I went to Josh's sixth birthday party this afternoon and I don't know if he and Isaac are aware of how very blessed they are. In the room was his Gammy, Gramma, Grand Nessa and one great grandmother, Nana.
And while I'm talking of his party, Josh gets first prize for being equally enthusiastic and excited over every single gift. I happen to know for a fact that the first gift he opened (From Grand Nessa and Papa) happens to have been the top item on his wish list. Did he stop there and let all else fall aside? No. That child emceed his own birthday party and exclaimed and 'sold' every single gift he received from that moment on. No one felt they'd done less than bless him because he made sure of that! And his happiest moments were when the gifts he opened included a second item that could be shared with Isaac. I know he's my grandson, but he really is extraordinary.
Tucked away on TheGardenersCottage.blogspot.com :
"I overheard someone talking the other day and she said "I didn't get any of the big things in life I wanted but I got enough small things to sustain me." I get that."
Please allow me to take that as my mantra. I am forever going on about how unfair things have been and how I have missed out. But there are lots and lots of things I got that I never expected to have: a lovely home of my own, a truly good man to spend the mid years of my life with, children, grandchildren, an opportunity to vicariously live my dreams of being a writer and a teacher. Not one of those things I expected to have, and I shall say that truly that aren't 'small' but I tend to forget that they aren't small.
Random happy memory time. I was in a dark place last week and needed comforting and suddenly I recalled a day at Granny's. I'd guess I was about six, possibly a little older or even younger. What I remember: It was raining and winter because the big kerosene heater was on. The room was just warm enough and I was playing with my baby doll in a corner near the scratchy blue green fabric covered chair and I was as content as I could be in my corner with my baby tending to her needs. Granny was reading in the rocker. The boys were playing in another area of the living room. I remember looking up and feeling a deep seated sense of contentment and utter happiness because that day was about perfect as far as I was concerned. I felt loved, secure and complete.
I can't tell you how comforting that memory was to me. The world has seemed to be a very dark place of late and one that I no longer know or recognize. As well, I'm dealing with a long ongoing family issue that seems to only get worse and worse with each passing day. But for that day, that long ago forgotten memory was a great comfort and brought me peace.
Grief is a funny thing, triggered often enough by events or seasons rather than memories. I've been missing Granny fiercely of late. And why shouldn't I? It was about this time I saw her last in 2011. That was the day she didn't know me at all, but some little flicker of memory came to her as she sat in front of "The Golden Girls" and Maude asked Rose if she'd like a cup of coffee and Granny turned and saw me and I knew in that moment she knew me. I said "I miss having morning coffee with you." She nodded and whispered, "I miss it, too." Then just as quickly as she'd found me she lost me. Her eyes glazed. She looked confused and looked away, back to the tv and I sat with her until the program ended and then got up and left. I couldn't bring myself to go back. Just two weeks later she was gone from life entirely.
So here I am today, having a pity party that I had no inclination to attend, weeping off and on and anxious as can be, loathing myself and then I realized that it's not what I haven't had that I want most of all but what I once had. A mentor, a friend, a kindred spirit, a loved one, a faith filled prayer warrior, a source of peace and a sage who is here no longer. And so I grieve, unaware that I was grieving until I knew. No better than funny little Josh who wept as we walked past her house one day "I miss her!" he'd cried and I'd laughed because he'd never even known her, was not even a twinkle in the eye of his father when she died, but I comforted him best I could telling him how delighted she would have been to spend time with him and how she would have loved getting to know him and Isaac and Taylor and Caleb and Millie.
I did know her and I had the privilege of knowing her all through my childhood years and all through my life until I reached 52. I'd known for years what a lovely gift I'd been given to have her all that time. Her spiritual wisdom was such that she never made you feel anything less than buoyed up. Sometimes, she said nothing at all to the troubles poured out to her and sometimes she did give advice, sound advice that rang with true wisdom, but either way I went away comforted and at peace.
I wouldn't drag her back to life for anything because if anyone ever went to heaven it was herself, of that I am sure. But I do grieve for what I've lost in not having her in my life any longer. I'm just always surprised to find how deep that grief is still.
And then another night recently I dreamed of my brother, the one who took his life in June...He was a big man, very tall and broad but in my dream he might as well have been Goliath in size. He picked me up and held me up to his height and we both laughed and laughed in delight at one another's joy in seeing each other again. In life, we had a sometimes non existent relationship due to circumstances that had nothing to do with he and I but interference from another. Over the last years of his life, we did attempt to have some relationship with each other but it wasn't enough. He's been gone for 20 years now but there he was in my dream, larger than life and full of happiness. I'm glad if he found peace in resting that he never found on earth.
For the record, I realize that June just might be a month in which I allow myself a wee bit more grace to be in a bad headspace now and then. It's rife with birthdays and death dates. Really a mixture of joy and sorrow.
Just because I'm thinking of the garden I dream of one day having, I watched this video which is lovely.
This song...It's one of my favorite shows anyway but this song is so lovely and bittersweet and...Oh just go listen! It's the first song played on the video.
Feeling discontented with our life is normal. But Frugal Girl makes a very valid point:
To be jealous of someone’s seemingly problem-free life is to be jealous of something that does. not. exist.
No one in this broken world has the unbroken life we all long for, and adjusting my expectations accordingly is helpful.
These words are wisdom.
And then Jenny of Elephantz shared this post about her latest quilt block from Psalm 23, Thou anointst my head with oil..." It spoke volumes to me today and I'm going to re-read a few more times and maybe even print it off because it was something I very much needed to hear.
3 comments:
Aww Josh is so sweet. I'm glad he had a nice birthday.
Life is surely not fair, but I have been blessed in so many ways, and it sounds like you have been blessed too. This world is full of hurting people. Have you heard the song, Give me your eyes by Brandon Heath? It makes me cry every time.
And I'm not usually a bluegrass fan, but I really like There is a time...
Hope that July will be a better month.
Kathy I'll look that song up.
I've been missing my loved ones a LOT lately.. One day I glanced out the window and saw a maroon van go by and I got excited that my sister was surprise visiting me.. only she has been gone for 2 years now.. and I'm having good memories of trips my hubby and I took our kids on ( he has been gone for 28 years ) and then every day I miss my mom's phone calls.. twice a day she would phone me.. she said it was to make sure I was not laying on the floor in a diabetic coma.. LOL Not sure how she would know that over the phone.. so little memories make me smile, make me sad and sometime bring on tears.. it is all part of life.
I miss my daughter more and more every day as well. That is the hardest as she took her own life and that hurts me deeply.
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