This is a Good Place

Thanks to a friend at John's work, we stayed in a sweet little condo in Dewey.  Deserted off-season beach, beautiful full moon over the calm water, sunrise from a warm upstairs room looking out at the ocean.  Very relaxing and nice to get a weekend date, just us.  Cream of crab soup, crabs, lots of cheese.  Crayon drawing on the table waiting for crabs.  And 3 different thrift store shopping for sister missionary clothes for Suzanna!  (Wearing my altered tiger-t-shirt cut in half and sewn onto a sweat shirt front=easy project.)

Another place to add to the Max's ashes memorial.  Good place to remember him, honor him, tell him how we are feeling, how much we miss him.

Speaking Assignments/Opportunities

Yesterday's tender mercies:  in Goodwill a sister walked in, (from another congregation-Winter's Run ward).  She told me she had been touched by what happened to our son. 

I asked, "How?" 

She said she had read John's blog--his talk from memorial service--and how much it meant to her, how much it helped her.  She has a brother struggling with addictions.  She knows.

Big teary hugs, her telling me she loved us, is still praying for us.  Last week the same thing happened at Staples, another sister from other ward, telling me she now knows what it means to continually pray, because she has been continually praying for our family.

Then later, in a craft store, a quilter buddy I haven't seen for years recognized me from the back (?) called my name, gave big hugs.

I still get teary.  The hugs are still appreciated.  I took a big sniff of Max's pillow this morning.  Not ready to put it in the wash yet.  Still smells like his hair.  I miss him.  I think about him often, especially when hearing music, deep voices.

And I think we are ready for this:

In less than a month we have our first gig, as parents for addiction recovery advocates.  It will be a large group of  Boy Scouts and parents.  We are using video Emma did with music of Max singing (in racquet ball court, shortened version of funeral home video, John posted it on Facebook).  Don't know how long yet they want us to speak/present.  The words below take me 7 1/2 minutes to get through. 

(I have appreciated Deb's & Mom's comments after they read it, and how much more it could encompass, all the other ails and problems in our communities...)

This is what I would say in a meeting of parents/students:

Sometimes it is hard to know what you want to do with your life. 

Some dreams you have might be close, almost within your reach, like surviving high school, getting your driver's license, going to a school game or dance, or just being brave enough to talk to someone you have a crush on and have them pay attention to you.

Some of your dreams may feel impossible or too far away, like getting a job that pays you enough to buy a decent car, or moving out and getting your own place, finding a group of friends who really understand you and get you, people who have your back, would bail you out if you're in trouble, people you can call at 2 am to pick you up from anywhere. 

If you feel like you don't have someone who would do that, I encourage you to look around, find a support system, a trusted teacher or maybe someone at your church, someone in your neighborhood, maybe it's a family member you get along with, someone who cares about you and your future, someone that you can trust, and look up to.

Maybe you have been betrayed in the past, or lost respect for someone who isn't living the way they expect you to live.  Maybe they are telling you "Don't get drunk, don't smoke" "Don't be stupid about drugs" or maybe they are saying "Just don't get caught."

Find someone else to look up to.  Find someone who is living the way you want to turn out like, a hero who has the kind of family life you dream about having, someone who has a good time because they are happy and safe and sober.

Not everyone needs to go to college.  Not everyone ends up famous and wealthy.  You may be a star in the making, and if that is true, I want you to come back to ________ (Aberdeen) and tell me "Mrs.Landbeck, I want to help someone!" because you made it big and you want to support one of our anti-drug seminars or a Defiance concert with your fancy money!

Find someone to look up to who is satisfied and happy with their life.  Trust them.  Listen to them. 

For 5 more minutes I want you to listen to me.  Trust me. 

I am a mom, married to my husband for 25 years.  We still date.  We go to Church every Sunday.  We have 6 children, because we wanted to be parents, raised them the way we were raised.

I have a son who was an addict.  He got straight A's.  He was smart.  He wanted to teach music, or maybe use music and psychology to help patients.  Music therapy.  Something.

Max was friendly, involved, a boyscout, went to church with us, clean-cut, big smile.

But he had some secrets.  One of them was a homemade bong he would light up in the bathroom, fan on, supposedly taking a shower.  What mom complains when her son wants to take a shower?!  A shower, yes, take a shower.  He liked using the shower upstairs because of the fan.

Maybe you think your parents don't know what marijuana smells like?  That they won't notice?  That they are clue-less, or too busy to pay attention?

Pot smells like sadness to me.  Loneliness.  It smells like "I am confused and not sure what is going on in my life and my friend at school told me this will feel better than sex and nobody likes me anyway and I don't think I'll ever get to have sex so maybe just inhaling a little--it's not real smoking--this will make all the pain and hurt go away, and I can just relax, chill for an hour or so...It's not hurting anyone..."

