Good Days

Saturday was a sad and beautiful day.  One of my best friends laid her mother to rest. Our pastor, the son-in-law, spoke beautifully of his mother-in-law.  Everything was perfect.

Afterward, I went to our daughter’s new house.  It’s an old house really, in the heart of Liberty. It oozes charm and is full of light.  I did a few things around the yard. 

Then, Sunday, the whole crew turned out to move them in to their new home.  Our son and his bride and Duchess came. My sister-friend from the time I was ten years old came. Our daughter’s dear co-worker and friend came. Rock, of course, was there with the cattle trailer. 

We loaded every vehicle and the trailer and headed to Liberty.  Unloaded, baked some store-bought lasagna, laughed and talked.  The Duchesses had a gingerbread house to work on thanks to a foreseeing daughter-in-love.  The ice box got thoroughly cleaned and both ovens used.  We had cheesecake to honor the memory of one of ours gone on before us. 

We brought a redone table and chairs for the dining room.  We need a lot more chairs! But the Duchesses had a spot to sit to eat and then later, to decorate the gingerbread houses. 

The centerpiece is from Mother.  It is her crocheted doily and her grandfather’s buttermilk pitcher.  I wanted our daughter to have something from the grandmother who adored her so much the very first time we gathered there. 

I might be as excited, if not more, about our girl’s house.  We spent all of Saturday before last cleaning it.  I realized later what is so endearing to me about it.  The windows in the front rooms, the oldest section, have windows like my old house.  Tall with sills close to the floor.  Reminds me of a house I have loved most of my life.  The old house still exists, empty and changed some, in a museum of structures.  The house still exists even more in my dreams and imagination.  Now, at our daughter’s, there is a structure I really can go to and visit with family or sit with a cup of coffee and feel the light.

After I had driven by the house before the final signing, I told my daughter I finally understood why for years, my heart had been saying: go home to Liberty.  Yes.  I foresee many more good days to come in a new old house in Liberty, Texas. 

Laugh

This was a great Monday.  Work was great.  The weekend past was great.  Everything is great!

Makes me nervous.  I keep my foot on the track to feel if a train is coming.   I have lived for so long dealing with serious issues, I know no other way.

And anyway, a train is coming.  A loved one has a devastating health diagnosis.  We will have to pull together and help her and each other through the coming days.  But, we, as a family, have one very critical strength.  Humor.  We have a sense of humor and laugh at the silliness of situations that arise from the very horrible things we face.

My mother’s visitation before her funeral sounded like a loud party.  We laughed and talked as if she was sitting with us.  She taught us to do that, as did her Mother.  Laugh.  Make a joke about something.  Crying and wailing get you only a headache and puffy eyes.

Yes.  Each of us cries privately and in small groups.  But, you won’t find us all together moping and weeping.  I remember us laughing at how pleased Mother would have been to know the size 12 dress fit that we bought to bury her in after she passed.  My aunt and cousin shared how they got too tickled and laughing when my aunt couldn’t get my very ill cousin off the floor after she fell in the middle of the night.  I can just see them wallowing like drunks and laughing trying to get her on her feet and back in her bed at the hospital.  Humor.  Why cry when you can laugh?

Laugh in the face of danger.  Laugh at the silly little things.  Laugh to keep the heart from bursting with pain.  Laughter.  His medicine.  He promised a merry heart doeth good like a medicine.  May we be blessed with laughter all the days to come.

 IMAG0823-1-1 (2)

 P.S.  He poked his head out the door while I was sitting on the porch.  You are supposed to be orchiding, not watching videos…….acting like the boss of me….who does he think he is!  He is the boss of me.  Thank goodness.  I need someone to take hold of my wild self and keep me in line.  He needs me to make him laugh at all the silly little things that come out of my mouth.  I am very good at making him laugh and shake his head many times just by laughing at myself.  Good medicine for each other.