Share Four Somethings: July 2022

If I had to choose one word to describe the July that we’ve experienced here in Kansas, it would have to be hot.

There’s been way too much humidity for my comfort level, but every so often, that clears away and the dry heat reminds me of how summers used to be here when I was a kid. It’s sort of like going outside into a furnace, but it beats the humidity, in my opinion.

Enough talk about the weather, though. Once again, it’s time to Share Four Somethings with Heather Gerwing. Starting with …

• Something Loved

No matter how hot it is during the day, I always find myself outside after supper, deadheading my petunia planters. Even when I see chewed-up flowers and tiny black spots on the leaves—sure signs of insect damage, though I don’t know which kind—there’s something supremely satisfying and relaxing about perusing every pot, seeking out the spent blooms and gently tugging them off the plants.

• Something Gleaned

There seems to be a trend among the books I’ve been reading lately. The Extraordinary Deaths of Mrs. Kip by Sara Brunsvold is a novel about a woman dying in a fictional nursing home (that just so happens to be located in the city where I live), and the cub reporter assigned to write her obituary who learns much more than she bargained for in the process.

Old Friends by Tracy Kidder is a tender yet heavily researched account of the lives and interactions of two men who are roommates in an actual nursing home in western Massachusetts. Finally, The Longing for Home by Frederick Buechner is, as the inside cover says, a book of recollections and reflections designed to “illuminate our own understanding of home as both our place of origin and our ultimate destination.”

I can’t say why I happened to be reading these three books at precisely the same time, but the overall effect has been sadly sweet. And also—regarding Buechner’s thoughts about home and heaven, in particular—hope-filled and empathetic.

On the “connection between the home we knew and the home we dream”:

“I believe that what we long for most in the home we knew is the peace and charity that, if we were lucky, we first came to experience there,” he writes, “and I believe it is that same peace and charity we dream of finding once again in the home that the tide of time draws us toward. The first home foreshadows the final home, and the final home hallows and fulfills what was most precious in the first.”

And about how, ultimately, we all have the same story:

“Our stories are all stories of searching,” Buechner says. “We search for a good self to be and for good work to do. We search to become human in a world that tempts us to be less than human or looks to us to be more. We search to love and be loved. And in a world where it is often hard to believe in much of anything, we search to believe in something holy and beautiful and life-transcending that will give meaning and purpose in the lives we live.”

• Something Saved

As it starts to sink in that Molly will be a senior with only one more year at home full-time, I’ve felt the urge to go through all the plastic tubs in the basement that contain memorabilia from my daughters’ lives so far. I’ve done this before, but this time I’m trying to think about it from the perspective of my future self, as well as my girls’ future selves.

What will mean the most in 10 or 20 years? Are there things that nobody cares about anymore that we can donate or throw away?

I know I’ll hang on to special baby clothes, favorite books and some of the girls’ more timeless toys. But what about all the elementary school art projects, writing samples and children’s music CDs?

Aside from a few pieces of furniture from my parents’ home, the only artifacts I have from my own childhood are school papers I saved myself and a few letters and drawings my mom sent my aunt along the way. I think it would have meant something to me if my parents had saved a few more things from my childhood, so I want to do that for my girls.

But who can predict what will mean something to them when they are my age, or some other age?

If you’ve been in this spot, I’d love to get your thoughts. I know everyone is different, but if you have grown children, what did you save from their growing-up years that has a lot of sentimental value—to you or to them? What do you wish you had saved, or wish that your own parents had saved?

• Something Achieved

In the last year or so, I grew out my bangs, which might be considered an achievement in some circles. Thing is, thanks to my voluminous locks and smallish head, I never once wore my hair completely down—it was just too overwhelming and, more recently, too hot.

On top of that, every time I looked in the mirror with my hair pulled back, I simply didn’t recognize myself. Maybe I’d had bangs for too long prior to growing them out. Perhaps I’m struggling to accept the fact I’m getting older and my face reflects that.

Either way, I finally decided I’d had enough. After hemming and hawing my way through several hair appointments (my stylist liked my pulled-back hair much better than I did), I took the plunge and got bangs again.

It took my curly mane a while to adjust, and we still have some tweaking to do with the style. But I feel like myself again when I look in the mirror, so I’m going to call that an achievement.

• • • 

Now it’s your turn. Have you read any good books lately? Have any advice about black spots on petunias or how to decide what to keep when you’re going through your kids’ old stuff? Ever grown out your bangs only to cut them off again? Please share the comments, along with any other highlights from the last month of your life.

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Share Four Somethings, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth