Archive for December, 2016

Dichotomy of Days

christmas-tree-2016-dichotomy

Joy then Grief
Excitement then Dread
Laughter then Tears
Celebration then Mourning
Lights then Candles
Feast then Fast
Forced forgetfulness then Flood of memories
Laughter then Tears
Elation then Depression
Embracing Christmas spirit then Remembering spirit passed
Focused on a birth then Focused on a death

grave-yard-cemetary-dichotomy

Context:  “…Christmas time is already bittersweet.  Daddy died at 4 am on  December 26, 2010.  With each passing year, I’ve worked very hard to separate, in my mind, Christmas from the day after Christmas.  Christmas is a time to celebrate, to recognize God’s greatest gift to us.  I pour everything I have into making it spectacular for my children.  Seeing them excited and happy fills me with so much joy.  The day after Christmas is a time of mourning.  I spend time with my family, listening to daddy’s songs and reading his comics.  I laugh and cry.  I remember.  I love.  I grieve what was lost.  I try not to think of what might have been.” – Written 12/2015

 

Advertisements

The Road to El Dorado

the-road-to-el-doradao1

I remember falling asleep as daddy described the house we’d live in one day.  The one he’d build for us when we got rich. He cheekily called our little, run-down trailer “Camelot.”

I grew up financially poor, but rich in spirit.  We lived in the woods in a trailer on my grandfather’s land.  It was a beautiful place to grow up, down a dirt road with a meadow out front, plenty of trees to climb and a pond to fish in, and old tobacco barns and “pack houses” to play in.  [  Some pictures show the beautiful solitude yet vacancy of care for the land. ]

home1 home - headquarters tree home7

(Camelot)

My family inherited a portion of the land I grew up on last year, after having waited over 10 years.  We’ve long since moved away and made a life elsewhere.  It would be unfeasible for us to return to Camelot to live, so we had to sell it.  It was bittersweet for me because I have such fond memories of the past, yet such high hopes for the future.  By selling, we could finally afford a home with more space than we had  (since the twins’ arrival, we had been bursting at the rims).  We knew these little ones weren’t getting any little-er.

Living in the city was so convenient.  However, I want my kids to grow up knowing what it’s like to breathe fresh air, plant gardens, and play outside until dusk, catching fireflies without fear of pedophiles or snoops of nosy neighbors who get upset if the grass grows a little too high or feel our fun-filled yard is an eyesore.

After over a year of searching, we’ve finally found our own little “Promised Land,” a nice bit of land with a house that fits us. It has a modest, two-story house with an upstairs suite just for grandma and an adequate downstairs living area that’s just big enough for our crew.  I cheekily called our humble abode “El Dorado” (Spanish for “The Golden One” or a fictitious City of Gold).

Since the twins were born, I’ve felt, I’ve believed, I’ve known, that I can’t look back.  Not anymore.  I have to let go of the things of the past in order to focus these precious moments and our future.  So daddy never bought us a mansion (nor did he buy me that Jaguar he promised me if I graduated college), but, with significant help from my mother, my heavenly father has provided what we needed right here on earth and I have no doubt that there is a huge mansion waiting for us all up in heaven; daddy’s waiting to meet us there at the top.

(El Dorado)

(Written October 2016 – Twins 2 years old, Mica 8, Hope 7)

Double Talk Quotes:

“Can I have a slip of yours drink?” – Bella

“Thank you” – Me, “I welcome” – Brooks

Bible Verse:   “A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children…” Proverbs 13:22

Term that has Lost its meaning:  Overly Sentimental

Relatable Lyrics:  “Your Song” by Elton John

“It’s a little bit funny this feeling inside
I’m not one of those who can easily hide
I don’t have much money but boy if I did
I’d buy a big house where we (all) could live”

Tag Cloud