Bright blue days of October, gentle rain on the roof..
The beginning of school, fresh faces and new backpacks.
Libraries with their hushed tones and bookstores with the anticipation of a new story...
My husband, who keeps it all together and stays by my side..
A lit fireplace at night; its crackling sounds and gentle glow
A ticking, pendulum clock...
A beautiful snow at Christmastime.
My precious children...the closest thing to my heart.
Autumn and its lovely display of color....Halloween orneriness and the beauty of Thanksgiving.
Puppies with their velvety soft ears and sweet smell...
Sunshine, walks in the country, coffee with a dear friend, long handwritten letters...
Music, music, music.....my talented brother's incredible gift on the piano...soft, Celtic melodies, Italian love songs, country story-telling, hymns of inspiration...
Candles with their soothing fragrances and the loveliness of their illumination...
Touching stories that make me fall in love all over again with the human race...
Feeling close to God.
Quaint Bed and Breakfast Inns off the beaten path and hidden away like a precious secret, shared with someone I love.
Family....the best in the world.
Dreams of travel; of places on my wish-list: Italy, Greece, Paris, Ireland....and closer to home...Seattle, the east coast and the ocean...any ocean. A return to Arizona and Galveston...
Friends who have impacted my life and made me richer....people who have not stayed long, but who touched me so profoundly that I was never the same again...
Flowers from my garden, growing wild on the prairies, in lovely arrangements in window displays, from the arms of someone I adore...
Castles and the Renaissance...
Sweets of any and every kind - especially chocolate!
Down-to-earth, grounded people, genuine, caring, real...
Day trips to new places
Breath-taking views from my own back yard
Hugs
A full, orange harvest moon...
Blue jeans, laughing until I cry, picnics
Pretty dresses and subtle perfume...
Sitting in the porch swing during a thunderstorm...
Hardware stores.
Flying and feeling at peace and detached from the rest of the world...
Daisies.
Sentimental, romantic gestures.
Simplicity...
Realizing that though the bank account is wanting, I am one of the wealthiest people I know...
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Nighttime Musings
The house is quiet....or as quiet as it can be with all of our technologies. The clock in the living room ticks with a steady and predictable rhythm; a sound I have become so familiar with...a sound I have grown up with. The ceiling fan above me whirls quietly; so much preferred over the forced noise of central air. The television hums faintly, still tuned into HGTV where the hostess is planning the perfect garden tea party. Everyone else is asleep and I am alone with my thoughts for the first time today. My beautiful auburn-haired daughter - nearly 16 - bid be goodnight awhile back, bringing a smile to my face as she always does with her "kissy wissys mommy!" She is having trouble getting to sleep at night, telling me that she lies awake, her mind full of thoughts. She has lost her best friend, one who played the part of her boyfriend, and I know she has a difficult time ridding her mind of him at this most quiet time of the day. I hate to see it start so soon. Not just the relationships that bring heartache at such a tender age, but the restlessness of waiting for sleep to come. It seems that that is a woman thing: the busyness of the day keeping us going throughout the light hours, then when we lie down at the end of it all, the thoughts and fears and all of life's complexities invade our minds with their perpetualness when our body stops for sleep. My husband, in bed two hours ago is getting much needed rest after being up with work-related calls the past two nights, probably falling asleep wondering why his night-owl of a wife can't shut off at the same time. In the next room my 13-year-old son is breathing softly. I checked on him and watched as he lay perfectly and peacefully still; his brown, long-lashed eyes closed in deep slumber as his perpetual motion succumbs to the night.
And my mind continues as my thoughts take over: the hospital bills waiting to be paid, being out of work for the summer, yearbook camp for my daughter, the need to lose a few pounds, photographs to be developed from Sunday's confirmation, the upcoming holiday, the new baby kittens outside in the hot night time air, the shawl I'm knitting, my book on the end table, letters that need to be written, conversations had...and conversations wished to be.
