Lent

So many people talk about what to give up for Lent.  My religion doesn't require that we give up anything for Lent, but one year I gave up worrying.  A lot of folks laughed about it until I told them that when I went to worry, I would talk to God, which really was the whole purpose of giving something up for Lent -- gaining a closer relationship with God.  It was probably one of the best things I had done.

This Lent Season comes around and I see a lot of posts on Facebook about giving up sweets, coffee, chocolate . . . I could give up exercise and it wouldn't hurt my feelings one bit.  But that's not what it's all about.  On my way to my latest exercise hobby - belly dancing (that's really a whole new post, isn't it??) I pass by a church that has this sign out front:

Cherish your yesterdays.
Dream your tomorrows.
Live your todays.

This Sunday, our Pastor preached on Philippians 3:114-14:

But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, ¹⁴ I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

I like that.  A lot.  I am not one to necessarily dwell on the past, but it's there.  All the good, bad and ugly.  I try to tell my kids, no regrets.  Your past is part of who you are.  It's what's molded you and formed you.  You are going to make mistakes.  You are going to goof up.  Sometimes, really big.  I've done really big goofs and mistakes.  Really big.  And sometimes, they rear their ugly heads and haunt me.  And I have to remember -- no regrets.  I am who I am because of the decisions I've made, mistakes and successes both.  Both have shaped me.  Do I like myself now?  In spite of all those mistakes?  Yeah, pretty much.  (I think that's an age thing, too, though).  Would I change what has happened in my past?  Hmm - maybe, but probably not.  I wouldn't be WHO I am today without what I did yesterday.  If I didn't like myself, I suppose that I would have to rethink this.  But I love deep, I am sensitive to issues where others may not be, I hurt when things cut too close to home and I get past hiccups and bumps in the road.   All because of what I've experienced.

This year for Lent, I think I will give up regrets.  I can't change the way things were, or what I've done in the past.  I can only fix what is now and what is to come.  And if I want to be a certain way in the future, I better live my todays by making better decisions, thoughtful decisions.  No regrets.  

By myself

I have been home, by myself, for the last four days.  There's a first time for everything.  Usually when Ken's gone, I've had the boys around.  Even when they were smaller, I always felt safe with them around.  This time it was just me.  I wanted to see if I could do it.  Living out here in the country, it's pretty quiet.  And secluded.  I made sure all the doors were locked each night.  And during the day for that matter.  Ken made sure that I could operate the gun proficiently enough to shoot in the vicinity of someone who was breaking in, should that happen.  It didn't.  And I survived.  He's on his way home now.  Should even be in Oregon, maybe . . . or just south of the border.  

I have learned a few things about myself while he's been gone; which is really what I wanted to experience.  I have learned that it's lonely without my best friend by my side.  I have learned it's cold in bed without him (even though the kitty tried valiantly to take his place).  I have learned that I can only watch so much Discover ID channel.  I have learned I sleep a lot more when there is no one to talk to or a reason to get up for.  I have learned that simply being quiet is different when there is someone to be quiet with.

Life is easier when there is someone to share it with.  I have a bit more respect for those who have lost their soulmate, their best friend.  It's a whole new way of life.  I pray that I don't have to figure it out any too soon!

A Duck Family Reunion

So, I like wildlife.  And we live out in the country, so I get to see a fair amount of the usual suspects - deer, birds, raccoons, possums, the occasional skunk, nutria, coyotes, and even spotted a rare (in these parts) cougar, several years ago when the boys were small.

We have a group of deer (I suppose I should call it a herd) that roam around the fields eating the yummy new shoots of whatever's been planted.  A couple of years ago we had a massive acorn season.  There were tons, literally TONS of acorns all around us.  On the driveway, the cars crush them open and the deer would actually come that close to the house to eat the acorns.  It was awesome.  We feed the birds and laugh as the squirrel hangs upside down on the deck eating the suet.

