It's a rainy grey day here in mid-Missouri; the Bradbury pear tree (I've been calling them the Ray Bradbury pear trees absentmindedly!:) will be stripped of the white petals which were snowflake floating yesterday. The false indigo needs this rain, though, so it'll swirl upwards-blue soon! Hallelujiah!
Here at school, we pretended we were on the German immigrant boat, passing time away, with gram and gramps by making ye old paperschnitts while waiting for the new land, America! Our paperschnitts were blocky and kooky and made us laugh, particularly Cody's dancing hawks.
The homeschool day has gone better than expected, given last night's feeling of so much wanting to haul him out to the old yellow bus stop to wave goodbye and not hear "Mom?" all day long again. Yesterday, I wanted to be in my sixties instead of in my younger maternal years which still asks me to pull out rolls of patience and guidance and love. Yaiiii! Will I make it to 60?
Support is needed, for sure.
This morning, I did roll out of bed at 4:30 to throw hair in a ponytail and drive across town to my friend's house. She had cinnamon rolls, coffee, and fruit to make the hour seem brunchish instead of dawnish. Then, we attempted that other a- word: accountability. How can we support one another? How can we strip off masks and tell what we did the night before which we're ashamed of? How can we seek God individually in a way that is authentic and necessary? The questions seem urgent to me lately. Family life strains. Deadening of feel. Desire of reignition.
The rain keeps going, and so must I be mindful of the requirements of roots.