a Friday journey

I did it.

On a Friday.

For the first time since Bill died.

I had wondered if I ever would again.

I got up this morning,

went through my routine,

got in my car, prayed for safety

and drove four and a half hours by myself.

I could see a storm ahead.

I do not like to drive in the rain.

Today I did not mind the down pour,

for some reason, today I was filled with confidence.

As I drove,

I reflected on life-

I have faced storms,

some I have seen coming,

and been able to prepare for

others I have been caught up in,

unaware they were brewing, blindsided-

the important thing I concentrated on today

was the truth that I have come through every one of them.

Sometimes I have been bruised and battered,

sometimes I escape without a mark,

but each time, I survived.

We are not promised life without rain.

In fact, we are told the opposite.

What we are promised as believers in Christ

is that we will not face anything without the Son.

That is the truth that rang in my head

as I sat at a wedding rehearsal this evening,

as I once again thanked God 

that Bill was here for each of our children’s weddings.

What I had not considered before tonight

was the weddings of our grandchildren.

As I watched a grandfather escort his wife, 

it hit me; I will not have that.

“Everyday” things.

Bring joy and happy memories.

Are opportunities to make new memories.

Sometimes serve as reminders

of memories I will not be making.

I have to be careful to act, not react,

I get to choose what my focus will be.

It takes determination, it requires practice,

it means submitting, “not my will, but Yours be done”,

to acknowledge, accept and experience the pain of loss

without allowing it to consume, define and control my life.

I don’t always get it right. So until I die, I will keep practicing.

I heard a small dog barking

when we got to the house we stayed at.

I smiled, even as sadness lurked.

It was a Chihuahua-the only dog Bill did not like.

Bonzai, our greeter

I can still hear him 

telling the story that explained why.

“I went on a call one night 

(tow truck driver days)

and there was a lady with her chihuahua,

it was barking like crazy.

I asked her ‘Will it bite?’

‘O, no, it would never bite anyone.’

It bit through two pair of socks,

a pair of thermal underwear and jeans.

It drew blood and left a mark.

I hate Chihuahuas.”

Everyday things.

Reflections.

Memories.

Tears.

Smiles.

Chuckles.

Belly laughs.

Some of the stuff life is made of.