And my mind continues as my thoughts take over: the hospital bills waiting to be paid, being out of work for the summer, yearbook camp for my daughter, the need to lose a few pounds, photographs to be developed from Sunday's confirmation, the upcoming holiday, the new baby kittens outside in the hot night time air, the shawl I'm knitting, my book on the end table, letters that need to be written, conversations had...and conversations wished to be.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Conflicting thoughts
I love living in the country....I really do. The mornings come earlier and more completely as the sun is allowed to ascend without any obstructions and fills my window. Cattle-filled pastures, fields, graveled roads and rolling bluffs surround me, bringing a rural diversity to each view. A dog is not just a pet but a guard, a walking companion, a confidante, a friend. Kittens come and go through the cycle of life, with each new birth still a wonder and every loss mourned. Birds serenade the dawn and twilight and the ending of a day is celebrated with a triumphant blast of color across the sky. Combines, tractors and pickup trucks frequent the roads with a wave from every passer-by and flying dust introduces their appearance as well as follows on their heels like a brown cloud. I sit on the small John Deere mower, roughing the bumps, turning the corners as I watch in wonder the beautiful world around me. My own little corner.
And I think about what lies beyond these fields and pastures.
A plane flies overhead and I wave like an idiot, knowing that if they see me at all I'll appear as a lunatic who has lost her mind after being plopped down in the middle of nowhere. Who is up there...where are they going? Are they wondering or thinking, searching...dreaming? Does their life make perfect sense and when they land, will it be amongst family and friends or in the midst of loneliness and confusion?
I've always felt that there is something "out there" that I'm supposed to be doing. I'm content in my life. I love my family. I find satisfaction in what I do and who I am. Yet....there is an impatience and frustration in the feeling that I slipped off the dock before I made it to the boat. The lifeboat carries me well with those I love surrounding me. And I am thankful, knowing I am blessed more than most. But the boat is still out there and I can't shake the feeling that its side is painted in brilliant letters with my name. There is plenty of room for all, but for the first time....I get to be the captain.
And I think about what lies beyond these fields and pastures.
A plane flies overhead and I wave like an idiot, knowing that if they see me at all I'll appear as a lunatic who has lost her mind after being plopped down in the middle of nowhere. Who is up there...where are they going? Are they wondering or thinking, searching...dreaming? Does their life make perfect sense and when they land, will it be amongst family and friends or in the midst of loneliness and confusion?
I've always felt that there is something "out there" that I'm supposed to be doing. I'm content in my life. I love my family. I find satisfaction in what I do and who I am. Yet....there is an impatience and frustration in the feeling that I slipped off the dock before I made it to the boat. The lifeboat carries me well with those I love surrounding me. And I am thankful, knowing I am blessed more than most. But the boat is still out there and I can't shake the feeling that its side is painted in brilliant letters with my name. There is plenty of room for all, but for the first time....I get to be the captain.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
My shoes....my journey
Nineteen eighty-eight. Those seventeen years ago I was newly married and still young. Though I'd never been much of an athlete, I was still fairly small. Still, I knew that a small size didn't necessarily mean I was "in shape". I decided to take up walking since it was an exercise that didn't require much skill or coordination. I promptly went to the local mall and purchased a pair of NIKE walking shoes. Wanting something plain and white, I finally selected a pair, size 7 1/2, for around $60. Excitedly, I took them home and began a walking program which consisted of 3 miles a day.
Sometimes I walked outside, but more often I took to the open, echoing hallways of another, smaller mall with mostly abandoned shops and vacant windows. Here I was alone with my thoughts, the music from my headphones and my walking shoes. It was a respite of sorts and I could hear the squeak of the new leather as it made contact with the cool concrete floors, marking my progress with each turn.
Through the years there were lapses in my routine as childrearing and work made it difficult to find time to indulge myself in a private walk. Now the shoes pulled a little red wagon with two preschoolers or ran beside a small bicylist, just learning to pedal. During those years the shoes were on hiatus from their primary function, going instead to the park, on an Ozark vacation or a slow stroll with a little hand in each of mine as we looked for treasures around the neighborhood.
