At the end of the call, the lady said, “I have prayer time, is there anything you’d like me to pray for?”

I took a deep breath.  Here was someone I’d only had a few minute conversation with and was in need of prayers for her own situation.  I took another deep breath and replied, “How about a cure for cancer.  I lost my husband to cancer and I understand what you’re going through.”

I managed to get off of the phone with just some crackling in my voice.  Then as I sat at my desk, the silent tears came…. the ones you develop so you can cry without others knowing…

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if our prayers could be answered… it won’t help John and she told me that they are anticipating that her sister only has a week or so left, but what an impact it could have on people across the world.

Miss you John… love you always…

I smiled… thought of John… quietly said, “Thank you, John.  Happy New Year!”

I hope this was a sign that 2012 is going to be a better year.  We’ll see.  Happy New Year, to all!

Then later, I climbed into the Jeep and wished I had John around to share the incident with.  A gut feeling led me to do the right thing when helped an elderly gentleman and smooshed a perp.

I was feeling quite happy and even a little proud and wished that I could tell John.

He didn’t often like hearing about my work and rarely discussed his.  “Tell me about your day” didn’t happen in our household.  In fact, he once bluntly told me that he didn’t care to hear about my work.  But that was John.  Occasionally, his eyes would light up and he’d tell me about a fire or a rescue and on very rare occasions he’d be interested in my day.  I learned to keep trivial bits unsaid.  But, this scenario would have been one he would have enjoyed.  He would have liked this one… good guy wins… bad guy loses.

But… he isn’t here…  In a good relationship there is something special between spouses, a certain caring that only exists between your partner.  That unconditional love…  And it’s gone.  Not coming back.  I tried to block the thought with pondering over what I’d have for dinner.  It is what it is.  I tried to push the sorrow under the rug and be gone with it.

I turned on the Jeep and playing on the radio was “Standing on Top of the World” by Van Halen.

John’s favorite group was Van Halen.  That particular song was one that I’d chosen to play at his viewing.

Maybe it’s a stretch, but in some way, it seemed like if he could have picked a song to convey the conversation we had about my day… he would have picked that song.  Almost like a “good job” or “way to go.”  Which was always appreciated because John rarely dispensed compliments… which had it’s positives and negatives, but at least you knew a “good job” was truly meant.  He kept the same high standards for himself so he at least kept the scales (of judgement) balanced.

But today, it felt as if there was a little… “Way to go, Mary!” sent my way.

I fought back tears… my husband never had the opportunity to become a little ‘ol man.  If I become a old woman… there won’t be a little ‘ol man to pull the car around.  Sigh…

I offered my condolences and told her that I’d lost my husband, too.  She expressed her condolences and then shared a story with me.  She volunteers at a hospital and when she returned for the first time after her husband had died, one lady there was over the top in expressing condolences and how sorry that she was that the she had lost her husband.

The widow replied, “I haven’t lost him, I know exactly where he is.”

I had a good chuckle out of it.  It’s better to laugh than to cry.

Before our conversation ended she mentioned that the shower is the best place to cry because you’re already all wet.  She made me smile again.  Obviously, she’d done her share of crying but was still smiling and laughing!  What a character, she was and a pleasure to talk to.

In the dream, John’s cancer was stageIV, the prognosis was grim, but he was feeling relatively okay.

The fire company decided to give him an award.  Basically, it was like…. “oh shit… he proably is going to die, so… we want to make sure that he knows we appreciated him… even though we don’t have a specific instance that he deserves a medal for.”  I’m not sure if the award was supposed to make John feel appreciated or if it was suppposed to keep those in the fire company feel as if they had done the right thing, so they didn’t have a guilty concience for not appreciating him while he was alive and for all of the things that he did.

Anyway… John saw that it was  a total BS award.  He hated those sort of things.  But… for whatever reason he went to the awards ceremony and accepted the award.  I don’t know why.  Normally, he would have not went.

