Java thoughts

…it’s been a bit since I put my thoughts to print so here I sit sipping on java juice thick in my lament. Over the past few years I’ve experienced change on enormously monolithical levels of the good and the incredibly not so good. You are my readers so of course this fact is quite known. I’ve lost a great Aunt, my husband, my mentor and grandmother, Kermit (the best dog ever) and then I watched with teary eyes my heart fly across the country to start a new life in the west while I subsist on technology to ease the heavy pain in my chest. Yes, Facetiming with my boy Isaac Charles is being put to an amazingly challenging test. So, it is with rusty fingers I once more pick up my pen and transcribe these thoughts I think…

The summer is with me now and I’m nearly always surrounded by memories of mental imprints and aspirations of future hopes and for the most part, I’m content and only occasionally get lost in regret. Regret is interesting. Is it more the yearning of what I never got done or is it just my procrastinating mind poking at me in fun? I don’t know so I’ll leave it alone and cling to my “contentness” while revelling in the awareness of the everlasting and unabandoning sun.

I’ve left you with my grandmother’s story and the tale of who I use to be so I best to get going because you all need to know what happened and why I am me. If I don’t get things written and expressed to the world I’ll fade away one day without ever sharing what longs to be revealed and eagerly told.

Grandma has been gone a good year now but I feel her still because she’s definitely hovering around. Of course she is; she’s part of me, the best part I’ve found. When I think of my childhood I become transformed and sent back into time to places and events that have texture, scents and crystal clear sounds. Getting fresh picked corn and tomatoes with grandma at the farm stand feels like yesterday and I can actually taste the sweetness of the tomato grandma gave me wrapped in a napkin. She left me sitting on the porch eating while she prepared our supper inside. Grandpa was still working then and even my Uncle Gene was still living at home so those summer meals together were so vastly precious and even at my young age of ~8 I appreciated the togetherness of the time.

Ok, I’ll end here but only for a short spell which I promise to you reader. To be continued…