Buffeted by the wind

I step outside and the wind runs up to meet me. The strong breeze cools me as I walk around my garden – I am, after all, a woman of a certain age.

Green grass is soft beneath my feet as I inspect our rock garden. Hardy perennials, aggressive in their ownership of the space, flourish. Their greens and pinks nod as I pause to look. Spindly annuals cannot compete at this early stage of summer, but I know they will lose their shyness as the days pass and they grow into their space.

Stronger now, the breeze, almost wind, pushes me towards our row of bushes. The row is a medley of colour, size, shape and variety. This year it is looking a little wild – and I like it that way. I know that a discussion of neat and orderly, initiated by hubby, surely looms on the horizon.

The wind nudges me along the row. I marvel at the unique shape and shade of each bushes’ leaves.

Tiny pink petals make up a larger flower with flowery webs and spikes adding to the difficulty of describing such beauty.

My eyes become teary, but it is not the wind’s fault. The beauty of Almighty God’s creation overwhelms me. The scenery blurs. But the wind pushes me on. The wind. Pushes me on.

How tempting it sometimes is to pause, to stop, to stay too long in one place. Beauty, comfort, a familiar unchanging rut. But the wind of the Holy Spirit pushes me on. Pushes me to new experiences. Propels me forward through unwanted change. Prods me to do kindness and patience and loving over and over again. Patiently reminds me to go to the Source of my life – to converse and listen and “be” in the circle of His care and love. Puts me in a place of light and water so I can grow into the Creation He wants me to become.

Buffeted by the Wind – not a bad place to be.

Let’s journey together.

© Denise Budd Rumble 2010

Reality of no time or space

There is a place of no time with no boundaries of space or place. It is a place where one can be young and old. New jobs and old, loved ones long gone from this earth and new friends – all mingle together in a cacophony of emotions and goings on.

It is a place where thinking and worrying and turning a problem over and over in one’s mind for days, sometimes weeks, brings about a concrete solution – a concrete “thing” – so that the worry passes and action ensues.

One can enjoy their children as young needing care, and as grown with spouses and children of their own. One can converse about the every day, the new job of a child or grandchild, the upcoming journey, the course of a school year, and about the present daily happenings of a parent long passed into glory.

There is no time continuum. There are no boundaries. Imagination becomes reality. There are no limits to the realization of our fondest dreams and longings.

This place is called “dementia brought on by small blood vessel disease.”

As the child I watch as my mother lives her days in a morphed combination of past and present. For now she is in a happy place and I pray it stays so.

She and I converse. “How are you doing?” she asks.

“I’m well, Mum. Busy with my job – but it’s good.”

“And your hubby – is he enjoying his semi-retirement? How about the children?”

And I wonder how old she thinks “the children” are, but she continues and asks if my youngest is finished university yet, and I realize that for this moment she is very much in the present and in tune with my reality.

She listens to my answers and then continues, “I talked to my Mam this morning. She was wondering when I’d be able to come home…”

And so in the exhale of a breath she is years and continents away, but every bit in her present and her reality as I am.

Let’s journey together.

© Denise Budd Rumble 2010