It’s not quite Friday but it’s close enough for me. I’ve missed Friday Fictioneers for the last few weeks. I miss the telling of a story in 100 words. Once again, let me thank Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple for hosting us. I hope I haven’t lost my words somewhere in the vineyards of France.
PHOTO PROMPT-Copyright-Melanie Greenwood
How dare you!” Alice huffed. She stood, pushing back her chair. Hands on hips, she glared down at the young woman.
Her eyes were met with cold stony blankness. She knew by the proud tilt of the head that she had gotten nowhere. She accepted the obvious. She was tired of it all.
Alice sighed heavily. She put the chair back neatly under the table. The young woman made no move. The tears were gone. Her face was smooth and calm like marble.
C’est la vie. Alice thought to herself. It was time to stop the words and just live.
What really matters to me is that I am able to give back to my mother what she has given to me….love and attention. So when she tells me that she is missing her sister and that she is feeling so not all right and could I take her out for coffee, it is my pleasure to do so.
I had been wondering how she would deal with my auntie’s death. Even though they were separated by many miles, they spoke frequently on the telephone up to 2 weeks before my auntie’s death. By then she was not herself anymore. She was sometimes confused and angry, hitting and scratching at my cousins, too weak to speak with my mother. But she died peacefully at home.
My mother was a bit surprised by her own grief. She felt a bit ashamed of her ‘weakness’. She said that all her siblings were like that. My uncles all cried unabashedly at the funeral. When someone said that they shouldn’t be crying because my aunt was, after all 93, they cried all the harder. So that’s my mother’s side of the family. They lived in each others’ hearts.
My coffee times with my mother are somewhat akin to Tuesdays with Morrie. It’s been a long time since I have read the book, but I remember that those Tuesdays were filled with love, communication and acceptance. That’s how I feel about my time I spent with my mother. She is a great storyteller and a very wise woman despite her lack of formal education. I am who I am because of my mother. And it is a wonderful thing.
Okay people, I think I’m back to normal – my normal that is. But that is all that counts, isn’t it?
For a couple of days, I had lost my balance, my center….my zen. I was back to the old self of trying to figure people out, wondering why they are the way they are, wanting them to change – for me, bashing my head against a concrete wall. I was judging, criticizing, non-accepting. I kept up a litany of : If only leopards could change their spots and zebras could change their stripes. Oh, what a bore I was until I saw that it was I who need to change my spots and stripes.
I haven’t figured out the how’s yet but seeing my error is a big bing, bing, bing. I am sure that Oprah would approve. Do you know that she is coming to Saskatoon on Sunday and that she is sold out and they had to add 400 extra seats? That is what I heard anyways. I am surprised that I have no desire to go, being a huge fan of hers for many years.
I think I have finally grown up. I do not need heroes any more. I have decided to be my own hero and listen to the whispers of my own heart. I am getting to know who I am. I am okay. I know what to do. The world is a good place. The leopards can keep their spots. Zebras have stripes and I am okay with all that. Peace and love.
I am shifting through a kaleidoscope of moods and feelings, wishing that I could say that they are all good, all awesome. Unfortunately that is not the case. But the one good thing that I can say is I am enjoying the sunshine and the warmth of my sun room.
It is no doubt that this shifting is caused partly by my shift work. It is not natural to reverse our sleeping patterns. It is not natural to submerged oneself in such a work atmosphere without consequences. I am taking note and acknowledging these things so that I do not beat myself up too badly.
I am also what you would call ‘sensitive’. I do not handle changes in the weather well. Does that sound like an excuse? Maybe, but it is my truth. It causes me physical discomfort, so I have to give it credence and acceptance.
It is good that I am able to give all these things credence and acceptance. These are mine truths and realities, difficult for those who do not share them to understand. You have to walk in the same shoes to have a knowing. And I am lucky this morning to find three brave women blogging about similar issues. Thank you girls!
Today is election day in the United States of America. I am hoping that people are exercising their right to choose..even though there are only two choices. It also reminds me that in life we can also elect to choose – on how it is we respond in all circumstances.
Though I am not feeling my best at any moment, I am learning to live in the moment. I am learning how to do my best at that moment. I am learning to pause in the moment, and not do the knee-jerk thing. Often I do fail. The knee is faster in the jerking than the pausing.
My positive pause today was the mailman. We had a nice visit at the door. I learned that Alice doesn’t live here anymore and he’s married to my mother’s friend’s daughter. His visit gave me a pause, a desired rest from my negative stream of thoughts and bad feelings.
Then I saw my neighbour’s visitor backed his truck over my low growing Junipers, not once but twice. It would have been more forgivable if he was a woman, but a man who can’t back up a truck onto a wide driveway? But in the end, I did forgive him. Maybe he was angry with my neighbour!
I can understand that. You see in all things, forgiveness can be possible. Sometimes we have to give ourselves a little more time, a little more space and some passion for ourselves. Sometimes it is not all our faults.
In my house of moods, I have learned to use them to my own advantage. Instead of feeling the anger, I use that energy to clean, tidy, dust, etc. I put on my dancing shoes and set the timer for 5 minute intervals. I sway and bob to the tune of ‘Stayin’ Alive as I do my stuff. The timer going off at 5 minutes keeps me moving fast and on the job.
Where am I this fine Saturday morning? I am not behind. It is almost 11:30. The sun is just giving me a big burst of hello.
I was planning to be out in the dog park before lunch and stopping at London Drugs to get some pictures developed to send to Rod’s Auntie Flo. But getting photos transferred from one gadget to another took me longer than expected. No matter how fast and expedient our igadets are, things cannot be done with just a blink of an eye…unless Genies really exist. Have you heard of the TV series, I Dream of Jeannie?
So I am just changing the order of my to do list. I have this time and space before lunch. It is mine to write, to mark my progress, to breathe, to enjoy and celebrate with the sun. I am remembering how wonderful I felt talking to the woman from the Holy Spirit Parish Office yesterday. It is her acceptance of my request and no trying to change my mind. I remember my body going ahhhhh. Have you ever felt that sense of relief and connection talking to someone unseen and unknown over the phone?
It is that kind of acceptance of who we are that we all long for. It is for me, anyways. Sometimes, I have this great loneliness in me that seems impossible. I feel this great big hole that is unfillable. Is there such a word? Have you ever felt that way? Those are the times when I phone people and the whole universe is out in the malls or at Walmart. I should have been phoning God instead.
He must have heard me just now. The sun is so bright, lighting up the whole sunroom. And I am toasty warm. This morning the scale says I’m 2 pounds lighter..before a breakfast of one poached egg on toast. I am keeping a food diary to keep track of my intake, what food agrees with me and what doesn’t. Results require effort and consciousness!
My time and space are up. It is time to think about lunch.
onethousandandtwo 