Yes, this too

This is going to sound stupid, but I’m going to tell you anyway. I tried to make a bargain with God.

I know, right?

It was last month, right before our trip to Alaska--the crown jewel in my quest to visit all 50 states. You know, the trip I planned to take back in 2020 that got postponed twice due to covid? Well, I was working on all the trip logistics—downloading passport information to fly through Canada, filling out health questionnaires, scheduling medically observed covid tests…and I was nervous and stressed. What if someone tested positive for covid and we couldn’t go?

“Dear God,” I prayed. “Please let this trip go smoothly.” That felt a little selfish. God has more important matters than my family vacation. So, I added, “I promise not to drink alcohol during the month of August.”

I don’t know why I said that. It’s like when your kid is climbing a tree and you need him to come down so you panic and say something like, “If you don’t come down right now, you are grounded for a month.” It’s not true and you are never going to follow through with the threat but it’s the first thing that flies out of your mouth.

When we were in Alaska (yes, we made it!), we were on a tour in Denali and there was a woman behind me who was exasperated with her squirmy toddler. I overheard her say, “Audrey, if you can’t be good, I’m going to leave you outside by yourself.” Maybe other people who overheard that were totally judging her parenting, but I felt sympathy for the poor mom. Come on, people. We know she’s not going to leave the baby out for the grizzly bears. She’s tired and exasperated. Her in-laws probably arranged this tour which is not at all appropriate for a three-year-old and she desperately wishes she had packed some crayons in the backpack.

Anyway, we had an amazing time in Alaska (much better than Audrey, if I had to guess) and whether or not it had anything to do with this bargain I made with God, I came home ready to hold up my end of the deal.

Thwack.

That’s the sound of a golf ball.

A friend once shared this funny image: She imagines God at the edge of heaven on a big puffy cloud holding a big bucket of golf balls. God sits, watching for someone who thinks they’ve got it all under control and then pegs them with a golf ball. I forgot to ask if God’s golf balls actually hit her, or if she just has to dance around the pelting rainstorm of golf balls to remind her that life has lots of complications. I imagine sometimes it’s both. Sometimes you dodge them, but occasionally one knocks you down.

Here was my plan: Return from Alaska and spend last week of summer preparing for my new job. Start checking off trainings, digging into curriculum, prepping healthy snacks in cute little matching Bento boxes…I would start my new job relaxed and ready.

Thwack!

First came Katherine’s wisdom teeth surgery on Friday. Katherine was especially nervous because her two bottom teeth were impacted on a nerve. There was a small chance that she could have residual numbness on her lower jaw. “What if I’m numb for the rest of my life,” she worried.

Thwack!

On Monday, I said a goodbye to my father when his ashes were interred at the Veteran’s Memorial Cemetery.

Thwack!

When the tickle in Paul’s throat morphed into a full-blown cough, he tested for covid. Positive. Paul begins isolating in the basement and I’m now playing nurse to two patients.

Thwack!

My friend Debbie packed up her car and her cats and moved to Richmond. You know, the Debbie I’ve known since our kids were in kindergarten? The Debbie who I’ve laughed and cried with every week for the past 20 years?

Just in case you’ve lost track, this all happened the same week. Surgery, a funeral, covid, my best friend moving, starting a new job. An old movie bit from the 1980’s parody Airplane kept running through my head when Steve McCroskey says, “Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit drinking.”

Thankfully, everything went smoothly with Katherine’s surgery. She was sore, swollen, and tired of eating apple sauce, but she survived. When the initial numbness wore off and she was in pain, we laughed about her pre-surgery worries. “I’m glad you are in pain,” I said. “That’s better than being numb for the rest of your life!”

This got me thinking. If I hadn’t struck this bargain with God, I certainly would have had a few glasses of wine in August to numb some rough days. I didn’t. Now, I don’t believe my trip went smoothly because I quit drinking any more than I believe God sits on a fluffy cloud. But facing challenges without the crutch of alcohol to “take the edge off”, I grew in my capacity of meeting the tough parts of my life with acceptance.

I’m not saying this is easy. God’s golf balls left some tender bruises. Sitting at my father’s funeral, my chest felt swollen with ache and emptiness. As the last notes of the trumpet’s “Taps” faded into the hot afternoon, the servicemen folded the flag and presented it to me with a final salute.  Instead of saying, “This too shall pass,” I tried to appreciate the moment and say, “Yes, this too.”

It’s September now. I celebrated the new month at happy hour with my colleagues from my new school. After working long hours in our classrooms for the past few weeks, it felt good to be enjoying a glass of wine, camaraderie, and laughter together with friends. It also felt good knowing that my month without alcohol helped me feel more deeply and live more fully. Like Katherine, I think that’s better than being numb for the rest of my life.