It's 3 AM and I'm still awake. I don't think I've slept yet. So my hope is to put my thoughts down so I can sleep!
I've decided that when I can't come up with anything else to blog about, I'll start posting stories about my past. Memories that are pleasant and make me smile, though also make me sad with nostalgia.
Tonight as we lay in bed to go to sleep, I reminded Boom that there is a picture wedged between our bed and the wall that the kids knocked down several weeks ago. The bed is very heavy (homemade) and can't be moved away from the wall very easily.
He asked me which picture it was, and I told him the one with me with long hair and him in a white tee, and he said, "Oh, the church picture." I knew he'd remember, but it was still nice to hear him say it.
The picture was taken for a directory for the small church we attended while living in Pittsburgh. I remembered the day and the picture being taken. Boom remembered the room we were in. And I started remembering our short time at probably our most favorite, or close to, churches we've ever been in together.
The year was 1996. I had moved to Pittsburgh to go to Pittsburgh Technical Institute for Graphic Design. The term started in October (it went all year so the terms were different from 4-year schools) and I had moved in with my then-best-friend in a little apartment up on Mt. Washington, right next to the old South Hills High School.
My parents and I looked in the phone book under a certain denomination that was similar to the church I grew up in, and we found one that looked promising (only God could have planned it so that the first church I tried I stuck with for 2 years!) What we didn't know is how much work I'd spend just getting there and back.
I didn't have a car until just before I started dating Boom (my parents leased a Saturn for me at that time.) So I had to either walk, ride a bus, or take the "T" where ever I wanted to go.
For church, that meant all three. After I got ready I walked down to the "T" station, and since I knew what time the "T" came, I didn't wait too long. Then I got off at Gateway Center and walked across the street to wait for the bus.
I usually waited around 15 to 20 minutes for the bus. I don't even remember how I did this in the winter! Things seemed so much more milder back then!
Anyway, the only problem I ever had with the bus was when this old Greek Orthodox guy started taking the same bus from the same stop. The first time I met him he was talking to me and wouldn't stop. Casual questions. Not your run-of-the-mill stranger questions. And when a car pulled up to the curb to ask for directions, he literally held my arm very tightly and pulled me back as I tried to talk to the couple. So when I got on the bus, I should have know better, but we all have to learn sometime.
I took a seat next to the window; I loved looking out windows. And wouldn't you know it, the old guy sat next to me. Well, before long even though I kept trying to avoid his talking, he placed a hand on my thigh. This of course made me EXTREMELY uncomfortable, but short of embarrassing myself I didn't know what to do. Thank goodness his stop was not far off, and he got off at a Greek Orthodox church with his Greek Orthodox newspaper, and his Greek Orthodox accent. I hoped that would be the last I'd see of him, but alas, I eventually had to stand on the opposite side of the bus stop until I saw the bus coming, and I never took a window seat again.
When the bus arrived at the street the church was on, another 20 minutes later, I walked about a block to the entrance. I loved walking in because I was enveloped by handshakes and hugs. I loved the friendliness of our church. But more, I loved the worship.
I know it's not everyone's style. And I understand why. But I love the charismatic, Pentecostal type worship that goes on and on. I was so ready for it after a week of being with no Christians at all. (let's face it, when I tried to join a Christian group at school, and the leader of the group was wearing a "Big Johnson" tee-shirt, I knew I wasn't going to fit it...) I opened up and poured out my emotions to God.
And then the sermon. I loved hearing our pastor speak. He was animated, unlike most of the pastors I've enjoyed since. You couldn't fall asleep during his sermon, because you were too interested and he kept his voice alive the whole time. And he used object lesson, the first time I'd seen so many. I love them! The two I remember most are the "priorities in a jar" one, with rocks, pebbles, sand and water fitting into a jar better when you put the big things in your life in first, and when he put a tent of sorts up for one of the Jewish holidays (don't remember which one, I'd have to ask my dad.)
That tent is what makes me want to celebrate the traditional Jewish holidays with my own family someday. At any rate, he always had good sermons and I always went home thinking about them the rest of the day.
After church I didn't get to stay to mingle. I didn't have a watch and I needed to catch the next bus, whenever it came.
Usually that meant later than sooner. If church let out a little early, I'd catch the one bus. But if it let out later, then I'd wait a half hour or more for the next one. It was a very lonely wait. Not a big bus stop. Just a small spot on a normal neighborhood sidewalk on the North Side. (looking back it was odd that I attended a church on the North Side. It was known that many blacks lived in the North Side, and many didn't like white people being there. It also was known as the not-so-good neighborhood of Pittsburgh. I never had a single problem while there...)
On the bus ride back, it was even longer because of a different route. On the way TO church, we went right past the Three Rivers Stadium (oh! how I hated to see that place go!) I saw all the people with their Terrible Towels on game day, and I wanted to be them just once, someday...
