My life has changed immeasurably during the past year. One year ago today, my Dad had a massive stroke. My life changed forever with that phone call.
The rawness of the time has softened; the need to speak for my Dad when he was unable to speak for himself has passed. The juxtaposition between the richness of the moment and the pain of it has been replaced with pensiveness, bittersweet replays and oh-so-sweet memories.
I have learned a lot: stuff happens; most things are inconveniences rather than tragedies; the Universe continues; love is.
We spend a lot of time in our lives collecting things; what truly matters is what we have inside: the values and love we share. As I continue to wade through papers, I discover little things about my Dad; things that are the warp and weft of the tapestry of his rich, long life. Photos and notes he saved; the deed for the first house they purchased for $14,000, drawings and cards my sister and I had made when we were children; loving notes he and my Mom had shared 60 years ago. I am grateful for these snapshots into his life.
My Dad was sweet and strong; sensitive and unconditional in his support of us. There is a special place in my heart that just gets fuller and fuller each time I think of him. And it is truly ok.
It has arrived!! I knew that it was Spring before the calendar told me it was so; I knew it when the quality of the light changed; when the birds first sang their songs early in the morning; when the goldfinches began frequenting the thistle feeder, the breeding males sporting their brilliant yellow coats. I knew it was spring when I had to fill the feeders every other day; when the snowdrops and crocuses showed their colors; when the hens started laying again. I knew it was
spring when little muddy doggy footprints were a daily occurrence and when the smell of wet, muddy dogs permeated the house. All these things I knew.
I sit at the big kitchen window, birds crowding the feeders. The cardinals have found the new feeder, filled with safflower seeds, a pileated woodpecker sits on the suet, alternating between eating and calling. Nuthatches, chickadees, tufted titmice, Carolina wrens, woodpeckers and others move from place to place.
The sunshine, a welcome addition, tells me that it really IS time to wash the windows. Inside AND out. I will take care of it—soon. The weather report informs me that rain and storms are on the way, followed by a bit of snow by the weekend. The best thing about snow in April is that, unlike the 22 inches we had in March, it won’t last.
What tells you it is Spring in your neck of the woods?
Selected by the Random Number Generator, the winner is Stacy, over at The Thicket. Thank you to all who entered this drawing. Please come by and visit again!
Our 150ish year old post and beam bank barn was transformed into a fall/harvest/Halloween palace yesterday. Our daughter worked with 3 of her good friends to hang streamers from rafter to rafter, through the basketball hoop and around the posts. She scooted across the high chestnut beam that runs the width of this part of the barn, carefully hanging icicle lights. Other lights adorned different beams, and when they were plugged in: magic!
They finished their task and came into this old house to clean layers of barn dirt from their hands, and to prepare for the evening’s festivities. Then the rains came. No fire or s’mores this night; it was too wet to even consider finding dry wood. Music of all kinds filled the space. The warmth of a group of friends–about 15 of them, I think–having fun. Showing up in the house for food and hot cider, a few words to us “parentals,” and off they went to create their own fun.
Today is a day of barn clean up. Humidity isn’t generally kind to crepe paper streamers. It’s a quiet day in these parts; leaves gently falling, the rain alternating with sleet-like drizzle. Too tired to do much more than smile.
Once again, it’s about connecting with folks all over the world to learn, explore and share. To ask questions and to question answers. Just like that. Being the change.
By fromskilledhands (
September 17, 2007 at 5:24 pm)
· Filed under creativity, here and now
Larramie is embarking on a wonderful adventure that she is inviting us all to share. Starting tomorrow, she will be presenting TEDtalks Tuesdays where she will share a site that is dear to my heart. Thanks, Larramie.
Cathy Bennett eloquently writes about an artist’s life. Her words ring so true to me. We create art because we have to; it is as natural to us as breathing.
Leaps of faith are what we take. We try new things and put those things in public view. Fishbowl living; baring our souls. All of the nicks and freckles and spots are right there for the world to see. No hiding.
Finding kindred spirits and maintaining one’s sense of self in a world that relishes conformity is an interesting path. Sharing a way of being, communicating without words having to fill the quiet spaces, asking questions and questioning answers is how I am. Rudyard Kipling wrote, “The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. To be your own man is hard business. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.”
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