The Holidays Are Coming

O joy, O joy!! I wish I was excited about the holidays, but I'm not. Usually, I'm a holiday person, but this year I'm just not interested. Things will be different this year. My oldest son has his own place now and his own life. It is a good thing for him, but not so great for mom. I miss him alot. I see him about once a week and talk to him a couple of times during the week, but it's a lot different than when he was walking in the door every evening. It has been a little over a month now and I still find myself some days waiting for that familiar sound. I know in my head that every little boy has to grow up and become a man, a husband, a provider and so forth, but it still doesn't make it any easier.

So, Thanksgiving is a couple of days away. Hubby and the youngest will be deer hunting, so that leaves me (with the dog!) to travel alone and see the parents. I suppose this is why Thanksgiving is not my favorite holiday. When the boys were younger I loved it. My husband would go hunting (I missed him!) and me and the boys would pile in the car and take off for my parents. We'd sing along to Christmas songs all the way. We'd cook til late and eat all day. On Friday we'd fight the crowds and check out all the new toys and I'd make mental notes of their lists. It signaled the beginning of Christmas.

Memories are so sweet! Lord, help me see the joy in this Thanksgiving. My parents are still with me and able to host dinner. Thank you for their presence in my life.

An Untouched Life

Today my mother-in-law brought my nearly 16 year old wedding dress to me. She had taken it and had it cleaned, bagged and boxed. (We recently found it while doing some major cleaning in the attic.) It was a lovely gesture. She said, "you never know, one day you may have a granddaughter who might want to wear it." Those few little words broke my heart. You see I learned yesterday that my oldest son's girlfriend had miscarried. I'm not thrilled with their choice to live together unmarried, but he is still my son and she is a wonderful girl. It wasn't a planned pregnancy and they were totally shocked to find out she had been expecting, but the sadness remains. A life, a child, a grandchild we never had the chance to touch, to hold, to love.

Life sometimes brings sadness. We don't always know what to do with the sadness. I know my God is capable of healing all wounds, of carrying the pain for me, but you have to release it to him for that to happen. Sometimes, we don't want to release our pain, sometimes we just want to hold onto it and not let it slip away from us. In the midst of it we don't realize that it's the release that heals us, that sets us free.

Father God, take good care of my unborn grandchild. Kiss his or her cheek for me and hold them safe in your arms.

My First Post and The Dog Is Driving Me Insane

I never realized how nervous I'd be writing this thing. I've read other blogs and all I can say is I'm probably not going to be that interesting, but I guess the idea is to write your feelings. I suppose writing is really a cathartic process, so maybe I'll learn something about myself along the way. So here goes . . .

Dogs are supposed to be man's best friend. Some even say they are able to see into their human masters and pick up on our moods, our health, etc. If that is so then my dog ought to be looking for the first opportunity to make a run for it! She's a 7 month old Cockapoo (a blue merle). She's actually a pretty good dog. She's pretty much housetrained (I can't remember the last time she had an accident), she's done okay in obedience classes, (she's a little on the rambunctious side), but she is one moody little witch. She gets a routine down pat and a couple of weeks go by and things are going really well and then one day she gets up and changes. I thought dogs thrived on consistency, but apparently mine thrives on driving me crazy.

Of course, my husband says I take the whole dog thing way too seriously and let the dog be a dog. In my defense -- he's not home with her all day. I'm thinking that maybe women should not have female dogs. It kinda goes back to that whole two women in one house can't be good for anybody thing. Regardless, my 12 year old son adores this mutt so she's not going anywhere, which means she and I (probably I) have to find a way to coexist.