I think we can all say that 2020 was nothing but a dumpster fire.
For me, the fire burned deep and hard. On April 2, 2020 ... Honey passed from respiratory failure. No ... it wasn't COVID. It was listed as community spread pneumonia. But ... we were blessed to spend every minute together and we talked and laughed and loved those last few days together. And I cried to have lost the gift to world that was my Honey.
So now ... now I try to heal.
Finding myself alone on the farm has been a challenge. Winter always brings more challenges. Frozen water ... icy conditions ... drifts taller than I am. But with creative solutions, very good friends and the knowledge that I come from tough stock ... I have been getting by.
My love of flowers is deep in my heart ... but I have to admit that last year, gardening and farming was a struggle.
Every place I looked ... Honey was there. Yet ... he wasn't. The ache from my broken heart paralyzed me. What to do next? How to do it? And I struggled ... even with help ... to maintain this little farm.
So now .... now I try to heal.
I have discovered alot about myself in the quiet of this dark COVID winter. About my strength ... my faith ...my abilities ... and my needs. The world threw its worse at me last year .... and I survived. Maybe a bit worse for wear ... very tearful ... a little dented and bent ... but I survived.
Spring arrives in 6 or 7 weeks. With 12+ inches of fresh snow on the ground and sub-zero temperatures predicted, spring is never precise in Iowa. And some days ... like today ... it looks like it may never come.
But it will.
And hopefully, I will be ready to face it.
But for now ... now I try to heal