Go to the mattresses

Sometimes when it seems life has decided to kick me to the curb and then kick me again and again and again, I hear Tom Hank's voice quoting The Godfather to Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail, "The answer to your question is 'Go to the mattresses.' You're at war. It's not personal; it's business. It's not personal; it's business...Fight. Fight to the death." And I still see Meg Ryan, playing one of my favorite female leads as Kathleen Kelly, pumping her fists reciting, "Fight! Fight, fight, fight."

I used to feel so connected to Kathleen Kelly, and sometimes I still do. Isn't that the craziest? I know that it is, but I refuse to deny it. I saw You've Got Mail during my sophomore year in high school, and I've loved Kathleen Kelly and Joe Fox ever since. Fox, F-O-X. I could quote this movie for days.

Although this year has been sweet to me in ways I cannot completely explain, it has also done its fair share of kicking and knocking me to the ground. Sometimes it lets me rest on the ground for awhile, clutching an ache or a pain, but other times it quickly resumes its quest to bruise me deeply. I have felt quite bruised since we moved to Texas. It seems that if I'm not dealing with one thing, something else arises and leaves me scratching my head and coddling my aches. I have felt an immense amount of anger and frustration growing since our move. Some of it can be explained away, but some of it cannot be. If you know me, you know it's not good for me to be angry. In fact, I can't think of an example when anger has ever been a good look on anyone.

When I am angry, my whole world feels dark, almost black. The light people often see in me is almost nonexistent. The yellow streaks in my blue eyes no longer feel bright. They feel faded and dull, just like my spirit. It feels like another person takes over my body, and that person almost always starts to attack anything and everything in her path. She fights. She fight, fight, fights, if you will, until the death. But not usually the death of others, rather the death of herself.

I have fought a few hard things this summer. I've gone to the mattresses. The battles have been long and ugly, leaving me alone and quite frankly, right back to the beginning of where things started. But last night as I discussed things unrelated to my inner battles with Tim, I felt a small part of the darkness start to fade just a little. My mind, body, and spirit and are weary. I'm tired of fighting. I'm not giving up or giving in; I'm just going to be still for awhile and see if life can work itself out without me adding anything to the mix.

So Kathleen Kelly, let's go listen to Joni Mitchell and see what else life has to offer. Surely it has to be better than the battles we just lost.