This is For Becky

So Becky keeps nagging me to post pictures on the blog- so here it is.

This is the hydrenga peeking out for spring.

So today is Easter. A day of rebirth and renewal. As I look out the window by our desk I can see the world emerging from the dismal depths of winter. The trees and hydrangeas are sprouting green leaves, the daffodils, and hyacinth are at full bloom. And as I see these forbearers of the glory of spring and summer- hope grows and blossoms as well.

Not long ago my sisters and I lived through a difficult and painful week. We met with my mother in a safe and caring environment. We needed to tell her we loved her- but we also needed some sign of sorrow, or anguish- remorse or guilt for the pain, abuse and neglect of the past. And not too surprisingly none was forth coming. All we received was denial, further abuse, and anger. It was painful beyond any emotional pain I could describe. Not only were we remembering things long in the past and gut wrenching to discuss- but these tender vulnerable children were then abused again. It made the decision clear for me that my sisters were right and it was time to end our relationship with our mother. I sorrow for the loss of my mother. I know if she is well she is welcome to return to our lives. But I can't picture that. My mother has never been truly well in my lifetime. I don't know what that will look like.

And then at the end of the week the last lecture I attended was one on grief. It was uplifting and hopeful. The counselor pointed out that we not only have to mourn for death, or the loss of a place- me must also mourn our lost childhood if we want to live our lives with out anger or sorrow. And so I saw hope for the future. I know how to sorrow- I know how to grieve. I just have never grieved for my childhood. But I could see that I could find peace by embracing my grief, experiencing it and coming out the other side cleansed and renewed. Like spring returning to a barren frozen earth.

And then a few days after I returned I sang in the stake choral celebration of Easter. We sang an old French carol entitled Love is Come Again. I had sang this song many times in rehearsal- and yet not until the performance did the words really touch my soul.

Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
Thy touch can call us back to life again,
Fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green;
like wheat that springeth green.

(this is not a great recording but the only one I could find)

And so this Easter morn, I feel the hope that was heralded by Christ rising from the tomb. The knowledge that he felt all our pain as he knelt in the Garden of Gethsemane. That He knows my pain, that I may turn it over to Him and feel the peace available to me through faith in the Atonement.

So this Easter morn I feel hope. I know that I am like the hydrangea bush by our front door sprouting green leaves- preparing for the glory of the summer. So to am I grieving for the past preparing for the glory of the future.

I lightened things up for spring.
And look over there>>>>
Well a little lower over there>>
I finally made a list of crafts to finish.
And I finished some.

So I am home with my boys.
I love being home with my boys.
Coen sat on my lap like a little baby for the entire Sacrament meeting.
I love being home.
I have so many thoughts to share.
But I also have one of the biggest RS events in two days.
So tomorrow I hit the ground running.


But bug me to share some of my insights- they are great.

It has been worse than imagined-
And yet just what I expect of her.

Unbearable pain.
And maybe a little relief-
And gratitude for hugs from loving strangers - even the support from the grumpy silent one.
And extreme gratitude for loving sisters- thankful for the depth of love that is in my life.

And yet- full of sorrow and pain and sorrow and hope that I can let it go.
that I can leave it here in the desert with the cactus and the jack rabbits...
and go home and hold my life- my husband the boys- the life of love that I am building...
and I will hold it close- and bury myself in their love.
Go home where I am safe and loved.

Pain, Lots of Pain

So we are here-
some of you know where here is
here is a lot of pain- a lot of pain
here is fear
here is hate and anger and some more hate
here is a wish for hope- but just hopelessness

Here is furrowing the past turning over the dry arid burried pain to reveal deep wet painful wounds, tilling the pain and sorrow of the past I had let lay fallow and I am not fully ready to plow into.

Here is hell.

Clove Preschool

This fall when it was time to send Coen to preschool- I just couldn't do it. I couldn't wrap my mind around spending money to send him away from me. We were attending music class and story time at the library every week- and the group of mothers I hang with met fairly often to let the kids run around like monkeys. So I didn't do it. And I am glad I didn't.

But... He has started to need a little more structure. So we have started a preschool here at home. Mostly ideas from different blogs and websites and mixed together to meet Coen's and my interests. Beckett plays along to.

Next month with be science and nature oriented. This is mostly to meet Coen's ever growing demand to have the natural world explained to him (or to explain it to me). "Look Mom- the sun is shining down and the rain came down and now our flowers are growing!" Was his explanation when the daffodils started growing. So we are going to make a home for worms, and do nature walks, and grow some grass- let me know if you have any other ideas for us. We will also continue our many hours spent discussing the anatomy of the human body. I have some pretty detailed flask cards (for my use) that Coen loves to go through. "Mom what does an ovary do?" In fact yesterday I was explaining that we don't touch other peoples private areas- then I had to explain what private areas were- and he interjected "And your egg-maker is private too!" Yes Coen I rarely let others touch my ovaries.

Here is our learning board- I am needing to make it a little more sticky because the things fall off too easy.

Coen gets the concepts, and vocab, and numbers and Beckett is getting the letters. Coen isn't really into the letters. But we keep trying. I was pleased when I gave him a hand out that was a little too advanced and explained that the apples with big As should be red and the ones with little ones yellow. He isn't great at coloring- or following instructions so imagine my surprise when I came back and he had done it just perfectly! Every week we work and a different set of concepts and go to the library to get books related to the subject.

So far it is going great- but I need a ton of supplies. I am picturing a shoe holder hanging off the back of our hall closet door full of any supplies needed for projects we come up with so i don't have to keep going to the store every week. Sadly so far I have not seen one of those shoe thingys at the dollar store.