MORNING AT THE LAKE

I don't know what my purpose is anymore.

But, hiking is my passion – I hiked before I met Bob … I hiked while married to Bob (sometimes he would join me); and I enjoy hiking now. It’s in my blood.

This morning I went walking at the Lake with Trudy and Ed … and 13 other Club members; a few of them I had met already, but by and large the assembled group was made up of strangers. Becoming part of a group is a new thing for me – I’d always avoided large groups in the past: I was never good with new situations filled with new people.

This morning, before heading to the Lake, I affixed some pretties to my fanny pack zipper pulls; dragonflies, turquoise beads cluster, and one of Bob’s tie tacks.

I am determined to have a positive attitude …

New situations and new people can be fun and filled with wonderous excitement … but they can also be scary, overwhelming, and stressful.

These past 19 months I’ve tested waters I’ve never tested before – most of the waters tested have been shark infested, so it’s understandable that I’d shy away from swimming in crowded waters. I’ve been forced to become bold and brave as I kick off on my journey upstream; those are not new feelings for me, but it’s been a while since I’ve had to be bold or brave for myself – that’s been Bob’s job for the 44 years we were together: he liked being manly towards me, and I liked him being manly towards me.

But I was never comfortable in group settings. Not even with Bob by my side. So, meeting up with everyone this morning was a big deal for me.

A crucial step forward in this part of the new life I am creating without Bob in it.

Not an official Club Hike: just a friendly impromptu get-together.

A Social Hookup among friends: 15 people were wearing masks – I didn’t, but I kept to the social distancing requirement.

It becomes a 4 mile hike walking from the YMCA parking lot and back again ;-)

Talking about politics or religion is a no-no (though some people do); I’m okay with that rule. Frankly, I’m tired of the talk surrounding covid-19, the breakdown of our civil and national government, and the hateful rhetoric towards Christians. What bothers me when I’m in a group setting is the personal inquiries that inevitably come into play – those questions make me nervous and overwhelm me when I have to dodge them repeatedly.

Questions – innocent questions by most people’s standards – about my husband (don’t have a present one anymore); kids (thorny question, best avoided); grandkids (refer to query concerning kids); where I live (complicated). See what I mean? Talking about those issues is to me what talking politics and religion is to everyone else.

Some people asking me about my kids will judge me, saying that I don’t love my kids enough – if I did, according to them, I would fight harder.

I’ve fought hard for love’s sake for the past 37 years; I’ve fought really hard for 30 years, and I fought even harder for 25 years. I’m exhausted: I’m tired of fighting a losing battle.

Some people asking me about my kids will understand that sometimes – no matter how much you love someone, and how hard you fight to keep pumping CPR into a gasping situation … sometimes love ceases to thrive because the other person is not cooperating; and you just have to step back, trusting the situation to the Lord.

That’s where I’m at with the kids and grandkids … and those inquiring minds.

What is happening is a spiritual battle, and I’ve done all I know to do – all I can do that is humanly possible to keep our family together. But the demented spirit of socialism, communism, and paganism that has infiltrated the public education institutions since the 1950’s in universities and colleges was implemented into elementary and high schools in the 1970’s: and it has poisoned our children and grandchildren until they are toxic with the hatred that has society in a death grip today. My children and grandchildren embrace that putrid ideology, and have kicked me out of their lives – the final kickout occurring July 1^st … 14 days ago.

I don’t know if anything is salvageable.

I do know that I, personally, am done. I’ve gone as far in this twisted love relationship as I can go. If there is anything left to salvage, the battle belongs to the Lord. Yeshua can take the fight up, and they can deal with Him.

The kids don’t want me involved in any way in their lives; unless it involves money and gifts: then they will put their socialist “capitalism pigs” propaganda aside for that. What I’ve gone through with them over the years – and more specifically, since their father/grandfather’s spirit stepped off this planet – is shameful. They feel no shame. And I’ve reached my limit.

I’m stepping back and moving on … and Yeshua can give me updates if and when progress is made.

I have never been able to comfortably talk about family relations before Bob … or after Bob. Talking about the family I grew up in; and the family Bob and I forged with such high hopes, is painfully uncomfortable: both are disasters and there is no good way to spin either.

And the neighborhood I currently live in, is where the people that killed my husband still live – there is nothing good that can be said about where I live except that I am honoring my husband’s last words to me: “Keep the house, Val”. And I am doing that. It isn’t easy to walk to the Park Office with the month’s lot rent check; but I am doing it. It isn’t easy to hear other Park neighbors singing the praises of the woman – current Park Manger – who ruined our life, and wiped out my future with my husband. I am doing it with Bob’s face ever before me, and his words echoing in my mind: “Keep the house, Val”.

Today, while walking around the Lake, I was asked the questions I dreaded. I answered without further explanation: I do have children and grandchildren … they live out-of-State; I live at Heron Pointe. End of discussion.

I’d rather not talk about my family, or where I live until I am comfortable with the person I am speaking with.

I’d rather talk politics and religion with strangers: it’s a safer ground for me to tread. But no one wants to poke that sleeping dog.

So, I answered amicably, and kept walking.

Cormorants are fish eating water birds with webbed feet and a straight bill. Their feet are set back on the body so they are awkward walkers on land. (https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/double-crested-cormorant)

Kayaker; there were 3, but I only captured 1 before they were out of sight. I like hearing the Church bells; they ring out every day.

I almost missed this Great Blue Heron as I walked by … it was a "picture perfect" moment ;-)

Longview was stinky today; But, I did not have to break out my inhaler. Thank Yeshua!

Walking, occasionally talking, and glancing around now and then; it struck me that no matter how many times I revisit places Bob and I visited, it still feels strange being in those places – those places we both enjoyed – knowing I am the only one of us there. My head turns to the left or the right: and he is not walking alongside me. He will never walk alongside me in the flesh again. My small hands will never feel his large hands reaching out to engulf my hand in a love touch as he interwove his long fingers with my smaller fingers. I will never again bask in his sexy wide grin, or laugh as he tickled the inside of my palm and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at me while we walked the Lake Park trails.

I really miss Bob.

But Elohim is faithful – He has placed people in my life to share this small part of my life while my heart heals. It is not easy to rebuild a life from scorched earth; the barren landscape can be intimidating: but today I was with people – having a good time. Thinking about nothing in particular; just enjoying the moment in time. The missingness was eased.

And even though Bob’s presence is missed, his presence is also felt.

Undeniably.

Felt.

Doing new things in old, familiar places, does not signify the ending of things – or people past. One way or another, we carry our past with us; no matter what we do. Always. You can’t get around that fact. You can’t get over it, or under it: you just have to work through it.

Yesterday was the mark of 19 months without Bob in my life. But I am not crying 24/7 anymore; and I am no longer avoiding places we used to go together.

So, here I go – I’m not sure what will happen; but here I go.

I’m doing better with meeting new people, but it’s still difficult.

We 7 were the first to finish the walk: 2 left, and I pulled up a stump in the cool shade of the YMCA building.

Trudy and her walking companion arrived ...

And Ed & Art brought up the rear. Time to go home.

One foot in front of the other, into the future.

I am healing.