Trick or Treating and Training Session

Click here to view these pictures larger

Uploading some photos this morning to my blog, my profile caught my eye.  I am not sure why it drew my attention today, but the sucker punch was anything but subtle. It was one of those moments that sneak up on me, feeling more like a bitch slap than a gentle nudge!   Waiting for the upload, two phrases blinked back at me. Ok, so some things have changed in my life and I neglected to update my blog.  As I read the words I am transported back to what used to be.  And the “used to be” compared to my current state is what shoves me headfirst into the empty spot of what once was. In my heart I know life changes every day, and change is good and unavoidable.  My problem with change is twofold.  One, I am not in charge of it.  Two, I am not in charge of how long it hurts.   I can accept change, I know it is necessary and inevitable. I spend many moments of my life accepting it by challenging myself with variety and coloring outside the lines.  It’s an illusion which pacifies me most days.

One of the words which jumped out at me this morning was skydiving, which until recently I had held out hope of doing again.  Maybe not fully licensed, but even a couple of solo jumps just to satisfy my love of the freefall and the thrill of navigating terminal velocity.  Having not been able to jump in ten years because of the physical risk. I have held out for the day I might. My style is to accept limitations with all of the grace of a 2 year old in full tantrum.  Even when I hold it together on the outside, on the inside I am belly down, arms and legs swinging, wailing and screaming “NOOOOOOO”.  The word limitation and disability make me want to punch someone in the head.  I’m aware of how childish that is, but if you are looking for real, there it is.  Recently I have had to accept that the chances of me being under canopy again are slim to none. 

Early on in life we learn the silly game of crossing our fingers behind our back while saying an untruth, as though it has some kind of magic power to forgive and protect us.  My verbal version of this is “for now”.  It’s a ridiculous game I play, like someone else seeing your fingers crossed while they know you are lying to them.  It makes me feel better to say “for now” even though I know it might not be true.  It gives me relief from the absolute of saying never again.  So in fairness I should remove skydiving from my profile list, but that seems so permanent.  Though I have gotten up off the floor and stopped kicking and screaming, I will concede to no skydiving for now. 

After I lost Tanner this summer.  I was not exactly in a frame of mind to focus on the details and my blog profile.  My heart was broken and it still aches when I think about the hole he left behind.  When asked how many dogs I have, I still say three. Then I catch myself modifying to “two” and sometimes, not wanting to acknowledge he isn’t here anymore, I don’t bother to modify.  Explaining that I used to have three creates a lump in my throat making me incapable of speech or breathing.   So I let it go.  Soon I will have three dogs again and I am not sure how I will feel then.  It won’t be automatic to say four, yet Tanner will be in my heart as I answer, just as Bella still is.  I know it is just words on a screen yet I am reluctant to change it, so I leave it.  For now.

For now, I have two dogs and skydiving is not an option for me.  Like any other change, like any loss, living the moments are hard.  Even when it is re-living them.  The truth is when I was skydiving I wasn’t a runner.  And I spend far more time running than I ever did jumping, and I have traveled the world and met a world full of amazing people.  When I lost Bella, I wound up with two amazing dogs, who give me more joy and love than I thought possible.  The holes don’t stay empty, they get filled with other pieces of life and love.  And what they have been filled with has exceeded what I could have imagined.  As the holes have been filled, I have come to learn two very important things.  Knowing something else will come along and taking up some of the space, doesn’t do one damn thing for the ache I feel in the present as I walk through the moments.  The hole doesn’t exactly get filled in the same spot, it’s somewhere alongside of it. While it covers some of the emptiness, the trace of the is just visible enough to remind me of the ache.  It’s a faint outline of what used to be,  but it gives me the guts to say for now as I cross my fingers and move on.  

Fall Beauty in the Woods

There is no place I would rather train than on a trail, miles away from any noise or distractions.  I love taking deer trails just to see where they go and I love the thrill of discovering new places.  Yesterday was a perfect fall day to hang out in the woods exploring and spending time with my best friends.

