pelicansandprose

I was raised in a family that always went to Church. We marked time from Sunday to Sunday. We had Sunday clothes and Sunday shoes that we wore the whole day, not just to go to Church. Now, not being able to go to Church has been an adjustment.

My sister, Evelyn, is the “keeper of traditions” in our family. She’s the one who hosts for holidays, remembers birthdays, calls our elderly aunt and uncle, and goes the extra mile to serve. She always makes a “Sunday dinner” and while her kids were home, there was always a special dessert.

Evelyn sews beautifully and has made a new “Easter dress” nearly every year. This year, she sewed face masks instead.

This past Sunday, I smiled when Evelyn announced her “Sunday” clothes outfit–a shirt with buttons.

Little things to make life seem normal.

This is a day to be gentle.
This is a day to be quiet.
This is a day to process.

3/23/2020 at 2:00 p.m. Governor Northam announced we would not go back to school this year.

This is a day to try to understand.
This is a day to surrender for a time.
This is a day to balance sadness with gratitude.

May we be well.

I was trying to figure out my position in relation to the coronavirus. I wondered, “Am I on the inside looking out, or on the outside looking in?”

It doesn’t really matter, does it?

However, there have been different times in my life when I have felt on the outside looking in. It’s not a very pleasant feeling, but I won’t go there.

For now, while I’m on the inside looking out, I’m finally reading:

I’m on page 94. (I read Book 1 two summers ago.)

Who knows? I may be able to read them all before school starts again.

A few weeks ago, I was looking around on Amazon and saw a cool fort. “Four-year olds like forts,” I thought, but before purchasing I gave my daughter a quick call. With some hesitation she said, “Sure. He loves forts.” Pause. “But we have several fort-type things. Why don’t you pick out some books. He always loves the books you send.”

“I can do books!” I felt so relieved. I have quite a few grandchildren in many stages of growing up and I’m not much of a shopper. But books are my love. I was so happy that I didn’t have to keep searching for the “right gift.”

We had a book fair at school just before the school closed on March 13. I bought a stack of books I thought he would enjoy.

These are the books that were in the stack:

The Old Truck isn’t really for four-year olds, except that my grandson loves vehicles of any kind. So I bought it.

I’m hoping that someday he’ll know me better because of Bear Came Along. I adore the story, the illustrations, and all the implications about identity and community.

He loves funny books; hence, the Jack books and Monkey & Cake.

Where’s Waldo was pure nostalgia of hours with my own children on the couch searching for Waldo.

Google Duo has been a lifeline, especially this past week of being home and feeling a bit alone. Today, I got to share as my grandson opened his birthday present with his mom and got to hear my daughter read to her son. Happy doesn’t begin to describe all the feelings of that moment.

We often blame the weather for the various shapes, sizes, angles, and health of trees. As I walked through the woods at River Bend today, I wondered if there was something more than weather to explain why trees so near each other grow in such different ways.

Why are some so straight and tall while others seem to have struggled, twisting, almost writhing toward the sky? How do some trees thrive with their roots exposed? Some seem to require so little to survive from just a crack in the rock.

Today I saw trees, broken and decaying. Today I saw trees, choked by heavy vines. Today I saw trees with cancerous growths. Today I saw trees persisting, living, growing. All beautiful. In every stage of life. No matter the weather.

I can learn so much from trees.

Ping.

Text message incoming.

Swipe up.

There it is.

Maggie’s story.

It read:

I was skipping. I saw a mountain. Then I wanted to climb up it. Then I found a stone and sat on it.

Exactly what I’d like to do.

As I went on my walk today, I started to think about how quickly things can change and how quickly my feelings can change. Two days ago, I walked the same sidewalks and turned the same corners. Two days ago, I saw beauty and my spirits were lifted. Two days ago, I was able to get out of my head and could enjoy the sensory wonders around me. That didn’t happen today, even though I tried.

Instead, I started thinking about the word “wonder.” Here’s what the dictionary says:

My sense of wonder two days ago was very different from the wonderings of today. The world is full of wonders. But today, those wonders are clouded by my wondering.

Like everyone, I’m wondering, “How long?”

“How can I help?”

“Are the families of my students okay?”

“Is my daughter safe in Utah where there was an earthquake today?” (5.7!)

“What if. . .”

And “what if. . .”

When wonder becomes worry, it’s time to just stop.

Breathe.

Trust.

Love.