Journal Entry for Everyday Life in MIddletown
May 15, 2019
The day started early for me because of insomnia. About 2:00am, I listened to several podcasts: “What Should I Read Next,” “Popcast,” and snippets from “The Guardian.” I read a chapter from an actual book (as opposed to my phone or Kindle) “Faithful Place” by Tana French. I’m on book 32 of my 75-book goal for this year. So far, my favorites are by Marilynne Robinson, Edith Wharton and Henry James. I understand that Robinson is a favorite of President Obama, too. (I’m a list maker and a goal setter, so I keep track of these things that no one else seems to care about!)
I believe my proclivity for regular journaling supports my theory that I fall into the Type 1 personality of the Enneagram assessment. I keep a gratitude journal, a favorite quotes/lyrics/poetry journal and a running journal. Type 1 is a bit of a structured, rigid personality, the wet blanket bearer in the staff meeting, the sheriff at the party, so I don’t love this designation, but it is what it is. Now, I think I have a pretty good sense of humor, but there’s no doubt that I love structure, routine, self-discipline and self-improvement. I just try not to police others, and I try to push myself out of my comfort zone of sameness as often as I’ll tolerate. I can be a hard task master on myself.
Back to the task at hand–
Around 2:00am, I replied to a post by a Facebook friend, a Muncie expat who punctuated a less than glowing remark about the city with the often heard “I’ll visit my friends but never move back there,” by defending Muncie:
“Don’t overlook all the good things still happening here: community involvement, new construction, campus growth (building and enrollment) food/clothing banks, biking lanes/beautification, etc. Much of the local bad stuff is due to addiction, a plague in affluent communities as well as not as affluent. I had to leave the site “Lost Muncie” because of the repetitive lament about Muncie not being the same as it was 25-50 years ago. Few places are! I’ve visited and lived other places; there’s no place like home.”
Speaking of Muncie 25-50 years ago, I’d like to share that I was in the class of 1981 at Southside High School when the sixth installment of the Middletown Studies documentary episode called “Seventeen” was filmed by PBS but never aired, due to its controversial nature. I was not in the episode and never saw it until a few years ago but witnessed the crew recording my classmates. The episode was appalling (horrible racism and terrible disrespect toward teachers, etc.) and most of the classmates I knew resented that the videographers chose kids with notorious reputations to feature without a glance at the average student. Had they chosen the homecoming queen or valedictorian to film exclusively, we would have felt the same: they should have gone for “average” for this study, keeping with the spirit of the Middletown exploration.
Muncie is home. I’ve chosen to stay and help those who strive to improve it, not become someone who abandons my hometown and whines publicly about its deterioration. I reared three children here who are successful adults. One lives in Muncie, one in Indianapolis, one in Europe. We had and still have a good life in Muncie. As Mellencamp says, sometimes we go see “who’s in the big town,” (concerts, etc.) but this is “probably where they’ll bury me.” In the bleakest winters, I’ve wondered why my Westward-bound ancestors stopped here. Why didn’t they go for the gold–not nuggets but sunshine?! Then I realize, someone put down roots in the farm-friendly Midwest, and it was probably family ties that held my direct ancestors here. Now I understand that better.
Returning to the present, I began my day in earnest at 7:30 am with a cup of coffee, a Tom Petty song,”Rocking Around with You” and opening the blinds to energizing sunshine. I always tell my cousins and friends on the West coast that they may enjoy sunny weather more regularly than we do (I often feel as though we have 6 months of winter) but I’ll bet we Hoosiers appreciate the first warm days and summers more than they do. One of my favorite things to do when the first really warm days come is to watch people emerge from buildings and see them instinctively turn their faces toward the sun, like flowers stretching toward their energy source.
Around 8:00am, I read Galatians 6 from The Message, a contemporary paraphrase of the Bible. Beginning the day in prayer and Bible reading centers me, re-directs and re-frames my thinking about the problems and challenges I will face in the coming day. My takeaway today is:
- Forgive grievances freely today, as I will need grace for myself before the sun sets tonight, so I shouldn’t be stingy with compassion.
- Remember that as the philosopher said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Be sensitive to my motivations and actions today, the way my words affect those around me. I believe in each moment there is more going on than meets the eye, and I want to be attuned to the significance of the moment. I want to see interruptions as opportunities instead of annoyances.
- Remember that I reap what I sow, in my heart as well as in my actions.
- Resist the inclination to be introverted so much of the time: Be relational. Take care of other people. They are my brothers and sisters.
