Lord, I Don’t Want To Worry, But…

July 25, 2018 / colleen arnold / Leave a comment

Recently a strange and unexpected thing happened in the cemetery. It reminded me once again that worry does not do a bit of good!

I believe that Neil’s ashes belong in holy ground, not on a shelf or scattered, but it took a while for me to decide where that holy spot would be. Only recently, I chose a local cemetery plot, and our priest blessed it and stood with me as Neil was buried. Until I select a permanent tombstone, the grave is adorned with only a simple marker. Even so, it’s a lovely spot: peacefully quiet, shaded by a dogwood tree, and close to other people we knew. I’ve developed a habit of strolling through the cemetery after church, and it has become a comforting ritual.

On one such evening, I saw from a distance bare earth where I estimated Neil’s grave should be. Hoping it was just the summer sun playing tricks on my eyes, I hurried ahead. Nope, there was the marker, right in the middle of bare, dry earth where last week had been green grass. Continue reading →

My Fickle Faith

March 7, 2018 / colleen arnold / 4 Comments

Last week’s wind storms wreaked havoc at my house. Lots of damage, loss of power, and on top of that, a little fender-bender car accident. Today I pick up the pieces, literally. There are downed twigs and large branches all over my yard, not to mention the two fallen ninety-foot-tall pine trees stretched across my driveway.

And even though last week I said, “Thank you, God, that those trees did not hit my house or my car!” today I’m thinking: How do I even start to clean up this mess? Continue reading →

Big Jim and the Great Bahama Adventure

November 1, 2017 / colleen arnold / 6 Comments

I am a naturally cautious person and not typically enthusiastic about adventures, but one of the best days I ever had was one worthy of a reality TV show. It was winter at home, and while my sister watched our daughters, Neil and I went on our first cruise.

Although I would have been content soaking up the sun from the lido deck and watching the shows in the grand ballroom, Neil wanted to explore Nassau once we docked. The cruise ship offered several tours, and I pointed out the ones I thought would be fun. “No,” he said. “They’re for tourists. I want to see the real place, the real people.”

We piled out of the ship with everyone else, but while they headed off to ask about tour buses, Neil walked down the road to a giant Bahamian man who stood outside a long, white, limousine. “How much for a tour of the real island?” Neil asked him. “The real island? You sure, man?” They haggled over a price for a day that included a traditional show, food and a scenic drive, then shook hands, and Big Jim (yes, that was really his name) ushered us into the back of the limo.

“Isn’t this nice?” Neil asked as we turned on the air conditioning and settled in.
It was nice, for a while. Then we drove off a main road into a poor neighborhood where skinny dogs wandered around sniffing trash, and people watched us from their front porch rockers. When we stopped in front of a run-down, empty appearing grocery store, the limo looked incredibly out of place. Big Jim got out, and Neil rolled down his tinted window. “Where are you going?” Continue reading →