Pat edmondson faith inspirational
faith writings positive inspire
faith writings positive inspire
The Wall! Copyright 2000 by Pat Edmondson
After 15 years of marriage my husband and I agreed to separate. As with any
breakup, there are always two sides to every story, which I won’t go into the
details today, that’s another story.
Through this process I’m finding the person I was and the roles
I had assumed have changed. I could no longer define myself as the wife of
Mr. Mike Edmondson, but I’m still me and the mother to our two beautiful children. I thank God
every day that even though our marriage didn’t work out, that these two kids were one of the
positive, good things from our union. In thinking about my new self, my thoughts take
me back to my past.
I was born in a small town in Kentucky, the 2nd youngest daughter of eight children of Albert
and Rosella. My parents instilled in me a strong work ethic, which included faith in
God, to respect and care for others less fortunate then us, and to treasure and
value your family. We were taught to respect other peoples property and to take care of
your own stuff. Mom would clean up Hotel rooms before we left, because she
believed you should leave things in better shape then when you came. “If you
break it fix it” was one of my Dad’s mottos. Dad always had his workbench full of projects he
was working on. And if he borrowed something from you he would often return it in better
shape then when you lent it to him. He was always letting us play with scrap pieces of wood,
and would let us practice sawing (with a small saw) and hammer nails into the scrap boards.
He would often show us how to do something and then let us go. Teaching us
NOT by doing it for us…but showing us how to do it and learn from our mistakes. He was and
is always encouraging us, “You can do it!” he always says. This leads me to “The Wall”.
I’d been asking my husband for the last year to fix the damaged drywall in our
rental home. We did not know when we moved into our house, but the dryer was vented
incorrectly into the wall, causing the drywall to buckle, and mildew. In my husband’s defense,
he tried to patch it and ended up hanging a large framed poster over the wall to
hide the crack.
After we separated, Mike moved his stuff out, including the poster. This left me
with “The Wall”! He said he would come back and fix it, but when it still wasn’t done three
months later, I was faced with the task of either calling a repair man or fixing the wall myself.
Since money was tight, I figured I could do this myself. I asked for advice
from my friends and my dad showed me how to do it and said “You can do it!” So I got the
drywall, drywall nails, and tape and drywall mud.
Tearing down the old wall was fun and easy! I enjoyed the process of hammering and
watching large pieces crumble and fall. All the while grumbling about my husband’s
shortcomings as I smashed another piece of drywall and angrily imagined his head
on the other side of that hammer! Then I started laughing at myself for being so
angry at him and wasting so much mental energy on anger and for all the times I
complained about “The Wall”, instead of doing something about it. Kind of like my
marriage in the last year, I spent a lot of time complaining about the way things were but didn’t
want to take the steps to change anything. As I worked, I realized “The Wall” was
symbolic of my marriage. It looked OK on the surface, but underneath,
the foundation was cracked and crumbling.
So I’ve got the old drywall down and now I am a little concerned about what I do
next. What is my next step? Similar to the fear I have about the next steps I will
take in my life; how will I survive as a single mother, will I ever be able to quit thinking of
myself as Mrs. Mike Edmondson, will my kids adjust to their new life. What if I mess up
the wall and it looks worse then before. What if I screw up! I sought more advice about
the wall and my life from my friends and family and started the next process.
Repair, like recovery takes time and small steps.
Whether it is fixing a wall or fixing your life.
I measured twice, remembering my Dad’s advice, “Measure twice, cut once.”
Just like I though long and hard about separating from my Husband, think, measure and then
make the cut. My teenage son got involved helping me cut the drywall and hang it up.
Just like he has started helped me more around the house and with his little sister.
After the new pieces were hammered in, we added the mud, drywall tape and sanded and
sanded and sanded (that part is hard!). Throughout the whole process, I kept thinking
“I don’t know what I’m doing, I should have paid someone to come and fix this or
asked Dad to come over here to help me.” Something inside kept saying, “No, you
can do this!” I realized this project had become bigger then “The Wall”. I had
to prove to myself I could do this, I could fix “The Wall” and It would be OK. I
could fix my life and I would be OK! My kids would be OK. Mike would be OK.
After several hours and days “The Wall” is fixed. Fixing “The Wall” was not easy, it was
hard work, it was dirty and messy, but in a way the process was very therapeutic
and healing for me. It’s not a perfect wall and it’s not the same wall it was but it’
s OK! Just like me, just like my life! Going through a separation is hard work and dirty and
messy at times. But like the steps I took to fix “the wall” there are steps through this
process I must complete in order for my life to be “fixed”.
Next project: I’m handling a door and going back to college!
After 15 years of marriage my husband and I agreed to separate. As with any
breakup, there are always two sides to every story, which I won’t go into the
details today, that’s another story.
