and stay healthy. I let my guard down and there is a price to pay.

And my career right now - I'm working hard to stay patient, to stay the course, to be innovative while also being a member of a grand team.

I see folks who surrender to poor health, give in to their anger, resign to never being the same. And they lose their freedom - the liberty they would have to be alive! And yes - being eternally vigilant appears to take a hyper-awareness mindset, yet that is the price that is often needed to sustain the freedom, the liberty and is hard won and hard fought for.

If I let my guard down (doesn't mean I don't have fun), then I lose the freedom I have worked so hard to acquire. I can't do this.

And so I am vigilant with myself, I am stealthily aware of my faults, my weakness, and the areas where I need to spend time refining, every single day.

Me vigilantly caring for my liberty. 

https://spheresofcuteness.files.wordpress.com/2014/09/owl-pair-wide.jpg

Childhood Affects Adulthood - A Need to Belong -

On the website BoredPanda a few days ago, there was a thread about "Childhood Stories that Best Explain the type of Person they are Now." I found it quite funny and quite telling. I appreciated those who had really thought through their childhoods and were able to critically apply these events to their adulthood.

It caused me to think about mine. And - my childhood event that continues to affect me today is that of belonging.

As the oldest child and grandchild, I stood apart; I was different; I was the other. I was 7 years younger than my aunt and 5 years older than my closest cousin, who lived a few hundred miles away. At family gatherings I did not belong.

In fourth grade there was a group of girls who were the popular ones. I remember wanting to be a part of their group. The had an application process - write a letter telling why you wanted to be with them, what you could do for them, and submit it. They would get back to the applicant. I was rejected.

In fifth grade Mrs. Gooch, the teacher who paved my path, upon examining my handwriting, which looked just like the handwriting of a girl a year older than me (and someone I wanted to be like) told me, "You are trying to be like someone you aren't. Just be you."

Between probably my fourth grade years and my sixth grade years I looked up to my babysitters. I wanted my aunt to love me and embrace me, but since she didn't, I looked to those her age for that acceptance. I even wrote letters to two of these girls asking them if I could adopt them as my big sister. I have a copy of one letter and reading it one day, as an adult with grandchildren, made me very sad for this lonely girl.

So - I professed that no one would ever have to feel like I felt. And I reached out to others, but to some extent, kept part of myself alone.

An interesting predicament these past two months, and the prompt of this website, made me reexamine my need to belong.

For the first time as an adult, I am part of a team with peers. I am not their leader, not their teacher, not their mentor, not their boss, but a member of a group. We work together; we share; we laugh; we compliment; we collaborate, and for the first time in my life (not talking marriage), I belong.

Yet in many ways I'm still searching for a place to belong - in so many areas of my life, that finally belonging to a bundle of amazing people is exhilarating and awkward - I don't know if I know how to belong!

A possible opportunity has come along where my strengths can be used to create an amazing program, and as much as I know I can excel at managing, developing, creating, supervising, teaching, I will be doing this a step-away from others; I will not have a team, I will manage the team.

I really love the team I'm apart of, and I really love the me who can create and manage a team, and I am just about ready to say "no," to the possibility of not-belonging. And yet - if my weaknesses have been honed to become my strengths, then perhaps I need to stand-alone once again, and make sure everyone I work with belongs.

http://www.greenwichworkshop.com/details/default.asp?p=2444&a=16&t=4&page=2&detailtype=artist

Missing My Dad -

My father died 3 years ago today. Gosh I miss him -

After becoming his neighbor, he would shuffle over to our home around 7:30 am, knock on the back door, or more often than not, open the door, step inside and holler, "Are you dressed?" as he continued into the kitchen. More often than not, I was getting ready for the day, and not dressed. Eventually I learned to keep the door locked, but he'd pound until Scott or I answered. As he aged he would continue with this journey in the morning, but now we could hear the shuffle of the tennis balls and plastic wheels on his walker - good warning. I miss this.

When I had cancer he'd come over during the day to visit. He said to me, "I don't know what I can do for you, but I can be available for you." Just his presence was a gift, and the fact that he didn't shy away from me while I was in pain was very endearing and typical Dad. He was always available - when I was a child and as an adult. I miss this.

I've had a couple of stressful months (career-wise). I liked to talk to him when he had his "boss" hat on. He listened objectively and gave good advice. I didn't always follow his suggestions, but I listened and learned. There have been many times when I have wanted his ear and his thoughts. I miss this.

After Dad retired from his restaurant jobs, he took up Dutch Oven cooking and woodworking. Both of which he excelled at - winning prizes for his cooking and winning hearts and buyers with his woodworking. He had a "can-do" attitude, and he definitely had this same attitude for his kids. He pushed us to excel, and he was the prime example of taking an idea and making it into something tangible. I miss this.

