Churchless Sunday

One Saturday night, I was WIDE AWAKE as midnight crept closer and closer. I’d gotten restless around a quarter to midnight and got off the Internet. I wanted to get MOVING! So, since I couldn’t drive anywhere because the battery in my car was dead, I decided to find something to do in the house.

And because there were dirty dishes in the sink and a floor that needed some vacuuming, naturally I opted to clean the place. I am a nocturnal housekeeper. I can’t help it. I often joke I’ll be bouncing off the walls by 2 a.m. Part of the reason I’ve consumed alcohol is because I needed something to calm me down at night, and alcohol is usually what did it, but I ended up going overboard with that. Fortunately, I’ve finally managed to keep control over how much I drink. Of course, I do some housecleaning jobs in the daytime. I make beds, clear out the dish drainer, put dirty clothes into the basket, make meals, etc. But, I swear, sometimes it’s like somebody needs to shoot me with a tranq gun, or something. After the sun sets, that’s when I get the “cleaning bug” and start dusting, vacuuming, mopping, etc. I remember one time I was chatting with my youngest sister online. I got up when the chat died down to mop my kitchen real quick. I returned to the computer, out of breath, then cheerily typed, “I just mopped my kitchen floor.”

My sister typed back, “At 10:22 at night?” Haha. Yup.

I don’t know why I get like this. Of course, I’ve managed to try to focus my housekeeping energies when it’s DAY outside. Or even right when I get up in the morning. But, alas, that has not been a successful attempt. Maybe ONE of these days I’ll train myself to do the housework during the daytime and not when everybody is supposed to be sleeping.

Well, after I finished cleaning the whole house, except for the bathroom mirror, which I eventually realized I’d forgotten about, I was STILL not tired. It was sometime around 1 a.m. so I decided to curl up with a book. I couldn’t start thinking about missing my daughter. The weekends are hard enough for me when she’s spending them with her dad and I’ve found that as long as I keep myself busy/distracted on the weekends, and not think about her being “gone,” then it’s easier for me to get through them. So I relaxed on the couch and started reading a book I’d recently checked out from the library. (I have my own “library” of books, many of which I haven’t yet read, and somehow I’m going to the library to check out other books! Go figure.)

After a while, I decided to move to my bed to read. Maybe I’d start getting sleepy there, since the couch wasn’t doing it for me. As I walked to my bed, I saw that the time was 1:55 a.m. I groaned; what if I don’t wake up early enough for church? I don’t have one of those special alarm clocks for the deaf and insomnia has sort of put a damper on my attempts to set my internal clock to a specific number of hours for me to sleep. So I read in my bed for 40 minutes (I checked the time before turning out the lights) then crawled under the covers. As I lied in bed, trying to get warm since I was shivering, I remembered reading my friend, Katherine’s, MySpace blog and how she talked about leaving for work a little after getting up at 4 a.m. “It is very quiet that early in the morning. Night folk are just getting into bed, and most day folk haven't quite woken up.” I wondered if she was sleeping now. Or did she have another odd-hour shift? I also thought about some people I know on the East Coast. And…Southeast Coast? Wherever you call it with Florida. It was after 5:30 over there. I remembered reading this girl’s essay online, about how she and her friends ended up in the woods to meet with some people at that time and I remembered thinking as I read that, “Good grief! Why are they up so early??” (Besides the OBVIOUS. Haha. I meant the people they were supposed to meet.) I wondered if any of the people I knew in that time zone were awake. Was my friend in Florida awake, too? What was a friend in Pennsylvania up to? Was she asleep? Awake? At work? What was a friend of mine in New York doing at 5:35 a.m.? Should I try getting online and seeing if any of them were there? No, I had to TRY to sleep. I had to WALK to church so I needed to try to get the rest I would need to have the energy for that.

I didn’t fall asleep right away, though. Actually, I didn’t sleep at all. I was tossing and turning, trying my hardest to get comfortable, get warm. I tried an old trick of mine, since my mind was running at full speed ahead with a million and one thoughts. Since I would fall asleep listening to music when I was a teen, before I lost my hearing, I adopted the habit of listening to music in my head, to try to calm my mind enough so I could sleep. Now, normally, this works. Normally, just playing songs I knew by heart in my head would calm me and I’d fall asleep. But, in this case, all it did was relax me. I didn’t fall asleep but I did feel myself completely relax as the songs played in my mind.

