Blurred images are not something I usually post here. I like those that are focused or at least give you a sense of the depth of field…photographically speaking.
However…I am not speaking as a photographer today.
I chose this image because it more accurately represents my vision today: a bit fogged, rather blurred, and maybe just watery because of all the tears I have cried.
Just when I think I have regained some control the tears come again.
Mark conducted his last worship service here this morning. He cried from the first moments, from his first words, and that means we all cried along with him. I had begun my tears earlier this morning as I wrote a note to my dear friend.
Goodbye is never easy. Hello is much preferred. (A card I received a couple weeks ago was all about “goodbye” but the word on the front said “badbye”.How I understand that word now!)
Yesterday I was asked by a very special friend to photograph her artful decorations that she spent hours preparing for a wedding reception. This pot of mums you see here was part of that. She and I had worked together for several years in the same office, our cubicles occupying the same room. We found that creating art was a good release for each of us in our own way, and over time we shared each others projects in photos and fun conversation.
It was really cool to see her finished product at the reception venue. When I was finished taking photos we said our official goodbye…and cried.
Then I participated in a “Paint and Partake” event at another friend’s home last night. Good food, lots of fall colors, painting an image of a fall tree, and so much good conversation and laughter. I came home with a painting that I will call “The Farewell Tree” because I know I won’t be painting for a while.
Unless you count painting the walls of our new home. There will be lots of that.
In my crazy way of looking at life I see that this all connects. Creating friendships, sharing meals, saying the words from the heart that tell what we mean to each other. Painting art and enjoying the process. Perhaps those connections come because we are being our true selves in those times, living from a place of love, listening quietly to the nudges of our hearts.
And then there is the phone call from the new friends in that new place that came later on. In that new place there are people making preparations for our arrival. A yard is being mowed, weeds pulled, bushes trimmed, garden spot being tended to, and loving prayerful thoughts being uttered. They know that today is a tough day for us while they simultaneously are anxious for our arrival there.
My vision is kind of blurred today, yes.
This image keeps coming to mind like that in a science fiction show: a person is reaching through a wall that looks like liquid silver, touching it ever so carefully because they are not sure what it will do. And I’m that person. Standing on one side, in the close of a chapter of a book, tentatively reaching through that substance and touching the other side…turning to read the first page of that new chapter.
Seeing through the tears I see that this is a beautiful place we will leave. And we will see much of the same beauty and love, possibly through more tears, when we reach our destination.