Friday, November 05, 2010

Friday morn

cold night-lots of wind and waves here on the lake-so noisy it woke me up!
I have been walking in a deeper valley this week. I know this valley of sorrow and know some of the trails that I take and each time they bring that fresh smell of loss. I also know how to walk back to life again and I am on the uphill climb to the light and air.
That deep place of the loss is so hard, so sad. I am glad I don't live there anylonger. Just so helpless, so unchanged. The story is the same. The ending is the same, it is a finished painting of what happened.
I took this picture up in the Rockies this last trip and loved the aspens. By now I am sure all the leaves will have fallen. There will be a barrenness to all the branches-but the hope is in the spring that will come after the long and cold winter.
My hope is in that final spring-the final place I will be for all times. For now, the need to keep with the changes of the heart, my dear heart that moves sometimes slowly through the season of grief. I don't know if it will ever feel like a right fit. I know many now around me who journey their own land of loss. I am glad we see one another across the borders of that sorrow to wave and shout encouraging words and smiles. That tenderness of a shared burden makes one's own burden lighter. If you listen hard and close your eyes--you will hear the breeze blowing through these aspen leaves and they are clapping--and making sweet noise, rejoicing at the last of their brilliant glory!

Thursday, November 04, 2010

early morn

Never give up in Life video.

I saw this video clip at church last Sunday and last night after never going to sleep, yet finding myself resting quietly in my Father by morning, quiet in my heart, yet still so much swirling more quietly...that this song was playing quietly in my mind and wanted to post it. It is powerful...and good...and I know He holds me...and I will never give up, but run well to the finish.

Late night-swirling thoughts

been awhile since I couldn't sleep. just many thoughts swirling in my mind.
was writing tonight more of the journey i have had and it was alot to process of our life through many years.
also went to a grief reunion group of the group i did a few months after you died dear sarah c.
i miss you. i miss our life. i miss that there wasn't more to write of our journey.
i get to a place that no more words seem to make it make it better.
i am grateful and glad for things like this picture given to me just a week ago by Diana of a piece of wood she found for me on the North Carolina shore that looks so like a seagull and she wanted to give it to me as it so reminded her of all the parts a seagull has touched me in this land of loss and you.
i want to show it to you. i want to tell you and show you so many things. i watch other friends call their kids or they get phone calls from their kids...and you never call me and never will again. just am so quiet when i watch them talk-remembering the many calls from you-just random talk about anything calls. i still have 4 voice mail messages from you i listen to sometimes....randomly-and think how totally normal your voice is. and save them again for another time.
i am so grateful for the calls i get today from my dear other kids-and just savor the calls. still wish you would be here. want to tell you even about all them.
so the night is one of lonely wishes...and those just seem to get me into trouble with sleeping and decided to get up and write and try to leave these thoughts here. try to pry them out of my mind so i can sleep.
talking today at grief group was deep and hard. words spoken there by all of us that don't see air often now anymore as we journey farther out of the beginning and have gone further down the road. ability to share real stuff that still is in our hearts and processing events that are still a challenge-often to us with no one else knowing. grief is a challenge. we want to do it well, we just don't really know how. how to live well with joy in a land that is totally foreign to a language with not enough words we know how to use. like when people ask, "how are you doing?" do we know how to answer, what to answer-how much do they really want to know-how long do they have to to end the conversation if you get started and the pain and tears begin to come--kinda like pumping one of those old wells and all of a sudden the water comes with a gush--do you keep pumping or stop and try to make the water stop too.
i don't like this new land, only it isn't a place you can move from to another place to change the scenery--it goes with you where ever you go--it is now such a part of you. so, tonight is a harder night-and it is midway through the night. i know the new day will come, the sorrow will slow and not be so heavy...and i will go on. it is just late and too many words swirling in my mind and, like i said....i miss you.
you would have been 32 in a few weeks. so many thoughts about that--how your life would have looked. loss of dreams and you. moms have dreams for their children that are part of the grief to reckon out and release too. those are sometimes new ones to deal with as you would have grown older--they then become a fresh release...seeing you with children, finishing school....on and on and on.
the night is quiet. i hear the clocks ticking, Rick's breathing...wonder who else can't sleep tonight? I think of the words of the psalms that have comforted me in the night hours and will go read a few of those and know others have journeyed before me...and lamented and sorrowed and see if i can find the trail of hope and see some of where God is tonight. Go sit in His presence for a bit and snuggle into the arms that knows me without words.
tucking you back in now. miss you. love you.