AUGUST

A garden is where hope grows & healing begins ...

I was doing fine until August.

August, I think, will always be the month that trips me up.

August … a lifetime ago … started out so good.

August, recently, ended so badly.

Let me rephrase that: August, for Bob, ended with him walking through the Pearly Gates in December; and walking all over God’s Heaven wearing a white robe, a gold crown, and golden slippers. It’s only down here on Earth, where what started in August, hurts badly.

I am doing my level best to keep my little corner of this world intact; I am doing all I know to do to keep the kingdom Bob blessed me with running smoothly and operating functionally. I am doing reasonably well in maintaining my Queendom without my King Bee alongside me.

And most days I do okay.

I was doing fine until August.

There are a LOT of memories tied to August: in 1974 Bob & I decided we couldn’t wait any longer to start our life together – we applied for, secured, and used the Marriage License. Also in 1974, our daughter was conceived sometime the first week of our marriage (between August 27^th and the 1^st week of September); Bob’s Birthday is August 30^th – that day is the greatest blessing to me, and the greatest pain to me: I was blessed the day Bob cleared his mother’s womb in 1949 … and I was pained the day he was admitted to the local ER; in 2018 and we were told he was dying: in 1949, his life was beginning, in 2018, his life was ending.

This August is the 2^nd August I’ve gardened in the garden beds he designed and built for me … and he is not here to enjoy the planting, tending, or harvesting of the gains his loves gifts are producing for me:

Moon in the day sky.

I counted 20 ears of corn starting on the stalks.

14 stalks of corn - 6 ft+ tall in the raised bed Bob designed & built for me. Doing MUCH better this year.

Dog poop in the back yard - I took pic and talked to candy about it. Doubt anything will be done about it ... dogs are not supposed to be off leash in the Park.

Herbs harvested & drying.

Thankful I had a loving husband. Bob built me garden boxes and rain barrel stands; he knew I loved to garden.

An industrious bee. As long as the bees stay away from me, they can stay.

Small Red Onions harvested to allow others to grow larger; 2 full-size mini Eggplants.

Chives. Needs to be picked clean, and clipped for freezing.

Very small salad gleanings. The lettuce is cut-&-come again lettuce that is just about played out. The tomatoes are just starting to ripen on the vines.

Harvesting in small measures add up to big Winter enjoyable edibles: Parsley up front; Collards, Beet Greesn & Swiss Chard behind parsley - and Carrots in back. All waiting to be prepared for the freezer.

I am thankful for my garden – my garden keeps me busy, which keeps me sane when the missingness is great.

I am getting out and doing things, so inactivity is not the problem. Even with covid – I have not allowed the hypersensitive covid hysteria to slow me down at all. Inactivity is not the problem.

The problem is that Bob is not here. That is the problem.

I cannot be busy enough to change the fact that Bob is not here: he will never be here again. Going for a drive, visiting with friends, meeting new people, shopping, going for a walk, engaging in a hobby, ect.-ect.-ect. … is not going to change my situation.

I don’t dwell on that fact; like I stated earlier, most of the time I do okay – I have learned over the past 19 months/29 days/15 hours & 24 mins how to move forward and “do okay”. I may be creeping forward at a comfortable pace; but at least I am moving forward. Some widows and widowers get stuck on shoulders of the highway of life – I am often veering off one exit ramp after another looking for adventure to spice my life up a bit … but always, always at a comfortable pace. I’m not in a race: I am not in competition with anyone. I am just trying to build a life without the love of my life.

In this crazy upside-down world that has been turned on it’s ear due to the demoncrat political insanity, blatant violent racism, and covid fearmongering; I miss the stable and steady comfort of my husband. Bob was my strength; Bob was my anchor. I could count on him opening his arms to me, holding me, and assuring me everything would be okay – and I would feel securely okay in his arms. Bob’s presence in my life could always make everything feel okay; even, and especially, when things were not okay.

And now things are not okay; and he is no longer here.

And no amount of busyness; no amount of getting out of the house; no amount of letting my mind vegetate as I go about my business tending to my vegetable gardening area is going to change that. That so not going to change.

Aside from missing my husband … I miss me.

I miss the me I was with him – only with him because he brought ‘me’ into being. With Bob I was soft. I was romantic. I was spontaneous: with a sense of fun – I had a lightness of being when I was with Bob.

