All the Feels

 

I wasn’t sure what to title this or how to start. Right now I am typing on my chromebook as I listen to a virtual concert on my laptop.  I have been a subscriber to Garden and Gun for a number of years. Today as I read their email I found out there was going to be a virtual concert live tonight. I was able to pass the word along to people I thought might be interested, and then I settled in to listen and I’m having a grand time!

http://luckreunion.com/tilfurthernotice

 

This whole COVID-19 thing has brought with it a lot of different emotions.

Joy in the way people have pulled together for the good of all – like this free concert. I did donate a little because I was grateful for the entertainment and generosity of the musicians.

Disgust in the way people have gone crazy hoarding toilet paper, and more importantly, meat and potatoes. What are they thinking?

Gratitude for all who have been kind and offered help to others. Including advice on how to schedule the kids at home and stuff like that.

4:00, wallow in self-pity. 4:30, stare into the abyss. 5:00, solve world hunger, tell no one. 5:30, jazzercize; 6:30, dinner with me. I can’t cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing. I’m booked. Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9, I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness.” — The Grinch 

Community in the conversations I’ve had when I did venture out.  Like the woman in Aldi who was clearly trusting in Christ and we shared Bible verses with each other.  And the couple in Sprouts – the woman told her husband she was buying “Stress flowers” so I just started a conversation with them. Turns out they were from New Orleans and we agreed that this was worse than how people act when a hurricane is coming. Then there was the lady in the Dollar Tree who told me all about the psychic who predicted all this and then told me all about her bladder infection. I just listened and nodded until I could politely get away. I figured she’d been quarantined a bit and just need to talk.

Doubt about how all this has gone down. Something just doesn’t seem right.

Claude Lacombe:
Mr. Neary, what do you want?

Roy Neary:
I just want to know that it’s really happening.

From Close Encounters of the Third Kind

 

Misery is…

In perusing an old journal from the 1980s/early 1990s, I found some various things I’d written that must have come from some writing prompts somewhere. This one lists things that all happened for reals.

Misery is…

… getting up at night to use the bathroom and finding it occupied by a roach

…getting your hair cut and having your older brother call you “Shiny-Bald”

…having things go wrong and your older brother singing “Ninety- Nine Tears”

…having the class laugh when the teacher separates you from a boy for talking

…getting caught falling asleep in class by your chemistry teacher

…getting caught falling asleep in church

…as you walk out the door on your first date with a certain guy, your Dad says, “Have a good time, Puncie.”

…having a piece of a glass snake thrown down your blouse (again, the older brother)

…at age 10, opening the bathroom door to see what your older brother wants and then realizing you just took off the top piece of your swimsuit

 

THIS swimsuit

…having company arrive an hour early

…having your blow dryer go out

…running your hose as you step out the door

…gripping about the boss being late for a meeting, to find out it’s really a surprise shower for you.

Share your miseries in the comments below

I guess it’s a natural thing

 

I discovered Sean of the South this year and when I see see his name in my inbox every morning  I know I’m in for a good read on his blog.  He writes about everything, but a recurring theme is the loss of his dad when he was 12. He even mentioned that someone has said he talks about that too much. I don’t think so. It’s a part of him.

Grief touches us all in different ways. When my Dad died I grieved, but so much was going on in my immediate family that I didn’t really have time to stop and grieve. It hit me about eight or nine months later. Like a knock down punch.  Mom had been grieving in her own way. I remember she wasn’t eating enough at one point, then later it was the opposite – she was eating a lot of sweets which was unusual for her.

She also could not listen to music for a long time, because it always made her think of Dad. It was quite a while before she began playing the radio again.

This year for NaNoWriMo I’m attempting the family story once again. Last year I wrote about 23,000 words. This year I’m trying to redo it in the forms of verse and letters. So I’m reading/rereading the tons of letters I have here, from 1925-2015. Today I read a letter Mom wrote her sister, Billie, a month after their mother, my Mamaw, died in 1983.

“Seems like for the last couple of weeks I’ve had a delayed reaction to Mama’s dying. Can’t explain it, but I guess it’s a natural thing, I don’t know.” 

It really struck me all over how much I miss Mom. Lately I’ve found myself tearing up with an overwhelming feeling of loss. It just comes over me and I can’t control it. In three months it will be two years that she’s been gone. I know I’ve talked about it a good bit here; forgive me.

An afternoon in the woods

Yesterday I got off work early and was able to hike around at Moss Rock Preserve with Ruby before the sun set. At 4:51 pm. Blasted Daylight Savings Time.  The fall colors were absolutely  magnificent. The weather was perfect. The company was amicable.

