We really weren’t expecting this last snowfall. Granted, we were told it might happen, but you never know with weather! The snow started out as hard dusty flakes and then evolved into the glittery huge blossoms of Hollywood snow found on old time sets. By the next day, most of it was gone.
Both Thursday and Friday, I was blessed with unexpected surprises. Calls from friends I’d not heard from in a very long time. The first I last talked to almost 8 months ago, the other I think it has been years since I last heard her voice! The second call I had hoped might happen, but wasn’t sure. I text squeeed when I finally heard from her. Turns out she called me hours before she is to board her plane and fly away from the states. It is much cheaper to call from CA than it is to call from China! I took the sunset photo while talking to her. I also heard from an Alaskan friend. I thought she was still on vacation in a very sunny clime (Cabo???). She arrived back with the snow!
Thankful for these super surprising voices I’ve not heard from in ages and ages. Wisdom and friendship and fun. When people reach out, take their hands and be blessed.
Mum had the pain pump surgery on Monday and is doing fairly well. Pictured is the remote for the pump, absolutely fascinating thing. She gets a continuous dose for 24 hours and then she can boost it every few hours if she wants. Unfortunately, she has used that boost as well as her regular pain meds. She’s hurting a great deal. On the way back from the surgery, one of her friends was also flying home and they sat together. Susie is a wonderful blessing!!!
Once back on the Kenai, we got more snow and stunning sunsets. February is such a lovely winter month. I’m so glad it is in the calendar!!! Even when it is wet and grey, it has hints of beauty ready to drop on us unexpectedly.
I’m glad this week is over, I’m taking the sunset from last night as a promise of peace to come.
I took this photo the last day in January, I think. It is a beautiful image of today and tomorrow. The darkness is enhanced by the setting sun spilling colors across the ice and sky. It is hope and completion. I never know what the next day will bring. I rarely know what will happen in the next hours. I do know the shining lights will never be extinguished, they will always be there in every nook and cranny.
I’m blessed by this promise and I pass it on to you as a Valentine. –I sent this photo off as a postcard to many friends. I decided to add it here, too!
This month has been a bit of a ride. We’ve been back and forth to Anchorage and there are so many things to be thankful for! The airlines has been such a blessing. It is so nice to know the 4 hour drive to the city will only take 30 min, including on and off the plane time. The taxi driver, Tony, was incredible. He drove us every day from the hotel to the doctor and back. What a wonderful young man! The Doctor should have a post of his own. I had no idea how tremendous pain management was. If any of my followers has chronic pain, please look into this part of the medical field. Life changing. And then, my last breakfast at the hotel, chicken and waffles. I’ve always read about this dish and never had a chance to try it. Talk about yummy!!!!!!!
I’m so blessed by the grand bits of life around me. It’s been rather awful, the lights shine in the darkness and gleam.
I love to celebrate the birthdays of my family and my friends. When I lamented to my youngest that I might not be there for his 24th, he stated it wasn’t a milestone birthday. I beg to differ! EVERY birthday is a milestone. But, as I look at the celebrations in this next month, I’m struck by the memories evoked by the song from Fiddler on the Roof, ‘Sunrise, Sunset.’ When I was out taking the photographs above, I was contemplating how fast things change. At one point, my batteries died during my session with the sunset. In the few minutes it took to get to my rig for new batteries and replace them, the sky dramatically turned a different direction. Life does that even when you are looking.
Youtube movie section–Fiddler on the Roof.
I’m so glad dad isn’t here, but I miss him so much. I’m glad he’s not watching mum slowly die by inches. Or recover by centimeters, if that is the case. But, I’m glad dad doesn’t have to mess with this uncertainty of moment by moment. Dad died on Jan 28, 2006. On grandma’s birthday. It is always a hard day for mum and I’m glad I’m here. I really wanted to be back in Oregon, but it doesn’t seem the right time yet. Monday we visit a doctor who specializes in pain. It will be interesting to see what might happen from that visit. I often perch on the memorial bench and talk to dad. Sometimes I have cried. Usually, I just sit. It is kind of funny, I’m almost closer to my dad now, than when I was growing up. He got me when I was an unformed preteen. I’m amazed at his kindness and goodness for a couple of girls he basically took over.
I don’t mean for this to be depressing. I do miss him, I am so thankful he’s not here. His lungs had been turned to charcoal after decades of smoking. Sixty-five isn’t very old to meet the end of life, he didn’t have a choice. Not then. His choices were earlier, when he didn’t make the decision to stop smoking. It was his only vice and it killed him. I’m always thankful when people I know stop smoking. It isn’t fair to their bodies or those around who love them.
As I type this, I am blessed I knew my dad. I’m beyond thankful he adopted us. I’m honored he chose me be his daughter. I’m so glad I was with him when he died. I miss you, Dad.
It is quiet now, but as soon as the ice breaks the fish and gulls return the cacophony of life begins anew. Standing in the snow and cold, I contemplated how different things are today on the Kenai. Years ago, canneries and boats, up and down the inlet, were as thick as mosquito hoards and just as busy. Young people from all over would work and breathe fish, taking home paychecks for college or whatever else they wanted to do with them. I talked with a friend who started summer fishing on boats when he was 15. I met the owner of, I believe, the cannery pictured. Two different people tied to their homes in this state by the fishing lines of the past and present.
There is a blessing in the continuity of seasons and a blessing in a purple hued winter afternoon where it can be observed.