All posts by Sunny Bridge

I love travel, seeing and photographing new places, meeting new people, learning languages (focusing on French for the past few years).

Wooden Boxes of Joy

God’s joy moves from unmarked box to unmarked box . . . as rainwater, down into flowerbed. As roses up from ground. —Rumi

Here’s something I wrote for one of my Zoom writing classes. It’s sort of a lyric essay, inspired by the Rumi quote above. I added a few photos, of course. 

Wooden Boxes of Joy

If only I could box up joy for a rainy day, a bad-news day, a fearful, unjust, maddening day.  A day of covid spikes, wildfires, hurricanes, business fails, lingering grief. Not in cardboard, way too likely to disintegrate under the first flood of tears. I would choose instead solid wood, maybe with a strong latch to hold the joy inside. Then again, maybe I already have.

I think there’s some joy in the old trunk we had in our early days, nothing special, peeling paper dimmed with age between the ribs, but it held the comfort of extra blankets and pillows and the mystique of far-flung travel otherwise lacking in our poor-newlywed thrift-store décor.

And there is certainly joy in the miniature Narnian wardrobe on the library fireplace, crammed with tiny fur coats, . . . 

 . . . the carved wood, regal lion beckoning me in. There’s room enough and to spare for joy in Narnia. I haven’t yet made it out through the back, but I keep hoping.

And also in the heavy-grained dark wood, rounded-top chest holding the dreadful game Dread Pirate and memories of happy-dancing exultation after winning my first eBay auction to get it.

Impossible to resist gleaming gold doubloons and glittering glass jewels pulled out of soft velvet bags and the prospect of sailing heavy-cast frigates across treasure mapped seas.

No matter the game itself is boring, the company never was, and that wooden box holds many a laughing Argh!! from days gone by.

Certainly joy is in the cognac box that shared our travels, picked up at the end of our Charente river adventure, five days in a thirty-four-foot cabin-cruiser, the two of us navigating locks neither of us had the experience to manage without angst. A little cognac came in handy those evenings, once moored, but this box held a special bottle, untouched, thirty years old, a gift for friends who had done much to make our adventure possible. We just had to get it back to them. So the box—and the bottle—cruised the Charente along with us, then rode the train to La Rochelle, and a few months later, flew across the ocean to glory in the fall foliage of New England, to feel the power of the wind on the Outer Banks, to stroll the flat sands, shelling on Folly Beach and revel in the weird of Key West. Then on to Memphis for blues, booze and barbecue and Santa Fe for silver and salsa. And finally home to Colorado.

The bottle had made it, unopened, intact. We toasted our return, we four, but then it came out of the box only on worthy occasions, a few special dinners, weddings, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, usually shared with us. The cognac lasted longer than David did. We finished it together, the three of us, after he was gone. Then one day they brought me the beautiful wood box, our old traveling companion, to hold his ashes for a while. I have it still. And it is brimming with joy.

Wishing you joy even in these very difficult times!

Good News

It can be difficult to find good news these days, so thought I’d share a bit with you. Some of you may have already heard — Brittany and Andy are engaged! WOOHOO! Congratulations, you two!

Brittany and Andy are engaged!

I didn’t want to steal their thunder, so gave them plenty of time to spread the word themselves, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still celebrate. And what a fun story they have to tell about that day!

The relationship is still thriving after road trips to both coasts, so they seem to be VERY well suited!

Brittany and Andy at Sunapee in July 2020

Beckett, of course, continues to be a joy, whenever I get to see him, and I’ve actually seen him several times this month. Brian had an extended business trip, so I was able to spend a bit more time than usual with Chelsea and her active little guy. Here he is in his own private ball pit (except we kept getting in with him–too fun).

Beckett – 19 September 2020

Auntie Brittany and Beckett – 19 September 2020

Brittany and Andy also came up for an overnight the 19th and Chelsea and Beckett stayed, too. What a great twenty-four hours that was, with lots of wedding talk and Pinterest pinning. We’re all optimistic that an outdoor wedding will be possible toward the end of July 2021, but we know flexibility is a prime virtue these days. Still. It was a major morale boost to have something positive to think about and plan for. We stayed up too late and drank too much wine, but I loved every minute (even the next morning, I promise). The best part, of course, was spending time with my dear ones, something that I have very much missed in these complicated, challenging times.

It’s been a few weeks now, and I’m back to finding joy in new blooms on my bougainvillea, and that’s okay, too. Probably better to be easily pleased these days.

