Despite one fun dinner invitation that temporarily dissolved into a million legos being dumped on the floor, our weekend was quiet and somber.
I may or may not have spent my weekend wishing that all the best bloggers weren't preoccupied with Alt. Knowing that so many women in my age group are not only more stylish than me, but also had much more exciting things to do this weekend than meal planning and grocery shopping; well it left me a little deflated. These are the dangers of being a blog reader. I expect most of those reading this know exactly what I mean.
But the weekend was a bigger downer than that. Sometime Saturday one of my Dad's horses died unexpectedly. (As unexpectedly as a rather old horse can die). There proceeded to be an unpleasant ordeal of moving and burying an extremely heavy, muddy corpse. I never did get very emotionally attached to the family horses. They began to be acquired shortly before I graduated from High School and moved out so I never shared in the chores of keeping them fed and cleaned up after, nor did I ride them much. The rest of my siblings, however, were visibly distraught. I mostly had my hands full trying to keep Sir O from seeing the horse corpse when everyone else was so preoccupied with it. The kid has nightmares about VeggieTales, I'm not exactly eager to be dealing with visions of dead bodies.
But the glimpses I caught of the corpse-dragging ordeal were enough to leave me disturbed and introspective. There is no escaping death for any of us. Someday my body will also be a corpse - though I hope it will not be dragged through the mud when the time comes. Even though I cannot currently comprehend participating in reality without a body, I am not my body. My body is a tool and a shell and an experience - eternal in nature, but in it's telestial state it is fleeting and I am not. There are lots of moments when I can almost tangibly feel how my mortality limits my capacity to comprehend truth. This body and this brain have such a heavy veil placed on them, and I expect the phenomenon of shedding it all is rather joyful.
Yet so much of my job just now is to help our Gentleman figure out how to get comfortable and familiar with his rapidly changing, temporary body. It is a grim and gritty place to be a mother and remember that your young children will someday prove mortal. It serves as a terrifying and yet poignant reminder of how necessary faith in a loving God is to make our short lives meaningful and productive. I'm beginning to understand.
And so I have on my mind how I want to be remembered. I do NOT want to be remembered as the mom who was preoccupied with the internet - so that's a perpetual balancing act in progress. But I do want to be remembered as a listening ear, a soothing touch, a warm meal, an inspiring and relevant story, a creative outlet, an honest opinion, and a testimony in action.
What sort of legacy are you shooting for?
3 comments:
You are one of those bloggers who is more stylish than ME! And you have such a great eye with style...
Sounds like one of those weekends. I keep waiting for something fun and exciting to happen. Hmmmm. Maybe I should plan something! We miss you!
an unexpectedly introspective blog post from one that began with classy bloggers and a dead horse.
i dig.
I was more than a tad jealous of all the delightful bloggers who went to ALT. I don't, however think I'd fit there very well and would probably just hide in a corner feeling overwhelmed by everybody else's abundant awesomeness.
And there's the ever elusive balance. Why is it always out of grasp? I seem to be an all or nothing kind of girl and have such a hard time with the moderation in all things deal.
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