This is what’s on my mind …
A life in a day
The Subaru heads towards home this morning. After a three-day getaway, it is onward and upward to new stories of a different kind.
Breakfast will not be served between 8:30 and 10 and have a variety of fresh baked breads, fresh juice and a hot meal of caramel French toast, egg strata , fresh fruit and bacon or country ham with red-eye gravy.
We will not be walking to waterfalls and driving down North Georgia’s lovely roads. Or meeting people, perhaps from Albuquerque, which we did, yesterday morning at breakfast.
One thing that will be the same for me, is that I will stroll a garden, just as I have done here, the last three days. But it will be my garden.
Mine isn’t as grand or mature, or shady, or next to a swimming pool with a pasture and then tree-line behind it. But that is perfectly fine. I don’t get to work in this one. This one is someone else’s dream.
This, you might find weird. Yes, it was nice to get away and see new scenery. I enjoy doing that. It is good to do. But even though it is gorgeous here and lovely and there is housekeeping, and I really was looking forward to getting away, it didn’t take me long to realize that I wear the ruby red slippers.
Home is where I am most content.
Oh,it is where I can get discontent, too. But whenI have a bit of distance between here and there, I see things a bit more clearly. I love my mornings at home and no where that I go will give me more pleasure … unless I could wake up with my family near me.
Yes, the ocean and the mountains are beautiful, but to me, at this point in my life, my backyard sanctuary fills me with more joy than places I have no connection with.
There is something meaningful about the work we have done to get our peace of serenity.
I don’t sweat much here. I sweat at home. I look like Shrek as I haul things and dig clay and hoist hoses and such. And though I can’t move by the afternoon, I miss it. I am not a good relaxer. And I am not one that is destination-driven.
The waterfalls we hiked to were glorious, but what mattered to me was that, despite Nick not being able to do much walking, he made the effort. Besides the fact that my eyes play tricks on me with roots and I can land on my face, I did it. We did it hand in hand. I helped Nick got up the mountain and he helped me walk down.
That is how it has been for almost 46 years.
But being away from home is hard for Nick. He doesn’t sleep well, (even less than at home). So he has been very tired. And that is hard. At home, he has his routine and knows when and where he can nap.
So, though he enjoys getting away, or at least the thought of getting away, it isn’t easy for him.
I did think of something this morning, after my walk through the garden … I think of each day as a life. It is fun to think about it that way. Instead of thinking, oh, I am 66 and there isn’t much time left, I think, hum, each morning, I have a new life to live. I shall make the most of this day and at the end of it, look at it and say, wow, I lived a good life, today.
I am a very weird nut. I don’t relax on command. Oh heck, I can’t remember where I was taking this. I will take a cup of tea and ponder. Oh yes. I am a weird nut. I find more joy in accomplishing something and in trying to relax. I like it when, after, I have done some hard work, relaxation comes to me because my energy is gone. If I have too much energy in me,I can’t relax.
I learned this at one moment in my life. I had told my sister-in-law, that I would be with her when she died.
Cancer was ending her life too soon.
I had never been with someone when they were transitioning from east to heaven. And this passage wasn’t an easy one.
Mdear sister-in-law, was incoherent, not conscious, but was saying things in such a way that she was stressed and being pulled and fighting.
We all rubbed her hand and kept saying, “relax”.
Duh. We didn’t’ know what to say. But how does someone who is dying and doesn’t want to, relax?
The Hospice nurse told me that some people have a difficult time being born and some people have a difficult time dying. Relaxing might not be part of this process and just because we told her to relax, that didn’t mean it was going to happen.
I gues that relaxation is different,for different people. I relax by doing work. Some relax by tinkering or knitting or playing with cars. Some, relax by sitting and doing nothing.
Doing nothing, for me, is sort of stressful. Yes, I have loved seeing new things, tasting great food, but you know what? I think that I am ready to go back home where I can work in my garden, can some peaches, and play with The Boy. And know tht Nick is more comfortable.
That is relaxing.