I miss Bob.

I miss me.

I miss US.

Over the past year – from last August to this August – I have begun to create a new life for myself separate from the life I shared with Bob. I know I will continue to create and reshape that new life until the day I, too, am clothed in a white robe with golden slippers on my feet, walking all over God’s Heaven. And I know, that down here on Earth, there are people new to my new life that like me as I am; and appreciate the person I am becoming separate from Bob in my new solo lobo life.

But I also live with my past life – the life I shared with Bob: that life will always be a permanent part of my new life. I am learning how to splice these 2 lives together – I have never watched Bob splice metal lines together, as he did on occasion when he was a logger; but he told me how he did it, and I remember … so that is how I am strengthening this life I must live, and live successfully if I am to live a fully healed life.

Here’s the kicker: even as I do all these things that I must do – even if most of the time I am doing them with a grateful grace … there is a heaviness I carry: a heaviness that I cannot just put down some place and walk away from. It is a heaviness of ‘knowing’ that cannot be undone. It is a heaviness in my heart, in my thoughts, and in my body that makes my heart hurt – my thoughts sluggish – and my body drag like I am wearing cement shoes that makes it extremely difficult to move forward.

Most of the time I do okay.

I stay busy.

I try not to overthink.

I remind myself that I am Bob’s Queen.

Queens do not retreat.

But there are days that do weigh me down; and I am exhausted at the end of those days. I am exhausted like I’ve engaged in a triathlon race – Bob and I used to watch those things on TV, and they were brutal: some days I do feel like I am going through a brutal time of things.

August through December is going to be brutal.

And I am thinking moving forward and onward is going to take some time.

On days like that – days like today – the colorful evening sky sooths …

Evening sky over the Park.

SUNDAY~FUNDAY #17: Lunch on Steamboat Slough Road

The last few days I’ve not been getting to bed before 4 AM – and sometimes not until 5:30 AM; so, I’ve been sleeping the mornings away … and morning hours is when most people want me to do things with them.

I’m missing the morning meetups because I’m missing Bob.

All of August, September, October, November and December are going to be blurry months. I’m not going to be very attentive, because I’m going to be putting my thoughts on hold. Those months – e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y.o.f.t.h.o.s.e.m.o.n.t.h.s. – are going to be hard to get through.

It is true that I’m done with hard grieving.

I’ve never mourned – Bob’s spirit still lives: it just doesn’t live on my reality level anymore; Bob had graduated to a higher level of living.

But I do miss Bob’s presence.

And I don’t want to think too much about those months Bob’s body was shutting down and his spirit was taking flight. So, I am putting those images and emotions on hold.

But sometimes the thoughts jump the safeguards and refuse to be reined in, and hit with a 1-2 punch that hurts; and I am too wired to sleep.

Hence the nightbird and sleepyhead activities of late.

I’m thinking that will continue until well into January 2021 sometime.

People don’t “get it”; and I am tired of explaining it.

Last night (or rather, early this morning) when I dropped into bed; I didn’t wake up until after 9 AM. I’d only had 4 hours of sleep. I wanted to enjoy a Sunday~Funday activity, but a long daytrip drive was out of the question – it just would not have been a safe or prudent thing to do.

What to do?

A long drive was not wise today.

Neither was staying home and feeling trapped by thoughts I didn’t want to revisit; covid restrictions that are never going to end according to fauci; losing hope of ever enjoying the Senior Group activities I joined this year … or becoming an active member of the hike club I had hoped to join (these things have been halted due to covid restrictions and ramped up fearmongering). I hate feeling trapped, and I buck against hopelessness.

While I was making the bed, I decided a half hour drive would be okay: and the activity once I got to where I planned on going, would keep me active (which would keep me awake and functionable); and I’d … hopefully … sleep like a baby tonight after all the walking.

We only get one shot at this life on Earth – I am not going to spend it feeling helpless or hopeless.

Now that my life is so rearranged, it’s time for a cool change; and a river breeze sounded good to me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bKwRW0l-Qk

I’m not keen on water – it actually terrifies me; but as long as I’m not too close to it or in it (like swimming or boating), I do okay with it. Willow Grove County Park is closer: 5 minutes away, but people swim/and let their kids swim in the Columbia River; and I didn’t want to watch some dumbass, or their kids, drown – I’ve done my stint of death watch in 2018, and I don’t feel the need for Columbia River trauma drama this year. So, I don’t think I will walk the trail at Willow Grove until swimming season is over.