I came across two brothers who were rock climbing while their mom took pictures and video. I watched a minute from the top of a boulder opposite the activity. The older boy was hoisting the younger one up with a rope and pulley system of some sort. My path crossed theirs a little later and they were still having fun.

As I approached the waterfall area I came across a man, younger than me I think, helping an elderly couple in their seventies to get down the rocky path along the waterfall. Which could hardly be called a waterfall, more a water trickle But, I digress. I could tell from the snatches of conversation I heard these people didn’t know each other. Just one person giving a helping hand.

Moss Rock – sun hasn’t set yet but moon is up

After I wandered around above the “falls” and crossed over, I sat a few minutes to just enjoy the scenery and let Ruby lap up some water. She started a little low growling as a man approached from behind, taking pictures. When he came into my sightline I saw he was wearing a Georgia Bulldogs shirt. I told Ruby he was not the enemy and then I told him I liked his shirt. That opened the door for a little conversation. He graduated from the University of Georgia ten years ago. We talked about different places to hike in the area and then I went on my way.

I came up on the elderly couple again and slowed my pace to stay behind them. Which was pretty slow since my pace is already slow. The man turned to me and began a conversation. His name is Bo, hers is Joan. He asked me where I go to church, then proceeded to tell me all about his.

Ruby and I then tried to get ahead of them by taking a different path but ended up right behind them again. No matter, we were almost back to the entrance.

Usually when I hike it’s pretty quiet. I hardly ever engage in a lot of conversation. But you never know. I’d much rather run into someone who wants to talk than to run into another copperhead snake.

 

 

 

Crossroads

Friendship Fountain

 

“It isn’t as though we were simply standing at the crossroads wondering what path we should take. It is more like we’ve been grabbed by the ear and dragged down a road we had never meant to travel.” – from On Reading and Writing Books for Children by Katherine Paterson

Mandarin Park

 

I can’t say I’m exactly standing at the crossroads. It’s more like I’m looking down the road and wondering what’s over that next hill and thinking, will this road lead me back home? And I (we)  weren’t exactly dragged down this road in the first place, but more like told this is where you are going and tried to go with great expectations. Perhaps those expectations were too great, or perhaps we have failed ourselves. I think it’s a bit of both. And so many deaths, some expected, some swift and unforeseen, have taken their toll on my heart. Now, I just want to go somewhere that feels like home.

 

They say that home is where the heart is

I guess I haven’t found my home

And we keep driving round in circles

Afraid to call this place our own

And are we there yet?

Are We There Yet? – Ingrid Michaelson

 

 

 

Our Lives Diverged

The prompt for PAD day 21 was to respond to another poem. This is my response/version of Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken

Our Lives Diverged

Our lives diverged one year in June
Something lovely died inside
Left behind with the quarter moon
The contents of my heart were strewn
And by the sun were crisped and dried

I took my lonely path back home
And tried to make the best of things
Oft times I’d go outside and roam
As if I traveled the catacombs
Yearning to leave on sprouted wings

Remembering that day, choices made
Words said could not be taken back
Footprints left where they had strayed
Promises died unconveyed
I doubted he’d ever come back

I’ll always recall this with a sigh
Relive it often in my dreams
Lives diverged under an aqua sky
You made the choice to go awry
Life isn’t always what it seems

A Lasting Marriage

A Lasting Marriage

 

Today’s PAD prompt is Last______. I recently saw a “Spine” poem and remembered what fun they are to compose. The technique is to just choose books from your shelf and put the spines together to form a poem. Like this…

A Lasting Marriage

Once upon a time
Silver wedding
Everyone but thee and me
The thread that runs so true
Joy in the morning
Love and laughter
A circle of quiet
Cuttin’ up
A fine balance
We are still married
Smiles to go

Below I’ve listed all the authors in order.

Debbie Macomber
Maeve Binchy
Ogden Nash
Jesse Stuart
Betty Smith
Marjorie Holmes
Madeleine L’Engle
Craig Marberry
Rohinton Mistry
Garrison Keillor
Jerry Spinelli

 

 

The Unexpected

When I take photos, I like to look through the view finder and not at the LCD display. I have discovered, however, that I never really know exactly how well I have hit my target or what else I may have captured until I upload the pictures to my computer. Often, what I thought was a great shot turns out blurry or has something distracting in the background that I didn’t notice before. But, sometimes, as in the picture above, I get something extra. I didn’t see the sun with six points, or the beautiful sparkles on the water.

Life is much like this. Sometimes what we think is going to be great just doesn’t turn out that way. But, sometimes, we are given a gift in an unexpected place or at an unexpected time. Those are the best gifts of all.