One Year Ago

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This is June 20, 2024. It has been one year since the early morning when I sat by Dennis’s bed, holding his hand, as he took his last breath. Time has separated me from that experience, and so much has happened that I acknowledge it has been many months. And yet, it seems short, as if it were only yesterday. You would think I would be used to the craziness of time by now.

I have gone back to the beginning of the story by reading my blog posts from 2018 and on. The good thing about this reading exercise is that it helps me remember details, some of them tragic, some of them ridiculously funny. I also lit the remembrance candle while doing this – a sort of ceremony. I will probably go to the cemetery later and see if the plants around his marker have taken root. I expect the day to be full of memories of our Lewy Body time, but also of simpler times when we didn’t know what was coming.

I haven’t had trouble continuing with life. It is good, this June, to be able to put bouquets of peonies around the house, to consider going to events during the local festival, to meet new friends in a hiking club. There has been too much to do to even consider sitting around feeling depressed or lonely. I miss Dennis, but there is nothing like a prolonged period of sickness and suffering to make it clear that death was a relief for him, and for me. And there is nothing like faith in God to make it clear that death is not the end, even though there are not a lot of details about what comes next.

As I watch our little granddaughter, whom Dennis did not get to meet, grow and become amazing, I’m aware of how closely together his departure and her arrival were. I view it as providential that he was able to look at the early ultrasound and recognize it as “Julie’s baby”. He would be so proud of her now.

Our little Gwendolyn Ruth

It was providential that he was present at both daughters weddings during the covid years. It was providential that each difficult part of the worst five years of our lives held such precious, significant moments. There were times when relationships were formed, and deepened, times when we didn’t expect help but it was there anyway. Times when we endured things we didn’t think we could endure, and found strength we didn’t know we had.

Thank you God, for being real to me through it all. You were, you are and you will be present with me. That gives me a lot of peace, freedom from worry and a weird sense of confidence. Pretty happy about that, just sayin’…

Being Grandma in 2024

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This year has produced three times with GwennieRu so far. The first was in December – February when she had her heart surgery, the second was when she visited Wisconsin in April, and now I am with her and the family again at the end of May.

I chose this date to come because Daddy Kevin and the boys were traveling to a baseball game in Baltimore for three days. During that time, it was me, Julia, Gwennie, Ryleigh and her girlfriend, and Reagan and her girlfriend holding things together at the farm. We all helped with baby care. I helped with farm chores and some landscaping projects. We women can do some awesome getting along when we set our minds to it.

The boys left Thursday afternoon, earlier than I was expecting. I was out getting my food supplies when the nanny called me and wanted to know who was taking over, as she needed to get home. I did a U-turn and came home to relieve her. Julia was soon home from work and we started our time without the men.

Friday morning – well, first I must explain about the dogs. Back in February I mentioned the mating of Penny the lab, and Hanky Panky the poodle. Eight puppies resulted from this union. The planned kennel area in the basement had not materialized and the puppies had been born and raised in the living room and kitchen, upstairs. Sales of Doodles have dropped off since Covid time and the six remaining puppies are now 10 weeks old. Previously, it had been a challenge living with the three adult dogs who are good at being in the way at every opportunity. Now there are nine dogs. Six of them are still in the process of being trained. Six of them are small enough to slip under the chain link fence when left outside. Need I say more.

We are so cute, and we know it.

Friday morning my first trick was mixing cereal, getting Gwennie in the high chair and feeding her. It didn’t go quite as planned. When Gwennie doesn’t want something, like sitting in the high chair, she makes it impossible to happen. Fighting her and the newfangled baby equipment resulted in a bowl of cereal upside down on the carpet and a distressed child (not to mention a distressed grandma).

Julia left for work, and I took Kevin’s usual job of watching Gwennie until the nanny arrived. I had not quite caught on to the morning routine, and Gwennie could tell. I picked her up to comfort her and walked to the kitchen in time to see several puppies, outside, on the wrong side of the fence. Babe in arms, I rushed out to secure them before they ran away.