Ken and I have lived out here for as long as we've been married - 28 years this coming November.  It's been great.  It's quiet.  Peaceful.  And for the most part, fairly secluded unless you have binoculars and want to watch us from the road.  Since we've lived here, along our driveway runs a creek.  Every year we have ducks on the creek.  Now, I don't know if they are the same ones -- I am assuming not, since I don't think I've heard of ducks living 28 years before, but every year they come back in late winter/early spring.  Usually a pair or two or three.  They always fly up out of the creek when we drive by early in the season, but by mid-spring, they just paddle by because they are used to us driving by.  And when one of us spots the ducks for the season, we can't wait to share that information with the other one.

Today was cool beyond cool.  As I drove down the driveway to go work out, out flew not just one or two pair, or even three or four pair . . . today we had 26 ducks on the creek.  26!  I had to stop the car and count them twice.  I know they lay their eggs somewhere along the creek, or perhaps down more towards the pond where the creek ends, but we have never, EVER had that many at once on the creek.  I figure all the ducklings must have come home to roost this year.

I felt bad that I interrupted the Duck Family Reunion.  But honestly -- not really.  It was an awesome start to my day.  The ducks are back.  Spring is just around the corner!!

Some days

Ever notice how some days are just much more difficult than others?  I mean, from the moment you get out of bed, you pretty much know how your day is going.  Do you land on your feet first thing, or did you step on a dog?  Do you brush your hair, or have to find the brush on the floor after dropping it.  And, if you did drop your brush, did you notice that it just didn't fall conveniently at your feet, but it fell like a hundred yards away . . . or under something?  Then, finding your socks -- where did that favorite pair go?  Honestly, I got two pair just so I'd be lucky enough to find one pair when I really needed them.  So, some days are a struggle.  Now, I believe in God.  I don't always start my day talking to the Big Guy -- if I did, my days would probably be much smoother.  But, no, I prefer to do things the difficult way.  Today, I probably should have talked to God.

My sister died 3 months ago from lung cancer.  Yes, she was a smoker.  But, other than that, I always thought she was the healthiest one of all of us.  She watched what she ate (to the point of being anal about it).  She exercised.  She went to the doctor.  But it didn't matter.  Cancer got her like it gets so many other people in so many other families.  Today I pulled out the bag with the last of the thank you notes I was supposed to have written months ago.  I just couldn't bring myself to open the bag before today.  So, I did finish up the last of the thank you notes.  And the tears started.  And they have lurked just below the surface all day long.  I wrote a little in the book that we got about her life and her memorial.  But I couldn't finish it.  Not today.

I got together with my mom and my sister-in-law today.  We went quilt shopping.  For a while I was able to hold those tears at bay.  (I mean, retail therapy does have it's moments.)  Listening to my mom and my SIL talk kind of made it easier to ignore the sadness.  But since I've been home, there's not much to hear around here.  Ken had choir practice.  So while he was gone, I was in my "happy place".  That's what I call my sewing room.  There I can kind of put life away.  I can think about the project at hand.  That project involved putting together some pinwheels for a friend's wedding quilt.  Then I started cutting out my husband's sister's birthday present -- four placemats with shamrocks on them (her birthday is in March).  

I still haven't been able to shake the tears.  Shake the sad feeling deep in my heart.  I do miss my sister.  It's not fair.  It's not fair that we weren't close.  It's not fair that she's gone and left two kids behind.  It's not fair that my parents had to bury their daughter.  But most of all, it's just not fair that I don't have a sister anymore.  I don't have someone that is supposed to love me anyway.  And I don't have the chance to make it right.  I'll never have the chance to have a close sister.  I'll never have a chance to make it work like it's supposed to.  That hurts.  

I know that I should be thankful for what I do have.  But some days, well, some days I just need to dwell on what I don't have, what wasn't there, and what never will be there.

Tomorrow is another day.  I hope that I don't step on the dog, drop the brush and I do hope, beyond all hope, that I find that favorite pair of socks that will just make everything all right again.


God, thank you for another day.  Thank you for letting me feel these sad things.  Please, take them away from me tomorrow.  One day is all I can handle at once.  Amen.