I was holding down the fort and working at my bookkeeping job the other day when a few maintenance men came in to fix a few things in my boss' apartment.
The older fellow left and a young lad was left to finish up, then update me on what they did, what they were still working on and their plan to come back.
I listened attentively to ensure I heard and understood the message well enough to relay to my boss upon her return home.
It just so happened that I needed to leave very close to the time the maintenance guy was leaving so I asked him if he was done for now because I would have to leave and couldn't leave the apartment unattended in my boss' absence.
At this point the young guy looked like he would have liked to vanish into thin air. He nattered a little bit and apologized profusely, "I'm sorry. I thought you lived here. I'm sorry ... I just assumed ..."
My boss lives in a high end seniors apartment. I often say if I knew I had only four months to live, I would live there. It is that "high end".
Was I offended that this young man assumed I was a resident of a senior's high apartment? Not on your life. I was complimented that he assumed I was wealthy enough to live there.
I guess I could pull off "high end" living. I just need to know I'm in my final months before I can afford to foot the bill.
Thursday, June 28, 2018
My Question is This ...
This is a picture of "Ray", our senior cat in residence.
Ray has found himself a quiet little haven within this house he shares with his younger, annoying (at times), attention seeking younger sibling, "Jet". See below:
Jet has outpaced Ray in the race to become the largest feline in the house. Thus, Jet can no longer fit under this particular piece of furniture. So it has become Ray's "safe place to relax".
Ray can be found napping here each and every morning, during their quiet afternoon cat nap time and basically a lot of the times when I can't find Ray, I find him hiding out here.
Thus my question is ...
... who is ever going to move this large, heavy and awkward cupboard to vacuum the massive amount of cat hair that must be accumulating there?
Does anyone have a special vacuum tool to handle the job? Inquiring minds want to know.
Will This Really Matter in Ten Years?
A simple quest sent me on a short journey the other day. I was seeking an answer I thought I had written down in a letter to Mom. Ten years ago.
Thus my journey began.
In sifting through a few letters during the time frame I was interested in, I found a paragraph I had written that intrigued me.
My youngest son was just starting the fifth grade. He wanted out of the class he was in and was desperate to escape by any means possible. There were no other grade five classes in his school so he begged me to let him either change schools or home school him. My request of him? "Just give it some time".
Ten years later, this incident rang the faintest of bells within my memory. It was akin to looking at a photograph and wondering "Do I remember that incident or do I just remember the picture?" In this case, I wondered, "Do I really remember this or do I only think I do because I am reading my own hand writing?"
Intrigued by this little blast from the past, I asked my son if he remembered this devastating, life altering, all encompassing incident from his past.
He looked at me vacantly. "When was this?" "How old was I?" "What teacher was it?" He couldn't remember.
I thought to myself. "This is a very good lesson for us to remember..."
No matter how devastating a moment may feel at the time, will you remember this in ten years?
I am fortunate enough to have many "ten years ago" incidents within my memory bank. I can remember the big stuff. Ten years later, all that is left is the lessons. The emotion I felt at the time is a distant memory.
Keep the lessons in life. Feel what you need to feel, do what you need to do, react as you need to react to get through and past the moment. Keep the lesson. Try to let the other stuff go. Try to forget.
Will this really matter in ten years?
Thus my journey began.
In sifting through a few letters during the time frame I was interested in, I found a paragraph I had written that intrigued me.
My youngest son was just starting the fifth grade. He wanted out of the class he was in and was desperate to escape by any means possible. There were no other grade five classes in his school so he begged me to let him either change schools or home school him. My request of him? "Just give it some time".
Ten years later, this incident rang the faintest of bells within my memory. It was akin to looking at a photograph and wondering "Do I remember that incident or do I just remember the picture?" In this case, I wondered, "Do I really remember this or do I only think I do because I am reading my own hand writing?"
Intrigued by this little blast from the past, I asked my son if he remembered this devastating, life altering, all encompassing incident from his past.
He looked at me vacantly. "When was this?" "How old was I?" "What teacher was it?" He couldn't remember.
I thought to myself. "This is a very good lesson for us to remember..."
No matter how devastating a moment may feel at the time, will you remember this in ten years?
I am fortunate enough to have many "ten years ago" incidents within my memory bank. I can remember the big stuff. Ten years later, all that is left is the lessons. The emotion I felt at the time is a distant memory.
Keep the lessons in life. Feel what you need to feel, do what you need to do, react as you need to react to get through and past the moment. Keep the lesson. Try to let the other stuff go. Try to forget.
Will this really matter in ten years?
A Mission Statement
So few words, so little time. I guess this is a winning combination. Except for the fact that I have been trying very hard to maintain the habit of writing each day. Morning writing works best for me and there has been a little "scarcity" in my morning hours. Thus I have not been keeping up.
