Laughter in the wind

 My sister Robyn came up for a visit this weekend. Saturday we attempted to eat out a decent restaurant (failed) and stayed up drinking some wine and talking. Sunday, started a whole different ball game. Horses were caught and chocalate gravy on the table by eight, followed by a catching and releasing of the ducks-they were caught in the chicken pen and released into the pond with the other ducks. Casey and Lauren took the horses out while Robyn and I checked river conditions and visited a very old cemetary. Then it was bathing suits on under clothes and we headed to Low Gap Cafe. There, the food did not disappoint-there was steak, frog legs, rhubarb pie and lots of other goodies. Then we headed to the Buffalo River to get some swimming done. It was great catching some rays and watching Lauren and Casey play like little mermaids.
On the way home, Robyn's got the top on the convertible down. We've all got our swim suits on. The sun is shining and the mountains are gorgeous. We're all singing at the top of our voices and dancing as much as you possibly can in a seat belt. There were smiles and giggles all the way around. I heard a familiar laugh. It sounded so much like Mom I turned in my seat to look, but I didn't see her. It could have been any one of us-sometimes we all sound like her, but I like to think it really was her and that she was laughing at her girls. It felt really good to laugh and sing and dance and be in the sunshine with people that you really love.

Gettin' Right with Jesus ( pray for me)

Yesterday was Sunday and all over the world people were going to church and talking to Jesus and giving him praise. I'm not one that goes to church every Sunday and until quite recently we had a pretty decent relationship. I pray on a daily basis-giving a lot of thanks and usually making requests for people in need. I talk to him driving to work, riding the horse or motorcycle, cleaning, and just walking. I talk to him just like a friend and just like a friend can do, He pissed me off. Really, really pissed me off.  It's been over a week now and I'm still mad at him for taking my mom. I know He created the universe. I know He is all-knowing and with that knowledge, He knew how much she was still needed here. We made plans for Memorial Day-plans to pick blueberries-and preordered "Turkhens". I understand He has a master plan, but he could have given me some kind of heads up. She could have looked sick or sad when I saw her just five days before her death. God could have given me some kind of signal to stop and talk to her more than just an hour. He could have nudged me forward to give her one last hug instead of just squeezing her hands. I don't understand why these things could have such a huge impact on the world and they might make me feel a little bit better. I guess it's all part of the "Master Plan" but that doesn't mean I have to understand or like it. I'm trying to get past that angry stage. Already, I know that I had my mom a lot longer than my dad had his mother. Longer than my husband had his. I'm thankful that we had the relationship that we did. There are lots of great memories and photos for which I am eternally grateful.  Really I am, but then something happens and I pick up the phone to call her and that anger resurfaces followed by a stab to the heart. I guess at some point I should feel blessed-I have so many people around me that care and want to make things better. My children have been incredible. My remaining parents (all three of them) have been towers of strength and good examples for me to follow. My husband has shown me a caring side of him that I never knew existed. He's always been sweet and lovable, but he understands and shows compassion in a way I never thought possible. It's one thing to know how much creamer to put in my coffee or when to give me chocolate-it's another thing to know when to just hug me and say the right words. He understands the need for speed to get past a cementery and looks the other way when I laugh hysterically when someone mentions "Amazing Grace".  I guess I should offer another prayer of thanks, but I'm still working on the anger issue.

A long walk before the funeral

I took a long walk. I'm not sure of the distance, but I wanted something to hurt other than my heart. I figured I had succeeded when my calves started to twtch and sweat started to seep into variuos nooks and crannies. I went down an old logging road. Past the gates that block the road. I started to scream. loud and hard from the bottom of my broken heart. Then I screamed some more. I saida lot of things that my mom would not approve of. I wailed until my throat hurt as much as my heart and my tear weary eyes. Then I started back and I thought of how much she had taught me. She taught me how to live with heart ache and disappointment and fear. She cried with me so many times.Making me feel loved and leaving me wanting to shake it off and do anything to see her beautful smile. I want to make her smile one more time. This buttercup is going to suck it up. I am going to make her proud of me just one more time. I'd like to think of her elbowing Jesus in the ribs telling Him that she gave birth (pointing) to that one there.

No words ...

There are no words to describe how I feel. I know my mom will never read this blog. I'll never hear her laugh again. The pain is incredible. I can't believe I can still breathe. My heart hurts and these damn tears won't stop. The worse part is she was always here to take away my pain. Always.