Despite the counters full of disarray, the floors that need vacuuming, and work that needs doing, I am slowly beginning to get the feeling that I am digging out from under. I suspect it's just a feeling, but that has to count for something.
My mind is beginning to come into focus, and with each day that passes I find it wandering less and less. I dreamed about Daddy last Sunday. We were riding through the fields at the farm in his green '78 Ford truck. He was driving. I was riding--the way we spent hour upon hour in that truck. Occasionally I can control myself in my dreams, and I found myself able to in this one. I reached for his hand and looked at him and said, "Daddy, I sure do miss you." He smiled at me and said,"Baby, don't do that." Some cultures believe that when you can control what you say in your dreams to a loved one who has passed on, they are visiting you in your dreams. He and I talked about that many times before he died. It's a little hoakie, but I like to think maybe, just maybe, it might be so. I have thought a lot about that dream, and the many times he and I spoke of the natural order of life. He counseled me on how to deal with his loss long before it ever came about, and those conversations replay in my mind frequently now. With them, the focus improves.
Part of my ritual of focus is to make order in my surroundings. I'm on a stretch of working 13 out of 17 days at work which means the majority of waking time at home is spent in the workout space which I have affectionately dubbed Gym Jen as inspired my Gym Jones and their philosophies. Thus, I have put the majority of my extra energies into straightening it (the DH has a way of piling crap around its edges). Having it straight helps me focus better. I can do a split squat actually thinking of the split squat instead of how much I wish all the crap were put away, LOL. I thought I'd share the fruits of my labor. There are some old shots in here, too, in case you were feeling a little deja vu.
Note one of my favorite new additions is the fan.
My mind is beginning to come into focus, and with each day that passes I find it wandering less and less. I dreamed about Daddy last Sunday. We were riding through the fields at the farm in his green '78 Ford truck. He was driving. I was riding--the way we spent hour upon hour in that truck. Occasionally I can control myself in my dreams, and I found myself able to in this one. I reached for his hand and looked at him and said, "Daddy, I sure do miss you." He smiled at me and said,"Baby, don't do that." Some cultures believe that when you can control what you say in your dreams to a loved one who has passed on, they are visiting you in your dreams. He and I talked about that many times before he died. It's a little hoakie, but I like to think maybe, just maybe, it might be so. I have thought a lot about that dream, and the many times he and I spoke of the natural order of life. He counseled me on how to deal with his loss long before it ever came about, and those conversations replay in my mind frequently now. With them, the focus improves.
Part of my ritual of focus is to make order in my surroundings. I'm on a stretch of working 13 out of 17 days at work which means the majority of waking time at home is spent in the workout space which I have affectionately dubbed Gym Jen as inspired my Gym Jones and their philosophies. Thus, I have put the majority of my extra energies into straightening it (the DH has a way of piling crap around its edges). Having it straight helps me focus better. I can do a split squat actually thinking of the split squat instead of how much I wish all the crap were put away, LOL. I thought I'd share the fruits of my labor. There are some old shots in here, too, in case you were feeling a little deja vu.
Note one of my favorite new additions is the fan.
I love the stuff about connecting with your Dad. I so vividly remember shortly after my son was born. My son was in his chair eating and I went to the bathroom, while in the bathroom my doorbell rang. I went to the door and it was my Dad...I opened it and said; "what are you doing here?" He said; "I came to meet Jared". He walked into the kitchen, took a look and then left. The kicker of this whole story??? My Dad had been passed for already 3 years before Jared was born.
ReplyDeleteI still get a chill and the hair on the back of my neck still stands every time I think of this story. It was so vivid and real-I know that it was truly him.....
Wow, Diana, I got a chill just reading that. I think the doorbell is the kicker for me. Why would you hear the doorbell ring if it was only a dream/hallucination? Coming to see his grandson is something my dad would do. :)
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