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| My family on a hike near Mt. Vernon, Iowa. Circa 2015 |
Hi Winter, I see you. Heck, how can I not. I've done my best, but it's time to admit something really, really scary. You're bigger than me, you're meaner than me, though on a day like today when the added gob-smacking of sleep deprivation (Auntie Menny- as in Menapause missed the memo that she could skip her visit this week) and well, time to face facts.
I just cannot deal.
You see I used to be able to tough it out. The photo depicts me doing just that. On an impossibly cold day here I am behind 4 out of 5 of my family members, plus Chuckles our dog. Missing that day was our oldest son. It was the kind of cold that cuts to the bone, most days here in January, February do just that.
I agreed to go for this "hike" with our family during Christmas break, my mom guilt hovering steady in the "make sure there are good memories" pressuring myself. Our oldest and only daughter, Juliette, was a student at Benedictine College, in Atchison, Kansas which is about 5 hours away. She loves to hike, as does my husband, and younger sons Joseph and Martin who were high school and middle school age weren't actively protesting outings with their folks at this stage for some miraculous reason.
Palisades State Park is along a river, so the "hiking" is more a less whatever upward slanting rivers do to have water flow. I'm not a hydraulics expert, so that is the gist of my explanation.
All I know is that it never once occurred to me as a Californian moving to the Midwest how much I took for granted the endowment nature bestowed to my native Golden state, and how strikingly lacking in it the poor Hawkeye State is.
Back to my admitted defeat over winter.
This January 2024 in Cedar Rapids was the worst on record, though record keepers might dispute that. I literally didn't leave my home for the better part of 3 weeks, including missing Mass on the Second Sunday of Ordinary Time. I had drawn up a new set of boundaries for myself, and when wind chills are negative 30, AND ice is still on the roads, I stay put.
That was when I had to admit defeat. Winter had won, and Jenny had lost and there was nothing to be done about it. Yes I had the usual teary eyed rants on full display for my patient but weary husband about "can we just decide already to move to a warmer climate." My lingering sleep problems that plague me added to this sense of weakness, turning eventually into moods I was having trouble keeping in check. I am no stranger to depression, having had my first full blown diagnosis in 1997 after the birth of our second child which fell on the dawn of my parents' divorce. I know what not coping looks like.
Last October, I signed up for a low-cost membership to an online Catholic Wellness community. Their weekly optional bible study meetings (Lectio Divina) were staffed with kind, non-judgemental and well studied in their craft Catholics. Once a week I found myself staring into the faces on Zoom of fellow wellness-seekers, of different ages, backgrounds and challenges they were all humbly laying at the foot of the Cross. Over and over again, the message of the community came out in kind exchanges.
"Jenny, stop relying on yourself. Christ, the Divine Physician, wills your good and wants you to be fully alive in mind, body, spirit and soul."
This small beginning last fall carried me during some tough stretches of 2023's end: the death of our beloved Chuckles, ongoing estrangement from my family of origin that I feel more acutely during the holiday season, the inner pang that is my still adjusting heart to empty-nesting, having been a SAHM since 1996. My heart had so many holes in it, and combined with the push of middle age, and the "loyalty" of menapause and it's myriad of lingering surprises, I was in over my head, and in need of true healing.
And then came the one-two punch of January, and I found myself spiraling once again. But it wasn't permanent, and with the resources I had amassed from my better understanding of Christ at the center of wellness, I reached for more help. And as always, The Father answered.
This blog will now be repurposed to focus on that ongoing effort, progress, and graces accumulated through our beloved God.
I'm happy to say I feel better already. It's been over 10 years of migraines, sleep issues, mood swings, and milestones galore. But I know better than to try to tackle more mountains in one trek. So I start with that first sip every morning, and resume asking Him to meet my needs...
"Hello Father, it's me. Jenny, you daughter.Thank you for (gratitude list), and would you guide me today on (worry list)? Ok, I'm listening...."
"Daughter, Your faith has saved you," Gospel of St. Mark, Chapter 5
If you're new to this blog, welcome.
If you're curious about wellness from a Catholic perspective, check out:
https://cmfcuro.com/how-it-works/
Until next time, be assured of my prayers for you. Best, Jenny B💖
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