So much to do

Today's pics are ones I took last night, dried flowers collected by the grandgirls and my youngest daughter that adorn our fireplace mantle.

These post-Thanksgiving days are...strange. Such a big holiday, then a busy weekend with family, traveling included. Now we're home, yet more alterations await; dear friends are coming on Sunday, staying for the week, yay! I need to prep the house, although not put up Christmas decorations, as there is no time for more than stringing lights on our front fence, so necessary as daylight has diminished sharply. There's also a quilt on the design wall that I put up yesterday and want to stitch together before our guests arrive. I wrote a chapter today, WOO HOO, so missing that element of my life. I adore sharing our home with beloveds; it's also great to return to familiar rhythms that bring me so much peace.

 

 

Then I stop myself, realizing how blessed am I to have that peace. This nation is fairly fractured, but not openly waging violent war on itself as in so many other regions on this planet. I have leisure time to engage with my favourite hobbies and the essential goods with which to do so. Maybe I'm still in the throes of Thanksgiving, feeling exceedingly grateful that my life is the way it is, even if I have a LOT on my To Do list.

 

Every year, as Advent approaches, I search for candles to replace those beyond their ability to stay lit longer than a few seconds. Maybe I need to buy some online. We're ahead of the usual Christmas shopping/card sending season, in that we took our youngest daughter's family most of their gifts this past weekend, as well as ordering holiday cards that arrived during our absence. Last year was so chaotic, I think this year I'm overcompensating, and that's FINE. Future Me appreciates the organization while Past Me is still wrapping her head around what my family endured twelve months ago. Life flows smoothly, then volcanoes erupt, lava burning all that is familiar and comfortable. One can rebuild, rearrange, reorganize, but the well-trod pathways are gone, or require ages for flowers to again blossom.

There is no To Do list that can accelerate emotional healing. Maybe all that life boils down to is how we react to joys and sorrows, trying to get the laundry done in the interim. Or maybe that's how it is as one ages. A friend my dad's age (or how old Dad would have been if he was still around) dropped by yesterday and we discussed how quickly time passes as we get older. He gave a very astute reason, the particulars which escape me now, but the essence was something like as a child our time span doesn't allow for the bigger picture, but as the window closes, we realize all we have done and still wish to accomplish, or something like that. All the lists in the world mean nothing if we forget the most important elements, that of love and kindness, mercy and forgetfulness. Not that I want to remain dependent on lists or be scatterbrained, but to move forward, injuries of the past must be set aside once they have been resolved in whatever manner permits the best healing. Last year was LAST YEAR. This year is different. Next year is.... Future Me smirks, noting I shouldn't get ahead of myself, while Past Me trembles, wondering how in the hell our family is going to deal with horrific trauma. Quietly I clear my throat, then reach for her hand, which she grasps tentatively. Next year will be better, I whisper, to which she nods. It is better, I breathe deeply. And for that I am very grateful.