I pulled some clothes on/tied my hiking shoes on, grabbed my backpack, and packed a light lunch – placed atop an ice pack in one of the large containers I used to pack Bob a Supper in when he drove for Lemmon’s: I put that in one of the backpack pockets. I also grabbed one of the books I’d bought at a Headquarters Road garage sale yesterday, and threw that in the backpack too. I planned on spending the whole afternoon at the Julia Butler Hansen Refuge.

The book I started reading while eating lunch.

Julia Butler Hansen Refuge from Heron Pointe - 32 mins

I parked on the Cathlamet Office end of the Refuge this trip. When I had walked the trail a month ago, I had walked the trail from the Skamokawa end (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/07/sundayfunday-14-julia-butler-hansen.html).

The Refuge Office where I parked the car.

Plan for the day ...

The day was perfect for walking.

I enjoy walking – I enjoy hiking.

I enjoy being outdoors, in nature.

There was a little breeze kicking up, and it felt good: it counteracted the 81-degree sunshine. There was birdsong on the breeze. There was the earthy smell of the exposed mudflats. There was the pungent odors of the sun-warmed fields, cut grasses along the roadsides, and the wildflowers and berries.

I was in my element 😉

The bramble bushes were taller than me, so the sun-warmed, juicy berries, were nose level. Very aromatic.

Blue Nightshade. Pretty little poisonous weed.

The toxic berries that follow the pretty blue flowers of the weed.

Long, thin purple blossoming loosestrife spires.

Large Purple Bull thistle.

Cattails in the slough.

Cows - the gentle breeze carried thier soft moos on the wind.

Morning Glory among the cattails in the slough.

Japanese knotweed. Chartreuse green leaves with a foam green blossom that turns white.

Jewelweed. Tiny orange trumpet-like blossoms.

Tansy. This little flower looks like a lot of tiny yellow dots.

Cow Parsnip.

I happened to look up at the sky when birds flew overhead, and what I saw intrigued me … it looked like twin shooting stars were streaking across the sky:

I watched this for a few minutes ...

The 1.3-mile walk to where I planned to eat my lunch and read a few chapters appeared around the bend. I saw a great blue heron standing in the mudflats between pilings, so I walked gently so as not to disturb it.

Great Blue Heron on the mudflats of the slough.

Bob always liked seeing them: he would have enjoyed seeing this one – it was huge. Apparently, it is enjoying “the life of Reilly” here on the Refuge. LOL

Lunch break spot.

Stinking chamomile at my feet; it resembles a daisy, but the leaves are a ferny vine.

I sat on the cement block eating my lunch, reading my book, and watching the waters of Steamboat Slough, and the Columbia River beyond it, flow.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzLCzhYdxfo)

Vehicles flashed by on their way to Horntra’s Beach. A couple walked past. And a few bicyclists pedaled past. You meet friendly people when you’re out and about.

Lunch finished; book page corner bent to mark where I left off reading … I slipped my backpack on, and got back to walking.

Geese on the mudbanks of the slough.

Baby goslings swimming! I didn't see these until later on, at home when I zoomed pic in.

Little purple milk thistles - finches love this.

Another mile ahead, the Trailhead came into view.

Little yellow balloon blossoms, on the trail - Google was not helpful in identification.

I was dogged by buzzards on the trail ... I’d been walking briskly in the hot sun – I probably didn’t smell very sweet; but I didn’t think I smelled dead. LOL

There wasn’t much happening on the trail.

But I didn’t care.

I walk to free my mind and just be.

I don’t think any more than I absolutely have to when I am walking.

I pay attention to my surroundings, I notice the flowers, animals/sights and sounds all around me … but that’s it: I don’t think too hard. Walking is my relaxing time – my ‘down time’. I don’t walk to brag about where I’ve been. I don’t speed walk to melt off alcohol or dessert calories. I walk to shake off the world’s stress and nonsense. I want my mind free to absorb nature around me – I walk for physical/emotional/spiritual balance. I try not to absorb more than the sigh of the breeze in the treetops, or as it passes by my ears: when I walk, I want nature talking to me: and I want my senses to be free to listen.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OnDu1HHOo78

When I reached the end of the trail and pivoted for the backtrack back to the Highlander, my steps had morphed from ‘walk’ to ‘hike’ – by the time I reached my parked car, I would have 5½ miles under my belt.

