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.

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 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.

Train Wreck

Today, I feel like a train wreck.

I didn’t do what I had planned and prepared to do on Saturday.  Instead, I went with him to the woods.  Twofold.  Dust, pollen, jarring ride made for physical problems.  Failure to achieve my Saturday goals made for mental stress.  Stop watching the water already gone under the bridge.

Sunday was bittersweet.  Yes. I had time with my family.  But, the guest of honor was not able to join us due to her illness.  We shed tears.   But, we laughed as well.  We scheduled another event.

Caught up in our own busy-ness, we let weeks turn to months and then to years.  Let us put away regret and remorse.  Let us stand hand in hand laughing and loving as we go.  We have some tough bridges to cross together.

Today was just Monday.  Too many demands on my mind and my time.  The day started badly.  It slowly improved.  Now, I am simply tired.   The evening is bridging my day into night.

Upon my arrival home, he had fresh coffee made.  We had a bite of supper and I washed up the dishes.  Then he sent me to get a bath.  “You have orchiding to do.”

So here I am.  Tapping away.  Yawning.  Trying to string together words that might make sense.  Like boxcars on a track.  One word after another.  Trying not to derail as I cross over the trestle bridging into sleep.

Sleep is no relief.  I either don’t sleep well or my dreams are too vivid.  Oh, well.  I don’t think this post is  chugging along well.  Maybe I should have written about the turtle instead.

 

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Dreams

I love the night. When I am outside sitting around a fire with friends.  Or when I am walking down a moonlit sandy road. Or sitting on the porch listening to the night sounds.

I don’t love the night when my dreams become tumultuous and full of drama. I did not post last evening.  I went to bed very early again.  I am battling the symptoms of the illness that plagues me.  My dreams did not allow peaceful rest.

I have always dreamed in full action Technicolor and remember much of details and moods. Some dreams I never forget.  They live in my memory as if they really happened.  Sometimes a dream mood will stay with me after I awake. I have had dream moods stay with me for days.

I have learned to redirect dreams even while sleeping through them. I will awaken remembering how a dream was deteriorating into a nightmare and I had changed the scenes to avoid disaster.  I don’t always have success, though.  Last night, the dream deteriorated into chaos and panic.  I woke myself to get out of the hysterical state I had entered.

I wake up still tired many mornings. Some would avoid sleep to avoid such problems.  There is a good side to this.  Many of my dreams are better than a movie.  Adventure, beautiful scenery, even good drama.  I love when I have those good dreams.

Recently, I had a clear and vivid dream of his mother. She has been gone from us many years, but in my dream I got a wonderful hug from her and could hear her voice and see her clearly.

It happens sometimes. Someone I love who has passed on will appear in my dreams.  Clear and well and full of love.  I will take the bad dreams if it means I will also have the good dreams.  Dreams that become memories as surely as if they happened in life and not just in my mind.

 

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Enough Love

I was sitting on the porch holding my great niece.  She is six months old and pure joy.  She is one of the happiest babies I have ever met.  She is doing this delightful thing of clapping the bottoms of her feet together when she lays on her back playing and laughing.  While I was holding her, I was suddenly overcome with the notion that I have to love her and her sister enough to make up for the ones missing.  They should have my mother and father still here.  There are other family members whose health and other factors reduce the time and attention available to spend with them.  I want them to feel the love I felt from my grandparents and my parents. A love that flows through time and space to them.  So much love and delight from generation to generation.

I have to talk about him for a moment.  He cooked us the best ribs and chicken for dinner today.  He is so wonderful to take time to cook something special.  Everything he cooks turns out perfect every time.  I fixed some green beans with browned butter and almonds as well as herbed corn on the cob.  I had picked up some Hawaiian rolls to go along.  For a light dessert, we had pineapple angel food cake. .  My niece and her family were here.  My angel daughter was here.  We visited and cooked and ate and played with the girls.   I don’t think my niece and her honey ate any cake.  They had to get loaded and on the road to get home.

The porch is quiet now.  I am savoring the memories freshly made.  I sting in my eyes, though.  Missing my son and his bride.  They would have been here today, too, had they been in Texas.

On Friday, he and I went to Lockhart.  On the way, we stopped to see my cousin and her husband.  She is one of my anchors.  She remembers so much of the old ways and the ancestors from years past.   She is actually my mother’s first cousin and so of that generation.  Being with her always helps me feel better about life.