I am here to tell you DRUGS HURT.  I am not talking about medication prescribed by a doctor for legitimate medical reasons--which can also be abused.  DRUGS HURT YOU.  They hurt your brain, they hurt your feelings, they hurt your friends--your real friends who protect your future-you, who you want to be.  Drugs hurt your family.  Using drugs will make your momma cry.  Drugs will scare your siblings.  Drugs will hurt your bank account--turn you into a thief as the family's grocery money disappears from the kitchen counter.  Drugs hurt the trust your family has in you. Drugs hurt your grades.  They confuse you and take away goals and dreams.  Drugs will get you arrested.  Drugs will put you in front of a judge.  Drugs will make it so you can't be an eagle scout.  Drugs will put you in rehab--if you are lucky.  Drugs will make you a sneak.  Drugs will ruin friendship.  Drugs will waste your life.

Drugs will kill you.

2 and 1/2 years ago I sat in the room listening to Joe's lecture.  I had insisted that Max come along with us.  He was a senior in high school.  Like I mentioned earlier, he was clean-cut, intelligent, went to church every week.  Handsome lad.  As Joe listed off different names for drugs, Max sitting next to me whispered more street names for the same things, like I would be impressed he knew so much about it.  He had a barely patient grin on his face, thinking he was capable of smoking pot and controlling it, no big deal.  He thought he was special, an exception, that it wasn't hurting him.  I had cleaned his room that week, found a bong and his baggie stash, calmly talked to him about it.  He wanted it back.  He wasn't ready to stop.   He thought he was in control.  Coming to a lecture like this was a condition of me not turning him in to the cops right then.

He got cleaned up, or so we thought, swearing to us that he had stopped.  Drugs made him a liar.  At an out-of-state college he escalated, started ordering things on-line that were technically at the time not illegal, are now, thankfully.  He abused over the counter decongestants.  He shoplifted cough syrup to try and get high.  He scared his sister and aunt and cousins at a family gathering, with loopy, dreamy weird talk.  And when he came home for Christmas, we knew something was wrong.

Worse feeling in the world:  knowing your baby is hurt, and not knowing how to help them feel better.  I thought he was going to die right then, his body temperature was too high, he couldn't stop shaking, huge dilated pupils, things you know to look for--right? 

You parents here today, you can't blame yourself.  You can't love them sober.  They have to choose.  And scaring them doesn't work.  Begging them, reasoning, bribing them--nahh, none of that works.

Pot quickly wasn't enough to get him as high as he wanted.  He escalated.  Using acid killed brain cells in Max.  His personality changed.  He lost his sense of humor, and he used to be really funny, witty. 

So, to condense the next years of our family life:  4+ rehab programs, 5+ trips to emergency room, yes an arrest.  I am an advocate of tough-love, not enabling a drug user.  NEVER give them money.  We changed the locks on house.  He tried and got kicked out of other family member's homes by breaking the agreed upon rules.  Applied for and briefly worked for many jobs.  Tried living with friends, but kept getting high.  We kept inviting him over for dinner, no matter where he lived.  He picked up smoking cigarettes through AA meetings, exchanging vices.  And he kept relapsing.

He kept trying to quit. 

He kept trying, and seemed to be in a good place.  He was scheduled to take a college class to learn how to be a radio/talking book reader, using his amazing voice for a career.

He was over at our home for birthday cake for his little sister's party, put in his order for what he wanted for his birthday in 2 weeks, made plans to go to a concert with me.  He hugged me, like he always did, saying good-bye and that he loved me.  My husband dropped Max off at his rehab house.

By midnight he was dead, hit by a freight train as he stepped out onto the tracks.

How much of what he was feeling that full moon night was from the drug damage in his weakened brain?  Or how much of his suicide was the drug-induced psychosis that would happen every time he used?  We don't know.

But I do know that drugs hurt him.

If you know someone in trouble, get them help.  Don't ignore it or just hope it goes away.  Don't shame them, but don't stay quiet.  If you are that person using drugs, stop now, before it gets harder and you are deeper.  Talk to someone, an adult in charge somewhere.  There is help.  Don't feel judged or shamed for needing help.  You can't get out alone.  It is never to late to change.

Make a pledge to be sober, and stay clean or get clean.  It will make all the difference in your life.  I can promise you, if you say "No thanks" or "That's not my thing" or just run away from the invitation to take a hit, you will be better off.  I know it.

