Forgiveness is more powerful than we can only imagine -- but it's a necessity if we ever want to live healthy, happy lives. I know a little bit about it and I thought today would be a good day to share.
I've had to apologize many times these past few months, for saying or doing things that offend other people. My bluntness or saying things off the top of my head without "thinking before I speak," has caused most of this to come about. I had an uncle once tell me a long time ago, "Sharon, always think carefully before you speak," and I heard it at the time, but didn't really take heed. He had Parkinson's disease and spoke very slowly; it was almost painful waiting for him to complete a sentence. Maybe it was the disease, or maybe he was just thinking about what he was going to say - I don't know. But now, so many years later, I understand what he meant. And I still haven't perfected the practice. My mouth usually kicks into gear faster than my brain, and before I know it, I've said what was on my mind before I had the opportunity to think about it first.
We will all be offended by one thing or another our entire lives. That's just life and our human nature. But God Himself put in place a remedy for hurt and offenses that heals our hearts and minds, yet we so often ignore the remedy and continue to hold onto the hurt or offense, that will eventually turn into bitterness and hatred. The remedy is simply forgiveness.
Forgiving someone who has wronged you, heals you. It delivers you from holding onto "baggage" that not only wears you down, but can cause great harm emotionally and spiritually. It does not mean that the other person or persons who hurt you were right or justified - but what it does mean is that you have released them from that bondage of offense that was caused, thus breaking free yourself. You are left with a clean and pure mind and heart, and a lot of peace. It's a cause and effect that is beyond my comprehension, but I know it works because I've had to forgive many, many times in my life.
There was a time for several years that I literally hated a person. I probably could have killed that person if I had the opportunity, I was so filled with hate. I knew I was wrong, but I just couldn't bring myself to forgive the person after all I went through. The Bible says if we don't forgive others, then it is impossible for God to forgive us. Jesus said we are to forgive others seventy times seven times in one day. I heard that preached and read it in the Bible for myself, and still hatred and bitterness filled my heart and mind toward this person and I was in spiritual and emotional bondage. My life was not full of joy or peace and I struggled every day with how I felt. I was simply miserable and felt trapped in a life that I didn't want to live.
I don't remember the day, month or even year that I was delivered from this bondage - but I was, and I had never felt so free. It wasn't suddenly, because I had prayed for years that God would help me forgive this person. But it was one day that I simply realized that I had no more bitterness and hatred in my heart toward them and I felt the kind of peace that only God can give. I had finally forgiven the person who had wronged me so much and for so long, and it was as if a ton of weights were taken off my back and I felt physically, emotionally and spiritually free. It took me several years to finally get to this point, but it didn't need to be that way. Forgiveness is a remedy available to all of us, at all times, and I could have been delivered years before, if I had only allowed myself to be. Carrying bitterness and unforgiveness around only hurts ourselves more - even more than the original offense. Forgiving those people who hurt us, heals ourselves completely, and frees us to live our lives the way we were meant to live them.
How do we take advantage of God's remedy? By understanding and accepting that we as human beings are all fallible and "none perfect but the Father." By forgiving others so that we ourselves may be forgiven. And by choosing our lives to be filled with love, peace and joy.
Easier said than done? Yes, I can tell you from experience that it is. Worth the effort? It is by far worth the effort to be at peace with one's self, God and humankind.
Monday, January 13, 2014
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
The Holidays
So much has been written on the holidays, I am a bit hesitant to add my experiences to the pile. But since Thanksgiving is tomorrow and Christmas is less than a month away, I'm already feeling the stress, and so to alleviate some of that, I will write. You should try it sometime, if you never have. It's a great stress-reliever. It also creates an account of some of the more interesting or notable events of one's life.
So, I have all the ingredients to what I am making and bringing to Jason's house tomorrow, all piled up on my miniature counter. There is literally NOWHERE to cook. I am sitting and looking at it, as if it will jump up and begin to create itself. I really don't feel like baking or making deviled eggs. My assignment was to make a million deviled eggs, two desserts and drinks. And I just don't feel like it. I would rather go and take a nap, but it's so cold in here, I think I see my breath. I'm waiting to see how cold it can get in here before I am forced to turn my furnace on. Now that I am on a fixed budget, I am closely watching every penny. Well, not every penny -- but those that matter. You know what I mean.
