Yesterday we stayed put. Four days a week at least, we are somewhere else besides home, so staying at home was a treat.
After walking twenty two driveway laps, I ventured around the yard in search of something to photograph. The zinnias we planted for my momma and a tree with bright orange berries seemed like a good place to be.
Even the swing set seemed to sing, with its dark green slide and seats. Most of our yard has taken on a tan-brown view because of endless droughts this year.
Other shots are somewhat random, but I like how they turned out. It’s funny what can make a great photograph sometimes.
red zinnia we planted for my momma
still beautiful while going to seed
close up of a garden stone
swings with a pop of green
bright orange berries
Squealer on the slide
sparkly rocks in the flower bed
EMPTY on purpose bird feeder because we have cats who like birds…
Today we are off again on grand adventures that include decorating a float for an upcoming Christmas parade. With cooler temperatures, I will be including long johns and a coat, ha ha.
Hope you have a wonderful Friday. Thanks for being here.
I’m a sappy mess when I leave my parent’s house. I’ve always been. I’ve cried nearly every time I’ve left their house for, well, most of my life. Wayyyyyy before my momma passed.
For years, they’d stand in the doorway or on the porch, waving and watching as I pulled away and I cried for miles.
This afternoon, my son and I will start making our way south and east. It’s 8 hours up here to my dad’s. We’re going to split the trip and stay overnight half way. Then, home tomorrow for bowling.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my home, too. I don’t mind going home, even. It’s just the leaving here that starts the waterworks.
If you’ve lost one parent, you may understand this need to want to see and be with the other one. It’s such a gift to be here. I thought I’d have my momma 20 more years. As they say, ‘time is not promised.’
For my miracles and gratitude today, I’m going to share my momma’s flowers. She LOVED flowers. All kinds- wildflowers, roses, irises, morning glories, and more.
Miracles and Gratitude Day 8:
flowers in my parent’s yard
my momma’s zinnias
our roses
mom’s yellow rose
our zinnias
I’m grateful for these past few days. There’s miracles all around.
Feel free to share your gratitude and miracles if you’d like. What I’m beginning to see is, the more days I do this, the more miracles show up.
I am absolutely, totally, and completely grateful for my dad!!!!!
He and mom were married 55 years when she passed in March 2022. I’m just SO thankful that I still have my dad. My boy and I are going to see him on Thursday. He lives 8 hours from us.
2. Washer and dryer
Can you imagine having to wash clothes in a creek every single day???
3. Leftovers
My husband made shrimp stir fry on the grill yesterday, so no cooking for me today!
Miracles:
Eyesight that sees color!
a glorious yellow
a sweet purple
I walked 22 more driveway laps this morning and went back out in the pasture. The yellows and purples are so pretty right now.
Please join in, if you’d like. I’d love to hear what you’re grateful for and what miracles are showing up for you.
Hope you have a great Monday!
Jessica
P.S. I’ve only gotten a few chigger bites so far! Woo hoo!
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.
Six months ago today my momma made her heavenly trek. Six months? Where the heck did half a year go?
Sometimes it feels like half a second and sometimes it seems like an eternity since I’ve seen her. My eyes get all gushy with tears when I think of that.
I have learned a lot about myself and the capacity of others, in the days since.
Others have stepped up and shown up. In the beginning, there were cards, flowers, food, visits, hugs, gifts, and prayers.
As time went on, there were check in’s, texts, “how are you doing’s”, comments on blog posts, and hand holding.
Still, there is hand holding and support.
I don’t have many friends who have lost their moms, so in a way, I’ve had to go first. In the beginning, I leaned hard on the ones who’ve traveled this road before I did.
One friend in particular held me up, before my momma even passed, through the services, and afterwards. She’d been there. She’d lost her momma, too. Miles apart, she gave me the strength to keep on walking.
So, here it is, the anniversary day. I find myself reflecting on some of the hardest days I’ve ever had to go through.
Did I want to or was I prepared to lose my momma? Heck no.
Beginning to end, it was 10 days.
Am I over it? Heck no.
Will I ever be? No clue.
But, here I am, doing it.
