Last night the group of us women who get together to read a good book or two and share in prayer for each other got together just for fun and a meal together to wind up another year of reading and such. We tend to scatter – on holidays and travel and such over the summer so it gets a bit hard to meet regularly.
Last night we shared food and drink and laughter.
We began designing a form that could be given to prospective sons-in-law to see if they merit the daughter. Quite hilarious. Hope the guys have a good sense of humor or otherwise we may end up with a lot of spinster daughters.
And then Loretta and I went shopping at Virginia’s place. Oh dear!
As I pedaled to work this morning:
The steadfast love of the Lord never faileth
His mercies never come to an end
They are new every morning
New every morning
Great is Thy faithfulness, O Lord
Great is Thy faithfulness
Today we tackled the huge job of cleaning up the garage. I think we have enough stuff in there to open a second Value Village.
One of the jobs I finally got around to was sorting through some of the stuff brought over here at least a year ago after my dad’s things were sorted out. One of the things that came to me were the family treasures that dad kept. Maybe my tendency to collect came from him. He had saved all of the sympathy cards from when my mom passed away and a lot of other things that reminded me so much of both of them.
It’s been 33 years since mom died so suddenly on May 29th. In one notebook Dad kept, he had written down all the details of how he had tried to contact me off in the interior of Zaire. Numbers for contacts at the consulate and the missions office. And my response that I could not come home – my passport was down in the visa office and not accessible to me for travel. There was so much in that box that I had never seen. I sort of wish that it had all been dragged out back 31 years ago when I had come home for the first time since mom’s death. Maybe the mourning would have been more complete. Maybe it never will be entirely. I will never lose the connection I had with her as her daughter. She is for me one of the saints that surrounds me with the whole horde of the faithful who have gone on before.
So, today I mourned a little. Not in some psychologically sick sort of way that refuses to accept the facts of life and death. But there was so much I missed by not being here at her death that creeps up on me in unexpected ways. And so, I weep and I mourn.
Then life goes on.
This morning I headed out to Anglin Lake. It is one of my favorite spots. Very quiet most of the time and today was no exception. I settled into a spot at the picnic site with my screened shelter that I acquired a bit earlier this year. (one of the better purchases I’ve made this spring) I had some books and a not too bad chair and my lunch for the day. And my Honda CRV has a stow away table in the back that is perfect to work at.
The day was sunny off and on. Enough so I got a bit red. There were a couple of good thunder showers to cool things off too. The shelter gave me enough protection from the rain that it still was nice to be outside even in the storms.
I went out to be quiet. Silence is what I was needing. My mind and heart seemed to need some rest and some space to reconnect with God. It is so much easier for me to connect with God out in nature – just me and God and the world he made. And this particular lake seems to be one of those places for me where God is near. I’ve gone there to meet with him before. In fact, I try to get out to that spot every year. One day is hardly long enough but when one is hungry, a morsel tastes pretty sweet.
I have discovered that the very dark Dove chocolates are the perfect pick me up at the end of a long day. They are too dark to pig out on. They melt in my mouth. One is enough – well, maybe two.
Tonight, I put one in my pocket(well, two actually) when I left on my bike ride. I stopped and sat a bit by the river. And ate those chocolates. They are wrapped in their own special deep red foil wraps that have little sayings written inside. Little bits of wisdom to savour with the chocolate.
One said, "Reread your old poems."
I think I shall do some of that. My old poems were often conversations with God. I need to revisit them maybe.
When there is a perceived threat to part of one’s body, how important that part suddenly becomes. At least in how that part is perceived and no longer taken for granted.
On Tuesday, I began to notice a tiny line like a stray hair that drifted across my left eye. It wasn’t noticeable enough to impede my sight but was noticeable enough that I noticed it. I tried to wipe away the hair or film on the surface of my eye but found no stray hair, no reason that I could tell for it being there. No pain though. So I kept on going not terribly alarmed.
I don’t recall that I noticed it after work that evening. But it was there again the next day at work. I think it had to do with the light coloured walls in the office and the white page on the computer screen. In a jumble of colours I did not notice it. However since it seemed not to be a figment of my imagination, was something new and was not going away on its own, I called the ophthalmologist, who squeezed me into his schedule on Thursday afternoon.
So, yesterday, after attending Patrick’s convocation where he was granted his BA Honours, we headed back home so I could get to my appointment and so Leo could put in a few hours of work.
My eyes were thoroughly checked and my hopes that this was just a floater and no retinal detachment were realized. What a relief.
A person gains a new appreciation for the sense that is threatened. On Wednesday, I remember looking up at the soft white clouds in the sky thinking of how much I would miss seeing the world around me if my sight were to go. How much I would miss reading. How I would miss seeing people’s faces.
I now live with a renewed sense of wonder at my sight and all that it brings into my life. I guess it is good to be reminded of these things every now and then, even if it is scary to be brought to this point.
It was such a gorgeous day. At noon I ended up with a bit longer lunch break than anticipated. So, I got away from the office for about 45 minutes.
In our city there is a little confectionary that sells the best slushes and snowdrifts. So I snuck off there to pick up a snowdrift (shhh – it is not on the dietary approved list) and who did I meet but one of my assistants stopping in at the same place for the same reason. What can a boss do when caught in the act, so to speak, but pick up the tab?
I took my ice creamy drink and headed down to the park by the river, found a quiet spot on the bank and spent a few quiet minutes there. It was the best lunch break I’ve had in a long time!