Making memories one day at a time.......and then I write about it.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Gratitude for Aspens

Dear Mamma,

I know.  I've not been writing again which sets you to worrying.  I keep thinking that tomorrow I'll feel better and I'll write a fabulous blog post to let you know that I'm up and at em' and all is well. 

I'm like a wood chuck.  I pop out of my hole and make a peep here and there when needed but quickly dive back down into my hole before some irritated hunter comes along and blows out my brains. 

I'm sitting here in my recliner looking out the window.  It is grey and overcast again.  The wind is blowing.  I can see the Aspen trees dancing in the wind, their leaves like spinnerets on a tambourine.  They remind me of the Aspen trees we had back of the property around the pond growing up.  I used to love to sit and watch them as a child.  They looked like gold coins to me as the sun would catch them fluttering in the breeze. 

The branches made perfect bows and arrows for playing cowboys and indians.  I wonder how many of those poor branches we cut off making our weapons.  When we'd peel off the bark, it would feel so smooth and slippery underneath, the wood a pretty off white.

We tried attaching chicken feathers to our arrows.  We weren't so good at it.  I suppose since we really were aiming at each other, it was a good thing our arrows never flew straight. 

I planted these Aspen trees in my yard because I remembered enjoying watching them so much growing up and listening to their music.  When I planted them, I had no idea that the future would hold many hours with me laying here, watching my trees out the window.   I'd say that was a tender mercy don't you?

So, don't get to worrying about me momma.  Even when I'm down, I'm not down.  I'm surrounded by too many things to be grateful for.



  1. i tell you what rach. you are inspiring. like an aspen tree.

  2. I remember the first time experiencing a can-only-lie-on-the-couch illness that lasted for a span of weeks. I remember obssessing over the idea of learning how to knit. I was certain that knitting would be a lovely way to pass the time during illness. Many years later, suffering another bout of too-sick-to-function that spanned many weeks, I made a disturbing discovery: When I'm sick, I'm SICK. As in I can't do anything but gaze at the trees (or fields) SICK. That was a crushing revelation. But you, YOU are not crushed! You are still finding joy in the blessings surrounding you.

    I am so happy that you have the trees to soothe you. A beautiful image.

    Sending healing thoughts your way...

  3. So glad to have you remind us to count our blessings!

  4. I love that you planted your Aspen trees because of the warmth of memory that they stir for you and that watching them from your window while you're laid up soothes your soul a little. Love and strength is wished your way, Jx

  5. :( sniffle. I'm right with ya! Glad you have the strength and will to post. I wish our couches were closer. We seem to be on the same schedule. :) I am sure though those trees are much nicer to look at. Hee Hee At least they are being showered with rain. I forgot what my shower looks like. HAHAHA. Okay, hope I made you smile. You're wonderful. God loves you. And so do I.

  6. I'm sorry you don't feel well.

    I was down with a horrible stomach bug earlier this week and as I cried in bed because I felt so bad, I thought of people who feel bad all the time, and I counted my blessings.

    I hope you feel better again. I shall remember you in my prayers.

    Quaking Aspens are my favorite tree of all.

  7. Misty, It depends on who you talk to if that is a compliment. :D The SM can't stand our Aspen trees and I don't blame him. They are notorious for sending shoots out into your yard making it a mess.

    Wabi, That honestly is one of the hardest parts about this. There are days, weeks, when all I can do is just lay there. Even lifting my hands to try and knit is too much. And sometimes, I might have the strength to lift my hands to knit but my brain is so foggy I can't concentrate to make anything out so knitting and reading are out of the question. My vision gets blurry as well. Very hard to focus.

    Honestly, I have much to be grateful for. Sometimes I do get down but it doesn't last long. How can it when I am so greatly blessed....

    Chastina, Oh my heavens! My neighbor is down in Ghana right now without water and power. I've NOTHING to complain about. :D

    Julie, Another bit of nastalgia for your nastalgia post. I hadn't planned it that way but it fits. :D

    Jody, You always make me smile. In a good way. I wish our couches were closer too. Think of all the trouble we could get into and our men having to put things to right. Sounds quite exciting to me!!

    Anaise, The stomach bug is the worst. Well, no, a migraine is but the stomach bug is right next to it. Especially if you are hurling your toe nails while at it. I'm glad you are feeling better. When we're sick, it makes the recovery all the better because we miss being well. Happy is the day when we bounce out of bed all put to right again. Okay, maybe bouncing out of bed at this stage in life is a bit of a stretch but you know what I mean. :D

  8. I love you, Weitzer! You are a blessing to your family, too all of us. I love you.

  9. Leanna, LOL! Another memory I'll never forget. You singing that song to me over and over! Little did I know that as I got older, it would become true!!! I love you too.

  10. That is one thing I love about you, in the midst of chaos and storm you find the one calming thing of beauty. Cling to it, my friend until the storm passes.

  11. Nat, Does that make me a Klingon? :D

  12. No, no Klingon. Because if my Star Trek memory serves me right (which it probably won't) Klingons had those ugly reddish-brown faces, with the funky thing-a-ma-bob on the bridge of their noses that are reminiscent of a dinosaur. That is in no way you. Nope, no dinosaur face for you, gorgeous girlie. :)

  13. Nat, Are you sure?? Cuz most days I sure feel like a dinosaur! :D

  14. A beautiful piece of writing, Sugar. I feel the same way about the trees. But more than that, you actually do give your mama a great gift, a poetic gift of love, framing your memory with such sweetness and power. And your grandchildren will read it. And they will know a great deal about you. That is the heart of real writing, that you give yourself in the words.


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