7.26.26
It has been quite the week! Thankfully Heidi and her calf are doing great. The heifer’s hind legs corrected themselves within a few days and Heidi came out of her episode of milk fever with no problems at all. Following that saga, we had some pretty severe storms roll through our part of Oregon with many, many fires started by the lightning strikes. It seems as if so much of Oregon is ablaze right now and with the dry season well upon us, the lack of winter and spring moisture has set us up for these devastatingly large fires.
After the storm, a fire which started about a mile from us as the crow flies, was speedily extinguished due to the quick response of neighbours and forestry crews. A couple of days later another fire to the west flared up but is holding steady at around 2,300 acres. Since it is a good 6 miles directly west of us, I am not too concerned. However, some of the fires in surrounding communities have blown up something fierce! One fire, after rapidly joining another adjacent fire, has grown to a large complex of over 181,000 acres in size! Bless all those out there fighting the fires! From our local village volunteer agencies to other crews and firefighters coming in from all over the country, not to mention the huge support staff that keeps the fire crews going. Our grandson Evan, who works for the Oregon Department of Forestry, has been kept awfully busy working as an engine boss on some of these monsters burning out there.
Living where we do, wildfire at this time of the year is something we have had to deal with numerous times in the past. I am sure you can recall the fire that surrounded us two years ago. We were so fortunate to have been in that small horseshoe of land untouched by fire. This year, I sit alone on the front porch in the evening, wondering what the rest of the summer will bring.
Yes, this has been a very challenging week for me. With all the heavy smoke from the fires filling the skies and the temperatures hovering in the upper nineties for days on end, it has made working outside limited to early mornings and late evenings. So many things I would like to be doing to keep myself busy have been put on the back burner and for me, that is not a good thing! There are only so many chores in the house that can keep me occupied, for when I am not constantly busy, I tend to brood.
I am not one to complain, or at least I try not to complain, but I have found myself having a harder time keeping motivated and moving forward these past few days. Oh, I still wake up a little after four o’clock in the morning, reach for my glasses and say good morning to my dearest whose picture is the first thing I see. After a couple of minutes, I swing my legs out of bed and head into the kitchen to turn the kettle on for a cup of tea. As I pass the piano I reach over and gently touch where my dearest sits, telling him good morning once again. This little ritual is what helps me start my day, for yes, another day has begun.
Tears have come so often to my eyes this week. Maybe it is because of not being able to work hard outside as is my wont. Maybe the smoke and heat are taking their toll on me, I know my ticker and pacer have been having more arguments than usual! Or maybe I am just missing my dearest something fierce.
I miss him every day. Time passing does not ease the emptiness in my heart. Some days I feel like that lady in the television commercial who walks around with a Happy Face painted on a paddle she holds in front of her own face to make it seem as if all is well. Yes, somedays I find myself smiling and chatting to people I see when in the village, while behind that smile is a Rose who does not feel like smiling at all.
Those reading this who have lost the love of their life or someone dear and precious to them, will understand. Life moves on and we must move on with it, no matter how hard, no matter how challenging that may be. Our loved ones would not want us to curl up in a ball of despair. It is okay to grieve. I am learning to give myself grace and allow myself to sob out loud, to let the tears flow unhindered down my face. There is a little poster on my fridge door that speaks volumes to me:
“Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was great love.”
This morning as I sit on the front porch, sipping a cup of tea while Bonnie and Bruin chase each other around the lavender bushes, there is an empty chair beside me. As I look out at the fields through the haze of smoke I think of how many times my dearest and I have sat just like this, wondering what the day will bring and hoping fire season treats us kindly. How I long to reach across and have his warm hand clasp mine. What I would not give to have him sitting here with me now.
Taking a sip of tea as the tears sting my eyes and start to fall, I glance again at that chair beside me. I feel a tentative smile coming on, for that chair is not really empty. Darrell is here with me, beside me always, watching over me and keeping me safe. Smiling for real now – not hiding behind a paddle with an artificial smile painted on it – I know I will be okay. Glancing again at that chair I hear myself say, “Another day my dearest, another day.”
