Tag: gratitude

#66 – Pies, C-PTSD, and Learning How To Move Forward

It’s been a complicated week. I had plans to start blogging every day, to clean my house in one day not over several to prepare for hosting Thanksgiving. I also thought my pie crust would roll out with ease. Nothing went to plan.

It started with the couch breaking. One evening we noticed the leg fell off the mid-support but instead of buying a new one (Have you seen the price of couches lately? Yikes. Dubious quality to boot.) we opted to fix it. Improve it really. That was a bump in the road, the couch is stronger, and we have storage, but then we hit a pothole.

It’s like our rescue rabbit Mia unbonded to us. She became irritable and aggressive and would thrash around her room. She bites at us, growls at us, and won’t let us do normal things like sweep out her area. This whole situation is discouraging because how will we be able to properly care for her if she won’t let us? I never experienced this with my previous rabbit, Midnight, or with my family dog, Sully.

I was thrown into a murky mental pool. I have some deep memories from childhood of my dad that terrify me when loud outbursts happen. How could this happen? This rabbit I was so excited to adopt and give a loving home, was suddenly a source of triggering panic.

Cleaning ground to a halt. Kyle’s woodworking is uncertain. Walking through the office and living room tense, uncertain, scary, as the furball held us in her grip of territorial fury. She began to destroy the floor filling me with despair.

Every little part of preparing for the holiday felt treacherous as the C-PTSD clouded me from the reality of the tasks in front of me to the mountains of my mind. The craggy, inhospitable rock that has been too high to climb. I didn’t expect this random experience to cause such pain and confusion in my mind.

But the clock kept moving forward and things still needed to be done. This holiday we looked toward with joy could not become a thing we wanted to run from. It was our first holiday here.

Living as a human can be so tough. We are all broken and have hidden scars that can be reopened in the blink of an eye. What has been the most challenging part of this week has been where I find my pauses to take a breath. Finding opportunities in the chaos to recenter instead of giving up.

Making those pies was one of those moments of joy in the center of the storm. Cutting the Crisco into the flour is rhythmic. Feeling the sand become dough, stimming. Rolling out the crust and having it fall apart, is tragic! Finding the inspiration to make the difficult crust mold into the pie tin anyway, is a victory!

Seeing the smiles the pumpkin and apple pie brought to my family filled me with warmth. Yesterday, was a wonderful day. Yes because the food was delicious, but more so for the reminder that what makes the day special is being next to my loved ones and reflecting on the year and what blessings we received despite the chaos of life.

I hope you know that you are loved, dear reader and that you remember not to give up!

Thank You for 100 Subscribers!

While I was on vacation up to Erie I received exciting news! I saw this blog has reached 100 subscribers! It made my day. I am so grateful to everyone who has subscribed. You guys are amazing! I appreciate every view, every visitor, every like. It’s given me purpose in a season of transition, helped me get back into writing, and drawing, and feel more comfortable sharing Potato Technology designs online. It has also been a rewarding way to connect with people worldwide which I find exciting.

I’m hoping in time to connect more, and maybe keep comments on my posts to get to know you more. I’m just shy and scared of getting hate comments when I want this to be a safe space. Maybe in 2025? I’ll keep trying to be brave.

I’m looking forward to sharing bits about my trip and some more sewing and knitting projects I’ve completed in September. September was a busy month! I think heading into October, I’ve needed a break. It was good to get away and refresh. I’ve been feeling a bit of writer’s block the past week so I took a small break from the blog too, hoping to have renewed my creativity!

Thank you, dear reader, for such an amazing milestone! I hope you have a wonderful day and that I see you around the blog again. There are many exciting things I have planned that I would love to share with you. I hope you know that you are loved and worthy just as you are.

Gotta Work? Got To Surrender First.

Since we settled in here, I’ve had a rough time. I’m not sleeping well consistently. It’s been a challenge to let down after a season of being on guard, on point, agile, and ready to work. I’ve felt behind on my own timelines after my workroom was boxed up and put into storage for a few weeks.

