It’s all there: the old family van, Mark is barefoot, Tim avoids the shot, and we are enjoying the warmth of St George in February as we did each President’s Day weekend. Good memories.
This is Rebecca’s house and it is also where Richard proposed. 🌹
Richard is on the 9th or 10th day of his bout with COVID-19. We don’t know where he was exposed. The illness has a new character each day, but his oxygen levels have been fine, so I am grateful for that. He has stayed isolated from us, and no one else at home has tested positive. The worry I have felt is a small thing compared to what others have gone through with this illness so I hesitate to even mention it. I will say that although Richard’s case can be termed as “mild” and he has not complained, this is a different kind of illness and unpleasant at best.
What is helping us get through quarantine? Entertainment. Empathy from an employee of the attendance office at the high school. Dedicated teachers who make education happen. Surprises left on our porch from friends. Sunsets. For me, it helps to have routines I can do without thinking and something to look forward to each day. On Tuesday, it was the arrival of our 2020 photo book. I wrote before that creating this album helped me see that 2020 was a great year for the Ross family. God gives us eyes to see sometimes.
Will she really be lost to us when she dies? I’m not talking about life after death, but my relationship with her. All my life, if I was lucky, I saw her once a year. Her influence wasn’t so weak as to only be there when we were together. It lived in memory, in letters I still keep, and in her uncanny ability to know when I needed something. Our understanding of one another grew as she revealed her generous nature. She pampered me in childhood, encouraged me as a teen, and mentored me as a young woman.
Wisdom in books and recipes and exchanged notes carried us through the turning point when I could be a help to her. She trusted me to write her story, to help her during an illness, and I sat with her as we drove away from her home for the last time.
Now she withdraws from us, settling into the idea of rest. My hope is that in death she’ll be restored to us more than she is now when I visit her, shrunken and white on her bed. I rouse her sometimes to say goodbye, but lately, I feel strength to let her rest, trusting that the quality of our relationship doesn’t depend upon a goodbye.
The words you speak become the house you live in. -Hafiz
This borrowed wisdom is what I have for today. ♥️
For many weeks, Paige and I have been helping my dad work on a big project for the family. He has typed a memoir of his childhood adventures in the rolling hills and rock formations near his home in Pittsburg, CA. Paige is illustrating the stories and I am editing and formatting the book. We are mailing a few stories each week to my siblings and their children, with the goal to print and bind a complete version by early April.
It reminds me of a project that I began in January 2020 to write memories of my childhood. I wrote about 15 or 20 pages before I set it aside. Living in close quarters during the past 10 months has made it a little harder to focus on writing. Plus, I struggle to define a work space. The desks are being used, the kitchen table must be cleared often, and I need extreme quiet. This project with my dad keeps some of my desire to write alive, and inspires me to pick up old projects and not find excuses to delay.
I am making a little progress on creating a portable workspace for myself. I need to be present a lot of the time, not hidden away in an office. So, my work world revolves around a book bag and lightweight storage containers more than a single desk.
Stephen King, in his book about writing, suggests a writer should not have a massive desk that dominates a room because writing is not the primary thing. Living with your family is more important. He thinks a smaller desk in a corner is best. 🙂
There are few dependable things right now, but if I had to choose one creation on which I could depend, it would be the sun. The sunsets this month have been glorious and encouraging.
We are working on home improvement projects this weekend. It’s a domino game: if we want to create a better home office, we need to schedule carpet installation before we move in the furniture. So, we need to finalize carpet choices, a process we began 1 1/2 years ago. When we shop for carpet, we remember we want a new medicine cabinet. As we look at medicine cabinets, we remember we really want to replace the bathroom sinks and one of the faucets. When we take down the old medicine cabinet, we realize we need to patch the walls. You know.
I guess that another thing on which we can depend is the avalanche effect of home improvement projects.
The hope of the righteous shall be gladness.
Proverbs 10:28
We made this video eleven years ago, and I’m so glad that we did the work. I blinked, and the kids were too old to do things like this, so I am grateful for record. Hope fuels so much of parenting, and when you’re in the middle of it, you can’t always see the wonder happening in front of you.
There are some things for which we should just leap for joy. (Tim did a leap picture, too, but I promised not to share it. But trust me, it’s adorable.)
The end of the Virginia Reel, August 2019 with my nieces and nephews