Thursday, January 26, 2017
Thirty years ago, I was a senior in high school. In January, I caught a horrible cold. For about three months, I was sick. My breathing was labored due to living in a house with smokers and a town with wood smoke in the air. I struggled those days and faced the fact that my dream of going to Oregon or Washington for school was completely out of the question. I had no money. I settled for in state as far as I could go which meant Billings.
What does this have to do with anything? I am not sure. I might just be rambling. My classmates are beginning to work on our reunion. A few of them are excited and chatting about past memories and making new ones. I sit and watch the facebook feeds wondering what my part is in all of this. I don't want to go. I want to want to go, but I have feelings of dread.
The dread doesn't at all stem from seeing any of my classmates. They are amazing people. It comes from facing thirty years. I dread one more activity that takes me away from home and the gardens. I dread yet another trip to Libby after the ten I took last year with the death of my dad. I am already planning three trips up there as it is. I dread not being the me I imagined I would be at this age. I love my life, but …. I dread what to do with my daughter if my husband can't come. And yes, I dread another trip of being slapped with the reality that I can't hang out with Dad. I miss him a ton.
Yet, I wonder would I regret not going. I just don't know.
Thursday, January 12, 2017
A couple of days, I took my lantern out in the yard. We have a lot of snow this year and I wanted to have a little fun with that as the backdrop. Besides, snow for calendar pictures for the months of December, January, and February in my neck of the woods is a must. I am sure a couple of my neighbors must look out their window and wonder about me with some of my little projects. I actually smile when I think of that. Let the wonder, wondering is good for the soul. I enjoyed my little outing until my fingers began to tingle from the cold.
All about Snow
Oh, I forgot to mention that my milk can also grabbed my attention. I know my theme is lanterns, but I had to take a picture of it. Let me know which is your favorite picture.
Thursday, January 5, 2017
Hope of spring soon to follow
Dad missed tenfold
Dad and I called each other to talk about our plans for the spring planting season every year. As I looked through my catalogs, I knew he did the same back home. We chatted about the changes we wanted to make in the vegetable garden. He bragged about his adventures planned in the greenhouse. I listened jealously wishing for my own house, yet knowing I didn't have time for that added work. This year I will have to have one-sided discussions. People will drive by my backyard wondering about the middle-aged woman talking to herself as she digs, pulls weeds, waters, and plants. I don't care, let them wonder how I went crazyJ I will be asking Dad to pray for my garden.
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
My morning started out like any other. I traipsed into my writing room to do my work before the house woke up to distract me. Once that was finished, I puttered around the house, cleaning here and there. My equilibrium tanked. I felt good, but dizziness assaulted me and my stomach felt like I was on a rollercoaster. I rested between activities and during activities. Madelle came into the kitchen at one point looking like I felt. We canceled out movie outing with the neighbor kids.
Not an hour after we canceled, Jerry received a text. A couple struggling with mental illness contacted us. They needed to talk. In two hours they wanted to stop by the house. I would have been at the movies. Coincidence? I think not. They say God doesn't make us sick. I chuckled. He might not have made Madelle and I feeling sick, but he used our staying home as an opportunity to put in play His plan.
As the four of us talked, I sat thinking. Jerry talked about his journey of PTSD, a very depressing subject. Being that I am working on the theme of "Beacons of Light," I tried to compare my husband to a beacon of light in the area of mental illness. Now, he is definitely a beacon of light to me, but as they compared stories of their struggle, I didn't perceive light shining through my husband. I saw his sadness and struggle. I was reminded of the dark days we mucked our way through as this dear couple has been doing. I saw all the days ahead of the four of us because mental illness is a constant struggle. We also talked about the work. How we brought light back into our family through faith, volunteer time, and other steps to help with a better life.
After the couple left, Jerry busied himself with making homemade pasta. He finds light in keeping busy when he is faced with his PTSD or finds himself slipping into that world. I read a text sent to me. A dear friend was called to his father's side. The old gentleman is said not to last the rest of the week. I asked how I can help. My friend asked me to check in with their young adult children. We had two of them over for dinner. Sitting around the dinner table for the second time with guests I hadn't anticipated, I was grateful for the opportunity to help such dear "kids." Waiting for the inevitable is tough. But we laughed and reminisced. We "broke bread" together.
I would love to say that we moved mountains yesterday. I would love to say that a beacon of light pulsed above our dining room table, bringing happiness, joy, and peace. Instead, I went to bed with a heavy heart. The sadness and suffering of our loved ones is hard. Since my dad passed away four and a half short months ago, these events bring his loss to the forefront. Though a little down in mood, I envisioned the light in all of our eyes. Light filtered through the laughter at dinner. Hope lights the way in tasks we can do to help each other on our journeys. The little pinpricks of light lead to the beacon.