Several hours ago I put a homemade frozen dinner in the microwave for lunch before mowing the lawn. While it heated, I made the mistake of taking something to the garage to put away. I ended up cleaning the garage; a job that needed doing but not necessarily today. I try to look for God's purpose in all things, particularly the unexpected. Sometimes it is very clear and others, not so obvious. Today I realized that it is getting more comfortable for me to be in Bob's "spaces" for longer periods of time. (It's true what 'they' say; that grief does not go away but we gradually learn how to experience once again the full realm of other feelings simultaneously. Or, as I like to say, "along side of it.")
As I sorted, rearranged, swept and vacuumed, I was flooded with warm memories. The story of our lives unfolded in front of me as I noticed grandparents' tools and other items that had once belonged to grandparents and parents. The most vivid recollections, though, were triggered by the paint drippings and, in some cases, old spills. The paint trail is a tell-tale sign of the many projects that were 'born' in that garage over the years. The John Deere green and yellow are the more recent 'drippings.' Some splotches that go back 20+ years are the silver & blue from a Jr. Prom project that was assembled there. (Although...I don't believe those colors got there by accident.)
That has been my unexpected gift for today. The Gift of the Garage, I shall call it. Just think, we can just as easily miss those gifts. One way we miss them, of course, is by proclaiming ourselves "too busy." Another way would be to require such perfection that those symbolic 'biographies' are quickly erased because we look upon them as blemishes. I, for one, am so very thankful to have learned to recognize their poignant value as they were happening.
The gifts are there. We just have to look for them.
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