Kindness In

November 16, 2022 / Jessica / 8 Comments

Today I’ve been thinking about kindness. Sure, the world catches holy heck for all the negativity, but I still have faith in all the glorious goodness out there.

For instance, today one of my friends asked for food to help some families out and let me tell you, people stepped up!!!

Even with groceries being incredibly high priced, many asked what was needed. I looked in our cupboards and will be making my donation tomorrow.

On a bit of a different note, I was also thinking about all the kindnesses extended to me during this weird year since I lost my momma. Initially, it was the cards, flowers, showing up, meals, etc.

But since then, my blogging friends have stepped up. Writing about loss is not easy and writing about parent loss is jaw-dropping hard. You all have been super supportive in offering your insights and support.

Another sort of kindness was given to me today that on the surface may not seem as profound as feeding someone who’s hungry or helping someone through loss, but I believe it’s monumental just the same.

You know I’ve been struggling with my bowling and I almost quit. It’s supposed to be fun, but it was stacking up to be annoying and frustrating…

In bowling and just in general, it seems like we can get a lot of advice about what we are doing wrong and sometimes it’s hard to feel good enough right where we are.

I am in touch with this. I get the last place score A LOT.

I’d seen online that there are bowling coaches. Like, that’s a thing. At a bowling alley about an hour and a half from here, I asked about coaching, then I went there today.

The beauty and the best part of the whole bowling coach experience was, I was being met where I am. The tips weren’t ‘change this, this, and this.’ In fact, it wasn’t any ‘change this.’

It was about adding to, not taking away. I love that on about a billion levels.

No one asks anyone to change in order to feed them and fill their fridges. No one asked me to change in order to support me in my momma loss. And, I didn’t have to take apart and put back together my bowling steps, throw, or swing.

These situations are not the same, of course, but the feeling of being able to stay authentic in any of them is pretty huge.

It’s like, judgment out, kindness in.

Love when that happens!

Hope you have a great night!

Jessica

The Bookcase

November 5, 2022 / Jessica / 16 Comments

Gratitude:

a warm day
working outside
reflections on the window
my parents’ old bookcase they gave me long ago
unboxing wonderful things

I’m standing in my dining room, looking out the window. It’s night and the way the kitchen light is angled, I can see things on the counter, even with my back to the kitchen. The cookie jar, bananas, apples, and chicken art are visible from here.

This afternoon, the front porch rails, bannisters, and I became friends. Some green muck tends to grow on them, creating layers of crusty looking junk. It may be caused by summer’s humidity, I suppose. Well, after walking by them for about the billionth time, I went inside and got a sponge.

An hour later, I had done some good work. My friend tells me that her gramma had a saying about work, that hard work is good work.

It sure is.

My other bit of good, hard work came from me moving a big, wooden bookcase from the garage to the dining room. It took up residence in the garage after we unloaded it from the moving truck four years ago. For whatever reason, it stayed there.

But, suddenly, in April, I wanted it in here! My momma passed away out of the blue on the last Sunday in March. I wanted it in here so I could see it every day and fill it with all the things she’s given me and my collectibles through the years.

That was seven months ago and never got moved inside…

Until now.

My momma was a “get things done-er.” My dad worked a lot of hours supporting a family of six, so if she wanted/needed things done, She did it. If she didn’t know how, she learned.

Ditto.

Like my dad, my husband works a lot of hours supporting our family of three. I could’ve waited until he got home, but I thought I could do it myself.

I didn’t quite know how to get the bookcase in the house, so I just started. With a little ingenuity and some luck, that beautiful treasure holder is now in my dining room.

I spent the evening unpacking glassware, vases, Depression glass, leaves and acorns my boy gave me when he was five, and gifts from my momma.

Those things?

They’ve been packed up in tubs for four years, too.

What a joy it is to see them again.

Thanks for being here.

Jessica

Miracles and Gratitude Day 10

October 5, 2022 / Jessica / 22 Comments

Gratitude:

having a truck that will get us down Forest Service roads that are steep and bumpy
natural springs
turning leaves
waterfalls
history
a fun afternoon stop with my son

On the way home from my dad’s, we stopped at a place I love. We hadn’t been there since we took my parents to see it, four years ago. My gosh, it was so good to go back.

It’s called Falling Springs and I’ve written about it before. It’s nine miles south of Winona, Missouri, on highway 19, then off on some old rickety rock road.

There are a lot of natural springs around here and they are all absolutely stunning. This one is pretty unique because there’s an old log cabin homestead there, too.

