Although there are stark similarities, it's really not like it much at all. Here, I have two trees lining the roadway, the same as in OK...just different. Today, I see a very large Pine Tree that lives close to where we receive our mail and the gynormus Jasmine Bush that has eaten the mail box and needs trimmed back...once again. Somewhere close to 50 feet South of it, stands a Crepe Myrtle that produces dark pink/purple blossoms, in season. But that's here, in NC. In Oklahoma, the two trees were massive Oaks. I've always loved the mighty oak trees. They spoke strength to me. Integrity. Dependability. Honor. Reverence. Respect.
At the old homestead, off Hwy. 10, there were trees I loved in our back yard, as well. The apple tree being one, because of the beautiful blossoms she produced at the beginning of Spring, always announcing the time to grow. To produce. Then in late Summer/early Fall, we got to enjoy the fruit from this hard working tree. As I type this, I'm now wanting to gather pictures taken under her and compile them, simply for posterity's sake. (Memo: Put it on your To-Do List, Mary...)
As I look out this early morning, the snow I had hoped to see, now covers the ground...but as beautiful as it is, my mind takes me back to the front yard of years gone by. The yard where our children swung on the play set their daddy had built for them when our oldest was preparing to turn 4, and our youngest had barely turned 2. It was a birthday gift, knowing our youngest would also enjoy it. We could imagine years of "together play" and collected memories while watching...as we interacted with them as if we were also young. I remember when Dennis first began the process. He did all the design work, and the building of that design, all by himself with only a few suggestions from me. Truly. I stayed out of the mans way. Shocking! I know...
It was a simple design. One that wouldn't cost a lot of money (there's always a way), yet had what we perceived to be enough to entertain and make their little hearts happy. Poles would need cemented into deep holes to stabilize the rambunctiousness of two little girls actively playing. It had two swings made from old tires that later got switched out to park worthy swings because a neighbor read Dennis the riot act for "making those sweet little girls swing on old tires." A tower accessed by a ladder to ascend, in order to reach the top of the slide, or just to sit a spell and read, or imagine taking trips to far off lands was added. I used to wipe the slide down with wax paper when it got the not-so-slick film over it keeping the ability to "whoosh" down easily and quickly. It also got very hot during the long summer days of the sun beating down upon it. But that didn't stop them. A sand box was added beneath the tower, just behind the slide. Turned out to be a great little place for the girls to take a break out of the sun and play in the cool sand while Momma fixed some lunch.
There were days when passersby would pull into our driveway and ask permission to take a closer look at the swing set. Some even asked if they could take measurements to replicate it. Dennis always allowed it. I'll never forget the day he decided to tear the swing set down. I struggled with it and he finally talked me into it. The girls were grown and gone. There was no longer any need for it. They had both moved to NC, and the swings sat still most days with only the occasional gust of wind to move them. The fun had been had. And I was much too busy to ever use them myself. They had served their purpose. I had to remind myself that change was necessary. Even important. Crazy...it still hurts to think about that day.
Memories are beautiful things if beautiful days created them. Yet, we can learn from the days that are not quite so beautiful. Still happy. Still secure, just maybe with a bit of "ugh" thrown in the mix. Our home at 64500 E. 100 Rd. provided many such memories. There were days we faced challenges. Days we all felt more stress than what we desired. And it took a lot of years of remaining steadfast in our covenant to love each other. The kids dad and I. But, now that we are older...all of us...that "stick-to-it" remained intact and we are better for it.
In the quiet moments of this early morning, reminiscing has been comforting. Looking back has its moments of gratitude, as well. Like when Meg was only 11 years old, a surprise came our way that we weren't prepared for. I am so grateful that God showed us, inspired us, how to create a space for that very unexpected, and very generous gift. I've already written a blog about that, so won't belabor it now. I'll just say that was possibly our biggest "figure it out" challenge ever. Yet we made it work. And it was just what the doctor ordered for that time.
I'll not forget the day we returned from moving Lindsey to NC. She had cleaned up her room, being the thorough girl she's always been, but didn't take the time to remove the nails that held pictures on the walls. She was my decorator girl. Our visionary. Every 3 months, her room changed. I was always in awe. Still am. I had gone in the kitchen to start some dinner when I heard his loud, awful, crying coming from the room Lindsey had always been in...until that day. The space she created from her spirit, now empty.
I went to the room and found my husband, with hands on knees, bent over crying his eyes out. I don't think I'd ever seen him like that before then, nor since. It was our first born's room, now dismantled, and he had the job of removing all the nails where her pictures once hung. It was a sacred moment. He knew they needed to come out, but she had put them there. Oh man....just remembering that day has brought me to tears.
There are other events that have caused extreme crying, as well. When our Meg left was such an event of feeling such extreme pain inside our hearts. One would think we were dying. But she hadn't moved to NC...yet. So, still within reach if need be. Just outside our protection. It's something all parents feel, I'm pretty sure.
Now the girls are women with their own families, making their own memories. Oh, we're still a very large part of their lives, but they do have lives to live outside of mine and their dad's. It's as it should be. They still need us...just not in the same capacity, the same dynamic, as when they were small and becoming who they were designed to be. As in the years they were being formed.
The years have come and gone, and the memories gathered so many years ago are such a treasure to me...especially in the quiet moments of this season of my life. So many comforting memories. But, not all memories need to resurface. Some memories I have to just let go of. They don't serve anyone, certainly not me. All families have those, right? Not sure I would believe you if you said you didn't. We all make mistakes we wish we could go back and do over. But even then...would we? Even those memories had a purpose, I suppose. At least it's what I tell myself. I try to just lay them down because I can't change the past. But I can orchestrate my future (with My Redeemers help), to a degree. I do know the only person I can change is myself. And that's plenty of work.
One last thought:
I can feel myself changing. Crazy, right? Even though I have liked who I was (mostly) over the years of morphing into what I'm still becoming, and am hoping is a mandate from my Creator, it feels as if it's all really brand new. Not a do-over. Brand new. It's difficult, on occasion..I still slip up. Yet, nothing worth having is EVER easy. And I have a great chorus of encouragement that comes mainly from those beautiful creatures God gifted us with.
Forever grateful, here you will find me...in Mary's World.
#lifeissues #godsdesign #quietmoments #oureverchangingworld #ourgirlsourloves
