Same Time Last Year

Sunny Sunday at last! It’s a reason to cheer. I’m feeling a little more optimistic. I have my blue sweater, earrings and eyebrows on. I’m not moving any faster but breakfast and dishes are done. The kitchen floor swept. I have plans of picking up my knitting needles and starting another logcabin quilt. My sister said she would love one. It’s easier when you are making it for someone. Having projects is good for the heart and soul. And it is good to follow through and finish. So I shall work on following through to finish this Ultimate Blog Challenge.

I am feeling grateful on this Sunday remembering how far I’ve come from the same time last year. This time last year was the 3rd month after my mother had passed. I had tubes in my ears. I was still without much hearing but had alot of choral music and singing in my head. It drove me a bit batty. I felt cognitively impaired and exhausted. The good thing was I was able to sleep. It was in January that I started a daily journal, charting how I was hearing and the noise in my head. I stopped sometimes in June because I was too focused on my maladies. It wasn’t good for my mental or physical health.

This time last year I was stressed and distressed. I was surprisingly not depressed. I knew I had to be careful and not sink into those blues. I had to keep my spirits up to heal. I read Caroline Myss’s and Herbert Benson’s books on healing. I meditated on the word joy. I painted it. I walked to the mall, the Dollar Store, the Asian Market. I walked somewhere every day. Today I am surprised by how much I did this time last year.

I am rejoicing at this recollection of my warrior self. I still have it in me to ‘joy’ on. February is on the horizon. My 2026 100dayproject will be doing another 100 logcabin quilt squares. I better sharpen my rotary cutter, clean and oil my Bernina 790 sewing machine.

This Time Last Year

Another beautiful sunny August morning, the kind that you want to last forever. I know it can’t. And so I linger in it and savour, taking in as much as I can in these moments. This time last year my mother was still alive, still breathing, still getting up. This time last year, I was going to the Asian Market to get the things she wanted to cook with. This time last year my greenhouse was full of bitter melon vines and fruit. What a difference a year makes.

This year there is no mother. She has departed 10 months now. Life feels strange without her and yet it goes on. We go on. This year there is no bitter melon in the greenhouse. They would not and did not thrive. Perhaps there has been enough bitterness this year. And I did grow them for her though I love them, too. Maybe next year I can try growing them again. There is a time for everything.