Calling “puppies, puppies, puppies” as I had heard Julia doing, I opened the gate expecting them to come back in the yard. Instead, the puppies who had still been in the yard ran out to play with their siblings as I struggled to control the flow. Gwennie was mesmerized, clinging to me as, one handed, I tried to scoop them in the right direction. Once in the yard, they followed me into the house and I shut their doggy door. Thankfully, the nanny arrived and I went out to find the new escape route and block it.

Doing that, the feeding chores, and a good bit of weed whacking took most of my day. Later that evening, as I was telling Julia about my morning, she dejectedly asked me if this visit was turning out to be as bad as the last time. Seeing the situation on the farm through the lens of my writing had been kind of hard on her. That is the tricky thing about writing experiences of the kind where one has to laugh to keep from crying. In reality, Julia has to do this ALL THE TIME, and I know she is doing the best job she can. I am now learning to laugh more while in the midst of the normal chaos. Just so you know Julie, my visits to you and the family are rich with all kinds of experiences that I do not regret or shy away from.

Tomorrow, my week of substitute nanny begins. I am looking forward to being with Gwennie, the family, the dogs and puppies. Just sayin’…

Don’t worry Grandma. You will get the hang of it, eventually.

Helping and Being Helped: the Equation

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I do not know if helpee is a word, but its meaning is pretty clear when I combine it with helper, right? These two positions are inseparable, and sometime in life, most of us will get a chance to experience both of them.

Recently, an elderly neighbor who had lost her husband, and her beloved dog decided that she had to have another dog to keep her company. She found a retriever mix in a shelter and brought it home. The trouble started when she found it was difficult to walk the dog. She was having trouble with her back and it was easy for all of us neighbors to see it when we watched her walk. I love to walk, so I offered to walk the dog for her.

My friend Shasta was always happy to accept a walk.

She accepted help, because she had to, for the dog’s sake. But, because it made her feel like she owed me something, she was always rewarding me with money, gift cards, pie, when a simple “thank you” would have done. She was not going to be beholden. Her independent spirit would not allow it. She had not yet learned to be a gracious helpee.

One day she fell and had to call 911. Even though she spent a couple days in the hospital, the doctors couldn’t identify what was wrong and she was sent home to wait for test results. She fell again. This time she didn’t want to return to the hospital, so she didn’t call 911. She stayed on the floor for quite a long time until she was able to reach a family member. She ended up going to the hospital anyway. She will now have to go through a couple months in a rehab facility to regain the ability to walk.

I admire an independent spirit. I am all for people taking care of themselves and their own business for as long as possible. But I wrestled with my neighbor’s attitude toward receiving help when she really needed it, when it was offered with no strings attached.

I came one morning to walk the dog and she told me she had not slept well at all the previous night. Her bedroom smoke alarm started beeping because of low battery and drove her nearly crazy. I offered to do that quick and easy chore for her. No, she said. She didn’t have any new batteries. I told her I had a lot of batteries and would be right back with one. No, she said. She would have her grandson attend to it that evening. By this point in our relationship I was used to being a little aggressive, so I told her it would drive me crazy if I had to listen to that noise all day – I was going to change it for her. No, she said. She was going to stay in the living room, with the TV on, so she wouldn’t hear it. Her grandson would fix it later. No, no, no. Don’t help me.

Sometimes, the idea that we are bothering someone, or that we will owe them something keeps us from accepting reasonable help. In the end we can cause more trouble and frustration for those who want to help. It caused a lot of trouble for my friend’s family, who had to respond to her second emergency at an unexpected time.

My new theory is that we are all here to learn two things during our lifetime. The first is that we should care about others, learn to serve graciously, and love one another. The second is that we are all going to find ourselves helpless, at the end of our rope, not in charge, and in need. We will need to graciously admit that fact. Do you see it? Helpers and helpees… If helpers have no one to help, they can’t learn the first lesson. If helpees have no one caring for them, they don’t learn the second lesson.

