Sunday, 28 February 2010 -- Day 70

I'm going to write in the morning today to look at the day w/ anticipation rather than reflection. This day certainly holds much promise w/ the sunshine, more humane temps, and no wind. Today I'm anticipating my birthday lunch w/ my husband and daughters. My birthday isn't until Wednesday, March 3rd, but on the Sunday before we go to the Dry Dock over at the lakes. So I anticipate a good meal on a sunny Sunday w/ my loving family beside a frozen lake where ice shacks sit like chess pieces and an old car waits for the spring thaw to make someone a lucky lottery winner. I anticipate a day of chipping away, not at the ice as I did yesterday, at some of those little jobs that were making me frustrated and overwhelmed two days ago.

My cousin from Colorado sent me some pictures that were taken in July of 1986 on a trip that my mom and dad had taken to visit Mom's brother and his family. At that time, Mom was 56 but she looked like she was 46. At that time in her life she was anticipating enjoying her grandchildren, returning to work in the school cafeteria, teaching her Sunday School class, and go to Texas the following year to watch me graduate from college. One picture shows Mom and her brother sitting on the floor on either side of the chair occupied by their Aunt Maysie, who was my mother's mother's sister and who lived well into her 90's. Mom is leaning on the arm of the chair as if she had been anticipating hearing stories about her mother and grandparents. Her brother, Arthur, is leaning back looking over his shoulder and smiling at Aunt Maysie.

I guess at this point I should provide some background. Mom was born in Colorado in 1930, but in 1933 her mother was severely burned in a house fire and died a couple of weeks later. My mother and her infant sister, Irene, were taken by their father by train to Iowa to live w/ relatives. Arthur was left in Colorado w/ Aunt Maysie. When my grandfather returned to Colorado, Aunt Maysie had placed Arthur in an orphanage. For whatever reasons, the Depression, or being a new widower, or both, my grandfather left Arthur in the orphanage until he was old until to leave on his own. As I look now at this picture w/ the smile exchanged and the close proximity between Arthur and his aunt, the woman who sent him away, there is no animosity or vindictiveness. There probably was at some point; I think I recall Mom mentioning it. But at some point in the years b/w 1933 and 1986, they obviously reached an understanding and were able to move on to enjoy a bond that only family can truly share.

I guess today what I'm anticipating most is being able to move on: to remember, to honor, to accept, to keep a bond w/ my family, and to get past the dark days of grief.