*log cabin at Falling Springs,*
*near Winona Missouri*

It’s very peaceful there. Some people came, but after they left, we had the place to ourselves.

I was reminded about why I love photography so much. Varying where we stand, can completely change the picture.

For instance, this first photograph is from the front of the mill’s water wheel. The second one, is from the back of the mill.

Results?

Two cool pictures of the same thing.

*water wheel at Falling Springs*
*from the front of the mill*

*Falling Springs mill’s water wheel*
*from the back of the mill*

Miracle photos:

One of my favorite pictures for the day~

*photo I took at Falling Springs*
*near Winona MO*

And, the waterfall. It’s stunning.

*waterfall at Falling Springs near Winona, MO*

M I R A C L E S

Thank you for reading.

Jessica

** all photos and writing are mine

Miracles and Gratitude Day 6

October 1, 2022 / Jessica / 14 Comments

Gratitude:

seeing my dad
doing an Iowa puzzle with my dad
hanging out with my dad

Miracle Photos:

garden areas my momma loved

Puzzle time!

This morning we are off on some yard sale adventures. Today, there’s a highway 136 yard sale across a part of Nebraska called the Trail of Treasures. My parent’s house is near the starting town, so we may go.

Hope you have a great Saturday.

Jessica

Rookie Bowler

September 21, 2022September 30, 2022 / Jessica / 15 Comments

I rarely write two posts in one day, but this is itching to come out.

Last night at bowling, it went great. My stance was solid. My gutter balls improved. My scored increased. And not once, did I feel like crying.

It just felt better all the way around. Am I pro? Heck no. Does that matter? Absolutely not.

I wrote a post this morning about finding my way. What I realized all the sudden, is that we all are, finding our way.

For a week, I’ve been practicing my bowling stance and steps in hopes that I would somehow skip ‘beginning bowler’ and just be a ‘great bowler.’

That’s fine. But, I see now that there’s a place for the beginner and in the middle-r, too. Same with grief. Some may be in the beginning, some, like me, may be in the middle.

The cool thing about that? There’s room for everyone, wherever we are.

I realized something else. If I was somehow an instantly awesome bowler in one week’s time, I would really miss out on some really amazing stuff.

We are bowling at a new to us bowling alley and don’t know anyone. Everyone there is really good at bowling. I am essentially the rookie. I get last place every week.

But, you know what? Almost everyone in that place has offered me kind words and bowling advice. Heck, last night, someone even brought some bowling shoes from home and gave them to me.

I’m learning. They’re teaching. And that rookie thing? It’s just an ice breaker. If I walked into a new place and was an excellent bowler, there’d probably still be stuff to talk about, but people like to help people, you know?

Same here, on this blog. I write about loss, you extend your hands.

Pretty cool.

Thank you.

Jessica

** all writing and photo is mine

Finding My Way

September 21, 2022September 30, 2022 / Jessica / 20 Comments

For weeks, I’ve been standing in an imaginary knee deep scenario, stuck. My knees aren’t really stuck, but my writing is.

My post about the fair was preceded the exact same morning with three hours of writing. The post I was working on contained the subjects of “I don’t know how to this!!! I don’t know how to write about loss one day and normal stuff the next.”

Those words did not flow out easily. I yanked and pulled and made them come out. They were about:

what it’s like to talk about loss and crying and missing someone, then not knowing how to change the subject

what it feels like to be stuck in not knowing how to be a carefree type of writer that now feels strapped to loss one minute then wanting to share about travel the next

about being a good writer like my great grandma, while at the same time, not knowing how to carry forward in this blog and feeling a bit vulnerable because I’ve shared a lot and don’t know how to continue writing

I did not hit ‘publish’ on that post. Instead, I hit the backspace button and erased every single word. Immediately afterwards, I wrote the post about the fair and sent it off into the world.

Why did I back the other post out?

It just didn’t feel right.

I couldn’t get the words to match what I wanted to say.

Bottom line: I’m trying to find my way in my writing. I am finding my way through loss. I just need to find my way somehow in both.

Thank you for reading. You’ve been so great in offering support during all this. I appreciate it so very, very much.

❤️ Jessica

*Squealer-I couldn’t find her last night,*
*but she found her way home*

** all writing and photos are mine

Balancing Grief

September 20, 2022 / Jessica / 18 Comments

Last week, I was gliding along pretty well, then, bam. Crying. Not crying, actually, but bawling was more like it. It was Tuesday and I was getting ready to fold laundry. I thought a song playing would be nice. So, I tried to think of one.