Gracious acceptance of help is a hard lesson, one I am not eager to learn. But, I have given it a lot of thought lately, and because of this experience, my attitude toward being helped is changing. I want to be gracious, when the time comes.

Which of these lessons is hardest for you? Have you had to accept help? How did it make you feel? What roles do pride and humility have in this equation?

What God Does with Some of My Days

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Today I told God to do anything he wanted with my schedule. I have found this is always a good idea.

Today I walked to Walmart and wandered around, looking for seeds, a screw eye, and milk. I found all three. It was entertaining as usual.

A new addition at Walmart – signs of our time.

Today I installed the screw eyes on the sides of my patio. I attached ratchet straps to them and fastened my awning down so it won’t rip off and fly away.

Today, while getting tools for the above project, I found a jar of screws and odd gadgets that came from mom’s garage when she moved. I have my own jar like that so I combined them and got rid of a not needed jar. I straightened my tools while I was there.

Today I found an ugly cup holding pens and pencils, and was going to dispose of it. I thought better of that and scrubbed the ugly pink and black decal off the cup and put the pens in another pen holder. It’s not a bad cup.

The not bad cup.

Today I planted the seeds I bought so that later this summer I will have a pot of cherry tomatoes and some cucumbers. I moved my raised planters to get better sunlight.

Seeds in the sun, bright orange strap holding my awning down.

Today I had trouble closing one of my kitchen drawers and had to clean and re-arrange the things in it. The electric knife was in the drawer and I remember that the blades wouldn’t eject when I wanted to use it. I spent an hour figuring out what was wrong, fixed and cleaned it and back in the drawer it went.

Clean drawer

Today I emailed some friends and cancelled a biking trip that was scheduled for Thursday. It’s most likely going to be raining that day. I don’t like to bike in the rain.

Today, since I’m not going biking this week, I took my twin bikes to the shop to be made clean and safe. They will be used a lot this summer and need some love.

Today I washed last year’s ants out of the hummingbird feeder, made some sugar water to go in it, and hung it out where the hummingbirds can find it.

Today I talked with my auto insurance adjuster and made an appointment at the auto body shop to fix my car’s tailgate. I ran into something last week and I like my car too much to leave it with that rather large dent.

Today I made arrangements for my next visit to Gwennie Ru and contacted my favorite people who let me rest at their homes on the way.

The day is not over yet. Although I haven’t done anything of great importance, there were numerous small things that were satisfying, restful, and worth doing. I won’t question God’s decisions about my day. He knew I needed a day with sunshine and small successes. It was a good day.

Shadow the Cat

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I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with a more original name for a black cat than Shadow, but as it has turned out, my Shadow is aptly named. She follows me around the house like a dog, choosing her spot near where I am working (and sometimes on what I’m working with). She prefers my lap, but if that’s not available, she will sit on the back of my chair, or watch my computer screen with me as I type. She is extremely relational.

Shadow accompanied me on the difficult journey of watching my husband deteriorate and die. She spent hours sitting on his lap too, waiting for him to pet her or tease her with the little laser flashlight. She noticed when he was gone, for sure. Our whole routine changed in many ways.

I started to travel after my first grandchild was born and spent weeks at a time away from home. Shadow was not used to being with other animals, and didn’t like being in the car, so I felt it was best to have her stay at home. One of my neighbors came in almost daily to check her food and water, and sit with her. She would read a book out loud, which Shadow enjoyed.

There came a time when I knew I would be away more than two weeks, and as it turned out, I was gone for two months. I arranged for a young person to stay in my home to care for Shadow. I expected that she would be there most every evening and whenever she wasn’t working. She liked Shadow, and had once had a cat of her own. I felt good about the arrangement.

