A quick catch-up and some thoughts on Hjemthra

Greetings to all my fellow Virtual Villagers. I began a post to let you all know what was happening with me, but that is on my phone and I can’t find it now. Who knows? Anyway, my apologies for being absent for so long.

Our Mum has been in hospital (except for 8 days in early September) since late August. My RN sister flew up the day after Mum came home after those 8 days and has remained here with us. We are all so lucky to have her here with her tireless diligence. Without her knowledge, care and optimistic approach, Mum would not likely be doing so well as she is. It’s been a long journey and most of it is not mine to tell, but where it impacts my own journey I think it’s ok to share a bit. After some bumps along the Healing Way, Mum has been slowly improving and there is a good chance she will be discharged before Christmas, although whether to a rehab facility or directly back to her condo is still unknown. My sister and I have shared Mum’s care around the clock since early September, with the bulk of the care being given by my sister. I will never be able to properly thank her for all that she continues to do.

In the meantime, there has not been much time on the computer and I have not known what to post, so have let posting lapse for a time. I will be back, though.

I have done almost no crafting of any sort since my Aunty passed away, although the hot pink ‘barn cardi’ is now back from its stay with my friends the Crafties, and is in the living room where I see it daily. Somehow, I have not picked it up to complete the sleeves and the button bands. I will, though.

A few weeks ago my last remaining uncle passed away and now, of the 10 siblings, only my Mum and one younger sister, now 90, remain. It’s been hard to face the passing of that generation. I don’t have a problem with birth, or death. Both are part of life to me. But I have been undergoing, and for some time  now, recurring bouts of ‘Hjemthra’, the Norwegian word for a particular sort of homesickness. Not just the longing to be back in one’s house, but a more generalized longing for a particular time, place and situation. I expect most people experience this, especially as we move on past the mid-century point and see the path ahead shortening as the part we have traversed becomes the major part of our journey. This time of year can trigger it, too, I suppose, although for me, it’s more about associations. Scents, sounds, textures, a bit of music or glimpse of a painting . . . sometimes just a child’s chuckle or a horse whickering somewhere. Bird’s wings overhead at twilight . . .

Anyway, as George Harrison said, “All things must pass” and so they shall. But I am in no rush to leave behind that which I treasure, nor to move toward the door that I know will open on the next stage of my existence.

I have been catching up with a few of you via your blogs but I have much reading ahead of me still. I know you will be patient with me as I wander through the village with my phone in hand showing me your cottage or mansion and giving me a glimpse into your life here.

I stopped by Serendipity Farm and a photo of pyrethrum daisies triggered the memory of  when I was nearly seven; with three brothers and my RN sister on her way. That summer we lived in a small ‘shack’ as we called it. About 10 feet by 15 feet, with a wood stove for heat and cooking/baking, kerosene lamps for light, a tin tub and washboard for doing laundry and an outhouse our only ‘facility’. I remember much about that time, but today I remembered sitting in the grass of the meadow that lay between our shack and the one where my Dad’s father lived. My Dad’s next older brother (married to my Mum’s next older sister) lived with their only child, a son, in a third shack a bit further up the dirt road. Anyway, the boys were playing nearby and I was sitting with my mother as she taught me to make a daisy chain from the field daisies and then join the ends to make myself a daisy crown. The colours and the scent of the daisy stems is as clear as day, even now.

I stopped by The Contented Crafter’s place, too, to finally leave a comment about her kindness and creativity  in spreading love and light to so many, in such varied locations. I was fortunate enough to have checked in with Pauline in time to vote in her Give-Away and was delighted, but not surprised, to see that she ended up sending simpler light-catching danglers to each of the nominees. And another to a randomly-chosen commenter, too. She is a Light-catcher herself and I can tell you that she has brought light into some dark days for me, even without knowing she did so. Her example inspires me so much.

On to Quarter Acre Lifestyle, with Wendy’s news that she has left her former employment and will be making soap for a living. Along with many other wonderful things. I have used some of her soap (although most of it is still ‘someplace’ as we never did get fully unpacked after the move and my things reside in four different locations now) and it is wonderful. I know she will do amazingly well in her new life.

Next a quick stop at the Farmlet and while I was reading a new post appeared, bringing tears and another bout of Hjemthra. It is so interesting, isn’t it, that even as we acknowledge that all changes, we somehow are surprised by, and resistant to, the experience of changes that touch our lives. I’m glad there are other ways to stay in touch with my virtual friends. I embarrassed myself on the Farmlet, too, by typing in the name of Wendy’s husband when I knew perfectly well what Christi’s husband’s name actually is. I’m lucky that Christi has a sense of humour and a lot of patience.

I checked in with my virtual hippy daughter, too, the Rabid Little Hippy, but there was no new post to read today.

There are so many of you still to touch base with; I’ll be by, but I can’t promise when or how often yet. But I haven’t forgotten any of you and you are all included in my prayers as well as so often in my thoughts.

I have no photos, as I haven’t yet taken time to download them from my camera. I’m hoping to be back on track by the New Year, but time will tell.

The news has been full of fear-enhancing images and words, but the Village is full of those who turn their backs on darkness and their faces to the Light and then find ways to multiply that light in their own lives and in the lives of others.

I shall be back, and, in the meantime, stay well, all of you; find time to be creative, even if only in some small way; forget about the seeming darkness; every age has had its dark time, but it’s from those times that amazing Light has sprung. Discard your ragged cloak of fears; let it compost under some wee bush or lofty tree. Put on a new garment of light and rainbows, find a small way to increase the Light in the world every day. And when Hjemthra knocks at the door of your consciousness, invite it in; sit by the fire with a cup of tea and a few treats and listen to its stories of much-loved times gone by. Then, with that to inspire you, move back into the world and do what you can to make today a time that will someday bring feelings of Hjemthra to someone else. Hjemthra isn’t only sad, I find, it’s inspiring and motivating, too.