There is church tonight, so I must take a nap, or my eyes get real heavy in the evening and since I sit on the front row, I certainly don't want to accidentally fall asleep. Micah did that once and actually started snoring, which woke him up. Him and his friends thought it was pretty funny, but I did not. I gave him the glare which said, "You better sit up and straighten out, or I'm gonna smack you into next week." He, of course, was never smacked into next week, but he did feel the brunt of many wooden spoons and my hand on his behind more times than I care to remember.
Anyway, I will eventually get this baking and cooking done and Leah, Parris and the kids and I will all go to Jason's house for Thanksgiving. We will have enough food to feed a small country - why, I do not know. Because it's Thanksgiving. And because my mother used to make us eat every morsel of food on our plates, because there were people starving in Russia, I still feel compelled to do this. We will talk and argue and watch football and fall asleep after eating all that food, and when we wake up, we'll be ready to eat again. The one day a year that it's been ruled okay to be gluttonous.
What bothers me is all those people who have no where to go on holidays. Either by choice or by their lot in life, they are alone. There are plenty of churches and food pantries that give away free meals and food for the holidays, but food can't replace loneliness. Loneliness around the holidays is a very real desperation for scores of people. That really bothers me. I wish I could gather them all up and make a big meal and have fellowship for hours, giving them a sense of belonging, because we all need to feel that. We all have a need to feel that we are a part of a bigger whole. We need to feel that we are loved, even if it's by only one person. One person can make the difference between a life of sorrow or one with hope. One person can share the love of God which transcends our human understanding, but with that love comes hope. If we come to understand that Jesus loves us more than anyone could ever possibly love us, then we realize that we are never alone, and don't have to ever feel lonely again.
This is the second great commandment. The first is to love God with all our might, mind and heart; and the second is to love our neighbor as ourselves. Jesus said all the law and prophets hang on those two commandments. Pretty intense, huh. So who is our neighbor? In my opinion, it's every person we come in contact with during our day. It's the cashier at WalMart who looked a bit frazzled; it's the Walgreens pharmacy drive-through girl who really didn't know what she was doing; and it's the homeless and lonely and those who may be a bit quirky who don't seem to fit in anywhere. Those are who God commands us to love. And in doing so, in obeying His Word, He always blesses us in return. The holidays become another opportunity to put ourselves in a position of receiving blessings from God. Wow. That's very cool.
So, I have all the ingredients to what I am making and bringing to Jason's house tomorrow, all piled up on my miniature counter. There is literally NOWHERE to cook. I am sitting and looking at it, as if it will jump up and begin to create itself. I really don't feel like baking or making deviled eggs. My assignment was to make a million deviled eggs, two desserts and drinks. And I just don't feel like it. I would rather go and take a nap, but it's so cold in here, I think I see my breath. I'm waiting to see how cold it can get in here before I am forced to turn my furnace on. Now that I am on a fixed budget, I am closely watching every penny. Well, not every penny -- but those that matter. You know what I mean.
There is church tonight, so I must take a nap, or my eyes get real heavy in the evening and since I sit on the front row, I certainly don't want to accidentally fall asleep. Micah did that once and actually started snoring, which woke him up. Him and his friends thought it was pretty funny, but I did not. I gave him the glare which said, "You better sit up and straighten out, or I'm gonna smack you into next week." He, of course, was never smacked into next week, but he did feel the brunt of many wooden spoons and my hand on his behind more times than I care to remember.
Anyway, I will eventually get this baking and cooking done and Leah, Parris and the kids and I will all go to Jason's house for Thanksgiving. We will have enough food to feed a small country - why, I do not know. Because it's Thanksgiving. And because my mother used to make us eat every morsel of food on our plates, because there were people starving in Russia, I still feel compelled to do this. We will talk and argue and watch football and fall asleep after eating all that food, and when we wake up, we'll be ready to eat again. The one day a year that it's been ruled okay to be gluttonous.
What bothers me is all those people who have no where to go on holidays. Either by choice or by their lot in life, they are alone. There are plenty of churches and food pantries that give away free meals and food for the holidays, but food can't replace loneliness. Loneliness around the holidays is a very real desperation for scores of people. That really bothers me. I wish I could gather them all up and make a big meal and have fellowship for hours, giving them a sense of belonging, because we all need to feel that. We all have a need to feel that we are a part of a bigger whole. We need to feel that we are loved, even if it's by only one person. One person can make the difference between a life of sorrow or one with hope. One person can share the love of God which transcends our human understanding, but with that love comes hope. If we come to understand that Jesus loves us more than anyone could ever possibly love us, then we realize that we are never alone, and don't have to ever feel lonely again.
This is the second great commandment. The first is to love God with all our might, mind and heart; and the second is to love our neighbor as ourselves. Jesus said all the law and prophets hang on those two commandments. Pretty intense, huh. So who is our neighbor? In my opinion, it's every person we come in contact with during our day. It's the cashier at WalMart who looked a bit frazzled; it's the Walgreens pharmacy drive-through girl who really didn't know what she was doing; and it's the homeless and lonely and those who may be a bit quirky who don't seem to fit in anywhere. Those are who God commands us to love. And in doing so, in obeying His Word, He always blesses us in return. The holidays become another opportunity to put ourselves in a position of receiving blessings from God. Wow. That's very cool.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Veteran's Day
We had the Veteran's Day service at church Sunday morning and it became very emotional for me. During the part where the different divisions of the service were acknowledged by music and the division emblem, I began crying. My father was an ex-marine and all I could do was weep as I thought of him. I really miss him, just to talk with and ask him his opinions. That will never happen again and it's very difficult to reconcile myself to this reality. It seems so surrealistic, and yet it is as realistic as life gets.
Grief is an overwhelming emotion and can come at the oddest moments. It comes before I fall asleep at night and I see my dad struggling to breathe when he was at hospice. It came Sunday morning as a surprise because I wasn't thinking of him at all until I remembered that he was also a veteran. It came last week when I was struggling with which Medicare supplement to buy and I wished I could talk to him about it. They say to grieve and then move on and I get that, I really do. I feel a bit stuck, though, and I know time will help the grieving process to end. I just need to give it more time. A famous person said, "Grief is the price of love; you cry because you love." So very true...
I doubt that anyone ever thanked my dad for his service in the Marines. At his funeral, we had a color guard and they presented my mom with a flag and played Taps. I hadn't cried like that in a long, long time. Jason has the flag and put it in a frame and I put a picture of my dad when he was a very young man, and some other items, in the frame. I don't know what he's going to do with it now, but it's very nice - my dad would have liked it. This is the picture I put in the frame, which would have been around the same time he was in the service:
Being patriotic is a relatively new concept for me. Growing up in the 60's and 70's, I was not patriotic at all. I hated war - I still do - and I never could understand why we would go into other countries to wipe out Communism or terrorists, like that was our responsibility and ours alone. I hated the government and believe all politicians are liars, and still do. I guess I was an anti-war, anti-government person who was never a part of any group, but just felt this way on my own. I don't know how I came to be this way, but since getting older, this has changed. I know now that each serviceperson is a hero and the government is a separate entity. Although I'm not crazy about our government, I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Our freedom is not about our government - it is about men and women who fought for that freedom, with some giving their very lives as a result. I understand this now and I am very grateful for those people who have and are still serving our country.
Grief is an overwhelming emotion and can come at the oddest moments. It comes before I fall asleep at night and I see my dad struggling to breathe when he was at hospice. It came Sunday morning as a surprise because I wasn't thinking of him at all until I remembered that he was also a veteran. It came last week when I was struggling with which Medicare supplement to buy and I wished I could talk to him about it. They say to grieve and then move on and I get that, I really do. I feel a bit stuck, though, and I know time will help the grieving process to end. I just need to give it more time. A famous person said, "Grief is the price of love; you cry because you love." So very true...
I doubt that anyone ever thanked my dad for his service in the Marines. At his funeral, we had a color guard and they presented my mom with a flag and played Taps. I hadn't cried like that in a long, long time. Jason has the flag and put it in a frame and I put a picture of my dad when he was a very young man, and some other items, in the frame. I don't know what he's going to do with it now, but it's very nice - my dad would have liked it. This is the picture I put in the frame, which would have been around the same time he was in the service:
Being patriotic is a relatively new concept for me. Growing up in the 60's and 70's, I was not patriotic at all. I hated war - I still do - and I never could understand why we would go into other countries to wipe out Communism or terrorists, like that was our responsibility and ours alone. I hated the government and believe all politicians are liars, and still do. I guess I was an anti-war, anti-government person who was never a part of any group, but just felt this way on my own. I don't know how I came to be this way, but since getting older, this has changed. I know now that each serviceperson is a hero and the government is a separate entity. Although I'm not crazy about our government, I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Our freedom is not about our government - it is about men and women who fought for that freedom, with some giving their very lives as a result. I understand this now and I am very grateful for those people who have and are still serving our country.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
My Little Apartment
I finally got my apartment all set up and find myself living in an extremely small studio apartment. I've lived in these types of apartments before, but never this small. It's like a hotel room, only a little bigger. When you walk in, the bathroom is on the right and a closet is on the left. Walk a little further and the stove, sink and puny counter space is on the right; the refrigerator is on the left, sitting on a piece of linoleum cut out just for it, in the middle of carpeting. There is no dishwasher and the two sinks are small. I bought a small dish drainer and cloth to put on the counter next to the sink. It just fits. There is a microwave over the miniature stove. I say miniature because it isn't a standard size; it's bigger than an Easy Bake Oven, but not by much. The rest of the counter space holds the toaster, a container for utensils, a can opener and a coffee maker. That's it. I do have a nice-sized pantry to fit all the non-perishable food. There are a lot of cupboards, but most of them are too high for me to reach. Next to the pantry, I put a narrow folding table because my dining table won't fit there. The TV sits on one corner and I plan to put my painting stuff on the other end. Meanwhile, my painting stuff is under the table in a large, plastic tub. One of my kitchen chairs sits against the table. Next to that is a closet that has the furnace in it and I shoved some suitcases in there for storage. On the other side of this rectangle, sits my bed. Next to my bed is a small dresser and next to the dresser is an easy chair. Next to the easy chair is the refrigerator. Again. Down the little hallway on this side is a metal shelf I bought and next to that is a closet that holds a stack washer and dryer. And then again, next to that is the closet, another kitchen chair and then the door. The deck is next to my bed and it's very nice. I can probably fit a small table and a couple of chairs on it in the spring. I don't know how many square feet this is, but it reminds me of those tiny houses people are resorting to. So actually, I'm quite in vogue living here!
One of the very nice things about this apartment is that there is an indoor pool, which I can't wait to partake of. Since before I moved in, it has been "closed for repairs," but I'm hoping it will open up soon. There is also a whirlpool that will feel wonderful after a swim. That is the main reason I moved here. I lived in this building several years ago, but I lived in a one-bedroom apartment that was very roomy, and I am on the waiting list to move into one as soon as it becomes available. It will be more in rent, but I really need more room. When your kitchen, bedroom and living room are all one small room, it becomes very tiny indeed and I feel a sudden urge to break out into a long distance run. Except I can't run, or even walk for that matter, so it is very disconcerting at times. In any case, this is my home for now and I am grateful for it.
I did babysit for Jade and Donovan one day in my apartment, which was a big mistake. I have no toys here and even if I did, there is no place for them to play. I put cartoons on, thinking they would like that, but instead they were bored and became restless quite quickly. I couldn't count how many times Jade got down off the bed then back on then down again and back on - it was making me dizzy. The cartoons bored them and I couldn't find ones they would like so I tried to get them to take a nap because I was tired, and that never happened either. Jade gets this look in her eyes when you tell her not to do something, she smiles and watches you while she does that one thing you told her not to do. I think she enjoys getting over on me, which she does all the time and has already figured out that grandma is a wimp when it comes to her grandchildren, so why not run over her like a truck. Donovan delights to tell me all the things that Jade is doing wrong and Jade will let out a blood-curdling scream if Donovan takes something away from her, so needless to say, I was pulling my already thinning hair out by the end of the afternoon and Jason wasn't getting off til 10:00. I was, thankfully, relieved of my duties by someone else who I thanked profusely when she came to pick them up around 5.
