This morning, as I sit outside on my back porch, it is silent. Well, it’s as silent as possible in the country. The air is heavy with fog. A few insects are buzzing and chirping. A buck snorts in the trees and one of our neighbor’s cows is lowing mournfully. I wonder if she is all alone in the pasture? For the past couple of days I have heard a cardinal chirp but I haven’t been able to see her.
Aside from all of that, it is silent.
I love mornings on my back porch.
In the past, I loved them because Steve and I would sit out here drinking our first cups of coffee, listening for the different creature sounds, talking about our thoughts on the world and dream of the future.
After he died, I sat out here because I felt closer to Steve. I felt that he was still here. I talked with him while sitting in his chair and bawled.
While the above remains true, seven months into this new life of mine, I think I’ve reached the point where I begin my mornings on my back porch because it’s just where I love to start my day. A day begun on the back porch with my coffee, dogs and Bible is a day begun well. The setting is one of peaceful communion with nature, God and my thoughts.
Grieving sucks.
Surviving is still hard.
But life…life is still good!
“Nothing ever gets easier. You just get stronger.”
unknown
OnJoyRoad 