Happy New Day!

 In the last few days I've had passing thoughts about writing a blog entry. I even had a title a few days ago but try as I might I can not remember it. Realizing I've not written since mid December and  registering it being the last day of this month and this year I felt compelled to sit down and write an entry this morning. I am weary. Now in saying that I must say I have had some relaxing times since the frenzy of preparation a week ago  followed by the delightful activity and bustle of Christmas day. I took my birthday as a do almost nothing day. I have gone to bed most nights fairly early and even slept in until 9:00 this morning. The weariness comes from deep within. So many people are talking about their anxiousness to get rid of 2020. They speak of the difficulty of months of a global pandemic and the hope they hold for 2021. Of course I can echo all that. But this morning I remember the last day of December in 1999. Oh how I wanted the sorrow of that year to lift. We were invited to join Karen and Thane in their home for a New Year's Eve get together. Her ill brother sat in the corner as the rest of the family gathered in looking for the new year to lift the heavy burden they were carrying. We went through the motions and I thought I would break under the weight of my sadness. The next day and year dawned and we found our way through it one difficult day at a time .I see similarity and recognize the path, a path we are all on regardless of what it is we are given to face. A new day , a new year , new hope and renewed strength are the tools we have every  day no matter what the month or year is on the calendar. How quickly those days and years go. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger! I have no words of wisdom or  profound overview of what we've lived in 2020 and I have no eloquent words of positive prediction. I just have the knowledge that hard things are hard and we do the best we can. The weariness sometimes lifts long enough to give us the energy and zest we need to keep going. Love carries us and pushes us to do better. For that I am truly grateful whatever 2021 brings.

I Love Mondays

 I love Mondays and especially Monday morning with its  promise of possibility. I just made my list and sitting here I feel the joy of the day ahead. I don't mind saying that I hit the wall Saturday at suppertime. The thread that was keeping me together got taunt and broke. Now when that happens I'm not known for yelling and screaming but more for retreating to a quiet place and letting the tears come. I know a balance of both is probably healthier but I am a Bradley by birth and we do not confront. My wise son ( who doesn't know everything, but knows a lot) made the astute observation ,as he attempted to deal with his distraught mother , that I do better writing my feelings than voicing them. So true and right or wrong that is just the way it is. Monday mornings are quiet and in  the  month and season of our lives we now find ourselves that quietness is a welcome state. The grandkids are in school,  the adult children have or are going to work and just the two old folks remain. Mondays are writing days and I treasure them. Yesterday was a beauty day. The tree got in and up. Jenna put the lights on while I worked at supper prep and cleanup. Paige helped with decorating and running commentary . Emma made appearances. A lovely Sunday supper was enjoyed and the twinkling lights in the corner of the living room provided a warm and welcome glow. I was truly grateful for the activity and interaction in my home. And this morning I am truly grateful for the silence. The balance is the key. 

I Miss my Mother

 I love getting ready for Christmas. I love digging out the favorite decorations, the treasured objects, the precious memories. Just like everything else in life there is change to that. Some things stay packed away. Some placements change and some remain the same. I searched yesterday for a framed picture I'd given Mom and Dad a few years ago of Mom, myself and my two brothers standing on the steps of our house at 619 Regent St. prepared to leave for Moncton Christmas morning. The photograph is small but the feelings were huge as I searched for it knowing it had to sit on the small yellow table in the open area. The twinkling lights of the ceramic Christmas tree my mother made and the album cover from my childhood accompany pictures of my growing up family and my beloved parents. I miss them both but yesterday my heart kept reminding me how much I miss my mother. Funny how last night's jumble of dreams gave me both of them. Dad was eating with Chapin's kids and I was holding a new baby up to show Mom.  This morning as I write this my eyes fill with tears as I realize  the powerful weaving in and out of past , present and future our emotions guide us through. This present Christmas has so many gifts and challenges and all the Christmases of my past are thrown in as well as hope of future Christmases. And to top it off the song So This is Christmas comes on the radio. I got through Saturday Zac's 42nd birthday, the twenty second one we've had without him. I shed a few tears but did not have the big cry I anticipated. Perhaps that is coming soon. The big cry doesn't hurt anything and neither does the constant ache. Both are love and I am thankful for that love. I miss the comfort of that love when I can show up at Mom's and just be. She would feed me and wrap me in her love and the visit whether long or short would equip me to keep going. It still does. But now I am the mother , the grandmother and I am truly grateful for that honor. But oh how I'd love to walk through my mother's door and feel the status of being her special guest, her beloved daughter. Thankyou Mom for all the times you gave me that.

Zac changed the lyrics to 'So this is Christmas and what have we done We brought our mother with us and it's not any fun.' This was after a memorable fiasco of a Christmas Eve run. Oh the wonderful treasured memories.