Goodbye Old Friends

This week has been hard, emotionally and physically. I recently had knee surgery and relearning how to walk after reconstruction. This on top of learning of two friends dying within days is too much.

The one friend, her and I have been friends since high school (late 1970’s). Sadly, her admittance to the hospital came after taking a dosage of medicine after hearing her husband tell her that he found another woman. This state in her body led to further complications, a medical induced-coma and death. My friend is gone. I can only imagine the anger felt by her family toward this husband of hers that is taking place, as I feel the same. Too many struggles in this marriage and now this. Just sad.

The other, was a guy I had a crush on since fifth grade. Later in high school and after we we graduated, we dated off and on. I loved him and his family but life took us different directions. This one hurt. Always a dream of us later in life reconnecting. That dream has vanished. There is still a love and connection, which now holds only memories.

Perhaps the physical pain but also feeling my age through it all and many as we age passing, grief becomes real and reality sets in with each one, knowing my time is nearing.

Enjoy life. Grief comes to us all in deaths or loss of a relationship for whatever reason. Grief is grief. Acknowledge, cry, wipe the tears and cherish the memories. We all go through this. We all will get through this.

Sisters, But Strangers

I find myself boggled more and more, in my senior years, realizing my sister and I are so different. Yes, we are all unique, made in the image of God. The love of family members is there but our uniqueness is chaotic to me. Perhaps, because I am the youngest, just odd, her feeling I am still a child, her baby sister. Perhaps, I trust myself more and know who I am. Just because she is older and perhaps wiser, I also am.

Months ago I wrote a short blog-like story on my Facebook page. It was on the serious side of me but encouragement for others to know they can face tomorrow, as storms in life come. In my brief testimony, my sister could not understand it and worried about me, making an opportunity to visit to see if I was okay. To her surprise, as I knew myself, I am fine and happier than I have been in many years. While trying to explain, she could not grasp but thought the worse.

I realized she can handle joking about my struggles but not the seriousness. How sad is that? So with her, I put my seriousness aside and not being the true me. She does not know me. She thinks she does though. Sadly, years ago, I felt closer to my counselor for this very reason, as she heard me, she knew me more. The depth of my seriousness and even my silly, fun personality, I could be me.

Again, last night, a discussion that reminded me that we are sisters but strangers. This will never change.

Sisterly love I believe it’s called, I guess.

Beans & Cornbread

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It is funny how the titles come to me that take me back to years ago. The good ole beans and cornbread, probably quite the dinner bowl in the southern parts of the states. I was raised with them but now rarely make them, although I do enjoy when I do make or eat them.

Back when I was dating my husband, I was questioning everything and the pros and the cons. Should I marry him? There was a hesitancy, but he truly treated me well, unlike other guys I dated. Of course, that surely had to be a sign from God. Right? Little things added up and some things did not but taking a step in marriage is a BIG STEP.

Since my mom always made beans and cornbread through the years to feed all the mouths in our family and company, I mentioned to her one evening that this man I was dating, now for years, loves beans and cornbread. Her advice was that if I can find a man who loves beans and cornbread, he is a winner. Well, I married him.

Then I realized that I made beans and cornbread quite often, to the point I hated them, which is one reason today that I do not make them. It has been years. I can make a good pot of beans, or I used to. Cornbread was not bad either, especially fried. At one point in my small family, I cooked and baked quite a bit. Now things look different in my home, with the boys on their own and my husband living with his mother, caring for her. So, the beans and cornbread, never simmer or are enjoyed but they have been on my mind, which is why I am writing. Maybe for old-time sake, I should make a pot. Maybe tomorrow, maybe not.

Let me know if you have had or enjoy beans and cornbread. Country cooking at its finest.