Marriage at ANY cost?? NAH! I don't think so...

One of my co-workers is HIGHLY intrigued by my single lifestyle. He’s the one that is always asking me if I’ve partied with Bono all weekend again or if I’ve heard from Brad (Pitt) lately. YEAH RIGHT!!! It makes me laugh.

[Truthfully, neither Bono or Brad float my boat, and come on the chances of my mingling in either of their lives…well, those odds just aren’t in my favor, now are they?!?! But it’s all rather comical to talk about in jest.]

Well, this past Thanksgiving, he invited me to join him and his family for their Thanksgiving dinner. Why did he invite me? So that he could arrange to introduce me to a friend of his who was visiting over the holiday. At first, it seemed intriguing. This particular friend sounded like a good guy. For weeks before the holiday, I heard about him, and this guy appeared to have it all—a strong faith, a brilliant mind, a successful career, good looks, a couple of comfortable homes, lots of financial independence and security, the means to travel, and a wife...Yes, you read that correctly. There’s a wife involved. A WIFE??? Yes, it was true. My co-worker was trying to set me up with a married man.

And what was his justification for that, you might ask? After all, my co-worker has been happily married to the same woman for over 20 years. I know he believes in the sanctity of marriage, and so naturally, it didn’t make sense to me.

"Well," says he in response to the look of horror on my face, "my friend is really unhappy in his marriage, Mel. He just needs the right woman to come along and push him to that breaking point."

I gasped. I was speechless! Did he seriously think that I would want to be the other woman? Apparently, this man's wife left him but hasn’t divorced him. They’ve been living apart for a couple of years now, and he hasn’t taken the final steps to divorce her. Instead, he's been trying to reconcile with his wife. And now my co-worker wanted to bring me into the picture so that I would somehow prompt this man to divorce his wife. I was blown away!

I’m not saying that I think divorce is always wrong here. In fact, I’m not quite sure where I stand on the issue. I don't know all the facts in this case, and so I wouldn't even consider advising this man on what he should do. He has to make his own decisions. As for me, the facts were clear. A married man is just that--he’s married! And until he is otherwise, he is off limits--despite other circumstances. I’m not crossing or blurring any lines just because I want a husband of my own.

I opted to spend Thanksgiving with my own family, but I confess that the whole conversation has stuck with me. I’ve replayed it over and over in my mind. As a single woman, I place a very high value on marriage. Sometimes I think I have marriage up on a pedestal above all else, which it shouldn’t be. Yes, it’s vital, but it’s not the end all. It’s not the only relationship I should be seeking, but since I don’t have it yet, it’s a sort of magical union—-a mystifying joint venture that I think about all too often. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have someone else to share my life with—to confide in, to go places with, to love, etc.? It’s only natural to have these desires. After all, my CREATOR gave them to me, and HE placed a great value on the importance of the marriage relationship, too. So, it is important, but maybe I dwell on it too much?

Looking back now, I can see that this situation has made me do some soul searching and has gotten me to ponder exactly how far I’m willing to go. Yes, I want to be married. I do. And even though I have these hopes and dreams to have a husband of my own one day, I don’t want it at ANY cost! As tempting as it might be, I don’t want to be the means of ruining one relationship just to secure my own happiness. I can do better than that or maybe I’m meant to stay single. Either way, there’s a line in the sand there…and I dare not cross it.

Desperately Needing More Sleep...

I’m feeling really tired lately. Don’t quite know why, but I am. I leave work each night just exhausted. Things have been busy this month, and so that’s the only thing I can account for regarding this change, but I’ve been going to bed about 10 every night, and some nights I've been making myself stay up THAT long. That’s completely unlike me. I’m a night owl. The type that normally struggles with making herself crawl into bed at 11 or 11:30 on a week night. Sure, I usually suffer for it the next morning, but my body gets used to the lack of sleep eventually, and then on weekends I make up for it by sleeping in!

But with this new system, I’ve been getting about 7-8 hours of sleep every night, and this has been going on for about 2 weeks now. I’m starting to wonder if my new medication is affecting me. I guess it can cause drowsiness, but I take it right before I go to bed, and so unless it has a major 18-20 hour delay in affect, I can’t quite point a finger to it yet.

Maybe my body has finally purged the last drop of caffeine from my system, and so now I’m lagging. HA! I mean I have been off of the caffeine now for nearly 3 months. But I don’t feel less energetic necessarily. I’ve been getting ready in record time and getting to work early, too. And I haven’t really started to slow down at all. I just find myself ready for bed earlier.

