O.k. call me strange. You have to be there I guess. It is so quiet, other than traffic on Hwy 41 that runs N to S of the cemetery but you forget the traffic and don't really hear it. Today there wasn't a soul around but me and Sarah.
And the dead people, as Sarah says. Probably more than a thousand of them lie there. I always tell her they won't bother us. I told her there are only boxes of bones now, that the dead people had gone back to God. It appears she is beginning to grasp that and acknowledged that they aren't really dead but she seems still think in terms that "the dead people are there." Must be a hard concept to grasp but with every walk she accompanies me on, I sense her adapting, little by little, to the idea that the graveyard is not a scary place and death is not a bad thing, only inevitable and that beyond it, there is more that is better. I think that for children, death seems to be an end and humans naturally fear being nonexistent. Yes, we do. Many adapt to the idea but as children, we're still in a natural state, uncorrupted by adult ideals. That concept of death is not natural to children.
Today we talked about how lovely it would be to have a picnic under the trees. She said, "Under those spooky trees over there?" It was grove of closely spaced trees at the far side of our walk. I looked and it was dark under those trees. I could see how, at six, in a park of dead people, they would appear spooky. "That is just a grove of old trees and it is really pretty. We could picnic there but I'd rather have a picnic over near Pawpaw's grave."
"I bet he'd want a sandwich."
"I think he's probably having dinner with God but I think he'd like for us to have a picnic near him."
"He could spend time with us. But I bet he'd like a bite of that sandwich."
"I bet he'd just like to spend time with us. He loved being with you."
Eventually, she'll grasp it and when she meets death, in whatever form, maybe she will be better able to deal with it than I am. I never learned that and the reality of death was terrifying when it stepped into my bedroom on a dark winter night. It still is.
The walk was done and we left to get her mom and take her by the bank. In the process, Becca had locked herself out of her apartment. So we spent an hour trying to get that resolved. Eventually, I left her on the steps waiting for someone to come unlock her doors. We had a nice chat during that time. I still love my daughter-in-law, well, my ex-daughter-in-law. I hope, for her and for Sarah, she'll do well and find her purpose. It may not include my son, but maybe it never did. We all take wrong turns now and then but the real trick is finding a path that will help us become better at who we were meant to be. If it was a wrong turn, I'm so thankful for the petite, blond bombshell that exploded into my life. And I'm thankful for the woman who has become like my daughter.
Today, pain is relative to what I'm doing. I'm truly thankful for that. At the moment, it is minor aches and pains when I get up or down. I'm trying once again, to eat less of what ails me. Inflammatory foods that tend to be the things I love. For days now I've been focusing on fruits, strawberries, blueberries, bananas, apples and oranges. I need Bing Cherries but they are hard to come by here. Of course, the citrus is considered inflammatory but I don't eat much. My real weakness is orange juice, which I could drink gallons of if it liked me. I've stuck with one in the mornings before work several days this week.
I bought cereal and put the fruit in it. Cereal is another inflammatory food, as is bread, rice, pasta, and any sugar but again, a cup of cereal is probably not going to hurt me. Much. Oh, and onion rings.... I'm still having flings with them. I don't think the onions are an issue but the fact that they are fired probably is. I've managed to stop using artificial sweeteners in my coffee. I buy liquid creamer from Kroger. It has sugar but the amount I use is minimal and only once a day. I've not taken the Doxepin in over a week either. My sleep hasn't suffered... if I'd go to bed at a reasonable time! And I'm now walking more. So we will see how this all plays out over time. My knees and hips do not care for the walk at all but I push forward, focusing instead on the scenery around me.
I'm writing and because I'm not as foggy at the moment, I'm more consistent with the time I give it. Writing 30 days in a row sets up a habit and it is actually harder to stop than keep it up. Speaking of which, I have to go and write now. I've got a couple of people saying I have to finish the Camp story and I agree. I still have no title. Very annoying, that. I suppose it will come to me. If you haven't read it and want to, the link is above. Feel free to give your comments. I will only leave it open until I finish it. I should set a goal for that or for closing it. Maybe October 31st. NaNoWriMo starts November 1st.
On contemplation, this is the most positive post I've done in ages. It would be nice if they could all sound like this. Of course, the paths we walk can't always been smooth and straight. Sometimes they wend themselves through flower-filled meadows, sometimes through gravestone-filled cemeteries. I guess learning to see beauty in the gravestones is the challenge.
Sounds like walking is doing good for you. I need to do it too.
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