What sorrow?

What sorrow can I cast on Him?

I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry

Hank Williams

Hear that lonesome whippoorwill
He sounds too blue to fly
That means he's lost the will to live
I'm so lonesome I could cry
Did you ever see a night so slow
As time goes draggin' by
The moon just went behind the clouds

To hide its face and cry
The silence of a falling star
Lights up a purple sky
And as I wonder where you are
I'm so lonesome I could cry

I'm lonely. I haven't lost the will to live, but I am lonely.
I'm lonely for girlfriends. I'm lonely for neighbors over the back fence, chatting as we rake our leaves or needing a cup of sugar, or hey do you have an onion I can borrow?
I'm lonely for couples friends.
We have seating for 16 on our back patio and the only thing occupying any of those seats are Squirrels, birds and spiders.
I'd like to be friends with some of the mothers at my grandsons school for play dates and all that rot.
When school ended last May, I gave out my name, address and cell phone # to two of the mothers that would stand near me in the pick up line after school. Both of their boys had been in my grandsons class. I approached them and said that I would love to get the boys together over the Summer. I offered to meet with them at the school playground to give the boys a chance to play.
They did not offer me their addresses or phone numbers but still I was hopeful that they would call, since they had my number.

We (I) waited all Summer for the phone to ring. It didn't. The grand kids and I took a long walk around the neighborhood several times, trying to spot where some of the kids might live.
Now, mind you, I didn't do this in a creeping stalker kind of way.
I (we) simply walked the neighborhood looking at the houses and yards whilst listening for the sound of children laughing or splashing or playing ball or even talking. We heard nothing.
It was as if our entire neighborhood had turned into an old folks community.
Where were all the people? Where were all the kids? Why was there no noise?
We saw no bike riders, no kids splashing each other with the hose, nobody drawing chalk on the driveway, no hide-n-seekers, nobody running to meet the ice cream truck. No little kids in blow-up pools or hopping scotch or roller skating or skate boarding.
The houses were all quiet and the gardens were all well tended.
But there wasn't a shred of evidence that any children lived in these neighborhoods.
Where is everybody? What are they doing? Why do I not hear or see a soul?

I started to entertain the idea that perhaps our community had decided to hire someone like the Child Catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
I waited to hear an elder yell at me from a shuttered window-
"Fraulein! Schnell schnell bitte, hide zee kinder"!

So we remained by ourselves all Summer. We went to the beach and the water park, the dollar store, McDonald's, the local ice cream shop, my daughters house to play with their cousins and marvel at her Koi pond, went boating with Uncle Matt, fishing with grandpa, swimming in my sisters pool. They were taken tent camping and to carnivals and to fireworks. I signed them up for the Summer Reading Club at our local library. We went to our local Nature Center and saw Butterfly's, and a live working beehive, frogs and Humming Birds, Hawks and Chipmunks and painted turtles.
It rained a ton in the beginning of Summer so we stayed inside and played board games, read books and played with dolls and played restaurant with the play food, made Matchbox race track courses and built ginormous train tracks for Thomas and his friends.
When the mosquito's grew to the size of pterodactyls, we again stayed in and turned on Netflix.
I made them picnic lunches and they ate with their eyes glued to the TV screen watching Moana, Finding Dory, and The Secret Life of Pets.
Summer break seemed to go by in a flash. It always does, doesn't it?
School started up again yesterday.

Today Fiona and I rode our bikes to get Patrick at the end of the school day.
And there they were...these two women, standing together again in the pick up line at school, waiting to get their boys.
One smiled at me and said "Hi, how was your Summer?" The other one ignored me.
She. Ignored. Me.    On purpose.
How do I know that? Please. We all know when it's being done on purpose.
We just do.

I wanted to feel sorry for myself. I tried. I initially wanted to be friendly with these women so the boys could play together but also so I could find some friends that I could do things with.
I find myself in a strange position of being the Nanny Granny and I feel my age keeps me from fitting in. I'm not a young, hip, cute mom, and I'm not the age of a high school babysitter either.
I find myself in lonely territory. It feels like a no-mans land. Nothing in common with the young moms. But still too young for the geriatric generation that likes to get the early bird special at 4:30 and be home before dark.

But as I was typing this post I re-saw all of the activities me and these two grandchildren of mine had done all Summer and it made me realize that we had had a pretty darn good time this Summer.
The only activity we missed was playing at that school playground.
So how can I feel sorrow over that?

Jesus shows up in so many different ways in my life.
I see his fingerprints all over these Summer activities I did with my grand kids.
Thank You for that Jesus, Thanks for everything.

This song!! I love it! Just goes to show that it is always about perspective. And gratitude.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly