A little bit of faith, restored.

I’m so happy I could almost pee. Alone. My new laptop arrived today. I wasn’t expecting it until Thursday. Dell is very non-specific about when their products will actually arrive at your home. But they require a signature (as well they should). Most people work during the day. I guess I’m just lucky. I was arm flapping excited to see that DHL van in my driveway.

I was expecting UPS. The other third of my tax return went to getting the girls new car seats. Britax, no less. I got a good deal on them. It was actually Amelia who needed a new seat since hers was purchased 6 years ago for Will and has been in almost continuous use since then. As I was ordering Amelia’s seat, Ella slid up next to me and asked if that was for her. I said “No, that’s for Amelia.” “That’s pretty” she says (it’s yellow with butterflies) “I think I need a new seat too.” She doesn’t. Didn’t. But I got her one anyway. Amelia got the Marathon and Ella got the Regent. And if I never have to buy another car seat it will be too soon.

I felt bad about getting the safest car seat possible for one child and the other child is stuck in a $50 booster from Target. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But what if something did happen? What if Amelia’s seat saved her but something bad happened to Ella? How would I live with that? More importantly, how would I live with the screeching that would come with one child getting something comfy and cute while the other one is in something scratchy and Navy blue?

So, it was a banner day all around. I hope nobody in the neighborhood was watching the delivery trucks coming and going all day. They must think that I have more money than sense. Which isn’t true. Exactly. I’m still holding on to this Amish principle of using up what you have or doing without. Make it last. Use it until it dies. But does that include car seats and computers?

I got the laptop because my desk top is in my room. Which is where Amelia sleeps. Or tries to sleep. It’s not even 11 and she’s been in bed for 3 hours. I’ve been in there 4 times to nurse her back to sleep. So this is an experiment. Will she sleep better if I’m not clacking around until all hours? Or is she lulled by the computer noises this time of night? Who knows. There is a learning curve that comes with this new technology. There are lots of things that I don’t know how to do. Like print. Like sync my ipod. Like get my digital photos off my old computer. Photoshop.

I wish Stephen were here. On a multitude of levels. He loved getting new gadgets like this. We almost never did. But he would be the one to figure it out and teach me. He would have put the seats in the van by now. He would have synced my ipod and his. Of course, I wouldn’t get a hand on anything until he had gone through everything. And then I’d get POed and wash the dishes loudly. So it goes…

Other than having a clean house (which BTW is overrated when you have internet in your lap) my other obsession is Elizabeth Edwards. I am still reading “Saving Graces” which is pretty much her biography. I love reading biographies and memoirs anyway because I’m nosy like that. I like to see how people become the people they are. I am usually a very fast reader. Given the chance, it’s nothing to read a book in a day. I have been working through this book for several weeks.

I bought it in Rochester on one of our last days there before I knew it was one of our last days. I thought we were staying and I went to B&N and bought 2 books. And didn’t get the chance to read either of them until this winter. It was a good thing too. I would have started it and never gone back. I couldn’t have sat at his bedside and read about what it is like to bury someone you know so well. I would not have poured lemon juice on the wound that was the weeks to follow. But now? I’m ready. This is my support group. She is my person. And she doesn’t even know it.

I hope she’s okay. I hope she knows how many people are pulling for her. I wonder if she knows that her faith has strenghened mine just when I really thought I had been abandoned. She too lost a son. She, herself, is fighting the cancer. She is making the most of her life and enhancing the lives of her children and of other people’s children.

She writes:
It reminds me of a story my brother told of a woman who, having lost a son, was seeking some way to reconcile this loss with what she thought she knew of life. She went on a retreat where she was asked to walk into the woods and find a tree, her tree, to look for answers. She balked, it sounded useless, but she walked anyway and picked out a tall old tree for no apparent reason. She sat there for some time, staring at it without seeing it. Finally, bored, she approached it and studied it. There was an odd place in the bark, and as she fingered it, she realized that a stake had–some time before–been driven into the tree. The tree, obviously, could do nothing about the stake, so it had grown around it, acknowledging the injury but living nontheless.

Faith. Restored. She doesn’t even know me. She probably never will. But I was meant to know her and know her story. We were brought together. Me in my lazyboy. She at her computer.

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