Saturday, March 31, 2018

Scribbled Commentary


    So much has happened in the last two weeks that I hardly know where to begin. I ought to be writing up my personal tribute to Elv's mother, who passed away ten days ago with us beside her. I will eventually collect my thoughts about her and who she always was to me and things I learned from her. But that needs to be more special than will be this posting.
    This will be slightly scattered and unplanned, because that's life right now.
    To begin with, Spring as we like to know it, has been dilly-dallying about showing up. There is too much snow to melt and it's been too cold. I suppose there are actually weather patterns that happen in the regular scheme of Wisconsin weather phenomena to explain it; but the plain truth is that we are ready for spring.
     We are ready to clean up this messy acre.  We have tree trash galore from cutting down some unwanted trees that the snow covered up before we were done last fall. And the back lots are extra messy with recycle-able things.  Stuff all over this place to clean up and pick up. Lawn issues that only more seed and fertilizer can heal. Things to dig up. A pile of brush to burn...
    Our priorities are all in place through no effort on our part. You just can't clean up the lawn until the snow goes away. "I can repair the tiller though, right now!"  is Elv's muse. And we can do the sewing. Amy and I will do that, though.
    I said this will be unplanned because that is how life feels right now. But really, none of these things are a surprise to God, the One Who has it all in His hands anyway. I'm banking on that these days. It's the only way to stay sane.
     This week the main interruption has been a new ten inches of snow.  Unless you count the hurried trip mid-week down to Lewi's to pick up some more wood for counter top for Amy's tiny house kitchen.  On our way home late that night, I read Life in the Shoe aloud to Elv and I. It kept us awake and talking for most of the way home. Laughing and crying, too. The crying was just me. I'm still thinking about teeth and being poor and I'm protesting, down in my heart, but not coming up with a satisfactory refutation. 
    Tim and Amy's house is another project that is getting done now while they can. Painting, cleaning, finishing, planning, and generally feeling hurried. It will be a lovely home for two.
    Francis has been here all week and what a mercy! She helped Amy at her house, and me at my house, while life flew along each day ever closer to that wedding in May.  Besides, there were the coffee times. Whatever will I do with no girls here at home to talk, laugh, cry, and fight with! I'm so blessed.
      I learned last week that the writers in the family who have elderly about to pass on, should take a little time and effort and write up a nice obituary for their loved one, even before they are gone.  I cannot believe that I did not even once think of it. I certainly could have prepared a rough draft that had all the right things in there and the wrong things outta there. A thoughtful piece that didn't miss anyone important. (Mom's did not miss anyone, but it has happened, I know.) And has the right bits of history and lore and memories thoughtfully prepared and prayed over. It felt a little heartless to me for the undertaker to be responsible for that piece of Mom's life/death. Didn't he have enough to do? We are profoundly grateful to him. He was kind and said he was praying for us as a family and everything. But honestly, that was one thing I could have done for Mom at the end and I didn't think of it until we were out of time.

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