Bonus good news: Doug and Kristl can now actually breathe OUTSIDE in Portland, Oregon, which is a very nice change after all the smoke from the Oregon wildfires. And closer to home, I’ve heard from a reliable source that the Poudre Canyon Chapel, the historic Arrowhead Lodge, and my friends’ family mountain house are still standing even after the Cameron Peak Fire made another terrible run down the canyon. That was also very good news. I have so many memories of wonderful times there, mostly with David, but even some since. The fires are not out, though, so please keep all impacted – whether displaced by the fire or fighting the fire — in your thoughts and prayers.

Wishing you an abundance of good news! And time with sweet children, if at all possible!

Beckett – 12 September 2020


Happy Birthday, Beckett!

Hard to believe an entire year has passed since Beckett was born. In some ways it went by so fast, but also, so much has changed since this time last year, my head is spinning. Chelsea and Brian will certainly have more photos of this day, but here’s a preview . . .

Beckett ready to celebrate his first birthday

and a review . . .

Beckett at 10 months

Beckett at 11 months

He looks like he’s raring to go in both of those pictures, but mostly he was a dancer in place. Now he’s actually on the move . . .

So that’s a fun thing in the midst of all that is grim right now. You don’t need me to list all the hard stuff. Plus locally, we now have a wildfire raging at the top of the canyon, not as bad as those in California, but still potentially threatening many beloved landmarks and sending smoke down to the city, rendering outdoor gatherings challenging, while indoor gatherings remain extremely ill-advised.

I could focus on all that is wrong, and yes, sometimes I do. As I’m celebrating Beckett today, I’m also disappointed that I didn’t get to spend the usual lake time with my other grands, Bailey and Felicity,  but there are still some bright moments in this dark year. I’m not evenly remotely a wildfire expert, but the fire is certainly clearing out the beetle-kill, and it does provide some beautiful sunsets.

A bit of light in the darkness

Wishing you light in any darkness you face, and many good things to celebrate!

Happy Birthday, Beckett!

The Sweetness of Memory

David – August 2011

I’m writing this on the eve of David’s birthday — he would have been 68 tomorrow — and he is still so very much missed. But in the midst of the missing, I am so frequently flooded with fond memories of our nearly forty years together, I find myself more often smiling and feeling grateful than weeping and feeling sorry for myself. Admittedly, there are a few of those moments, too.

But I am so profoundly glad we had both the opportunity to have so many adventures together and the  . . . whatever it took to grab onto them with both hands. I think about so many great times in La Rochelle . . .

La Rochelle 2014

BBQ chez Pascale et Jacky 19 juin 2014

. . . and on the Outer Banks . . .

Sunset over the Sound — Outer Banks, North Carolina – 2014

. . . and Folly Beach . . .

Sunset on Folly Beach – January 2015

. . . and Key West . . .

Sunset from Sunset Pier, Key West – 2015

. . .  and of course, Sunapee . . .

Sunrise over Lake Sunapee – 2015

. . . and so many more. None of these are possible right now, so I’m enjoying the memories and making the most of being home. I’m still taking my weekly French lessons via Skype and doing a lot of writing as part of those. Apparently I’m writing my memoirs . . . in French. 😉

Although I haven’t needed to buy gas for my car since February, I have taken a few bike rides recently, loving the cool of a summer evening, and occasionally finding something so gorgeous, I have to stop and snap a photo . . .

Evening beauty from the bike trail

. . . but I’m still very much a home-body, while this pandemic tortures so many. There just haven’t been many good reasons to go out.  The bike trail at dusk is a pretty good one, though.

Poudre River from the bike trail

Sunset from the bike trail

I remember David and I had such big plans for our new bikes and all the rides we would take together. That didn’t happen, but it is certainly something I can enjoy on my own.

Our lives are not going quite the way we had imagined they would.  I don’t think anyone would say they are. So many are suffering so many losses right now. All the anguish in the news has been so troubling, I spent an evening in the ER a few weeks ago and had to follow up with a cardiologist.  But it’s heartache, not heart disease, fortunately.

So for now I start my day with as much of God’s peace as I can soak in. Then I read as much good news as possible, and there’s more than you might think.  Of course it’s important to stay informed, and I do, but I have to try to resist the pull of the black hole of endless heartbreaking and/or infuriating news stories and videos.

I hope you are finding ways to cope as well. One of the few things I can do is offer you a bit of beauty and a few words of encouragement. Please know I hold you in my heart. There’s room for you there as well as David.