Jilly Brandon

Breathing it all in, taking a deep breath and holding it. The scent is a heady combination of floral, dew saturated grass, and a slight breeze. It’s intoxicating to my senses.

All of it, from my white slightly paint chipped white rocking chair, to the cup of coffee and cream from an oversized tea cup, I take it in, and attempt to not miss a thing. My cup overflows with gratitude of the being in the here and now . The dizzying freshness of it all.

The sun coming from the east and falling with long sliding fingers across the lawn, the chirps and happy singing of numerous birdies. It’s almost too much . Tears of joy well up and spill down my cheeks.

“I’m overwhelmed by you.”(Jesus)

I’m sitting on my porch in slippers with yellow happy faces on them, and I think yes this is happy, I am happy.

It has taken a second to get here, and ever step and misstep has been worth it to the coming home .

The baby blue sky is dotted with clouds, and in the distance I can hear the activity of traffic heading off to work . The white scalloped fence frames the front yard, and it really is the ” white picket fence” of joy that hems me in.

It’s the beginning is summer, and the promise of what is to come . Please don’t let it pass by too quickly, I want to drink in every single moment, until I am drunk and satiated with the heady goodness of this place .

I refer to this as the settling, the coming down, the breathing out of it all.

How can it be that I am finally here. It is only with intention that I can grasp the long awaited peace of it all.

A group, or rather a flock of birds dance by, and it reminds me of my tribe, my prayer warriors who have been there supporting and loving me as I set out to immigrate to this country, these United States.

All of the paperwork, the mistakes, the glitches in the web sites, the waiting, and the sleepless nights have brought me to this moment, this here, this house, this home.

Thank you Jesus. Thats all I got , and this pretty much sums it up. I wouldn’t have made it to this point if you had not been there right by my side each step of the way .

The stone steps, each one a necessary building block to get to where I needed to go, but how often I stood teetering on the edge wondering if I had the courage to move forward. There were days when I didn’t. I stayed put and anxiously wondered how it would all work out.

I laid flat out on the stone pathway clutching the edges with white knuckles and refusing to lose my grip for fear of falling backwards into the abyss of what was before. The hurt, the sadness, the grief, the loss .

It’s been 9 years this year that you’ve been away in heaven Bianca, and 8 years since I’ve been divorced. Two important pieces of my journey that I never imagined would happen, and yet they are intrinsically wrapped around this life of mine . They are accepted as big pieces of my life.

I visited the grave of my daughter for the first time since immigrating here, and it was different. I knew it would be, and I think that is why I resisted taking the drive out to where the mountains meet the sky with Long’s Peek standing guard like a massive rock sentinel that will not be moved .

It took almost 2 months here before I had the courage to face the stone letters on your monument where we laid your precious body .

I miss you more now that I’m back here, if that could be possible .

It’s true, all of it. I think there is this thing that happens with grief and sadness that can be tucked away out of sight and mind and your mind plays tricks that says, ” your loved one is not really gone,” and like a drowning person clings to the life raft, you believe it. Like soft rain falling to the earth, the missing of your people is like that .

Sometimes there are thunderstorms, and hail and lightning, and mighty wind, and that kind of violent hurt takes your breath away, but mostly it’s the gentle rain of grief.

I am happy and I am sad, and I am alive. This is to be celebrated.

Here with my two sons, and their girlfriends, and the cats, and the dogs, and the grilling out, and outdoor games, and the laughter, I have found that I can be content in all of this .

Contentment is a state of mind. I think there is this guy in the Bible Paul, who talks about this . ” in all circumstances I have learned to be content.” I’m paraphrasing , but this is a good sentence, and a way to do life.

The enormous privilege of having a seat at the table , a good book, with an appropriate title, ” A Place to belong” by Lisa Steven , just reminded me that while I’m enjoying the status of being an immigrant, we are all immigrants in this world .

We all came from somewhere. Our ancestors may be from Europe, Africa, The Orient, North and South America , The Middle East and elsewhere, but somehow being in this new position of being granted permission to live here, has given me a whole new appreciation for others that are trying so hard to leave their Mother countries to find their forever places.

To find their joy, their happiness, their newest best .

Thank you to all of you that prayed me through. Your prayers are oxygen .

Morning status… gratitude .