The new year, 2022, came right on in the door and sat down. Looking suspiciously similar to the past two years. I feel certain that I’m not the only person on the planet who is done with the pandemic. Every news clip on COVID, vaccines, deaths, hospitalizations? I just can’t anymore. Not that I don’t care. That’s not it at all. I do care. The numbers, the news, the pictures, the personal stories really break my heart.
This morning when I woke up my mind was filled with an intensely awful memory from when I was around 5 years old. Involving a life altering event to my parents and sisters and myself. You won’t get details, but the effects of that event were permanent and sad. Anyway, as this flash of memory hit my brain waves I sensed God asking me “Can you be thankful even though….?” What a difficult thing to ponder. Especially at 5 in the morning. I couldn’t answer right away.
Aging has been working overtime on me, it seems. Good grief. Sagging parts. Wrinkles in the most unusual places. More chins than anyone would ever possibly need. Curious bumps and spots on my skin, some that can be frozen off by the derm doctor. Of course they find their way back to new locations, and bring their friends with them. Oh, but they are “harmless”. Except for the bruises to my psyche.
And then there’s the occasional unexpected meet-up with the ground, courtesy of gravity. Trips, but not the kind of trips I like to take. And not so very harmless. I’d show you the most recent scar, but it’s happily buried under the hair in my left eyebrow.
In your own experience, who has historically been the parent most likely to shop for and/or create all the gifts given in your family? For me it was my mother. As a result, I really don’t remember many details about the gifts she gave me. Except that she generously gave to her children. So many gifts over the years. And so much of herself.
Of all the road hazards one can experience, fog causes me the most fear.
Growing up, my parents didn’t really give me any “rules” to follow. Never told me what time to be home or where not to go/what not to do. !! Did they just trust me that much? I don’t know. When I think about their life with the challenges of my oldest handicapped sister, and my dad’s terminal illness, it seems likely that they were just overwhelmed and exhausted. In return, I saw their struggles and honestly did not want to do anything that would add to their stress. I was chronologically “young”, but I was “old” experientially. I don’t really think I was a challenging teenager.
We like to travel. Actually, we love to travel. I was born with the “let’s go” gene. And I believe the hubby was, too. So, we have done a lot of traveling when possible. Life has put a bit of a cramp in that plan, but still, we travel.
Recently as we were walking on one of our favorite trails at the lake where we’re camped, I said, “You’re 68. I’m 67. We need to determine the things we want to do, places we want to see while we still are able to do such.” He replied, “We still have thirty years of living for all that”. And he’s the math whiz??
What speaks to your soul? For me, it’s almost always the wonders of God’s creation. We travel a lot to beautiful mountains, lakes, oceans, and so on. But sometimes the wonders of creation are in my own backyard.
Today is Father’s Day. This is my daddy, whom I have written about often. We had 17 years together. I’ve had 50 years of life beyond those 17 years. Without him. Do I miss him, even 50 years later? Well, yes.
I had a “moment” the other day. It all started when I saw my hairbrush while getting ready for the day. It was full of gray hair. FULL of gray hair. And in that moment, I “saw” my mom. Of course when my eyes lifted to look in the mirror, there she was again.
The day was Sunday. As we were in church right before the service was to begin, a young woman and her very young daughter walked down the aisle next to where we were seated. She took a seat in the pew in front of us and to the left a bit. It was the front row of our section in the very large church we attend. No one else was sitting near them, giving us a close up view of the two of them.
Do you like to wait? When we go to restaurants and see more than 10 people in line generally we turn right back around and leave. That’s how much we like to wait. Once in south Wichita I was stuck in my car waiting on a train, and it turned into a 45 minute wait. Then I learned this was the norm for that particular area! I just can’t think of anything I really enjoy waiting for. Not food, not trains, not telephone calls on hold. I could go on and on.
We were driving through the Flint Hills of Kansas yesterday. Isn’t it beautiful?
Maybe you do this too……read on.
There are homes in this picture. You can’t see them well from this view but I assure you they are there. We drove down several lovely country roads while driving to and from this location. The views were just stunning, I’m not exaggerating. And as usual, I love seeing the homes on these acreages. On absolutely serene looking acreages that just scream “Perfect Life”. Do you know what I’m talking about? I look at these homes and think how awesome it would be to live there.
So….do you dream and imagine and envy a bit on drives like this? Like I do?
After a long period of time with no volunteering trips with our RV, we finally finally are able to get back out there and go. As I mentioned in my blog post titled “Purpose and Plans”, everything kinda stopped in 2020 for us due to Rotten Rona. In 2019 we began the volunteering plan, in 2020 it screeched to a halt. Only two projects total for us and BAM, done.
1963. If you were alive and above the age of 4 or so in 1963 you undoubtedly recall the day in November.
In February of last year we visited the 6th Floor Museum in Dallas. Dallas is huge, 7 million people live in the metro area. There are many buildings with six floors. But only one building houses the location where a gunman shot and killed President John Kennedy from a window on the sixth floor.
While walking through the museum and listening to the audio headphones tell the story I was taken back to that day in November. My 3rd grade classroom in Minneapolis Grade School. We listened to the news over the loudspeaker while our teacher, Mrs. Warren, wept. The only sound was the voice on the speaker and the weeping of our teacher. While a room full of eight year olds tried to process what was happening.
We’re retired. It’s been two years now. Since we love to travel and have a fifth wheel, we looked into ways we could incorporate both of those into our life plan. Doors opened for us to volunteer at faith based camps while living part-time in our fifth wheel and in the fall of 2019 we had our first stint in eastern Oklahoma. After the first month we loved it so much that we quickly signed up for another month.
About eleven years ago, I bought my first ever Lego set for the boy who made me a grandma.
About eleven years and one minute ago, I became just a little obsessed with the delightfulness of Legos. So did said grandboy. We spent many hours building one thing after another, as the coins rapidly left our bank account.
Percival and Augusta**. Long ago they lived across the street from my family in a small super-modest old home with peeling paint and many many many cats. And one little dog. There was a front porch. There was a back porch. There’s no trace left of where Percival and Augusta spent their sad life. But my mind will never lose the image of that home and the couple who lived there. Continue reading “The rest of the story….”→
My breath was taken away and tears came to my eyes. Not gonna lie, they even rolled down my cheeks.
A friend of mine shared a photo with me. She’d found it in an old yearbook of her mom’s.
Me. Age fifteen. The one school picture that never made it to a frame on the top of the piano with the other pictures of me and my sisters. I had totally forgotten about this particular photograph. I doubt there are prints of it anywhere, except of course the old yearbook.
If you’re my age, and if you’re a girl (well, OLD girl), you probably once loved listening to the smooth voice of Karen Carpenter. The Carpenters. One of their most popular songs was Rainy Days and Mondays. “Talking to myself and feeling old” “Sometimes I’d like to quit, nothing ever seems to fit”. Such upbeat lyrics. NOT. Sadly, the line about “nothing ever seems to fit, like to quit” ? Karen died from anorexia at a young age.
I talk to myself and you probably do, too. Please tell me you do. 🙂