Sunday, September 7, 2008

almost gone...

There's a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach every Sunday as I turn into my mother's drive way. Will it look any better? How much worse is it now?

A five acre pond that holds so many of my fondest memories and moments is almost, well, I don't really want to say it again. The water used to be where the tall grass is growing now. Years of drought, a silt-heavy spring, and more users up the way have all depleted what used to be a favorite spot for many, especially me.

It's where I learned to swim, where I had fun with family and friends, and most importantly, where I came to clear my head. There was so much peace to be found in it and around it. It was like a friend to me, holding my deepest thoughts and dreams when I wouldn't trust them with anyone else.

My daughter even said just the other day, "Momma, I've never been fishing. When can I go?" She's five. The dam was running over the year she was born, and now it's almost, well...

I'm not sure who told me that when a loved one is in heaven, they don't know what is going on on earth because it would make that person sad. There is only joy in heaven, so I know that my dad, whom I've missed for over 18 years now, can't see that one of his favorite places is almost...

He had it built. A dam constructed from a spring that, as a long-time neighbor once said, "has never run dry." I wonder what Dad would say about it now. What would he do? Would it make him sick to his stomach, too, if he was still here?

I miss my dad. I miss the lake. I hope for joy, and rain, from heaven.


"The LORD will surely comfort Zion and will look with compassion on all her ruins; he will make her deserts like Eden, her wastelands like the garden of the LORD. Joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the sound of singing." Isaiah 51:3




6 comments:

lessthan6degrees said...

I am so "in your zone" of life. I want to keep in touch. I am new to blogging. Mine is not as sophistocated, but I can learn. I miss my mom so much, too. I live in my hometown that has changed so much. Love, Viki

San said...

I like your blog immensely.It looks wonderful and I wish i had a blog like yours.meet me at my blog
http://dcgas.blogspot.com/

lessthan6degrees said...

I have a close friend who is her last (35th) year of teaching in an inner city school. I am trying to support her. If you have any ideas, please let me know. She has her daughter and granddaughter living with her since the father is a Captain in Afghanistan, and her husband is a retired firefighter, so this is a really difficult year for her.

Mia's Mama said...

What a lovely shot of such a memorable spot. Do you have any photos of it during it's prime?

Andrea said...

I can understand your sadness.

d.girl said...

Thank you all for your kind words!

Viki, please tell your friend to pray fervently. That is what has gotten me through my lowest times. It is what gets me through each day. Even though this post was probably sad to read (definitely hard to write), I know it is part of the healing process. I don't think that process ever ends, but I do know it gets a little easier.

Viki and San, please come back and visit again!

Mama Mia, I do actually have a shot of the lake in its prime, but it was before I went digital. Thanks for visiting!