Good Morning To Me and You
I was able to get up this morning and take a shower at my own pace. I even put some body lotionon…
I was able to get up this morning and take a shower at my own pace. I even put some body lotion on afterwards and am dressed. I smell like a lady again. Do you think anyone will notice?
Probably not, but I do. I am able to sit here and write and drink my first cup of coffee. I am loving every moment I have with myself. I look out the window and I see a mixture of sun and a few streaky clouds. I see one tree now baron of leaves, other trees that haven’t begun to shed their summer leaves and I see one pine tree.
I used to hate silence. I used to hate spending time with myself. I thought I was boring. But Al‘s illness and my responsibilities to taking care of his needs has made me appreciate one leisurely shower.
The coffee taste better. Rhino, our cat is napping on my bed. Al is snoring. The Christmas tree is glowing and all is quiet. In my neighborhood I live with Senior Citizens on my side of the road. On the opposite side lives the Saturday social drinkers; so Sunday mornings can be spectacular.
I don’t know how many of you take time to be with yourself. I don’t mean meditating or praying. I mean just stepping back and looking at the precise moment you are in. What are you doing and are you enjoying it? Have you noticed anything about this fine Sunday morning?
After the Christmas Day was here and gone, I sat back and went over it. With some nice things I saw were also mixed with sadness, tears and smiles from my brother. Others I remembered comments that were good and some left me hurt.
I tried my best. I consider it slaving when I spent four days in the kitchen making foods that looked merry and bright. Some tried them, others would not, and some liked. I am learning very quickly after I have wiped the starry eyes, that life is not what I wish it to be. Life is what it is. I can choose to do what I used to do; which was to carry the hurt with me, or I can choose to stop and move forth.
I have chosen the latter. Acceptance that things will never be as they were when I was young is something I am strongly working on for 2013. Closing the gates around my heart is one more thing that I want to work on. I don’t want to close my heart totally. There is too much to see, love and laugh about in life. I do however, need to pull the corral in just a bit more, to remind me that when things are not as you think they should be, you feel it, mourn it just a wee bit, and then move on.
I think that this will work out for me much better. I have two dear friends that seem to go through some of the similar events that I do and they are not living in dream land anymore. Dreams are nice but not when you can ever see the reality of them.
Yesterday, I went to a store in Fort Wayne that I had never stepped feet or eyes in. I walked through the doors and my eyes became big like a kid looking at all the Christmas gifts under the glittery tree. It wasn’t a clothing store, or a health food store. It was Hobby Land.
I had a ball. Even with my aching back and burning feet, I made it through several aisles. I started my New Year’s Eve resolution a tad bit early. I thought of me first. Do you have any idea how difficult a task it is to think of me first? It felt awkward, tongue-tied, and rough around the edges, but I forced myself.
I have always thought of others before me, and it is not always a good idea, because you can lose respect for yourself as well as others can take it for granted that you will always be there, so you let yourself be set-up to a point for pain.
So in ending this post, I have posted what I did for me yesterday. I want my home to reflect who I am. When I come home from seeing Al, or I need comforting, I want to feel it wrap its arms around me here in my four walls. Here is what I did to begin.
I took my big Christmas tree down and left these two pretty smaller ones up in opposite corners of my living room. They bring me peace and calmness.
I placed this antique wall shelf with prisms. I put a loaf of French bread, a bunch of grapes and a candle on top. In the evenings the lights from the Christmas tree reflect from the prisms and create a nice light show.
Already, I am feeling more calm, confident, and allowing all things behind me to remain in the memory storage box.
The bottom picture is one of my flowers I planted in the early spring. Although I have watered frequently, it shows that it doesn’t like my soft water near as well as God’s water. If I remember right, it is a hydrangea flower. Over three feet tall, and I have 13 bulbs in all. I am disappointed in the wilting of the leaves, but I can not control the drought here in Indiana.
The top photo is what I am hoping is called Chicken and her hens? I am not sure, so I need your help. Is this what it is? I saw it all by itself, in the middle of spring, and felt bad for it, so I got some potting soil and gave it a new home. It has now grown over four inches in height. What should I do with it when the frost comes? I hate to see it die.
You see, I love to photograph beautiful flowers, and look at them, but I can not identify them. I can not have them in the house, as I am allergic to fresh flowers. I tell everyone with laughter in my voice, that if you know me personally and are a family member or friend, you will NOT send roses to my funeral, as I am terribly allergic to roses more than any other flower. I promise I will scare the pants off of you by rising up out of the coffin and sneezing and giving signals that I need a kleenex.