I am babysitting tomorrow, but it will be at Jason's house and will be much easier. There they have toys and room to run and play. Jade uses my cane as her microphone and sings songs to me and wants me to sing as well. We will be doing a lot of singing tomorrow. I think it will be fun for both of us. That is, until Donovan gets home from school. I forgot what it was like having to split your attention. It makes one feel like a schizophrenic if you have more than one kid. And then when they're both demanding your attention at the same time, my ADD kicks in and I yell, "Wait a minute, wait a minute! One at a time!" That's when they look at me like I'm from Mars and become quiet. I can deal with quiet. It's my friend. Thank God for movies and cartoons. I can watch Dora the Explorer all day with them if I have to. I might even learn some Spanish in the process.
One of the very nice things about this apartment is that there is an indoor pool, which I can't wait to partake of. Since before I moved in, it has been "closed for repairs," but I'm hoping it will open up soon. There is also a whirlpool that will feel wonderful after a swim. That is the main reason I moved here. I lived in this building several years ago, but I lived in a one-bedroom apartment that was very roomy, and I am on the waiting list to move into one as soon as it becomes available. It will be more in rent, but I really need more room. When your kitchen, bedroom and living room are all one small room, it becomes very tiny indeed and I feel a sudden urge to break out into a long distance run. Except I can't run, or even walk for that matter, so it is very disconcerting at times. In any case, this is my home for now and I am grateful for it.
I did babysit for Jade and Donovan one day in my apartment, which was a big mistake. I have no toys here and even if I did, there is no place for them to play. I put cartoons on, thinking they would like that, but instead they were bored and became restless quite quickly. I couldn't count how many times Jade got down off the bed then back on then down again and back on - it was making me dizzy. The cartoons bored them and I couldn't find ones they would like so I tried to get them to take a nap because I was tired, and that never happened either. Jade gets this look in her eyes when you tell her not to do something, she smiles and watches you while she does that one thing you told her not to do. I think she enjoys getting over on me, which she does all the time and has already figured out that grandma is a wimp when it comes to her grandchildren, so why not run over her like a truck. Donovan delights to tell me all the things that Jade is doing wrong and Jade will let out a blood-curdling scream if Donovan takes something away from her, so needless to say, I was pulling my already thinning hair out by the end of the afternoon and Jason wasn't getting off til 10:00. I was, thankfully, relieved of my duties by someone else who I thanked profusely when she came to pick them up around 5.
I am babysitting tomorrow, but it will be at Jason's house and will be much easier. There they have toys and room to run and play. Jade uses my cane as her microphone and sings songs to me and wants me to sing as well. We will be doing a lot of singing tomorrow. I think it will be fun for both of us. That is, until Donovan gets home from school. I forgot what it was like having to split your attention. It makes one feel like a schizophrenic if you have more than one kid. And then when they're both demanding your attention at the same time, my ADD kicks in and I yell, "Wait a minute, wait a minute! One at a time!" That's when they look at me like I'm from Mars and become quiet. I can deal with quiet. It's my friend. Thank God for movies and cartoons. I can watch Dora the Explorer all day with them if I have to. I might even learn some Spanish in the process.
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Dreams
As I sit and watch Micah lead the young adults as the pastor of "Lifeline," I am so impressed and proud of the man he's become. My mind goes back to when he was a little boy and how many wooden spoons I broke across his tushy. He was the true definition of a strong-willed child. His strong will proved to be an asset as an adult and now he is doing exactly what he wants in the place he wants. What an incredible opportunity he's experiencing, coming out to California and pursuing his dream.
I never remember having a "dream" or goals like my children or some of the other kids I grew up with. My only goal was to laugh and always have fun. I just didn't think anything else was important, much less my future. That's why I was stuck being a secretary all of my working days - that was all I knew how to do. Somewhere along the way, I took typing classes which was a good thing - at least I had that. I typed so much in my life that my fingers are now arthritic. But it allowed me to support and raise my family, so I really shouldn't complain about it. I'll complain anyway though, because that's what we Jews do - complain. Even if just a little. It's part of our heritage.
My night dreams usually have no meaning whatsoever and are bizarre in nature. Last night, I dreamt of an old childhood friend. I went to visit her at her old house and during the dream, the location changed as well as my friend. She turned into a different friend and turned out to be very troubled mentally and I was trying to figure out how to leave her house without getting her upset. The next thing I know, I was showing my mother my underarms and telling her I didn't think that would go away after I lose weight. My mom shook her head sadly and said, "Probably not." You'd think that with all the typing that I did, my underarms would be nice and firm, but no - they're big and flabby. My fingers aren't even thin! I tell you, life is just not fair. My mom used to tell my kids that that area of her body was called her "grandma fat." Donovan thinks I just have really big muscles. God bless him.