The reality was much different. Unforseen circumstances kept my house sitter away. Even though she told me she thought everything was okay, everything was NOT okay. Shadow was without food or water for a time, and was quite stressed when it was discovered.

Upon returning home I found Shadow skinny, her fur completely licked off in many places, scabs and open sores where she had scratched herself raw, and exhibiting a completely changed personality. She sat huddled for days in a box that I set up for her with a heating pad in it. She did not want to be touched and would crouch and cringe to get away from my hand. Shadow had separation anxiety and I didn’t know if she was going to pull out of it or not.

Shadow, pre-separation anxiety and trauma
Shadow, two months into recovery and still looking a bit ragged.

She was obviously miserable, and with so little quality of life, I considered putting her down more than once. But with veterinary help, and time she has improved. I have prayed for wisdom, and for her to be healed (yes, I pray for pets because they have meaning in people’s lives).

It has been a little over two months now, and in the last week I have once again seen Shadow gallop through the house at top speed and slide around a corner. She has regained trust of my hand, and wants petting. She enjoys looking out the window at spring as it evolves.

She went outside one day, where she usually sits in the sun on the patio. I left the door open for her since the blackbirds sometimes chase her and give her a scare. While I was not paying attention, she brought in a bird, which I did not notice until it started flying around the dining room. It hit the window, trying to get out, and Shadow and I both scrambled to get it first. I won and released the poor bird outside. It’s not that I like her playing with birds and torturing them, but it made me aware of how much she had recovered. I felt happy that she was a cat again, doing what cats do. The constant scratching and licking has stopped. Her fur is slowly growing back.

Going forward, I know she is prone to be stressed out at my absence again. She is a female cat, she is the only pet, she was orphaned early and she has a high degree of attachment to people. I have read about separation anxiety in cats and have a much better understanding of what happened to her. I intend to make better arrangements for her in the future, when I have to be away.

Why does this story matter? Well, I think animals are amazing and are an important part of a perfectly created earth environment. God had good reasons for them being here. I don’t put animals in the same category as humans because God doesn’t. But they are in a special category of their own.

When we take them to ourselves and make them dependent on us as pets, we have opportunities to grow in compassion, in faithfulness, in awareness of “others”, in skill… so many ways. How many of us got a pet before we had children so we could learn to care for a responsive, innocent life? How many of us enjoy companionship of pets when we don’t have children or a spouse? Animals are like us in so many ways that sometimes it is scary. And so many times they are even better than we are. They matter. How we treat them matters.

I am glad Shadow is doing better. She is my cat, and I love her. We’re not giving up yet.

cat selfie

I Found Some Spring

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Ever since about age eight or nine, I have been outside in April looking for spring to start in the northwoods. What I look for is a flower so small it is easily missed, but it is usually the first one to appear here. It has a special place in my heart. It’s called hepatica, mainly because of the leaf that has lobes like a liver (the prefix hepa refers to the liver). The leaf often turns dark under fallen leaves and snow but doesn’t completely deteriorate, which is probably why its flowers appear so early.

Mostly brown with a few pine greenery thrown in

I walked this week in the woods, hoping to get some inspiration from my friends, the trees. The woods are still pretty barren. The buds on the trees aren’t prominent and the landscape is pretty brown and grey. But I am delighted to have seen some spring – the flowers are here.

We always called them mayflowers, but I think that was descriptive of when they bloomed, not their actual name. White, pink, purple, blue are their usual colors and their stems have a delicate fuzziness to them. Sometimes a plant will have multiple blooms, sometimes just one. But they are life in the forest and I get a little thrill when I start finding them. It’s still April, so they are a bit early.

The leaves are from another plant, not hepatica

Maybe it’s because I am getting older that I notice aging in the forest more than I used to. I notice the older pines that are losing their lower branches, the ground around them littered with boughs that wind and snow brought down. I notice the dead trees, with bark peeling off and holes where birds have been hunting insects. Sometimes it’s a large tree that lost its hold and crashed down to the forest floor, its root bed sticking up in the air. There is a lot of destruction and death evident as a natural feature of the ecosystem. The woods looks quite messy at this time of year.

