After lunch is a always the hardest time for me. There is freshness and momentum in the morning. You wake up, get up, dress up and show up. There’s an expectacy. The day is beginning. There is a promise in the air, a building up and then the unfolding of things. Now lunch is had. All that is left are the dirty dishes, the leftover soup and noodles to put away. Sheba is acting up, wanting attention and her supper. She is always an hour early. She gets a reprimand. I settle in my chair with my dandelion tea. I need a bit of Vitamin C and soothing. No sun in my room today.

I’m not really whining. It’s my inhale and exhale in my own safe space. It’s my own way of navigating through the labyrinth of life. Others’ exhale echo back with their ideas and wisdom of how to be, how to do. Sometimes their echoes are comfort, hugs travelling through the air. It is amazing. I’m feeling better already, comforted by their presence. I have been hearing their advice, guiding me through this holiday season.

My guardian angels have been hovering around me. Can you hear the flutter of wings? They stop my thoughts when they wander in the wrong direction. They silence my words in my mouth before they cause harm. They gently steer me into doing good things rather than hurtful ways. I am covered with their fairy dust.

Sheba is fed. The dishwasher is going. Somehow my pile of dirty pots and pans are washed and drying. The soup put away. The floor vacuumed. We are ready for our walk before it gets late. I am glad when it’s over and done with, especially in winter. I try not to short her even when it is cold. She loves the snow and is friskier, rolling in it.  Today is considerably warmer than yesterday so we do an extra block.

On difficult days, I try not to think of that word. I’m becoming my mother. I have asked her if she has hard days. Of course! She retorts. But I don’t use those words- hard, difficult. Strike them from your vocabulary. Just do. So that is what I do. I do this, then this, and so on and on….till it’s all done.


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