Well, today a new thought crossed my mind...I’m starting to wonder if this means that I’m officially all grown up now? Does that mean that I will no longer have any fun? Am I soon going to be the type of person that starts to shut down now around 8 PM? I’m concerned...

Stay tuned for further developments!

Not at All What I had Planned...It was better!

Christmas and the whole holiday season this year wasn’t exactly what I had planned. I had wanted to attend the Christmas Eve service at my church and then spend Christmas day on my own. I was looking forward to some quiet solitude, but that just didn’t happen. I ended up spending Christmas Eve with my sister and her family. They live an hour from me, and so I drove up there and spent a couple of days with them. We opened gifts, took a drive through the lighted parks, and had a lively time. And on Christmas Day, I went to church with some of my family and then spent the day at my brother’s home. It was good.

My parents came to Indiana after New Year’s for a few days. My sister brought them along with her kids and 2 of my other nieces and nephews with her to visit me at work. We all went to lunch, and then I took them around the office introducing them and thrilling Jacob with my “building.” It was fun.

And then later that week, more of my extended family got together for my Grandma’s surprise 90th birthday party. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect or who all would come, but it turned out to be a wonderful day! My Grandma was surprised, and our whole family got a shock as well by the arrival of my Grandma’s only living sister, Carol Jean. She walked in and gave us all a start! There were happy tears all around the room. The whole day was incredible, and I know it meant a great deal to my Grandma. It was spectacular.

The next day, the newest member of our family, baby Grace, was having her baby dedication, and most of those gathered for my Grandma’s party made the drive to Peru for the occasion. The dedication was a special moment for all of us as we watched Barbara and Jonathan present their new baby to GOD and ask for his help and strength in raising up this tiny creature for HIS service. After the service, everyone came to my brother’s house for a large family meal. I got to visit with my Aunt and Uncle and 2 of my younger cousins that I haven’t seen in more than 10 years. And there was never a dull moment around the table and in the family room as we all chatted and took pictures. Several times, it was like the paparazzi around the red carpet as several of us took snapshots all at once. The whole experience was reminiscent of old family get-togethers from years gone by. It was all a delight.

Later that day, I left and made the drive back to Indianapolis and entered my small empty 1-bedroom apartment with a big sigh. I had planned on more solitude, on getting more cards made, more scrapbooking done; but it just hadn’t happened that way. In fact, my vacation and extended holiday season was not at all what I had planned…it was better.

People Are Funny About the Holidays…

Last year for the first time in my 30 years, I spent Christmas on my own alone—yep, just me and my plants hanging out. I talked to my family on the phone for a few minutes, watched a couple of favorite movies and ate one of my favorite foods—fried chicken! It was a great day! I had no stress, no worries. I had peace and quiet and amused myself. It was all good to me.

But to some of my family and friends, my independence and decision to stay home alone on Christmas Day spelled trouble:
Is she depressed?
Is she suicidal?
Was this really just a desperate cry for help?
Did someone need to intervene?
[Nope. None of the above.]

Then there were the other questions:
Is she secretly dating someone?
Is there a guy staying at her place?
[Alas, no, but don't I wish…]

Somehow by choosing to remain on my own on Christmas Day, I scared people. They seemed to think that something had to be wrong because I chose solitude.

Ah, but nothing was wrong. I wasn’t going crazy or losing my edge. I wasn’t cutting myself with a knife or sobbing hysterically. There was no crime or heinous act being committed. I was simply enjoying the day on my own. [GASP!]

Since becoming an adult, I’ve been like a window shopper at Christmas. I’m peering through the glass at others’ celebrations, but I’m not an active participant myself. I’ve spent past Christmases watching my nieces and nephews open gifts, and it’s been marvelous to watch their eyes light up with sheer delight at what was inside each package. I’ve hung out with other friends for a large family style dinner, and I’ve felt blessed to be right where I was at that time. But while everyone always does their best to make me feel welcome at their holiday celebrations, I always feel like something is missing. IT IS. I’m the one who’s missing. I’m not celebrating. I’m observing.

I want to have my own Christmas traditions—special moments that entirely belong to me (and maybe my family of 10 houseplants). I can’t help but wish for something more personal that belongs to me—for my own way of celebrating the day that the Savior of the world was born! I don’t feel that the holiday is any less simply because I spend it on my own.

