Thursday, December 30, 2021

We made it through

My peeps and I made it through our first Christmas without Dad. 
And that sentence right there is hard to type, as it implies, correctly, that every future Christmas will be without him.

bonzai

Did we enjoy the day together?  Yes.  The weather was beautiful, everyone had fun playing Secret Santas, and enjoyed good food.  But did we later in the day self-medicate and get a little sauced then maybe have some mild family drama about feelings?  Also yes.  We also fairly glossed over Grayson's birthday, which I did not intend.  And we made a giant mess of the house, which I spent a couple of hours the next day cleaning.  I'm giving us all a pass on it this year, though.  It was no small thing to get through.  My kids have never known a Christmas without their Dad walking through the house ho-ho-ho-ing as the Christmas music was cranked up and the coffee pot gently perked.  I can forgive them for feeling gypped in the midst of all of our wealth and health.  After all, it isn't "stuff" that Christmas is made of.  Not delicious food and treats.  Not a pretty tree and full stockings.
It's family.
One of our own is missing, which makes this a very different Christmas.
And we will continue to get through these "first" times, together.



Thursday, October 28, 2021

Intentions

Mark had the best of intentions for us at Highlands.

Spencer learning the riding lawnmower

His plan was for us to eventually retire there.  He wanted to build a barndominium that we could lock up tight when we were traveling.  Something that could withstand burglars, crazy Texas weather, and the zombie apocalypse.  A place we could launch travels from, have a garden, sit and gaze at the stars.

There was a learning curve of sorts...

The rest was all minor detail to his grand plan.  For example, how to care for all of the things:  Darby, the land itself, the barn, the well and pump, the mower, etc.  He was pretty great at all of it, but he showed me how to do NOTHING.

It hasn't been mowed since a week before Mark passed.

And you know what they say about plans.  So here I am, three months into widowhood and there is so much I do not know about how to take care of Highlands. I can barely think about the future.  Its like my mind goes blank.

He's getting the hang of it!

When someone gently says to me "Mom, its ok, I will help you", I feel a little more hopeful.  I don't have to know it all rightthisminute, but I also don't feel like I have years and years to decide.  Its very overwhelming to me.  I may sound like a broken record saying that, but Mark and I never even discussed the what ifs. And he probably thought I would just sell it if I had to.
 No biggie, right?


When the sun is out, I feel hopeful.  I'm trying hard to think about it clearly and decide, in time, what it is I truly want, but that's not something I have done for so long.  


Thursday, October 14, 2021

Happy things right now

Time to make a list of positive things so I can find perspective in the midst of all the negative.  

The happiest thing: I found the one

1.  Health-wise, I feel great.  I had some knee pain, so I bought some arthritis cream, started an Aleve regimen, and went on living my life. I am taking all of my meds as I should and am taking care of myself.  I am also sleeping just fine.  

2.  My car is running smoothly and gets great gas mileage.  Additionally, the truck is running well, is almost paid off, and is a safe way for me to travel to Highlands. I am staying on top of all of my obligations when it comes to bills and general upkeep of the house and cars.

3.  Ordering groceries for curbside pick-up is saving me grocery money, not to mention time.  Plus, we are eating only healthy foods that are intentional to the menus.

4.  My nails are growing like crazy.  And my hair is so grown out from that disastrous haircut that I now need a trim.  I'm not sure that that is health-related, but I feel like I look better. 

5.  My attorney is moving right along with all of the necessary filing.  The RV has not sold yet, but it isn't in my driveway, making me feel sad.  She is also helping me write my will, and once that is done, I will breathe easier.  I have my witnesses lined up to appear in front of a judge when we go to probate.  Lets get this done.

6.  This week I talked to a counselor in person at work and it felt very cathartic.  It inspired me to contact the EAP for my employer and get the ball rolling to see someone on a regular basis.  

I'm doing my best to focus on the positives.  This is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life becoming a widow. I just have to keep moving forward. 


Tuesday, February 9, 2021

This is Jean

My mother was given a name at birth that my great aunt did not approve of.  All these years I assumed that it was because there was a problem with the first name.  But it wasn't the first name that my great aunt took issue with.  My grandmother had my mother out of wedlock and initially gave her the last name of her former husband.  My great aunt said, no, you can't do that, it isn't his child.  To add insult to injury, she talked my grandmother into a new first name as well, re-naming the baby Jeannette.  Her expression in this photo was life-long for my mother, yet heartbreaking.  A solemn child, cold sore on her lip.  She was pretty cute actually, but probably didn't smile all that much.


My mother is a child of the depression, granddaughter of a Baptist preacher that referred to her as "the little bastard", born in 1930.  She will tell you she had a great childhood with memories of days spent playing freely in creeks and fields out in the country with an older brother and cousin. 
I believe her to be a highly functioning autistic person.
Photos were few.  My grandmother raised my mother and an older brother alone.  They lived in a house with no electricity or running water.  They caught or grew what they ate, including squirrel and such.  My mother was very different and she was treated like a little adult because she was so smart.  And people took advantage of her and she was mistreated at times.  She survived. 


She skipped a grade or two,  moved in with and married just before graduating high school at age 16, and had three kids by age 20.  She studied to become an X-ray tech - something she was very proud of.  Then divorced.  With the second husband, she gained two more kids.  Divorced again.


Started going by Jean.  Married a third time and had three more children.  Eight kids ranging in age from 18 to newborn, and a few step-children to boot.  I don't think it ever occurred to her that life was supposed to be different.  She divorced the 3rd husband.  Decided to learn this new thing - ultrasound - and continued to work.  She taught herself to crochet, sew, embroider, make quilts, work a garden, raise chickens, take care of children and a home by herself.  She read voraciously.  She lost one child, become estranged from four children.   At age 60 she went to Saudi Arabia to work, and met the love of her life while on vacation in India. She married one last time, at age 60, this time for real love.  Spent 10 years traveling the globe with him, enjoying their life even as they experienced various misadventures.  She saw what life could have been and she's been a little less heartsick over losing him each year that passes, but I believe that pain is always with her.


Some things we get to choose, others we do not. Everyone carries a burden - a cross to bear, physically, mentally, whatever.  And we can't yet know why God gives us the life we have.  Some of life's choices are up to us - but we don't have the benefit of hindsight right away - sometimes not until much, much later.  Giving someone the grace of forgiveness and acceptance eases the burden on both of you.

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Ephesians 4:32


Tuesday, January 26, 2021

Two seasons, same hill

Two views, same Highlands hill.


I took this photo of drab skies with heavy heart.  I no longer ask how long until the pandemic is over and we can all get back to "normal".  I just tell myself it will last a very long time.  But guess what?  Although pandemics can go on for years, winter doesn't.
Families can come back together, too.  Hearts can heal.
"No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn." {Hal Bourland}


Spring will come again.