I ran 4 miles at 9:00am. I have never been nor will I ever be fast or stylish. I plod along. But I love running so much. I have a very princessy-looking sign in my room that says, “One Shoe Can Change Your Life,” and the style strongly suggests “Cinderella.” But directly under the sign hangs a row of medals, and I remember how much running has enhanced my life, physically and emotionally. So yes, a shoe, or in my case, a pair of awesome running shoes, changed my life! I’m so very grateful for the gift of running.
I had lunch with my best friend at 11:00 at Panera, a weekly date for us. We met in the summer between our 8th and 9th grade years and have been best friends since, without one falling-out. She is the sister I never had, and our lives’ courses have run remarkably parallel. We were cheerleaders together, got married around the same time, had children around the same time and then grandchildren around the same time. She has moved but drives to Muncie weekly to see me. I am so grateful for this lifelong friendship.
I cut my own bangs today. Only women will understand the precariousness of this act.
I called my 93 year old mother on the way to Panera. She is segueing from short term memory loss to dementia. I am the last born and only female in my family of origin, so I am her “person,” the one she depends on for practical and emotional needs. I either see her or call her every day, sometimes calling several times a day depending on her health. She and my dad were married 71 years when he died six years ago. They have been great parents. So now I am learning a new role as her caregiver. I’m checking into support groups for caregivers of dementia patients, but so far I cannot find any through the most likely agencies. I just want to be the best daughter I can be to her in her final months or years, have no regrets. But our relationship is complex–very loving (deeply loving) but also at odds because of our history and different personalities. This situation is another that drives me deep into my faith for strength and wisdom and comfort.
So in any given week, just not today, I am either watching a grandchild or watching over my mother, taking her to doctors, picking up her medicine, etc. In my free time, I’m either running, lifting, reading, baking or cleaning. I am “retired” from office work. I earned a BS from Ball State for teaching high school English but never taught full time. I am considering beginning online English tutoring for Chinese children when I return from a trip to Europe this summer. I can do that job in the very early mornings and use some skills and gifts that have been dormant for a while. At 56 years old, I might not appear to be relevant or capable in the normal job sector, nor would I be willing to sacrifice time with my grands or mother for money. Luckily, my husband and I have made financial decisions that allow me to stay at home at this point. I am so happy about that.
Tonight at 7:00 at Puerto Vallarta, I will meet with a group of women that I’ve been joining every Wednesday night for so many years we’ve lost count. We started when our kids were little, and now our kids have kids. We have seen each other through lots of challenging situations, from parenting issues to marital discord to divorce, moving, job losses, grand babies arriving and even one member’s death. Two of us (there are seven) have moved, so we just Facetime them into our meetings when we can. We do enjoy our margaritas and weekend lake trips together each summer. We have vowed to be there for each other throughout life, and so far, we’ve remained faithful. They are also like sisters to me. I’m so grateful for the way they have helped me navigate my life.
When I return home, I will greet my husband who has been away on business in Denver and watch the AXS TV interview of REO Speedwagon with Dan Rather.
I have a sneaking suspicion that my life would be very boring to anyone looking in, but I love being home, doing all of the aforementioned activities while puttering around to Fleetwood Mac. (I’m a Boomer who has joined the ranks of those collecting vinyl LPs again.) I’m a daughter, wife, mom, grandmother and friend. I’m an erstwhile writer of mediocre newspaper columns and blog posts when blogging was a new thing. I hold political views from both the left and the right (pro-life, anti-death penalty, not anti-gun, exactly, but for more restrictions, etc.) I like creating art with chalk and watching classic movies on TCM (I have a little crush on Joseph Cotten, who has been dead for many years!) I’m interested in genealogy and classic literature; “East of Eden” is my favorite novel. I play dress up with my granddaughters and play cars with my grandson. I’m with the man I married at 23 years old. I’m a Christ-follower who tries not to be bound by legalistic, man-made ideas and still holds to the idea that there are sacred, holy moments in this world as well as in the next, but the sleeper in a person has to waken to those moments. My goal is to keep in mind the poignant lyrics of Jackson Browne’s “The Pretender” as a cautionary tale of how not to live life. So I’m definitely chasing after a deeper life than just existing day to day, although no one looking at my life could probably tell that. I am at once highly content and yet always straining toward personal growth. Anyway, this journal entry is my snapshot of a very ordinary but very good day in America’s Hometown, on Wednesday, May 15, 2019.
Thank you for allowing me to participate.