A song that my momma loved popped into my head. A minute passed and the tears gushed. They didn’t stop for 45 minutes.

On a Tuesday. In the laundry room.

That night, we had our 2nd bowling league night. My game was off. I couldn’t get my balance. My steps wobbled. My ball hugged the gutters. My score stayed low. My eyes fought tears.

In a bowling alley. With 40 other bowlers.

Grief does that. It interrupts steps. It unbalances the balanced. It shows up in a thought or dream. It cascades down on a quiet afternoon, in the middle of chores. It unleashes emotions that were once settled, into tears that are real and raw.

In August, I wrote a post called ‘A Half a Year Today.’ It was about my momma being gone a half a year already. A couple of days ago, when I re-added up on my fingers, I realized I was a month off! August wasn’t half a year ago, September is…

Time in parent loss is a bit like my wobbly bowling steps: all over the place. No wonder I couldn’t believe it had been 6 months, it had only been 5.

So far, it’s only Tuesday, this week is more light hearted. It’s smoother. Last week there were lotsssss of tears and missing her.

This week there’s still lots of missing her, but way less tears. That alone, feels like a more even distribution on the ‘getting through grief’ invisible scale.

What I’m learning is, bowling is all about balance and grief, for me anyway, has a sense of balance, too.

Missing someone starts to blend right into the every days. Missing someone, plus crocodile tears? That interferes with the rhythm.

Tonight, we bowl. My feet feel more solid already, whew!

Thank you for reading. I hope you have a wonderful day.

Jessica

*my bowling locker is my favorite number 22*

On Showing Up

August 16, 2022August 27, 2022 / Jessica / 23 Comments

There is this song that I love by Bon Jovi and I listened to it a bunch last week. It’s called “The Last Night.”

It talks about stepping up for somebody. Showing up. Being there, when things are tough. I love that on so many levels.

My parents were “show up” people. When I was suddenly in an ambulance and at the hospital in 2015, my dad left a meeting in Iowa at six o’clock the next morning, picked up my momma, and drove 5 hours straight to come to the hospital.

They modeled how to show up my whole life. When we had track meets, football games, basketball tournaments, band competitions, etc. all through school, they were in the stands at every one.

One time, a family friend was getting married and I didn’t want to go to the wedding alone. My parents drove 4 hours to meet me there.

They showed up. They were show up sort of people.

We had five years of infertility and baby loss. Guess who held my hands the entire time? That’s right, my parents.

When I finally got pregnant and stayed pregnant, I was put on bedrest. My momma came and stayed with me so my husband could work. I’m sure my dad missed her, but they showed up for me in that way.

March 16 this year, my momma wasn’t feeling quite right. They took her to her local hospital. We got a lot of big, devastating news when test results started trickling in.

Two days later, after being told to stay put until they had more information, I sat in my house, thinking about how my parents always showed up. So, what did we do?

We showed up for them.

My husband rearranged his work schedule. We packed bags quickly. We drove nine hours. We showed up at her Nebraska hospital room and we stayed for three days.

I have often heard that kids model what they see their parents do. I’m so happy my parents were show-er upp-ers. They were a team. They just came.

I’ve carried that with me through my life. Friend having a hard time? I show up with food. Someone sick? I try to support them in some way. Friend have a baby? I send gifts.

When my great aunt Esther turned 100 and 102, my boy and I drove eleven hours to be at her parties. Guess who else was at those parties! My parents!

Last week at my dad’s, I told him about how much it’s always meant that they showed up for us and for things, just because that’s what they did and that’s who they are.

The next day,, while there, I found a letter that my grandpa had written them in 2007. It was about how happy he was that my parents showed up for him and took care of him when he was sick.

When he had a sale before he moved, he talked about how my parents helped him. He goes on about how he noticed that when he needed them, they came. He wrote, “it was Diane-Lyle all the way.”

I can’t even tell you how much that makes me smile and how much I love that.

What a legacy to carry forward. They showed up for me. I show up for my son and someday he’ll show up for his kids. How cool is that?

Thank YOU for being here, too. You’ve shown up for me through my rambling posts about travel, sprinkled with crying posts about my momma. You comment on my carefree posts and on the tear-jerkers.

You don’t waver. You show kindness and compassion. It’s noticed and it’s not forgotten. Like I appreciate my parents, I appreciate my readers. With all my heart, thank you.