It was just a few weeks, but it felt longer, and I know why. I’ve been convicted of this as I’ve been reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan. My timeline and my plan were interrupted and that frustrated me. I am struggling with both control and pride. Woah, goosebumps. My grandma would be so pleased that I am talking about this.

Pride and Control

In the scary moments, God took over and directed my life and my steps from April 27 to June 7. In the meantime, I had to fully surrender my time and my trust to Him. I did and everything did turn out fine, better than expected. It was a big moment of growth for me, as a member of a little club called ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’ instead of trusting in faith. This was a big step.

But as human nature and sin go, as soon as things got easier I began to slack off. I have been a huge slacker in my quiet time with the Lord, in both prayer and consistently reading His word and dwelling on its meaning. We are called as believers to meditate on His word, instead I’ve been filling my head with other things. My focus shifted from God’s plan back to my desires.

I’ve felt this intense pressure to not let myself rest. To work, work harder, and don’t stop. I’ve been obsessing about how to make money with skills to provide again. How to feel validation and success in this big life step that has made me feel out of control. I’ve been craving the ability to make money, build our savings back up, quickly pay back the mortgage, and “feel safe” after such a big financial step.

How am I “unsafe” or in danger now though? This sentiment has been marinating in my brain for too long. I know why. I have not been properly nourishing my soul, nor have I been renewing my mind.

Wake Up Call

God provided everything and more when I was in danger of my life falling apart. This happened because I humbled myself and did it His way. I let Him lead. I’ve been convicted by the truth that Francis Chan points to in his chapter, Profile of the Obsessed. I woke me up to what I’m working towards and what I’m obsessed with and neither of those aligns with where my life was oriented towards through giving up control and letting God lead. I can’t just wrangle the control back because I’m scared. I have no idea where I’m headed, but God does so it is a lot safer to let Him lead.

I’ve been convicted by Chan’s words of truth that my actions since the house purchase and move-in have not been in my best interest, because I’ve given into my need for control. Sadly this demonstrates my lack of trust and faith, like a” micromanaging boss. I’ve told myself that I “know” better. This is too much to take on with the resources God has provided. The math is not mathing. I need to “fix” this on my own.

Oof, I sound like a rude, self-centered jerk.

The worst part? I am treating my Creator like this. I am ashamed.

Acceptance and Second Chances

Every time I think I’ve matured past my pride and need to control my life, this behavior rears its ugly head. But thankfully this past week, I’ve had to slow down and log off. My allergies went from 0-60 as ragweed pollen bloomed, my lack of sleep caught up to me and I began to feel worn out. Our internet has gone out twice and in those times I got my head out of Instagram, out of my to-do list, and away from blog posts and knitting deadlines, to read Crazy Love. Crazy Love is a book I started reading in the Spring, that I completely abandoned this summer because I was busy with other things. But without videos or music or scrolling to distract me, I found the quiet moment to get back to what was important. My relationship with my Saviour and getting nourished through God’s truth, this time by the encouragement and theology of Crazy Love.

In every page I’ve read in the past week, I’ve felt humbled and challenged to consider where my focus lies and where it should be. It has shifted to myself and my own wants, instead of God and his Kingdom. Safety and success I’ve put above what brings Him glory for my own. How can I ever expect to succeed without Him? Especially when everything good in my life comes from Him and at the end of the day is His.

The worst part is that my generous hand, who was fulfilled and rejoiced in giving, has been too scared about money to give with the same abandon and joy that I used to do. Because I’ve been worrying about money, seeing it with a scarcity mindset instead of abundance and gratitude for what I have. I am not talking about manifesting here, I’m talking about true gratitude and recognition for the provision of God. I’ve been doing this and not trusting in God to provide for my needs.

It happens so quick. I feel like Peter after the rooster crowed the third time. Or like the Israelites asking to go back to Egypt after God parted the Red Sea and delivered them from their captors because freedom was unfamiliar so they were afraid and would rather go back to the bondage they knew.