And this Christmas, I’m feeling more of the same. I’ve spent days and weeks leading up to the holidays with lots of friends and family. We’ve watched Christmas movies together, we’ve spent a day baking Christmas cookies, we’ve had gift exchanges and attended holiday parties, and we’ve shopped till we’ve dropped. So now, I’m ready to celebrate…on my own!

This holiday season, for the first time, I’m planning to attend one of the Christmas Eve services at my church. I’ve heard that it’s a very special service, and I’m looking forward to it with great anticipation. So I’ve got my own plans on Christmas Eve now.

And after that? I don’t know yet. I haven’t made any definite plans. I’m sure I’ll make the trip North to spend time with my sister and her family. I wouldn’t miss that for the world. And closer to the New Year, my parents and 4 siblings and their families will all get together and exchange gifts and have a meal together at my brother’s house. It will be a fun-filled, busy day of gifts, games and food. Highly enjoyable!

Yes, I’m looking forward to celebrating Christmas this year. Alone or with family and friends, I won’t be lonely! It will all be good...

Cookie Time!

There are moments of pure delight with my nephew Jacob that make me forget any of my current worries or problems and just remind me again of the simple amazements that make life a blessing!

I visited him and his family this weekend and together, we made and decorated lots of cookies. He totally got into rolling out the sugar cookie dough and making the cut-outs, and then when it came to frosting them, he had his own unique style. I could have sat there and watched him all day as he savored each moment.

I think sometimes we forget the simple joys, the childhood delights...but when we see them again in the face of another 3-year-old, it rekindles again some of those old feelings. Life is good!

My Own Personal Snow Globe

I’m totally thrilled it’s winter. I don’t enjoy driving in snow or on ice. I can do without that, thank you very much. But I do love the colder temps and seeing my breath when I walk outside. It’s sweater weather, turtleneck season, hot cocoa time. There is something magical about winter. I just caught myself staring out the window here at work, just watching the snowflakes whimsically dance along as they drift downward.

It reminds me of 20 years ago when I loved tramping around outside in the snow and staying outdoors in just about kind of weather. There my sister and I would stay all day when we could. We’d bundle up and go sledding in the ditch. Our ditch was our own private kingdom. It was a small city-owned drainage ditch that ran along our property, and we loved to explore it. There was a creek at the bottom, of course, and so we’d slide down into the ditch and break the ice in the small creek or attempt to cross the icy terrain.

And of course, playing outside is always better when you have a vivid imagination, and the Bradley sisters always had that! One day we’d be Indiana Jones exploring a frozen jungle, and then next day we’d be the next greatest figure skater as we glided along the ice in our moon boots. We’d stay out in the cold until we’d hear “Mel-anie! Barb-bra!” echoing across the neighborhood as my Mom would call us home for dinner from our own back door. That was a bit embarrassing at the time, but it’s a rather fond memory now.

Four years in South Carolina didn’t change this Midwestern girl. I still like having a real winter and enjoying 4 distinct seasons. Yes, as an adult, snow now requires more work, but I am still quite content with winter. And somewhere deep inside me there is still a little girl just dying to head back home to Michigan and go exploring through the snow-covered ditch again.

Every year it’s the same...

I languish long and hard over what to put into my Christmas newsletter, better known as Mel’s Monologue. Do I include this or that? Do I pretend that all is rosy or do I go with gutsy honesty? How should my tone read—sanguine or sarcastic? Who will my letter offend this year? Such worthy dilemmas…

The truth is that I don’t consider my life all that significant to anyone else other than myself. I mean, I’m happy I’m alive and still kicking. I like my life personally, and I find it exciting enough for me. It's a full life to me, but I wonder what is worth sharing each year with others. And it all comes back to comparison. In comparison to the lives of those around me, I think my life must appear to be rather dull and not worth reading about…

I didn’t buy a house this year or make a big move. I’m still living in my one-bedroom apartment—killing every spider or bug I find. But you know what—I love my apartment. It’s just right for me. So what that I’ve been here for 5 years now! This is home!

