A cord of three strands is not easily broken.
The general translation is that if one man stands alone, he is easily beaten. Two men standing together is better but three is sure to be the strongest. Here’s my translation: one person alone is lonely but braid that person with their family and they are unbreakable and the bond is golden. Full of love.
My love for my family is a solid cord. More than three strands. My love for Zane is probably the strongest piece to the cord. And it always will be.
I got up this morning and got ready to go to the gym, my normal routine. It’s been a little different since I broke my neck because I’m on light duty, cardio only, and maybe three times a week (I’m also not supposed to be driving but the gym isn’t that far so shhhh). I got in my car and the tire was almost completely flat. I aired it up, went to the gym then went to Walmart to have it fixed. At the service counter, the woman asked for my number and said “Zane Timmons?”….
Silence. My heart stopped.
I guess the last time Zane had a flat fixed on the Challenger he used my phone number. I don’t think she knew what to say when she saw me start crying. I explained. I couldn’t hold myself together. Something so minor.
After the funeral, I couldn’t find one of Zane’s drawings, a frog he drew specifically for me that I made him sign when he brought it to me. I remember the night he layed it on my dresser. I asked him “well did you sign it?” And he said “Uh nope”…haha and guess what my sweet child did for me, he signed it. Well this evening I found it when Daniel was trying to find a tool in my truck of the car. How it had wiggled it’s way to where it was I have no idea but I’m glad I found it. I carefully put it in his book from the funeral home so I wouldn’t lose it again because it’s kind of small. 8 months later the frog comes back.
I was scrolling through Facebook and a video popped up of someone drawing a mural on a wall. It jarred my memory once again. As everyone knows, Zane loved to draw. He would doodle for hours on his wall in his bedroom. Yeah, I picked my battles and a wall was not worth arguing about (remember that moms…it’s just a wall, it’s just a stupid wall). If he drew it in pencil, he would eventually erase it and draw over it. We had plans to paint one wall with chalkboard paint. I now wish I had taken pictures of each drawing before he erased it or drew over it. I’m glad we have what drawings we do have of his.
A ladybug flew on my arm today. I’ll take it as a sign 💙🐞