Monday: seeing blessings by looking for them

I feel, I hope, that I am, now that I am nearly 7 years married,

soon to be here as long as I was in my 7 years in Ottawa,

slowly finding my footing.

As days become weeks, weeks become months and months become years,

layer after layer of weeks, piling on into years upon years... 

I am over halfway through my 42nd year of life,

and I am, as I wrote earlier, more aware of the fragility of life,

of the flower petal that fades, becoming translucent before it crumples... 

A dear woman, L., who is now old and who remembers running up steps like

it was nothing and now steps are difficult, a labour to go up, if up at all...

she told me how she has lost muscle mass and if she fell, 

she does not have the strength to get off the floor.

Once she was young, had so many friends, went to NYC on weekends,

had dinner parties with pot roasts and people milling about.

Now, this.  She has had to, alone, put her affairs in order, after seeing how hard it was

when her Mother died, almost 5 years ago; and she has no one after her,

to tidy her affairs after death.  And so she is and goes and she sends me a card

when I am sick, and I know that this takes great effort to do now,

compared to years ago, when stairs, rain and walking were not an event to be feared.

So I feel like I go through my days, aware of L, and of P, our Candle Desk Man, 

who is now in a wheelchair in a nursing home, stooped over, after a fall,

after struggling valiantly these last years to hold on to his independence,

now, this.  I know that I too, am going towards this, and beyond.

While it is funny, it's also practical, I have 2 weights, 5 lbs each, that I try to use

each day, to try to gain strength. I am more diligent, over all, in walking,

in swimming in summer.

I feel like I am swimming against a very high and heavy tide,

one where your years slip by like sand through your fingers

and you can't stop that tide. 

That tide rides like time, throughout everything 

and one's youth that felt like one had it forever, is taken, suddenly

and there is nothing to do but to ride that tide... 

***

My Oma said so many times 

take it as it comes and I see more and more the wisdom in it.

***

I know that 42 is still on the side of youth, the young side of possible

middle age, and that it is a time that is golden still, though it is a different 

shade of gold, as if one's early 20s were like a blond gold, like a new tree

with a light green and pale spun gold sunshine

and one's thirties silently turn that gold orange and by one's 40s it is a gold

that is a deep colour of beeswax, nearly mature in colour... 

***

I know I am so blessed, I have my parents still, and my one Grandma,

who I talked to today and again forgot to ask how she met Grandpa;

I am pretty sure it was at church, but I want to hear the story, again... 

***

I briefly saw a friend today whose Mother is in hospital; 

it is so difficult to be at that stage, when one's dearest ones

are older and struggling.

***

While I live in a greater awareness of the fragility of life and now

my years slip by as silently as a canoe on quiet water,

I am aware of the beauty of today.

That today I listened to more of the Silmarillion by Tolkien

for the first time. 

Today I put away clean beautiful dishes that gladden my Husband's heart.

Today I swam 8 laps in sunshine and with a whole large lane to myself.

Today I enjoyed a most delicious biscuit with blackberry jam

and a hot cup of tea.

Today I baked already boiled potatoes, adding a very small bit of olive oil

in the middle of them baking, and they were perfect,

crisp, browned, slightly blistering, soft, hot and tender inside.

Today I ate dinner with my Husband while we listened to quiet

Tolkien music and ate by waning sunlight and candlelight,

mixed together on a beautiful August evening.

Tonight I read another letter to my Husband by Tolkien and again

we laughed at Tolkien's deprecating humour... 

***

I gave Cleo her medicine again today, and laughed at her

in the washing machine, taking pictures before finally gently pulling her out.

She is really aging. When I pick her up, I feel her spine.

She is losing muscle.  Her liver has caused jaundice. 

I am more careful and gentle with her.

I don't know how long I will have her with us

and I don't look forward to the loss of her presence, but I know it is coming.

***

My Grandma told me of a woman who came down to Monday coffee hour,

my Grandma brought banana bars with cream cheese frosting,

and the woman now has a walker and her dog, 16 years old I think, just died.

But it was getting harder to care for her dog, now that the woman needs

a walker to walk and so time is going and my Grandma was pleased that

the woman took some bars back to her apartment to enjoy...

***

My Grandma teaches me how to adapt to the changes in life.

She could not lift the glass bowl that she used for mixing when baking

so she switched to plastic since it is lighter and she can lift that,

for example... she does not let things stop her, she just figures out

how to do things differently. 

***

I have so much I wish to do yet,

books I want to read, essays I want to write, things I want to sew,

many things I want to, cook and  bake and write about. 

Many things I want to do...as time slips by so quickly...

***

Today I told my Mom about Marion Cunningham's Rescue Biscuits and 

that I wish I knew more about food chemistry and why

the cup of milk and the shortening made the biscuits so soft,

so surprisingly light and tender, 

so good with blackberry jam spread generously on top...

Today, I am already dreaming of another biscuit and jam tomorrow,

with hot cups of tea....

***

Today, I pray that whatever is joyful, whatever is painful,

whatever may stop you short in surprise, or whatever is so hard

that you are staggering under it's weight,

today, I pray for God's mercy for you,

for His protection, for His saving hand to be upon you.... 

and knowledge of His love, and His Angel's Wings

surrounding you; 

Today I pray that you know:

you are not alone.