Nathaniel Hawthorne once said, "Life is made up of marble and mud." The events of the past few days attest to that adage.
Musing about the sudden death of Prentice Meador and the empathetic feelings I have for Barbara brought back memories of those painful early widowhood days. Days when I was getting used to the absence of my love for 30 years, the empty chair at the table, the empty space on the right side of the bed, the lifeless clothing hanging in the closet, the empty pew beside me on Sunday morning, the grieving child, and days when I wondered what life would bring next. Fortunately those feelings subsided, and life became golden again (although with spaces still missing). And mud became marble.
Marble days abound in December--I can't go into any store (even the grocery store) without wonderful memories and excitement for the days to come with Maddie, Ella and Sam anticipating Santa. I have finally finished decoraating my house with many, many, many, many things collected over the past 47 years. Phew! I do love those lights on the tree and the stories behind some of the decorations. There are two white angels on my end table that Sam brought to our marriage--still intact (though with one glued wing)--and my favorite from him--a band of musicians made out of paper and colored pipe cleaners. I believe he bought them in the 50's. And a new decoration for the tree: Snowflake wooden frames holding the school pictures of Maddie, Ella and Sam. What joy!
Thank you God for the marble and mud of this life.