After a while, I got up to use the bathroom and let my dog out so he could go, too. I looked at the clock: It was 5:30 a.m. Oy. After I let my dog back in, I got online for about 10 or 15 minutes. There were a few people on my Buddy List online but they had their Away messages on so there was no chatting to be had. I just checked my email then checked a couple of other sites before getting bored with it then logging off. I went back to bed, not hopeful I would sleep, but I had to try, anyway. I didn’t want to be a zombie during the day. It was maybe another half hour before I finally drifted off to sleep.

It was after 10 when I woke up again. I was worried I’d be late for church (services start at 10:30) but I had to just get ready and try to get there on time. I let the dog out again and started cooking me some breakfast (a fried egg, toast with butter and jelly, a granola bar and glass of milk) and I got online for a bit while the egg cooked. I briefly chatted with that friend in Florida then logged off to eat. Afterwards, I got in the shower. I thought of taking a bath instead since my back hurt but I didn’t have time for that. So I took the shower, but because of my back, I couldn’t bend over to wash my feet. I ended up assuming the “stork position,” standing on one leg as I held the other to wash my feet. Ugh. I hate that. Stupid back!

When I was finally out the door to head on up to church, it was 11:28. I was about an hour late! Darn. Nice going. (I had tried to call a friend to see if she could give me a lift but I never got through to her and I suppose now it’s a good thing I didn’t, since I woke up so late.) IO was worried my back would hurt too much for the walk to the church, but I took some Ibuprofen before I left and it seemed to keep the pain away.

As I walked, I saw this church which I later read was a Baptist church. They had this sign at the side of the entrance that said “HELLSTOP” in big, black letters with fire all around the word. I was alarmed to see an ambulance parked in front of the church. Oh my gosh! Had something gone wrong? Did something get hurt? I hoped nothing serious had happened but I was further disturbed when I noticed the police tape at the entrance, torn from one side. Was I going to read about some mishap at this church in the paper tomorrow? I continued walking, uneasily noticing the black tarp attached to a clothesline along the rest of the church’s front lawn. I tried to peek through the sides to see if there were people there but I couldn’t see through any part of it at all. This big silver tube appeared under one part of the tarp and it suddenly reminded me of E.T., when the Feds had swarmed Mary’s house and had those tubes everywhere.

Next I came upon this house with a tree stump in the front yard. It didn’t look right and when I looked closer, I noticed this BIG green frog on top of it. I jumped before I realized it was fake. Haha. Actually, it looked like it was glass. Wow, I thought it was real, even though I knew frogs couldn’t get THAT big!

I crossed the street and at the corner met with this woman walking her big black dog. Or, should I say, the dog was walking her. The dog almost knocked me over as he pushed his nose against me and licked my left hand. I smiled down at him and petted him, telling the woman the dog was friendly and beautiful. She said “thank you” before continuing on her way.

The next dog I saw, though, wasn’t so friendly.

I came to this house with a gate around its small front yard. The first thing I noticed was a dog. He looked so much like a gray wolf!! My first thought was that it was a gray wolf, but then I thought, ‘No. This couldn’t be a real wolf. That’s silly. They’re wild animals. No one would keep a real wolf as a pet.’ (Yet, I still wondered if anyone did.) Maybe it was a wolf hybrid. A family friend used to have wolf hybrids for pets and this dog looked like one of them. The dog gloomily walked around the small front yard and I felt sad for him and said hi to him (don’t know if the dog was male or female but I’m not going to say “it”). He started barking at me. I was in awe. When he barked, I swear he looked like he was howling, with the way he held his head back. It looked like a deep, long bark. I was worried the dog was barking really loud as it started running to the fence and the owner would angrily charge out of the house, telling me to get lost, so I hurried away.

