My blog

 Someday when I'm much older, I hope I can go back and read these blogs. If I can't, have someone read it to me because  I don't want to forget the little special things. I spent the past week at the beach with Paul, Paige, Parker, and Pruitt(The four peas) so this post is mostly a reflection of that trip.

I hope I can always eat filled licorice ropes and that Parker saves some red ones for me. Note to self, not a wise move to give to little one in a car seat because they can become extremely sticky.

I saw Parker find his first whole sand dollar.

I saw Pruitt run into the ocean to chase a wave. I also saw a wave chase her back to the beach.

As soon as Pruitt's feet hit the sand, she runs screaming beach, beach, beach and in that moment she isn't my granddaughter but my soul sister. 

My grandsons JD and David have missed me and are excited to hear my voice. This makes my heart grow even more and I hope their mommy doesn't get angry at their gifts from the sea.

I  am so blessed. I can't thank God enough for this life I'm living.

Granny time

 There's nothing like being a granny. Watching your child's child learn and grow. Sometimes they do this amazing thing where they reach for you and you're their safe harbor-maybe they're in a swimming pool, maybe a wave has hit them a little too hard or maybe you're the first one that they see in the dark or first thing in the morning.  When I see their little eyes light up just to see me, my heart grows exponentially. I wish I could remember every single time they make me smile.  Pruitt got excited to see me in the 100 degree heat. She ran out barefooted before anyone could stop her. Oh, those poor little feet!

Just like that

 I woke up this morning and reached out for my husband. I was momentarily surprised that he wasn't right beside me and then reality hit. I  will never physically touch him again.  Two years of healing, growing,  and moving forward gone in mere seconds.  Just like that, the pain was as raw as it ever has been. The tears I thought were under control fell faster than rain. How many tears can one body possibly produce? I know my body can continually produce them for three hours. The drive from Little Rock to Jasper is typically three hours. Every landmark memory was a stab to the heart. The burger joint. The farmers marker where we bought a huge water mellon to strap to the motorcycle.  All the ice cream stops at Sonic. The access to the river where he patiently tried to teach me to back a fishing boat. One memory after another.  I know I will miss him until I draw my last breath.  I'm used to a part of me being gone but damn does it have to hurt so bad?  The missing should be enough.  Not having your best friend. Not having the one that always had your back. Not having your travel partner, your lover, your helper. The missing should be enough.I know God has a plan and He's in control I just wish that I could understand or hurt a little less.

The sea and me

 Sometimes I go to the beach. O.K. that's a lie. I go to the beach every chance I get. The waves calm my soul and I'm reminded that new beginnings start every day like the beach being changed with each wave that comes to shore bringing new treasures .  Sometimes the treasure is a new shell and other times it's the sight of a friendly dolphin passing through.  I love to listen to the waves and smell the air that has a hint of salt in it. I can talk to the sea and pray to God. I have a lot of requests and still need some questions answered. I  think my requests are heard but those questions still haven't been answered so I'll go back soon.

Keeping Promises

 

On his death bed my husband wanted me to take care of his boys. His grandchildren.  Our grandchildren. So every chance I get I try to make memories and bring them together so they know the love of family. It's a lot of work and I get really tired but there's nothing like hearing them laugh together.  When they hug each other, it melts my heart and when they give this granny a kiss I'm over the moon. Sometimes they cry when I leave and I leave quick because I don't look cute when I cry. 

The Bouquet

 It's been almost a week since my baby got married. It was the most beautiful, untraditional wedding you've ever seen. It wasn't in a church but on a mountain.  None of the bride's maids dresses were alike but each woman looked beautiful and they fit together like a beautiful bouquet.  There was a  branding ceremony at sunset. We didn't toss rice or birdseed but blew bubbles. There wasn't a tossing of the bouquet and I didn't think too much about it. Everyone had a good time and it was a wonderful celebration.  The next day the bride informed me that she didn't toss the bouquet because she wanted to dedicate it to her step father...my husband . It's been a week and I still tear up. She loved him so much and I know that he loved her just as much

 

They should be here

 Sorry another grief post, but this time I'm angry. I'm so tired of cleaning up messes that didn't  create. I'm tired of doing things by myself.  I'm tired of thinking for myself with no help on the answers. I don't know where the pulley went. I don't know how to kill the algae without hurting the catfish. I don't know what the future holds but I do know I expected my husband to be here or his son. They should be here for Lauren's wedding too. They would have loved the view of the mountains.  I think that's what I'm most angry about. Another special occasion that I can't physically share with him. I am so fucking tired of crying.  I am so tired of trying to pretend that this is the life I want.  Rant over. I'll be better in the morning.