Fall trail run photos

Lessons from a Little Boy and a Day at the Farm

 

Click here to see the rest of the pictures  


Although I always feel meloncholy as summer fades with the color of the leaves, I look forward to several October traditions.  A trip to the Little Farmer is one I get most excited about even after 15 years.  Luckily I got to bring Kaden this year and every corner of the farm becomes a new experience when shared with a 4 year old.

I was reminded of a couple of important lessons though....

Trust   
             Part 1. An old metal trough turned into a sink still looks like farm equiptment to a child and convincing him it was ok to wash his hands in it was quite a trick.  Finally after seeing it in action, he relented and had fun with it.  In his mind, he was not about to jump into something that didn't quite look right, he needed a bit more proof.
           Part 2.  There is a picture (above) of Kaden in full leap into my arms from the hay bale.  If you had been watching you would have seen the process of figuring out whether the giant stacks were sturdy.  After some physical proof, he decided he would climb them but with my help.  I was thrilled when it took only a few more minutes for him to start climbing on his own, scrambling to the top and yelling "Look at me".  The picture of him mid-leap doesn't tell the whole story, the story of promises.  To catch him, to promise him I wouldn't let him fall and to repeat each promise twenty times.  The look on his face as he jumped was priceless.  Lips scrunched and twisted, fierce concentration and blind trust.  I felt a twist in my chest part admiration for his bravery in jumping and part validation because there is nothing like the blind trust of an animal or child to make you feel like the best person in the world!
            Part 3.  Don't trust the weather forecast when you are heading to a farm and the storms are supposed to go around you.

Get Wet! 
 We could hear the thunder for a bit before it got to us and with the first couple of rumbles I didn't think too much of it.  My brother (also star photographer for the day) pulled up the radar and it still looked like it shouldn't be much of an issue.  The rumbling claps got a bit louder and the clouds a bit darker so we decided to head to the bakery barn but only after promising five times we would come back to the hay bales.  On our walk over to the bakery, the skies opened up and the words that come to my mind are torrential and downpour.  It was the kind of rain that forces you to pull over, because even the wipers can't keep up.  We made it to the barn which isn't a bad place to wait since it is filled with apples, pies and muffins.  Once our shopping was done, we tried waiting for  a bit along with too many other people under a small section of roof that jetted out toward the orchard.  As we waited, a tug on my hand pulled my attention down and Kaden timidly told me how much fun it would be to splash in the puddles and  play in the rain.
I knew what he meant, although now in my 40's,  one of my favorite times to run is when it is raining.  There is something soothing and magical about the feel of it, so whenever possible I grab my shoes and go.

My immediate response was "go for it!"  After checking my face to make sure I was serious he stuck his head out, then pulled back in.  Again, he tested the feel and stayed out a bit longer.  Then with one more encouragement from he, he was out and splashing, stomping,  and running in an effort to get as wet as possible.  Standing there watching him giggle and play having the time of his life, made me smile along with every adult standing there watching.  I had anticipated his next move, grabbing my hand and pleading with me to join him.  Grabbing him in my arms, flipping him over face to the sky I told him his goal was to catch as many raindrops with his mouth as he could.  He laid on his back as I ran him in a circle and the smiles on his face is printed in my heart forever.  Mouth wide open, half smiling and half catching, giggling and sticking his tongue out all at once, it was one of those moments which gets captured forever for him and for me.

 My mom sitting under the awning commented that when she was a kid, she used to love to play in the rain.  She could even remember where they went to play and what they did, telling the story with a smile on her face. As I thought about it later, smiling with the memory I thought about all the adults standing there smiling at him as we splashed.  No one joined us in our silly game of catching the raindrops, but I didn't expect them too.

I am sure for many the rain put an end to their day or ruined what their hopes had been for it.  Stopping by the animal pen one more time before we left I was wet and cold with a tiny hand holding mine asking why the goats were hiding and didn't they know how much fun it was to splash.

With no logical answer for his questions, I made up silly little boy answers and in the squeeze of his hand, felt the squeeze of my heart.  Through my sogginess and chill I was never more grateful that somehow I haven't grown up enough to join the other adults under the awning.  As adults many of us do a good job of talking about living life and finding time for the playful moments.   It can't be done under the awning and sheltered from the storm.