If
you do, you will understand my thinking.
I know that mine love me…at least I think that they do. However, they do not like my taste, they do not like my style – or lack thereof. I can give hundreds of examples of this, but I have been smiling
about one particular example for months now. It took place at Christmas. John and Kate were home. Therefore,
no blame can be placed on Mike for this one.
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| I had nothing to do with it! |
And Kate – for the most part – was innocent. She had a good chuckle and of course
agreed with her brother…but he is the one that started it.
When
David retired, I bought him a sign.
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| Think about it, Mom! |
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| What John said! |
I still love that sign. Every time I look at it, I think of that day. And how we look at things is what really matters.
Semantically, (now that I have thought about it) I
understand that it can be read in two different ways. One might read it and choose
to think that the owner was complaining about the life they had experienced
so far. Another might read it
differently. It is a matter of choice. As with all things lately, I think about things in relation
to age and where I am in life. To
me, that sign reminds me that every day that I wake up is a day in which life
can get better – if I choose to make
it better.
Periodically,
I remind myself to pick up my copy of Simple Abundance and read it daily. I chose
to do that after the holidays and I came across the following words. There are certain days that seem
perfect. “You want to spray a
fixative on the whole day and keep it forever”. I am very greedy.
I want more. I want that
quote to be the norm, but I choose
to see how many days I can make even better than the one that went before.
I
know from talking with friends that we all experience these thoughts as we
age. We talk about it. We read about it. We think about it. Wee whine about it…and sometimes, we
even cry about it.
Recently,
I came across the book Lydia’s Party by Margaret Hawkins. It was a slow starter…. but it got
better. Keep in mind that I am an
easy reader – some would call me a trashy reader. I stay away from the deep subjects. However, although an easy read, Lydia’s
Party raised subjects that we all think about as we age. It was sad and joyful – just like the
lives that we all experience from day to day. It all comes down to how we look at those days and how we choose to use them.
The book was prefaced with a quote from Carl Jung. “We cannot live the afternoon of life according to the program of life’s morning; for what was great in the morning will be little at evening and what in the morning was true will at evening have become a lie.” Now who am I to disagree with Jung and I know that there is some truth to these words. However, I do have the choice to make my ‘evening’ as great as my ‘morning’. In fact, I choose to make it even better. No lie! I find that life is like the weather – and around here the weather has not been that great of late. It has been foggy and cool in the morning – at best. There have been brief bursts of beautiful sunlight followed by the chilly darkness. Not only do I appreciate whatever warmth of the sun that I am given, I have chosen to conscientiously be more appreciative of the beautiful nighttime sky that I see from the hot tub.
Early
on in the book I read the following words. “Mostly she didn’t mind it, this softening. She liked the blunting effect of aging;
the way things that once seemed so important had revealed themselves not to be
– or not to be any longer. She
liked knowing that so much difficult terrain was behind her, in the rearview
mirror and shrinking fast. And she
liked the accumulations – things, traditions, people, contrasting layers of
friends and routines. She told
herself that it was just a particular version of her body that she missed,
though she knew it was more than that.
What she really missed was the feeling that she used to have was that
anything was still possible.”
The ‘take away’, the kernel of those words
for me is the liking of accumulations.
I love my traditions and routines – even the kinky sign. Lydia loved her
yearly parties with her circle of friends. Like Lydia, I love seeing family and friends.
I
love the lunches and the dinners and the ice creams and the coffees and the
time spent around our marred dining room table. More than those things…I love the people that share them
with me who are my family by blood or by choice.
Seeing
family is actually one of the reasons that I pushed the button on this blog
today. Yesterday, I got to spend
time with some of the younger Kelly offspring – from the Bresland Branch - ones
that I have not seen for too long.
We were together by choice, not
because someone died…. why do people choose
to wait for a reason like that.
It
was a great day – one of those that some would want to spray fixative on and
keep it forever. We had good food
prepared by all. We all shared
laughs and memories – many happy and some sad. We watched the multitude of
birds feeding in the front yard, the beautiful black horses galloping across
the field, and marveled at the fox that came quite close to the house as if he
wanted to join the party.
We
talked about all the houses we lived in (including the now lost McAuliffe
homestead) and the neighbors that we had.
We remembered how we played outside until it was dark and used to sneak
into the casket company to hide and play some more.
All
of us seemed to share some adventures on what we fondly called Kimball
hill. All involved grapevines,
bikes, sleds, and many minor injuries.
We talked the different foods that Jo Jo, Aunt Polly, and my mother
made. Funny…none of us remembered Nellie cooking much!
We talked about the times that we would fill the steps on the cottage at the lake and I was amazed at how many the “youngers” remembered. They did not remember Uncle Mike. He would have been gone long before they came along, but I remembered how he always brought me a heart shaped box of chocolates on Valentine’s Day. We laughed over names. They remembered Tookie – but for the life of them, they could not come up with her real name. They all remembered Bubba, but again wondered where the name came from. Sue Cray Durham posted on the picture: “I should have been there”. Through conversation – she was. I wonder if her ears were burning. Peggy shared the fun we had going to Anna Mae’s 90th Birthday Party and how she received a box of rocks as a present. One of the girls had seen Brigid McAuliffe and said that she looked exactly the same except taller. We talked about the “Beverly’s” and how that is the only family tree branch that I have not been able to locate. It was just a good day to remember the past that we shared.
We talked about the times that we would fill the steps on the cottage at the lake and I was amazed at how many the “youngers” remembered. They did not remember Uncle Mike. He would have been gone long before they came along, but I remembered how he always brought me a heart shaped box of chocolates on Valentine’s Day. We laughed over names. They remembered Tookie – but for the life of them, they could not come up with her real name. They all remembered Bubba, but again wondered where the name came from. Sue Cray Durham posted on the picture: “I should have been there”. Through conversation – she was. I wonder if her ears were burning. Peggy shared the fun we had going to Anna Mae’s 90th Birthday Party and how she received a box of rocks as a present. One of the girls had seen Brigid McAuliffe and said that she looked exactly the same except taller. We talked about the “Beverly’s” and how that is the only family tree branch that I have not been able to locate. It was just a good day to remember the past that we shared.
I want to keep all the memories from the
past forever, but I do not always want to look
in that rear view mirror only. I
want to remember to look in all the
mirrors. What I see in the
rear view mirror was so filled with the rich experiences of growing up in a
large extended family has and will continue to help me make better choices as I glance into the mirror
that lies in front of me.
I
have – with age- learned that it truly is important to look in all the
mirrors - to look through all the lenses. This allows us to
know and understand that anything we choose
to do is still possible. The
most important thing is to choose
how we look at things.



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