The world has stopped. I have, too. My priorities these days are rest and sleep. I do the must do(s). Then I add on a thing or two if I comfortably can. I haven’t been a very restful person, always striving for improvement. I’ve never strived for more stuff, money, status but I work hard at being a better person, being more productive, etc. I haven’t been a very quiet person either. It’s a funny thing to say, when as a child my adults complain that I don’t talk enough. But being a nurse and working with the public, I picked up the gift of gab. Retirement hasn’t changed that. Talking is exhausting sometimes.

It’s good to stop, dropping all that stuff on my shoulders. Good enough is good enough. Rest and sleep are musts for my immune system. I can’t afford to fall into anxiety and/or depression. I’ve given up my  one Wonder Woman act and golden lasso. I get help wherever and whenever offered.

It’s Good Friday. I wish I could say I feel the holiness of it, but I can only sense the eeriness. God feels absent. We have to work through this ourselves, together. I see Jesus on the cross. I see him hanging on the wall. Did God sent his only begotten son down on earth to guide us? Does He love us that much? Can we be saved? Do I have enough faith?

I have learned not to ask the why of things. I try not to take anything personally. It is hard though. The whys of what is happening to me and to the world. They play their tunes in my head. It is exhausting, adding to the stress and anxiety of the everyday life. Locked down, in quarantine, social distancing, whatever mode we are in – life still has to be lived. Yesterday was hard. Another checkup for my mother at the Eye Center in the hospital. 3 months of shingles and its complications.

I am more stressed and anxious over my mother’s illness than the Coronavirus. I’ve lived and worked through the HIV and SARS crises. Though stressful and scary, I did have some control by wearing protective equipment and being cautious. With my mother’s illness, I have no control. I take her for medical attention and being with her. I wonder often if I’ve done a good job though I did the best I could. The rest was all on her. I cannot take over any of her pain and suffering. I cannot take over anyone else’s pain and suffering. We must each carry our own.

If there are any answeres to the many whys floating in my head, it is to teach me resilence and boundaries. It is to teach me I am not all powerful. I cannot fix everything. In these days, I am learning to survive. I am my own life raft. I need to throw off everything except what I need to stay afloat. Faith is my oar. I will light my candles again tonight.



It’s Good Friday.  I’m feeling a tad sad.  Not trying to sound poetic or anything. It’s just the way the words tumble out.  I’m sitting here, sipping my infamous cup of tea.  I’m tapping on the keyboard to soothe my soul.  I know. I sound like a broken keyboard.  But this is my space so I shan’t apologize for my repetitiveness.  I’m doing what makes me feel good.

IMG_4746Ah, the sun is showing itself. Just in time, too.  The tears were almost washing down my face.  I see that some of my tomatoes and onions are poking their heads through the soil.  They’re enough to bring a smile and stem the anxiety fluttering in my heart. How can one help it?  The world has gone to hell in a handbasket – Paris, Belgium, my street.  No place is safe. Was there ever?

IMG_3895Let me move on, away from the anxieties of the world.  Let me hold on to what is near and dear. Better to count the eggs in the Easter basket than dwell on the world’s handbasket. Be here now.  Everything is as it should be.  There is nothing to fix.



IMG_2484Today is Good Friday.  It is a good day, though it is overcast and cool.  It is the kind of weather that unsettles and saps my energy.  But Sheba has had a couple of good days and nights now.  She is herself again.  I am very grateful to see my happy puppy again.  She is still my baby at 8 1/2.

This morning she wanted to play.  It’s been awhile. When I asked her, she gleefully ran into the sunroom for her toys.  She loves to play tug of war. She growls, teasing me to take her stick.  Come and get it!  She is a playful girl.

You have to take the difficult times along with all the days in between.  The good days are all the sweeter after the trying times.  All the days make up what we call life.  It is what it is.

Acceptance is hard.  This I know.  But still…I am grateful for this moment to be here – as it is.




I woke this morning to more snow, then rain. God seemed displeased with us, shedding tears over his children.

So, how may I serve you, Father, on this Good Friday?

  • May I love myself more so that I can love others just as well.
  • May I be kinder to myself so that I can have forgiveness in my heart.
  • May I be more silent so that I can feel more peace in this world.
  • May I be less judgemental and find less fault in others.
  • May I have more faith in myself and less doubt of others.
  • May I have more patience and less anger.
  • May I have more wisdom and less stubbornness.