today

Today I got a beautiful purple cast on my right arm. I only have to wear it three weeks! I admit I feel much safer as my doc told me my wrist is very protected now. But the best part is she said, if it doesn’t hurt, you can pick up your camera!

PS: The zinnias are blooming!

“I am doing something I learned early to do, I am

paying attention to small beauties,

whatever I have-as if it were our duty

to find things to love, to bind ourselves to this world.”

― Sharon Olds, Strike Sparks: Selected Poems, 1980-2002

"Resentment, bitterness, and holding a grudge prevent us from seeing and hearing and tasting and delighting."

— Pema Chödrön (The Wisdom of No Escape: And The Path of Loving-Kindness: How to Love Yourself and Your World)

My friend Donna sends me a beautiful email. It is simple and brief and so full of wisdom that I print it off and tape it to the wall next to my desk. I read it again this morning, and see the beautiful opportunity that has been put before me. An opportunity to stop fighting with my life. A chance to let go of the resentment and anger that I have held on to for far too long, losing sight of love. Instead of looking for a crack through all that resentment, why not let love be the guide to a more peaceful path. A broken wrist is the perfect time to sort through what is truly important and letting go of what does not serve me well. And the chance to walk with him, as his fancy new device adjusts to his - no make that our lifestyle, is a gift.

I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted.

still here

“Life has its way, and it seems to me now that the object might only be to learn how to be graceful, to understand the value of a deep kind of acceptance.”

― Elizabeth Berg, The Pull of the Moon

i dig these images out of the archives, as I can’t hold my camera, and my phone is just not the same. Frustration builds as I hunt and peck for letters, and I am irritated easily with the computer. My arm gets tired and so I stop often to rest it, allowing the resentment I feel to waver some.

There are things I want to say about frustration and acceptance, as both have played a major roll in my days since this injury. But maybe the goal today is just to connect a bit, allow myself to put a few words down for proof that I am still here - learning to turn frustration into moments of growth and open communication.

best laid plans

“Life is haphazard. We plan, and then we deal when the plans go awry. Control is an illusion; best intentions are the best we can do.”

― Anna Quindlen, Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake

But we are finding laughter in the kitchen and finding ways to embrace this conundrum we find ourselves in. We are able to recognize the assets of modern medicine, and understand the opportunity put before us - to work on working together.


“It’s great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.”

― Anna Quindlen, Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake

Last week my husband got a pacemaker. I vowed to care for him, as it has been a bit of journey to get here. Then two days later, while I was out walking Baker, he darted at another dog, tripped me and I fell and broke my right wrist. So now my husband and I are taking care of each other, both of us down to one hand.

As someone who is use to being in controle of the things, I am actually in need of more help than he is right now, as he can use his prominent hand, while I can’t. This is not how it was supposed to be.

gratitude

“But here was the world, screeching its beauty at her day after day, and she felt grateful for it.” 

― Elizabeth Strout, Olive, Again

They call midday and ask him if he wants to come right now and have it done. We look at each other and he says sure. I picked him up a little after 7:00 pm and brought him home. All went great, the doctor said.

why now?

Next month I will turn 68. I am beyond asking myself how this happened. But I am not beyond thinking how time has flown by. Lately tiny memories will arise out of the blue, and I will suddenly find myself acutely aware of something that happened years ago. There are of course the momentous moments of one’s life: births, deaths, job losses, a cancer diagnosis, weddings, graduations, etc. But these memories are for the most part new, and somewhat trivial. Or so I thought.

I sit with them and allow myself time to remember, conjuring up my senses, and indulging myself in this little folly. For truly, what encompasses a life if it is not a string of what we might deem unsung moments. Moments that seem so insignificant that we have buried them for years.

As they float to the surface I find myself engulfed in a rare form of sweetness that has helped me see myself more clearly, and understand myself a little better.

But I can’t help but wonder why now?

“We do not remember days, we remember moments. The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.”

― Cesare Pavese

a poem

The Patience of Ordinary Things by Pat Schneider

It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.
I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?