Sometimes it looks like there are more dead trees than living ones. Sad.
The woods can be a violent place of damage, destruction

Soon though, the ferns will be up, hiding much of the mess on the ground. Green leaves will cover up the mess above. Everything that died will continue to make its way back to the soil and nourish other life. It’s a beautiful pattern and has many lessons embedded in it. The patient, ever changing forest…

Maybe I was inspired out there, to record what I saw. It is a comforting thing, that spring has come at its appointed time once again. And I imagine that summer will come soon after. Seasons can be counted on, at least for now. This season, spring, is all about new things coming to life. Look for them. Just sayin’…

The early beginnings don’t shout to be seen, but they are there for those who will look.

A Boat Full of Water

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It was tricky getting good pictures of this outing since phones and water do not mix well. I think you’ll get the idea though. Fun was had.

Today was overcast and cool, with a possibility of rain. We decided against taking a hike because Esther had an alternate idea that would keep us warm and entertained, at least for a couple of hours. Hot tub boats. Yes, it’s a thing.

We drove to Lake Washington, which is right in the city of Seattle. The lake is surrounded by skyscrapers, bridges, and highways. Its harbor is quite busy with all sizes of boats, and seaplanes. There are many houseboats, and waterfront businesses. There is a lot to look at. Someone came up with the idea of looking at it all while sitting in a hot tub, on a cute electric boat, with snacks on board and music.

I had filled out my waiver online the night before and got checked in quickly, along with Esther, Ryan and Jon. It seemed a little contrary to nature at first, taking off our warm clothes to the bathing suit layer and getting wet, on a day like this. But the water inside the boat was 104 degrees and felt really good. We stowed our food and watched a quick video tutorial on rules and regulations, then we were off.

How many feet away from shore?

I don’t remember all we were told, but the basics were 1) don’t get off the boat. 2) don’t let anyone else in the boat. 3) don’t go under any bridges 4) try not to hit anything. There was nothing to this boat except a joy stick for steering. The electric motors were quiet and invisible. There was a little bit of wooden deck at the front of the boat, with a hatch door covering a storage area. The rest of the boat was a hot tub with benches down both sides and the back.

This is the life… Space Needle coming up
We were told not to worry about the planes taking off and landing all around us. The pilots would worry about us, hopefully.

In the two hours we were on the water, we circled that part of Lake Washington and took in the sights, including the Space Needle and all the hustle and bustle of the city. I had never been on a mobile hot tub before and found it an interesting combination of bathing and boating. Esther has also done this at night and said it was especially beautiful.

I would recommend this outing to anyone visiting the Seattle area. Yeah, it was fun, and different from the average boat ride, and perfect for birthday week.

Parade of water homes.
Yachts from all over the world, fishing boats from Alaska

Birthday Week, Half Over

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Writing it down because I want to remember, and because Mom wants to know what I’m up to.

Esther with birthday bouquet. Photo credit Ryan Bruels

It is so much fun to be having Birthday Week with Esther again. I can hardly believe it’s half over already. It’s been full of good conversation, good food experiences, and good outings to new-to-me places and a few familiar ones.

It has been cloudy, cool and wet, but isn’t that pretty much what we should expect in Seattle this time of year? I’m pretty sure the noise I hear in my bedroom, like dripping water, is dripping water. When it rains at night, something is happening in the nearby downspout, but I have already gotten used to it.

One of many interesting gardens

The flowering trees are blooming and gardens are showing off as we hike around West Seattle. This is such a visually beautiful area – Puget Sound, the Olympic Mountains, old forests, Alki Beach. There is an unforgettable view in every direction and I wish I could let you see what I see. But pictures will have to do. Esther and I walked over 4 miles on Wednesday, half along the West Seattle shore, half down the main business street.

Ornamental cherry trees out do themselves with blooms!

On Thursday we met some of Esther and Ryan’s friends, and my nephew Jon at a specialty ice cream shop. It was a birthday treat for Esther, and a treat for all of us too. Thank you, Jon. (He bought.)

Jon and his rather conservative Irish Cream coffee
Esther and I had these. They hang the ice cream half off the side on purpose.
They toasted marshmallows, in place, with a torch!

Today, Friday, Esther and I joined with some others to do forest clean-up in a local park. It’s one of Esther’s favorite community service opportunities and a great way to meet people and be active. We pulled up a large area of English Ivy, which is an invasive plant here. The challenge was to not fall down the steep inclines when the vines gave way. This volunteer project was started during the Covid lockdowns and has resulted in many hours of work donated all over West Seattle. I’m a little sore now, but it was fun.

A very overgrown, underdeveloped side of West Seattle that really needed attention.
Friendly, hard working volunteers who do this kind of thing several times a week.

Esther and I, and Nina the greyhound, also took a walk in Schmitz Park, right behind Esther’s house. It’s been one of my favorite places since the first time I came here, and the only place I’ve ever seen Skunk Cabbage. Old growth redwoods, little creeks, all kinds of plants along these trails that lead up a deep ravine to the top of a bluff. Such an interesting place!

Unusually large leaves, bright yellow flowers, and I guess it sometimes smells bad. I didn’t smell anything.

These are some of the fun outings I’ve had so far. But there are four days left and we’ve got a really different, kind of crazy activity coming up tomorrow. Can’t wait.

Going West

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Written because I want to remember it, and because Mom wants to know what I’m doing…

For the first time in many years, my daughter Esther and I are spending birthday week together. Yesterday was her birthday and my travel day. I boarded a plane and flew west to Seattle.

Trepidation. A nice, interesting word with a good compliment of letters in it. I like long words when I am still able to pronounce them easily. I had some trepidation preceding this journey. It’s been a while since I went anywhere by plane and I was expecting that changes might have taken place in the system. Airports are complicated places. And even before that, there was the job of getting to the airport and parking.

It was good to start the trip with something familiar. I love my car and know how to use GPS to get places, so the only thing “trepidating” (trepidicious?) about the drive to Minneapolis was the freezing rain and snow that started in the first 20 miles and only got worse as I went south. I was very relieved to pull into the remote parking garage where my reservation barcode actually worked and opened the gate.

I found a space and was just making sure I was lined up right in it when I saw the shuttle already waiting behind me. The driver had followed me in. I quickly got out, pulled my suitcase and backpack out of the back seat and got in the shuttle. I didn’t remember locking the car, so was searching in my purse for my key while we wound our way out of the garage. That’s probably why I thought about looking for my phone.

My phone was back in the car, still connected to the console.

We were only just out on the street when I freaked out and started apologizing and telling the driver I would run back and get it. But he went around the block and returned, acting kind of like this sort of thing had happened before. The other passengers didn’t seem to mind and maybe even were amused. So started the trip.

MSP airport was as confusing as ever. I’ve flown out of it many times but it has gotten bigger and bigger, and I didn’t recognize most of it. The signage is less than helpful. Mostly, I just followed the biggest crowd I could find and hoped for the best.

Getting through security was not a lot different. All they asked for was my ID, and nothing in my baggage or on my person set off any alarms. That whole process only took about 20 minutes and I was soon sitting at my gate. I had two whole hours to watch the energetic, screeching children who had also arrived early, and their parents who thought they were funny, and the lady with the dog who was also dealing with some trepidation.

Not much to report about the flight itself, except that the entertainment system cut out half way through the movie I tried to watch. They had warned us this might happen. I also missed the garbage bag when the attendant came by to collect our drink cups. I had to scrape all the ice I dropped out of the way and under my chair where it could safely melt. I was beginning to feel like an old lady, forgetful, slightly incompetent. No one seemed to mind.

