Faith can be fragile

“The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, 

and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, 

for each day to have a new and different sun.” 

~ Christopher McCandless

My kind of joy.

“... for each day to have a new and different sun.”

As we end what’s been an emotional week,

 I sought a new and different sunrise this morning.

Soul food was needed to boost a fragile spirit.  

Losing loved ones is never easy 

and even more so when said loved one is thousands of miles away.

My mom-in-law was a special soul. 

She faced whatever life threw at her with a dignity and courage that was beyond parallel.  

She walked hand in hand with God and knew without doubt that she was loved.  

Faith of this magnitude is truly beautiful.

As I sat watching the sun rise this morning I contemplated that faith.  Faith can sometimes be fragile.  

Hers wasn’t.  

It was unshakeable.

A life well lived for God and her family.

When moments like this happen, 

it reinforces the separateness of the lives we lead.

My family and friends are spread over continents. 

As my sun rises, their sun is setting.

As I welcome dawn, their skies are turning dark.

Would that I had a time machine to make the distance apart more manageable.

Rambles this week have been MORE than necessary.

Rambling itself is therapeutic.  The boardwalks and pathways of the Le Roys Bushwalk this morning provided all that and more.  This bushwalk isn’t a circular route and rises up from the salt marshes in Little Shoal Bay through two wetlands to mature bush on Le Roy Terrace. 

 We had to backtrack on more than one occasion when we got lost.  

Navigation issues again.

Or was it that my mind was on other things.

Death touches us all at some stage in our lives.

Despite the heaviness of my heart and the sadness I feel, 

I will always be grateful for having known and loved this special lady.

“Sometimes,' said Pooh, 'the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

A.A. Milne

Cherish those small things.

Caffeine is the kiss of death to slumber.

I rambled a little later than usual today.  

When the alarm rang at it’s usual time I grimaced.  I am TIRED with a capital T.  

Life is hectic and a tad stressful and NOT always easy.  

I needed more sleep and JUST for today,

the hound was going to have to wait a little longer for her ramble.  

It’s not just the hound who EXPECTS the daily routine to continue unabated though.  It’s the others in my life who’re used to seeing me in the waves at the same time each day. 

The strident ringing of the telephone bought that extra hour of slumber to an end.

As did the wet nose of a hound intent on encouraging me out of bed.

Her delight at being in the waves with ginormous logs to retrieve soothed any resentment I might have had at a wet nose in my face.  She makes me smile and smiling always makes life more manageable.  The wind whipped the cobwebs away as the caffeine fix roused the brain.  There’s something infinitely satisfying about sitting on the sand with the tantalising taste and flavour of caffeine assailing your nostrils.  

Caffeine is the kiss of death to slumber.

It’s going to be another busy week. There are shifts at the shop that need filling as one colleague is away on holiday and another has recently lost her father.  Death affects us all and the sudden manner in which this colleague lost her father bought memories of my dad’s death flooding back.

My dad died so unexpectedly and so young and I miss him.  

Her loss makes my heart ache.

Rambling today filled more than just the hound’s and my need for exercise.  

It allowed me to reminisce, to wander back through the pathways of time and value the input he had in my life and that of the lemmings.  He would be so proud of the way they’ve grown and the young people they’ve become.

He’d be so proud of me and the woman I’ve become.

So I drew on the sand and the hound dug trenches and the tide washed away my pictures as the wind whipped away my tears.

They were necessary.  

Reminiscing is necessary.  

It reminds us of the input other people have in our lives,

the emotions they carve into our hearts and the values they sew into our souls. 

As the hound and I rambled home, the Kingfishers flirted on the telephone lines. There were a pair of them and they cruised from one line to the next as we crossed roads and turned corners.  

They know they’re safe from my lens when they sit on the telephone lines. 

Today it was different though.  They accompanied the hound and I right to the bottom of our road.  

Maybe they knew my spirts were in need of upliftment.

“Yes I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can find his way by moonlight, and see the dawn before the rest of the world.” 

~ Oscar Wilde