No big news this year about my having a baby (miraculous conception indeed) or finding myself a man! Yeah, the baby really would be more than a surprise! And OK, so John Cusack is the only man I’ve been seeing of late. But that’s just because I’ve been re-watching all of his movies and once again loving his ability to play quirky characters and wondering where are all the good men gone…

I spent a lot of my time on my own this year at home (in my one-bedroom apartment). I opted to pull out of a singles group at my church that seemed to be dying off and decided to back off some other social activities as well. I wouldn’t quite say I am a total recluse yet, but I’m definitely enjoying life alone. But I did add myself back as a volunteer at the IMA, one of my favorite places in the city, and so that should be another point in my favor. OK, so I still watch a lot of movies and read a lot of books and write a lot—all on my own. But if I’m happy and content with the way things are, who am I hurting? Am I supposed to pretend that there is more to life than what GOD has already given me? YEAH! I’m done with that. This is as good as it gets for me…at this time. I'm not complaining, and so why should anyone else complain about it?

I’ve made lots of cards and scrapbooked a great deal this year. Truth is that I probably made well over 500 cards this year, and I’ve loved it. I’ve given lots of them away, and that’s part of the joy of making them. And as for scrapbooking, I still have my own personal style. I’m not into fluffy or pretty scrapbooking. For me it’s still about the story behind each picture and not the pretty paper or specialty items to coordinate the scene. It’s still about the story behind each smile…

And so as I start to compose yet another newsletter, I smile a wry smile and savor the delights of being alive. [JUST BREATHE!!!] Yes, this is enough… Maybe it's not enough in the mind of someone else, but my CREATOR and I are the only ones that it should matter to. They have their own lives. GOD gave me this one. I'm grateful, and I'm sticking to it.

I love Thanksgiving...

It’s just the best holiday ever—-delicious food and favorite family recipes, splendid time playing board games and boundless laughter, high-handed schemes and faulty attempts to hide the TV remote just to annoy my football-obsessed elder brothers, etc. Ahhh! What could be better!

Normally, my Mom and I bundle up my nieces and nephews after our delightful lunch and brave snow, hail or wind all for the 3-block walk from our family home to the village library. Here in this small Midwestern town, the city yearly maintains a life-sized manger scene complete with Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, shepherds, the wisemen, and farm animals. There we enjoy a visit with Baby Jesus, and I utilize my own paparazzi-like skills to take as many pictures as possible to capture these fleeting moments of whimsy. I try to suppress my laughter as one niece gives Joseph a kiss, and another sizes a shepherd up to see if she has grown taller than he this year. My nephews climb all over the animals and pose for funny shots as they straddle a camel or cow.

Next we march over to the Croswell Swinging Bridge, the 2nd stop on our annual pilgrimage. I usually bolt across the suspension bridge chasing after my 2 eldest nephews, while my Mom lags behind a bit and manages to hold the hands of my younger nieces and nephews as they timidly cross the wooden bridge—trying not to look down at the muddy waters below.

The playground near the bridge is always a highlight of our visit. The kids scramble up and down, in and out of the various amusements. My Mom tirelessly pushes a couple of her grandchildren on the swings while I keep an eye on the others and attempt to keep them from hurting each other and themselves.

Afterwards, we trudge back through the elements homeward bound, ready to return indoors and enjoy some hot chocolate and other treats. It’s truly an enjoyable experience, and one I do look forward to every year. What fine memories we have made!

This year, we’re not going home to Michigan for Thanksgiving. We won’t have our traditional walk to look forward to this season, but I am confident that we’ll have new delights to revel in. We’ll still have most of the family together in one house, and so that’s a blessing! We’ll still enjoy some family game time, and I have no doubt there will be plenty of photo opportunities as well.

Yes, I’m anticipating another fine holiday season…

There is something about Jane Austen that makes me long for England...

The English countryside has always been my favorite future destination for as long as I can remember. I picture myself meandering along the green hills and keenly admiring the estate homes and gardens…camera in hand, of course.

My sister has more than once reminded me that the England of movies is far from the England that tourists encounter, and that perhaps my visit to England is best left to my romantic impressions from literature and my vivid imagination.

After all…

1. There won’t be any swashbuckling gentleman vowing for my hand in marriage or escorting me to wonderful parties. This is really a shame, need I say more. But then I too like Jane have stayed single because I have yet to meet my own beloved Captain Wentworth or the ever-elusive Mr. Darcy.

2. I won’t be found waltzing along a ballroom floor. We all know this girl can’t dance. I have no rhythm—just ask my sister, who became my own personal metronome when I was learning to play the piano. And as for my dance moves, I’ve watched myself in the mirror, and it’s not a pretty sight. Picture the moves of The Egyptian, The Robot and The Funky Chicken all rolled into one grotesque scene. Rather tragic in of itself.

