Yearly Archives: 2012

Each morning I rise.  I head to the area of the house where my stationary bike is placed.  I mount the bike and begin 20 minutes of exercise. 

Occasionally I glance at the wall.  There is a picture frame containing 5 photos.  Two are of the family.  One when the “four of us” included children, the next at the high school grad of my son.

The three inner pictures are telling.  Telling  the story my mother-in-law explained on Facebook the other day. 

Each picture is of a couple.  One is of my wife and I.  Another is of my parents.  The third is of the Cooper’s, Jill’s parents. 

These pictures are dated.  Dated to a time when we all had a companion we called out spouse.  Now we do not!

As Mom Cooper explained (and, Mom, I’m adding a little bit more here!):  there are still days you come home and want to share the happenings – not the catastrophes or the excitements – just the flower that was beautiful or the funny comment that was overheard, or the smile of recognition from a friend.  And, no one is  there.  But God.

Not a bad “but”. 

But, flesh and blood have a way of filling in what we can’t see of God.  Surely the creation story has that emphasis tucked  inside it. 

My mother, with dementia, will sometimes see me enter the Alzheimer’s wing of the residence where she lives – and she seems to mistake me for my father.  That resemblance strikes a chord even in those whose memory has failed.

And so today, I looked at those pictures.  And I prayed for each of us as surviving spouses.   I prayed that God would comfort us in our day, and that others, in flesh and blood, would come alongside us as companions for this day!

I’m not one to go to movies.  Last night I was asked by our town youth council coordinator to come to a free movie.  The town youth council, an initiative of our local town council, put these on periodically.  Last year Jill and I went for a short time, then decided mosquitos and bed beckoned us home.

The movie this year was on the Lorax – a Dr. Seuss takeoff!  Lots of fun lines and unique characters.  The idea of following your heart and persevering and the love of a woman, and family tensions, and the old vs. the new, and the villain and the underdog . . . well, all those themes were there.  This could suit many ages!

I decided to attend solo.  I’m getting used to that term.  Some one has asked me what labels I use for myself.  I find there are many.  Some I have had to discard.  I am no longer married.  Some have not changed.  I am still a father.   Some are in flux.  I am a widower, but within that category I can fluctuate on what I emphasize in different areas, such as being single (am I “eligible” or “contented”). 

Last night I was solo.  By myself.  On the grass: chuckling at lines, hoping for the underdog, wanting the family to pull together.   And when the credits arose, I arose and slipped home.  Thankful for a night of entertainment.  Contented with the time off of other pursuits.  And ready for bed!!

That is what I would call a good movie night!

About a month and a half ago I was wandering around my house.  I have chosen to keep things quite bare and sparse for a garden and flower bed.  That is based both on the fact that Jill mostly looked after the choice of flowers, and that I was adjusting to a “new normal.”

In my wandering, I saw a small plant.  New to me – unexpected.  I didn’t know how to tend the plant other than to water the soil.  Most days I would again check to see that the flower was still blooming.  As I became more attached, I contemplated how else I could keep the colors of life in this amazing plant.

I had  a planter filled with the soil that had nurtured other plants from other years.  I brought the pot out, placing it where  the sun would shine.  In the planter was other green growth.  Not too much to smother a new transplant. 

With a mind to bring the newness into my plant world, I carefully brought the flower, for which I really didn’t have a name, over to the planter and placed it there.  For the last while I have watered and tended.  Today, I love what I see!

Our town has a unique privilege.

Just on the outskirts is a small dam, called the Motherwell dam.  I sometimes wonder if the name could spell the reason a walking trail around the dam is such a good idea.

Mothers have been known to tell kids to “go for a walk” when they get out of sorts (OK, not when they are toddlers, but sometimes when they are older).  There is a certain wellness that comes from exercise and free thinking. 

I noted that last night as I circled the dam.  You can go at a leisurely pace or a quick trot.  The walk is less than 30 minutes for me.   In that time I was able to clear my head somewhat.  Although situations may not change, our pictures that haunt our heads can change. 

I wonder if I need to walk more often with that thought front and center in my mind, “Since God is for us . . .”.   I have a feeling things would be much better and life, although still filled with disappointments as well as pleasures, would provide a nest for us that was joyful.