It is amazing how a new day can turn things around. Last week I was worn out, exhausted, sick, and just sort of done with the world. Could not see the forest for the trees or the beauty within. Whew. Glad not to be in that place anymore.
Today and the past few days, there has been peace, sunshine, renewed health (though not totally), and strength. It takes small steps some days to decide that I want to move forward, but each small step builds on another and things really do change even with just small things. Making a hot breakfast, trying a new recipe that everyone loved, those things, just small things made a huge difference. Maybe it was the act of showing love to the family by cooking - I hate cooking, so it is a huge act of love and sacrifice for me. I love leftovers because it is a ton less cooking, but to make something from scratch - whew! But when everyone loves it, it is so rewarding! In our midwestern, eastern european/german/whatever culture here in Wisconsin, food is the evidence of love. Feeding our family is evidence of love. Just sort of the way things are. So, the act of cooking speaks volumes, probably more to me than to the family. It reminds me that I am giving love, that love is an act, an action, not just a feeling. Love is a verb. Doing it reminded me of our connections. Still would not choose to do it, but of course it must be done! LOL! I would much rather be outside, with the animals, with the kids, puttering, whatever, but I am starting to find more joy in cooking than I have in the past. Whatever, who cares, it is good.
I can see God moving again. I do love the spring, love getting past St. Patrick's day. It has been 26 years now since my dad died, and I still find myself sad on that day and the days leading up to it. But knowing that it will pass, and the sadness will pass always gives hope. Still not fun to get through. Last night I sat working with an elderly gentleman at the nursing home, who is about the age my dad would be now, had he lived. It was strange to look at him, to view him as he could be who my dad would be now, and to not be somewhat grateful that my father had not gone on to dementia, loss of function and whatever may have come from the brain tumor. He lived a vibrant, strong life up until the illness came, and it was short-lived, three long months, but only three months, not years. I wish I could know what he would think of me now (I do think he would be proud of who I am now), I wish he could have met his grandchildren, I wish I could talk with him. But, it is OK. I know that someday I will see him again, and will love to talk with him then about all these things. I had the foundation he laid for me, I had that to build on. So for anyone reading this who doesn't think that you can really affect your children for life when they are little, I am here to tell you that what you do and who you are will stay with them, even if you are gone. I remember so much. It really has shaped me. My mother did too, a great deal, but the impact my dad had lives strongly, maybe because he didn't have anything further beyond that day to pour into me. So I hold on to all that he did pour into me. My mother I got to know as a real person, and in different ways, now that I am an adult too. And my dad and I were so similar in many ways, in ways that my mom doesn't understand, and that is OK. Personalities are what they are.
Life is an adventure, meant to be lived fully for each moment that we have. We do the best that we can, each moment. And that is what we can do. God has a plan, we are part of the tapestry, part of the weaving, but we won't see how it all fits together until it is done, until we can see if from above. So, we just need to follow our own little part. And time to go do my part now! Laundry, shower, chores, work, schooling the kids, hugs and kisses, I think that covers it!!! LOL!
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