Lilacs, Tulips, and temps below 60

(third try, hope the previous attempts don’t show up)


I saw lilacs in Wisconsin, Tulips in Michigan, but not much in the way of warm temps both areas had a few weeks earlier.


It was great to reconnect with family ( altho I felt guilty taking their time from their already busy lives),

and great fun to spend an evening with Robyn’s family before our trip to the Faith and Writing Festival at Calvin College in Michigan.

For the most part, I made good decisions about the logistics ( and my niece helped me out when I didn’t,like getting me on the correct bus to Chicago).

I had my moments of grief, but they were brief, because I was so busy [ that method works and is necessary for a while, but for me, the grid just hangs there behind, like a cloud, so I have to deal with it eventually. Sorry, Bruce Cockburn, but I cried throughout your concert, good thing the lights were only on you.]  I came home with a long list of books to read and authors to check out, and renewed discipline to write at least in my journal, each day.  Perhaps more about vows made in another blog.

I also came home very thankful I have relatives and friends I can enjoy and be with, even when I’m not always “all there”.


Here’s a quote from Ann Voskamp I came away with:  “trust [in God] is the bridge from yesterday to tomorrow.”

I’m going to post this and trust it will turn out OK!


Easter Sunday ..thoughts

This week has been one big emotional roller coaster; perhaps because it’s passion week, perhaps just the process of becoming more deeply aware of Roger’s absence. Perhaps that’s just where I’m at, now in this time. Remarkably, this week I’ve also seen some items come to my Inbox that just resonated with me…One is the following poem ( quoted only in part) by Ed Hirsch:

“The Fig Tree

I want to live like that little fig tree

that sprouted up at the beach last spring

and spread its leaves over the sandy rock

. … I need to live like that crooked tree—

solitary, bittersweet, and utterly free—

that knelt down in the hardest winds

but could not be blasted away.

It kept its eye on the far horizon

and brought honey out of the rock”

The line that triggers the most resonance with me now is ‘kept its eye on the far horizon’. So often I’ve found myself sobbing into the pillow, because I’m not looking at the far horizon when I will be with Roger again, but at the alone-ness and fear for the immediate future. There continue to be innumerable challenges, (sometimes my stomach does flips over the finances, the timeshare, the unexpected decision making) but most people are kind, and I know I must be patient with the process. Someone said grief is what you feel, but mourning is how you express it. My tears have been an expression of mourning in unexpected places and times: When I see the lovely spring tulips, I think of Roger not here to see them too; I’m living a life so often not shared.

Yet I know there is a balance I have yet to reach, where I can feel joy as well as pain in the memories, as well as the small miracles around me. So I bought an Easter lily to be part of those in the church decoration, I took a couple of people with me to church, I took several lily blooms to someone in the care center. Now it’s sunny, and I’m taking the car and binoculars out for an attempt to soak up spring!