Besides the crazy dreams I have, I am a very restless sleeper. Sometimes I am turned sideways when I wake up. The other night I actually fell off the bed, with the comforter wrapped around me like a cocoon, which I was thankful for as it partially cushioned my 2-foot plummet to the floor. I heard myself say, "Aaahhhh," as I fell on my side. It was very early in the morning and thank God my phone was also on the floor. I picked it up and called Micah who was in the other room. I had woken him up and when he came in my room he looked puzzled as to why I would be on the floor. He helped me up and I actually went back to sleep, this time in the middle of the bed. My hip is sore from the ordeal, but I didn't break anything. Just a little pride.
And so sometimes my nights are more eventful than my days. Sometimes in the morning, I feel as if I just ran a marathon, I'm so tired. And perhaps I did. Of course it was all in my dream, because unfortunately I awake with the same out of shape and broken body that I went to bed the night before with. But thank God for dreaming and swimming. In both, I can run for miles and move my body in ways that in reality are impossible.
Now if I can only stay on the bed...
I never remember having a "dream" or goals like my children or some of the other kids I grew up with. My only goal was to laugh and always have fun. I just didn't think anything else was important, much less my future. That's why I was stuck being a secretary all of my working days - that was all I knew how to do. Somewhere along the way, I took typing classes which was a good thing - at least I had that. I typed so much in my life that my fingers are now arthritic. But it allowed me to support and raise my family, so I really shouldn't complain about it. I'll complain anyway though, because that's what we Jews do - complain. Even if just a little. It's part of our heritage.
My night dreams usually have no meaning whatsoever and are bizarre in nature. Last night, I dreamt of an old childhood friend. I went to visit her at her old house and during the dream, the location changed as well as my friend. She turned into a different friend and turned out to be very troubled mentally and I was trying to figure out how to leave her house without getting her upset. The next thing I know, I was showing my mother my underarms and telling her I didn't think that would go away after I lose weight. My mom shook her head sadly and said, "Probably not." You'd think that with all the typing that I did, my underarms would be nice and firm, but no - they're big and flabby. My fingers aren't even thin! I tell you, life is just not fair. My mom used to tell my kids that that area of her body was called her "grandma fat." Donovan thinks I just have really big muscles. God bless him.
Besides the crazy dreams I have, I am a very restless sleeper. Sometimes I am turned sideways when I wake up. The other night I actually fell off the bed, with the comforter wrapped around me like a cocoon, which I was thankful for as it partially cushioned my 2-foot plummet to the floor. I heard myself say, "Aaahhhh," as I fell on my side. It was very early in the morning and thank God my phone was also on the floor. I picked it up and called Micah who was in the other room. I had woken him up and when he came in my room he looked puzzled as to why I would be on the floor. He helped me up and I actually went back to sleep, this time in the middle of the bed. My hip is sore from the ordeal, but I didn't break anything. Just a little pride.
And so sometimes my nights are more eventful than my days. Sometimes in the morning, I feel as if I just ran a marathon, I'm so tired. And perhaps I did. Of course it was all in my dream, because unfortunately I awake with the same out of shape and broken body that I went to bed the night before with. But thank God for dreaming and swimming. In both, I can run for miles and move my body in ways that in reality are impossible.
Now if I can only stay on the bed...
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Moving On
I've decided that you never really get over the death of someone you love; you just learn to adapt. The pain and loss is always there, but it's not healthy or realistic to mourn forever, so you tell yourself that you must move on, because life doesn't stop for our sorrows.
So I decided to move on literally - not because of the death of my father, but because I was finished with taking care of my parents, as my mom moved into assisted living. I call her almost every day and she is quickly forgetting things. She has dementia, and it appears to be getting worse. Dementia/Alzheimer's is a horrible disease. The person who has the disease, as it progresses, apparently doesn't know any better, so for that I am grateful. It's painful for the rest of us to have to witness the uncanny progression and hope that she will not forget who we are, as happened with my grandmother and great-grandmother. I remember well trying to talk to my grandmother and all she could do was smile back at me, holding her Raggedy Ann doll. I always left there crying. I don't know how my mom managed to go there several times a week, greeting and talking with her, all the while, not knowing she was her daughter.
