Monday Moments

 Mondays get bad reviews. I understand the Monday dread, the weekend went too fast frustration and  all the negative feelings surrounding Monday . I too have had those same thoughts about the day but like everything else our thoughts depend on our perspective. In my retirement , second career days Mondays are a gift I treasure. Mondays are possibility, privilege of time and  opportunity  that I am able to use to craft words, sentences, paragraphs  that eventually become pages of a book. I always feel a strange excitement and trepidation when I am starting a new book. I have characters, scenes and story lines taking shape but it is like trying to herd chickens. I speak from experience when thinking of herding chickens. They do not go where you want them to go. They balk, crouch down in the dirt stupidly and trip you up.  Turkeys are easier to herd. They  will follow you or follow each other , will come when you call and usually stick together and end up where you want them. So in the quiet of my city small space I sit this morning and hope to herd some words turkey style. Since last sitting at my desk characters have formed  and I feel the story taking shape. Books of course do not write themselves. Authors must sit and wait, must show up and take chances, must take the gift of Mondays and use them wisely. And unlike Sunny I do not pick up chickens!

On This Day

 I am a date remembering kind of person. I journal and read back to previous journals regularly. Dates and anniversary dates are very important to me but somehow this year Oct 9th went unnoticed. I know I felt the season, the coming of October and the feelings fall brings. I certainly felt September 26th and gave tribute to my mother on that day , the day of her passing. Both Mom and Dad have been on my mind and in my heart during these autumn days as always but yesterday I realized I didn't pay specific attention to October 9th. And today as I write this I also remember my dear friend Gladys who left us on this date. The two deaths were so intermingled for me. She knew as she declined that Leverett was passing as well and I wrote his death in her death book shortly after someone entered  hers. She was laid out and her large family milled about in an adjoining room at the funeral parlor as we gathered to receive mourners for Dad.  I have woken in the night several times lately and spoken out loud to both Mom and Dad telling them just how much I miss them. That missing is there every day and is part of the living we do. Today my daughter's dear friend is feeling the deep pain of knowing the grief that separation will cause when her wonderful mother takes her last breath. Not being by her side makes it even more difficult but in the end that bond will always be just as strong and meaningful as it was from the very beginning. The way of things some say; a parent taking their leave before the child. I know the sorrow of the opposite being the case but also know that however long you have been blessed with your parents saying goodbye is no easier. I  wrote in my journal on October 9th, 2019   And this is the day my father dies  We will all be given that day and those left behind will know that day and remember. It is of course the days that came before that truly matter. It is the all the days , the years , the moments we shared and the love we were given that will sustain us. And on this day I  remind myself  to make the  best of those days.  

The Gift of Gratitude?

 I am going to attempt to put my mixed up thoughts into words, perhaps cry a few tears, then get on with it. Gratitude is timely around Thanksgiving and for the most part gratitude is often foremost on my mind and seeps out in most of my blog entries. As those close to me know  during months of holding tightly to gratitude I was masking an internal battle with my own well being. I now find myself struggling a bit with the whole concept of gratitude. Don't get me wrong. I truly believe I have much to be thankful for and strongly advocate for a mindset of gratitude. I  have a lengthy list of things to be thankful for and  I continue to give that voice. I was raised to be thankful and feel blessed by the example my parents and grand parents set for me. I am the classic glass half full girl, the determined optimist always trying to put whatever comes my way in a positive light. There is nothing wrong with that or is there? I have been tossing around the term toxic gratitude in my head for the last week. It seems so counter intuitive, so negative and so contrary to everything I hold dear and  the go to strategy I have engaged for many years. So can being grateful be toxic? That is the question I have been pondering. Now in the pondering I don't have any intention of becoming  so different than I've always been. But I do believe sometimes my positivity and need to always appear grateful has blinded me to the things I put up with and stuffed down so that I could be grateful. Even as I write this and try to unpack some of my feelings around gratitude I am conflicted. I usually want to make everything all right for the people I love. I want to show up and play the part of the  loving wife , mother and grandmother pushing positivity and resolve. That intention seems  the opposite  to living alone and taking great care to look after myself first. I feel guilt, disappointment and confusion and sometimes see  the same in those I love. On this beautiful October, post Thanksgiving day I claim all the  aspects of my gratitude. My heart still beats and each waking moment I carry the  joy and the sorrow of all that life has given me.  I feel the love of family and friends and will continue to do my best to play my part in their lives. But I claim all the rest of it as well and will work toward healing and health in myself  first.

 

The Day is Here

 "Don't do the Math", Paige said each time she asked "guess how many more days before my birthday. "The day is here, the day she was so anxiously waiting for. Today she turns ten and to her it is exciting and a day to celebrate. And of course we will celebrate with her but for us it holds so much more. Double digits is a milestone and Paige is happy to embrace it but for those of us who have spent the last ten years with this lovely little human being we are sad for the turning point. Where has that delightful baby, happy toddler, funny , brave and adventurous four year old , inquisitive seven year old,  the kind and  intuitive nine year old gone when the calendar tells us she's reached the double digits. All those ages are still there of course. Photographs and memories remain and the personality this ten year old possesses is the combination of every year , every age and every day she's already lived. So now we watch the next year unfold and see her continue to grow and evolve. It is the sadness and the joy of living; taking each stage and each season we're given. So today we love and celebrate the ten year old Paige. How very blessed we are!