He and I have been married 36 years today. We were both 18 when we decided there was no other way to be than married to each other. We have been through tough times and wonderful times. We have learned to forgive and keep going on together.
We still have some big dreams we hope to make come true if the Father wills it so. Funny thing about dreams for us. We always ask him to close the door firmly if we are about to go through the wrong one.
We are a pretty good team for the most part. I’m still a terrible cow dog, though. I’m not scared at all, just slow and clumsy. Still we usually manage to get done what needs doing without having to do too much of the previously mentioned forgiving.
I love this man of mine. In ways I cannot even express. I sometimes can’t tell where I end and he begins. I have tried so hard to bind myself to him.
He is strong and tough. Sometimes the tough is hard to take. I haven’t had to slay a dragon in many years. His sword is sharp and arrow is true. So I don’t mind the tough.
I had a visit with my aunts yesterday. My mind is flooded with memories. I don’t have clear 8mm movie memories. I have Polariod memories. Fuzzy snapshots of moments in time. I am sitting in the back yard of the house I grew up in. It was a field of corn plowed by my Daddy once upon a time.
I asked again about the table. My grandmother, Arie Eola Brown Hamm, had my grandfather, Charley Richard Hamm, build her a table large enough so that even me and John Bullet could sit with the family for dinner.
She loved for everyone to dress up for Christmas dinner. I have a photo of my gorgeous father in a suit and tie for one Christmas. How beautiful life was then.
My mother recounted a note that Granny Arie was disappointed when Mother gave Daddy work clothes for Christmas instead of dress clothes. Perhaps that is the complete synopsis of my completely ambiguous mind.
My beloved LuLu and I are planning on a 20/20 Vision for 2020.
I know what dreams Rock and I are having. We have a vision for the future. We are ready to step out into a new life together. He will understand when he reads this. My focus and understanding of a particular part of my “style” has become clear only after our new dream appeared. And that new dream only appeared when I surrendered. To Him, to Rock, and to the Future. And also surrendered the past.
Mama isn’t ever coming home. I can stop waiting for her to return.
**wrote the above a while back. Don’t know why I didn’t post it.
But, today, I cried. After all this time, LuLu and I got around to a conversation that revealed she knew my Mama from working at the hospital. This conversation came about in a winding way as conversations do between two women who love each other like we do. She is my sister. In spirit rather than flesh. May I say amid all the current conflict that our skin tones are different and we have never cared one whit about the difference. But, I cried today just discovering that my sister knew my Mother. So, Mama does still come home sometimes.