“I love this American Folk Art piece I bought years ago in Colorado.”

As I stand in my grandma’s kitchen, memories flood around me as thick as flies at a picnic. I stood at this counter on the old red kitchen stool, a feedsack apron, just my size, wrapped around my waste as I helped Grandma cook lunch for the field hands when the strawberries came on. She wouldn’t let me pick because I stepped on the runners and more got in my mouth than in my basket. She cooked lots of wonderful, wholesome foods fresh from the garden. We canned, pickled, dried, and preserved everything we could get our hands on or glean from the garden. When I’m washing dishes at the sink, I can hear the laughter filter down through the years when everyone gathered at Grandma’s table to break bread and count blessings. When I cook at her stove, I remember the way she took a couple of quarts of roast beef out of the cellar, dredged the chunks in flour, salt, and pepper and fried them in whatever fat was available. She never could make a gravy without lumps. That and pie crusts were the bane of her existence. She bragged about my pies and bread when I came home for visits. That was her way of asking me to bake for her.

“A conversation with my dad.”

I had a perfect weekend. I say that a lot. “It was a perfect day!” “What a perfect sunset!” I can’t help it. It’s the eternal sunshine in my hopeful heart. The world is just so dang awesome! But I did have a great weekend. Friday night football with my high school buds after pizza at the local hangout. We won against our arch rivals. It was a dead even game and we won by a field goal with 2.1 seconds left on the clock! My friends and I remarked how we felt just like we did 43 years ago when we were last there. The only difference was, I was wearing my full length blue fox coat! It was 31 degrees and not all that far from the river…it was darned chilly in that stadium. Ok, I had a really awesome moment when the entire cheerleading squad dropped their mouths open as I walked by and this sweet little girl said, “Oh, my gosh! I love your coat!” The cheerleaders liked me! Wow! (giggle)

“God Moments”

Something happens. A moment out of the ordinary. The moment when you know in your gut that what just happened had God written all over it. This is part of what I was talking about the other day when we discussed listening to your heart. When you are in tune…aligned with the energies of your Higher Power…you will notice more and more God moments. I had just such a moment yesterday and it was amazing.

“You can’t use up creativity…”

The more you practice something, the better you get…no matter if you’re painting, driving, parenting, meditating. A friend of mine invited me to do the 21 day free meditation series on the Energy of Attraction with Deepak Chopra and Oprah Winfrey. I signed up and have faithfully done each of the first five days. I don’t know what it is about meditation. You’re supposed to ‘un-concentrate’, says my friend. Ok. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think….I’m thinking. I’m thinking about not thinking. I’m thinking about the fact that it’s cold. I’m thinking about coffee. Mmmmmmm, nice hot, steaming cuppa Joe. Joe. I wonder what happened to him? He was going with…..oh, what’s her name? Anyway, she was really something. She was from Cincinnati. I have a friend in Cincinnati. Oooooh, Cincinnati Five Way Chili!!! Dang, that would be good today. It’s so cold. I need coffee!

“We Rise by Lifting Others!”

Twenty-two months ago, I started this blog and when the unthinkable happened, it became a grief journal. Unlike a journal kept by the bedside, mine has gone out to tens of thousands of people with the hope that it touches those suffering losses of their own. That it may be of some source of comfort to let others know they aren’t alone on their path through the barren landscape of grief. I have met some of you in person. I have conversed with some of you in a private chat. And even though I don’t KNOW you all, I feel as though I am surrounded by loving friends. You have sent me countless words of encouragement. You have no idea how much your support and prayers have helped me get through a terribly scary part of life and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

“Stop waiting!”

Don’t worry…be happy. There have been times in my life when it was difficult to believe I would…or COULD…ever be happy again. Divorce was painful and made me sad. It was a terrible struggle complicate by rejection. Mr. Virgo’s death was worse. Unless you have experienced the loss of someone so close, no words I can ever write will make you really understand. I don’t remember much of the first year. I’m so glad I blogged through it so I can look back to see my progress. Eventually though, I made it through to the other side. Changed certainly, but not all in a bad way. I find when I meet new people now, I am so much more “present” than I was before. I have opened up more, which surprises me. I was afraid I would stay hiding in the corner of my pain forever and miss out on life’s joyous moments.

“When loved ones come to you in a dream…”

How many of you have dreamt of a lost loved one? Was it comforting or did it just make you sad? I’ve only had a couple of dreams of Mr. Virgo since he died. Both times I woke up feeling as though he was right there within my reach. The dreams were SO real. I was laying with my head on his shoulder and I could smell his cologne…hear his breathing…feel his heartbeat. I wish I could dream intentionally.

“Little Free Library at a Country Store”

Ok, you know when you are living in the country. I stopped at the gas station on my way into town for a cup of coffee. (She says, fondly remembering a place called Starbucks. It seems so long ago. Sigh.) I was greeted by a man who appeared to have come into town for his monthly shopping. His arms heavy laden, he still managed to reach into his bag of pork rinds. He stopped and looked into the bag, took a whiff, frowned and said, “Oh my goodness. Just bought me a fresh bag of pork rinds from in the store and they smell like road kill. Here…smell this!” Ummmm, no thanks. I smiled politely and dodged a little to the right. Bless his heart. It would be my luck that was Jesus and I wasn’t extraordinarily kind. Sigh.

“Listen with your heart.”

You’ve heard it. If not…you’ve felt it. That still, small voice that guides you. That gut instinct that cautions you. That “sixth sense”, “intuition”, “inner compass” that we all have. Listening to that Voice with my heart is a skill I crave to learn. All too often, I look back and recall hearing, but not heeding, the directions that were subtly handed down. For me, it is the Holy Spirit guiding me. And I’m stubborn. I want to do it my way. I don’t like to be “told what to do.”

“West Virginia…Home of My Heart!”

I had such a fun weekend! I went to town Saturday night and stayed over at my cousin’s house. I just adore him and his wife. Mike graduated from high school with me and we hadn’t seen each other in years yet we picked up right where we left off like no time had passed. I got up yesterday morning a went to a new church. They are at the kickoff of a major fundraising three year campaign and I had to laugh because Sunday’s service was much like tuning in to PBS expecting to watch a really great show only to discover it’s telethon time. :-) I’ll try them another time though. Nice people, good music, big church.