November 21st: Holland was not liking the 4 day silence; he was missing the open-handed talking. His door opened and he started trying to engage me. I finally looked up and said, "Are you going to apologize for your over-the-top behavior?" He said, "No." I said, "Okay then - we aren't talking. An apology is all I'm interested in hearing."
A little while later, he tried to engage me in convo again. Again I stayed mute. He said, "How long are you going to stay mad at me? You're treating me like a child." I said, "You are behaving like an overgrown brat." He asked, "What do you want from me?" I replied, "An apology." He struggled getting the words out, but he finally managed, "I'm sorry." I asked, "What are you sorry for, Lynn?" He genuinely looked confused, and finally said, "I don't know - you want an apology, so I'm sorry."
Then, I noticed his agitated anxious behavior … something Bob would do when dealing with his TBI sensory overload. In that moment, I understood that he really does not know.
Déjà vu - different person, same blank canvas (my mother & my first husband, both suffered brain injury blackouts - my mother would be violent; I have never had to fear either husband).
Now I know how to ride out the choppy waves of this current emotional tempest: every person is different, but the rules remain pretty much the same.
And I am determined that I will not be Holland's {candy scott}: I can back off and give him space when needed - stress kills. I do not want to be Holland's stress trigger by insisting on getting the response I want (as candy scott's pettiness was, which spiked the stress trigger that led to Bob's physical death). Becoming a widow again is not on my present, or future, agenda.
Needing a verbal apology isn't that important.
And I said as much to my husband: "I noticed your agitated state … and I know that high stress makes you get stuck in a looping black hole with your brain injury. It's unfair to make you apologize for something you have no recollection of doing … or saying. I can tell that you really are confused about my insistence on an apology when you don't know why I am upset. I understand that you are trying to make things right - and don't know exactly what went south, and why it needs righted; so, I'm willing to start this Day fresh; and, my mute button is off, as of now. And you can spend as much time in the bunk room as you need to, to regain balance again. When I noticed your high agitation, I know what I'm dealing with now - I know the rules; I've been playing by them my entire life. Now that I know what's going on, I'll try not to get mad when it happens, again."
I also know that there will have to be many concessions on my part to keep the stressors at bay: there have been many major adjustments in Holland's Life since we joined our lives together, in Reno, 22 months ago. He's been juggling a lot of changes - and he puts a lot of pressure on himself to be the husband to me he thinks he needs to be (redmill men machismo). There will have to be many changes happening in my life too, to meet both of our needs, realistically and healthily balancing.
But nothing said, excuses the redmill behavioral pattern he is also stuck in - that chain needs to be broken.
I was drinking my coffee, and working on a knitted preemie hat, when a storm reminded me of an upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. I also remembered that Holland said he would order me a short string of white twinkle lights … so, I asked him if he would do that. He said he would - but that there is a Dollar Store here that might have what I need; and I wouldn't have to wait a week to get them. He offered to drive me to the store, since he knew where it was located.
The storm cloud over the PNW concerned me … so, I called David - and was thankful to hear that he and his family members are okay.
Washington State Reels From Bomb Cyclone As Atmospheric River Drenches California:
(https://www.nbcnews.com/weather/storms/washington-state-bomb-cyclone-california-rcna181164)
A string of Christmas Lights got me out of the house, this morning.
Glittery 'Illusion' browline color; sparkly Blue eyelid color; sparkly green, lower liner. Soft Brown Brow Gel; weird brush makes smooth application, tricky.
Blue Mist Mascara; Neutre Enflamme Crème Blush; & Pink Sand Crème Lipstick
I did find what I needed (and a bit more ;-)) at the Dollar Store.
On our way home, Holland asked me if I needed to be home right away: I said, "No - you know me; I can be gone all day long." He suggested a drive … we started out on the backstreet, where Celia's Rainbow Gardens is located: and ended up in Bouse.
We've been curious about Celia's Rainbow Gardens, so we checked it out; I walked the entire memorial while Holland patiently waited (listening to his music I could vaguely hear, as I walked) - and the {Gardens} was nothing like what was expected.
It seems to have expanded from it's original purpose, and morph out to meet the needs of Quartzsite locals and snowbird winter nesters.
And I am happy to note that my Video Feature on the phone is working with the laptop again, so I can verbally share ;-)
On the drive to Bouse, Holland explained some things to me that helped me better understand his current frame of mind: the explanations did a lot to defuse future emotional explosions. Now I know how to better weather the moody darkness when it arrives - the knowing will help both of us tend to our personal and joint US needs in a productive way, going forward.
Celia's Rainbow Gardens; Quartzsite-AZ.
