When thinking my life so odd from others then sadness and loneliness sets in. While walking on this unworldly gorgeous spring day, it occurred to me that my thoughts are making me feel this way.
Let it go. My quiet life is just what is needed. Others may travel by boat, plane, train, or automobile, and spend a lot of time with others in crowds or groups, but that doesn’t mean my life is any less of a life.
Maybe it is not attractive to others, but for me, joy. Gratitude flowed in with the reversal of my thoughts. Oh, what joy right here underfoot with the lush, lush, green grass, soft breezes through my hair, soothing birdsongs like celestial melodies, and the quiet interrupted only by the distant clatter of a train or low flying plane.
Arranging another fresh bouquet of lilacs, the Lily of the Valley have blossomed too, so another bouquet by the sink. The wild honeysuckle are blooming filling me up with their scent walking by. The sights and sounds on this little plot of land are exciting enough and fill me up daily with their splendor.
Oh, how lovely spring is! And oh, how lucky my life is just as it is.
The day was magical, mystical, warm breezy and full of sun. An orb around it cast a rainbow on a nearby cloud as our kites flew through it, swinging and swaying in the currents happily.
These are the moments to dwell on and cherish, not the nightly waking’s when negative thoughts implode interfering with sleep. The hate for Chet, now dead, centered in my being like a black, heavy, boulder- dormant, yet still alive. How to toss that load over the cliff, first up then out with a chisel.
Then moving onto other things, sleep becoming impossible- so it was TV, pot oil, and a cup of fat free cocoa. Tryptophan-casein tryptic hydrolysate (CTH), a component in milk, relieves stress and enhances sleep, warming it in the microwave giving it a boost.
Today a new day without the grogginess of taking a Xanax, that hateful medication which when drawn to becomes necessary more and more. Not today.
It is a beautiful, cool, spring day, with time keeping warm on the patio watering seeds, and refilling the bird bath which is widely used each day.
Two rabbits run in front of me walking down the path to the water making me chuckle. One turns to look and stare, my words of comfort making its ears perk towards my voice.
We each carry struggles. How it’s carried matters to me. My goals include focusing on what keeps me sane, the positives. Another is to show my sons how to grow old gracefully. My grandmother Pearl did that for me and hopefully some of her fortitude has been passed down.
It is good to have goals and even if never meeting them, but progress occurs eventually if persistent.
How many are able to take time each day to find a quiet place outside? My luck and joy are right in my own backyard.
No phone, TV, radio. No one knocking at the door or dropping off a package. No one, nothing but the cooing of mourning doves. Mixing with their sweet soothing call the harmonious lullaby of songbirds’ melodies.
It was chilly, but the sun peeked out to warm my bones, as nature bathed me in peace.
As Samuel’s healing progresses, so too my mood with less anxiety, enough so that Shane brought the kids over for lasagna yesterday at lunchtime during his break from work at his home office.
My granddaughter spent the rest of day and overnight and is still nestled in the little bedroom painted pale pink for just such an occasion adorned with sticky backed mirrored hearts on the walls.
She spent hours making paper flowers prepared beforehand for her, a bouquet of hyacinths for her own room, and one for her mom.
Almost two weeks go by with sleep, then bam, laying there till Samuel comes to bed three hours later realizing a sleep med was needed. So late night TV for an hour until it takes effect.
But why? No fear or anxiety was noticed, yet niggling deep down on later inspection the next day there lies great fear (s). Fear tamped down because aren’t we all supposed to be on a tra la la trail? All positive with a go forward attitude?
My instincts take me other places especially in the winter. And fear is the sled ridden through the cold snow of what’s to come. After years of pain, Samuel’s hip is now grinding bone on bone. We saw two specialists, both expert at what they do, but one goes in from the front without cutting through muscle and we chose him.
It’s scheduled in a few weeks. He is concerned, and joined to the hip with him in our partnership, so am I.
To keep worried hands busy…paper peonies made with coffee filters scribbled with pink marker around the edges, wet the filters, then the pink bleeds throughout.
Onto the first of many hyacinths with many more colors to come.