Friday, January 16, 2009

I Relate to 'The Widow Down By The Brook'

Marie and Cane (that's our great grandson, age 4) came to see us. Elbert enjoys Cane as Elbert has pretty much reverted back to childhood himself so the two of them get along fine. It is warm enough for the two of them to go outside and fill the bird feeders, with my help of course. Elbert's hands are shaky and he can't seem to find the opening to pour the seed into.
Marie brought me a book to read. It's by Mary MacNeil titled 'The Widow Down By The Brook'. It is a true story and I have always loved true stories but this one really plucks at my heartstrings. Mary's husband falls in love with an old barn out in the country in Connecticut. He buys it and they move in and start renovating it. It provides a place of peace for them both but it is a ton of hard work. Then he gets sick and dies and the gist of the story is that he has left his 44 year old widow to discover how to make a life and a home alone.

As I read, I saw glimpses of Elbert years ago when he traipsed to our country home in Alabama with his family in tow and our having to adjust to that new way of life. And, now, here I am, years and years older, with Elbert no longer involved in the day to day responsibilites and I am learning to make a new life and a home 'sort of alone'. In a way it is preparation for the eventuality of a day I probably will be all alone.

I think of this house and how it will be with me in it all by myself. It's a big house, probably too big. I may have to find a smaller place. I wouldn't like that. This house was that dream home I had longed for and it has been my home as no other ever has. I love the formality of the decor, the roominess, the sounds from the street, the sunroom which gives me a feeling of being both indoors and out. And, the sweet little yard that Elbert and I both enjoy so much.

Things are changing. I must get ready for what lies ahead. I must prepare.

2 comments:

Linda Jennings said...

This is a great photo.

A Colorful World said...

Nice post, Mom. I remember those days...