A wind storm with torrential rains has been battering the Pacific Northwest since the winds began picking up Saturday. Though the winds howl and we have to slosh through water once we leave the porch steps we are fortunate to be in an area that is somewhat sheltered from the worst winds. As the wind lashes and shakes the house and whip the trees I am grateful for the wind storm of November 12th :
We were ripped wide awake shortly after five that morning of the 12th as a huge part of one of our willow trees split away, shortly followed by the sound of our closest neighbor’s shingles flying off the roof, some hitting the side of our house by our bedroom. Next a long grinding shriek as part of their metal roof peeled off and winged into the backyard. At that we decided our bedroom was not a safe place.
The blackness of predawn cloaked all the damage until morning light showed our very tattered willows, with a section of the corner willow flattening two neighbors’ fences. (The neighbor behind us had wanted us to leave them alone when Ed had planned to remove them last summer; their family loved having them hang over the cedar fence and shading their yard.) The result of that windy morning is four willow trees no longer shedding and hurling branches in strong winds. Sad as it was to watch them cut down we rest much better for they’d grown too quickly and had never been strong trees.
A bit over a week ago Hillbilly Dave brought his years of know-how to dropping the willows safely. Every tree was trimmed then cut and dropped precisely where he planned. One tree needed some extra intervention to coax it into place.
We will miss the willows. But the garden will love the extra space and sunshine. A cedar and a fir tree had also struggled in the shadow of the willows and they’d been planted several years before the willow shoots had been thrust into the ground some 25 years ago. Now they should be able to grow and expand.
The hairpin wrap is almost done. There are ends to weave in before blocking and drying.
A friend has been through one of the most difficult times a mother may face: the loss of a child. The wrap is insignificant in the face of her sorrow yet I hope it will bring a small measure of consolation. Much did I seek the ears of God as I worked on it asking that He wrap K in an enveloping comfort of His very real presence. At first I wanted to make it as quickly as possible but there wasn’t the time to let responsibilities slide. And I had the sense of a need to wait. Then I received a phone call; she wanted me and another friend of hers to play violins, along with two other co-workers from the library where we’d worked. The Service of Consolation took place Friday evening. The place was packed; people stood two deep along the walls in an effort to show the family they cared and that they too grieved the life of a bright, friendly young man who was plagued by endless rounds of deep depression. He reached the point where he felt he could no longer handle the mental fight and the lack of a normal life for a twenty year old.
He is in heaven: he leaned heavily on Jesus through the long teen years of mental illness. When he was able to he took deep comfort in reading his Bible and memorizing verses; in knowing that God was real and that God loved him just as he was. God was his anchor. Still, we can’t deny the heartbreaking tragedy (nor should we). We grieve that meds and intervention didn’t help. There are no easy answers in this fallen world. The grief is real. A life was cut short because of mental anguish that became unbearable.