Overwhelmed with Love & Joyful Things

The moon beckons to me where I lay sleeping. Thousands of miles between us, yet I feel its pull, drawing me out of bed this early morning hour. Where darkness should reign, moonlight rules. Unable to resist, I push up the window's covering, and kneel upon the couch to soak in the scene. Trees still bare with wintery hibernation, grass only recently greened, unfarrowed fields as far as my eyes can see; all are at the mercy of the full moon's colorization, bright yet somehow black and white. 

My eyes fill with tears, and I do not brush them away as they stream down my cheeks, leaving evidence upon my cotton pajama top. The last weeks have me overwhelmed with love and joyful things, tears often appearing from seemingly nowhere, my voice quaking as my jaw quivers with emotion. I fear bringing words to the feelings, superstitiously awaiting the jinxing of my open and honest admission of happiness.

I became Grandma. Held my daughter's daughter in my arms. Sending me back thirty plus years, to the first time I held my first baby in my arms, my two pound ten ounce miracle. My granddaughter's dark eyes gazed up at me, her body a comforting weight upon my body and soul, and I felt my heart might burst. I watched my daughter as she mothered, and my heart expanded in awe. I watched her and knew that she now understands the depths of a mother's love for her daughter.

My body is exhausted. Working the past weeks to build new fencing has taken a toll. I am not as young as I was for the last project, but I am driven by need. Losing my sweet donkey, Nick, much earlier than feared, has ramped up the timeline to bring Cappy home. Little Red needs a companion, a friend to add security when Cinder and I ride. When I began training him in July, I honestly wasn't sure Cappy would ever become mine. I promised him then that I would not quit on him. I said the words out loud each time I was there. But he has been through so much. Each tiny bit of trust he shows me has been a gift. I do not take his offerings for granted. 

As the moonlit scene outside my front window yields to sunrise, the tears begin again as I reflect on the many beautiful things in my life. Somehow, I have become a trusted partner to two once wild Mustangs, who will be reunited soon because I was patient, persistent, and too stubborn to quit. Soon, I will be able to sit upon my bedroom deck and enjoy my little herd of three, my incredibly supportive partner beside me, our dogs resting beside us, and simply be happy. I imagine my miracle daughter's miracle daughter upon my knee, pointing and giggling at the animals, listening as I tell her stories of her Mommy's antics when she was just a girl, sitting upon my lap, watching her own horses and pups.

The day has now begun in full, pink and lavender embellish the eastern horizon. My heart is full. My cheeks are wet. Acknowledging this peace and contentment cannot jeopardize it. I can finally trust it, fall openly into the feelings. I hadn't even realized I'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop until now. It has been so long since I've been able to embrace the positive, to accept that life can be filled with more light than sadness. 

My soul is overwhelmed with love and joyful things. Amen.




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's Just a Blue Hat

Image
...BUT IT IS SO MUCH MORE! It's Robbie's blue hat, one of the few things I have of his. I wear it, and feel him with me when I need it most. I feel him watching over me, especially when I need it most. This morning, I readied to go out for chores, grabbed my quilted flannel shirt off the hook, and reached for the blue hat. I always hang it on the hook above the flannel. I grabbed for it without having to look, but no hat. Slight moment of panic, but this has happened before. It is exactly why I now ALWAYS hang it on the hook. Deep breath. Calm yourself, Kristine. My hand reaches into the deep front pocket of the flannel (second storage spot). Nothing. The other pocket is searched. Nada. Panic. "I can't find my blue hat!" Chad turns from where he is standing in the kitchen. He knows it is more than a knit cap that keeps my head warm in winter.  Frantic, I rush into our coatroom, searching the cubbies, the hanging jackets and coats, their pockets, even though I know
Read more

ONLY ONE MORE DAY

Image
     It's only one more day. One more day without him. One more day without his smile, his laughter, his dirty socks in the couch cushions, empty Dorito bags in the bathroom (yes, the bathroom).      Eight years ago my world was changed for all eternity. My sweet son, Robbie, gone.      I remember the moment I knew something was wrong. It was in the air as I walked up the steps. It was goosebumps on my skin as I stood in the doorway. There are so many things I remember but don't want to, and so many things I don't that I wish I could have back.      So now I have a new normal. Dreams sometimes bless me with his presence, younger or 16 year old versions, but never older. Last night I cried while watching a show, flashing ahead to future views of the characters' lives, children, laughter, playing, together. I will never know what he could have become. I will never hold his babies in my arms, snuggle them, kiss away their boo-boos.          In the week leading up t
Read more

Letting that Sh*t GO!

Image
Recently, a number of friends reached out to share a post written by a former friend and business acquaintance. Each person who brought it to my attention did so with the best of intentions. They were angry for me, wanting to protect me, and hoping to keep me aware in case of future, well, attacks is the best way to phrase it. Their love and caring was much appreciated. I should have simply left it there, but I made the mistake of reading the post anyway. As I read, my muscle memory brought me back into the feelings of sadness, betrayal, and disappointment that ultimately led me to disassociate from the author of the post. It would have been incredibly easy to fall back into a pit of negativity, to feed the desire to defend myself, or follow the urge to point out the falsehoods being revived. For a few minutes, I'll admit, these were all pulling my fingers toward the keys; but, as my heart raced and my blood pressure rose, I paused. Responding was not going to resolve the break or
Read more