Bethany Ann 41

I'm sitting in my van, in the Aldi parking lot. I ran off for groceries this afternoon, practically giddy with excitement about getting out of the house and being alone. Who am I even?

I don't even like to shop. 

The sun nearly peeked through the clouds on the way, and I saw a little patch of blue sky! It's been a rainy, cloudy, grey week in Ohio. 

I have never, ever wanted to homeschool. I've always said I would if I had to but if there was a Christian school available, my children would be there. Well, here I am homeschooling. Who am I even?

I'm a woman living in a strange world, I guess. The truth is, I'm still not really homeschooling -- my oldest daughter is doing most of the teaching. 

This girl reads constantly. She dug into her stack of school books like a hungry bear. 

I've never been the mom who cries much over first days of school or babies going from immobile to walking but last week my two oldest left for a measly weekend with the youth and I honest to goodness got tears in my eyes. Who am I even?

You get soft in your old age, that's what. I didn't used to freak out about heights or fast driving either...

We took the opportunity to take the three youngest on a little excursion of our own last weekend, and it was great fun. 

Chris and I joined the bikers on our rollerblades and our youngsters were quite amazed.

 We also checked out Big Muskie's Bucket. 

My oldest daughter was planning to graduate this year (her 11th year) but chose to quit school when we decided to homeschool. Since the news of that circulated, she has gotten at least half a dozen job offers -- everything from cleaning to accounting to old lady sitting. I watch her with her myriad of abilities and opportunities and try to wrap my mind around the fact that I'm the mom in this scenario. Who am I even?

I don't have an answer for that one. All I know is, I don't feel nearly as old as I always thought the moms in this scenario feel.

This girl was born to teach! I love to watch her. In the mean time, she's decided to (hopefully) finish her 12th year of school next year after all. I'm kinda glad if she gets a chance to revert back to school girl for a bit again. 

No, I don't know who I am these days. 

When I was five years old, I always signed my name Bethany Ann 5 -- there are still old coloring books and story books to prove it. 

I guess this is Bethany Ann 41.

After Five Months

 Hello. 

I'm not sure who I am anymore but someone with my name used to write in this space. I miss her.... and it.

A kind reader sent me an email the other day: "Hi Bethany! How are you? I haven't seen a blog post from you in awhile so I was concerned. Hope all is well!"

Her message touched me. 

All is well, I think you all deserve to know that. I am still here, in my little corner of the world -- living, breathing and healthy. Four weeks ago today our first foster placement was reunited with her mommy. It was a happy, happy day! My husband and oldest son are still working at a tire shop as manager and tire tech respectively. We've chosen, in this strange year of the great pandemic, to try our hand at homeschooling. Hopefully, we can manage to keep the four scholars lined up to slip back into their classrooms next year with no major damage done. 

 

That pretty much catches you up with my life!

Wait. What's that? You're pretty sure there's more? But what makes you... Oh. You don't think someone would just go silent for five months for no reason? You noticed that, huh? Well, yeah, about that...it's complicated, see. 

I'm not really sure how to explain my silence, honestly. I feel like the last two years have slowly but surely silenced me. I look back at all the blog posts I wrote over the past nine plus years and I'm not even sure who that person was? I feel like I hardly know her anymore. 

Without going into a lot of details or digging very deep, I will try to make some sense of what I am saying. 

In 2019, we opened our hearts to a young man who had joined our church. He lived with us part of the year, worked with Chris, was a big part of our lives. I couldn't write about any of that for many reasons -- mostly, out of respect for him. I still can't. 

Whether good or bad, 2019 sparked in me the feeling that it's better to just be quiet. Some things are just too hard to explain; some things others will never understand. The problem was, if I couldn't be authentic, I ended up with nothing to say at all! 

Then came 2020. 

The isolation of school shutting down and no church and no social life plus our first foster placement only magnified the feelings I already had. Foster care was just another thing that couldn't be shared freely on a blog and I finally just quit trying altogether. If writing was going to be so much work, it wasn't worth it. I've always written because the words came and I enjoyed it; I wasn't interested in manufacturing something that wasn't there. 

I still don't know what's to become of this little space. I've missed writing terribly. I've prayed about it often but haven't felt God giving me any clear answers. I never, ever wanted to be the blogger who wrote sporadically. I'd rather just shut the blog down and never write again! But, here I am, doing what I never wanted to do. 

I miss the community that nine plus years has created here. I miss the person I was who wrote all those things. God has recently given me a couple of writing opportunities that were quite unexpected and that have sparked a little of the old urge to write again. I am grateful. That little email I received from a reader also blew some air on the flame, so thank you again for that. 

I don't know what will become of About My Father's Business, we'll see. But I'm still here, alive and well, with a few more grey hair and a very different life these days. 

Cheerio!

I'll probably see you again, but who knows when.....