Next I saw this religious “school,” I guess it was. It had a giant wooden cross at the top and I couldn’t read the whole name of it on the sign because the first part of the name was, in fact, in a font too hard for me to read at my distance (and, YES! I was wearing my glasses!). The font was big but it was in fat, colored letters all bunched together. I did manage to read the words that followed beneath it: “Child Development Center.” I figured maybe it was a school? I couldn’t tell. I didn’t think it was a very professional-looking place to put a child into, though. The front of it was in disrepair, the landscaping showed neglect, and the front window was covered with a white sheet. Maybe it was a new business and they were still in the process of getting it fixed up? That was a possibility. I looked down as I continued walking and passing it, only to see that I was walking past a ... discarded condom??? OMG! It was on the sidewalk, right in front of that place. I quickened my pace as I continued walking, hoping nobody noticed that I saw it.

Services were over by the time I got to church. I was so sad. I really wanted to be at church, and now I’d missed it. (It had ended early but that didn’t make me feel any better.) I sunk onto a bench in the foyer, sadly watching people walk out of the foyer, pass me by and hug/meet with others. I tried to see if I could spot my friend, Nicole, but I didn’t see her, just one of her friends who softly smiled at me as she passed by. I guess I looked really sad as I sat there because this woman smiled as she came over to me, hugged me and said her name was Val as she sat down. She said something else but I couldn’t lipread it. “I’m deaf,” I said, slowly shaking my head and indicating I didn’t understand her. She spoke more slowly now, asking, “What’s wrong?” (Haha, looking back on that now, I wonder how it might’ve gone down if she asked “what’s wrong?” then I answer “I’m deaf” and then she’d be, like, “Well, that’s what you get for missing church, you heathen!!”) I sadly motioned to the doors across from us and said, “I missed the services.” She didn’t seem troubled by this. She just kindly smiled as she shook her head. She looked at me again and said as she waved her hand in that direction, “I rarely go to church.” (At least, I think that’s what she said! I didn’t ask her to repeat to clarify.) The way she acted and her body language indicated to me that I shouldn’t be so upset about missing the services today. Well, I was but now I was starting to feel a little bit better. She asked me what my name was and I held out my hand as I answered, “Dawn.” She squeezed my hand as she said something along with my name. “I’m Val. Nice to meet you,” she said. I smiled and responded, “Nice to meet you, too.” We silently sat there for a moment, watching the people, then she turned to look at me and said something in a manner that indicated to me she was going to go now. Then I lipread her saying, “But I will remember your name next time. Dawn.”

I smiled and said, “I’ll remember your name next time, too.”

She smiled, squeezing my right arm as she stood then walked off. I started watching the children running around in the foyer. I watched this one mother meeting with a group of people and a man in that group tried to pat the shoulder of her young daughter but the child shyly hid behind her mother. He reached around to tickle her and she laughed as she moved away and tried to hide under her mother’s coat. Her mother suddenly appeared exhausted as the child tugged at her coat but she continued talking with the group, but now it seemed like she was frustrated as she spoke to them. Of course, the little girl reminded me of my own daughter, and I felt that familiar pang tugging at me. If I had the car working and driving it, I would’ve picked her up to bring her to church with me. (Her dad is not religious and doesn’t go to church.) I started to wonder if the other children in the children’s group were starting to miss Jennifer. She always enjoyed coming to church and seeing the other children. I made a mental note to try to find some way to get transportation ASAP so I could start picking her up and taking her with me on Sunday mornings. (Her dad usually brings her back home in the late afternoon.) I looked away and noticed this other man gently wrestling with these two preteen boys. I smiled, thinking about my nephews. One of them even looked like my nephew, Devin. I shook my head after they walked back into the sanctuary. I was getting too lost in my thoughts.

I looked down to where Val had been sitting and saw a small booklet of prayers. That’s funny, I thought. I hadn’t noticed it there before. I picked it up then opened it to read a prayer titled “National Morality”:

Father, I know that the spirit of the world creeps into the body of Christ almost unawares sometimes, and before we know it, we can so easily be led astray and caught up in worldly actions (at times so subtly we don’t even recognize what has happened to us.)
So in the name of Jesus, I pray that You would raise up a voice in our nation that would rally the body of Christ and cause us to become the standard bearers to reach a degree that we would profoundly affect the morality of our nation.