There’s a line in the song ‘Looking for a Place to Happen’ by the Tragically Hip that says, “Where they’d stamp on burning bags of sh*t.” Yeah, I feel like my efforts this summer, pushing instead of trusting, worrying instead of praying have been as useful as stomping on burning bags of poop.

Thankfully God is a God of agape love and second chances for those who humble themselves, repent, and follow Him. So that’s what I need to be doing this month. Resetting back to what sustains me, that is God, not my own effort. It’s humbling and freeing.

#57 – Home

Two months later, I’d say I’m finally settling back into a home again. As I get used to this new place, this unexpected blessing, these have been some of my favorite views. First off is the view out of my sewing room into the backyard. I like the trees, the green, the sky. It reminds me of where we used to live in Meadville before things went sideways. Moving to our current town, I liked the safety, like Stars Hollow, but the townies and their tightly wound suburban ways were not my vibe. Seeing all this green instead of houses, cars, etc, it’s just more chill, and because of that it is slowly becoming one of my favorite sites.

Secondly, is the sight of this pegboard organizer hung up and filled with sewing notions and little hints of K-pop. I’ve been waiting since Christmas 2021 to hang this up, and our house has the right kind of walls to support it. Packing up my K-pop posters and sewing tools was the saddest part of moving. I felt like I was packing up part of myself, not to be dramatic, but you know when you find something you are so passionate about and it becomes an extension of yourself? Making clothes has become that part of me. Seeing all my tools back, ready to create, it feels like home.

The third has been painting. Painting has been something we’ve wanted the chance to do again for years now, but not as a job, painting for ourselves. When Kyle and I met painting at our local colleges was our summer job and since graduating, it’s been less and less of a thing in our lives. But the act of cutting in and rolling walls is so nostalgic! I’ve wanted to go bold if I got the chance to make a house my own and this green did not disappoint me. Excited to see how the rest of the room pulls together once we’re done painting, and actually how the whole house does eventually once we paint it all. That will be a process.

Before
After

Fourth is this view from my kitchen and front porch. I love sunsets and the previous rental had obscured views from the crowded block. I’m happy to be a bit less incorporated so that the beautiful sun as it dips lower and lower in the sky can show us its vivid splendor in the sky. With these few little moments, this house is starting to feel like home and I am incredibly grateful.

#42 – Being Content

Is your life today what you pictured a year ago?

A lot can change in a year, but this past year thankfully had not been one of those big, earth-shaking years. Things have been consistent and I am grateful because that is not a guarantee from life.

When I was younger I used to think a year was boring if nothing huge happened. But my past self was overlooking the little moments of life that once it changes you yearn for in memory. Overlooking the small choices that make a good, consistent year happen.

It’s important to value each day and look for the good, the pleasant, the fulfilling in each day no matter how minor it may feel in comparison to others.

Looking back on who I was a year ago to now, I’m pleased with the emotional and relational intelligence I gleaned. It wasn’t something I set out as a goal, life happened that way but looking back I’m thankful that in the moments that would end up being meaningful, I showed up.

I could have phoned in those little moments and not built stronger foundations in relationships new and old. I’m glad I didn’t because in the past I have not been as present in my friendships and relationships with family. I would have regretted that.

Because of that, life is a little different than I pictured a year ago – it’s better and joyful instead of being listless and empty.

Life is also a lot sweeter because of you all who take the time to read my blog. It’s made my whole year!

Ironically a year ago I had no intention of starting this blog, I was going to start a podcast with a college acquaintance Errona Lee but that didn’t happen and it is probably for the best. Our schedules were never going to make it easy on us. I wasn’t ready to be on a YouTube-based podcast so that may have been a disaster for my confidence.

