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I looked up at the half moon last night, and knew that the Full Frost Moon would be upon us soon. I wondered, will it frost that night, it that why it is called the Frost Moon?
It struck me then, only in early childhood do we still believe in the man in the moon, or that the moon is made of cheese. As we begin to learn the science of the moon, of our world, we then have the reality of it.
But, even knowing that, the magic of seeing the moon grow in the night skies, the mystical beauty of moonbeams rippling across the water, or the deepest blackest clearest of night skies filled with bright glittering stars, and a shiny sliver of a crescent moon, has not been lost to us.
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I started taking an anti-depressant medication a little over 2 weeks ago, and since that time, a portion of me has felt numb. I hope that passes soon. The other side effect that has bothered me the most has been a nagging lower back ache, but so far...at least most days, I can grin and bear it. I had thought it had stolen some of my inner sensuality away too, but, I noticed a man's hands this afternoon, they were a delight to me, strong looking, with long dexterous fingers. Nope that part of me is still there. ~grin~
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Life goes on, I still play the waiting game. Nothing new has happened in the divorce process. It all seems to be happening so slowly. Or, maybe it is my own procrastination, putting off the unsavory.
I have taken very little from my old home, to bring here in my new. I think it is time. My soon-to-be-ex is taking my children away for the Thanksgiving holiday, and so, I am nerving myself up to request time in my old house to go through and sort out photographs, some for him to keep, some for me. Christmas decorations too, as the holidays are on my mind. There are some tree ornaments that feel as if they are only mine. Many years ago, someone gave me a Santa ornament, shaped like a star, it struck my whimsical side, and I must've enthused quite a bit about it, because last Christmas I realized I have well over a dozen Santa Claus and star ornaments, some fun and whimsical, some delicate little beauties. I have decided I would like them to decorate my Christmas tree this year. In fact, for the first time in several years, I am actually looking forward to finding the perfect (and affordable) fresh cut tree to place in the corner of my living room. I am looking forward to the house being scented with pine.
I have also been thinking about...trying to come up with a new Christmas tradition, or reviving an old one. All the years of our marriage, Christmas Eve has been our little nuclear family's special night. But that will be no more.
I asked my children to help me think of something new that would be special for us. Until a few years ago, one of our Christmas Eve traditions was that I read them T'was the Night Before Christmas before they both went to bed. I have, or had, a lovely hardbound copy of the story, it now rests on the bookshelves at my old house. Yep, I do think it is time, for me to gather up some of the items from there, those few things, which lend me special feelings.
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Life moves on, a part of me has a hard time believing I have been living here for over six months. I realized the other day...I don't miss him...I keep wondering...will I? If so, what is it that will make it so? Will it be some maintenance issue with the house that I, or Mr. Son, or Miss Daughter cannot fix ourselves? Will it be something small and inconsequential that suddenly conjures up a warm loving memory? Or, will I never really miss him, because there is too much pain embedded into most memories?
Mostly though, I feel as if I am on my way to a healing of sorts. I have partially read books scattered about everywhere, and no one complains that I read too much.
I have also arrived at the conclusion, I am aware again, more aware than I have been for the past two years. I observe my surroundings in detail that was missing in some way. I notice, and hold onto the simple little unimportant things that open up a sense of wonder and awe, like the varied shapes of the clouds in the sky, the many shades of blues, pinks, purples, or oranges in the sunsets. For a few weeks, we had three young raccoons that spent the hour between dusk and full night playing in the trees and, along a small section of road near my driveway, I think they enjoyed the lingering warmth left in the road bed from the day's sunshine. I miss them, now they have stopped. (Although, I am glad they no longer do, I was afraid one or more would get hit by a car, but I still miss seeing them each night on my way home). I can still lose myself in the sight of hawks gliding across the sky. I thrilled at the sound of an eagle screeching in the early dawn just a few days ago. I heard the wild turkeys gobbling in the woods last week, that too, gave me a little thrill, just knowing they are there.
Life moves on, sometimes it takes a turn we do not think we want, sometimes it moves in a direction we don't expect.
I feel as if my eyes truly are open again, more so than they have been for a long long time. I have this very strong feeling, that as long I continue to search within and without, as long as I keep myself open, as long as I keep learning, as long as I always see and feel the many wonders of our world, I know I will be OK.
Although, I gotta say...a huge warm hug wouldn't hurt either.
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