BooWho

Things I want to keep in mind.

Month: July, 2016

The wispy line

Heartache. We all experience it. Sometimes it is just a little jab, just enough to get your attention. Other times, it is a full-on stab, dead center. Direct hit. Hit and sink.

We feel it as children. When we are separated from our parents – the longing, the fear, the aching in our chest and belly. When will we see them again? Will they forget us? Or when we make them angry – the anxiety and distress. When will we be forgiven and allowed back into the fold?

As we mature, the heartache matures. We go to school, to college, the army, to work. We fall in love, move-in together, move out, fall in love again, get married, get divorced. We rent, we buy, we sell a house or two. We have friends at school, at work and in every neighborhood of our lives. Some we keep forever, some fade away. Throughout the progression of our lives, we continue to experience heartache. We are invariably leaving something behind or getting left behind and are in an erratic state of loss.

As a mother, heartache is part of both the bonding and the severance package with your children. You experience it at their first tear and that mewling cry of birth. With every broken heart or fight with a best friend; every emergency room visit; every injury no matter how small; every sorrow and regret, for whatever reason; you are right in there – weeping the same tears – seeking ways to comfort, to heal.

It doesn’t matter if they are 4 or 50 – you feel their heartache as your own. Oh sure, we can try to detach; to live our own lives – to let them figure things out without getting emotionally entangled. Good luck with that. This is the flesh of your flesh. You birthed that being. Even though that umbilical cord was long ago severed, the connection remains. Like a wispy opaque line that lingers…drifting quietly between the two of you, you feel it more than see it.

Sometimes you can feel that line even if you haven’t birthed that person. Perhaps they are a sibling, a friend, a child of your heart. And with that line, inevitably, heartache follows. It does not discriminate.

Most of us can feel heartache for complete strangers. It is the impetus for us to DO something to help any being in need, to try to ease their heartache. We can’t alleviate heartache for everyone and, often, not even for those we love the most. But feeling it, trying to understand it, and showing concern can sometimes be enough.

Sometimes, just holding on to that wispy line can be enough.

Begin again

You will know in your heart of hearts when it is time. There has been pain, fear and dread for a long time. Self-doubt has been the main course for far too long. There is strength inside, there has always been strength inside. That strength was not lying dormant – it was waiting in the shadows for snippets of light and warmth, awaiting an invitation. Even in the darkest days, it was not resting on its’ haunches; it was crouching, making ready for fight or flight.

When you know, when you feel that surge, you will stand. Begin again. You will unsheathe the might that led you to this place.

Begin again. Start living in your own light. It will be a sliver in the beginning, but it will spread just as sunlight does at dawn, eventually touching every inch of the valley.

It is easy to say, harder to do – but it can be done. Inside is the voice of power. Use that voice. Begin again.

Spending wisely

My original intent was to sit down and write a blog article but there were so many sparkly things to distract me! It’s Prime Day on Amazon! Spent a good 45 minutes looking at sales on things I don’t need. Then, I searched a topic on Bing and ended up reading several articles. Damn those links to other articles! I was able to avoid Pinterest, but I did drop in on Facebook just for a brief run through. Oh, and then I needed some music to listen to as I write and spent 20 minutes trying to navigate through iTunes! Way too many distractions… Time thieves, every one!

Oh, and look out my window! The sun is rising and the sky is a beautiful, clear blue. I think I need to wash the windows, they are really disgusting. (When did I last wash them?) Meanwhile, there are the hummingbirds fighting over the feeder outside the window. Flit, flit, flit – I can relate.

It certainly is easy to lose track of time and end up having done nothing of substance with my morning, one of the perks and disadvantages of being retired and having free time. I can’t feel bad about that or should I say “won’t” – too many years of not having that glorious time. I watch my kids and some of my younger friends battle with having enough time to take care of their jobs, their kids, their homes and their own self-care. I remember those days well, so I’m going to be grateful for this wonderful, comparatively easy time in my life.

I also think of my mother, living out her days in a memory care facility. Time is irrelevant to her. Days pass unnoticed.

I am grateful that I can still experience time as a commodity worth holding and cherishing. I can still count moments. I can still dread hard times. I can remember good and difficult times with the same fervor. I may not remember every moment – but I can treasure the moments I do remember.

I’ve wished that time would pass quickly so that some tragic event and all the pain involved could just be over; or so that a wonderful event I was anticipating could finally arrive. I’ve wished time would slow down, or stop, on days that were particularly happy and life was pleasant and peaceful. There has been time spent waiting in a hospital, hoping for a recovery. Time waiting for a pregnancy to go to fullterm, to see that innocent little face for the first time. Time waiting to finally have some independence; to make my own choices and be on my own; to have someone I needed and wanted; to have children; for children to grow up; for grandchildren to arrive; for retirement; for freedom from worry (there’s no such thing, by the way!). So much time spent waiting, hoping, dreaming, agonizing, wishing.

When you are young and foolish, you wish so much of your time away. When you are old and foolish, you wish for that time back. Why does the mind flit from topic to topic in these quiet and laidback days? Because it can.