This post is linked up with Lisa-Jo Baker's Five Minute Friday.

Tree

Ready, get set, GO!

When I think of a tree, I always think of that little acorn. 

Such a lowly beginning, having been abandoned by its mother, thrown to the ground, left to survive, thrive, or die all alone, one little tiny acorn.  But through the years, the acorn sheds it’s skin, silently realizing it’s true potential.  The potential to become a great oak tree.  

And so it struggles, sometimes for several years before it finally starts to take root, growing, struggling, finally finding a path through the debris of fallen life, tentatively sending down it’s dreams into the ether of the netherworld, stretching to find that one tiny little nugget of nourishment.  Hoping , waiting  in expectation for that one second when it’s legs reach a perfect spot, created just for it, and then Eureka!  It is done, it has found it’s heart.  The heart of the great tree that is to come, made up of many things that died before it, only left for it alone to nourish the great expanse of canopy that opens to the heavens.  

It is a tree.

So, who am I?

That seems to be the burning question for most if not all widows.  But really, it's an easy question to answer.  I am me.  I haven't changed, but my circumstances have changed, alot.  So how will I react to them?  I will have to change eventually to fit my new circumstances. So what kinds of changes will I make?

 I also feel like half of me is gone.  But really, I'm still a whole person, I just don't know how to react like a whole person anymore.  After years of marriage, we learn to act as half of a whole.  Now I have to relearn how to act as a whole.  It's going to be hard, granted.  And probably at times not at all fun.  In fact, probably most times just downright sad.  But learn it I will, if I want to have any chance at actually living the rest of my life.

I feel also that I've lost most of my love.  But on further reflection, I realize that isn't true.  If anything, my love has grown.  I still love my children, my grandchildren, and the rest of my family, and I love my friends.  And my love for my husband has grown, even though he's not here.  But it's a different type of love now.  It's a love filled with gratitude.  Gratitude because without him, I wouldn't be who I am right now.  He did help shape the person I am.  How could he not?  I lived with him for 27 years, of course he shaped me.  But, as a whole person, I realize that I had to allow that shaping to happen.  I could have refused at any time, but loving him, I allowed the changes to happen in my life, and thank goodness I did.  So, now, the question becomes:  what do I do with this love?

I need to move on.  But do I want to move on.  Therein lies the real question.  What do I want?  I want to be happy.  I want to live a full life.  I don't know right now if that is possible, but I'm going to give it all I've got and see what happens.

Until next time.

The Ugly Truth

I know I haven't posted in a long while.  It's been a tiring journey from the last post to here.  I lost my husband two and a half months ago.  I never really gave much thought to being a widow.  Who does?

I'm doing ok, I think.  I'm kind of waiting for the 'stages' of grief to hit.  I've been numb, so that's kind of a stage.  I've never gone through denial, although for a few weeks I kept thinking surely I would wake up and find that this was all a bad dream, and Tom would be in the living room, sitting in his chair, snoring, lol.  I used to giggle at his snoring, and sometimes, I complained about it, loudly.  But yes, he did snore.  I miss that noise now. I've not had any anger.  I wonder alot about that.  How could I possibly be angry with this man who taught me how to love?  How could I be angry at him when he fought with every single breath to stay with me?  How could I possibly be angry at a man who made my life complete, and happy, and full, and safe?

He was sick for a little over a year, really sick that is.  It was an infection that finally got him.  I had gone from living with the love of my life, to living with that same man, but he was different.  Gone was the strong, tall, gorgeous drink of water that I had loved, and in his place, was a gentle, loving, much older man, weak, but loving me with every inch of his being.  And I loved him back.  The weaker and older he got, the more our love grew.  Who knew it would be that way?

So, now I'm a widow.  I remember clearly thinking the day of his funeral that I was putting on my 'widow's weeds'.  That hasn't changed, and it won't.  Everything is widow's weeds.  I wear my widowhood now daily.  And I wonder what I am supposed to be doing as a widow.  At this point, I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing.  People tell me to be patient, but life has shown me how precocious it is, and I'm not sure patience is something that is within me at this point.  My father would say patience is a virtue, but I'm sure I have none of it.  So forward I go, every day a new experience, every day a surprise.  Every day dreaded as I go into the night before, knowing I will sleep without that snore waking me.  And when I wake in the morning, that split second before being fully awake, my mind listens.  I'm listening for his breathing.  It's not there.

Until next time.