I looked at the cover and saw that the book was called Pray for Our Nation: Scriptural Prayers to Revive Our Country.

I put it down and thought, ‘Yes, we need that voice.’ Then I thought, ‘Could that voice be me?’ But I knew it couldn’t. This prayer called for some kind of savior, some kind of leader. Someone who could lead a whole country out of tyranny and into victory. No, that voice could not be mine.

I left the foyer and was happy to see a familiar face in the entrance: My friend, Christine. She stood in a group with two other woman, Nicole’s friend, and a man who smiled at me then looked back at Christine, who was talking. I looked around and didn’t see Christine’s kids until I looked over at the play castle in the corner and there were Mikaela and Joshua, playing with another child, a little girl. (My daughter is friends with her children.) I smiled as I watched them play then looked back at the group, patiently waiting until they finished talking. When the others walked away, Christine smiled as she walked up to me and we gave each other a hug. We made small talk. She told me they’d recently moved and I asked about that. as she walked away, talking on her cell phone she’d just opened, she said something and I didn’t lipread her the first time.

“What?” I asked.

She moved her fingers to indicate typing. “Email me,” she said.

I said “okay” and thought about showing her the sign for “email” but she was gone before I had the chance. I started to leave before noticing Joshua trot up to me. He asked a question but I couldn’t lipread him. I know he said an “er” word, though. Either he was asking about Jennifer or asking where his mother had gone. I decided to cover my bases with this one. “Jennifer’s not here and your mother went that way,” I said, pointing. He bounded off through the doors then his little sister jumped off the slide to run after him.

I left the church, thinking maybe I could attend the evening services. I couldn’t recall the time for it, exactly, but I’d gotten a bulletin before I left and I’d check on there to see. Hopefully, I could go, but I wouldn’t if it was too late. Didn’t want to be out walking when it was dark.

The trip wasn’t a total waste, though. I continued down West 18th and eventually came to this park that my daughter and I had visited in the past. (It was next to the Boy’s and Girl’s Club, as well as a school.) I walked along the trail, wondering which tree I would sit under to write down all of this stuff I had crammed in my mind. (I had my notebook with me, the notebook I take EVERYWHERE with me, as well as my Bible and the library book I was hoping to finish reading.) I didn’t want to sit too close to the trail; who knows what kind of people wandering the trail that would invite?? I didn’t want to get anybody’s attention or notice, either. I wanted to find somewhere to sit that was “out of the way” so I could read, write, maybe even meditate or pray. I eventually came to one tree I was particularly drawn to (don’t ask me how, but being around trees, I pick up on a sort of “energy” coming from them) but I thought it was too close to the trail. Also, there were three guys in the field playing Frisbee and something about them made me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t want to be within their view, either. I gradually found another tree and sat under it. It was actually pretty comfortable, so I grabbed my pen, opened my notebook and started writing.

Soon, however, I noticed out of the corner of y eye the three guys appearing not too far from me. I guess they’d been walking around the park. I started feeling nervous but just told myself “keep it cool” as I continued writing. Then I noticed the Frisbee rolling along and landing nearby. I tensed but kept writing, anyway. I saw the feet of the guys as they got closer and I just keep telling myself, you know, “Don’t show fear.” I didn’t know what kind of guys they were but I wasn’t about to check them out. I was only aware of them standing around me. I was really nervous now. I had my Bible on top of my library book; what if they were the kind to go after some Christian and give a good scare? What if they thought I was some geek they could bully?

I finally looked up and saw one of them walking past at my left. He forced a smile, not much of one, really, and I curtly nodded before I went back to writing. I hated being rude but when it comes to personal safety, you HAVE to be rude. (I remembered all too well my mother getting angry at me when I told her in our phone call about the drunk coming to my living room window and constantly asking me to unlock my door and let him in, and how I’d been “too nice” to him and should’ve called the police. Her words had not been wasted on me.) I don’t know if they were trying to talk to me but I didn’t feel up to looking at the others to see if their lips were moving. I was relieved when they walked off.