I thought I’d share some of my personal insights, in case you’re in parent loss or are supporting someone who is:
parent loss feels like it’s own kind of grief
when loss is sudden, it can feel very hard to understand
for me, understanding all of the medical stuff didn’t happen until a few months later
the shock can be huge
grief shows up when it wants to
sometimes tears will fall in public places
the missing can feel like an ache
music can kick up memories
laughing and stories about them can help fill up the heart space
being with family was critical for me in the beginning because they “got it”
it’s a hard reality that there will be no more texts, calls, visits
suddenly the last gift received becomes sacred, there won’t be anymore
hearing about other people’s moms, in the beginning, was sooooooo hard when I suddenly didn’t have one
the ‘firsts’ of the first year can be heart-crushing: birthdays, holidays, special day, even anniversaries
getting used to not having them here is tough
This grief journey has certainly been a process. Here are some things I’ve learned about myself so far:
I am stronger than I ever gave myself credit for.
This grief has never been just about me and my loss. I have been able to support loved ones through this, too.
I understand now, how to help friends through similar things. I mean, I tried to before, but now I truly get it.
Writing about it is ok. Talking about it is ok. Reaching out to friends about it is ok. Sitting in it is ok. Working through it is ok. It is ok.
I will be ok. That sounds tiny, but in parent loss, it’s enormously huge.
Some of you that have lost your moms have reached out and told me you think of them every day. Same here. I think of my momma daily.
Here on the ‘reminder day’ that she passed, it’s no different. In fact, the blessing in that is, today I’ll probably think of her more. There’s a grace in that, you know?
I was told that grief can happen suddenly in random public places. It’s true.
For example, the first month after my momma passed, I was in the chiropractor’s office and saw a woman about my momma’s age at the counter. Suddenly, in that brief second, I realized that my beloved momma would never be at a counter again. I silently cried.
Seems like that happens, you know? The reminders can appear out of the blue on some random day, at some random place.
Like, yesterday. We took a road trip and ended up at a new-to-us restaurant. There was a 20 minute wait, so we sat by the door.
Pretty soon, a group of women started heading out the door. A few went out, while one would hold the door for more coming. They looked to be about my momma’s age.
I could not contain the waterworks. Cheeks wet. In a restaurant. On a Saturday.
What’s the big deal? Well, you see, my momma was a part of a group similar to that. She and her besties from high school stayed friends through the years. They traveled together, ate together, and hung out together.
Seeing the group of women was like the scene from the chiropractor’s office. A sudden realization that she’s not here and won’t be out to eat with her besties again.
A few minutes after they left, my cheeks dried.
We were seated, placed our order, and I glanced around the room. Nearby was a couple, about my parent’s age. She had beautiful clothes, short gray hair, and when she smiled at me, there went my tears, at the table.
I tried to contain them, I mean, who wants to see a woman crying at a restaurant? I gently wiped my face, thought of something else, and turned my attention to the baseball game on the tv.
The reality that hit? My parents won’t be eating at a restaurant again. That my momma, with her short gray hair and fancy clothes she loved, won’t be offering her smile to a family sitting nearby or to me, again.
I can tell you this, I had zero intentions of walking into a place to eat and crying. It was not on my agenda and I never would’ve guessed it.
It happened anyway.
The couple left and we are about done eating, when a young gal sat down at a nearby table. She was alone and was writing. It brought to mind a movie I’d seen where a music writer sat in a diner, writing.
She had a kindness to her. She complimented my son’s shoes and shirt. She smiled my way, often. It reminded me of that saying, ’you may be entertaining angels unaware.’
My husband and son went outside while I waited for the check. After a moment of silence, she spoke to me.
“You have a beautiful smile. It lights up the whole room.”
Huh? What? ME??? Me, who had been trying to hold back tears for an hour?
I thanked her. Like, poured on the thanks. Then, I continued to wait for the check.
I paid, got up to leave, and found myself pausing at her table. I told her that I’d lost my momma recently and that I’d had tears while there. Clearly, I was surprised she noticed my smile.
I was met with complete grace and understanding. If compassion could be bottled, the run over would’ve been making a puddle on her table.
It’s not that she knew what I was enduring there, but it was that she understood it. She mentioned a significant loss herself a few years ago. She told me I have a beautiful family.
I didn’t even see it until just now. Here I was, noticing women my momma’s age, because I lost my momma. And, maybe she was noticing me and my family, because she lost her husband…
Oh my goodness, the tears today, I think I’ll just let them run.
If you have gone through any sort of loss, my heart goes out to you.
This blog was started in 2015. Mostly its been filled with some nature photographs, some lessons on acquired wisdom, and things about family.
Lately, my writing feels somewhat scattered. A post on this, a post on that, then bam, a post about my momma.
What I am figuring out is, grief is not linear.
It doesn’t start on such and such day then make a straight line to an end date. Mine, anyway, feels like more of a zig zag or perhaps like some winding mountain road. Calm on the straight aways, yet intense on the curves.
