Stones

Stones come in many shapes and sizes. Some might be the shape of a heart, so they say. I had a friend that collected “heart-shaped-stones”. To be honest, some had absolutely no shape, but she swore they looked like a heart.

Stones can be rare and expensive; some simply used to hold something up. Who hasn’t etched their name on one or two? Who hasn’t received a stone from a child as a token of a valuable find?

I remember my brother’s grave-stone being placed. His picture was on it. As a young girl, I wasn’t really sure what I was feeling. The “first” big loss in our family…how to handle it? My voice had been muffled already, so I didn’t dare put my two-cents in the matter. Besides, his wife was making all the decisions in a way that spoke louder than words.

Now, it was me, making decisions…fast, furious, with no time to think; with every part of my being desiring to be far, far away from this place. BUT, the burial needed to take place AND the proper “embellishments” had to be ordered. The “cash-register” ringing, ringing, ringing. Every little detail had a price. Goodness, how taxing to an already heinous journey. In the fog of it all, one makes the best decisions attempting to not listen to the sales-pitches and the playing of ones emotions.

Nobody told me that a flat stone would be open to tractor tracks and scrapes. Nobody told me that it would be covered in dirt and mud, more often than I can to think. Nobody told me that the passing of time would make it sink deeper and deeper. NOBODY told me that the sight of this would make my heart hurt, if it were possible, even more than it already hurt.

Somewhere along the way, I decided that Angie’s flat grave-stone had to change. My already taxed emotions just couldn’t handle digging it out, one more time. We looked into a different kind of stone. “Well, of course we can change it – AT A PRICE!” was the response.

Yesterday, her new above-ground-stone was placed! AND this one has a picture on it.

Things that I never thought would be part of my life, are. Things that I would have never thought would bother me, do. Things that I never thought would make it a little easier, exist.

We are a Miracle

The day began in it’s normal way, nothing different about it. The seventeen year old moved around in a daze. This was the day. It didn’t feel different. It didn’t have all the pomp and circumstance she had seen or heard of. No saying, “yes to the dress.” No talks with mom in preparation of the big day. Nothing! Just a day in the life of this broken girl. Such a short life, yet so much had already transpired.

Having miscarried her second child, just a month before, she didn’t realize that she was still grieving her loses, and that her body was not yet healed. But, here it was…no turning back.

The escape plan in place, so she thought. The release from the physical, verbal and mental abuse was what was expected. Little did she know that she would enter into another form of abuse.

The “happy couple” drove themselves to the justice of the peace. She wore dark purple, because it was the closest she had to black. No rings, no flowers. Just them. Their two witnesses met them there, and so the stale ceremony took place.

~ 🌺 ~ 🌺 ~ 🌺 ~

Today – 35 years later – a miracle! My husband and I are still together. God’s grace abundantly being poured onto us, individually, and as a couple. Many, many things and circumstances have threatened to tears us apart, and some have nearly succeeded. Yet, today, I can say that we “walk-together”. We continue to learn the “dance” of life. And, by God’s grace we will continue until death do us part.

Depression/December

December is here! Holiday cheer at its best…so that’s what I hear. However, for those suffering from depression, well, for so many reasons, the “sadness” gets even deeper and gloomier. Maybe it’s the “postcard” images ingrained in our minds. Maybe it’s the filtered social media images that constantly assault us and make us think that “everyone is happy” except us. Or maybe it is just LIFE :-/

That Porcelain Doll has been shattered. The Plastic Faces have melted. And, even though the pain is excruciating, I can breath. I can walk in the freedom of who I am. The fitting in, the pretending was suffocating and oh, so, tiring.

My December won’t have fake tinsel and glitter. I will, however, be real and present for those that desire to have me around. AND, that, my friends is a gift worth giving; and the memories made are priceless treasures to cherish for years on end.

I am not sure where this “December” finds you. I hope and pray that “it” won’t bring you to despair. I’d love to pray for you, if you are inclined to share your need with me. We never walk alone!

