Another Milestone Gone By and Another Dream Buried in the Dust

As I sit here, steeling myself against the morrow, I hear a tiny voice echoing through my mind “Great-Grandpa died. We buried Great-Grandpa.” This was the voice of my young niece and her perpetually repeated refrain a couple years back as her young mind and heart struggled to understand the concept of death. And tomorrow, we will all gather once again to perform the same office for my Grandmother. Tomorrow we will remember and lay to rest my last grandparent.

For indeed, Grandma went home not long after my previous post; my parents had arrived just in time – my grandma could still recognize my father (her son) though she could not speak and she liked and appreciated the shawl I sent her. I like to think it brought her my love, and a bit of comfort and encouragement in the end before she slipped into more or less unconsciousness – I am told my aunt had to gently pry it out of her hands after she fell asleep at night.

At moments like this, we do not truly mourn for the one gone on before – we know and understand that they are happy, at peace, pain-free. But nonetheless, it is hard to let go; so difficult to say goodbye. We mourn for ourselves. Our loss. Our heartache. In my case, my sorrow gets all mixed up with that which might have been. No one knows this, but I never thought in a million years that I would still be unmarried at this point in my life – my heart yearns for a much deeper connection; for marriage and a husband. Somehow, much as it did when we lost Grandpa a couple years ago, this loss brings new poignancy to my own personal heartache. I suppose in part because it delineates the passing of time, but also because if I ever do get married, my husband will never get to meet any of my grandparents. My children will never get to meet their great-grandparents.

There is a song an a children’s movie:

Like every tree stands on it’s own; reaching for the sky I stand alone

I share my world with no one else, all by myself, I stand alone.

I often feel much the same – except unlike the character in the movie, my solitude is not by choice. And I am so tired of standing alone.

Grandma would have loved to have (more) great-grandchildren. And told me so more than once (my family is big on teasing). But on her last trip up here last summer, she also told me that I shouldn’t marry just anyone. She knew the importance of finding a godly man and that it was far better never to marry than to marry the wrong man. I appreciate that so much, but still, my heart hurts.

And so tomorrow, with an ache in my heart (for so many mixed-up reasons) I will once more stand alone. But of course, not completely alone, for God is always with me. 

And lo, I am with you always, even until the end of the world.

And safe in His everlasting arms I will stay. 

What a blessedness, what a peace is mine

Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Saying Farewell

Precious memories, how they linger, how they ever flood my soul… in the stillness of the midnight…

As I sit here attempting to find words to write, my heart hurts - for miles and miles away with every passing moment, the ties that bind my grandmother to this world grow ever weaker and ever more tenuous. While Grandma is ready to go; it has been a rough couple of years for her since we lost Grandpa and while I certainly wouldn’t want her to linger on in her current state, it is so hard, so very hard to say goodbye.

My heart can sing when I pause to remember
A heartache here is but a stepping stone
Along the trail that's winding always upward
This troubled world is not my final home

Since the entrance of sin into the world, death is strangely intertwined with life. I just received a text from my aunt who informs me that the child of my cousin is not waiting until his due date to arrive and so my aunt and uncle are off to await that new arrival. So while one set of watchers will be awaiting a first intake of breath, the other set of watchers is waiting for a final exhale. And yet joy and sorrow are intertwined together for all.

What a friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear!
We should never be discouraged,
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful,
Who will all our sorrows share?
In His arms He’ll take and shield thee,
Thou wilt find a solace there.

(yes, I am deliberately blending all the verses together).

Last month (and I know it was last month because I was at Ag in the Classroom when I received notice) Grandma had a severe stroke; it is so hard to believe that it was only last month. Last week, her health rapidly deteriorated. I had been knitting a shawl for her – it was a complex and intricate pattern (because that is what I do) and therefore took a lot of time to finish. I am so grateful I was able to finish it just in time for my parents’ to take with them on their last-minute, unplanned trip, but I am so frustrated right now that I didn’t finish it so much sooner. “If” is a very dangerous word, but I cannot help but wonder, IF I had concentrated more deliberate focus… IF I had been more diligently persistent… Certainly, IF the pattern had not omitted a very important feature which ultimately resulted in me having to design the last (largest) pattern repeat to make the shawl large enough, or IF I had noticed said omission and selected a different pattern, I would have have finished six months ago – before she had her first stroke.

When peace like a river attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll,

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

“It is well, it is well, with my soul.”

I won’t get to say farewell to Grandma in person – I am too far away and I had organized my work schedule so that I could be there for some time in August. That seems ever so unlikely to be a possibility now; it is only a matter of time now – and most likely not very much time either. So I shall say goodbye from here; nay, not goodbye – only farewell, for I know we shall meet again one day.

I love you Grandma. Thank you for being a kind and caring grandmother. Thank you for a life well lived; though I shall miss you very, very much, I shall rejoice with you as well. And as time rapidly slips us by, I will see you again one day soon.

Blessed be the tie that binds; our hearts in Christian love
When we asunder part, it gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart, and hope to meet again.

Never-On-Time Christmas Packages

Last summer I participated in a craft fair at which one of my cousins also had a booth.  Her small daughters arrived and popped in several times during the day.