In stepping away from the computer keypad and reflecting, I have begun to wonder that perhaps this is a good thing. As I sit still each morning and sort through the rubble of my mind, is it a positive thing to write down the minutia of my thought processes? I am thinking ... not.
I believe I need to set up some rules for writing here in this little space.
In stepping away from the computer keypad and reflecting, I have begun to wonder that perhaps this is a good thing. As I sit still each morning and sort through the rubble of my mind, is it a positive thing to write down the minutia of my thought processes? I am thinking ... not.
I believe I need to set up some rules for writing here in this little space.
- focus on the positive
- humor
- light hearted life stories with a lesson
- writing from a scar (not a gaping open wound)
- less is more
A mission statement. I need a mission statement to guide my thoughts towards. Without overthinking it, I have returned to a cover letter I once sent off in my quest to become a weekly column writer. This is what I found:
"I am a product of what I have lived, read, heard and witnessed. One sentence or glimpse of life passing by me inspires my daily meanderings. Sometimes deep and insightful. Other times food for thought. Then there are the times when life simply tickles my funny bone."
Two years later, I revamped that cover letter to read:
"Everyone wakes up with the same 24 hours ahead of them. Some of those days are special but most are just another regular day. There are little gems within each day we are given. The days that feel laden with burdens and worries don't last forever (though at times it feels that they do). But in the end, we usually come out the other side of a tough situation a little bit wiser and with a new appreciation of how extraordinary it really is ... just to live 'another ordinary day in our life'."
It can all be wrapped up by focusing on the little gems within each day. It's time to get out of my own head and look up.
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Craving Solitude, Creating Scarcity
There has been a scarcity of thoughts within. Not for lack of thinking. Perhaps due to the fact that I am thinking too much, while at the same time while I feel I am doing too much. Let me stress the word "feel". This is not a truth. It is only a feeling.
There is a heaviness of spirit I seem to take with me wherever I go. I am not the friend, sibling, mother or employee I used to be.
I don't feel the spark of enthusiasm and joy I used to carry along with me. I feel like people can see the cloud of doom and gloom over my head.
Conversations become stiff. I don't see the reflection I used to see in people's eyes. Something or someone has changed. I know that "someone" is me.
I am seeking joyfulness but I am not finding it in the company of others. I am finding it when I am sitting in a quiet spot at home, surrounded by all that comforts me. Leaving home, conversing, being social is hard.
I have to leave my home to go to work five days of the week. This should not be so hard. But it is. I loved working from home, from a place of security and solitude. Taking my work out on the road isn't as hard as it has been. But it has made leaving home on the weekends uncomfortable.
"I can do this," I prompted myself all weekend. "I can do hard things"; "I can do this".
By the end of my Monday, I finally felt like I was ready for the weekend. I had done all the hard things but accomplished not a thing.
There is a heaviness of spirit I seem to take with me wherever I go. I am not the friend, sibling, mother or employee I used to be.
I don't feel the spark of enthusiasm and joy I used to carry along with me. I feel like people can see the cloud of doom and gloom over my head.
Conversations become stiff. I don't see the reflection I used to see in people's eyes. Something or someone has changed. I know that "someone" is me.
I am seeking joyfulness but I am not finding it in the company of others. I am finding it when I am sitting in a quiet spot at home, surrounded by all that comforts me. Leaving home, conversing, being social is hard.
I have to leave my home to go to work five days of the week. This should not be so hard. But it is. I loved working from home, from a place of security and solitude. Taking my work out on the road isn't as hard as it has been. But it has made leaving home on the weekends uncomfortable.
"I can do this," I prompted myself all weekend. "I can do hard things"; "I can do this".
By the end of my Monday, I finally felt like I was ready for the weekend. I had done all the hard things but accomplished not a thing.
*************************************************************************
I walked away from this and then the thoughts came ...
I believe the root of this feeling is the unspoken desire to run out to Mom's. Mom is gone. Her house is gone. I will never be able to run home again.
But by sitting here, within my home that is sprinkled with some of Mom's belongings, I feel her here the most. I can be still and feel her presence.
I want to be home, alone and fill myself up with Mom's presence. That is all ...
Sunday, June 24, 2018
Bliss - In the Eyes of a Momma Cat
I am convinced all I need to know could be learned by watching a cat.
I have no idea how much time was spent gazing at a new Momma Cat and her four kittens yesterday afternoon. It was akin to watching a fire, staring out into the ocean and watching for life.
Momma Cat sprawled out lazily while her kittens ate, played, slept and wrestled amongst themselves. The kittens were 25 days old and are just getting their sea legs. They weebled and wobbled and often toppled over.
They nibbled on each other's ears, they walked over each other, they seemed to instinctively want to climb up on something and those teeny tiny little claws were out in full force as they charted their new territory.
The look in the mother cat's eyes was pure and unadulterated contentment. She was lying in the middle of her world with her kittens all around her, chewing on her ears, climbing over her and she lapped it all up.
