Driving from Albany to Watertown last night I had lots of time to reflect in the car and think. Some of it good, some bad, some happy and some really crappy. Sad/Mad/Glad. You know the drill… waves of moving and living and breathing. Sad/Mad/Glad and a buncha prayers… some days it is a lifesaver others I know I must just let myself feel it all. Thursday I was sooooo mad. I was mad all day and couldn’t really get rid of it. I am not used to feeling mad like that for so long, but a couple good conversations, 20 burpees in my kitchen and a few glasses of wine and I went to bed.
Yesterday was the sad part, maybe today will be full of glad. I have a feeling though that it might be a bit before I get the glad, glad, glad I had earlier this week. I guess I must ride and breathe and feel and let it be for now. We came into the village and my parents weren’t home and dinner wasn’t ready… so we met them at Pizza Hut and had dinner out. It was a good dinner. Then we all separated, Jojo took Meme to grab some things for Lucy’s birthday party, my parents went to pick Lucy’s gift and Lucy and I were off on our own. I decided to stop and go for a walk in the cemetery where my grandparents and family are. We visited some other angels that I have known through out my life and talked about their families and stories. Lucy got cold and ran back to the car yelling “Bye grandma and grandpa and Aunt Jane. I love you.” We headed back to my mom’s house and Jojo was pulling photo albums down to go through for some #TBT pictures. Gems. It felt… I don’t know like we were supposed to be doing that very thing on that very night. I visited my grandparents and thought a lot about them- then I saw a picture of them.I could see their kitchen and smell them. I could hear Grandma saying “Lyle…” or “Jesus, Mary and Joseph give me strength…” I used to hear that A LOT. I guess it’s the best way to yell at a naughty kid… give it up to the Big Guy and ask for a hand :). Man I loved them. I remembered how my grandfather passed away on my first day of college. How not long after I met Matthew and he reminded me of my grandfather. His mannerisms and some of this personality felt like my grandfather. I thought this was a bit of a gift from God, that Matthew was really made for me. It is part of what makes my new normal and lack of Matthew so hard… but I don’t even know the Matthew that is here today. I used to know him…
On to the funny… how can one climb up a polka dot tree and not see the bright dots as well… These pictures made me laugh so hard. Some of them just bringing back memories and thoughts- others in seeing how my parents did things. I learned a lot. I think my girls have it pretty freaking easy in our life… and I also love the colors of today. Honestly- everything in these houses was brown, dark, orange and dark… thank God for brighter style :).
This is Rikki (Jojo)… who just happens to have a huge fear of clowns. We think we nailed it down to this moment in here life… she also is terrified when balloons pop- also something this clown did to entertain her. Maybe everything in life is linked to an experience (just sayin’ :))…
Well there was my #TBT on a Saturday… you know me I don’t like to be normal.
I think some of the deeper thoughts and points from this weekend thus far is that this is the reason I am the way I am. I am too trusting and open sometimes, but I was made and shown that that it the way of to be. Two weeks ago, when the big bomb went off and jumbled up normal again, I took the girls to the circus and then to a birthday party. This birthday party was around the corner from my house in Rotterdam and filled with people from Watertown- Kate’s family all moved down here and live within miles of us. It’s a really cool connection and feeling of home there. Anyway at that party, Kate’s dad asked if my grandparents lived on the corner in the big old farm house. I told him yes. He told me that he had all of his girls on a hot summer day out for a walk in Brownville, and my grandparents stopped them and told them they needed to stop and have some lemonade. They insisted. So he stopped with all of his girls and had some lemonade. I sat in Albany 30 years later and heard this story about people I had never met and how he still remembered the kindness that they showed them and the character of my grandparents. It affirmed in me why I am the way I am, why I share the way I do, why I open myself and love people even after they hurt me. It’s why I am loud and bold and loving… it is why I feel a deep need to create memories and save little bits of life. I remember the day my father painted his old Harley. I knew I would want to remember it the way it was before too… so I picked up a few pieces of the green paint he chipped off and saved it in an envelope labeled for me to always have. It is the same reason I keep a Ziploc labeled on my dryer for all the things I have found that Lucy puts into her pockets… crusty worms, tiny arms people, rocks, lip gloss, buttons… things that were precious to her that day. It is in me.
Lengthy post today… sending hello’s and love to ya’ll. Send me some to. Share. Enjoy. Live.