meaningful life

Remembering Friend Marie and Reflecting on Her Message to March Forth

It was one year ago that I was moving through the grief of my dear friend, Marie. She was 72 years old. I fondly referred to her as Miss Marie. I’d known her for about six years, but in that time she had a significant impact on my life.

A big fan of the author and illustrator, Tasha Tudor for many years now, Marie reminded me of her in many ways. Many, including myself, considered Tasha eccentric in her way of living. She dressed in wool frocks, a scarf upon her head, and a shawl often around her shoulders. She didn’t believe in hurry yet accomplished much in her 92 years of life.

While Marie didn’t dress in wool frocks, she certainly had an eclectic flair, and she too an artist, she definitely lived to the beat of her own drum. It was something I deeply admired about her and what drew me to her like a magnet. And once we became friends, I soaked up all the wisdom I could from her.

I’m thinking of Marie today, March 4th, and the day we often associate with progress day. This day also the day of Marie’s funeral one year ago. I still recall how I awoke that day with a heart still heavy and missing her so much. As I shuffled into the kitchen I glanced at the calendar noting the day. I then glanced at the altar I’d made on my kitchen table with my favorite photo of Marie holding my dog, Gidget. 

I was swimming in sadness staring at the photo when I heard, “March forth.” It was Marie’s voice. I knew she was encouraging me to get on with life. It was just like her as that was the way she was in life. Though she suffered from depression, she was always encouraging me to make the best of life.

I devote a chapter in my latest memoir to her because she was an important part of my healing journey. 

Looking through photos of her to share here on my blog I felt the grief bubble up within me again. I tried to hold the tears back at first, but then recalled the words I’d just heard yesterday listening to a speaker on the Animal Wisdom World Summit. They came from Hanna Bracken, an animal communicator, and she said,  “Our strength comes in our dignity to shed our tears.” 

And so I let it out.

I then reflected on a post I saw on Facebook yesterday from fellow children’s book author and Wisconsinite, JoAnn Early Macken and her post that said, “It’s March Forth, the date I intentionally misspell every year to mean forward motion, not just a number. I’m reminding you now so you can take time to reflect on where you’ve gone (Hooray for you!), where you are now (Count your blessings!), and where you want to go (Luck, luck, luck!).”

And I think of my friend, Miss Marie. This is how we march forth by releasing the grief and pain when it comes and honoring it for reminding us that they are vital in understanding life. While I’ll always miss her, I have learned to be with her in a new way. And I want her to know that I have marched forth carrying her wisdom within my heart each step of the way.

xo,

Barbara

 

 

He No Longer Sends Me Flowers

It’s been years since John sent me flowers.

Dating and then becoming a young wife I admit I expected them. Isn’t that what one does on occassions such as Valentine’s Day, Birthday’s or Sweetest Day? Isn’t that what we’ve been taught to believe?

Oh, the times I was hurt, angry or sulked when I didn’t get flowers. 

Didn’t John love me?

This is what I thought.

My mind would spiral down the rabbit hole. I took it so. very. personally.

The blessing of growing older is that I’ve learned to laugh at myself.

I’ve also realized that the gift of this life is to love yourself. 

And the interesting and beautiful thing that has happened?

John has loved me even more than I could have ever imagined.

He hears and understands me even in times when I think he doesn’t, yet I continue to be who I am because this is what makes me happy.

And then one day he comes home from work with a big smile on his face.

Digging deep into his pocket he says, “I brought you a surprise.”

Wondering what it could possibly be I say, “You did?”

He walks toward me with his hand open. 

I see he has a handful of black stones.

All shiny except for one that looks more like a rock.

I sense his proudness as he hands them to me.

“They are Apache stones,” he says.

“I’ve never heard of Apache stones.” 

“Look it up,” he says. “They are from Arizona.”

He tells me they are currently installing a fireplace in the house he’s been building.

The inset around the fireplace has many different stones from Arizona embedded in it.

He hands me what is left of the stones that the homeowner gave him.

I look up the meaning of stones. They are referred to as Apache tears and here is what it says:

These stones were left scattered across the desert, where they can now be found.

Their historical meaning is that these stones are powerful to heal you if you are feeling grief and emotional distress.

“I love stones,” I said. “Thank you.” 

“See? I do listen to you,” he says with a grin. “I thought you’d like them.”

Pondering the meaning of the stones it runs through my mind the fact that John’s Dad passed away two weeks ago. 

It’s been a tender time. 

I’ve witnessed a softening of John and sense an expansion of his heart.

I think about that someday should I be the one left.

My warrior. The one who has seen me at my best and also at my very worst.

Yet he has always stood by me.

I don’t need flowers. I never did.

All I ever needed was to be me.

And my warrior has loved me all the more for it.

Tears I hope to never have to shed should John die before me, but if that should be, I will do so with the deepest of love for the man who has walked beside me and loved me as who I am.

xo,

Barbara

Resource: https://meanings.crystalsandjewelry.com/apache-tear/

 

 

Spring at My Writing Cottage

Spring at My Writing Cottage

Spring has arrived at my little sanctuary in the backyard that I call my writing cottage. Though I’m seriously giving thought to renaming it my writing and creativity cottage as I do so much more these days than just do my writing here.

Soon I’ll be playing in, and exploring the world of, art journaling. I’ve gotten most of the supplies, but have yet been able to experiment with this due to my sprained back and only being able to sit for short periods of time. But I’m looking forward to my first dive into this creative process soon!

At any rate, this is my little hub of a haven. It may sound odd, but this space of my own has been instrumental in developing a space of my own within my heart that I grow more proud of everyday. This being “middle-aged” has its perks that I’m definitely enjoying.

New this year to my landscaping along the side of my cottage in this photo, I’m going to try and grow ranunculous. It is my all time favorite, favorite, favorite (did I mention it’s my favorite?) flower! I prepped the area early this morning as it is expected to be in the upper 80s today (where did spring go?). After the bulbs soak for the day, I’ll pop them in place early evening or early tomorrow morning. I can hardly stand the anticipation to see them grow!

But this flower I think such a favorite of mine because it reminds me of the beauty of being a woman and the many layers we have. Opening layer by layer of who we are in our own due time, appreciating each layer for all it’s gifts, even when it may feel challenging, reveals the intricate and uniqueness of each of us. I also love how it appears like a spiral in ways and how important it is to continue to move inward when need be, and then back out again.

Thanks for stopping by!

XO,

Barbara