Mother's Day 2012

On Mother's Day 2011, I mentioned to Dave that this would be my first Mother's Day without spending it with Nathan.  After church he showed kindness and decided we would have breakfast at Frank's Diner, which is a diner in a train carriage in Spokane.  We enjoyed going there but on this day, it was so full, we decided to go to The Iron Grill (I think it's called) which was another favourite place of ours to have breakfast.  It was packed in there too, but we were hungry and we managed to get a table without having to wait first.  Huge chocolate coated strawberries were given to all the mothers there and we had a great time together, also indulging in one of our favourite pastimes of making up stories about the people around us.  We didn't know that would be the only Mother's Day we would get to celebrate together.

As mentioned in the previous blog post, I decided for this Mother's Day, Nathan and I would go for a beach/bush horse ride that lasts two and a half hours.  It rained all night and even in the morning, it poured down and we wondered whether the ride would be called off.  The sun would come out and I'd say to Nathan, "See! It will be all right.  The rain has gone away." and he'd remark back that he felt I was trying to be too positive.  We stopped at a little beach side town market which was particularly unremarkable and then headed out to The Blazing Saddles place.  We signed the disclaimer amid signs "Horse riding is a high-risk activity" and undettered, we found helmets that fit and zipped up our rain jackets. 

Out of the five visiting riders, I was the only one with some experience and Nathan was the next 'experienced' but the horses are well trained and it was mostly walking, although the two leaders did get the others riding up to a trot.  At one point, the main leader told me to keep my horse back so they could trot for a distance and when they got to a certain point, I was allowed to canter to catch up to them with the other leader.  That was quite fun and there were other times when I had to go faster than a walk to catch up again, as I was talking to the leader behind me who was from Ireland and chatting about all her horse experience. (In the photo, you can just see the ocean on the left hand side between the trees.)
It rained and when we were in the bush, it was muddy and somewhat slippery.  The sun came out and when our jeans were a little drier, it would pour down again.  If I had have taken my jeans off, I could have wrung out half a bucket of water. (Maybe).  When we got down to the beach, it was windy even though the sun was out and a couple of the horses started misbehaving so the leader decided we needed to head back.  The whole ride still took 2 1/2 hours and both Nathan and I were glad to get off the horses when we got back.  My legs are a little sore but not too uncomfortably.  Even though the weather wasn't perfect, we enjoyed our little adventure.

On the way home, we stopped at a general store and I picked up a horse deals magazine which Nathan flicked through, too.  I did feel a bit overwhelmed about buying my own horse.  I would love to have my own horse but I know that I am inexperienced even though I looked after our horses at home in Reardan.  Even though I had to do it on my own, give them hay, make sure they had water, groom them etc., there was always Dianne or Dave, or even Nick to call, if I needed to.  It is true that part of the reason I want my own horse is because it represents part of my life with Dave.

The thing is, I want to get on with my life without Dave (since I have to) but at the same time I want to hold on to the life I had with him.  There's a part of me that's eager to move forward and live life but there's also a part of me that yearns to be back with Dave, holding on to him, living life with him and I don't want to let go.  Just like we have to walk before we run, I have to go through this grieving process before I can really 'live' again.  How long is a piece of string = How long does the grieving process last?

On Facebook I read news of what's happening with my (Dave's) family over in the US and I feel so far away.  I am having to go through this grieving period without the physical closeness of my family and friends who are also grieving the loss and life of Dave.  They can rally around each other, share meals, celebrate other milestones together and I am here.  So feeling overwhelmed, I went to turn on the electric blanket on my bed earlier this evening and I noticed a little medal/coin type thing that I had bought when I first came back to Australia.  I picked it up off the floor and read, "One day at a time" and I sighed because I  know I can only do this one day at a time and I can't skip through to the 'end' without doing it one day at a time.  On the other side of the coin it says, "This is the day the Lord has made.  Let us rejoice and be glad in it."

One day at a time, I will walk this garden trail of grief and each step will be made with the Lord holding my hand and guiding me through the muddy trails that cause me to slip and slide, the low-hanging branches that obstruct my view ahead and that I have to duck under so that I don't get poked in the eye by a stick, the steep climb and the occasional bursts of sunshine that provide warmth and a break from the rain that seeps through my clothing and makes me feel cold and very wet.  No matter what the trail, if I look ahead, I can see beautiful views of waves crashing, blue/green oceans and perhaps even a rainbow that spans the sky and reminds me that God makes and keeps His promises.  One day at a time, I will walk through this garden trail of grief.