Saturday, October 17, 2015

Mama,

Fall is here.  Leaves are everywhere, and the temperatures are finally beginning to regulate.  This weekend promises to be absolutely lovely, so I plan on finding some things to do outside to enjoy the weather.  Tomorrow Madalyn has powder puff football practice... yes, you read that right.  So our normal riding plans have been thwarted (well, at least for me and her), so I will not be getting my normal dose of nature in the woods.  Funny how much I have come to enjoy it and look forward to it.  It's so interesting to watch the scenery change.  In the past few weeks I have noticed how the Kudzoo begins to fade away.  Little holes form in the broad leaves, and the vines retreat back into the woods.  I always thought freezing temperatures killed it off, but apparently it's more the fading hours of sunlight.  The leaves are coming down pretty quickly, but we haven't had the brilliant color change we normally experience.  I guess the past couple of months have been so dry that the leaves are falling before they reach their peak color.

The world really is a beautiful place.  In all seasons there is beauty.  Even if you have to squint or turn your head to see it, the beauty is there.  I didn't realize that until a few years ago.  I am not sure if it's from maturing or if it's from going through the whole experience of losing you.  It's probably more a combination of both.  But now, I stop to see things, to really see, and I find that it calms me deep inside my soul.

You came up in my Timehop again this morning.  Four years ago you gave me my copy of Jesus Calling.  I will never forget the day.  It was such a nice little surprise.  You were always good at that.  You listened to things I said in passing and remembered.  And then you would surprise me with it.  No one else has ever done that for me, so I miss it.  I miss having a person who just paid attention to the little things and thought about little ways to make me happy.  That sounds so selfish, doesn't it?  It's kind of embarrassing to admit, but it's so true.  Life is a different experience without that.  It's not even something I was conscious of until it was gone.  And I get it because I am a mother and try to do the same for my kids.  It's just part of it.  We listen to the little things and are constantly thinking about ways to make our kids smile and feel special.  And, on the inside, I think we all feel like little kids who just want to be appreciated and loved.  So I miss my mama making me feel special.  I miss it deeply.

It's that time of year... I visited our new makeup store here in Alabaster yesterday, and when I checked out, the lady asked, "Would you like to donate a dollar to breast cancer research?"  Of course I said yes.  I wanted to tell her I would donate all that I had if it meant no one would ever have to know the pain of losing their mother, grandmother, sister, friend from breast cancer.  Instead, I took my little bag and cried in my car.  Not an ugly cry, but just little tears that could easily be wiped away.  Three years ago, it probably would have been a very ugly cry.  But now it usually doesn't go that far.  It takes major things to put me into the sobbing, snotting kind of reaction.  But I did decide to just go home from there.  I had planned to go to Belk to look for Madalyn a jacket, but every time I go to Belk I miss you so terribly that I thought it best to just call it a day.

The kids got their report cards yesterday.  David got two Cs, an A, and two Bs.  Madalyn got all As and one B.  Of course I am completely satisfied with both of them.  Madalyn is completely independent, which is such a breath of fresh air after having to breathe fire down David's back for him to complete homework and assignments for so many years.  She is in charge of her work and studying and needs very little help.  I have really let David be this year, not checking his grades on a daily basis and not harping on him.  He has done well.  I guess some parents would be disappointed with his grades, but I am satisfied.  He is taking care of what he needs to do on his very own, and this means more to me than the actual grades.  He's maturing and taking pride in his work, which is something I was doubtful he would ever do.  They are both really good kids.  They make me proud.  Yes, they make mistakes, but they both have such warm hearts and good intentions.  I adore them both, in totally different but equal ways.

Not much else going on.  Things are quiet.  We are sort of in a season of change.  Friendships have shifted.  Life is just different, much more so than I could have imagined.  But that's okay.  It's just life I guess.  And I am certainly used to adapting to change.  Makes me wonder what things will look like three years from now.  I guess there's no way to tell.  No way to know what relationships sustain and what new ones will emerge.  It will just have to be a surprise.

Love you always...