Through this process I’m finding the person I was and the roles
I had assumed have changed. I could no longer define myself as the wife of
Mr. Mike Edmondson, but I’m still me and the mother to our two beautiful children. I thank God
every day that even though our marriage didn’t work out, that these two kids were one of the
positive, good things from our union. In thinking about my new self, my thoughts take
me back to my past.
I was born in a small town in Kentucky, the 2nd youngest daughter of eight children of Albert
and Rosella. My parents instilled in me a strong work ethic, which included faith in
God, to respect and care for others less fortunate then us, and to treasure and
value your family. We were taught to respect other peoples property and to take care of
your own stuff. Mom would clean up Hotel rooms before we left, because she
believed you should leave things in better shape then when you came. “If you
break it fix it” was one of my Dad’s mottos. Dad always had his workbench full of projects he
was working on. And if he borrowed something from you he would often return it in better
shape then when you lent it to him. He was always letting us play with scrap pieces of wood,
and would let us practice sawing (with a small saw) and hammer nails into the scrap boards.
He would often show us how to do something and then let us go. Teaching us
NOT by doing it for us…but showing us how to do it and learn from our mistakes. He was and
is always encouraging us, “You can do it!” he always says. This leads me to “The Wall”.
I’d been asking my husband for the last year to fix the damaged drywall in our
rental home. We did not know when we moved into our house, but the dryer was vented
incorrectly into the wall, causing the drywall to buckle, and mildew. In my husband’s defense,
he tried to patch it and ended up hanging a large framed poster over the wall to
hide the crack.
After we separated, Mike moved his stuff out, including the poster. This left me
with “The Wall”! He said he would come back and fix it, but when it still wasn’t done three
months later, I was faced with the task of either calling a repair man or fixing the wall myself.
Since money was tight, I figured I could do this myself. I asked for advice
from my friends and my dad showed me how to do it and said “You can do it!” So I got the
drywall, drywall nails, and tape and drywall mud.
Tearing down the old wall was fun and easy! I enjoyed the process of hammering and
watching large pieces crumble and fall. All the while grumbling about my husband’s
shortcomings as I smashed another piece of drywall and angrily imagined his head
on the other side of that hammer! Then I started laughing at myself for being so
angry at him and wasting so much mental energy on anger and for all the times I
complained about “The Wall”, instead of doing something about it. Kind of like my
marriage in the last year, I spent a lot of time complaining about the way things were but didn’t
want to take the steps to change anything. As I worked, I realized “The Wall” was
symbolic of my marriage. It looked OK on the surface, but underneath,
the foundation was cracked and crumbling.
So I’ve got the old drywall down and now I am a little concerned about what I do
next. What is my next step? Similar to the fear I have about the next steps I will
take in my life; how will I survive as a single mother, will I ever be able to quit thinking of
myself as Mrs. Mike Edmondson, will my kids adjust to their new life. What if I mess up
the wall and it looks worse then before. What if I screw up! I sought more advice about
the wall and my life from my friends and family and started the next process.
Repair, like recovery takes time and small steps.
Whether it is fixing a wall or fixing your life.
I measured twice, remembering my Dad’s advice, “Measure twice, cut once.”
Just like I though long and hard about separating from my Husband, think, measure and then
make the cut. My teenage son got involved helping me cut the drywall and hang it up.
Just like he has started helped me more around the house and with his little sister.
After the new pieces were hammered in, we added the mud, drywall tape and sanded and
sanded and sanded (that part is hard!). Throughout the whole process, I kept thinking
“I don’t know what I’m doing, I should have paid someone to come and fix this or
asked Dad to come over here to help me.” Something inside kept saying, “No, you
can do this!” I realized this project had become bigger then “The Wall”. I had
to prove to myself I could do this, I could fix “The Wall” and It would be OK. I
could fix my life and I would be OK! My kids would be OK. Mike would be OK.
After several hours and days “The Wall” is fixed. Fixing “The Wall” was not easy, it was
hard work, it was dirty and messy, but in a way the process was very therapeutic
and healing for me. It’s not a perfect wall and it’s not the same wall it was but it’
s OK! Just like me, just like my life! Going through a separation is hard work and dirty and
messy at times. But like the steps I took to fix “the wall” there are steps through this
process I must complete in order for my life to be “fixed”.
Next project: I’m handling a door and going back to college!
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This is an Archive Article previously prepared as
a speech in May of 2000.
Since then I’ve hung the door, went
back to college, bought my own house
and reconciled with my husband.
More on that later…
a speech in May of 2000.
Since then I’ve hung the door, went
back to college, bought my own house
and reconciled with my husband.
More on that later…
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