Thursday, September 13, 2018

flood

Last week Vernon County and surrounding areas experienced record flooding.  Again.  It rained for about a week.  Sometimes we'd get three inches in about 20 minutes.  All the creeks and rivers fled their banks.  Valleys were scoured clean, houses and businesses were under water, towns lost power, farm fields became lakes, roads were/are impassable.  Eventually the sun came out but the evidence of the deluge remains clear.

If our hearts were a flood perhaps they'd look like this.

In the midst of it all the girls started school (thus the rubber boots on the first day).  Yes, school.  Like go-to-a-building-and-sit-in-a-desk-along-with-other-people-your-exact-same-age kind of school.  More big changes for these always-been-homeschooled girls.  Andy was in on this decision at least for the big one (6th grade).  The littler one (3rd grade) kinda got it sprung on her.  It wasn't exactly what we wanted but change brings change (and brings change).  And so far they are rolling with it pretty amazingly.  My heart aches for so many reasons when I pick them up at the end of the day and they are all smiles and fill the car with urgent stories and chatter from the day.  I am so happy they are happy.  I am so devastated that he is not here to see it.  I am still, in deep ways, so confused by how we even got here. 

We are working on our groove.  I'm back at work.  The girls at school.  The puppy in her crate.  I'm driving a ridiculous amount to shuttle children and let dogs out to pee.  We eat a lot of grilled cheese and popcorn and steamed kale.  The laundry piles up, the phone goes unanswered, the grass gets long, library books get overdue, and sometimes someone is mad or crying and there is not enough of me to go around.  His absence is a glaring hole that often brings us to our knees. 

And still there is us blasting Pharrell Williams Happy while we clean up the kitchen, and there are the bouquets of bright fall flowers on the table, and there is a soft hand rubbing my back and a quiet voice saying "mom, it will get better" and I can feel him there so strongly in her.


And so again today it is onward.

1 comment:

Catherine said...

Oh Jonel. Your beautiful words ring deep in all of us who read you. Love from our family in this big time of transition.