They aren't the only thing that's moldering. During the last year, wrinkles have deepened, gray hairs have doubled, and I just feel older, although objectively I know I'm merely middle-aged. I still feel ✨sparky✨half of the time, and I have much for which I am deeply grateful.
But I'm struggling. In the space of a year, the future I took for granted disappeared, and we all discovered that the place in which we intended to dwell never existed.
No good comes of mucking about in the Slough of Despond, but one can lose hope in heartache. People who don't, won't, or can't understand may interpret the sorrow as self-pity or as an overly dramatic response to the commonplace. Children often move far away, grandchildren often are distant, and we often don't see those we love as much as we'd like. The truth is, though, that the commonplace is where deepest joy and sorrow are found-- birth, death, and everything in between. And distance is hard. The ties that bind us to those we love must, of necessity, evolve when distance lies between. Loving someone who lives within easy driving distance is different than loving someone who does not, and it's ignorant of anyone to believe otherwise.
I've not yet learned how to say goodbye to the common gift of growing relationships in the flesh-- inviting grown children and their families over for dinner, being present for baptisms and birthdays, making impromptu visits to help plant gardens, and reading books to grandchildren while their parents are on a date; all these were assumptions that were never promised but that I never imagined living without. And I don't know how to truly comfort those still here. Mapping out a land unseen is impossible, so I guess we're not supposed to make maps. Are God's lessons always like this?
I write this, of course, recognizing that the sadness of distance is a minor thing compared to the unimaginable circumstances of so many. I also know that those mighty and unimaginable hardships require the Lord to pour unusual amounts of grace onto those who bear them. Our small burden, perhaps, is not due that pouring out of grace but is just something one must learn to carry.
Posting light-hearted commentary on shotsnaps seems dishonest without marking what has great effect on family and friends, but writing anything about it seems wrong, too. In some ways, this is a terrible season for blogging. Who wants to read maudlin posts from the teary-eyed World's Most Conflicted Blogger? Not me. I don't even want to write them. I do want to start catching up on posts eventually, though, mostly to fill in the gaps in what has been our only family album for almost 20 years now. (Ulp. Yes, twenty years. It's no wonder life has me moldering.)
Of course there are good things.
Good things never cease.
Mallory Mirth is the best last baby.
So while I've moved on to speaking of good things and lovebirds and babies...
God gave the best gift to Tim and Annika shortly after their marriage.
Say "hullo, hi, howdy" to Baby Tiger-Fish!!!
These pictures from early December make up for the "Mother Buttons Up Daughter's Wedding Dress"pictures I did not get with Annika on her wedding day because I was running around like a lunatic unleashed. Really, now, how can you top "Middle-Aged Mother Compares Baby Belly to Daughter's?"
Being a young mom with two kids under two, I don't know all your going through. My own mother would definitely understand, as her nine children and seven grandchildren are scattered across the country. It is super exciting about Annika and Tim's baby. Having followed your blog for several years now, it's crazy to see how much your family has grown and grown up. Annika looks so much like you.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing.Daughters usually stick close by more than sons and my friend's daughters all live close by with their families. My own daughter has to live in another state and can't visit more than a few times a year. It is different. I try not to think about all we miss, but it's hard. With your girls being so close in age it's probably hard on them too.
ReplyDeleteBabies are wonderful! It's clear from their faces that Tim and Annie know this. :) God give you, your family, and Annika grace to bear the distance.
ReplyDeleteDavid and I immediately sensed how special your home is the minute we drove into the driveway. We felt the warmth and love of all those who have lived within those walls, both past and present, while standing in your glorious kitchen. This legacy of love is the gift that each of your children will carry in their hearts forever, and blessing each new generation thereafter.
ReplyDeleteWelcome Baby Vernot to your legacy of deeply rooted love.
This post undoes me. Molly's comment does too.
