life — Page 335

Tough Tuesday

February 28, 2012 at 9:00 am by Claudia

The flowers are pretty, aren’t they? Try as I might, I don’t usually have the patience to remove all the paraphernalia from the kitchen table before I shoot a photo. There’s always something in the way.

I am going to ‘not be in the way’ today when the workers come to take down the willow. It will be a big job, it’s incredibly tall. I’m going to take care of some business and leave the home front to Don. I’m sure I’ll see some of the activity because I have to get the car back by 2:30 for Don to go to work. Hopefully (fingers crossed) most of it will be done by that point.

I’m used to the idea now. I know it has to come down. Still – I will probably get a shock when I return. My yard is already a muddy mess from the work on the septic system. Now, it will be missing a massive tree that sheltered our front yard, provided privacy from the busy road, and whose graceful branches swayed gently in the breeze.

Okay. I have to stop or I’ll cry.

Toughen up, Claudia.

New in the Etsy Shop:

The scarf in a rich burgundy, crocheted in silk/bamboo. Soft and silky to the touch.

I’ve had a few people approach me about special orders. If you want one, don’t hesitate to email me or convo me on Etsy. I’m happy to make them. It may take a bit of time as each scarf is made by yours truly and, as far as I know, there are no elves around here to help me out! But I love making them for you.

And to tell the truth, crocheting and the rhythm of it is enormously calming. So bring those orders on!

On Hearts

February 27, 2012 at 10:06 am by Claudia

I found this heart-shaped stone on our walk the other day. It’s small and pretty nearly perfect. I put it in my coat pocket and promptly forgot about it until this morning. It needed rescuing from the dark depths of my pocket – it needed to see the light of day.

Heart shapes evoke strong feelings. Yes, there is the “I love…” symbolism, Valentine’s Day and all that. But within that heart are joy, sorrow, despair, hope, pain, loss, heartbreak, and compassion. So many things contained in one symbol. I never used to be a fan of heart-shaped anything. There was too much of it everywhere. It had become trite. Every bumper sticker I saw had “I {heart-shape} something or other.” Too much. Too little meaning.

But Scout has a heart-shape on her side. Is that a message of some sort? I like to think so.

When I think of heart-shapes these days, I think of so much more than the romantic symbolism. I think of all the emotions we experience every day. I think of those in pain, suffering at this very moment. Of those who are lost and frightened. Those who have lost a loved one. Those whose compassion for their fellow man is astonishing. Those who fight for the rights of our animal friends. I think of everyday people who do heroic things. I think of those who are struggling to hang on to their houses or jobs, whose hearts are breaking. I think of those who have no home and are trying to rebuild their lives.

I think of my dad who told me last night that he thinks his body is shutting down – who feels heartbreak every day. Or my mom whose heart is still beating, even though she is desperately tired and unhappy and has given up.

I think of all of us who are striving to be good people every day. Those whose simple acts of kindness can turn a so-so day into a beautiful one. And of those who are pursuing a dream, hoping that it will come true.

I think of my beloved willow tree. Trees have energy and feelings, of that I have no doubt. If I could carve a heart into the willow, I would do that. But today I will have to say goodbye. It comes down tomorrow.

Heart-shapes have come to mean something entirely different for me than the traditional boy meets girl stuff. Now, when I sew one of my little hearts or find a heart-shaped stone, or discover this heart etched in the gravel just beyond our porch the morning after the destruction of Hurricane Irene —

I take heart.

I hope you take heart, as well, my friends.

Walking Together

February 21, 2012 at 9:48 am by Claudia

On a not-a-cloud-in-the-sky Monday, Don and I took a walk on the Rail Trail.

There is such beauty in the stark landscape of winter.

A splash of red berries against the browns and grays.

It felt good to be walking in the woods with my sweetie.

We, like everyone else I suppose, tend to get in a rut. Don works until late in the evening and I’m usually asleep before he gets home. I rise early. If we just let the time go by, Don doing his thing, me doing mine, before you know it, it’s time for him to leave for work and then our little window of opportunity is gone. We’re going to make a concerted effort to change that.

Yesterday we talked of camping, the smells of the forest, childhood memories, being a camp counselor, lashing together a lean-to. You know, the kind of exchange that doesn’t happen on just any old day. It was special and we need those special times together.

Then last night, I spoke with my dad. After our usual early evening conversation, he called me back. He’s so sad nowadays as he watches my mother drift away. He wanted – needed – to share some memories. Good memories. And some of them were of our family camping trips, days at the lake, driving us back to our respective colleges after a weekend at home. He talked about having very little money when my brother and I were kids. I assured him I never felt deprived. And that he was and is a good father. I’m crying as I write this, because my heart was touched so deeply by his need to talk about happy memories. His days now are about visiting my mother, hoping she might feel like talking, hoping to catch a glimpse of the wife he once knew. He’s devoted to her. He takes her magazines, and plays her favorite music, sometimes just sits there as she sleeps, holding her hand. Such sadness nowadays.

Don and I have been together over 17 years. My parents have been together 66 years. I don’t know how I would feel if I felt Don slipping away from me. I can only imagine the heartbreak, the realization that the end of our days together was near. How my parents, together so many years, can even begin to face this is beyond me.

Sometimes life is so beautiful. Sometimes it is absolutely heartbreaking. All in the course of one February day.

Tough Tuesday

On Hearts

Walking Together

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

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