And with this, Dad spent hours a day in his workshop with his lathe or saws going, and his generator running. Living next door, I heard the hum from his generator all day, and sometimes into the night. If he remembered, he'd turn it off before ending his day, but there were plenty of times that I'd hear this sound into the night. And in the mornings, he'd turn this on first thing, and this became a sign, to me, that he was up and he had projects on his mind. I'd get a call or two during the day, or a knock on the door, "I need you to look at this." The lack of sound is more apparent these days than that rumble or ring ever was. I miss this.

My dad was an "experimenter." Whether this was a recipe, a wood-turning idea, or a gardening experiment, he enjoyed trying something new. He often created a new recipe from the goods growing in his garden, and he'd bring it over for me to taste. Dang, his peach/basil salsa, his watermelon salsa, his sweet and sour stir fry that was so sweet - I miss this.

Dad loved color, and this time of year this was apparent in the beautiful roses and flower beds. As time marched on and his health failed, he still could be seen pruning his roses. He wanted bright, big, balanced, pruned and sculpted. I miss this.

These days I have silent conversations with him - asking questions, giving thanks, and repeating back to myself his words of advice, concern, and love. And I hear him -

And Here We Have Idaho - Salmon -

Scott and I traveled to Salmon, Idaho with Jenna and Cliff and family, met my uncle, aunts, and mother there, along with my cousin and her daughter from NY.

My feelings:

What started out as a vacation ended up being a family reunion of sorts. 

Being together was nice - in short spurts, and it's fine to separate into small groups or do your own thing. Congregating occasionally is what's important. Four generations!  And now this weekend we go to Cedar City for the Weaver family reunion - my husband's people. I don't know them well; his siblings are closer to my mother's age than mine; I will attend because he needs to be there, and I will listen, learn about family, and be present.   

I'm reminded of the saying, "You can't know where you're going if you don't know where you've come from." Family is so important - nuclear family, extended family, and family of choice - those we gather as we grow and go through life. 

With my family this past week I've been reminded we all have characteristics that bother each other, and over the years (I'm the oldest grandchild, only 7 years younger than my aunt [Kim's mother]) we've done that. We're volatile, frank, moody, bossy, assertive, passive, vague, loving, tight-lipped. However, kind words and time together and the resolve to stay family continues as we are determined to be family. 

As much as we distance ourselves - miles and time, we can't escape our similar mannerisms, physical traits - eye color, hair color, build, ways of walking. And even temperaments! I see myself in my mother and aunts. Jenna and Kimberly (Kim's the youngest grandchild, only 1 year older than the oldest great [Tyler]) both have characteristics that remind me of my grandmother. And my uncle is the spitting image of my grandfather. 

To build family ties we have to be willing to ask for forgiveness, forgive, compromise, watch over each other, learn about each other, and gather when the opportunity arises.  

Amen. 

Scotland -

17 days (2 airplane travel), 15 nights, multiple cities, multiple Airbnb's and motels, and Scotland is one for the books!
I booked our tickets to Manchester, England, 9 months ago, with no idea we'd end up in Scotland. Yet we did, and our adventure was worth the several months of planning, rearranging, booking (Rabbies Tours rock - 3 in all), rebooking, stewing, choosing, and then - viola - a perfect, yes, perfect time.

Our train journey took us to Liverpool - home to the Beatles (do the taxi tour) and the Liverpool docks, where ancestors from both of our families left for the United States. We stepped into Wales for an afternoon, buildings built in the 1400s amazed us.
Then on to Glasgow - Glencoe, Loch Lomand, castles, and massive granite buildings.
Next to Oban by the sea - the isles of Mull and Iona, an awesome wool fabric shop, sheep sheep and more sheep, great people, good weather.
Then to Inverness - again, granite buildings, a river through the middle of the city, lovely Airbnb hosts, great food, and a tour to the Isle of Skye, as well as Loch Ness, and great Scottish bagpipe and fiddle music.
Off too Aberdeen 2 days later - a gorgeous train journey, and then a quick trip to King's College, and rain, rain, and more rain. Making the most of this though, we binged on British TV and Doc Martin.
Lastly we headed to Edinburgh - castles, DaVinci Code Cathedral, the Royal Mile, Botanical Gardens, and massive stone masonry.
We ended our journey with a quick drop into Leeds, a stop at our favorite British diner - Nando's, for the best meal of our trip, and then back to Manchester and home.

Will I go back, probably not. Am I glad we went - absolutely. What an adventure, a chance of a lifetime. Beautiful people, great cool weather (thank goodness for Eddie Bauer down jackets and scarves), the landscape is spectacular, the transportation amazing. So grateful we took our backpacks rather than roller luggage, and grateful we had little expectations for great food!

I rocked the itinerary, with us only missing 2 things, and this was just because transportation was difficult. Not bad, not bad at all!