Life has a way of changing and throwing us curves and it is the rare thing that remains constant. In these past 17 years I have gone through many things, including the birth of two children, a divorce, some medical crisis', a remarriage, two jobs and five relocations. And in the midst of all the changes, joyous and difficult, the shoes have endured.
Each time I had the opportunity to get back to walking was a new experience as I was at different points in my life. First I was a newlywed, trying to figure out the intricacies of marriage and contemplating motherhood. Later, during a separation and divorce I gained strength with each successive lap as I repeated over and over to myself that I would be all right. Last year the shoes led me to recovery after major surgery; slowly at first with the aid of a cane, then with gaining momentum as the days passed.
Today is yet a new chapter in my life. And the shoes remain. Definitely worn now, the soles are permanently stained from grass and dirt, rain and sunshine, slabs of concrete...and country roads. There are bumps and ridges where they have conformed to my feet, hugging them like a well-made pair of soft moccasins. Now as I walk along the graveled roads by my house, they are so much a part of me and with them I seek different things each day. Sometimes it is a picture as my camera hangs on my shoulder, looking for the perfect photo opportunity. Often I walk quickly and with purpose, hoping to shed some of those unwanted pounds that have seemed to find me over the years. Sometimes I need to be alone, to think through a difficult time and gain strength in prayer and solitude to deal with whatever I am facing. Many times it is in search of memories as I remember the blessings of my past and the stories within me. And always, I ponder the dreams yet to be.
My walking shoes. Still plain, though not so white now, a reshaped size 7 1/2 with no monetary value. And yet, they've been a part of me for over 1/3 of my life and a partner in priceless memories. My walking shoes. Accompanying me every step of the way.
Sometimes I walked outside, but more often I took to the open, echoing hallways of another, smaller mall with mostly abandoned shops and vacant windows. Here I was alone with my thoughts, the music from my headphones and my walking shoes. It was a respite of sorts and I could hear the squeak of the new leather as it made contact with the cool concrete floors, marking my progress with each turn.
Through the years there were lapses in my routine as childrearing and work made it difficult to find time to indulge myself in a private walk. Now the shoes pulled a little red wagon with two preschoolers or ran beside a small bicylist, just learning to pedal. During those years the shoes were on hiatus from their primary function, going instead to the park, on an Ozark vacation or a slow stroll with a little hand in each of mine as we looked for treasures around the neighborhood.
Life has a way of changing and throwing us curves and it is the rare thing that remains constant. In these past 17 years I have gone through many things, including the birth of two children, a divorce, some medical crisis', a remarriage, two jobs and five relocations. And in the midst of all the changes, joyous and difficult, the shoes have endured.
Each time I had the opportunity to get back to walking was a new experience as I was at different points in my life. First I was a newlywed, trying to figure out the intricacies of marriage and contemplating motherhood. Later, during a separation and divorce I gained strength with each successive lap as I repeated over and over to myself that I would be all right. Last year the shoes led me to recovery after major surgery; slowly at first with the aid of a cane, then with gaining momentum as the days passed.
Today is yet a new chapter in my life. And the shoes remain. Definitely worn now, the soles are permanently stained from grass and dirt, rain and sunshine, slabs of concrete...and country roads. There are bumps and ridges where they have conformed to my feet, hugging them like a well-made pair of soft moccasins. Now as I walk along the graveled roads by my house, they are so much a part of me and with them I seek different things each day. Sometimes it is a picture as my camera hangs on my shoulder, looking for the perfect photo opportunity. Often I walk quickly and with purpose, hoping to shed some of those unwanted pounds that have seemed to find me over the years. Sometimes I need to be alone, to think through a difficult time and gain strength in prayer and solitude to deal with whatever I am facing. Many times it is in search of memories as I remember the blessings of my past and the stories within me. And always, I ponder the dreams yet to be.
My walking shoes. Still plain, though not so white now, a reshaped size 7 1/2 with no monetary value. And yet, they've been a part of me for over 1/3 of my life and a partner in priceless memories. My walking shoes. Accompanying me every step of the way.
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