Synchronicity

Thank you Jeri for allowing me to use this photo! 
I survived Thanksgiving. Miraculously, I survived turning 50 years old on Thanksgiving. Stop the presses- I survived turning 50 on Thanksgiving being without family the first time ever in my life. I survived the first holiday, since becoming a mother, without my babies. Okay, yes, they are adults but they will always be my baby boys.

Yeppers, I tend to take paths in life with the most obstacles - I guess, as they say, it makes me stronger.  Maybe that is why as we age and become wiser our hair turns gray, it is our shield of strength..Whatever. 

Now, when I get through Christmas in much the same circumstance, then I will know for a fact I am strong.

I do have to say thank you to my friends who invited me over for their family's Thanksgiving - I appreciated each and every invitation even though I declined them. I only did so as I was feeling sorry for myself and didn't want to be reminded of what I was achingly missing.

Instead, I played it by ear on Thanksgiving. My only plan was to do some cleaning and perhaps list some items on eBay.  Those who know me well, know I am not one to organize my social life with a well planned out calendar - I tend to fly by the seat of my pants, spur of the moment. It works for me and did so last Thursday, on Thanksgiving.

I awoke to my usual routine. Checking emails for work and posting weather and news to the paper's Facebook page.  As I scanned my newsfeed I saw a friend was about to go on a photography adventure, taking photos of a dilapidated abandoned home sitting on a country road in a neighboring county. Before I knew it, about 30 minutes later, she was outside my home in her vehicle, waiting for me to tag along.  Off we went.

I've gotten to know Jeri Rockwell through where our professions cross. I work for the paper and she works at the sheriff's office.  She's the first person I reach out to when I need mugshots or general info. Over the years, on Facebook,  I've watched her grown from an amateur photographer with a good eye to an extremely talented artist who should be known as a professional. Her photos are that good.

When we pulled up to that home I felt a sense of understanding. The house screamed its story to me- there it stood..on first glance you saw its age but something about it was still sturdy, it was not ready to give up. Upon closer examination, peering through the window, there was beauty in the way and where the floors and ceiling had caved given way.  You could tell at one point in time the home was a  welcoming beacon filled with love.

I could picture where the family gathered for meals - where they shared, prayed, laughed and sometimes cried, together.  That home was a library of stories- individual tales that came together in creating a series of novels - this is why it was still standing. It was still protecting secrets while being sustained by the nourishment of love that once was, even though it was standing there, alone.

Bittersweet, no?

I was grateful to have that experience, especially on our national holiday of Thanksgiving.

The caretaker in me does not like this new stage in my life. The mother in me yearns to see my children and wishes I could just be there to watch and witness as they navigate their lives. My boys are 10 hours away and on an adventure not many would have the courage to conquer. Their story is one of true strength and courage.

Change is hard but is needed to thrive in life rather than just existing. Right now this dreaded change is a chapter in my story, their stories-- our story.

With that...

Perhaps I need to dye my hair...

I'm not ready to give up, Christmas is on the way.








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