Archive for the ‘Oraeley’ Category

The Final Race

Thursday, August 23rd, 2018

On Death and Dying.

This is unedited

Is dying the gateway to death, or death first and then dying the afterthought..sort of the sadness that is the residual dregs for those left behind to swallow by accident or leave at the bottom of the glass that is now quite half empty. I suppose that the answer is just as allusive as trying to answer what love is, since each case is a beautiful dance of it’s own orchestration, much like the intricate detail in a snowflake’s design…each so similar from a distance yet so unique and impossible to replicate in every measure.

Today was a day in a day, just like any other but so special and unique.
My son returned from a long stay in California to visit my grandma and be with my family. The reunion was joyous of course. While he was gone I came to the solid realization that my heart was not breaking that I was not there, rather, I was there through him, he was living moments for me in a way that I could truly taking in all the precious memories that I took in as a child in my grandma’s house in which so many things have remain unchanged. I know the smells of and serene feeling of sitting out on her deck as the fog rolls in off the bay and all the little details to be experienced in no other home than hers. Through Deed’s, my sweet son, I felt the joy of seeing (though his eyes) my cousin who I hardly know marry. I didn’t miss a thing, because Diederick was there. This is something that I needn’t tell anyone of, it’s mine just to wonder over. It’s a special power that I previously really didn’t realize. It’s a selfishness that truly is beautiful and mighty.

As I die one day, I will not fear that I will miss out. The reason for this is as clear as anything unexperienced could possibly be. As true as any promise that could come from a faultless friend. I live because I have had the opportunity to embrace the most powerful and meaningful essence that ever there was or ever there could be. It’s love. Life is in death. The clarity of this that life is a race, a race not for perfection, but one lived so true and so without opportunity to take back that it is a thrill even in the still moments. It’s an honor, and a privilege, but then too…

The final race is that unto death, because it was for that where there is final quiet.

I know where I want to be buried. Perhaps I’ve always known.

In the cemetery by the small church where I was married. I don’t care that my love might leave me before my life does. I want to be buried there because of the happiness that brought me there. True, pure and simple. What a beautiful day it was. The breeze was perfect, the sun was not blinding, nor the shadows too deep as often they can be. My inexpensive vail, my over sprayed too spirally hair looked lovely and felt incredibly timeless. We were a bubble of bliss: me and my dress, my flowers against the smile that motivates and radiates my world. His smile was of pride, in the best of ways, he admired me and I could see desired me in the beautiful way that two people can want each other when they are yet unfamiliar and have not yet knit the fabric that will either pull them apart or draw then together in the way that everyone wants but so few really obtain. I confess now, as I did then, that I picked that church for a handful of reasons, one of those was that I knew that I would not have many guests. Another was that it was a place that I had enjoyed as a child. Another that the simplicity of it was quite to my liking. It was a place that you would only find if lost or looking for it.

My metaphorical race in life is reaching an important benchmark: 13 years of marriage. The joys, the sarcasms, the comments that cut like little tiny slivers, the itty lies that don’t matter: it’s the love that makes the coffee in the morning, the bonds that make the days long and the years fleeting as we watch our children grow. It’s the lines in our faces, the jokes that we share. It’s the together forever, as long as forever lasts.

Every couple’s forever is it’s own length. At that I do, wherever it is said, is the beginning that covers up some other ending.

I want my death to be like my wedding. Something you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. Meaningful to me, deep and true just like the day that I said I do.

For me it is is a divide, in perspective, the desire I mean…

As to whether I should like to be there for them, through every hardship and happiness in the flesh or if I’d like to go first so that I couldn’t feel the fear of losing this. While I write these lines though, I feel a peace, seeing through my words that either way I need not fear because they are an extension of me. I will feel through them, anything and everything that I am meant to feel.

We are born to die. Each his or her separate and special way designed my the master and maker. It is for Him to decide when and where each of us no longer will be in the game, where our race folds for the next journey to bloom and unfold. As it was he would formed and designed, it is for him to be present for the last breath.

1Co 9:26
I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air:
unchecked, But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.

Photo A Day Plan

Monday, June 4th, 2018

I keep emailing myself a photo with the subject line of whatever I’d like the blog post to be about. Because, reality is that I cannot sit down and write a post in the moment I’m thinking of. Even more reality, sometimes I never reach my desk top computer at all in the space of that 24 hrs that I was thinking of the body of the entry that I intended to go between the photo and subject line. SO!! I believe what I’ll do in order to keep consistent posts rolling in is to put directly in here the photo and subject line, with the intent to fill in the rest under my edit option, that way the glass is more half full than half empty. Perhaps that euphemism doesn’t work for you, but it does for me and I really think that’ll be the plan from here.
Remember the Wordless Wednesday thing that was popular like a decade or so ago? No? Well, consider this a spin off.

