I’m sitting with my bottom on one chair and my feet on another. The furniture will no doubt outlive me. It’s old and I have learned to treat it with respect but a lot less concern than I once did…after all it was bought to bring ME comfort.
The sun is on my back and I am trying to resist dozing off. A nap would result in my being wide-eyed half the night.
My room is a collage of memories. The Hummel figurines a little the worse for wear…missing fingers or in one case a telescope that is long lost…now the little boy just gazes up into the sky.
A family portrait fell off the wall the other day. It scared the wits out of me, but the crack in the glass missed any faces and rolls down my right shoulder and across my dress.
Harry’s photo is on my right…one taken when he was an Alderman. He’s wearing a “Mona Lisa” smile, and yes, I have actually seen the Mona Lisa. It’s a very small painting with just a hint of a smile.
The china cabinet was one my mother had. Its curved glass reflects a mumble jumble of bits and pieces from my childhood, and some things from our travels. Above it sits an old clock that no longer keeps proper time. It perhaps mimics my present life…things not quite as accurate as they once were.
I’m here because God still has a plan for me…friends to comfort in their old age, Bible studies to share, family to love and support and my church Eldership responsibilities. (I did back off from serving Communion anymore as my arthritic thumbs no longer can be trusted to hold the Communion trays.)
God has granted me fairly good eyesight…a miracle when I think back to the abuse of reading by flashlight under the covers, as a teen-ager. The TV remote looks after some hearing loss but I find people’s voices are much softer than they used to be.
My home is certainly a reflection of myself…a little worn but still carrying on and still adjusting to change.
Recently a large fir tree fell during a wind storm. I miss it but I can now see farther across town and I have gotten accustomed to the different landscape.
The same could be said about my widowhood. I have accepted the loss and am looking at a new landscape. My memories are packed into many things in the house, but my vision of the future has changed. God was always there but now He is front and center of my life. It is a rather bitter-sweet realization that I had to lose something to gain something else, but somehow there is a message there for me…so I will listen…I will listen carefully.
