Wednesday, December 4, 2013

December Challenges - Day 4

 
 
Jamie asks us to share the weather today.
We are lucky here in Waterloo region to have escaped the extremes of snow and freezing rain hitting parts of Canada this week. We had some rain (!) but the temperatures are a mild 6 C. Can't complain about that.
I walked outside in a long sleeved shirt and captured a few photos around the yard - even saw a chickadee.
 
 
                                             (A puddle of rainwater)
 
 
                                          (grey sky, chickadee, drops of rain)
 
The weather all over North America has been extreme this past fall. Scary really when we really don't know what to expect. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Kat states:
 
This past year, we have all experienced so much loss and experienced so much grief -- in relationships, through sickness and death, from mental illness or abuse, because of finances, even due to the need for healthy change. 

It is good to honor those shifts, to fully feel them, so that we can let go of what needs surrendered, and remember what is worthy of our love and gratitude.


What have you lost, what are you grieving?
 
 
What I have lost this year is my teaching career. I retired at the end of June and it really wasn't til September that I realized just how much teaching defined me, filled my days and gave me so much joy (ok frustration too). I am doing some tutoring but it is not the same.  I miss the sharing of books, of helping young ones learn.
I also gave away or sold or threw out a large majority of my teaching books, units and files. I still have some to process through, but it hurt when teachers didn't want some of what I used for my teaching.
I am still grieving the loss of my Mom. It has been 5 years and the grief isn't as sharp. But Christmas is a time when I miss her the most.

11 comments:

Tink said...

I hope the winter won't be too extreme for you! Lovely weather pics.

Sherry Smyth said...

I miss my mother every Christmas and she's been gone since 1997. I don't think we ever stop missing them. I'm going to light a candle this year to remind me that my mother is with me. And I'll do one for my sister as well.

As for Waterloo -- lovely spot. My older son went to Laurier for 4 years...and he loved it too! xo

Dale Anne Potter said...

Hope no extreme weather for you Beverley as we have family in & around London.
Sorry about missing your Mom - she's right there in your heart and misses you also!

Kate Robertson said...

I miss my mom too, I don't think that ever goes away.My Mom died on Dec 17 1999 so it been a long time but still miss her. We've had power loss and cold weather today.
Kate

Jen said...

Those are some lovely pictures!

It is difficult when people don't value what we put our time and souls into isn't it? When I left education (after only five years the first time), I knew I wasn't going to have room to store all of my things and I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to the classroom (I just did this fall!) and it was difficult to let all of those things go, but even more difficult, as you say to have people not want them when I knew they worked so well.

girlunwinding said...

Seems to be a lot of grey and wet weather out there today, no matter where you live. Hope we all get some sunshine on our side soon
~Dawn

Jamie Ridler Studios said...

Looks like we're sharing the same weather! Love that picture of the chickadee.

Teena in Toronto said...

We had a nice but gray day in Toronto today.

Jen Trulson said...

Love the chickadee pic! Stay warm.

Kat McNally said...

Wow! Those are two huge losses to your identity (your mama and your career). I can only imagine the time it would take to recalibrate.
I wish for you a new year of healing and wholness. x

Kara Chipoletti Jones said...

Love that you and the chickadee were out enjoying the light today :) Sending supportive and gentle vibes for all the ways grief pops up -- in general -- but yeah, when the holidays make it a bit harder, too. I'm always surprised in my own experiences how I'll be thinking how much I love that person and then the grief swims in because I'm missing them, too. Layers and layers.