Sixteen days until Spring, right? The yearly yearn.
March has two full moons, one in the beginning, one at the end...it's one of the longer months, and it needs to be; after all, it takes time for the worm to turn. Is that why it's called the worm moon?
On Friday, March 2nd, four of us traveled out to Womelsdorf for a quiet closure ceremony. Mike's mother lived a quiet, gentle life and she didn't want anything complicated. I imagine that she would have felt sorry for us, gathered in a cemetery in the weather we had on Friday, and grateful it was just the four of us! Actually, we got lucky: it stopped raining for a bit. That was nice. She was always so considerate.
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The fact that we can lose someone, and then life goes on, is a scarring gift. Our niece leaves tomorrow, but she will be back soon, vowing to stay in close touch with her grandfather, and she may not come alone, next time. My father-in-law must now go through a big transition, which will happen as it does, only time will tell.
One day follows another, we continue to make plans, set our goals, try to stay well. And enjoy today, especially that.
I love listening to Moth Radio Hour while I knit. Currently, I'm working on a scarf in double-seed stitch. It takes me so long to catch on to anything like that, that I'll become a bit fixated, for awhile. Honestly, it's good for me, because I have to pay attention. It's almost meditative. Also, I'm trying to learn how to race-walk. It's surprisingly hard, and half the time, I'm pretty sure that I'm actually sort of jogging with a seriously weird gait. In an actual race walking event, it's illegal to ever have both feet off the ground--they call that flying, and if you get caught a certain number of times, you're disqualified. I love that term--flying. Not accidentally jogging or running, or even traveling, but flying. Use that in a sentence: I was disqualified for flying (and no, I wasn't in the house).
Well, I need to stop yammering on for now. Mike and I actually have somewhere to go--more about that later.
Whatchaupto?
Mike's mom was so sweet, and as you say, gentle. You're spot on about her.
ReplyDeleteYes, life goes on. It seems wrong sometimes, but it has to.
You've written another lovely post.