We went on to our destination and had time to visit with friends from Oregon.  My young friend is a delight to be around.  Her father is a good friend to us.  She keeps telling me she wants to come to Texas to go to college.  I have reassured her father I will keep up with her.  She is a senior in high school and Oregon is a long way from her Daddy, the rest of her family, and her friends.  The reality may be less appealing than the dream for her.  I am here for her if she needs me.  I remember her coming to the kitchen at the sale barn maybe 3 years old in her cowboy boots.  Enough love for her, too.

He raises longhorns.  I am on the paperwork, too.  But, he does the real business.  Sometimes I help by standing in the way to hopefully keep a cow going the right direction.  Maybe open or close a gate or pick up feed at the feed store.  Not much real help.  But, I love the cows.  We brought home a very nice cow to add to our herd.  We got her at the Butler Sale in Lockhart.  She was bred and branded by the previously mentioned cousins.  Longhorns are more than cattle to me.  They are living history.  They are part of my history.  As a Texan and an American, I understand the difference they made in making our nation what it has become.  Enough love for him to help out.  Enough love for history to appreciate what we have.

I have a cousin struggling with illness and her mother doing all she can to help her.  I have a friend dealing with a very ill mother and personal struggles as well.  I have another friend recently dealt a hard blow in her life trying to get her feet under her and regroup.  I don’t know what to do sometimes except go sit with them, call or text them, pray with and for them.  Enough love for them.

The wonderful thing about love is that there is always enough.  Loves brings love.  Genuine love.  The kind of love that needs nothing in return.  Unconditional.  The love needed comes from His Love.  He is Love.  God is Love.  Letting go and letting Him use me to love others.  That is what I want.  That is what He wants for me, too.  He wrote it clearly in His Book.  Enough love.  Always enough.

Labor Day.  Summer’s End.  A final fling.  Fall’s Beginning.  Another season.  Always turning and returning seasons.  As life has its seasons, love has its seasons. The labor of love is no real labor.  Enough love from Him, for Him, from him, for him.  Enough love from the ancestors to the descendants.  This is my season for loving.  The grandparents’ season has passed.  The parents’ season has passed.  This is my season.  My season to do the labor of love.  I pray I do it as well as they did.   Enough love to sustain through the seasons to come.  Enough love.

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Trouble in Paradise

I am having a pity party.  I have some ongoing physical problems that won’t resolve.  Things get better then fall apart again.  I am not progressing at the rate I consider acceptable in my creative work.  I am feeling a mild panic at my age.  Not that I am aging, but that there is so much undone, still.

I am feeling fear that many of the wishes and dreams I had will not be fulfilled.  Most of them are within my own ability to achieve without his help.  But, the blocks in place seem mired in muck that is too much for me to deal with these days.  And I am the only one who can deal with them.

I try to look at others who are struggling with even larger, sometimes life threatening issues.  Intense illness or personal tragedy.  I have been through personal tragedy.  I pray I am mostly done with that.  I have told too many loved ones goodbye at graveside.  My health issues are not life threatening. But, they are life interfering.  Things I want to accomplish and am unable to get there.

Of course, I seem perfectly healthy from the outside.  I am one of those with a hidden physical illness and the additional emotional problem of depression.  Then, there are my feet.  My painfully damaged feet.  Pain that prevents certain activities or serious consequences for some types of activity.  Pain that interferes with sleep.

Sleep deprivation leading to a pity party.  So, here I am today in my beautifully simple life.  Safe from harm.  Home and pantry loaded with luxury.  Loved ones doing mostly okay.  I have good days and bad days.  Today is not so good.  My orchids are falling unseen today, I fear.  Wait a minute…………I need to stop right now and gather them up.

My health issues will improve.  My creative work is moving.  Maybe not like a freight train, but neither is it backing into the closet.  The gardening is coming along.  I did get a few things taken care of around the house over the weekend.  Sago palms sit in pots at the front door.  The stuff piled on the carport at the back door has been moved.  I have organized my crafting things onto the bookcase I got from the thrift store.  I did do some crochet and embroidery work.  I spent some time visiting with my cousin.  The children’s issues from last week have smoothed out.

Yes, my life is beautifully simple.  Sometimes, too simple.  It is my life.  And I am doing the best I can at this moment in time.  And tomorrow I will do the best I can in that moment of time.  The measuring stick cannot be arbitrary.  Some days, my best will be soaring above the clouds.  Some days, my best will be treading muddy water in a puddle.  Most days, things are somewhere in between.  Higher rather than lower.  Temporary.  Things change.  That is a good thought to hang on to, whatever I am feeling or doing today.  No matter how the orchids are raining, a couple of things do not change.  He and he love me.  And I am blessed with the capacity to love them back.  Orchids enough for today.

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