I was emptying the dishwasher yesterday while the kids waited in the house by the kitchen door for the bus and I don’t know what Seth did to trigger the memory but as I put dishes away I remembered the time, years ago, when he took a baseball bat to the Christmas tree and forcefully hit a glass ball ornament.
I thought about this and then remembered my reaction when it happened.
I ran to get the camera.
That’s me. That’s who I am. I ran to get the camera for a photo of tiny Seth by the tree holding a whiffle bat with a silly smile on his face. It’s on Facebook somewhere, it may even be on the blog somewhere, too.
I didn’t sigh or cry or complain or get upset.
I took a picture of what I saw as precious, valuable beyond measure, dear dear messy BEAUTIFUL life. The real life I love.
Yesterday morning, before the children left for school I asked Seth and Sarah, “Should I make homemade bread today, a cake, or cookies?”
“Bread,” Sarah said firmly, “Homemade bread. I like the kind that’s braided.”
I haven’t been emotionally well and I haven’t been online in three weeks. Last night, with shaking hands, I went back on my laptop. I went on my blog and read comments. I saw that my friends here were asking how I was. I saw that my brother stepped in and reassured. I went on Facebook very briefly. I don’t feel safe there. I feel safe(r) here. So I’m trying to sneak back to my favorite writing-outlet, this blog that I’ve loved sharing in for so many years. Thank you friends, for caring. Thank you for taking the effort to continue to read. Thank you for asking for new posts when I was feeling so low I didn’t want to bother ever again.
I felt (and still feel) very fragile, vulnerable, childlike, humble. I have said to my husband (my hero) more than once, “I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.” I believe this is true, but maybe parts of me will be…..better? And surely there are still parts of the old me still inside, which I noticed yesterday, thanks to the burnt bread.
I’ve been at home, TRYING, in the quiet of the days. I’ve been reading, studying, watching tv, playing the piano, walking, writing, petting my cats. Thinking, learning, praying, singing, slowly, very slowly, healing.
Yesterday when I over-proofed Sarah’s bread so that the braids were practically unrecognizable, and then burned it, I found myself……….remarkably…….
I was amused (!) by the outcome of hours of work and very careful following of a recipe written in such detailed fashion that there was really no reason for it to fail.
I went for the camera. I took a photo. I laughed a little.
I felt like myself again. That same woman who ran for the camera when her son made a mess did it again! Ran for the camera!
I went outside to find Sarah, who in all this time had gone to school and come back again and decided to jump on the trampoline as she waited for the bread to bake. I was very curious to know what she would say when she saw my unfortunate creation.
We came in the house holding hands and eager. She was eager for bread, I was eager to hear what she would say.
“Oh! It’s burned!” is what she said, in the same tone of voice that she would use if she woke up expecting to go to school and then remembered, “Oh! It’s Saturday!”
Not that big of a deal, apparently. We’ve been cutting the burned part off and enjoying our 2 inch high “is it a braid or what” bread. If you put it in the toaster you can’t get it out unless you dig with a knife.
It’s the worst looking bread I’ve ever made, but tastes pretty darn good.
I’m glad I burned it. If it had been perfect I wouldn’t have gotten out the camera, but because it was burnt, I took a picture of it. And felt encouraged because I saw my heart again, the heart that can find amusement in the messes of living.
I burned my finger on Grace’s curling iron this morning which wasn’t as amusing.
I made the first fire so that I could burn a notebook of my writings that I knew I would never want to read again. Like my friend Lea Ann said, it had to go.
I collected hickory nuts from the side of the road.
I am at peace.
The same God who made the colorful sunset…..loves you and me!
A few weekends ago all of the children were home. It was wonderful.
The same weekend…..there are six dear ones in this photo. Enjoying the fall day, and each other.
Our Davy is seventeen now.
I’ve been seeing a lot of bird activity. This afternoon I saw four turkeys in the woods and stopped to watch them for a while.
I’m reading The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle (newbery book) and it’s AMAZING!!!!!!
Seth the football player, playing outside on the driveway here at home. We’ve been busy each weekend watching his games. He’s so good and quite adorable, I might add.
Sarah Joy, right before heading to the house for bread.
Home Sweet Home
Thanks to the burnt bread…..here I am, blogging again!