Today I miss my daughters. It's raining here. My feet are stiff and there's a dull ache in the top of my back. I peer out the window at the tiny raindrops that landed on the glass. Slowly two small beads of rain slide down the glass as I just stare in a daze, remembering my daughter telling me once that in the car on drives to the Carolinas, she would watch two raindrops slide down the glass as we drove and pretend they were racing. I used to play in the rain with soap with my girls. Outside we would go, lathered up and dancing in the rain wild and free feeling it pelting against our warm flesh. We would laugh and sing and stomp in the mud with bare feet, burying our toes in the sandy soil. It was so much fun. To me the best part was coming in and peeling off soaking wet garments, usually a slip or simple dress. We would wrap ourselves in warm soft towels and feel fresh and dry. My oldest would act like a wild bird....
God, I am so thankful for all the blessings in my life. I'm thankful to wake up and feel the breeze brushing my skin and the warm caressing of the sunshine on my face. I appreciate the opportunities this day has brought me. I will try my best to not dwell on one hurtful thing or one physical discomfort, but leave it to you to handle in your own time. Please God be with my children and loved ones. Let them feel my heart and know my love for them. Be with the people that are harder to love, or don't love me. They are probably hurting Lord, and are the ones that need to be loved the most. Amen P.S. I sure would like a little fiest dog. A small to medium size mutt. Something that feels thrown away and needs to be nurtured. Ebenezer Rouge needs a new friend.
Somewhere in one of my books, probably in a box, is an old pressed rose. Maybe two pressed roses. They are from Damon and I saved them all this time. I wonder how many people still press a flower in a book for sentimental reasons. I also have an old scrapbook with a pressed boutonniere, and small corsage from a time of promise and possibilities. A time when everything was new and the possibilities for the future were endless. I suddenly wish I could see it, and gently rub my finger across the weathered, dry petals. That velvety smoothness of days long ago now, that seem like yesterday or maybe the day before. I'm not living in the past. I'm longing for the happiness those days brought me. I'm no longer longing for people and things unattainable, but for the joy of that era. I long for love and happiness. I long for a peace of just knowing there's someone and something I can count on just being. That source of ...
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