They loved coming over to see me and all my fun and colorful products.  The littlest one was particularly enthralled with a lovely, ruffley baby dress (we had to explain that it was too little to fit her).

When it came to my Dum Dum Warriors (and other toys), the oldest daughter was most definitely hinting,

“What are these for?”

“They are for people to buy.”

[in a rather dejected tone] “Oh. I wish I could buy them.”

So I took pity on the girls and told them, “tell ya what. You leave these here for people to buy and I’ll make you each one for Christmas.”  While technically, Christmas has come and gone, most of my Christmas gifts/fudge/etc. are never on time anyway.  Mostly because I am simply always late.  But I have recently thought of a brilliant excuse: people enjoy gifts whenever they receive them AND the fudge is likely to be more greatly (and less guiltily) enjoyed when there are not quantities of other Christmas goodies clamoring to be consumed.

But, unfortunately, after I told them this, I suddenly realized that it wouldn’t be fair to make only one set of children toys-not when most of my other cousins have children too.  So, it turned into a much larger project than I had originally anticipated (but I had a blast making them all).  It is going to be a surprise for everyone - with the exception of one cousin.  There are so many food allergies in that family, I had to consult her before creating and shipping off a toy with candy someone wouldn’t be able to eat.  And it turned out to be a good thing I asked; her littlest one is allergic to corn which means she cannot have any kind of sucker (at least none that her mom has yet been able to find).  So, since the warriors kinda require a sucker, I decided to make her an extra special toy to make up for not being able to have the candy.

Personally, I love the way this kitty turned out — if I weren’t a “grown-up,” I might decide to keep it for myself 😄  So, if my li’l cousin is like me, she won’t miss the candy at all... though if she has the same sweet tooth as my sister, nothing could possibly assuage the lack of candy... 🙄



All the toys are ready to go — so tonight I get to start packaging the fudge and toys and prepare them for mailing.  I am so easily entertained -- I had so much fun posing them all for this picture.

Snowstorm!!!

The storm that arrived this afternoon was one of those storms wherein snow is accompanied by great wind creating blizzard-like conditions. Dad is out of town this week so all chores are left up to me before/after work as necessary while he is gone. So when I arrived home from work last night, I was already late because of the driving conditions and made the most unfortunate discovery that the sheep had not come in from the field for the night.

So having trekked about in the “little field” a bit to make sure they hadn’t come in for water and were simply not in their shelters, I was like “oh brother” and debated heading back to the house for Fernie’s harness and leash, but the snow was blowing, the fog was descending, and it was getting darker by the second so I decided to chance it and lifted both of my dogs over the fence and we braved the storm in quest of the sheep.

While walking in the snow on the way OUT to find the sheep was not easy, I was to find soon enough that the return trip was much more difficult. But we went on our way – it was difficult to hold the correct course as I could not actually see where I was going; my flashlight could not penetrate the fog and the snowflakes, but now and again vehicles traveling down the freeway would light the night enough for me to at least know I was headed in basically the right direction. Bonnie gamely trekked along behind me in my footsteps – picking up lots of snowballs on her way and Fern (how that dog has so.much. energy, I cannot say) was running about hither and yon – I think she was smelling places the sheep had been previously-- or maybe they were rabbit trails (literally).

It seemed like ages had passed – I began to wonder if I hadn’t completely missed the hay feeders in the dark when we finally saw a patch of something that did not quite match the rest of the surroundings! It was the sheep. They had started on their way home, but either the darkness, fog, and storm had confused them or they simply did not like walking into the storm (can’t say I blame them for that).

 "I once was lost in darkest night. Yet thought I knew the way..."

Well, Fern and I got them started on their way home (even though Fern does not yet know how to be a sheepdog, at least she has finally mastered enough self-control to help with this) and then we went the rest of the way to the feeders to make sure no sheep had left behind (there weren’t). And then began to head back. I suddenly became aware that my little dog was no longer keeping up – I soon figured out what was wrong: she was basically one giant snowball :/ She is so close to the ground and rather fuzzy that the snow was clinging to her fur all over her legs and undercarriage. So in addition to fighting the wind and the blowing snow, I also had to pack Bonnie most of the way back. 25 lbs might not seem like a lot… at least not until there are a few extra pounds of snow and you are walking for distance in wind and deep snow 😕 When we got close enough to the corrals that Bonnie could actually sense that the journey was nearing an end, I managed to put her down and keep her moving with the promise of “doggie dinner” 😀 Food of any kind is a massive motivation for this little dog; by the end she was making faster progress than I.

The snow and fog was so thick by this point that all the way back, I never caught sight of the sheep again. But Fernie did – she kept them moving and we practiced her skills at patience and waiting and not going too fast (the last thing I wanted was to set the sheep off in a panic). It is just a good thing she is black or I would have lost sight of her in the snow too.

We finally arrived back at my house, Fern and I were coated in snow – poor Bonnie was covered in snowballs (which she immediately began to pick off and leave all over the floor). Everyone has received their promised dinner – and I am totally wiped out. This snowstorm does not bode well for the tasks of tomorrow…

When we like sheep had gone astray our shepherd came…