As we get older, so do our parents. My father passed away almost 16 years ago. He was a young man, really, just 60 years old.
Today, my mother, in her mid 70's, was admitted to the hospital. She's not well, she has had some gastro related problems for the last few years. She will probably recover and be fine, her health is otherwise very good.
But as we go through life we see ourselves as someone, often in relation to others. I am the farmer's wife, or Shauna's mother, or Nick's sister and I am my mother's daughter. I was my daddy's little girl, even when I was 25 years old and living on my own. But once my father passed away, that role didn't exist anymore. For the first couple of years after my father's death, my brothers tried hard to continue to make me feel like daddy's little girl. As they married and had wives and children of their own, the roles changed again.
I became sister-in-law, aunt, godmother.
I don't think I'm ready yet to stop being my mother's daughter.
Monday, March 12, 2007
I think that no matter where you live, the view from your front door is important. Like when I go to visit my mom, the view from her front door is almost exactly the same as it was when I was a child growing up. I love to go "home" to her house and see that familiar view.
The view from my house is of our fields. The field across the road from the house had corn growing in it last year. It will probably have corn growing in it again this year. I love watching the corn in the spring and summer. A few weeks after the seed is planted, you start to see lines of green plants sprouting up. Then a few weeks later the plants ate fuller and the whole field looks green. When the plants get really tall, they wave when the wind blows. As summer turns to fall, the plants stop growing and start to turn brown as the corn begins to dry down. Then the corn is harvested and all that's left is corn "stubble". Just like 2 day old beard growth, the stubble stick up out of the ground, a reminder of the once tall beautiful green plants that were growing in its place.
Right now, the snow is melting and the stubble is starting to show through. This is a sure sign of spring. The deer are feasting on the leftovers from the fall. They collect in the field in groups. Sometimes a small group of seven or eight, many days large groups of 30-40! Millie can spot them from the kitchen window. They are way back in the field but she knows they are there! She barks at them, but they never come any closer!