As I sat there, looking around as I wrote, I saw a lot of dogs with their companions, going around the park. Some people threw Fisbees for the dogs to chase and some just walked their dogs. I noticed one dog that reminded me of an Australian Queensland I once had named Rascal. I wonder if this dog was the same breed. It looked like it! Either that breed or a Border Collie. The dog had more hair than mine had and was fatter, too. Probably a Border Collie. There was also a Bichon Frise and it happily raced over to me and jumped on my left shoulder, wagging her tail. I chuckled as I petted her, smiling. There were two guys with these dogs. I watched as one of them threw a Frisbee, hoping the Collie would go after her. That dog didn’t show much interest in chasing a Frisbee. I related; I’d tried to teach Rascal to chase/catch a Frisbee many times, but to no avail. She just wanted to run around and play.

The next thing I looked up to see was a man standing a ways off, wearing a big hat and smiling as he looked at something. I watched, wondering what he was looking at. He threw something across from him and a few seconds later I smiled as I saw a squirrel scamper across, retrieving the treat the man had thrown. This reminded me of the time I’d gone on a drive to pick up a file cabinet someone was giving away. (I didn’t get there in time to pick it up, though. Sigh.) On my way there, I saw this squirrel bouncing across the street, carrying this green apple. It abandoned the apple and scampered off because I was heading its way, but after I drove past that part of the road, I parked the car, got out with a grocery bag then used the bag to pick up the apple and throw it in the direction the squirrel had run to hide. I know, I know. Squirrels are a nuisance and we shouldn’t encourage them by feeding them, or anything. But, I can’t help it. I love animals too much to let any one of them go hungry.

I continued writing as I sat under the tree but I was starting to feel uncomfortable from sitting in that same position for so long. I moved to a more comfortable position then continued writing before I noticed a big spider hurriedly walking along the paper I was writing on. Eek! I jolted as I threw the notebook off my lap, then I sighed. Wonderful! Now I had a crushed spider on the page I’d been writing on. Nice going! I sighed again, carefully standing then retrieving the notebook off of the ground. I gingerly moved the pages to where I’d seen the spider on, but, thankfully, it wasn’t there. Whew! I guess it flew off as I knocked the notebook off my lap.

I decided I’d been sitting under that tree long enough. I put the notebook on this metal thing to finish what I wanted to write then got my stuff in my arms and headed out of the park. I wanted to get a Sunday paper on my way home. At first I planned to stop at the 7-11 for it, but I wanted to cross the bridge next to the park and the 7-11 wasn’t on that side. I stood in the middle of the bridge, looking down as cars passed underneath and drove down the street. I smiled as I remembered how my daughter and I had been in this same spot before, and how she’d called hello to a girl walking on the sidewalk. I watched for people but didn’t see any. What would I say if I had called down to someone on the sidewalk? Would I do my imitation of that character from Young Guns and yell, “Dawg! Did you see the size of that chicken?!” Haha. That’d be funny.

I crossed over the other half of the bridge and saw that there was a bike trail on one side, another trail in front of me and the parking lot of an Albertson’s to my left. I decided to get my paper from the Albertsons. I thought of how I’d acted with the spider in the park and felt embarrassed. When I lived in the desert, I saw TONS of spiders. Seriously, worse spiders than that one! That spider probably wasn’t as deadly as a black widow or wolf spider, yet I had freaked out over it. Good grief. Well, I don’t like spiders, period. I smiled as I remembered one thing Mark had written in his letter to me, during the time we’d sent letters back and forth after I moved away from Northern Cali (and this was before we kept in touch through emails). Something about how, if he saw a spider, he’d take his steel-toed heel and go, “Aiyeee!!! *stompstompstoomp*” Haha. I started laughing as I remembered this. I worried someone might see me walking through the parking lot, laughing, and thinking I was crazy, but I didn’t care. What’s wrong with laughing at a silly thought?? We all have them! At least I’m not storming around, telling everybody to “fook” off.