Purple leaves - white, ball shaped blooms: don't know what it is - Google is not helpful.

The wild roses are done for the season.

Pink, fluffy spire of Rose Spiraea looks like a wand of cotton candy.

Red-osier dogwood; white berries bush.

High tide - geese with goslings have moved to higher ground.

I had spent 4 hours enjoying the pleasant solitude; the cares and worries of the world had been left back home, in Longview. And I had left the car windows open a bit, so when I got back to the car as the sun was slipping towards the horizon; it was in the shade, and cool inside.

I don’t know what I want to do with my life; yet.

Things are in a continual rearranging mode.

Right now, I’m just going with the flow … and whatever happens: happens.

But I know I’ll sleep like a baby tonight 😉

**SUNDAY~FUNDAY POSTS (2020) –

#16 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/08/sundayfunday-16-ive-earned-my-wings.html

#15 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/07/sundayfunday-15-longbeach-illwaco.html

#14 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/07/sundayfunday-14-julia-butler-hansen.html

#13 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/07/sundayfunday-13-haydu-park.html

#12 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/06/sundayfunday-12-fathers-day.html

#11 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/06/sundayfunday-11-kalama-waterfront-walk.html

#10 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/05/sundayfunday-10.html

#9 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020_04_27_archive.html

(plus 1st thru 8th SUNDAY~FUNDAY links)**

DÉJÀ VU

Thoughts of Bob followed me all day long.

First thing I did this morning was go out and check my garden boxes for dry soil (they can all wait another day or two), deadhead, glean, and hand-pollinate. Everything is right on schedule and doing good 😉

Thoughts of Bob were with me in the garden area: Bob built the garden boxes for me; Bob built the rain barrel stands, for me; Bob helped me repot the apple trees - Bob's imprint on my life is everywhere.

I am really happy with the apples this year; they are a becoming a nice, full size. Just right for pies :-D

Green zucchini on the vines.

Celery shooting up; Butternut squash spreading.

Spaghetti squash setting squash, and climbing the trellis that used to have peas climbing up it.

I gleaned some more Mascara Lettuce and a few more Blueberries.

The corn is doing very well this year: 6 feet tall!

CORN SILK! Corn is setting :-D

Yellow zucchini on the vines.

Tomatoes setting and ripening.

Fennel bulbs are plumping up.

All 4 rain barrels are filled to the brim. That makes me happy :-D

The original plan after tending to the garden area, was to go for a morning hike on 48^th. BUT, when I got into the car and turned the ignition on, KUKN Country was talking about the garage sales again out Lexington & Headquarters Road way … so, I went that way :-D

Change of plans …

Thoughts of Bob were with me as I walked the Garage Sales.

We had bought our 2^nd local area home in Lexington; it was a good area to purchase in, and it served its purpose for several years after Bob retired. We worked side-by-side to completely overhaul it … we painted ALL the rooms to suit our tastes; we pulled up the old stained carpet and had new laminated wood floors laid; we replaced the woodstove; and Bob revealed carpentry skills I didn’t even know he had (he reframed ALL the doorways and hung new doors, replaced ALL the room moldings – base wood, doors & windows, painted the front porch/steps and the back deck, and designed and built me 6 roomy raised garden beds). We totally remodeled the kitchen. Bob had told me he helped his dad to build the house he lived in in Cathlamet when his Dad, Mom & younger siblings moved to Toutle his Senior year, but I had NO IDEA what an excellent carpenter he was! Bob never did anything half-assed: whatever he did, he excelled at. When we sold, to move here, we sold for triple what we had bought for – and bought the house I live in solo lobo now, with a third of the sale money … remodeling this house with the remaining sale monies. We always bought small, built up with my ability to spend Bob’s money wisely (we did all the labor, I only spent monies for what we could not do ourselves), and sold large: Bob liked that frugal ability of mine. He knew his income was safe with me because I always increased it.

