Thursday, October 31, 2019

This Farm is a Mess

I used to read a picture book called This Farm is a Mess to my kids. I don't remember the story exactly but this morning it comes to mind. Often my blog entries are upbeat and positive even when dealing with grief, disappointment or challenges. I do not feel upbeat or glass half full this morning.I advised a friend the other night to journal her days whether good or bad to put words to her feelings and also to be able to look back and see accomplishment and survival on days she wasn't sure she could get through. I expect I'll get through this day but in the heavy rain and dark sky everything seems nasty.I have complained about turkey poop before and turkey poop is still a problem.I know turkey poop is not life threatening, not as terrible as California fires , war torn countrysides or terminal disease but this morning turkey poop represents all that is wrong on this farm.I am often quoted saying" I can't have nice things". Now I do know I have many nice things, I have a loving husband , wonderful kids and grand kids, great family and friends. I have a comfortable home, work I love, food to eat and so on and so on.I can usually put the blessings in the forefront and block out the messiness of my life. But on days like this I am reminded that the mess has to be confronted sometime. Enough is enough. Keep the damn turkeys off my new verandas.

Tuesday, October 22, 2019

For the Love of Scotland

I am sitting in my office in my home on the Walton Lake Road and am happy to be there. But part of my heart stayed in Craobh Haven, a small village in Scotland. Last night I spent some time looking at the self catering cottages we walked by many times during our time spent at Lunga House. My dream is to return and feel the wonder of that place again. I will reach out to the dear friends we made in those September days and entertain the possibility of going back. We mentioned as we parted the impossibility of truly going back to the exact factors that made those days so magical. But just returning to the place would be a start. Walking again down the winding road to the Lord of the Isles and sitting on the wide cement deck gazing out the the stunning views and serene marina would be a start. Venturing up the hill to visit Ian's gardens, popping over to see the progress Andy is making on the structure built around an ancient water wheel, strolling down to the shore and enjoying the company of good friends could happen if we wanted it to.This beautiful country and country side has now found its way into my heart and it will be hard to ignore that.Today I will go to the work I started there. I will spend time with the characters I discovered while writing in the strong sunshine sitting on a stone bench on the sprawling lawns of Lunga house. I will return and find that magic again.

Sunday, October 20, 2019

On This Sunny Day

On this day I will be OK. I will take this day as the gift it is . I will do what I do and it will be enough. I will gaze out the window at the sunny hills their trees ablaze with color. I will cook a turkey that used to roam and flutter and squawk in our yard . I will clean a bit and organize taking pleasure in my home and my blessings. Thanksgiving will carry on from last weekend to this and I will allow thanksgiving to be my mantra. Thankful for family, for strong and steady fathers , for years of family and home, for daughters, granddaughters, grandsons and sons, for friends and community, for elderly friends who gave story and memory and her journal writing to so many, for harvest and good food, for promise and purpose, for time and lists of possibility, for days to be OK after difficult days, for wood road walks to look up at the sky and let it all fall into place. This day I will be OK .

Thursday, October 17, 2019

Another Grey Day

Yesterday was a clear, sunny, beautiful Autumn day. From start to finish it was a day that was all about my Dad with my amazing sister in law thrown in,in the company of my kids, grand kids and my loving husband. The funeral service to celebrate the life of Leverett Bradley was lovely from start to finish. Friends and family gathered and paid tribute to a Godly man. I swelled with pride that the man they spoke of was my Dad. I was able to say a few words myself despite my prediction of not being able to put two words together.This morning I feel such relief that yesterday is behind me while knowing the days and months ahead of living without Dad will be the real challenge. I do have confidence though that we will find our way through it. But today , a grey, windy, wet day brings another sorrow. Today we celebrate the life of Gladys Marjorie Titus. Gladys has become a dear friend and I am so grateful for the time we spent together in the last year. I began Wednesdays with Gladys last November and for the most part visited her every week. What a treasure trove of stories she shared with me.She was struggling with her fear of dying , her declining health but her vivid memory of her rich past never faltered. She is the last of her siblings but leaves behind fifty five descendants all of whom she carried in her mind and heart knowing every birth date and every important event in their lives. She kept a death book and made sure Leverett Bradley was added in her last days even as she lay dying herself. The spot she reserved for herself with the instruction to be filled in later will now have her name , her death date and age. It is impossible to say just how huge this woman's influence reaches. Her descendants mourn her and feel the deep effect her life has had on theirs. They will gather today and give her the send off she deserves. I will be on the periphery mourning her loss in my life and saying goodbye to a dear friend ; a friend who was present at six of my book launches and will no doubt be present in most if not all of my future writing. Thank you Gladys Marjorie Titus.

Sunday, October 13, 2019

Grey Days Amid Autumn Splendor

It is a weariness like none other ; a bone and brain tiredness that doesn't seem to budge even after a good night's sleep. I look at my eyes in the mirror and see the exhaustion. Tears seep to the surface with no bidding. Today I face the task of going through stacks of photographs and choosing the perfect ones to fill storyboards for the funeral parlor and to be put on a video loop set to selected songs and music. My brothers and I have bandied about ideas of who might do Dad's eulogy. Last year Ken and I both knew right away we wanted to speak at Mom's funeral and our big brother, the minister was doing the service of course. With Dad it felt different for some reason. I think for me part of that is due to this weariness I feel. I somehow doubt I could put one word in front of the other let alone put the effort into finding the right words ahead of time. Now for me the writer , the one so willing to share emotion and sometimes being accused of having diarrhea of the mouth, this seems unusual.But it is how it is this time. I have nothing to say. I have lots to feel though and will always feel deeply the love and support of an amazing father. He is in the core of my being and has shaped who I am. Despite my somewhat rebellious life I lived everyday in the shadow of his approval. He was nonjudgmental, kind and forgiving. He had genuine values and he was a man of integrity. Today I will gaze at pictures of the man who was my Dad . I will file each photo in my heart and allow the thankfulness for his eighty nine years on this earth to strengthen me for the days ahead. I know I will recover from this deep exhaustion and days will look brighter again. But on this grey day I will mourn and rest and remember.

Thursday, October 10, 2019

Deep Breaths, Tears and Laughter.

Oh boy! On this beautiful October day I have some breathing to do, some tears to cry and some words that need writing. There is no possible way I could cram the last month into one entry and I am not even sure all of it will be written but it will be processed. I will walk my wood road where I can freely talk to myself. I will reread my journal and in quiet moments I will reflect on all the blessings, the gifts, the challenges and the difficulties this last month provided. I will relish my at home time and breathe in deeply the joy of home, friends and family. I will remember so much and let lots of things go. I will speak words out loud and write words down and feel words inside not always allowing them to escape. On Tuesday I was boiling over with anger , an emotion I don't often have to subdue and I am glad no humans were harmed .That anger lifted when I was able to look into my Dad's blue eyes and see the recognition and love they have always offered me. I was so afraid that my absence would rob me of that gift and even though not many words were exchanged I felt the assurance that all that needed saying had already been said on our brief exchange a week before and in my almost 63 years of being his daughter. Yesterday Dad spoke no words to me and only opened his eyes for a brief moment and the light was gone from them. He had packed his lunch and was ready to go. Just like he had been all his life once the plan was made he put the wheels in motion to carry them out. He had let go of all concerns for the future , he had found comfort in the memories of the past and he accepted his final journey. His strong body shut down and he peacefully took in his last breath . We stood by his bedside and watched him go.So now we take breaths, we carry on, we remember and celebrate and we keep giving and loving until it is our time to leave.