The day is damp, and the air hangs heavy. I can feel the moisture on my skin, and the fir trees are laden down with a bounty of pine cones.
Droplets of water cling to the branches, and the street is quiet still…., The big work equipment has not started up their engines yet, cutting the silence, and creating havoc with my headachy head.
This air, after a thunderstorm, often appears to bring the unwanted gift of a migraine of two to visit. Ugh… I’d most rather have a visit from practically anything else.
Im wrapped up in my daughter Bianca’s comforter, and her satin blanket , like a tinfoil leftover burrito, from the day before.
I’m super cozy, and sleeping with her covers, brings comfort to me. To think they covered her up, and now me, let’s me feel closer to my dearly departed little girl.
My Mum has mentioned that this spring , and summer have seen a great deal of rain. The plants, and flowers are full, and have grown tall with all of the water falling down upon them.
The grass is a rich, lively emerald green, and throughout the expanse of the yard, it’s deep shade is reminiscent of Ireland.
Iv’e never been there, but am supposing that it’s not called “The Emerald Isle,” because it’s filled with emeralds, but because of it’s wonderful lush landscape.
For me, it’s been a summer of readjustments. I have been learning a great deal about being content wherever I am.
I have let go of the reins on my life in such a way, that it feels as if I’m involved in a chariot race alongside “Ben Hur.” Only he is white knuckling it with the ropes, and I’m flying around in a strangled kaos ,being tossed all over the chariot.
I’m staying with my Mum, in her house. I’m her guest here, and it has been dawning on me of late, that I need to remember this.
It is interesting to me, that when I, an adult child, moves back home, I am finding myself reverting back to becoming a small girl at the age of 10.
This is often perplexing to me, because I’m 41 years older than that, but when my present bedroom, is the same one that used to be my brother’s ..,well…I just am a little girl again.
In some ways I really like this, because I feel strangely safe and protected again. In other ways…. well let’s just say, I find that Im not too old to throw a good ole fashioned tantrum, or a hissy fit of monumental proportions.
Believe it or not, my Mother has it on film of me throwing a complete tantrum that would rival any two year not getting what they wanted at the check out counter in the grocery store.
I still want my own way.. imagine that?!.. it’s quite terrifying to recognize this in myself. Why do I need to be right?
A dear, exceptionally wise friend, who knows who she is, asked me that point blank question.” Do you need to be right?”
I was bewildered, and then flustered. Well apparently I thought out loud that I kinda do! I spoke to myself, with nobody within earshot which potentially someone does when they might be beginning to be “Cookoo for Cocoa Puffs!”
I figured that if I was aware that I was losing it, then maybe I was more lucid than I thought? Oh dear, I fear as if I’m beginning to ramble….
Being right, I’m finding out is not always necessary, in fact it can be downright annoying… and incidentally.. not as easy to live with.
Self realization is beginning to burst through the thick ice of my being, and I’m learning to let go of those things that I used to hold tightly in my grasp, thinking with a fool’s heart, that I had some overt and superior control over what happened to me in my life.
Guess what? Little known secret… are you ready? When you don’t feel the consuming need to be right, you can forgive other people for their shortcomings easier, and therein, also be forgiving of my own flaws.
This has been a news flash for me. I have realized that I have issues to work on too. Imagine my surprise. I was going for perfection, but seem to fallen quite short of the mark.
Sainthood is for Peter and Joan of Arc, amongst many others. Letting down of the burden of “being right” has strangely enlightened me in a way, so that, I’m becomming more aware of how people need to be loved, rather than how I think that they need to be loved.
I’m not sure if I’m making any sense here… like at all.
A few weeks ago, something extraordinary happened within our family. It happened to my son Logan. It has affected all of us in a monumental way, but I still am trying to wrap my imperfect thoughts around the occurrence.
It is going to take some unraveling of the situation, and some time to put together all of the fantastical pieces that led to this supernatural experience.
To say, that it was an incredible happening, and blessing, cannot be something, that I can actually put into words. I think that all of us that had the fortune to have been chosen for this life encounter, still need to try and excavate our thoughts , and sort through them.
When I felt the exceptional presence of the Holy of Holies right beside me, it simple blew my ever loving mind.
Being with my Mum, in her home, praying with her, and trusting God with our very lives, has been one the richest experiences of my entire existence , especially during these last few weeks.
She has always tried to be loving, supportive, and accepting to me, but as I have seen things changing in her, I have not always shown her the same courtesy or compassion.
I am sorry for this…I think that I’ve been fearful, but have transferred my fear onto her, and I did not need to do that. Fear makes me perform all kinds of crazy antics.
I am going to try to let fear go live some place else now… and good riddance!
When God shows up in a personal way in your life, it knocks you clean off your feet, and words are few, but the wonder is much.
I think I really really like the wonder of it all. Even when it hurts so bad that you just might want to die, and you are potentially surrounded by disease, and death, there is that candle burning in the darkest and rankest cave of your soul, that will not be extinguished, no matter who tries to burn it out.
Hope can soar within me, as long as I still have air left to breathe, and when I fly up to 37,000 feet in an airplane, and I see the billowing clouds outside my window, I remember just how tiny I am, but also at the same time, I am reminded that God still sees some significance for me, and He still has plans for me… that’s why I’m still here.
I have bourne witness to a miracle in our lives, my families’ lives. It’s the best thing ever, and so unexpected. I also have this strong nudging that He is not finished with the miracles yet… so I’m gonna sit back, and say “bring it Lord Jesus…”
It is about the healing of a trapped mind, and a body that was being held by something outside it itself. The story is almost unbelievable and had it not happened to me, and us, but that will come later….I promise…now don’t rush me, or I shall become discombobulated!
I feel the sudden urge to sing “super -kala-fragilistic-expealla-doshes..” from “Mary Poppins.” I know I did not even come that close to spelling it correctly, so don’t hate me…cuz that word just makes me happy, as does that entire movie by the way!
I had to insert these two birdies who go by “Floteesia” and “Swanda,” Just because they make me smile.. quite a bit.