When I first began writing this blog…I mean, earnestly writing…I was reeling from the sudden loss of my husband. I wrote from a place of pain and my heart spilled out onto these pages with the fresh blood of grief. I was a Christian, I was “faithful”, but I did not bring God into the equation when it came to this blog. I did not want to offend anyone. I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. It had nothing whatsoever to do with being “politically correct”. It had everything to do with being respectful. There’s nothing wrong with that and it worked…until that day in church when I got a “text from God”.
Mr. FixIt and I went to a simple country funeral yesterday. My cousin’s wife lost her mom Friday after a brief but courageous fight with cancer. We went to the early service at church yesterday so we could make it to the funeral in time as it was an hour and a half away. It is a testimony to the impact of a person’s life when the line to get into the funeral stretches long outside the building.
I watched my husband die. It was fast. It seemed relatively painless. Not pain free, but not unbearable. He seemed to take everything in stride with a certain…resignation. Like he knew what was coming, so why fight it? Interestingly…it was like that for me too, looking back on it. I’m sure I was in shock, because every time I ever pictured what would happen if/when he died, it certainly wasn’t with me sitting on a stool in the corner of the room answering medical questions in a flat monotone. I wasn’t beating my chest or screaming or even crying. I don’t remember crying till I saw my kids.
I was so excited Thursday! I was heading out for a weekend with the Girl Campers and even got to leave a day early. I had reservations in a cabin. I was meeting old friends and new. I was pumped!
I got the truck packed, with WAY too much stuff, and headed south through a driving rain. It was only a two hour drive so no big deal. I stopped at a Walmart near my destination and bought the ingredients for beef and noodles…my contribution to Saturday’s Soup Night…our tradition. I arrived at the cabin around 3:00 in the afternoon, got everything unpacked, greeted the host, and decided to take a nap. I couldn’t seem to get warm for some reason.
“Imagine if we obsessed about the things we LOVE about ourselves.”
I’d love to have all the hours back that I obsessed about the things I didn’t like about myself. My hair. My body. My nose. My “flaws”…real or imagined. Can you imagine if we never, ever looked in the mirror and hated something we saw? Oh…what I really hate is that I put my faith in someone who judged me by my appearance. I really hate that I saw my self-worth through someone else’s lens. For…far…too…long.
What an absolute treat it was to wake up out at the farm yesterday morning. Grandma’s bedroom is right along the creek’s edge and with all the rain we have been having, the sound of the water riffling along was like a lullaby. I slept so well and awoke refreshed and ready to face a busy day.
Mr. FixIt and I did a morning walkabout on the property to check things out. He moved some fallen limbs from the ditch along the road and placed them on the burn pile. The daffodils are up about 8” high already and the grass is greening up nicely. I’ll need to mow before too long to mulch up the leaves that fell over the fall and winter. The rhododendron gets huge buds on them in the fall. They winter over and won’t bloom till late May or early June. They are still beautiful as they awaken from winter with a freshened shine to their leaves. They don’t drop their leaves like so many other plants. They just droop down all winter then stand up with their arms stretched wide in the spring.
After having breakfast with a granddaughter who is a student at WVU, we headed off to explore the area further south where my ancestors were from. I have this thing for cemeteries. I am always curious as to who these people were. Do they still have visitors? Do they have people who remember them and tell their stories? Or has it been so long that all of their loved ones are dead and gone and no one knows to even look for them. Or…worse yet…no one cares.
Mr. FixIt and I live a pretty frugal life. We are careful in our spending so that we can afford small indulgences now and then. We both came from mixed backgrounds. We’ve both known what it’s like to have very little and to have much. We have a healthy appreciation of both. Because we came together later in life, money will be something we watch carefully. We have become good stewards of what God has given us.
I am always pumped on Mondays. My “Monday Morning Motivation” begins Sunday when Mr. FixIt and I walk into church. I’ve never gone to a church that has been so uplifting. I have never in my life looked forward to Sundays like I do now! It is such an amazing feeling to carry God with me into my week.
The Praise and Worship Team sang a new song yesterday by the Christian rock band, Jesus Culture called “Love Has a Name”. Our sermon series for the month of February was entitled “Love Handles”. Yesterday, Pastors Justin and Heather sat down and talked to us about 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 and put it in the perspective of our relationships. Let’s break it down.
I met my gal pals for coffee yesterday…these magnificent ‘71 Divas Do Coffee. We started meeting once a month about four years ago to gather at a coffee shop and participate in a little “caffeine therapy”. I had a coffee group in Colorado that met once a week for 35 years and I really missed the camaraderie. I gathered up my friends and invited them out and now we can’t imagine not getting to see each other at least that once a month visit. There are now offshoots of the group that meet for lunch almost every week. Some of them meet to take care of a flower garden in the City Park. A few of them are going to drive down Monday to see a sick friend in Huntington. They are a grand group of gals with many common bonds…predominantly graduating high school together.