Blogging has helped me face some of my fears, like sharing my designs with others. It’s taught me discipline and reminded me that hard work is rewarding. I’ve been challenged to manage my time better and honestly shake off the cobwebs of my creativity and expression. It’s been an unexpected gift and I just wanted to say thank you for making this year a superb one. 💓

My Singer Sewing Machine Transformed the Way I Approach Sewing

This is a post of gratitude and retrospect, posted about a month too late but that’s alright. It still counts. I bought my sewing machine a year ago (plus a month) and it has transformed my workflow and productivity while reducing headaches and finger strain.

Sewing By Hand

How you may ask? Well, when I started sewing back in the fall of 2020, money was tight as it was for everyone that year, and machines were out of stock so I started sewing by hand through Bernadette Banner’s tutorials. I kept doing this for a year and a half until I was getting sick of the slow pace, eye strain, finger strain, and lack of structure when it came to making strong seams on thick fabric. My stitches were still elementary and my construction was lacking because the literal sewing process was occupying most of my time.

I’m stubborn and self-destructive in my creative process so I refused to give in and buy one until I was working on my A/W 2022 Collection. I was behind, not finishing things the way I wanted, and downright miserable. My husband who is my best friend insisted that I stop the madness and buy a machine and that’s how I ended up with my pal, Señor Senior Singer.

Why a Heavy Duty Machine?

At first, I was scared of using the machine. I have used three other machines and I didn’t understand how they worked. My mom lent me her 2010’s Brother Machine with a computer stitch function. It had a lot of error messages and broke down. My dad brought me a 1960s Sears and Roebuck machine he found in an attic, it has some serious internal mechanical issues. My Aunt Florence gave me her 2000s Brother machine that has been well maintained and through that experience I got a bit acquainted with the machine sewing process. It was still overwhelming though because I lacked the knowledge to know how to get out of a jam of thread or how to reload that pesky bobin. Don’t even ask me about thread tension or needle type, I was lost.

Through this experience I learned durability, strength of sewing, and lack of computerization was what I was looking for. I want to be able to sew through a tightly woven twill for a coat and yet have the durability to know I can sew for many years. I wanted a machine with reliability that I could count on to not have a computer meltdown during the middle of a delicate project.

Sewing Is Fun Again

A year in, I’m incredibly pleased with the Singer Heavy Duty Machine. It came with a download for a comprehensive user manual and the needles are easy to find and affordable. It has allowed me to finish projects with finesse and speed. In doing so I’ve been able to find balance in my life to write, to knit, to draw, to workout with more regularity, manage the house better and be generally less cranky and frustrated by how my time is being used.

I’m passionate about fashion and this year my desire for the craft has grown. I feel a hunger to level up my skills and create more complicated and beautiful things. The technical part of the sewing process was lifted off my shoulder by Señor Senior Singer and without the space again to get creative, I know I wouldn’t have made as many strides in design and execution as I was able to do. Because honestly, I would have quit in 2023 without the machine. I was so burnt out by the drudgery that is sewing by hand with our modern fabrics.

Thank you, Señor Senior Singer for being in my life a whole year! It’s been a fantastic ride and I can’t wait to see where we taking our sewing together next year!

Insomnia

Have you ever experienced one of those nights when no matter what you do you can’t drift off into the delightful slumber of a good night’s sleep?

I’ll go through bouts of bad sleep in the summer when the humidity sets in and the night is just a bit too stuffy. Those first weeks of summer when the warmth comes to rest overnight, and the fan radiating air from the window can’t seem to beat back the soupy air. Recently though, it was a bigger boss battle. The wandering of my mind to landscapes of worry.

Night Awakens My Creativity

I’ve always been a night owl. In the past, if I’ve been in the middle of a project at a job or heavy weighted exam in school it hovers in my mind when I am trying to sleep. It’s like I can’t allow myself to stop, rest, and recharge. I want to keep going. Keep creating until it’s perfectly done.

Sometimes my best ideas for garment construction or writing a scene in a fiction story come in those wee hours, trying to drift my mind off to sleep. And I’m not abnormal, this is pretty common, even glamorized as the artist’s life.

