This picture was taken at our campsite in the Gaspe Peninsula which is the northern most part of Quebec, north of New Brunswick. I would say that it was the most picturesque part of our trip. We were the only ones at this campsite which had been closed for the season and it was all wooded. I am not making it up when I say as it became dark and we went to bed in the back of the pickup you could not see your hand when it was an inch from your face. We left EARLY in the morning as we thought IF anyone came with bad intentions we would forever be missing!!!! But---as we get into February and I begin to wait for the weather to get milder and spring to arrive I take time to think, dream, remember and perhaps even dare to plan a bit for trips in the future. I am still at a point that I don't know if I could emotionally hop in the truck and head off like Gail and I did but maybe, just maybe it could happen. As I looked at the picture I could smell the smoke and taste the food being cooked over the fire.
A God memory. Gail loved to be outside, she loved to plant flowers, she loved to garden and almost anything that involved nature she was into. When we moved to St. Paul we gave up our huge garden spot in ND and Gail was so sad for that. As we moved in to our present house it had a nice yard but not really a great place for a garden. Well Gail was not thinking of gardening but she mentioned in the spring that we should meet our neighbors. She baked some banana bread and with kids in hand we walked down to the end house to give them the bread and introduce ourselves. We had no idea who lived there as we had moved in to our house in October and of course with winter coming you do not get to see a lot of your neighbors. Well an elderly gentleman answered the door. The short version of the story is that he had a vacant lot and he used to garden but could not any more. He had been waiting to find someone to garden in his spot. So for the next several years we had a huge garden allowing him to pick whatever he wanted but we grew more than we could eat. A side benefit was that most times I would go over there he insisted I come in, site down and talk over a glass of wine(I would add that the wine was not your $20 bottle of wine but it was drinkable). He was a retired St. Paul teacher so we had a lot in common. Another example of how God more than provides for us when we truly try to follow him in our daily lives.
Yesterday was busy. Audrey was here in the morning, I picked up Henry from school at noon, went to Cynthia/Mike for dinner and had the area men here in the evening to share and pray. Today I went out for breakfast to discuss somethings with a friend and it will be a meeting tonight.
It was this week one year ago that we met with Dr. Morton and she said Gail's cancer was back. It is hard to really believe that it was only 1 year ago and already I am saying that it has almost been 5 months since we said our good-bys to Gail. Since that time we have created new memories without our beloved Gail by celebrating 6 birthdays, 2 major holidays and welcoming a new granddaughter. It certainly is a vivid reminder that life is fleeting and each of us should do everything possible to love and be loved by those we are close to. It is rather strange but growing up in the family I did I heard "I love you" very very very seldom. I know that mom and dad loved me and I would kiss them both goodnight until I was quit old but to this day it is not natural or real easy for me to say "I Love you" to anyone. Interesting.
I am going to spend most of my day at home until the evening meeting. Perhaps I may get some things done that just kind of sit around begging to get attention!
1 comment:
Since we were raised in the same household, I also find it hard to say "I love you". I'm also not a huggy, feely, touchy person. I find it difficult. But when I do hug or say "I love you" it is from my heart, I mean it and there is nothing superficial about it. I realize I've missed out through the years but I'm always trying to be better at it. I've found that works!
Love, Helen
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