This momma was completely content and fulfilled. Her existence was defined by her need to nurture her little family to independence. I told her I wish she had taught me what I needed to know about parenthood before I had my first child.
By the time my second and third children appeared on the scene, I had learned enough to stop and enjoy those moments of complete and utter dependence a newborn child has. There were more moments of bliss with my third child than with any other. I felt like I may have had the look that momma cat had.
My first child however? I was living a life of fear, scarcity, dependence and I was in the thick of learning all I needed to know to survive away from my own family. I was a wreck. I am afraid if I was a cat, I may have eaten my first born.
Is it any wonder that I carry the weight of guilt on my shoulders when it comes to my oldest child? I did not nurture him the way he needed to be nurtured right from the start.
I had not yet learned what that first time momma cat knew instinctively. I was a mere kitten myself when I had my first. I didn't have time to learn what I needed to know to give him the start he needed.
I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. If only I had the sense of that momma cat, things could have been so different ...
I have no idea how much time was spent gazing at a new Momma Cat and her four kittens yesterday afternoon. It was akin to watching a fire, staring out into the ocean and watching for life.
Momma Cat sprawled out lazily while her kittens ate, played, slept and wrestled amongst themselves. The kittens were 25 days old and are just getting their sea legs. They weebled and wobbled and often toppled over.
They nibbled on each other's ears, they walked over each other, they seemed to instinctively want to climb up on something and those teeny tiny little claws were out in full force as they charted their new territory.
The look in the mother cat's eyes was pure and unadulterated contentment. She was lying in the middle of her world with her kittens all around her, chewing on her ears, climbing over her and she lapped it all up.
This momma was completely content and fulfilled. Her existence was defined by her need to nurture her little family to independence. I told her I wish she had taught me what I needed to know about parenthood before I had my first child.
By the time my second and third children appeared on the scene, I had learned enough to stop and enjoy those moments of complete and utter dependence a newborn child has. There were more moments of bliss with my third child than with any other. I felt like I may have had the look that momma cat had.
My first child however? I was living a life of fear, scarcity, dependence and I was in the thick of learning all I needed to know to survive away from my own family. I was a wreck. I am afraid if I was a cat, I may have eaten my first born.
Is it any wonder that I carry the weight of guilt on my shoulders when it comes to my oldest child? I did not nurture him the way he needed to be nurtured right from the start.
I had not yet learned what that first time momma cat knew instinctively. I was a mere kitten myself when I had my first. I didn't have time to learn what I needed to know to give him the start he needed.
I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. If only I had the sense of that momma cat, things could have been so different ...
Friday, June 22, 2018
Hello Weekend!
Well Weekend, you have arrived once again. I was more prepared for you last week. This week I am on standby mode.
The lawn has not been mowed, the car needs gas and the fridge is hungry for some groceries. The house needs a good vacuuming, my hair needs a good washing and the windows could use a little cleaning.
There are things to be done, places to go and I have not done any of the hard things before this day-before-the-weekend has rolled around once again.
I am not sitting in a state of euphoria at the moment but that's okay. We create our own bliss and one cannot appreciate the wonder of life if you live life on a high note all the time.
I'm sitting comfortably on a plateau I know well. I don't have to rush while sitting enjoying this particular view. Everything important has been done and there is always time for all the rest.
I'm in a spot where I can sit back and dream a little when someone asks if I can join them on a last minute holiday.
I'm in a pick up and go mode where I can change directions at a moment's notice.
I may not have all the little details of life tended to at this moment in time. But I will. All in due time.
It isn't going to be the unplugged and blissfully quiet weekend I enjoyed a week ago but the next few days have their own hidden treasures within. Seek and you shall find.
Hello Weekend, my old friend. I look forward to your return and am grateful you are always on the horizon.
The lawn has not been mowed, the car needs gas and the fridge is hungry for some groceries. The house needs a good vacuuming, my hair needs a good washing and the windows could use a little cleaning.
There are things to be done, places to go and I have not done any of the hard things before this day-before-the-weekend has rolled around once again.
I am not sitting in a state of euphoria at the moment but that's okay. We create our own bliss and one cannot appreciate the wonder of life if you live life on a high note all the time.
I'm sitting comfortably on a plateau I know well. I don't have to rush while sitting enjoying this particular view. Everything important has been done and there is always time for all the rest.
I'm in a spot where I can sit back and dream a little when someone asks if I can join them on a last minute holiday.
I'm in a pick up and go mode where I can change directions at a moment's notice.
I may not have all the little details of life tended to at this moment in time. But I will. All in due time.
It isn't going to be the unplugged and blissfully quiet weekend I enjoyed a week ago but the next few days have their own hidden treasures within. Seek and you shall find.
Hello Weekend, my old friend. I look forward to your return and am grateful you are always on the horizon.
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