THANK YOU to all who visit, follow, comment and like.

I am grateful for each and every one of you.

~~~Walking together, on this journey called life~~~

Decorations – Where?

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas! Trees, lights, tinsel…decorations galore. Boxes out of storage, sifting through wondering, thinking…how will we decorate this year? However, the place to decorate is not the happiest place on earth. It is not a choice one willingly makes. It is the – – – – cemetery✝️

Angie loved Christmas. Remember the movie “Elf”? Well, she would get as excited as that character played by Will Ferrell. Last year, in my attempt to keep things “normal”, I decorated her grave site quite extensively. I even put up a Christmas Tree. I remember people coming with their boxes, busily decorating their loved ones graves. Even in the numbness of the pain, I wondered, “what makes one do this?” Oh, there was a time I probably would have thought “this” was a waste or of no value. My goodness, how time and circumstances can change ones mind.

Angie’s grave site was decked out with decorations while my home was dark and somber, no sign of Christmas there. What a contrast!

Last year, by this time her decorations were up in all it’s splendor. This year it’s just not happening. Not sure what I will do, yet.

It’s not even December, I still have time. And, if it’s different or the same, well…it is what it is. It will come and go before we know it.

~Grace to accept what can’t be changed~

🎄💔🎄💔🎄💔

~Grace to take one step forward, no matter the pain~

Thanksgiving 2018

Thanksgiving 2018 is now history. Time doesn’t stand still. Life propels us forward.

Ours began with a drive to a pathway, which sits at the foot of our mountains. Six miles walking and talking was a breeze. The briskness of the early morning was soothing to my soul.

A little down time before we put our hands to the task at hand – our thanksgiving spread. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy…the works.

Out table was set for all of us, including an “empty chair” for our Angie. We stuffed our faces with no other sound than our grubbing. Once, completely stuffed, we each shared what we were thankful for. So much could be said. And, yes, my heart was so incredible grateful. That “empty chair” didn’t cause me additional pain…it was simply “appropriate”.

Angie was “not” missing, she was fully present in our hearts and minds. AND, we were able to enjoy each other and continue to make memories.

Not perfection, just the next step in the process

~~~Spring always follows Winter~~~

Constant Change

Thanksgiving week with all the buzz and frenzy. Plans of the perfect table and yummy family recipes. Traditions kept for generations or the start of new ones. And, yes, the stress to make it all picture perfect.

Growing up, we did not celebrate the thanksgiving holiday. Our little village hadn’t been touched by the traditions of the USA. I remember when we came to “el norte”, Mom had no clue what to do with this “bird” that Dad brought home from work. I gift given to all employees on Thanksgiving. We had an over abundance of turkeys because many family members worked at that place. So Mom, in her industrious self, got to work. For Thanksgiving she made turkey-birria and for Christmas she made turkey-tamales. And, so we had a semblance of new found traditions.

As a married woman we had our share of complete leanness to the “enough for everyone to eat”. As my kids got older we decided to build our own traditions with a traditional thanksgiving meal. I don’t know that any one year was the same, but nothing compared to the complete rending of all we knew to be normal.

Last year, our first without our daughter, I sat in a chair staring at my kitchen. No trip to the grocery store in preparation, no marinating the turkey…NOTHING! Not even a desire to move…just frozen in time with a deep, deep sense of loss, and so much pain.

My two men (my husband and son), as usual, gave me space and allowed me to simply “be”. Eventually they went and found a take-out-place that was open and brought home some food. I know I sat at the table, I know I ate, but the numbness gives me no other details.

This year, by God’s grace, I want to attempt to make a traditional meal and have a traditional dinner. My daughter loved, loved the holidays. I want to honor her memory by making things a bit normal for our family. And, I want to convey to my remaining family, that they are loved, too.

What will happen, remains to be seen. BUT I, at least, have the desire to want to move forward. And, that is enough for today.

How have things changed for you? I’d love to hear your stories ❤