Hold On

I have a song stuck in my head. The group Kansas has a song, an admittedly old song, that has stuck itself in my brain and I can't stop singing, humming or thinking about it. The song is called Hold On. The chorus goes something like this,

"Hold on, Baby hold on, 'cause you're closer than you think and you're standing on the brink; Hold on, Baby hold on cause there's something on the way and your tomorrow's not the same as today."

Right now in my household, that sums up where most, no strike that, all of us are. We are standing on the brink. Not to be confused with the edge of the cliff. We have been putting out fires now for more than a few years. Granted, it's taken a toll, but I think we are standing on the brink of something breaking wide open for all of us. Maybe it's the book, or graduation, or the perfect job for somebody or just figuring out the answer to some burning life question. Whatever it is is headed straight for us. I feel it to my bones.



Michael and I have so much broken stuff in the last few months it's laughable. Truth is not only stranger than fiction, it's funnier, too. Quite literally every time we fix one thing, another breaks. Since March here's what has broken down: The wiener, Schnitzel, with a broken back and paralyzed legs. He's walking again after being crated and carried for 2 months. The washer and the very next day after it was fixed the dryer broke leaving us with a gas leak. The car broke. We lived as a 1 car family for 3 weeks. The computer quit leaving me stranded without an occupation or way to connect to the book. The pool needed refurbishing and would not wait another year. And then there was last night...



We had a relatively quiet and uneventful Memorial Day. The kids, all except Christine were home. Betty had to work and we just had hotdogs and hamburgers. The lawn needed mowing and when Betty tried to start the lawnmower, it made horrendous noises and refused to comply. Unphased, I told her it was probably flooded and the lawn could wait. Michael had come home from work and tried to start it and realized it was something more than just flooded. As we talked in the kitchen getting ready for dinner I noticed the there was no hot water. Mike went up in to the roasting hot attic to see what he deal was. For those of you who don't live in the south, our hot water heater is in the attic due to we have no basements. After further inspection he found a corroded valve on the top of the tank and the water heater was leaking at the top. It's only 7 years old. He turned off the water to the tank and let it go until he could get to the hardware store and try and fix it. I told the boys to either use our shower, on a separate tank, or take cold showers. My son Dan opted for the closer cold shower rather than drag all his stuff downstairs. That's when the fun really began.

I was in the kitchen and had just baked brownies for the kids. My darling girl, Keri, wanted chocolate and I can refuse her nothing. Keri isn't my birth child, she is one of my many "adopted" kids. I had just served her and Tom their just desserts when the florescent light fixture above the cook top began leaking water. The plastic cover (light diffuser) began filling with water at a rapid rate. It began to buckle. I ran to the garage and got a bucket to try and get the water out of the electrical light fixture. I may not be a home improvement expert, but I know water and electricity aren't compatible. I had Tom push upward on the opposite side of the long plastic covering to drain the water my way. I held the bucket under the spot that looked like the water would come out. Suddenly a huge wave of water poured directly onto my head completely missing the bucket. I stood on the chair drenched head to foot while poor Tom looked aghast at the miscalculation. I busted out laughing. I couldn't believe how ridiculous it was. I know I looked like a drown animal. Water was everywhere and we scrambled, carefully mind you because we have a ceramic tile floor that is like ice when it's wet, to get bucket and trash cans for the gush of running water. Tom ran up and told Dan to turn off the shower. I ran and woke up Mike to show him our current disaster. We emptied the light fixture and cleaned up the mess. It was late and Mike still needed to get some sleep, so he could function at his actual job.

Today we have to figure out where the leak is coming from which will require us to pull down a large chunk of our kitchen ceiling. I said last night that we finally get to take down the 1980's California florescent fixture we have disliked so much. Betty looked at me and said,"Stop saying you want to change stuff. Every time you do, something breaks!" Again I laughed. It was true. Every time we have not liked the look or function of something in our house, it falls spectacularly apart forcing us to do what we originally thought was something that could wait.



My darling manfriend Michael has been put to the test these last several months. He is our Mr. Fixit. True to form, he has fixed more appliances and cars and house stuff than has ever been required of him before. The minute he puts his tools back in the garage something else goes kaput. The physical and emotional strain would bury a lesser man. My Michael keeps going like the pink bunny with the drum. He's at his real job trying to support his family while I remain at home writing the story of us. My heart goes out to him. He is fastidious about making sure the chores are done and the fixing gets finished. But there are no more hours in the day for him than anybody else. He's just one overworked guy doing his best. So for my sweet, exhausted husband I dedicate the Kansas song and plan to play it for him when he gets home.
"Hold on, Baby, hold on. 'cause you're closer than you think and you're standing on the brink. Hold on, Baby hold on, for there is something on the way and your tomorrow's not the same as today..."