(I wrote this last February, never posted it…what’s wrong with me?)
The clothes dryer’s heat vapor blows up in tendrils
puffing over the porch
crystallized snowflakes float down behind the white puffs
I’m inside drinking hot dark cocoa
(This happened this morning under the bird feeder outside)
A girl has to look out for herself now and then
Hard winter freezing to death
Now the husband wants to get flirty
She’s hungry, had enough
Peck, jab, peck, attack
He runs for shelter
She returns to calmly eat like doves do
Then repeats the protection sequence through the day
Knowing that soon, she’ll need to start another family, but
A girl has to look out for her own self now and then
Forests of winter-tree-gingerbread cookies, thickly and whitely frosted, thoroughly cooled, are all ready for enjoying.
Hot steam fogs the window as we wash the morning dishes together, looking at and chatting about the super moon swiftly vanishing behind the distant trees over the snow topped field.
This third-super-moon-in-a-row marked our 25th wedding anniversary, a beautiful, extraordinary anniversary gift from our Creator who originally brought Chris and I together. What an incredible God, giving me a shy husband, who gave me a super, adventurous marriage experience.
And today, the church in Hanoverton gave us an amazing gift—lunch at the historic Spread Eagle Inn. “Thank you,” we say, with a full orchestra of swelling music behind us!
The green lawn shimmers golden yellow orange red with a blanket of magnificent fallen leaves under the gray, almost wintery sky. I always look forward to this time of year to soak up the gorgeous colors of what recently was very alive, vibrant green and clustered together on trees, providing shade, shelter and nutrition for all kinds of creatures. At this time of year, they wear down brilliantly, their lives ending with a blow-out of hues that artists and photographers strive to catch.
Glory in death.
This year several glorious leaves fell from my life. Some fell earlier than others, but they all blazed brilliantly as they finished their purpose and the time came to go away. First my Aunt Betty Hunt, then long time family friend Thelma Johnson, then my mother Mary Jo Hunt Gregoire and then my cousin Danny Gregoire.
They left people behind, yearning to see them again. Their departure allows us to follow suit—serve our purpose, finish in spectacular ways, blanket other lives with our own blazing ends. The time of death is a wonderful time to do our absolute very best, to leave behind burning images of good for those who are just beginning and for those who are still strong and green.
Today, stepping carefully among the tree’s fallen leaves, tears finally flow down my face. Finally, I mourn…and it’s okay.
October 8, 2016…the morning I found the way to mourn.