I've been visiting Micah and Jasmin for the past several weeks, before I head home for Wisconsin. I've been having a wonderful time, relaxing, playing with my grand dog, Brody, and enjoying their company. Frankly, I love California, and I just may move out here within the next few years. Who knows what the future will bring, but this is a new chapter and verse in my life. I can do and go just about anywhere I want, and that's a great feeling. I wish I could afford a motorhome, because I would travel throughout the United States, making big circles and stopping in and seeing my children and grandchildren along the way. That was always my dream when I was working, that when I retired, I would get a motorhome and travel the country. In fact, Micah told me he would buy me one when he was a little boy, and I keep reminding him about that now...
It's hard to believe I just turned 58. I remember my mother being this age and thinking she was really old. Wow. That's me now. I don't feel so much old, as I do primed, like a well-oiled gear. Very well oiled. You may not hear the cracks and snaps, but I sure feel them as I stand up, sit down and try to walk. The oil is all the medication I take and hopefully after my surgery and down the road a bit, I will be able to discard most, if not all of it. I'm very much looking forward to this surgery with the hope it changes my physical life. I just want to be a well-running gear, without all the oil.
So this begins my next journey in life. I want to experience the mundane and simple, as well as the cataclysmic. I want to notice and learn from everyday life that can get lost when you're working a full time job and coming home to sleep. I want to interact with my children and grandchildren and learn who they are. I want to take more classes in art. I want to hang out with my friends and laugh and talk and laugh some more. I want to find a ministry that I can contribute to and hopefully help others. I want to live life to the fullest and follow God's will no matter where He leads me.
Because at the end of the day, that's all that really matters anyway.
So I decided to move on literally - not because of the death of my father, but because I was finished with taking care of my parents, as my mom moved into assisted living. I call her almost every day and she is quickly forgetting things. She has dementia, and it appears to be getting worse. Dementia/Alzheimer's is a horrible disease. The person who has the disease, as it progresses, apparently doesn't know any better, so for that I am grateful. It's painful for the rest of us to have to witness the uncanny progression and hope that she will not forget who we are, as happened with my grandmother and great-grandmother. I remember well trying to talk to my grandmother and all she could do was smile back at me, holding her Raggedy Ann doll. I always left there crying. I don't know how my mom managed to go there several times a week, greeting and talking with her, all the while, not knowing she was her daughter.
I've been visiting Micah and Jasmin for the past several weeks, before I head home for Wisconsin. I've been having a wonderful time, relaxing, playing with my grand dog, Brody, and enjoying their company. Frankly, I love California, and I just may move out here within the next few years. Who knows what the future will bring, but this is a new chapter and verse in my life. I can do and go just about anywhere I want, and that's a great feeling. I wish I could afford a motorhome, because I would travel throughout the United States, making big circles and stopping in and seeing my children and grandchildren along the way. That was always my dream when I was working, that when I retired, I would get a motorhome and travel the country. In fact, Micah told me he would buy me one when he was a little boy, and I keep reminding him about that now...
It's hard to believe I just turned 58. I remember my mother being this age and thinking she was really old. Wow. That's me now. I don't feel so much old, as I do primed, like a well-oiled gear. Very well oiled. You may not hear the cracks and snaps, but I sure feel them as I stand up, sit down and try to walk. The oil is all the medication I take and hopefully after my surgery and down the road a bit, I will be able to discard most, if not all of it. I'm very much looking forward to this surgery with the hope it changes my physical life. I just want to be a well-running gear, without all the oil.
So this begins my next journey in life. I want to experience the mundane and simple, as well as the cataclysmic. I want to notice and learn from everyday life that can get lost when you're working a full time job and coming home to sleep. I want to interact with my children and grandchildren and learn who they are. I want to take more classes in art. I want to hang out with my friends and laugh and talk and laugh some more. I want to find a ministry that I can contribute to and hopefully help others. I want to live life to the fullest and follow God's will no matter where He leads me.
Because at the end of the day, that's all that really matters anyway.
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