I look across at your house and see shadows of the trees dancing in the sunlight and I’m reminded of our porch dances.
You’d sway to the rhythm of your own music and smile impishly. Even though I was across the yard looking through my window I knew there was a twinkle in your eye.
As you twirled under the porch light, I waved and danced along with you wishing we could stay like this forever; a happy moment suspended in time.
I loved when you danced because that meant you were happy. You were so full of life and even when the Alzheimer’s was robbing you of so much you still had a passion for living.
I’ll never forget the time you told me about your dancing skirt. It was denim with several gores; it came down almost to your ankles and it had a nice twirl. I came over one day and you had it on. You told me that when you put it on it made you dance. That skirt is long gone but I hope it is making someone else dance.
Today is a day to remember. You’ve been gone two years and I miss you so much, but when I think of you dancing in heaven it brings me peace because I know how happy you are in the arms of Jesus.
I hope there is a porch in heaven so that someday soon we can dance again.
Let them praise His name with dancing….Psalm 149:3
As I walked in from the laundry, I caught a glimpse of the picture of the old bearded gentlemen praying over his bowl of soup. And for a fleeting moment I wanted to call you to tell you that after several months of not having a home he finally has a place on the wall in my kitchen. Right above the bench I purchased when I worked for a garden furniture company.
You remember how he always hung above Grandma’s little kitchen table as if he were watching over and praying for all of us. I never thought about that picture much as a child. I just knew it was there. It was a constant just like Grandma and You. I don’t remember exactly when you gave it to me but I’ve always cherished it. Now that it has a home again in my kitchen it feels right.
I look at it and memories are suspended in time, memories that connect the three of us. The bitter sweetness of it all washes over me. I sigh wishing for just a spot of time for the three of us to sit around that little table sharing doughnuts smothered with grape jelly and laughing at something nonsensical that no one else would understand.
I’m hoping that God has a little table reserved for us in heaven with doughnuts and grape jelly.
♥
Well, it has been a while hasn’t it? This is my first post in over a year. Today is the first in a long time that I have wanted to sit down and write. You never know what will cause the spark. I had just put a load in the dryer and was returning to the kitchen to finish the dishes I had started when I caught a glimpse of the picture. It gave me an odd sense of joy and melancholoy at the same time and for a brief moment I thought I should talk to Mom. But of course in such moments I immediately remember that I can’t. So, sometimes I talk to her in written form. I also did this a few weeks ago when I was sitting at my work table and happend to look out the window and across the yard at her home. I was prompted to write a note then on some scrap paper so I wouldn’t forget the thought. Someday soon I’ll share that with you too.
My family is important to me and I was very close to both my mom and my grandmother. The picture was my grandmother’s given to me by my mom when grandma passed away. I remember sitting at that table many times when I stayed with grandma. She loved to put jelly on her doughnuts.
I don’t know what sharing this with you today means, but maybe it means I’m ready to write again. For so long I have felt blocked and couldn’t find the joy in sharing words with you. I would think of things and even “write” them in my head but didn’t put pen to paper or pursue them. I just wasn’t ready for some reason. I think I felt lost and couldn’t find my sense of place. I know I’ve needed to grieve and heal. Life, of course, has it’s ups and downs for all of us and we have different seasons that shape us. Sometimes a hard season or two can cause us to retreat. But, eventually if we hold on we see the light again and healing begins.
Thank you for reading,
Teresa
Grace be with you, mercy and peace, from God the Father, in truth and love. 2 John 3