Mrs. Flinger: A work in progress

UPDATE TO Mrs. Flinger October 16, 2015

Because the Universe has a wicked sense of humor, after this delcaration, my blog threw up all over my last upgrade.

So I'm starting over using Craft. Turning 40 and kid entering Jr High next year, sometimes it's just time for a change. These archives will still exist in the way the last child goes off to college and their room is the same for 20 years, but it's just time to move forward.

I’ve been trying to tell you I love you Dec 21, 2010

#Life#Best Of

I recently posted a photo. The title was, “Such a thin, small window separates us. Literally and Figuratively.” I watched the homeless man wander on the sidewalk as I sipped a latte. I looked for him later to give him a few dollars but he had already left by the time I stepped out to find him.


It is in this spirit that several amazing people have entered our lives recently.

It’s been a rough year. It’s been a tough month. It’s been a really hard few weeks.

We’ve been discussing our life a lot lately. We both feel that the culmination of events of the past six years have brought us to this point. There’s a boiling point we’ve reached, a cliff, the end-of-a-sidewalk, if you will.

It’s a bit like it’s now or never. Change or fail.

The robbery was the last straw for us. At each turn we told each other things were looking up, we were going to be ok, everything was going to be fine. Every time we felt optimistic, life crashed on us. Hard.

The past week has been one of heart break. The finances, the insurance bills, the medical bills, changing locks and accounts and credit cards. But there’s more to being robbed than the actual act itself and the corresponding physical consequences. It brings on an entire line of questioning about humanity. Why do we try to be optimistic? What kind of person steals from others? From children? Before Christmas?

At this precipice we lingered. We teetered on hope, rocked on doubt. Our tiny community we love so much, the people we’ve gathered close both physically and emotionally, the schools we hand picked for our children: Each of these came in to question. Did we really settle in the best home possible? Would these be the type of teens our kids could interact with?

And then the unimaginable happens. You happen.

Sizzle offers us a Wii. “I have one to give away and it needs to go to you and your children.” She glows in an adorable knit hat the day we meet. She hugs the best type of “I’ve known you forever” hug. She smiles as waves away my thank yous.

Others come up and gift our holidays. Amanda,  gifts us Amazon. (Yes, ALL OF AMAZON. Chick’s got connections.)

Friends gather together, scheming, planning. Secretly they raise money without us even knowing.

And, on her very birthday party, intended to celebrate her life, my own best friend gifts to ME something amazing.

More than money, she gifts love, surprise, and joy.

And she videos the whole thing.** (new! Now Rated Oma Approved: Less Cussing)

This Christmas is one I will never forget. Not because of the robbery or the water heater or the stitches or the condo foreclosing. I will remember it because you loved us. From way out there, beyond the physical, you loved us.

Thank you for restoring humanity for me. For reminding me there is love and joy.

Especially at Christmas.

Mrs. Flinger