Jessica

*part of grandpa’s letter:*
*“Diane-Lyle all the way”*

The Counting of Blessings

August 15, 2022August 27, 2022 / Jessica / 19 Comments

Every morning I take a picture of my son while he sleeps. Sometimes it’s a foot sticking out of the quilt. Sometimes it’s his hand, fingers intertwined, and sometimes it’s his sweet closed eyes and dreaming face.

Why?

Because moments are fleeting.

Sure, we know. We’ve heard that before. But in this season of losing my momma, the rate at which time passes has come front and center.

Years go by in a blink. Pregnancy, toddler, ten year old, teen. I try to embrace these moments of motherhood. I can’t make time stand still, but a photo can. So, each morning, I take a picture so I can remember daily moments years from now.

This grief journey brings light to a lot of things. People have stepped up and into this mess of blurred-between-the-lines-moments that accompany loss.

On one of my posts, Jenna, who blogs at The Painted Apron, commented something that has stuck with me since.

She said, “I handle my grief every day by counting the blessings I do have.”

The part that climbed into my pocket?

every day

Not some days. Not just on Tuesdays. Not just on sunny days. Not just on anniversary days. Not just on holidays. Not just on ‘we miss the person so much’ days.

every day

“handle my grief every day”

For me, this is quite profound. There are a lot of books out there and tons of advice floating around about grief. I’ve been through loss before. I’ve always thought that it was just this thing that takes about a year to get over.

But everybody I know, that’s endured huge loss has said: you don’t, get over it.

Recently, I was so very homesick. I hadn’t seen my dad since my momma’s life celebration, so my son and I went to see him.

One evening, we went to a yard sale. I spotted some books and stepped over to take a look. Several caught my eye, including this one:

Immediately, Jenna’s words came to mind: “counting the blessings I do have.”

There were two identical books. I bought them both. Inside, there are daily spaces to fill in and also, longer writing prompts.

*the inside of a gratitude book I bought*

*another writing prompt in the book I got*

I’ve been a ‘counter of blessings’ person for many years, the concept of this isn’t new. I’ve also written ‘thankful lists’ randomly here and there. They, like the pictures of my son, seem to capture a moment in time.

Time in loss is a bit tricky. The more time goes by, they say, the more healing. But the more time that goes by, the longer it’s been since I’ve seen my momma.

Also, in the months just past loss, the days whiz by. If I’m not noticing the miracles that lie in them, how will I remember them?

I think I will fill these books up. Maybe it’ll be with my family’s laughs and smiles, my dad’s hugs, or my momma’s memories.

Thank you, Jenna, for the reminder that being grateful in all of this is still ok.

Thank you for reading.

Jessica

Different But the Same

July 30, 2022August 27, 2022 / Jessica / 30 Comments

Being at my parent’s house feels wonderful to my heart. As soon as we pulled in the driveway, the ache of being homesick subsided. It came to a screeching halt. There, H O M E.

Familiar, especially after loss, feels like a peace I can barely describe. It’s almost as if bouncing around in the tides of grief for the past four months has calmed a bit.

The house is the same. The yard is the same. The closets, the kitchen, and the flowers outside are the same. The sun rises in the same place. The stars grace the same sky.

But, you know what’s different? The calendar. It’s nearly August now, so it’s not any of or all of the months before March. My momma passed in March…

Home is different, but the same.

It’s comforting. It’s meals. It’s cookies baking in the oven. It’s birds on the feeder and grapes on the vine. It’s trees full of apples and peaches. It’s magazines and puzzles my momma loved. It’s sunsets on the back porch. It’s corn rows by the yard. It’s my dad’s old tractor.

It’s this and that all mixed together in times of past and present. People always say to me that they can’t imagine my loss. Amen to that, I can’t imagine I’m walking this path either, but here I am. And, this week, I’m grateful to be home.

Thank you for reading.

Jessica

From Crying to Laughing

July 14, 2022 / Jessica / 11 Comments

Notice anything strange about this picture?

Remember that weird tornado-thingy that hit our back yard and only our backyard on Sunday?

Well, for two days I have been wondering where one chair cushion was. It was not back by the pool with the other ones. It wasn’t in the backyard anywhere.

Yesterday when I went to the mailbox (in our front yard by the road) I looked over at that tree and saw something red in it.

Sure enough, about twelve feet up in our pear tree was that cushion!!! Remember how all of our pool floats were across the road? I guess the cushion hit the branches instead.

We still don’t know what happened. I can tell you that when I saw the backyard on Sunday, I burst out crying. However, when I saw the cushion parked in the tree, I laughed out loud.