The kids don’t know what they are talking about when they hatefully say I spent Bob’s money willy-nilly: Bob trusted me with his money, and we went over the budget together – ANY MONEY SPENT WAS A JOINT DEAL; and both of us knew how it was spent. I never gave Bob any reason to distrust me – at any time/with anything. Bob’s mother was always bitching about how the other 2 DIL’s were “bankrupting” her other sons, and I said to Bob, “Your mother will never say that about me because I will never give her a reason to say that about me.” I was shocked (1) that rose would dare to say that about her DIL’s (2) that her other sons would allow her to say that about their wives. I never touched Bob’s wallet except when he told me to get some money for him … and then, I always brought it to him, and said, “You get it out – I meant what I said: your mother will never accuse me of stealing your money. My fingers will never probe your wallet.”

Every payday, we sat at the kitchen table together and worked over the budget, paying each bill together. The last time I touched his wallet, was after his physical body died and I was collecting his personal effects after becoming a widow. I still have his wallet in my purse – it comforts me to see it next to mine. I am getting Bob’s Social Security allotment each month because that is what Bob told me to do: he had it set up that way days after we married – it is not a fortune, but Elohim is faithful to stretch it for my monthly needs with a few $$$ for frugal weekly daytrips Bob would want me to take, as we always had; I am still paying the same bills … and I miss Bob sitting next to me, going over the budget and helping me dole out the money he worked for, all his life. I miss Bob not being with me on daytrips; or garage sale trips.

Bob wasn’t really interested in garage sales when we first married, but he went with me because I liked to go to them. Eventually he started looking for tools that couldn’t be found anywhere but at garage sales (stores no longer sold them). And when I decided to have a sale at our homes, he was the guy with the cash box because he was better at making fast change than I am: he was a fast thinker and a human calculator. He even helped me set up the tables and price items – it became a mathematical game to him. Bob got a bang out of watching me sell our second-hand items at a good price; he would shake his head and grin when I’d get more than he thought it would sell for – he used to tease me and say I had ‘the Midas touch’. And he liked the interaction with customers: Bob was a social butterfly, he liked chatting with people, and people were comfortable with him – he was a people person.

His mother – and his children – can kiss my ass. None of them have ‘a right’ to say one way or the other how Bob and I spent our life/OUR money together. They have no right to assume how I am spending it now.

Nada – zip.

Yeah, I am still irked with them all.

I loved Bob from the moment I saw him; and Bob loved me from the moment we met, until the moment he stepped off this planet – Bob trusted me with every material thing he had; and placed it all in my hands the day after we married. I was scared to be responsible for his paycheck and shoved the checkbook back at him, saying I didn’t want the responsibility; but Bob laughed and said he trusted me. I was 17, and he trusted me with our whole life. I loved Bob; I learned how to run our home within the restrictions of the monthly budget – the frugal restrictions (((I))) set to fit his paycheck and to give us a good life that wasn’t slave to debt. I was a good wife to Bob – anything Bob trusted me with, I increased … love, a life, money, children, food, home. Bob loved me, and he appreciated that I was trustworthy/frugal/and productive; he gave me a good life because he could trust me with that good life: I returned that love, and honored him by helping him to increase the good life we enjoyed together.

We had a good life for 44 years: Lexington was part of that.

Going back there today was not easy, but I knew I had to get over that hurdle; so, I went to the garage sales on the streets we used to walk – the only space available for parking was directly across from our old house there: I deliberately avoided that sale; I couldn’t have done it without remembering the love that was sheltered there; and breaking down. I only walked 1½ miles this afternoon because my heart couldn’t take any more ‘familiar territory’. I got some good deals, Elohim blessed me by answering my prayers on several ‘finds’ … but I had to leave without finishing the whole loop. Maybe next year, my heart will be stronger.

Lexington was hopping today.

Every street was packed with cars and wandering pedestrians.

New additions to the neighborhood was this house, and an apartment complex going up on another back street. We've only been gone from Lexington since June 2017.

LOVE THIS STREET! Pro-America - that's a good thing :-D

A cone shaped hydrangea.

A weird shaped apple tree.

1-6.5 miles - would easily have been 3+ miles if I'd done all the streets.

I couldn’t remember how Bob drove us to Headquarters Road, so I called Bob’s sister, Merry, and asked; it was simple to get to, but we hadn’t been there in quite awhile and my memory was a bit rusty 😉 I had to do a little freeway driving – which was not the way we went (Bob always drove the backroads because I like country roads), but I wasn’t on the freeway for more than 5 minutes before I turned onto the overpass access - so I didn't have time to get frazzled on the freeway; thank Elohim! Freeway driving really stresses me; there's just too much going on at the same time.

