Thursday, January 15, 2009


So, apparently, it's been four days since I posted. Wow. Usually I'm a much "better" blog writer than that.

So what's been up?

Well, on Monday, my husband and I had a sort of impromptu date night. Usually we do that on Friday, but this week, it was Monday. So no writing then.

Tuesday was a long day. Not bad... just long.

Took a few pictures... they are special to me, and I will share one here. One I won't... I'm keeping it to myself for now.

To answer any potential questions... yes, that's snow. Yes, that's a red rose. And yes, that's a gravestone. Ever since last winter, when my grampa showed me what he was ordering for my Gramma's grave, I've been thinking about going out there. Thinking about making the 20 minute drive to see "it." But I haven't wanted to. I was afraid. Afraid it would hurt. Afraid I'd cry. Afraid maybe if I did cry, I wouldn't be able to stop. Afraid that it would be like getting that news all over again.

But it wasn't like that at all. When we pulled up, I scanned the cemetary, looking for it. You see, I'm a little ashamed to admit, but I have only been there two other times since she died. Once for the burial, and once that first Mother's day. There it was... shiny, black. Nobody had been out to the cemetary at all since the latest snow. No foot prints. Just drifting, pure, white snow. Seeing the stone there, so permanent, was somehow... peaceful. It proclaims for every person that sees it... 'But ye must be born again." It's what she'd have wanted. It's who she is. It's who he is. It's who HE is.

I will admit, seeing my grampa's name next to hers was almost like being slapped across the face. I guess somewhere, I knew it would be there. He will be buried next to her, and I knew that. I also knew they'd have one stone. But somehow, I didn't expect his name to already be there. And his date of birth. There's only one date under his name though... only a beginning. I watch him, and I know his heart is still broken. I know he still sits up at night missing her. But his life isn't over yet. He's still just had the beginning, not the ending. And so have I. I've just had a beginning. Sometimes, a quarter of a century sounds long. Sometimes it seems like there's nothing left. But really, I know there's more. So much more. And until I step into eternity, I know I will only have a beginning.


What, you may ask, is this? Well... this is what happens if the following applies to you:

-You live in a crazy cold place. Like one where your nose literally gets ice inside if you leave the house and take too many breaths.

-The ductwork for your heating system has not all be run and is not connected to anything useful.

-You do your dishes in the bathroom. The bathroom that is on the north side of your house in the freezing place.

-You keep the bathroom door closed, because your dishes are in there. And it's cold, because it faces north.

-You need to somehow get more insulation inside the wall that faces north in the cold bathroom.

-You leave the dish soap on the sink, touching the north wall.

-The temperature of the dish soap reaches its freezing point... whatever that is.

So yeah. Behold... what was once dark blue and transparent, is now light blue, slushy, and very difficult to squeeze out of the bottle.

*I'd recommend not doing this to your dish soap.

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1 comment:

Amanda said...

Thanks for the encouragement.... this weekend (or sometime soon) I'll try putting some plastic up. I'm hoping the boys will leave it alone. I love the dish soap! :D Your gramma's grave stone shot is beautiful! I'm the same way with my great gramma's grave... the only time I've gone is when we were roadtripping and happened past the cemetary and I wanted to drive past it!