Before I went into the Albertsons, I admired their display of pumpkins on sale then headed inside. I looked around at all the food, feeling hungry. Actually, I was starving! But I’d only brought a few dollars with me. The rest of the money I had was at home. It was either get a paper or get something to eat, and I could eat at home but not get a paper at home. So, the paper won. I walked around, trying NOT to notice the coffee bar, then walked to the book display and looked at all the books, wishing I could read every one of them. Haha. Though I HAVE read some of Stephen King’s books (not all of them, though. Don’t hurt me!). I looked up to see this one guy standing at the register that I knew was the station where people stood to help out at the self-serve registers, and my heart froze. He. Was. CUTE! Oh, my gosh. Wow. Haha. Seriously! I actually felt an instant attraction to him. He noticed me then looked away. Ah, the first sign a guy is not free. Well, either that or he’s not thinking the same thing or...he’s gay. Well! That COULD be a possibility! I didn’t think too much on that, though. I still thought he was cute. He sort of reminded me of a certain someone. A former celebrity, whose recent pics I have seen on some MySpace pages of girls I talk with. I went to get a newspaper, keeping my view of him out of the corner of my eye, then, with paper in hand, I thought about which line to get into. Of course I wanted to get into the line closest to his station! But it was full. So I chose the next closest one. A part of me teased myself. “You want to get into this line because it’s close to HIM, don’t you??” Well, all I was buying was a newspaper. It made sense to pick a self-serve checkout line.

But as I neared it, I realized something. How do you scan a newspaper? I cluelessly turned it over in my hands, wondering if I scan the bar code on it or...do I scan something else? Are papers different? I felt embarrassed at my uncertainty. I’ve used self-serve checkout lines before, but never with a newspaper. How did I do it?

I reluctantly approached Mr. Lookalike and asked him how I scan the newspaper. I felt like an idiot and he probably thought I WAS an idiot! But he was very nice and seemed very helpful as he took the newspaper and showed me how to use the machine as he scanned it for me. ‘You don’t have to do that, just tell me,’ I thought as I watched, feeling like a nimrod. But he didn’t seem bothered that I’d asked, or anything. He was very helpful. He had the most amazing smile!! Best of all, I had no trouble lipreading him. I understood every word he said! I thought that was cool. NICE to be able to lipread SOMEBODY without asking them to repeat. I glanced at his tag and noticed his name was Dillon. After I paid for the paper, I asked if I needed a bag. Didn’t want security swarming over me as I walked out of the store carrying a newspaper. He said I didn’t need one then asked if I had the receipt then checked the machine. I told him I had, remembering I’d put it in my coat pocket. He said don’t worry about it and we wished each other a nice day before I left. I had noticed he wore a silver ring on his left finger. It wasn’t on his ring finger, but STILL a ring, nevertheless. I had to assume he was attached, or something like that. Dang. Oh, well. Other fish in the sea, and all that.

Later, I was chatting with my youngest sister online. I told her about the guy and she said I NEEDED to meet a nice guy somewhere. Get involved with stuff and try to meet someone new. I acknowledged this. I KNOW I need to meet someone new but, even though I was ready to be with someone new, I kept thinking, ‘Is it too early?’ It hasn’t even been three months since my divorce was made legal.

But another part of me wasn’t sure this was a good time in my life for someone new right now. My life’s a mess. I’m still trying to get back on my feet and get a freaking JOB, already. (Darn vocational rehab making me run all over for hearing tests, mobility tests and skin tests and saying I can’t try to get work myself! Grr!!) I need to improve my financial status (and get my finances in order, if I can EVER figure out how to do that!), TRY to get some more furniture (my neighbor was surprised we don’t have a TV), and just get better settled into a routine. I’m STILL not used to being responsible for everything, for doing everything. There’s still habits from when I was used to being with someone I haven’t been able to change yet. And I’m still not used to sleeping alone yet (the dog doesn’t count). I mean, sure, my daughter sleeps in my bed with me, sometimes, but I know I can’t nurture that habit. She needs to be able to sleep alone in her own bed. And, so do I.

Yeah, I know I need someone new in my life. I just don’t know if this is the right time for that to happen. Maybe I'm better off letting life lead me wherever it leads me.