It  was just a bizzare dream that on so many levels made no sense, but in other ways made lots of sense.  So often we don’t appreciate people when they’re living and only find how important they are when they’re gone.  I’ve had many conversations with multiple people that I didn’t prompt about how much the one fire company never appreciated all of his years of service and dedication.  There were no identifiable people in the dream, so I couldn’t tell you which fire company it was.

It was odd that I was just an observer and not there with John as a part of the dream.  How nice it would have been to talk to him, to be able to embrace him and be in his arms… if only a dream…

For many years, every-time I was on a horse I was schooling or training… even while warming up, cooling down, and out on the trails.  It took me a long time to realize… I didn’t have to “train” for every minute and that it was sometimes just best to let go and let things happen as they may.  Relax.  Chill out… and be a passenger rather than a driver.  I’m sure my mounts were much happier when I finally backed off.

In this case it involves Levi.

Levi runs off when he gets lose.  My solution is to not let him lose.  As much as I’d like to have a nice family dog to hang out with… I don’t trust him to not run off.

I like dogs three dimensional and alive.

However, when he gets lose he is like and endless loop… run to neighor one’s yard… run to neighbor two’s yard… run to neighbor three’s yard… return… get caught and put back in pen.

I recently had a conversation with Neighbor 1 and they said it never  bothered them when Levi got lose.  The other neighbors were gone.

Today, I fashioned a temp lead out of baling twine and was going to outsmart him from getting lose.

The theory was great, but the timing didn’t quite work.  Pony went wrong way and it was either let go of dog or have him get stepped on.

I let go…

He took off…

I held my breath that the baling twine would fall lose and thankfully it did.

This time when Levi came back… I didn’t rush to contain him.

I greeted him and pettted him and went about my barn chores.

To my surprise Levi hung out with me… almost as if he was on a leash and when he started to get too far away I called his name and low and behold… HE CAME!!!

I was proud of two things… 1.  my boy for coming back and being a good dog and 2. Myself for letting go and giving him the opportunity to succeed (or fail).

Sometimes it’s hard to let go and sometimes it is the right thing to do.

Levi is ready to walk with me.  We head out to the big field.  He is eager and well behaved.  Once I’m to the familiar path I turn off the flashlight and let the moonlight shine my way.

It is silent.  I wonder how many people miss these magical moments.

The field horses aren’t close.  I shake the bucket… and whistle… and wait… silence.  In the far distance I hear the owl.  Whooo… Whooo.. Whooo…  I smile as I think of my son’s face lighting up when he here the owl and his charming owl sounds.

Several whistles later… I hear hoofbeats… first one horse then another.

Finally, I hear four galloping up the hill.  Listening to their hooves… their breathing… it reminds me that the Preakness is Saturday evening.

I wonder which of mine will win the feeding race.  Willow wins, but has slowed to a walk at the finish.  Poor fat out of shape Willow Bear.  I sympathize with her.

Next is tall noble Remi.  He is very handsome in the moonlight.  His chestnut coat shines and his whites gleam.

Wilson comes in third and looks for a feeding spot.  He looks so regal and almost baroque in the moonlight.  Definite the most baroque of any Standardbred/ Thoroughbred/Arabians I’ve seen… umm… the one that I’ve seen.  With his upright stature he looks classy and cultured.  Different that the mud coated beast of this morning.  Like the others he shines in the moonlight.

One last set of hoofbeats… galloping… galloping… galloping…

Then she appears- little Lu Lu.  Her diminutive size always keeps her in the rear, but her personality and beauty brings her to the forefront.  He blue eyes are striking and her tiny ears and chiseled face are exquisite!  Little does she know what dreams she holds for me.

The field of four will never make it to a Preakness… but they’re priceless in my heart.

As we leave them to finish their grain and return to their grazing, Levi and I both want the same.  We want to explore the paths lit by the moonbeams.  To venture away… to explore.  But… responsibility reins me in.  Kiddo is sleeping.  What if he wakes?  I know better than to venture to far from the house…

Amber has came down to the corner of her field and beckons to us.  No doubt she came in hopes of getting the last bit of grain, but I ignore that.  No sound from the house, so we take a quick visit down to see her.  Her light buckskin coat is almost the same shade as the moonbeams.  She almost seems to glow.  She settles for a pet since the grain is gone.

