Mailboxes And Broken Taillights

I ran into the mailbox this morning.
Smacked right into it.
It's Monday, only that doesn't matter.
Where was my head?
I don't know.
That doesn't matter, either.
I made sure I wasn't going to hit my vehicle as I backed down the driveway,
and totally forgot about the mailbox.
What made it all worse?
I was driving Caleb's SUV.
Oh,
I know he wouldn't be upset about that.
Making a dent in his vehicle?
Not a big deal.
It's how he was about things like that.
However, I know
he'd be making fun of me for hitting the mailbox mounted on a huge fence post.
The mailbox has only been there, like forever.
Yup, he probably had a good laugh as he watched me...and my inital reaction.

I didn't think it was funny.
My first words were not, "Oh my goodness," either.
I drove out to our friend's auto body shop, and he looked at it.
"That's not so bad," he said.
He was right.
But, it was the idea that I damaged Caleb's vehicle - and broke the taillight.
"We'll get it taken care of. It won't take much." He smiled.
I joked, wondering if there was an ordinance about mailboxes.
Maybe I'd move ours to the middle of the yard, now that I loosened the big post.
As I laughed, I brushed tears from my face.

Sometimes it just happens that way.
I may think I'm doing ok, then tears will come.
I felt bad about hurting the vehicle, but I know it's fixable - and yet,
I cried on my way home.

A friend told me she'd been watching birds struggle against the whipping, high winds we had here last week.
They'd try to fly a certain direction, and the wind would just blow them back.
They wouldn't give up
but, would try again and again.

Thinking about those birds
fighting against the wind...

The winds of life can be that way,
knocking us down, pushing us back, making it impossible to breathe -
making a wreck out of our order of things.

Somehow we get up every morning.
We brush ourselves off, pull our hair back - because styling is out of the question anyway,
and put one foot in front of the other.
Step by step.
Head down, pushing against the wind.
No, it's not easy.
But, we do it.

It's tough everyday, as I've said before.
Missing my son, and the huge hole in our lives without him...
there are no words.
I've met so many families on this same journey-
fighting against the turbulence of life, missing loved ones.

I'm thinking we all have mailbox days, where - Smack!
We run into some wall (or mailbox.)
We have a setback.
Maybe we break or damage something special,
and the tears fall.

Here we are, whipped but not beaten.
Yes, we are sad, but not destroyed.
Pushing ahead even though it may not look like it.

Through my tears today, I can see Caleb's smile, hear his laugh and the way he'd say,
"Ahhhh."

It's going to be ok.

The love lives on.

The Mailbox and Time Difference

So, I'm backing out the of the driveway and...
SMACK.
My first words were not, "Oh, my goodness."
I thought I'd drive Caleb's vehicle,
and was making sure I wasn't going to back into my Yukon.
However, I failed to watch out for the mailbox.

Our mailbox is heavy-duty...planted in the ground with a huge fence post, better known as part of a telephone pole.
No damage to the mailbox.

I drove out our friend's auto body shop right away.
It's Caleb's vehicle, and I'm feeling so bad.
Grant looked at the damage, and said, "Oh, that's not so bad."
I was so glad he thought so.
It helped because of course, to me, it was horrible.
Caleb's vehicle, and I had to do that.
I'm glad I could go somewhere to someone we know.
I know he'll do a good job.

He explained what he'd need to do,
and tears start rolling down my face.
I thank him, joke about hoping the city doesn't have an ordinance for mailboxes because I want to move ours to the middle of our yard.
When I drive away, tears flood my face, and I'm sobbing.

It's how it is.
You just don't know how things are going to affect you.

Oh, I realize some shake their heads with wonder.
After all, it's been over a year now. 'She really should so be over it. She really needs to move on, get a life, and get out more.'

I think of my friends on the east coast. They are on a different time zone.
No big deal.
California is an hour behind. Dallas is an hour ahead. Virginia Beach is two hours ahead.
Nobody questions that.

Since February 2013, I exist in a different time zone - completely.
It is how it is.
I know I've said it before, but time as I knew it before that day, doesn't exist anymore.
That's the best explanation I have.
The calendar changes, and I know only because my phone reminds me what day it is, what month it is.
Everything passes in a fog.

Only now, in this fog there is an ice storm.
If you've ever walked in an ice storm, those jagged pieces of ice sting your face, hands or anything exposed.
The frozen season of last year is thawing a little, and pieces of raw hurt surface, making for some difficult days.

Making it through, is what we do.
Someone told a friend of mine she needed to 'suck it up.'
Oh, but we do suck it up.
Everyday.
It's a choice, a conscious decision to get out of  bed.
We suck it up by going on day by day.

My confidence is in God, and His grace.
He keeps me going.
His grace is sufficient for me.