I will add the category “Photo A Day 2018”
There are tons of excuses for why I might not have an hour to write down words and edit. Honestly, I hate my excuses, and seriously…there are what, two readers out there?! Maybe. And, you may just scroll for pictures anyway!

Again, if you’re here, THANK YOU!!! I’m leaving like the 20th or so, and will actually pop in some prescheduled photos to appear, in order to keep up with my personal challenge to write daily. For my time away I’ll be able to use the old North Dakota Tales category that I formed many years back. Hurray.

33 years old.

Friday, February 9th, 2018

Happy birthday to me in 2 days. This year Darren and I are celebrating 13 years of marriage. My gosh. When I look in the mirror and smile, I see right there the person who was posting regularly here so many years back. I remember writing, “where will I be X years from now.” here I am, still typing and still alive very blessed in every aspect of life. Each day has been complete in it’s own way, some sad others brimming with joy. My youngest is 6 just a week after I’m 33. Her face is gorgeous, her spirit is so sweet and her laugh is priceless.

Darren works on my birthday as he did the year I wrote the post titled, My Nice Day
Life has kind of gone back to that place. I have my oldest home again full time with me, the difference is really great though. We’ve reached our goal of owning a home, and are not away from family anymore.

My goals are pretty much the same as ever. I want to be patient and kind, I want to keep fit and active, I always hope to pray and read my bible. Through the years I continue to remind myself that in order to care for my family and follow the appropriate paths in life I have to take care of myself as well. Stay happy so that I can bring everyone else up is really my number one.

Here’s to 33 years, and hopefully a few more.

One Click

Friday, November 10th, 2017

Yipes.

The fewest words can mean the most. The smallest searches can yield the most meaningful results.

Staying in pajamas rather than getting dressed first thing in the morning can change the whole outcome of a day.

Reading a scripture verse that means a lot to me rather than thirty minutes trying to find the meaning of Leviticus can be so different even though they both come from the Book Of Life.

These are the things I’m meditating upon this morning as I’ve missed days on the Blog Every Day of November challenge and flopped on my goal to fast 48 hours at 32.

All of these choices can be seen or of be any consequence to anyone aside from myself unless I let any go on without alteration for too long.

If I end this post right now it’ll just be the ramblings of someone who had too much soy this morning, to her non existent audience.

Know what? I’m going stop searching the stereotypes of tongue piercings, realizing it’d probably be a waste of $60 and make people think I’m an oral sex addict if I had it done.
I’m going to take a shower and put on a cute, bordering on sexy dress, smile at myself in the mirror.
I’m going to restart my fasting app. I’m going to read Isaiah 25:8. I’m going to clean the kitchen, put away laundry and vacuum. I’m going to make myself a cup of tea, and sit down and read a chapter of Leviticus. Once I finish that cup of tea, I’ll close my bible and think about what I’m going to make for dinner. It’ll be something my family will love, something also that I can resist eating because I’m going to make that 48hr fast happen. All of this will happen, without anyone seeing or wondering why.

One click, one moments choice to take the day in another direction can mean everything to me and nothing to anyone else. If I stay in my pajamas, leave my bible closed, everything may not happen. If I followed that path then I would deserve being asked what I’d done all day and it’d be a thing. What did I do?

Oh, I’m looking forward to the mail coming, because I ordered some adorable earrings. In one click, because ordering online is that easy. <3 And now, non existent audience, goodbye. I'll see you back here next time. Make good choices, live an orderly day. Make someone smile, keep your environment clean and just stay happy. There's no second chances at today, and tomorrow's a story that you'll get to write...have the courage to make tomorrow's story amazing...only you have the power to do so, noticed or not. [caption id="attachment_9587" align="aligncenter" width="441"] A yesterday, 2015.[/caption]

Busy, at last!

Friday, April 28th, 2017

(Unable to insert any photos…maybe my blog needs an update)

Much of my life feels like chugging through stuff, same routine, mind mulling through different things while routine pretty much really is the same ebbing maybe with the kids stages of life. Currently we’re at ages 5 through 10, which is pretty big considering that in the fall I’ll have everyone in school for the first time–AJ in Kindergarten, Koen in 2nd, Carly (who has been homeschooling this year) in 4th, and Deeder in 5th grade. As for me, I’m subbing now in schools without our district which puts me so far in three elementary schools and the high school.

Learning to drive still remains a goal that I haven’t achieved. Last summer I got to drive quite a bit, but it wasn’t super residential roads much less the highway. Darren tells me that everyone gets in an accident, which I’m really not into considering I kinda have a lot at stake with my mama duties and all, the whole balance of risk and benefit really isn’t super in favor of driving.

I am ever thankful for Darren. He really keeps the boat of life afloat. Not only does he take the kids to their activities, he does the grocery shopping, works hard to supply us with everything we need, keeps us on track spiritually and is a true and faithful husband and friend to me. And life carries on, comfortable, blessed and with a future just full of growth and blessing.

I’m happy, health really could not ask for more.