Torn both ways

Ok.  This time of year causes a serious dilemma for me.  I'm torn two ways.  There is still a ton of work to be done outside, gardening, cleaning, weeding, harvesting, replanting, laying mulch, on and on and on.  BUT my mind is already ahead of me to the time when I can't go outside as much and I'm already longing to spend time knitting, crocheting, sewing, working on leather, cross stitch, (not even mentioning cleaning, because that's an ongoing chore), canning, drying (which, of course, goes on all year).

For instance, I bought a cross stitch book a few years back, planning on making each of our immediate family members a Christmas stocking.  Now, I'm already looking at my cross stitch bag (I keep different crafts in different bags, so if I want to work on a specific thing, I just grab that bag), and thinking, gosh, I wish I had time right now to sit and get to working on those stockings again.  Will I get them done before Christmas this year?  Probably not.  Then there is the yarn I bought for wedding shawls for each of my granddaughters. Do I have time right now?  No.  Then I have the kitchen aprons cut out and not yet sewn.  And the kitchen towels I'm knitting and crocheting.  And the ladies facial towels I'm knitting and crocheting, and the mini scrap books I'm working on (five right now).  And the large scrapbooks I've been working for my kids (WAY behind on those, like years).  On and on and on it goes.

On top of all of that, there is finding the time for sitting with the Lord and just being in His presence.  A friend told me yesterday that everything I do during the day can be considered prayer.  I guess I probably knew that already, but had kind of forgotten it in the day to day grind.

Do you also have this problem?  What are you working on right now, and what do you have sitting, calling to you, waiting on you?  Let me know, I'm interested in how others deal with the anxiety that comes along this time of year.

Until next time.

Proverbs 31 Grandma?

I never knew what real love was until I became a Grandma.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love my husband very much.  I have tried very hard to be a Proverbs 31 wife.  And I love my children more than I could ever put into words.  But being a Grandma?  It's the best.  Grandma's aren't quite so worried about how the kids look.  Nor do we worry about a little dirt.  And in fact, sometimes we think our grandkids look really cute with some dirt showing!

Grandkids love us unconditionally, and completely, and they aren't at all afraid to show that love.  

I have seven grandchildren.  I never even dreamed that I could be so blessed.  They absolutely light up our lives.  They give us a reason to go on.  A reason to still make that bed every morning, clean house, do the laundry, and make sure there are 'goodies' around for them.

I spent part of the summer tutoring two of my granddaughters in Grammar, English, Reading, and Math, as well as religion.  What an incredible time it was.  As a Grandma, I had all the time in the world, with nothing else I had to go do.  I was able to give them undivided attention, for four hours a day, we did nothing else.  It was incredible to me to watch them learn.  I could actually see their little minds working as they silently sat at their tables, sometimes pencil ends in their mouths, thinking and figuring things out.  It did my heart good.

We hear so much bad news today about the youth.  I'm very blessed that all of mine are growing into such good children, and hopefully will grow into God fearing adults.  And they just soak up religion, good little sponges that they are.

It's a great thing....being a Grandma.  What a blessing

Fall Garden

So tomorrow we get our fall garden completed.  I think we are planting carrots, beets, lettuce, spinach, cabbage, broccoli, brussel sprouts, onions, celery, garlic, and more beans (just on the off chance that it stays warm a little longer than usual).  Also peas, we didn't get any this spring at all.

It was such an awful summer, weeks of over 100 degree temps with no rain at all in Southern Kansas.  We were in the extreme drought area, and our garden showed it.  We watered, but anybody who gardens knows that watering with treated water is never as good as rain.

I am going to try to garden in thick tree mulch next year.  I watched a film about the Back to Eden garden.  I'm not sure it will work in this part of the country, but I'm going to give it a try.

School has started here, the grandkids are all busy with school, and homework.  I have found tons of great ideas online to help out this year with organization, and am very excited about getting them started.

Until next time.

Hoping for rain

We are hoping and praying for rain.  Literally.  It has rained around us all day today.  This evening we finally got enough to wet the ground.  Not completely, but enough to settle the dust for an hour or so.  We want rain, we need rain.  I seriously went outside and prayed and prayed, asking for some of the wet stuff.  We've lost so much this summer.  We lost alot last summer too, but this is the worst summer I've ever lived through for gardening.

 Although we don't have any animals, I know people who have had to start selling off due to the drought.  Very sad circumstances.  And old timers who say they've never seen anything like this, other than the dust bowl.

  Of course, people took precautions so we wouldn't lose so much top soil again.  But that was decades ago.  People forgot.  Trees have been destroyed.  A dust bowl could easily happen again.

Wells in our parts are going dry.

We need rain.  Badly.

Until next time.