Every garage sale marker was off the main roadway … and they were ALL gravel mountain roads: e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e.o.f.t.h.e.m. At this sale, I bought an armload of books – the bulk of them telling the story of the Boyeln sisters (Mary & Anne) that led to the birth of Queen Elizabeth I:

I am a sucker for anything Anne Boyeln & Queen Elizabeth I. I am a strong woman; so, I like reading about other strong women 😉

Back on the main roadway again, I was surprised that it didn’t go all the way through: it used to. I don’t know when it was closed to through traffic, but suddenly there was a gate across the road – maybe that’s why Bob hadn’t taken me there in quite a while …

Headquarters Road is a gated dead-end.

It was time to call it a day and head the car towards home.

I was glad I went. And on my way back home memory kicked in and I recognized landmarks on the backroads all the way back to the Lexington Bridge. I know now know how Bob drove us there. I’ll never have to touch the freeway at all 😉

And another memory kicked in too: that memory was so vivid and so emotional, it made me pull off the road to have a cry. At one point just before the Ostrander Store, déjà vu hit, and I could feel Bob with me – my mind’s eye could see a younger version of him driving that stretch of road: the clothes he wore, the way he sat, the cigarette between his lips as he shifted gears in the old ’56 Ford, the way his hands were on the steering wheel, the way he turned his head to grin at me and pat the bench seat beside him in a “scoot over here, honey” way he always did.

I almost couldn’t breathe.

Tears stung my eyes because I knew he wasn’t really there – the road was still there … but Bob was not.

It was just déjà vu tripping my emotions.

Thoughts of Bob were running down my face in hot, scalding tears.

So, I passed the Ostrander Store and pulled over in a wide turnout as soon as I could until the tears stopped:

Lexington Bridge Drive from Headquarters Road - 12 mins.

The déjà vu moment was like time had rolled back: it felt like I was reliving that past era, in that particular part of the backroad. All in a 12 minute span of time.

N Pacific Ave as it crosses Lexington Drive Bridge.

Heron Pointe from Lexington Bridge Drive - 17 mins

I was happy to get home.

And I was pretty pleased with my haul when I got it all inside – the shovel and screen in the shed, and the rest in the house :-D Most of what I came home with, I prayed to be able to find …

Bread pans, books, a bird house, wicker paper plate holders – the rest was just bonus finds 😉 I really scored with the picnic basket. Most things were 25 to 50 cents; nothing over $3 (birdhouse & picninc basket). I am vey frugal - I make my pennies scream for mercy.

Winter theme rustic birdhouse. I clipped the hanging wire off; it's decorative, not weather resilient.

I bought this book because of the title – I almost laughed out loud when I saw it, because I can identify with the title.

Bob turned me onto the Clive Cussler novels. I prayed I'd find some ... direct answer to a specific request.

This coffee mug called out to me; so, I bought it.

The mug’s message fits my life right now ... the 2 little covered casserole dishes are the perfect size for meal for 1.

These nice sets of silverware came with the picnic basket – inside the pocketed placemats; I didn't know they were part of the deal until I removed te basket liner and placemets for washing. Have I already mentioned that I really scored on the picnic basket?

As soon as I saw this little shovel, I snapped it up: It's a perfect too to use it in the garden boxes Bob designed and built for me to garden in.

I snagged this free screen to use over my Spring garden transplants while they are setting root and getting established.

I was glad I had this cart today. Our granddaughter, Alyna, saw it one year in a knockoff store we were at, and talked me into buying it; about 18 years ago 😉 It gets used a lot when garage sales are in full play.

Today was an exciting day in the veggie garden.

Today was a blessed day at the garage sales.

Today was a day of memory jogging.

Today was an emotional day.

Today was also a day of growth and moving forward progress.

I am thankful for the whole day – from start to finish. I don’t mind thoughts of Bob bursting into my day. Bob was a huge part of my life – Bob will always be a part of my life. It is only right that he should share a portion of my thoughts while I live the life he made for me.

And maybe someday I will be able to think of my husband without breaking out in tears of missingness.