Three hours later I was racking up steps in the Seattle airport, and texting my people to come pick me up. They were waiting in the cell phone lot so it didn’t take long, and we were on our way to Esther’s birthday dinner at Cedarbrook Lodge.

Esther’s longtime friend, Duncan, was running the bar there and gave us special attention, the whole time we were there. I learned that NA (nonalcoholic) beverages are the latest trend there and enable cocktails with no alcohol to now be as expensive as those with alcohol. I also learned that Sablefish is another word for cod, but it definitely needed a new word since it was being served in an upscale restaurant. As promised, dinner was a quintessential Northwest experience in dining. I especially like my spatzle, foraged mushrooms, butter roasted onions, preserved lemon and evergreen oil side dish. It was good to talk with my kids and relax over an interesting meal. I only spilled one glass of water and it was just what we needed to liven things up a bit.

Back at Esther’s house we finished off the day with a good walk along the beach. Ryan had Nina on leash so it was a walk/drag for him and he turned back early. Conversation in the living room, and then the evening ended around 12 for me, still on central time. I settled into my charming bedroom for sleep, and only awakened a couple of times, hearing that faint noise like a ticking clock or drops of water falling on metal.

I wonder what that was?

At Cedarbrook Lodge. My people, still happy.

Set Me Free

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This year has brought a lot of new situations into my life. And, of course, changes have come with them. I have had to change many things, especially the expectations I have about myself, my work, and my purpose. It’s been a bit of a free fall. When I first started feeling restless, unmotivated, stuck, apprehensive, and frustrated, those adjectives were just on the edges of life. In the center there was always a lot of routine activity. There were distractions of all kinds. There were people to help, events to attend, all of it pointing to getting back to being my former self.  Until things got quiet.

I think it was easy to divide life into before and after the death of my husband, and to think that I would get back to being my usual self, whoever that was.  Now that some time has passed, I’m starting to view it differently. My life is more like an ever changing timeline. Dennis’s death was a significant event on the timeline, that is true, but there were other events as well, and change came with each of them. 

Getting right to the freedom part, I made a decision this week that started this whole chain of thought. Here is what happened. 

 I like to call myself a writer, but who am I kidding if I don’t write? For over ten years now I have managed to do a blogging challenge, the April A to Z.  At first I filled the 26 days of the month with random posts. Later I started picking themes because it was easier and more interesting. The last couple of years I’ve struggled to find new themes that sparked creativity, but still managed come up with something. Last year I did character sketches, based on real people I’ve known but fictionalized. This year I thought I might work on putting those people in plots. I told myself that doing this challenge was important to me and made me a better writer.

I got a few stories done, and then I hit a wall.  Nothing was coming together. I was avoiding writing any way I could, and feeling ashamed about it at the same time. I felt like I had to do it, because I had done it for so many years. This self imposed mandate was sucking all the fun out of my days. So I set myself free. What a relief. 

I don’t have to join the challenge. I don’t have to follow a theme. I can forget about the alphabet if I want to. I don’t even have to write anything this coming month at all. It feels pretty good to rebel against some kinds of restrictions. So much so, that I’ve been looking around for other things that I don’t need to do, things that I have bound myself to that might be up for re-evaluation. 

What will my summer be like if I don’t put in a garden? What will my files look like if I clean out some of the trivia? Is it time to let go of my high school and college cheerleading letters? How will it change my relationship with my mom if I’m more of a friend and less of a caregiver?  How might it feel if life is simpler, less burdened?

This thought train has just started to pick up steam. At this stage in my life there are compelling reasons to think about lightening the load, letting go of things, and throwing off chains. Of finding new freedom.  

And what things would God have me do with the new freedoms that have come my way?

What have you been freed from recently? Join the conversation – I would love to hear your thoughts. 

Still have them, but their days are numbered. Go team, go!