I invite you to live!   Help stop the drug problem in this county.  Find hope, be a good friend, watch out for each other. Look for a hero or someone you admire to pattern your life after.  Know that you aren't alone in your struggles to be loved and be happy.  I want you to live.  I want you to reach your goals and dreams.  I want Max's stupid decision to use pot to be a voice of warning, an example of a wasted life and I want you to choose to be sober.

Thank you.

Happy Father's Day!

(photo credit:  Roxie Jane with our new camera)

Taken last night, before going to Wilson-Powell wedding reception. 

And a glimpse of how to take a $7.00 thrifted dress and make it modest: extend the sleeves, fill in the front, add silk-ripped flower necklace.

Volunteer, Already

I volunteered to be the Recycling Artist for a school event. Taught 47 students how to turn a t-shirt into a spiffy bag!

Wordsmithing & NOT Dingthrifting

We love words in this home! There are words painted on our dinning room table, our bedroom wall, other furniture...I told Suzanna and a car full of seminary girls on the way to school that finding a spouse who loves to read like I do was on my LIST, and how thankful I am that Brother Landbeck is a reader.

One of the sweetest things he does is bring me library books that he knows I will love. And lets me read them first (his steampunk version of Mistborn novels was a fun read)! John just checked out a 1007 page Brandon Sanderson book for me and got it for himself on cd for his commute. It is like a book-date! We can talk about it as we go.

I also love thrift store shopping. It is relaxing, satisfying. I spent from 9 am- 11:30 walking leisurely up and down the aisles of my favorite thrift store earlier this week, looking at everything, finding some great treasures. I make up my own rules, about how much I am willing to spend that trip, and I am ruthless about editing my cart, even after filling it up, putting things back if they aren't 50% off sale or meet more than one necessary criteria. It is hard to explain my process, but a morning of thrifting helps me see my priorities more clearly, identify what is important to me, what I can live without, what I need, even what I need to throw away in my life (and donate to the same thrift store). Thrifting is therapuetic.

So I was delighted to learn the word for this day.

I am subscribed to wordsmith. It comes as an email. Today's word:

spendthrift PRONUNCIATION: (SPEND-thrift)

MEANING: noun: A person who spends money wastefully. adjective: Wasteful with money.

ETYMOLOGY: A spendthrift is, literally, one who spends his wealth, from Middle English thrift (prosperity), from Old Norse thrifast (to thrive), from thrifa (to grasp). Earliest documented use: 1601.

NOTES: Spendthrift is the longest word whose phonetic and normal spellings are the same. Two colorful synonyms of this word are dingthrift and scattergood.

Wardrobe Evaluation: skirts & shirts for work

No matter what my weight, I am boxy-square shaped.  Short-waisted, narrow shoulders.  Thick-wristed, narrow-ankled.  Bigger stomach than rear end (pants would probably fit great if I wore them backwards).

I've been reading some wardrobe self-help books.  How to express your personality, how to find flattering clothes that FIT & Flatter.  I have to add on my own, ones that are modest, and don't cost a fortune...Going through my closet and drawers, this is what I wore to work last week:

#1 in Brown.  Skirt & top thrift store finds.  The skirt was originally a Land's End long sleeve dress with an uncomfortable polo-shirt collar that I cut above the elastic at the waist retaining the awesome pockets.  Stretchy, comfortable.  Empire waisted wrap shirt in vertical stripes.  Long sleeves with cuffs at wrists.   I would wear this again, but not perfect.  Skirt length a little long?  Grade: B-

#2 A line flowered thrifted skirt, solid 3/4 jersey top Sears sale.  Comfortable.  Busy bottom half.  Grade: B

#3 Plum & Polka Dots!  I loved wearing this!  Thrift store top, Sears sale skirt.  Bright happy color, comfortable skirt, like the length (longer than brown #1, hadn't noticed), sleeves cuffed at 3/4 length.  Curvy in right places, slimming.  Grade: A-

#4 Black & White & Gray thrifted top hits my elbows, Target sale skirt looks blocky/frumpy.  I need to wear this top with a more flattering skirt?  Grade B+

#5 Purple Old Navy sale & Light Blue Target sale.  If I had seen this picture before I left the house, I do not think I would have worn this.  Too flowy.  Too busy on bottom.  Grade: C

I might as well use the fabric on this skirt for a quilt, 100% cotton.  What do you think?

The Kool-Aid Coat

Kool-Aid is a great dye. You know, if you have ever gotten the dry powder on your skin when you are making it--it dyes natural fibers/skin really well. Works on wool! Vinegar helps to set it.

Before off-white 100% serious wooly thrifted coat. Missing buttons.

Strawberry/cherry/black cherry kool-aid after. Use COLD water, or wool will shrink. (I dissolved powder in a cup of hot water and then added to cold-bath tub submerged coat.) Slight ombre effect, muted and variegated, but very, very cool! Brown buttons sewn on with variegated pink thread.

