Wedding Song - God Knew That I Needed You

Saturday, May 2, 2020

AN UNTYPICAL TYPICAL DAY


Over the course of the past 610 days since ‘we’ morphed into a solitary ‘me’, my typical days have taken on a decidedly untypical pattern.

This afternoon, I am sitting alone, in the home we bought together had had planned to enjoy a typical joint retirement in. Instead, I am a solo lobo now; listening to raindrops tap-dance across the roof ... and looking out the livingroom window; watching the ornamental alliums bloom into purple blossoms. They are looking pretty shabby this year due to the sogginess of the rainfall – and the combination of strong river winds blowing through, and strong sunrays shining down on them coupled with life-sucking-humidity when the sun deems to make an appearance. I think, when the blossoms die back, I will plant the bulbs among the flowers in the flowerbeds.

I had intended to do that last year; but last year I was struggling to survive, myself; bravely adjusting to the untypical rhythms of a new life I am expected to fit myself to: the survival of plant life was the last thing in my thoughts in 2019:

Looking pretty pitiful: as well as being thoroughly soggied with rainfall, and burnt with strong sunrays; they may also be root bound. Relocation may help.

This year I am doing better. I have managed to keep myself alive and thriving; and I have started planting my veggie beds on time – I did not seed trays and then watch them sprout and die from neglect because I was vegetating with grief. I am still grieving to an extent, and I will no doubt always grieve the loss of my husband’s presence in my life … but, nothing so far in 2020, is dying on the vine.

And that is due to typical perseverance; and a reluctance to give in and give up.

I, as well as my gal pals, are determined to stick to routine in our untypical typical days during this time of uncertain pandemic and egotistical demoncrat governor power grabs.

Yesterday, was a busy day as I whirled through my day like a whirling dervish trying to get everything done before sundown. And I did it!

First off, I showered; then cut my bangs back – and noticed the gray streak in my bangs has widened significantly. I’ve been a grandmother for 29 years – Bob’s 1st granddaughter was born in 1990, our granddaughter together was born in 1995, Bob’s 3rd granddaughter was born 1997, and our grandson together was born in 2014: I’ve waited a looooong time to wear gray hair like other grandmothers: and I’ve earned every single one of them with our children’s recent behaviors …

The gray streak in my bangs has lightened & widened significantly. I like it. I know ... I'm a weirdo ;-)
The top layers are getting grayer and grayer every day – basically just the long ends are my natural hair color. YIPPIE! Bob would be laughing at my excitement :-D

Bob started going gray in his 40’s, and was totally gray in his 50’s. At 63, I still have a lot of my natural hair color … but it is beginning to disappear. And that’s okay with me ;-)

With inslee’s ridiculous and unnecessary state shutdown, my hair’s baby-fine ends will need to be cut back quite a bit when the salons reopen; and that may be the end of my natural hair color – the graying of my hair in the upper layers, which are lengthening with each month that passes, may be all that is left when my hair is trimmed and reshaped. I’ll look like a different person ;-)

Yesterday, I also deep cleaned the spare bath: including doing what I can to lighten the dark tub ring stained by the previous owner. It lightened up some; and I’ll keep working at it until I am satisfied with the result. God knows, I have enough time on my hands now.

I did 6 loads of laundry. Yes; even though I am a solo lobo now, the laundry still piles up.

I baked bread:

Baked 2 loaves of White Bread; there are still some Shabbat Challah Rolls in the freezer for Shabbat meals.

And played phone tag with Cheryl and Carla throughout the day until Suppertime. They wanted to touch base with me and make sure I was okay – and let me know they were thinking of me: I appreciate their love. We talked about our days. We joked with each other. Love was flowing with fingertips and bonded hearts.

Yesterday was a good day, as far an untypical typical day can be.

Today, I learned how to reset the digital camera clock settings – day/month/year … I could not have learned that if Bob were still here: my frustration at trying to figure it out would have had Bob doing it for me.

But Bob is no longer here: so, I forced myself to figure it out – and I did it.


AND … I managed to get it done without hunting for the instruction’s manual. I am feeling pretty pleased with myself ;-)

And all kidding aside – I felt certain Bob was looking over my shoulder, grinning with pride at this simple accomplishment.


It’s the little things – the simple routine (rigid, ordered, routine) things (and doable new learning experiences that make me think a little harder) that keep me grounded and steady in uncertain and chancy times.

I am relieved that in my 16th month/18th day/8th hour of widowhood, I am functioning as typically as I can in the untypical circumstances I am faced with.