ReplyDeleteI am currently reading The Brothers Karamazov and yesterday I came across a passage that I wanted to share with you. It is referring to a mother who is grieving over the loss of her precious child. You are not dealing with infant death but, in a sense, you are grieving over death of another sort. A death of certain hopes and dreams. Perhaps it will encourage you, as it did me:
“This,” said the elder, “is Rachel of old ‘weeping for her children, and she would not be comforted, because they are not. This is the lot that befalls you mothers, on earth. And do not be comforted, you should not be comforted, do not be comforted, but weep. Only each time you weep, do not fail to remember that your little son is one of God’s angels, that he looks down at you from there and sees you, and rejoices in your tears and points them out to the Lord God. And you will be filled with this great mother’s weeping for a long time, but in the end it will turn into quiet joy for you, and your bitter tears will become tears of quiet tenderness and the heart’s purification."
So weep, friend. But each time you weep, remember that the Lord works all things together for good. Both the weeping AND the remembering are good and necessary things.
I weep with you. I remember with you.
And more superficially:
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing all these pictures of Annie! I don't get to see glimpses as I am not on bereal or other things. I really appreciate it! I miss her bursting smile. And I love the glimpses of her growing Tiger-fish. And her cute little porch. And that maternity romper/overall outfit that she rocks. And the flowers on her table. All the little things that I want to see but wouldn't without this! So thank you.
As much as this blog creates conflict in your heart to write, it is a lifeline for Annie to her family and a lifeline to Annie for me. It will be the same for Millie. I am whole-heartedly in favor of reading even maudlin blog posts. And ALL the time. (Starting in June.) (I had to look that word up...from now on, just call me Maud. It suits me.)
Also- middle-aged? Really?! Coulda fooled me. You look like an older sister to Annie in those belly pictures. Very beautiful. Very special. The answer to your question- how can it be topped? It can't.
What book had a cover insert like that? That is really great.
You gotta keep blogging so I can steal the pictures to make you another physical photo-book with photos of new babies and multiple weddings as a gift for you this christmas.. 😉
ReplyDeleteI came back to look at these bursting smiles, to think of you all and pray.
ReplyDeleteThen I was giddy-thrilled to realize the mugs in the one photo was our wedding gift to them! YAY!
Rebecca is right - no matter how sparse or jumbled or after-the-fact any post may be, they are such a sweet thread to tie us to you & your family.
Thank you so much.
XOXOXO
Elisabeth,
ReplyDeleteI'll tell Annika you said so. It's strange that people keep seeing similarities in us now that she's older, because when she was younger, she looked just like John! I won't complain. ;)
Anonymice,
Thank you for commenting and sharing your thoughts/words. This is universal, yes?
Molly,
Thank you for these kind words. May it be so.
Rebecca,
I just finished The Brothers Karamazov this past winter after setting it down for months once Annika got engaged. I finished it right before Millie got engaged, and there were many passages I would have jotted down had I not been reading it on my Kindle at unearthly hours of the night, including this one.
Thank you for understanding and thank you for your words.
I did talk to Annika about starting a blog. I think she's too overextended to actually do it right now, but maybe once Baby Tigger arrives and settles in? I don't know. I was going to say maybe in the slower pace of winter, but if this winter is anything like their last winter, the pace won't slow down much. :)
Justin,
I actually came on here today to shut my blog down again, ha! Oh, well. I guess the fates are against me. You have already outdone yourself with gifts, kind sir. Christmas isn't a bad goal for catch-up, though. I'm currently only...erm...ten months behind. Yikes.
Heidi,
THey LOVE those mugs, and so does everyone else! Susannah actually searched all over Etsy for them so she could see if they're still being sold. After all these years of seeing and receiving your exceptional gifts, my daughters think you have the finest taste...because you do. ;) Blogging will return at some point. In the interim, we MUST HAVE AT LEAST ONE VISIT THAT DOES NOT INCLUDE AN OVERWHELMINGLY LARGE WEDDING There. Let's do it.
p.s.
ReplyDeleteRebecca,
The quote is from the front page of Roald Dahl's book Danny the Champion of the World. That insert is the best part of the book. ;) I ripped it out of an illustrated Roald Dahl collection and have had it tacked to the sunroom wall for the last 14 years because it's a good reminder. It's pretty tattered now. I'll have to post a picture of it sometime.