Praying for Rain

I don't think I have to. By all accounts of the weathermen, it is going to rain a lot over the next few days. Which may backfire on me--hopefully it isn't too much. I just got through putting down fertilizer/weed killer to the lawn and patching the areas that need some new seed. And now I'm sitting outside. It is perfect. It feels like the coast, the sky is clear, the sun is down, the interstate is quiet, and it is 58 degrees. I think the only thing that could make this better would be to have a sweet companion at my side enjoying the night air. Gosh. I hate that. It is difficult not to let my mind wander to that. Over and over.

I also hated seeing one of the male neighbors taking out his family's trash. Why do I let stuff like that get to me? It's so dumb. They don't realize how much my seeing stuff like that just eats at me and pierces me to the core, and it isn't their fault--it's the division of labor that should take place in a home. I guess it's like all of the times we get annoyed with silly things that people do or say (or am I the only one that does that?) and they don't have a clue that we're annoyed--the fault is with us and the ball is in our court to let it go. Easier said than done sometimes.

As I was wrestling Carson this evening and trying desperately to get out his splinters in his hands (I think he got them from playing by our fence--oh the joy it has been to send them all outside to play!!) that were many and were very deep, I again thought of how Adam could help me with that task. While I tried to bat the thought away, I knew in that moment that even if Adam were around, he couldn't have helped that situation. I know how he was afraid to cut the boys' nails...much less break out a needle and tweezers to perform kiddie surgery. It's so silly because I know he wouldn't have done it--it would've been me.

Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe the fact that I learned to be independent to an extent in our relationship was helpful to my well being now. Certainly it has given me more confidence, knowing that I'm not a helpless woman who can't do things on her own.

Rotella's smells so good tonight. SO GOOD. Living between a giant italian bread factory and a Tyson bacon plant have their perks. You'd think that I'd weigh 90 pounds because smelling this stuff should be good enough, right? Ha. I wish.

I still long for him. I often wonder if I always will. Or if I will be able to put him on a shelf at some point and not just ache to my core. I mean, my remarried widowed friends, I often wonder how that is for them. When they get frustrated with their current spouse or relationship, does their mind wander right back to their dead spouse? I read enough commentary from such widows/widowers to know that they still hurt and wish for their former spouse. I don't know.

No amount of pillows, no amount of what the kids call "daddy smell" on those pillows makes sleeping better. I mean, the shock of him not lying next to me is gone--but I still say "DANG" every morning. I've tried different tactics. I've tried laying pillows in his spot while I sleep. I've tried a fuzzy blanket in his space. I've tried lying in his space. But nothing is the same. I HATE IT. HATE.

I've tried over and over to write the talk I've been asked to present for stake conference. Speaking for hundreds of people is scary, but I suppose I've done it plenty. I'm wrestling with how to present the topic I've been given. The topic is one I feel overwhelmed to give, but I knew when I saw the caller ID that I was supposed to do this--there was no way to say no. I often wonder when that confidence will come. Public speaking is something everyone in our church does from a young age, and they all seem to do it well. Hmm. We shall see. Hopefully someday. I will keep praying.