A Day Of Remembrance…

A Day Of Remembrance…

I was unsure how I would write this blog, or even if I ever would at some point. My mother died. It’s still hard to say that after so many years. She left behind an extremely loving husband (my father), myself and 9 of my siblings, (along with 31 grandchildren). Yes, 10 children. That’s a whole other story I’ll tell you about on a different day. But she was the strongest and most inspirational person I’ve known.

Yesterday was her birthday. She loved having her birthday in the fall, because, like me, we shared a love for autumn, Halloween, and everything about the coming of the holidays. A time to cherish your loved ones and be grateful for everything and everyone in your life. She taught me that, and I continue to carry on that belief and instill it in my children.

Typically, on her birthday I like to be by myself. I usually need to be because it’s still so hard for me to realize that she’s not coming back. I don’t know if any of you have ever thought that way? If you’ve lost a loved one, and even though you know in reality they won’t be returning, there are just some days when it’s almost like you expect them to return and you wonder what is delaying them. Like you expect to see them that day. I suppose it depends on what you believe. I know some people think days like that can be a sign your loved one is with you in spirit and making a connection with you. I like to believe that is true.

So yesterday, October 25th, was her birthday. I went on a long hike.

Just me and my cherished dog, Freesia.
The morning started off a bit cold with an extremely dense fog creeping through the town and up into the mountains where we went.
As we started our trek the fog was beginning to burn off just a little as it’s competition the sun crowded its way in.
I was able to get a few shots of the change in scenery as we climbed up to the top of the trail.

 

A nice little trail
I could definitely feel my mother with us as we made our way through the forest. ♥

 

It seemed as though the birds were following us at times.

 

Freesia’s getting a bit tired

 

Once at the top, the view was amazing! The fog still hovered over the little town and the surrounding fields, but at the top it was blue skies and warm sun that greeted us!

 

Such a wonderful hike to clear my mind of all the daily life chaos and just reflect on her.

Happy Birthday Mama

 

Our Lives In A Cage…

Our Lives In A Cage…

Does everyone live in a cage? A Jar? A fishbowl? To some, the city or neighborhoods and the hustle bustle that may come along with those environments are wonderful. Some people thrive on the energy, be it positive or negative. It can be alluring, the high energy and everything that comes along with it. The sounds. The smells. The people. Some crave the excitement, the noise, and the static. But to me, it’s just that. Static.

I am grateful for the times I have lived in cities and various neighborhoods. That urban life helped mold me to who I am now, and reminded me of my true roots in nature I had as a child.

 

We are all happy with the little farm we live on now, but with neighbors on both sides of me in such close proximity, sometimes I feel like I’m suffocating.

In the early morning when I go out to breathe before anyone else is awake, and for that split-second moment as the cool fog rolls across the fields, I have a sense of peace. I can pretend that I don’t see the neighbor’s home, or hear the soft hum from the vehicles on the highway a distance away. But, I still long for the quiet solitude and calm serenity of the forest. Of nature. Of what is home to me.

When my small farm and the beautiful fields that encompass a portion of it just aren’t enough for me and the vacant noise of lawn mowers trimming the pristine turfs and the ever-continuous echo from the road of people walking their dogs or biking by becomes physically piecing to my soul, I must escape.

The forest is calling.

For some it’s the mountains, others the ocean, or perhaps a beautiful park or hiking trail. To open the door to your cage or the lid to your jar, and physically take yourself to those locations can be so healing. The need to breath clean air and see all that nature has to offer is so important for our own quality of life. To touch our soul. Re-charge our batteries. Grasp what is truly in our heart.

For those of us who cannot for whatever reason reside in such locations, we live for the times that we can go. To go to the isolation. The calm. The alone, but not lonely. For nature does not judge. You can go be you and live in the moment in the sound of silence.

What calls to you, dear readers?

 

“Maybe it doesn’t matter which road we embark on. Maybe what matters is that we embark”… Barbara Hall