Sittin On A Porch

Sittin On A Porch
Our little back porch

Saturday, April 20, 2013

April honeymoon

Months ago, before talk of marriage, before Daddy's fall, Bug and I had made reservations to come to this bike rally.  It is only 140 miles or so from the house.  You camp on site, so no DUIs, the entire 84 acres is set up for bike rallies.  The "town" looks like something out of the old west.  Board walks, double swinging doors on the two bars and people dressed in leather and boots.  It is a very cool place.  They have a stage set up in the center of the town and during the rally there is lots of music.  They have all the typical biker things, and the camp has filled up nicely, but the weather has not been conducive of riding.  Yesterday it rained from about 11 through the night.  We were lucky with all the campers, fifth wheels, motor homes and tents that we did not have to deal with tornadoes or hail like so many others along the path of this storm line.  Also staying in a fifth wheel is not like "camping"  it is "RVing".  You are snug and warm and dry which is wonderful since the tempterature has dropped from the 80s to the 40s.  Even with all the sun they are promising us today, it is only supposed to get into the mid to upper 60s. I can't wait for it to warm up to that.  I have looked out the window today, but have not ventured out into the cold sunlight.  I am not sure if I have ever mentioned it, but I do not like the cold.  I am a hot weather person.

Waynee Music Festival is going on at the Spirit of the Suwanee, but we already had our reservations here, and I am glad that we came, because it is very cool.  Hahaha, not just temperature, but also to come to a rally where people drive beautifual campers and motorhomes and drive gorgeous, expensive Harleys.  Each rally has its own personality, and this one is very interesting.  I do not stay up late, so not really the kind of person that enjoys rallies and concerts that involve late nights.  And they all involve late nights, but I enjoy the time we have spent here.  Mostly because it is escape from the real world.

I am doing better than I had anticipated, and I think better than most of the people knew me had expected.  I was close to my Dad.  I miss him.  I miss him mostly when I get home from anywhere.  I would call him and let him know I was home and safe  I miss him when I realize he will never see or hear or be a part of anything else in my life.  And yet I know that is not true at all.  He and my Mother are part of me and therefore will always be a part of everything I do.  But it is not the same.  I am not complaining.  I don't mind the little tug on my heart each time I realize I won't share something with Dad.  I am so lucky to have had that great of a relationship with someone in this world.  

I am still pretty much off and quiet away from my world.  My friends keep asking to share my world and let them be there for me.  That is hard for me.  My normal is  to try and be there for others, and then to hide and not impose when it is me.  That is so wrong and unfair to my friends, but it is strong in me.  I am spending more time in the garden.  That is helping me  Bending over and stretching out my long legs and arms.  Pulling weeds, dividing, moving plants to better locations, digging, and dreaming how beautiful the garden will be.  That soothes me like nothing else.  I love my husband and my animals.  I have family and friends that I adore with all my heart.  But the quiet peace of plants is healing me.  Not healing my cancer, healing me.  I still do not see my cancer as bad.  I appreciate all it has given me.  But because of the cancer and the drugs I am in need of the quiet healing of garden.

The loss of my Daddy, the horrible news of bombings and plants blowing up there is so much unhappiness in the universe that I escape to my plants.  I love how they grow, how they welcome the attention, how they quietly give back.  Somehow I can accept their gifts, where with my beloved ones I feel as if I am imposing. 

I know this is not fair, I realize that it is a gift to ask for a strong shoulder from someone, a gift for both, but I am not able yet.  My shoulders are thin and not as strong as they once were.  So I need more, and I will come back some day.  I hope so.  I miss my beloved ones.  Those familiar names here in my blog, that having been missing for so long.  But my chickens, with their flower names, Buttercup, Dewdrop, Brugmansia, Daisy, Iris, Hyacinth, Gladious, Magnolia, Camelia and Rose soothe me with their clucking.  Their roosters, John C Bennett and Mo, scurry around their hens, calling and scouting, always on guard to protect their precious flower girls.

My dear Kim described the wedding with my dear Vicki, Susan, Linda, Sioux and Lynnie always around me as a flower with beautiful petals each fluttering and dancing in their own beauty around the center of the flower who fluttered and spun in her own beauty.  Flowers, plants, earth, water, sunshine, shade, compost, my breathe, my nourishment, my soothing place to heal.  To cry and smile, to be quiet, or hum, sing or shout, the garden allows me that freedom.  It is helping.  But there is so much to do. 

The garden and I need this nurturing from each other. 
I am happy and humming more

Bug and I are away with each other, our April honeymoon.  We may not get away every month to have a honeymoon, but we will enjoy and appreciate anytime we can spend a little time to remember that we loved each other enough to make a commitment in front of precious one loved.  This month is a bike rally, in the rain, and its cold.  We are having the most wonderful quiet time away alone in our firth wheel.  We have everything we could need, and pretty much anything we could want.  We are away
We will leave tomorrow and spend a couple of days at home
then back to Daddy's
and the family
and life

1 comment:

  1. I have been some of the places you are, Ma'am. I recall walking out of the hospital ten years ago this year and sitting there under the cold stars thinking how unready I was to be the Old Man. But I am the last one left, so as you say, it falls to me. It gets better, some of it. (And I did much the same as you when I went back to Pop's house. I cleaned, and did the laundry, and put everything neatly away. I wasn't delusional; it just seemed like something that had to be done. And then I chose and packed away and donated.)

    Congratulations on your marriage! Bug looks like a fine man, and has excellent taste in hats. I have a black one much like his. (I have always worn a hat; now that I live in Montana it is no longer considered an eccentricity.) May you have a good life and many adventures!

    Your porch looks most inviting. The snow finally melted off of ours a couple of weeks ago, and it has been warm enough once or twice to sit out there after work and watch the bees and the chickens.

    It has been too long since I dropped by, for which I apologize. I am glad to see you are still doing well.