Another thing I’m learning is, the path of losing someone isn’t all encompassing. Sure, in the beginning it can feel like that. It did for me. At that time, every passing moment was a reminder that my momma wasn’t here.
Now though, instead of grief being a constant aching, it comes more sporadically. One moment fine, the next moment tears. Two days fine, the next one tears. Like waves.
Oh my gosh, waves. For weeks I’ve been trying to remember a song my momma loved. It just now came to me: ”Wave on Wave” by Pat Green.
Now that I think about it, mountain roads and waves have something in common: they go back and forth. They have this beauty and calmness that seem to balance out even after rockslides and storms.
Maybe life is similar. Maybe writing is, too. Maybe instead of me thinking my words have to be all organized into a certain category, I could just let them show up, whenever and however they do.
My back field is full of thorns, stickers, and stumps. Some spots are a mess to walk through. Sometimes my skirt gets snagged and my ankles get scratched. Hmm… that sounds a bit like grief.
But, you know what? My back field is also full of wildflowers and there’s a doe and her baby living back there, even in all those stickers and even in all those weeds.
Perhaps me writing all this on a random Sunday morning is a reminder that the beauty in my writing will prevail, even if the subject matter is out of order and things feel messy.
And, maybe it’s even a reminder, that there can be a beautiful-ness in grief, too. Not on the wind raging, hail filled days, of course, but maybe in the quiet, “a memory brings a smile days.”
What I’m going to do is just trust my writing. Scattered posts or not. I see now that the switchbacks can allow for some amazing scenery and the waves can bring solace.
Thank you for being here.
Jessica
some curvy Forest Service road
a blurry wildflower from my land and CoCo the kitten
Queen Anne’s Lace standing out among the stickers and thorns
You know how sometimes it just feels good to get out of the house? That was us today. So, after running some errands, we ventured north for some river time.
There is a Forest Service area on the Current River, about seven miles from our house. We got lucky and had the place to ourselves. Our only company was some minnows and a little frog.
the most I saw the sun all day
a near perfect rock heart I found
if you look close you can see a frog down and to the right of the top green leaf
Long lasting marriages are something I’ve grown up seeing. One set of my grandparents were married 52 years, when my grandma passed. The other set was married 73 years when my grandpa passed away.
That is quite a legacy. Almost 2 lifetimes in the number of years alone.
If you’ve read my posts lately, you know I recently lost my momma. My parents were married just shy of 55 years, when she passed.
Today my husband and I are celebrating our 23rd wedding anniversary. We were married on an Ozark mountain top and there were yellow flowers everywhere. It was absolutely beautiful. Mom was my maid of honor and she wore a yellow dress.
When I considered the first year of ‘hard firsts’ without my momma, I never considered our anniversary as being one of them. I think it is though, because I sure am missing her today.
I thought I’d share some wedding pictures from that day with you, just because.
Thank you for reading. Hope you have a great Sunday.
On this day, in 1946, my momma was born in an old farmhouse in rural Iowa. Oh how I wish she was here to celebrate this day, but life has taken us on an unplanned, unwanted journey.
You see, unexpectedly, she passed away at the end of March. April brought my parent’s 55th wedding anniversary and Easter. May brings Mother’s Day and her birthday.
For a week, I’ve been trying to figure out how to do a birthday without somebody. She had me when she was 21, so there’s been many years of gift making, card buying, and such for me. Her loss brings all those traditions to a halt.
So, here it is, THE day.
What I’ve decided to do is plant wildflowers. I picked out a place in my yard that’s not a ‘front and center stage’, but more of a ’come and sit for a bit.’ It’ll get plenty of sun and moonlight. Oh, how my momma loved the moon.
The lines are blurred about who started our love for wildflowers first. Years ago, I remember pointing out all types of them on the roadways when we traveled. Perhaps I sparked an interest for her, but it could’ve been the other way as well.
She grew wildflowers in her yard and would show them to me every summer. My, how she loved them. Seeds to colored brilliance is a miracle in itself.
For her services, I made wildflower seed envelopes for people to take. The sign I made read, ”She loved flowers. Let’s plant some.” Love the idea of people growing flowers to think of her, too.
My back pasture is in it’s gorgeous summer bloom. Daisies, wild roses, and more adorn my walking path. What a joy to see them there, especially today.
If there’s such a thing as heavenly birthdays, I hope today is a big celebration there. My family and I surely do miss her.
Here’s to wildflowers and birthdays. Time for me to go plant some!
Unmeasured Journeys 