Remembering my Monet Trip

September 17, 2007

So… I was just thinking about my trip to Cleveland at the end of May and realizing how tremendously blessed I was on that trip.

1 – I had no money to make the trip, but was able to go. People’s generousity when it comes to things that aren’t absolute necessity amazes me. The trip was so incredibly good for my heart, but my life certainly didn’t depend upon it. Yet others freely gave to make the trip happen.

2 – My roommate let me borrow her glasses. That’s a big deal. I don’t think I could do that. (My glasses have been recently recovered, by the way. They were found by the unstopable team of Amanda Beattie and my gushy flat-head shark. Way to go,  you two!)

3 – The amazing Lauren sacrificed time and money to make the last-minute trip with me. Having that time with Lauren was actually one of the great blessings of the trip. It had been a while since we connected, so it was good to have all that time in the car to talk and such. I think that girl has to be one of the best road-trip-buddies out there.

4 – People covered my shifts and my sets. It’s not always easy to find replacements around here.

5 – I am still amazed by the fact that the exhibit was extended an extra week so that I was even able to see it. That was so crazy how it all worked out. It almost feels like God just dropped the trip in my lap. It was such a tremendous blessing. 

6 – The art was great. I thoroughly enjoyed it. And I let myself buy a few random things to remember the trip. Like my Water Lilies journal (part of the triptych that made me discover this exhibit) and my little Monet note pad. They remind me of the trip and they remind me of my mom.

I’ve been remembering her a lot today. The thoughts are somewhat mournful and not without pain… but they are not harshly negative or heart-wrenching today. Just a lot of memories of things we talked about doing but never got the opportunity to do together. A lot of memories of things we used to do together.

I miss that woman so much. Part of me is still amazed that I’ve figured out how to live my life without her. I am so grateful for the relationship that we had. I am so grateful for the times that we DID share together.

I so wish that I could just hear her thoughts on so many situations in my life right now. I’m walking through a lot of stuff that I don’t know how to wade through. I probably would have completely disagreed with about 95% of what she said (mostly because that’s how our conversations worked half of the time when she was giving input on my life)… but then would have come around to see the wisdom in her words by the time it was all said and done.

I kind of want to go to the Nelson-Atkins museum to just sit in front of the huge water lilies painting and cry. Remembering good moments with people I loved but lost in one way or another. Waiting for the resurrection. Waiting for the day when God heals all that is broken and restores that which is lost. Waiting for the day that all creation is groaning for.

I still need to go to St. Louis. I still need to see the third part of the triptych that has its other pieces in Cleveland and here in KC.

I’ve written other blogs lately… but they consist of heart stuff of a nature that needs to be carefully censored. So they are taking a bit longer to make it out into Blogland.

I’m also just having a lot of trouble writing lately. Words have not been so cooperative with me. They do that to me sometimes. They are stubborn and refuse to work with me. Oh how I love them and hate them at once. If only I were a better writer. Then, perhaps, we would get along well.


One comment

  1. Good to hear about the glasses.

    And the rest of the words are wonderful. Yes, your words are wonderful and as far as I can tell, y’all seem to be getting along quite well. Enough with the “if only I were a better writer.” Yeah, well, whatever. You, me and the rest of the planet; the difference is that most of them don’t care. Just write. It’s good. Believe it and don’t worry.

    Caught by surprise by the fresh rawness of emotion as I wrote an email to Alicia T. It still seems funny and improbable that that continues to happen.

    Ok, enough; maybe I’ll unpack more later . . .

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