Days passing as a snail

I imagine, no, I KNOW that we all have hard days. Ones that make you doubt yourself, your abilities and even your time. There is much to be said about being quiet and not getting worked up about our own selves. It is something I need to re-learn every day. I love quiet mornings that I don't have to be anywhere in a hurry. I love waking up with a cup of coffee (we are good, comfortable, old friends) and feeling the sun come up over the lake to splash its warmth is a welcomed part of my day with a morning read. Even with that little utopia, today, this is what I feel like:

Today though, there is a hurt inside. An ache that won't go away. Some days it is easier to keep a stiff upper lip and ignore it, but not today. Today I'm not strong. Today I'm weak. Today it's hard to accomplish anything. We can all expect days like this, but this kind of day is especially hard. It's going to be 6 weeks before I see my Fiance. He's working long and crazy weird hours, I don't have any more vacation time except the 3 day saved for convention and can't go see him, he's tired, I miss him, wedding plans are difficult and stressful, it's cold and snowy here still, I'm trying to pack and there is no room to store it, and we're trying to do this all 700 miles apart. Keeping a love burning, a love growing stronger, keeping each other encouraged, hoping that the next 14 weeks pass quickly for the day we never have to be apart. It is hard.

Talking to my other mother last night she told me that there was time in her newly married life in the Alaska bush when they took stock of their account and money jar and all they had was 9 pennies. Think of it! 9 Lincoln's. That isn't very much. But she was happy and content being there with her husband and the adventures of the years building a cabin, keeping a garden and canning and freezing, and making trips once a year to the grocery store in Anchorage. That is love, they had each other.

My own mother has done the same; came to Kalispell to teach after living in London and abroad, married my dad and they were going to be gone 3 months to Alaska for dad to finish out working on the Slope for Neighbors Drilling. She moved with a cardboard box, her purse and two hot pink suitcases. Dad left her the day after they arrived for 3 weeks to work his shift. They were there six years upon which they moved back to the family ranch in Montana with me (8 months old) and struggled along wondering how to feed a growing family, running a sawmill, ranching, dad breaking his neck, not knowing if he'd walk again and mom 6 months pregnant with #3 having to water the pigs by 5 gallon buckets, farming, and living in a little cabin we later dubbed as The Rat House. That is love, they had each other.

So, there aren't too many differences of hurts and worries, just thirty-some years apart. I imagine those two women having to be strong and having some hard days. I was the oldest and had no concept of there being hard days, poor times, and dealing with the burdens of life. I just knew love from them and was wrapped up in the cocoon of it along with my siblings. They had to sacrifice because they did love.They are some of the most amazing women I've ever known and if I have half of their pluck and drive and ability to love, I will be a good wife. We do not know what is in our future, but we know Who holds the future. That will be a comfort no matter what kind of days there are.