On the bus ride back, I saw the homeless on their benches or pushing their grocery cart through town with bare feet. It was depressing in downtown on Sundays. The only places open were McDonald's and Subway type places. It was like a ghost town.
Most Sunday's I went straight home. But one Sunday I met a girl at church from my school, a most unlikely place for meeting this particular girl. She had been waiting for someone, but they never showed, so she rode home with me. We ate at Subway and talked about God a little. I hardly knew her, but here I was eating with her at Subway and talking about church! At home, she lit up a clove cigarette, and I thought that if I ever were the type to smoke, that would be what I'd smoke, since it smelled so good...like some better pipe smoke I've smelled.
But most days I went into the Wood Street "T" station and waited another 15-20 minutes before a "T' came to take me home.
At home I always felt down. My best friend had only attended church with me the first time I went. She wanted to be a Christian, but wasn't ready, she said. She wanted to find a good Christian guy to date, she joined Bible Quizzing. But she wouldn't go to church. So I was alone. I had no one to discuss the sermon with...the thoughts that were in my head. I felt like the only Christian on earth in those moments.
I'd usually relax on the afternoons, enjoying the sunlight coming into our apartment. Oh!, how I miss that! I loved the way the sun poured in and the view of the neighborhood we could see from our back porch on our second story apartment. I miss it terribly at times! I've felt the urge when we have visited the city to drive to that apartment and knock and beg to walk upstairs just one more time. But I don't think I'd handle it too well. I'm tearing up just thinking about it...I miss it...
But this whole routine changed on my first "date" with Boom. I invited him to go with me to Easter Sunday at church if he wanted, since I wouldn't date a non-Christian, and even though he believed in God, I knew he didn't live it and I wanted to show him that church wasn't what he thought it was.
By this time I had the car, so I picked Boom up from the South Side where he lived, and he saw me in a dress for the first time and gave me an Easter basket, my first since I was a little girl. (The large chocolate bunny melted by the time we came out of church :) ) We drove to the church for the first time sine I started attending there, and wouldn't you know it? It was only 10 minutes away! TEN minutes from my house to the church! I had been going there for almost 2 years and had taken an hour or more each way every Sunday...and I was only 10 minutes away by car...
After Boom started attending with me, we got more involved. We joined a couples' small group, and I started teaching a class for 3 and 4 year olds. We even participated in a huge Christmas production called "The Gospel According to Scrooge." It was the best put-together and hardest worked-after play/musical I've seen or been a part of in a church. We put it on for 3 nights in a row two weeks in a row. It was 2 hours and had an intermission. Boom played Marley, and I had a small part because I'm kind of shy :)
It was amazing the difference between the church that I only attended on Sundays because I was a slave to the Public Transportation system, and the church that I attended as much as I was able with a car. I had never even seen the other rooms in the church before. Never met all the other people before. I finally felt at home!
And I still miss it. When we moved the next time we went to the church was a year later when we were in Pittsburgh for a wedding. Our one couple friend had a one-year-old by then, and in general life had gone one without us. It was very hard for me. I hadn't wanted to leave, and in many ways I still miss it so very much that it hurts.
I don't understand why God calls us to certain places sometimes. Why He takes what we hold dear and allows it to be removed from our lives. People lose children, spouses, houses, and more. I lost Pittsburgh.
I know that it's not where God wants me, at least not right now, and maybe not ever. But it will forever be a place that exists in my heart with fondness. There aren't too many bad memories of that city. Most were the most happiest moments of my life. I can still feel them, smell them...though I can't always see them so clearly anymore. Most of all, the pain of leaving is still so strong that I wonder if something is wrong with me.
I am sitting her with tears streaming down my face and my heart aching for things that can never be. And why??? Why can't I find the same happiness here? Why haven't I had fun times and good friends here? Why don't the moments with my children, who are GREAT kids, compare to the moments I had there?
I want to be happy with what I have. I feel ashamed to think that my better memories are before I got married and had kids. What does that say about me? What kind of wife and mother am I?
I sincerely hope it is simply because I was carefree then. Without bills to pay, without diapers to change, without houses to repair and friends to make. I want to make good memories with my family. I try hard to do so. I struggle so much with the feelings of discontentedness. I don't want my family to think that they make me sad...
Which is one reason I practice Attachment Parenting and plan to unschool. I want to make good memories and be connected to my children and for them to remember good things growing up. I enjoy spending time with Boom vs. time without him. I don't feel the need to "get away" from my family....just the need to "get away" in general. I can't wait until vacations are easier with the kids. When they are old enough to enjoy traveling and seeing museums and go hiking without being carried or pushed in a stroller.
And one thing is for sure. They will know Pittsburgh. They will walk on the bridges their parents confessed their love on. They will eat in the places we ate. They will look upon the city that conceived them. For without Pittsburgh, they wouldn't be.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment