The Sky Is Still Blue

Calm beauty

Loss, sorrow, disappointment, numbness, drowning in grief, not fighting in the waves but under the sea, running around, getting no where, clutter and messes undone/ undealt with everywhere, what’s up, what’s down, what even do you feel.

Pulled up from the depth by a pause and a friend, splashing in water, shoes full of sand, the heat of the earth radiating up on the back watching clouds floating and changing, trees waving to and fro, children laughing, sun blinding bright, July humid heat.

Moment, thought, sight, clarity, feeling.

The sky is still blue and it is beautiful!

Magical dancing light

Just about 630pm on a warm spring evening in June. It has been a pretty good day so far, although the peaceful joy did not quite reach into my unrestful soul. I had arrived home from a friend’s house and debated on my self-soothing options. Finally I climbed out of the van and strolled through the garden noticing new life appearing from the earth.

Not really much to show yet, but exciting none the less as I await the day to eat the first meal of fresh tender green beans, or snack on sweet peas right out of the pod in the garden.

The colours of my flowers gave me a little splash of joy.

I walked into the house and faced another choice: do nothing, clean up, or go for a walk which would certainly help on my path to “feeling better ” again.

The first steps are always the hardest but I changed my clothes, tide up my sneakers, grabbed a water bottle and off I went.

Quiet except for the nature sounds. The lowering sun danced through the trees creating a magical stage of spotlit points and shadows, illuminating new shades of green in the fresh undergrowth. I felt like I had stepped into another deminsion and that fairies should be fluttering around through the trees,but only a yellow butterfly danced about, pretty and graceful.

I wished I could capture the beauty of the scene, but between the limit of the camera and the reality of the swarms of mosquitoes that drove me home, the spectacular scene will remain mainly in my memory the fodder of magical dreams when I lay down my head.

Six Months Into 2022 : chewed up & spit out, which way is up, now what?

window to the soul

I really did want to believe I am okay, that it’s all right I got this. After all I am a blogger and how in the world do you help others when you can’t even get yourself together. The reality is this year has been HARD! So many changes, so much loss, and just when you think you can adjust to a certain level of grief more comes.

Our family has lost to death this year two friends, my grandma, two uncles, two aunts, and a young person of someone I care deeply for even if we are no longer closely in touch. My world as I knew it has forever been changed and some of the pillars of stability have been lost.

I am struggling with who I am. I find it hard to find joy in some areas that were so simple and sure before. My school work holds my interest for mere seconds till I am irritated and fill my head with mind-numbing you tube videos of “getting it all together” instead. Keeping up with healthy choices daily is hit or miss. Many days I would like to just lay about in bed.

I am grieving! It is real and it is very difficult.

After all that has happened my aunt died yesterday (she is one of the two), it has only been two months since her husband passed away.

Is this unusual to have so many losses in such a short time, or is this what this season holds in life? I am after all getting older. Do I just have to “get used to it”?

The only sure thing about life is that death follows. When we are young we do not realize how fleeting time is. As we age it is like time speeds up, like a vapor in the wind, the day is gone.

I will keep seeking those moments of joy and ah in this life. Maybe the victories we choose to celebrate can be more minuscule, because life is full of tiny pleasures and time is too brief to wait for the big moments.

Running, rushing, chasing! Does it really matter? This is the moment we have got, right here, right now, and then it is gone, if we are lucky we have another moment.

I do believe in heaven, but I really like living on this beautiful earth. I morn the fact I have not always lived like I was alive but have walked along oblivious to the passing of time and the moments that have been lost. Never having enough time to spend with all the people that I love.

As I face saying another goodbye, I need to know how to live this moment, this minute, this day, never to come again. Grief comes in waves. I am usually so good at pretending everything is okay. Today, this moment. it is not, will the next be better.

Running off, responsibility awaits, busy with life, grief has to wait.

Goodbye Grandma, generations.

A Season of Sorrow

Spring melt

King Solomon who is described as have being the wisest man on earth tells us that “to everything there is a season, a time for everything under heaven.”

At the beginning of March my husband Tim and I had went away for the weekend to plan and regroup. The long range forecast was promising a ‘warmer’ month of March and we had hoped to jump into our work early after winter shutdown with fervor and renewed energy. Finishing off orders and being prepared for the spring rush.

As we were chatting on our drive home, I said to him that I felt a longing in my soul to STOP, stop striving, stop pushing, stop trying to do and be more. I felt a need to just be in the present, to do what needed to be done and to not worry about the ‘next’, the ‘more’, the ‘opinions’, the ‘drive for improvement’. I am not sure if this explains the sensation or not but I wanted to take the moment as it came and not rush through just move into my natural slow rhythm. Being content in just being.

Within minutes of getting home, I found out a friend that had helped me out of the kindness of her heart when I was in the season of small children, had died in her sleep. It felt like God had put an exclamation point onto my thoughts of slowing down. What is the point of rushing and striving towards; what death, transformation to heaven? God put many beautiful things in front of us to enjoy. How many have slipped by unnoticed because I was chasing something? Never making it over for that cup of coffee and a chat.

Still reeling from this shocking news, the kids told me that my friend had called and that I was to call her back. When we connected she gave me the news that a dear pastor and friend had passed on to heaven. My husband had known Pastor Claude from high-school when he was a truant officer and he was always a jovial fellow teasing my kids especially my son Fred who really loved him. He was someone one to counsel with in our early “growing years of marriage”. Never saw this coming. Sudden. Final.

I attended two funerals that week and my mind was set. Exclamation point boldly in place. Slow down, smell the roses. Be you, be “?” what, happy!?

Life went along, continued doing the daily grind. Working towards our goal of getting the mill running, the kids educated, was pleasant really, tucked away in my home with my family; existing.

On Sunday that pleasantness came to a screeching halt. Two phone messages, one from my mother, one from my aunt, hadn’t even listened to them and I knew that it could only be one thing. My grandma! My childhood friend and playmate, my spiritual giant, my gramm. Yes she had taken a turn for the worse, she was now “palliative”, was not expected to live much longer, so after two years of covid separation we could go in and see her. Honestly, anger and grief flooded my soul. My mind went taring and I knew I would be packing a bag and staying with her as long as she was on this earth. Life could wait.

I held my grandma’s hand. I read scriptures to her. I prayed with her. I had a cuppa (tea) and ‘told’ her the cookies were good and I was happy to be there having tea with her. The time drew near, I knew she was slipping away. I hoped that she heard me, I hoped I was a comfort to her, and I hoped that she knew how much I loved her. I hoped she would open her eyes even for a moment and see me and say “oh Candy your here, I love you” the way she would. I struggled in my mind with the lost time together, because of covid and the years of famine when just getting by was prioritized over time with grandma. Regret comes easy, but only when it is too late. She made it to heaven in time for supper 5:34 pm ‘a feast at a table in the presence of thine enemies’. I could almost hear my grandpa’s voice saying to her “what took you so long woman, been waiting for you, it’s about time we eat don’t ya think.”

After grandma passed on I spent a couple of days taking care of my oldest daughter at her house as she had taken ill. No matter how old or independent my children become when they are sick I need to care for them. I needed to be sure that she was going to recover and be okay. Funny how fear can grip you, even when you know that you know not to be afraid. She is healthy again and back to her life. I look forward to celebrating belatedly her birthday with her this weekend the Lord be willing.

What followed was two more weeks of shocking moments and forced quiet. As first Tim’s uncle passed away, then his aunt passed away in her sleep, and finally when life seemed to be starting to go back to normal and I was getting my feet back under me my uncle passed away.

We have had 6 deaths, 3 close, one extremely close and two friends in the month of March. As we were mourning we fought off a virus. And for myself it felt like I was treading water and tiring quickly. Praying for quiet peace away from pain.

We missed out on all of the celebrations of life of the the last four people, it has been surreal. There is a comfort to be found in these human rituals of life and death. A necessity of closer and an ending, a reminder of life being short. A renewal of the day at hand.

The beginning of the month of March, a month that is sometimes springlike, sometimes a miserable extra month of winter. My hope had been for spring, for new life, for flowers, the Son’s warmth warming deeply to my soul. Instead death’s winter grip seized me, shook me, shocked me, crushed me. Reminding me that we hustle and bustle, we plan and we fret, and it means nothing. There is a season for everything under heaven, and we do not have the control of the seasons, only God does. Striving comes to not, God blesses and God takes away, and we, we have this moment that we are in. But even as snow comes falling from the sky today and the atmosphere is dreary I will hold this day as long as it lasts to be forgotten on the morrow as memories fade more quickly as time goes flurrying by. Tomorrow not promised but if it manifests another day to delight in or mourn in until our tomorrows are eternal. Season after season till the end.

“Then young women will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.”