Story Behind Celia's Rainbow Garden: (http://www.celiasrainbowgardens.com/Story/)
Entrance Butterfly mosaic; raw obsidian rocks, raw quartz, & what looks like a chunk of petrified wood.Entrance Marker w-Celia's memorial picture, & a rock sketching, laid at the base of the entrance memorial marker - very nicely done.
Memorial Wall with pressed handprints.
This {Gardens} Memorial is wide in scope and depth of desert landscape.
I began to realize that the {Gardens} meant Cremation Cemetery …
Strange in this place; but perhaps used for solemn ceremonies.
A disc golf course runs THROUGH the Gardens …
One of several disc golf baskets placed strategically throughout the Gardens perimeter's.
More memorial oddities …
Small foot bridge spanning a shallow dry wash.
No explanation; just placed here.
A memorial section for RVing women - who lived here, or made the journey here alive, or otherwise.
An interesting Barrel Cactus species …
Fish Hook Barrel Cactus:
(https://www.desertmuseum.org/kids/oz/long-fact-sheets/Fishook%20Barrel%20Cactus.php)
An interesting rock mosaic missile birdhouse.
'Santa Rita' prickly pear cactus; fleshy pads turn purple or magenta when it's cold or dry; return to their blue-green color.
On our drive to Bouse, we discussed our challenging relationship … and what needs to be done to strengthen it.
Back on track; Hallelujah. The wins may be small - but they sure feel good ;-)
I am a Daughter of the a Most High God - Holland is King of our Union … and he has told me I "am Queen of this house": right now, our Life resembles a contemplative chess game. In chess, the king is the most important piece, and the queen is the most powerful piece:
The king is the most important piece because the game ends if the king is captured; there are many ways a flesh-&-blood king can be held captive … and right now, we are dealing with several hamstringing instances; and they all have to do with his family and friends intrusions and interferences on our life as we try to move forward to establish strong and healthy marital roots. My king's Past is holding him emotionally and spiritually, captive: following e.v.e.r.y. phone call or text, he is {in check}.
The queen is the most powerful piece because the queen protects the king; she can move in any direction, combining enabling & empowering moves: she can make as many safe-guarding decisions as necessary … as long as she is not blocked by opposing circumstances.
We are going to play this game of Life to win: redmill family approval for how Holland and I conduct our lives, is not required.
In Bouse, I spotted the Post Office and asked if he'd drive over there; so I could get a couple postal boxes to put my Angel Baby items in, so I can mail them off next week.
The 2 boxes paid for and placed in Betsy's back seat area, we saw across the highway, a fresh fruit and vegetable set-up; so we drove there - and were told that the fresh veggies/fruit truck is in Bouse, every Thursday & Friday: this afternoon, we grabbed some green beans, Brussel sprouts, zucchini, a green pepper, mushrooms, and a pint of raw honey (we tried the honey when we got home; it tastes like sunshine :-)) - we'll be going back, while we are in Quartzsite.
Sunkissed, desert flower, organic Honey; Bouse-AZ
Back home, I stashed my holiday cache; and prepared boxes for mailing.
Holland doesn't have anything to do with Christmas, but he recognizes this personal need for me; and allows me small concessions with holiday fare - I want to have a few selected cheerful decorations (not a lot, there isn't much storage room in Independence); I want to enjoy some holiday foods; I want to listen to some Christmas golden oldies; I want December, my Birthday Month, to be alive with happy. No one pays attention to my special Day, except me because it falls between Christmas & New Year's Eve - it gets lost in the holiday shuffle (Bob got me a BD cake to mark my 30th BD - inside joke, as no one our generation was supposed to live to see their 30th BD; my kids and grandkids don't even know what Day my BD is - unless I mention it on FB; and I'm not even sure Holland heard me when I mentioned the Day), so throughout the years, I recognize the entire month with special vibes ;-)
He also recognizes my need to engage in the Angel Baby charity work.
I got a little more than lights, earlier; these will go up after Thanksgiving ;-)
18 ct. AB Shrouds will be on their way 'across the pond', shortly.
This box needs a little more 'fleshing out' before it is sent on it's way to Maryland.
And Holland spent the rest of the night with me, outside the bunk room - the game of relational whack a mole was put on hold ;-)
Holland really is a good man - and truly a good man for me, when the black mood is played out. If he wasn't, neither of us would still engage in the patchwork process needed to weave the tapestry of US.
With hope and prayer, the black mood will dissipate and eventually disappear, altogether.
He can't stand the self-imposed distance; dealing with hard familial realities … is hard, & the yo-yo effect is always in play.
Help in any - and every way, to establish & strengthen deep roots.
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