Thrift Stores

I should have taken a before picture--this is the after. A wired wooden and brass chandelier marked for $6.50 pink tag and pink tags were 50% off. A can of primer and one of pink spray paint changed it. Flickering battery tea-lights balanced on the ends. I originally had thought about painting it black and using glow-in-the-dark paint to use as a Halloween decoration for our trunk or treat. It is still on the porch, and very pink and it does GLOW! Yes, I am that neighbor.

I think of all the great bargains, beautiful things I have found at thrift stores. I love the hunt. The treasure that was someone else's trash. I think of it as a way to recycle.

Thank you, to all the thrift store contributors!

Thrift Store Treasures and Treasured Words

Found some great t-shirts, including Beastie Boys, T-Rex "Free Hugs" and this one for John. Will he still wear it after December?

Sam is in 7th grade. A friend of his from school is coming to the baseball game with us tonight. We had taco salad. Charles said, "I've never had a holy dinner before."

"A holy dinner?" John asked.

(I was thinking maybe he meant we had a blessing on the food. Roxie said a sweet prayer before we ate.)

"Yes, one with a Mormon family, like you guys."

As the conversation continued, Charles told us we were the only Mormons he knows. John listed some other kids from school who go to Church with us.

"Ahh, he doesn't act like a Mormon!" he said.

"What do Mormons act like?" I asked.

"Peaceful, nice, like Sam...not saying mean words..."

Nice to know about your own kid.

Happy Nerdy Success!

And I mean that as a sincere compliment. (Two nerds get married and birth more nerds. It seems to be a dominant trait.) Check out that cool tie! Thrift store, yes! Suit $15 bought the night before after going through all the closets and not finding one that fit him. Light blue shirt, thrift store years ago--one of John's favorite shirts because I like the way it matches his eyes and he likes that I like that and wore it more--but if fits his son better now. Stewart graduates this year from the Science & Math Academy. Their final project is comparable to a thesis project. Many hours of work with a mentor. Specific budgets. Wonderful application potential. Think SUPER science fair for scary smart nerds.

Senator Nancy Jacobs looking at his project. Moving the venue to the cafeteria was brilliant, more space to move among the 42 projects, mentors, families, community visitors. Professionally catered. Very nice event.
I know Dwayne gets it. The rest of us are struggling with the mechanical engineering vocabulary. Check out Stewart's clever water bottle holder. That's my boy!

Saturday We Slept In

7 am feels luxurious. This is true, un-touched bed head Saturday morning real time.

Things I notice: John's peeking open eye, since he is holding the camera. Our un-matching pillows-his was a Valentine's gift from me, a heart sewn on a gray flannel thrifted pillowcase perfect condition-brand new with a single hole that the heart sits on now. My pillow is a birthday gift to him last year-luxurious 700 thread count sheets that are a bit darker than his eyes, but remind me of him.

One of the best marriage advice tips I've heard and agree with: buy the best sheets you can afford/find. Make bed a comfortable haven for you. A place you want to be together.

Thriftily

Cheap date idea: buy discount Easter Candy and share it!

Friday night we took Max to handbell practice (part of Maryland State Boychoir spring concert) and had 2.5 hours to spend in Baltimore. First stop: thrift store (John had a book to read while I browsed and found an amazing $8 king-size quilt to alter!!!!).

Sealed With A Kiss

We kissed for the first time 24 years ago (near midnight March 26th-27th).

No make-up, real bed head. John is on his way out the door for Sunday (21st) meetings. I sent him with a kiss.

And I don't think I have worn a yellow shirt in all of our couple posts so far. This was a thrift store find for $1.24. Love half-priced Thrift Town stuff. You have to buy the colored tag that is advertised on sale. Once I went up to the checkout with a basket of blue tags, when it was green, white and pink tags on half-sale. I felt silly, and put back all but one thing that I knew wouldn't be there if I waited for it to be on sale. You have to be thrifty, even with your thrift shopping!

I've heard the argument that you can save more money only shopping department store clearance sales. Ten $5.00 outfits is one really nice $50.00 outfit. Which would you rather have? I understand that--but it doesn't make a lot of sense on my budget and changing up and down chart-size.

I could be talked out of that if I had a personal shopper (like NicoleK!) and a dress size that had more options. It is really, really hard to find plus size clothing I can afford. Whereas thrift stores have stuff all the time in larger sizes. When I find something wonderful, I am thankful that some one's diet plan worked for them and they were so happy and committed to a new healthy life-style that they gave away all their fat clothes so they had to stay thin!