Been Stripped

2011.

So far, I am pretty confidant that it has been the most trying year we've been through as our own little family.

I know it's been a long time since I've posted.  I took some therapy time.  I caved up in a hole with bouts of forcing myself to be social (with mass amounts of alcohol, sometimes all at once) and making sure the kids had their birthdays.  And that's about it.

I live in a small home in the middle of New Mexico.  We have five of us living in a three bedroom home.  One kitchen.  One living room.  No basement.  No attic.  And now, no car and no income.  Those of you that know me, know we have gone from a struggling single income to a drowning, no income without transportation situation and Bad Boy's dominant arm in a cast up to his sleeve.  Those of you that don't, now know.  We've been stripped.

Did we bring it on ourselves?  I'm positive that partly we did.  Some days I feel we MORE than partly brought it on ourselves.  Some days I feel we don't deserve any better and we're "being taught".  It's depressing.

Did we deserve it?  No.  I don't believe that we do.  Even though on the bad days I try to convince myself otherwise.

Is this a pleasant post?  No.  Unfortunately not.  We've been stripped.

So, now that we have been stripped, what do we do?  We focused on each other.  We were reminded at how blessed we are to have the people in our lives that we do.  We stumbled.  I won't lie.  There were times we tried to take each other down.  It's hard to stay positive.

But, then I look at this picture to remind myself of what REALLY matters in life.

This was my Grandma encouraging my Grandpa to come out of it.  They first met when she was nine years old and he was ten.  They were married over 60 years.  He passed a few hours later and peacefully.  The lived their married life here:

A small, three bedroom home in the Shawnee National Forest in Illinois.

Only, they didn't, and still don't, have a bathroom.  The small red building behind the chicken coup is the outhouse.

And to this day, when I picture Grandma, I see her here, at her kitchen sink.  Either boiling water from the cistern to be able to consume safely, or hand-washing dishes, and long ago, even bathing one of my sister's in that sink.

2011.

The year I was taught that love is the purpose of living.  Not money.  Not material things.  Not how skinny or fat we are.  Not if we eat organic or over-processed.

Love.  Love from a your mother.  From your children.  From your grandparents.  From your friends.  From you father.  From your partner.  From YOURSELF.  It's the only thing that matters.

And in a month, if we're still without an income, without a vehicle and giving up all our luxuries (internet, being one) to hopefully not run out of money, an evil necessity in life, it's okay.  I have Bad Boy, the Literary Musician, Diva, and Li'l Sausage.  I have Sassy Mama and her girls, Deebo and Tsunami.  I have family in Daddy-Q and Mamma-J.  I have my parents, my sisters, my friends, my in-laws, my brother-in-laws.

Fortunately, we have love surrounding us.  And because of that, we have have the strength to go out for that necessary money and keep trucking along.

We've been stripped.  But we're not giving up.