I don’t love the timing of these creative streaks, but I have over time learned the discipline of telling myself, that’s enough – it’s time to turn my mind off. That’s what it feels like, turning my mind off, like flipping an invisible switch to motivate my inner creative machine to close shop for the night.

But worry. Worrying, fear, anxiety, etc are the emotions I still have yet to best when they interrupt my sleep. With my mom having surgery this week, I’ve been best friends with insomnia. My mind has been restless, even combative towards peace and relaxation. I’ve been a tightened spring coil, resisting the welcoming aura of my bed in a false sense of control that if I worry about her surgery that I can somehow keep bad things from happening. Like I have any control over this thing!

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

James 1:2-4 ESV

I remember in therapy for anxiety and panic attacks in college, the thing that was the most helpful but the most painful was my therapist telling me that I was not in control. Ouch. It made me feel so dumb and small, yet the conviction and freedom I felt were like a cool breeze on a hot sunny day. It’s the illusion of control that makes my mind tie up into knots. But the stark reminder, the tough love of being told, you can’t control these things that overwhelm you, well it takes the burden off of my shoulders.

His Way, Not Mine

I’ve been thinking about that a lot on these nights of tossing and turning in what-ifs.

These dominos of confusion that I mentioned in Spiraling in Silence are not there for naught. With the personal maturity and spiritual wisdom I have sought out in 2023, there has been a path of growth and progress. But with growing comes growing pains, and spiritual maturity comes testing. And although these back-to-back weeks have been annoying, they have been a reminder to keep growing.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28 ESV

With June marking the halfway point of the year, it can feel like a good place to stop, to rest. I mean, especially in the United States the beginning of June is the kickoff of vacation season. You’re supposed to “leave it all behind” and have some big, never-ending pool party/beach vacation/barbeque, that is at least what the commercials are selling. But with my faith, there is no vacation season, no coasting if I am seeking growth. Because God uses all things, the annoying bouts of insomnia or the big things – medical procedures that scare us – for good.

When we are worried or scared, because life is ripe with troubles ready to knock us down, it is encouraging to remember that these are opportunities to rely on God and all that He does for us. It is the time to rest in His plan and provision, for example, the provision to bring people into our lives at the exact moment we need them, that shower us with the love and support we crave when life makes us lonely.

Gratitude and Kit-Kats

One of the best ways I have found to get my head out of worry when I can’t sleep is to distract myself by counting my blessings. Even when life is going bad, I’m amazed at how many good things are going right in my life, that I simply forget about until I stop to think about it. Simply being alive, with a roof over my head and a meal to eat are huge things to not take for granted.

I have yet to beat the boss battle of my worry, and it still bests me most of the time, but I am learning how to change my perspective in those moments, and that sure feels like a step in the right direction. Getting rest and recharging in some way during those bouts of worry and lost sleep is more precious than I realize too. Everything seems 10x more complicated when you are fighting through insomnia

I caught myself last night being an absolute jerk, just because I was tired and cranky, and honestly scared to not be able to sleep again. But you know what helped pull me out – a piece of chocolate. That small little delight of chocolate, and watching something that made me laugh. It’s those little things which bring joy in the midst of meh, that remind me that I have so much to be grateful for and so much more purpose than wallowing in a bad mood of worry and bad sleep.

Thank you, dear reader, for spending time with me. I wish you restful, restorative sleep tonight. I sure hope I can do the same!

#19 – Canning, No Reservations, Gratitude

We had a busy weekend, many canning projects to preserve, and some errands to run. The usual weekend things. I’ve noticed the more hobbies my husband and I take on, the happier we are because there is just something enticing to us about going to bed worn out from the hard work with a smile of accomplishment on our faces. I’ve started to keep a journal of our weekends, how we did the projects, and little details that happened – like little silly things that make me smile or how we put the recipes together. Having that little record of these weekends that otherwise could be a blur of repetition and hard work makes all these moments spent with Kyle, sweeter.