3. I can’t elegantly cantor across the countryside on a horse. I don’t resemble anything slightly elegant on a horse, and I don’t sit nicely in the saddle. (Actually, I’m not sure what that means, but I know I don’t qualify.) My horse riding abilities are rather limited, to say the least, and I usually end up practically strangling the horse by my tight grip on the reins. I’m far too engrossed in my mere survival astride this massive beast to consider my posture or “seat.”

4. My walks across the countryside would be more than slightly inhibited by the fact that I am completely out of shape. I would certainly not keep up with Lizzie and her delightful daily romps at Rosings Park. Yes, I think Lizzie would have to abandon me along the path after about 3 miles as I suffered yet another near fatal asthma attack brought on by far too many carbohydrates in my 31 years and my lack of regular exercise. I’d be winded and wheezing—a pathetic sight indeed.

5. And then there’s the idea that everyone seems to state—doesn’t it rain a lot in England? Maybe so, but the sun does shine sometimes—even in England, right? I’m convinced it does, and so while I’m cooped up indoors awaiting more pleasant weather for touring the countryside, I can re-read my favorite parts of Jane Austen’s books and be struck anew with the freshness and vitality of her words 200 years since she wrote them.

Maybe not today, tomorrow or even next year, but someday I plan to take that trip to England. Until then, I can revel in the magic of British literature, television, theatre and movies so accessible to me. And tonight I will get to see the newest rendition of Pride and Prejudice on the big screen. [SIGH!] Happy thought indeed…

Crushing and Dreaming...

I’ve had a slight crush on the single guy in a Christian musical group for a while now. This group visits my church yearly, and so I’ve become a bit of a fan. I think the crush really started when I checked out their website, and his profile cracked me up. He was able to laugh at himself and use sarcasm well, and that’s a huge positive in my book. Plus there was the music factor. Not only does he sing in the group—he is the main musician. He plays the piano extraordinarily well and also works the keyboards, etc. So needless to say, he’s very talented.

Well, this past weekend was their annual visit to my church. And this time, the group had some news about the single guy’s marital status. He had recently gotten engaged. I was happy for him and even happier for the girl now sporting a ring, but I’d be lying if I denied the little inward sighing on my part. Now this crush, like almost all of my crushes of the past was just that—a crush. This was no burgeoning romance, no broken heart, no tears or resentment.

As I drove home that night from the concert, I started laughing at myself. What was that sigh for? It wasn’t like I had thought of him more than twice in the past year. How would my life be different now that I knew he was engaged? It wouldn’t be. Would there be anything missing from my life? No. It wasn’t as if we’d been corresponding or communicating in anyway. We’re strangers to one another.

Fact is I’m a chronic dreamer, and I tend to imagine even after a brief meeting what it would be like to get to know someone better. A random act of kindness or a chance encounter has me pondering the what-ifs for hours. Spending an hour in conversation with someone I find mentally stimulating has me curiously distracted as I contemplate how to arrange a second meeting. More than once or twice A WEEK, I contemplate what life would be life with that man, this other man or that guy over there.

I’m fickle. There is no consistency in my day dreams. It’s not that all of these men are blonde or tall. There’s no special attribute that all of these men have in common really either—with the exception that there was something about them that intrigued me.

Well, this past Sunday night as I drove home after the concert, there was one thing that I realized about my day dreams that I think is harmful. This musician I thought rather remarkable has a life on the road probably 40 out of 52 weeks a year. I was imagining how fun it would be to travel on tour with the group. Well, the truth is that one of us is home 40 out of 52 weekends in a year, and while touring might have some glamorous appeal, I’d probably prefer to be home in my own space rather than on a cramped tour bus any day. I’m not the type of person that would want to be put on the spot or brought out from the shadows on display as the group traveled from church to church either. I’m a behind the scenes person. I wouldn't like life on the road, and I'd definitely not be a trophy wife.

And what about all the others I’ve daydreamed about in the past? The same is true. See, I tend to imagine my life in their world as if a relationship was a way to escape my own world. I’ve been picturing me in their lives, but I can’t really imagine them in mine, which is rather ironic. It seems to me that THAT would be something that would need to be a match! What is so wrong with my own life that I feel I need to move on to another life rather than looking for someone to share the life that I’m living?

Something is wrong with that picture…