Sweet sounds & strange sounds

I woke up to the sweet sounds of summer drifting in the open window - mourning doves cooing, woodpeckers pecking and song birds singing cheerily. I was thrilled that I had the time to soak in the sounds of this place another day, to memorize them for some future reminiscence. What a privilege has been mine to live amongst these sounds, to celebrate them as the normal backdrop of my life here. I am so accustomed to these sweet sounds but may I never take them for granted.

Another sound has been surfacing around here the last few days – this one not so familiar – in fact pretty much unheard of until just now. That rare sound we keep noticing is the echoing emptiness in one room after another once all of the furniture has been moved out. How weird. These rooms have never been empty enough to echo before. To the contrary they have been gradually filling up even before construction was completed and for 40 years since.

I am very grateful that the empty echoes do not reverberate in my soul as might easily have happened. Instead, there are mostly soft sighs of joy triggered by memories throughout the spacious rooms.

Interestingly some of the rooms are already filling up again. The new renters needed a place to unload their rental truck so we offered one of the rooms that we had vacated. It is now filled to the ceiling with boxes & beds & couches piled precariously awaiting the moving in of their owners. I find myself excited that these walls will soon be echoing child laughter again and that these floors will feel the patter of little feet running & exploring their new home. And I find myself looking forward to the new sounds that we will discover as we wake up in new places on our journey.

Sweet sounds, strange sounds, soft sighs...

To my man

How can I ever thank you?

I am aware of an amazing joy and sense of gratitude during these days - when I could well have been more focused on grieving - as we pack away a lifetime of memories and get ready to walk away from our beloved home with all of its customized comforts and conveniences.

I had tried to prepare myself for the gamut of emotions - from excitement to grief and fear and stress - but have been pleasantly surprised to have joy and excitement winning out most of the time.




You have been amazing in this process - doing more than your share of the work, but especially being patient with me.  

You have been so unexpectedly good at knowing when to push me and when to give me space - which has provided a safe place for me to do all of this processing. I am so very grateful for your provision, protection and patience.

Better together

Another Five-Minute Friday The rules are no editing, no over-thinking, no back tracking. Just writing. Today's word is together... Go.... Better together It’s hard to leave. This has been home for a long time. I thought I’d live here the rest of my life. But we’ve been set free to explore other places. Why would we want to go? Why not stay forever? Stay where it’s familiar & comfortable? Of course, we realize that we can’t stay forever. Some day we’ll have to leave – when we no longer have the health to stay. Or perhaps one of us will be gone & the other wouldn’t want to stay alone – or to leave alone. How much better to leave together when we can! When we have the desire to journey & explore. When we still have the energy to make it happen without being a burden to others. Yes, we’ll have to leave some day. Why not do it now – while we can leave together? While the leaving can be fun & joyful... It’s better together.

the jungle feast

Brilliant lush green – deep, dark green and yet somehow bright green – contrasts with the deliciously wet black tree trunks. Yes, those are the colors of this jungle after a soaking rain. Yes, the leaves are opening enough to make it look like a jungle today. What a feast for my eyes! This is one of my very favorite times of the year (at least in my top four!) to be in this glorious part of creation. It wouldn’t be hard to feel badly about leaving it all; nope, it wouldn’t be hard at all. On the other hand, I can choose to enjoy every bit of beauty, to breathe it in, to drink it in, to celebrate the fact that it has been my privilege to enjoy it for 39 springtimes, and to enjoy it even one more time. Why would I want to let anything spoil that celebration? It is with a hard lump in my throat that I think of the hard parts of leaving even whilst looking forward with grand anticipation to the journey ahead. It's a jungle out there and I can't wait to explore it.

Funeral awkwardness

I wonder what Lazarus would do at a funeral.
What would he say?
How would he feel?

If I were him, I think I might feel awkward. Not just the “not-knowing-what-to-say” kind of awkward, but you know? Sort of like a cheater? Yah, yah, I worry too much about what people think, but I’d probably imagine that someone might be thinking “So what are you doing here? Are you trying to show off?” Or maybe someone would think “How insensitive of you to flaunt your live body at a time like this!” Would anyone think that he was gloating?

Maybe he would feel a little bit like I felt the first few times I saw my friends after they lost their son to cancer. Jon & I were diagnosed around the same time. We were both bald the same summer, but he’s gone now & I’m still here 8 years later. It's almost as if I feel guilty for surviving - not really, but almost. My friends assure me that seeing me does not make them any sadder; no way do they resent my recovery, but still I feel weird.