Friday Sunshine

I want to remember those tiny drops of sunshine moments that make life a remarkable story. To slow down and think through those bits of joy sprinkled within the mundane and chaotic. On Friday after work, we stopped by our local Aldi to pick up potatoes and vegetables to preserve and the mushrooms we wanted were in stock and $0.99 a carton. The sun was warm, bright, and revealing the splendor of summer to come. We drove with the windows down listening to Babel by Mumford and Sons – a college throwback.

Moderngurlz posted a banger of a video about Chanel and I spent my late afternoon soaking in the sounds of nature while I wrapped up a panel of a sweater tank. In the golden hour, my next-door neighbor, a good friend texted me and I stopped by for a visit – I love those moments of fellowship and Kpop discussion. Her daughter had a fundraiser for her school and I had the opportunity to participate in what makes communities great – helping each other. That evening we watched round one of the Pro Bull Riding Tour in Everett, Washington. My favorite animal athlete Domino had a good out, and the Cowboys got a few qualified rides but mostly injuries.

Saturday Fluff

I started the day with the newest Bernadette Banner upload on corsetry and a bowl of fresh kiwi, scone, and dairy-free whipped cream. On Saturday, the weather became a whole new season. It was the misty, cool gray of an Irish day. With rain jacket in tow, we went to Walmart which is not my favorite place on a Saturday – because it seems to be everyone’s favorite place on a Saturday – it was the most happening place in town. Despite the crowd, we met the nicest employee who helped us match some paint. Well we tried to match some paint and it didn’t go as planned but those moments of searching for the right color formula for the paint shade “Reindeer Fur” while discussing the quirks of horse hair plaster were a joy. Like watching an episode of Gilmore Girls, the small-town charm peaked.

My favorite place to run an errand is the Agway store. What is Agway? A local feed supply, pet, and garden store that dots the South Western Pennsylvania landscape. It has the garden things that you actually need and knowledgable people, it has the smells from hay, to fish food, to blood meal fertilizer – the funkiest garden smell. It also has bunnies and ferrets! I used to have a pet bunny, and my friend had a pet ferret, I love small furry creatures so this place gives me all the feels. I want to adopt another bunny, yet our current rental does not allow pets so for now I soak up the small moments of bunny cuteness at the Agway. This time did not disappoint! I got to hear the bun nibble on a small snack, flop on her bed and make some teeth purr chatter as she drifted off to a nice nap. I also got to pet a ferret! The employees regularly tend to any animals they have and so while the employee was playing with one of the ferrets she called me over to give the ferret some attention. It did try to bite me but it was still cute.

Later on, the day was a symphony of potato peels, random snacks, canning jars, and episodes of No Reservations. The Ozarks and Heartland episodes. Recently, Domino’s opened a store in my town, one of the only delivery places I can eat at since I have a dairy/beef intolerance. My food of choice is Mango Habanero Wings. Not having to cook was a delight but then our delivery driver showed up in a sweet street-style look with bright orange sneakers and a black and white camo coat. The fashion scene around here is pretty dull, so seeing anyone mix it up gives me a small delight. In the late hours of canning, we caught a live show on Sirius XM The Message from Blessing Offor. His music is uplifting and soulful. Highly recommend checking him out. With a cup of Chamomille tea in hand, the night ended with a Simple Living Alaska video. A great way to end a long day of hard work.

Sunday Steam

A dish I make a lot is Miso Soup, a dish you need a good broth to layer as the base. A pantry staple Kyle and I have wanted to learn is the art of crafting a layered, umami-bomb-style, broth. I’m happy to say, it turned out well! Adding another table to our canning setup made the difference, there was so much counter space this time. We spent the day chopping, stirring, and managing the steam emanating from the kitchen.

I leveled up in my piano lesson book to Unit Five. The short round of the PBR was theatrical to the end. I sewed my sweater tank together and began the final panel. We watched a mix of No Reservations and Hometown. I dreamed of wallpapering a future historical house like Erin and maybe visiting Africa one day, while taking in Anthony Bourdain’s travels through Namibia and Ghana. At the end of the day, I reveled in a bowl of noodles with fresh broth and tried to not think of The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova as we enjoyed the Romania episode of No Reservations. T’was a good weekend.

