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Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Of course, on the other hand, there are times when it is good and right to sit for a bit, to ponder the next move.
But on the other "other hand" sometimes that's just a stalling tactic, something to hold onto when we are afraid to move.
And, so you see, pursuing perfection can be paralyzing.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
I also noticed when I was editing these photos that the pictures I took in January of Tyler's tree show branches. The pictures I've taken lately show just a stick coming up out of the ground. I don't know if something broke the branches off or what. I am going to investigate the next time I am there.
We created a primitive bed around the tree. There was a large stump there, with roots, left over from a sweet gum tree that died. We planted ferns and a few flowers and bulbs in there. According to my mother, the things we planted will spread and grow over the roots. We also put a couple of bird baths in that area. I'm trying hard to get a way to get the birds closer so I can get pictures of them. We shall see what happens.
Next time I go, the two huge azalea bushes should be blooming and with any luck, we will find a couple of wild dogwoods blooming as well.
I keep trying to make myself forget the prospects of running into Mr. Snake again on my trail. I'm not doing well with that project!
Friday, March 15, 2013
When I read the words, I remembered some photos I'd taken of a rusty old dog chain hanging on a rotting swing in my back yard. I looked at the old photos but I didn't like them as well as I thought so I went out and took new ones.
This is how a "thang" is born!
I'm trying to get organized to set up an online shop to sell them on cards suitable for sending in the mail or for framing.
Last week's verb was "wonder." I experienced a time of wonder last weekend when I was in the country. My parents were with us and my mom pointed to this rabbit eating grass in the yard. I went and got my camera and slowly moved closer and closer to him. I think I was within 10-15 feet of him before he finally decided to hop away! The camera would make its shutter noise and he would look up but he was too busy eating to let it bother him too much.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
One of my favorite quotes from the book was "Loss sometimes feels like encountering a strange place in a familiar landscape." She is a therapist and she writes about her clients telling her that one of the things their grief has changed for them is their expectations. She goes on to say how people had expectations of a paticular future with their loved ones, and now they don't. And they are, understandably sad about this.
That's a very big part of the reason this particular quote on "trust" spoke to me. I had expectations that I would outlive all three of my children. I had hopes and dreams for my son. And now, not only do I have to let go of the hopes and dreams, I no longer have his physical presence in my day to day life.
My own grief swells and then settles down. That is the way it will be for a long time. Lately, the permanence of his physical absence has weighed down on me.
I'm only saying these things as facts and as an admonition to make the most of your present moments. As we all know, but often tend to try and ignore, none of us is guaranteed more than our present breath. Probably no one needs to be reminded of this more than I do at this moment.
(Trust was my verb for last week. I am late for my own deadline, as usual.)