Moving Forward

As I woke this morning, thoughts flooded my mind with the force of a tsunami. My brain seemed to be going through an exercise in free association with phrases and sentences coming at me from everywhere. I wondered if some kind of dam had broken inside me and this was my mind’s way of releasing the grief. Was it part of the healing process? I had prayed that the grief cycle would not take five years with Paul as it did with the loss of my first husband, Bob, thirteen years ago. Could the Lord be answering my prayer and speeding things up? I hope so.

Yesterday, I was pretty stern with myself when the denial came rushing in again. Accept it, Laura. He’s not coming back. And even if he could, why would he? He has seen the face of Jesus and experienced heaven. Would I? Of course not! And so I resolved once again to take one day at a time and move in the right direction - forward.

My sweet little cat, Callie Marie, is finally beginning to return to normal. How it pained me the first night after I returned home following  the service in Louisville when I watched her searching for him. She walked from one side of the bed to the other, trying to find him.  She sniffed between the mattress and headboard. She made the journey repeatedly across the area rug on his side of the bed,  trying to detect his scent. My heart wanted to break for both of us.

On the last few mornings, Callie has returned to being excited about her Fancy Feast ® and once more she is putting her tail in the air when she walks, demonstrating that she is adjusting and feels better. Callie is processing her loss – and so must I - particularly with the official release of my newest children's book, Catie’s Secret, on November 5.

I am convinced I must do what is necessary for the successful launch of my book, in spite of this sad and unwelcome event in my life. Paul was my most enthusiastic cheerleader and often would tell me how proud he was to be “married to an author".  I know he would encourage me to move on with my books and I can almost hear him cheering me on from the halls of heaven.

   

So I will move forward with God's help and continue to pray that this time I will pass through grief faster than before. After all, there are children waiting for more God’s Secret Garden Adventures.  

            ©2013 Laura Allen Nonemaker    All rights reserved

A Fragrant Remembrance

It was a cold day in December. I shivered as I came up the walk, eagerly anticipating the warmth of a hot cup of tea. A package was waiting for me on the doorstep and I quickly scooped it up and let myself in.

I removed my coat and put on the kettle, wondering if this might be an early Christmas gift. I carefully opened the box, allowing a delicious, sweet aroma to escape into the air. Nestled in the tissue paper was a scented candle shaped like a small cake. A letter was enclosed. Congratulations! You are the winner of a fine Country Cottage Candle. Thank you for visiting our booth at the Glendale Crossing Festival. Immediately, my thoughts traveled back to an unforgettable Saturday that previous October.

My husband, Bob, and I had left early that Saturday on our annual excursion to the Glendale Crossing Festival in that small town south of Louisville, Kentucky. We parked at the top of Main Street and took a hurried shortcut through some neighborhood yards, impatient to begin our “treasure hunt”.

The crisp air was invigorating and a pageant of fall color spread out around us. The view from the top of the hill was like a Grandma Moses painting, with hundreds of colorful booths dotting the streets and spilling into adjoining fields and parking lots. On our way down the hill, we stopped at a booth that featured country craft items. There was a raffle for a candle called “Grandma’s Shortcake” that smelled heavenly. I seldom win anything, but it was free to enter, so I dropped my name and address in the box and we moved on.

Gift ideas abounded as we marveled at the variety of crafts and gadgets for sale. Did we know anyone who might like a faucet that seemingly poured water from mid-air into a big barrel? Who would appreciate that unusual garden creature fashioned from salvaged parts? Even though a steady drizzle had begun, it could not dampen our enthusiasm. We were determined to make the most of our special day together.

After selling our business of 18 years, Bob and I had made a commitment to take time to “stop and smell the roses.” It was even more important after our dreaded nemesis, cancer, renewed its attack on Bob. From previous experience, we knew the power of God to heal and our faith and trust were steady. At the same time, we realized that the passing moments of that October day contained gifts for us to treasure, such as…

        

sitting side by side on a bale of hay, while eating chili and cornbread…

savoring the tantalizing aroma of fried apple pies...

purchasing an antique picture frame that Bob had noticed me admiring…

feeling like kids again…

the gentleness and goodness of the day.

The whistle of the kettle jolted me from my reverie. I turned off the stove and lit the candle. Gazing at its hypnotic flicker, I mused about the way our lives are as tenuous as that flame. Bob was admitted to the hospital two days after the Glendale Crossing Festival. He went to heaven a short while after that. How grateful I am that we decided to treasure the present moments and how like my Father to send me a fragrant remembrance of that special October day.

                                                                                    
                                                                                  ~  Laura Allen Nonemaker