Then Levi and I head to the house… and we say goodnight to the moon beams… the owl… and the satisfied horses.  I bid adieu to my little slice of Heaven and prepare to head off to bed.

That’s not the best time to exit.  So, I stayed.

There it was… a beautiful bike trailer.  Yellow and black.  It made me think of LiveStrong.  This was clearly a quality, and no doubt not a cheap, bike trailer.  I reember looking at it and having two thoughts.

1. Wow!  What an awesome present. It was gorgeous.  It was perfect.
2. John would have loved that for Nathaniel.

I tried my hardest to be happy for the recipient.  It was perfect for their family.  I wasn’t jealous at all.  But it broke my heart because I knew… if John was around Nathaniel would have a bike trailer like that…. not a clearance one from Target.

It reminded me how John always did things the right way.  He believed in doing things right even if it meant spending a little more money.  He liked quality.

It reminded me of how John would have picked a well designed well rated bike trailer.  He would have read reviews; talked to cycling friends; visited several bike shops,  and done lots of research on the internet.  He’d been scoping out bike trailers since kiddo was born… probably even when I was pregnant.

He wouldn’t have on a whim picked up a clearance bike trailer from Target.  (Which honestly, is not typical for me, either.  I’m a muller , contemplator, and a ruminator… and no good at auctions… )

Then there was the realization that I don’t have excess money that we used to.  I don’t have two healthy incomes anymore.  I have one rather stagnant one, supplemented by something called a retirement that doesn’t even add up to enough to pull federal taxes out of on a monthly basis…  The realization is that I can’t afford to go out and purchase expensive bike trailers that will see little use. If I knew it would get a lot of good use… I’d pay more, but I know myself… a few jaunts a year is pretty much what it will see.  I’m either too timid or too safety conscious (depending on your opinion) to go out on the road alone and don’t have much interest to go out in groups.

But, I do have a bike trailer and kiddo does love it.  He doesn’t know that it’s a cheapie… he doesn’t know that his daddy would have gotten him better.  He just thinks its fun to bounce around on the trails with his pathetically out of shape mother huffing and puffing along.  His daddy would have provided much more speedy rides of much greater variation and length.

I do know that John would be proud that I got a bike trailer and took kiddo out.  Heck, maybe he’d be happy that I found a good deal.

I’ve been thinking it’s time to dust off the trailer and head out to the trails.  I’ve learned that if I want to do something it often is just me doing it.  Waiting for company and juggling schedules never seems to work.  Time just goes by and nothing gets done.  I just wish I had the confidence to go more places and that I knew how to fix a tire.  I find there is a confidence in knowledge and ignorance causes me to worry.   I know how to ride the bike on a basic level… that’s it… no mastery.    I also know that there are things I’m talented at and things  I’m not.  If it is mechanical or requires construction, or anything more than the simplest tool my brain has pathetic understanding.  I guess if I ever have a tire go, I’ll either learn how to fix it, come across some assistance, or get some mileage out of my shoes and use on my cell phone…

I remember the ride that we took on “the rail trail.”  I unknowingly was in the early stages of pregnancy and we went a long way.  I was worn out and there was John right beside me… telling me I could do it… coaching in an encouraging way…. supporting…  at one point he put his hand on my back and helped give me a little push to ease my fatigue and keep me going.

Damn I miss that…

Stuck mired in mud… my own self imposed mud… that seems like quicksand… sucking me down… why is it so hard to get out of the mire and not be consumed by the quicksand?

And I feel like every time I get an ounce of motivation to move forward something inhibits me…

Finally… decided to mow the lawn.  Kiddo was still asleep.  It should have been mowed about a month ago.

And… lawnmower won’t start.  I think battery is dead.  My neighbor who always saves me is on the road and won’t be back for about a week.

There I am… mired again… although this time I’ve had an offer of assistance and hope I can get back on the right track.

But I can’t help but think…Why is picking up the pieces so hard?