Been busy today cooking and cleaning. Having company this weekend. We are having our annual McMurray Fam Jam up at baby brother’s house to kick off the summer. They are great hosts. They have a pool, too, so all the children enjoy swimming. We have such a wonderful happy time when our families gather together. All the cousins enjoy each other. No lap babies to pass around this year. The last little one is running around now. Might hear some tall tales, too! I’m grateful for my family and the love we have for each other.

The only porch time I’ve had today was when I washed off the porch and sat down for a break with peanut butter and crackers. Penelope is at middle brother’s vet clinic, being boarded for the weekend, so I’ve worked on her play pen some. On one side the slats were really loose and she could have just walked through if she’d pushed on them but she’s so satisfied to be outside she never tries to escape. Put her in the playpen in the house and when you turn around she’s standing there looking at you, already jumped out. Don’t know why she doesn’t jump out on the porch. I can leave her alone and come in and do chores and she happily takes a siesta or watches the birds or watches the lizards and chipmunks run by. Just so our resident king snake Balthazar doesn’t crawl by. She might jump out for him.

It’s a beautiful afternoon. Sunny and hot. Had some wind chime wind this morning but it blew its self out. We’re having lots of hummingbirds today. They’ve been drinking at the feeders then sitting on the strands of party lights around the porch. Every one of them is a different shape — long and lean, short and fat, skinny and tall. The sun is bedding down, shining her last rays through the old magnolia tree across the street, turning its leaves gold. The bird feeders are full of cardinals and purple finches. A lone towhee is hopping around under the feeders. He is an occasional visitor but never brings family with him. Song birds eat all day long. They start at first light and stop when it’s dark. They should all be fat!

Hummingbird just flew by my face. Sounded like a race car.

Thinking tomorrow is another family party that Chief and Rosie will miss. Haven’t had a sad moment lately but had one late afternoon. The knife to the heart, the loss of breath from trying not to weep. Crying and weeping are two very distinct emotions. Weeping comes from your guts. Powerful waves of sadness and pain washing over you. Crying is quiet and forgiving in the heart. My grief moments for Chief are getting farther apart but Chief’s death is still an open wound on my heart. I was reading my devotional book this morning and came across a quote by Emily Dickinson that said, “Dying is a wild night and a new road.” Not sure what the wild night is relating to but I understand all too well the new road.

Maybe the wild night is the brief moments of chaos immediately following the death of a loved one when we’re trying to accept what has happened. When I went to the hospital to “discuss his care” as the nurse said, I had no idea Chief was dying. He had been taken to the hospital by ambulance to be checked out after a fall. Our whole family, including Chief, was ill with Covid. He died shortly after I arrived. I was able to sit by his side and hold his hand as he took his last breath. Such a heart wrenching experience knowing your loved one is dying and struggling to tell them how much you love them and having the courage to let them go.

Grief is a lifelong process. After the death of loved ones we all start a journey down a new path. When we start our walk we wonder why the birds keep singing and the sun keeps setting when our world is an anomaly and unrecognizable. Everyone’s journey after the death of a loved one is different. We all stumble and fall and get back up learning how to put one foot in front of the other. Others who are farther along on their paths help us find our way. Little by little we begin to turn the corner to acceptance and the sun breaks through on our walk and we are comforted by its warmth.

Aristotle Onassis said, “It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light.”