Widowhood combined with inslee’s restrictive covid-19 demands could seriously handicap my healing and growth process if I allowed it.

But, I don’t allow it.



I answer to Elohim.


I answer to myself.


And I am careful when I am in contact with others – not so much for myself, because I’m not fearful; but for their peace of mind. People working in the public are fearful, so I do what I can to ease their minds when dealing with them … and my friends are all older than I am with health issues; so, I understand their concerns when I am out and about. They know I won’t be tethered – and I know they worry I may get infected when I leave the house.

I joked with Cheryl that I hope we 3 (her, Pam, and me) can get together like before, sometime before 2022: she texted laughing memes, but we know there is a very real possibility this thing with inslee could go into 2022. I’m the “baby” of our trio. Cheryl is 67, Pam is 65, and I am 63: none of us are spring chicks, and time won’t stand still until we can get together again, mere inches apart instead of houses apart: over coffee again. I am also the healthiest of we 3. It concerns me that inslee continues dragging his feet while worshipping at the altar of science; aiming for hamstrung biden’s VP position.

I can’t wait forever for inslee to break with science and get real.


Life continues to march forward.


So, I try to make the best of my untypical typical days.

I am functioning better this year than last year – thanks to Yeshua’s healing grace.

I eat and sleep well – thanks to Elohim’s faithfulness.

My house and clothes are clean – thankfully, I have not sunk into widowing despair like some have; and I refuse to allow inslee’s nazi tactics to suck me into the whirlpool of hopelessness some are feeling.

Sometimes, I buck the blue mood edging widowhood and inslee’s iron-fited restrictions, and get out of the house, and out of Dodge; to do something interesting & fun …


… like going for a 7-hour-round-trip-drive just to revisit old haunts Bob & I used to enjoy, and to feel the wind in my hair with the moon roof wide open.

… like hiking trails and enjoying the nature Yeshua designed and created.

… like waking up early and watching the moon go down and the sun come up – something Bob always did; and I am coming to appreciate.

… like buying a cheeseburger and jo’s at the local minit-mart and eating it on the beach while watching the sunset break over the horizon.

But, as freeing and as liberating as these small pleasures are, it’s ALL a pale comparison of the life I had with my husband in it. The life where I was sheltered in his loving embrace, and laughing softly as he whispered in my ear what he wished we were doing at that particular moment in time. The life where the burden of being responsible for daily life running smoothly, was shared between 2. The life where the workload was halved – and the love doubled. The life where enjoyment was spontaneous … and the routine was less rigid.

The changes forced on my life through the restrictions of covid-19 is an additional loss I find myself juggling with as I come to terms with the losses forced on my life centered around the absence of my husband in my life.

Juggling all the changes in play, on any given second of any given day –centering around untypical typical days.


SCIENCE IS NOT MY SALVATION



Well ... I always knew this day would come.

I didn't know HOW it would come.

I didn't know WHAT would set it in motion.

But I ALWAYS KNEW this day WOULD COME.

And I've PREPARED for it, all my life.

I am ready to meet it head-on ... not in a badass way (which is a hallmark of my life); but in a Faith way - also a hallmark of my entire life.

I've been expecting this day.

And now demoncrat governors have put it right out there: if anyone does not bow to the alter of science, they will be considered an enemy of the state, more specifically; and an enemy of the world, in general.


science is the religion of the world.


science is now the governing voice of reason according to demoncrat governors playing political games with power grabs.

But, science is NOT my God.

My God is CREATOR ... and science must bow TO Elohei - not the other way around.

science is NOT my voice of reason.


My ears are tuned ONLY to the reasoning of The Ruach Ha'Kodesh.

Faith in Elohei has never steered me wrong. E.v.e.r.

I am, this Shabbat, at another crossroad in my life also concerning fellowship; I don't know yet where I will be when this virus blows over (rumor is that it could last another 2 years before governor restrictions are lifted).

I only know I am NOT going to bow at the altar of science ... and my life will not be ruled by laws ... and I know I will not be comfortable fellowshipping in state churches showing themselves to be hamstrung by fear and state regulations; and ruled by the religion of science.

I am a Christian. I have been a Christian since 1965.

I guess that makes me an enemy of the state. And an outcast among state-stamped-{christians}.

So be it.



I always knew this day would come - and I've known I'd be facing this day alone (sans family), since 1991: I was shown a vision with my eyes open.

I've been prepared for this day all my life.


The iron-fisted-gauntlet has been thrown down; and I am ready to meet the challenge head-on.


The Lord is my Strength, my Shield, and my Buckler: IN HIM I put my trust. I do not fear what man can do to me.