#13 – Tootsie Roll Pop

I think running my sewing machine is one of my most contemplative times. Maybe it’s the melodic sound of the needle and bobbin working in step? As the seam flows like a fabric river through the machine, the world drifts slowly away.

I am transported to the place of thoughts, memories, dreams. I am observing, thinking, existing.

Yesterday I was sewing a dark, espresso brown fabric. Chocolatey you could call it. Under the machine the side seam went, I watched the pattern disappear from one end to the other, and I was overcome by this familiar sensation. A taste foreign to my lips, yet a familiar friend – tootsie roll pops.

A chocolate tootsie roll pop. Now, I haven’t had one of those since, high school? Probably high school. The grape and raspberry ones were my flavor of choice, which were a hot ticket item for my cousins too. I remember eating a lot of the chocolate and cherry ones because they were the ones left over after my cousins came for the day. But before they went home, my grandparents would let us pick out a tootsie roll pop.

It’s amazing how memory, is so attached to taste, smell. Yet sometimes it doesn’t even need the taste or the smell. Yesterday the birds were chirping, it was a clear sunny spring afternoon. My husband was listening to a Braves vs Red Sox Spring Training game. The sounds of the baseball. I loved played baseball with my cousins. It was about 2:30, the time we used to drop them off at home, with a tootsie roll pop.

All because that fabric looked so chocolatey? I don’t know, memory is such a fickle thing but I am sure glad it pops in on those random moments and reminds us of those small delights from childhood.

What is a small delight from your childhood that you wish you could taste right now?

#2 – Missing

I think the hardest part of the grieving process for me has been settling into life without the ones I love. I knew that it would feel strange continuing life without my grandparents because they were my real parents and that is a big space to fill once those nurturing figures are no longer here to support you. I think about them often. Like today, when the sun shines brightly through my window with a strength that warms my skin as I sit at my sewing table. The warmth of love is one of those tangible things that death strips of this world.

It’s not all bad, the warmth of the sunshine reminds me of those core memories. Moments I may not recall without the prompt of warmth and light, like sitting upstairs in the loft where the big windows of their living room washed the house in beaming brightness. On days like this grandma would hang the laundry outside on two long rows. From my swingset, I saw the sheets dance in the billowing breeze of a warm summer day. But if I hold on to the feeling of the sun on my skin, my mind walks deeper into the library of memories zig-zagging my brain, and selects a deeper track.

Summer morning. Sunshine. Walking around the park, me riding a bike flanked by my cousins while my grandparents discussed the history, the beauty of the sights, the sounds of the birds. Warm. Cozy. Sitting in the loft on a wintery sunny day after baking 10 tea-ring pastries (a big ring of cinnamon rolls that remain uncut to resemble a wreath) with my grandparents sitting beside me on the couch. We share a round of Hershey nuggets most likely for our hard work. Especially Papa who watched us bake from the counter, sitting on a high stool, there for the conversation and the atmosphere.

In the small moments of my day, three years later, I still think of them and I wonder if that will ever change. It no longer makes me tear up, which I like. I don’t enjoy crying. The missing is here to stay. It’s like the longing we feel for heaven and closeness with our Savior. The world is missing something, but the reminders of unconditional love evoked by the warmth of sunlight on my skin pulls me out of whatever task I am working on for a quiet moment of reflection. I reflect on the blessings I have experienced from the love I received here on earth and rejoice that it is not the end. I remember that I am not alone, because the Spirit lives in me and is filling me with love from my Creator.

“But let all who take refuge in you rejoice;
    let them sing joyful praises forever.
Spread your protection over them,
    that all who love your name may be filled with joy
For you bless the godly, O Lord;
    you surround them with your shield of love.”

Psalm 5:11-12, NLT

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