The sun! Ok, it was out for less than fifteen minutes at the farm today…but, oh! What a divine fifteen minutes that was!!! Ok, that is what is the hardest thing about living in the Mid-Ohio Valley as opposed to the Roaring Fork Valley. There is far less sunshine here. The sky stays grey for weeks at a time. When the snow finally comes, it stays till we can get a welcome respite of sunshine and warmth like yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Tomorrow is predicted to get up to 63 degrees! I will take that any day over the bitter, frigid weather we’ve had for the last few weeks.
I am so grateful for the little breaks we get in the winter. After what seems like weeks, the thermometer crept up above freezing yesterday! It was amazing. There was an ice/snow storm that swept through before dawn so schools were closed here…again. I have been talking with friends my age lately and we remember the “good old days” when girls were NOT allowed to wear pants to school. I rode the school bus. We couldn’t afford snow boots. We were lucky to have a semi-decent coat and a scarf and mittens. I remember walking to the bus stop in penny loafers and knee socks, my feet wet and freezing, the skin on my knees white and hard. My face hurt. I couldn’t talk. My nostrils would freeze shut. And that was just getting TO the bus stop. Once we got there, we would huddle together in a circle facing inward, trying to ward off the icy wind blowing in off the Ohio River. Now? Now if there is a remote chance there will be any snow on the road, school is closed for the following day. Kids miss a ton of school and have to make it up at the end of the school year.
Our babies were just wee ones when we met. We were taking a sewing class together which really turned out to be twice a week therapy for busy moms to vent and create something beautiful. Sue took my breath away. Tall and slender with that long, thick, full-bodied hair those of us with baby fine strands drool over, she embodied the earth mother I so desperately wanted to be. We became fast friends. We got together and had tea. We hiked. We stitched and b****ed our way through our children’s youth. We were soccer moms. And, even though we were several years apart in age, we had so much in common.
A) the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi (Matthew 2:1–12).
B) the festival commemorating the Epiphany on January 6.
C) a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being.
D) a moment of sudden revelation or insight.
Yesterday was Epiphany. Traditionally, it marks the end of the Christmas Season. The day the Three Wise Men visited the baby Jesus and bestowed their gifts to Him.
The nature of my writing has grown with the changes I have gone through on my grief journey. Early on, it was so incredibly painful to even try to put words together to express my pain. I understood for the first time how God could hear our prayers when all we can manage are groans. Once the words started, it was like releasing a torrent. My pain literally fell onto the pages and it was emotionally exhausting…for me, and for you as well. The release was cathartic. The more I let it go, the more my heart healed.
As most of the country settles in for a rough ride on the Snowball Express, I am sitting here snug as a bug in a rug at Mr. FixIt’s house. I’ve taken to listening to praise music as I write my posts. I’ve changed things up and started writing during the day instead of late at night. I thought it might give me a different perspective and add a new dimension to the blog. The praise music not only keeps my heart in the right place, it inspires me to write about a scripture instead of the other way around. All this time I have written my post then I’d go look for an appropriate scripture that illustrated what my thinking was. That’s a much more time consuming process.
I step out…WAY out of my comfort zone here sometimes. I believe in pushing boundaries in order to grow. It has made me a stronger, more well-rounded person to stretch since Mr. Virgo died.
I’ve always been creative. I can draw and paint landscapes, flowers, houses and do a pretty fair rendition. But people and animals…faces…elude me. I never get the proportion right. I’m heavy handed. There is no “life” in them.
Occasionally I get a comment on my blog from someone so fresh on this grief journey that they are lost. They don’t know where to turn or what to do next. They are obviously in a great deal of pain and my heart breaks for them because…I know. I’ve been there. Many of us have. I respond to every single comment on my blog. Most often it’s with a ❤️, just to let you know I have seen your comment. Occasionally, I write something back. On this particular occasion, I wrote a whole essay as my response. After giving it some thought, I decided it was time again to revisit “How do you survive this?”
We went to the farm yesterday. On our way there, Mr. Fixit pointed out the two little burros huddling in a shed, trying to keep warm in the frigid 9 degree air. Seeing the little burros, my mind immediately went soaring back forty years to one of the favorite periods of my life. When I met Hubby #2, he was a Physical Therapist who worked across the hall from me. I was the X-Ray Tech for a small rehabilitation hospital in downtown Denver. He was also finishing some pre-med classes at CU Boulder in preparation for applying to medical school. We were young and in love and poor as church mice. Daughter #1 was three years old. We had no money so we were adept at finding activities that were free, or nearly so. It was cool to be poor struggling students.
I love when the calendar turns to a new year. The slate is wiped clean and you can start fresh…a great big do over. Never was this more impactful to me personally than January 1, 2014. It was the first New Year’s Day after losing Mr. Virgo. Somehow, I had it in my head that if I could just say “My husband died last year” it would somehow make the loss easier. It didn’t. Not by a long shot.
Winter Dawn by Ginny McKinney
