June 23, 2017
Italian food
Pizza, pasta, tasty breads
It is exquisite.
~ Victor Allen
Daily goals report:
·
Weigh in – didn’t. Still.
·
Meditate – hard to meditate in Victor’s room . .
. unless you count gazing at his toys, his belongings, reminders of his eleven
years of accumulation of his presence and being on this planet what it is . . .
a grandmother’s meditation in love.
·
Walk – Did my PT exercises for my knee, and
seven hours driving.
·
Eat – started with pancakes.
Other goals
report:
·
A little voice filled with melodies and laughter
from Mica – aka: Mean Cat – in the Aristocats
is more music than any person may be entitled to in a day.
·
Ordered a picture frame for the painting I gave Doc
·
Guest Haiku poet today – Victor Allen.
·
Writing, this.
·
Happy Birthday to Sarah Garst, former
veterinarian for the beloved Allen dogs, Copper and Moe. You charged us a paw and a tail for your
services, but we did learn that cool trick to spot fleas. Many happy returns of the day.
Today was the
quintessential grandma type day – breakfast was chocolate chips pancakes (and
coffee for adults) followed by attending the theatre where seven year old Mica
played “Mean Cat” in The Aristocats
production put on by her summer theatre camp.
Who is Mean
Cat? You don’t remember her in the original Disney movie? Well – Mean Cat is a compilation of four cat
characters from the movie, combined into one character because there were not
enough actors to fill all the alley cat roles.
And as Mica, namer of this combined character would know, if you represent
four personas (catsonas?) you’re going to carry at little of the meanness of
each of those cats.
Today was also
a quintessential mom day - baking pizza with Victor, grocery shopping with Mica
– things I did every day with my own kiddos a couple decades ago. I wish I would have been
aware at an earlier age, at a mom of young children age, that life is a journey
that every person travels. We all have
the same final destination – the final ending point. Instead of remembering this shared
conclusions, I used to hold the illusion that somehow the goals I set, large
and small, were ends: when the kids are all in school . . . when we pay off
this debt . . . when we get the house we . . . when I get the job . . . when the
kids are all adults . . . when I don’t have to . . . .
Age brings
clarity and satisfaction for me. I know
that when one milestone are not ends.
When one milestone is passed, another will be visible on the horizon to
replace it. I accept the reality of the
present moment, maneuvering through it as peacefully and joyfully as
possible. I hold no more illusions that
those shapes and shadows on the horizon are anything that I own or control.
My prayers, if I were to pray, would be to ask
for more days of connectedness to those who give meaning to my life, more days with
glimpses of untroubled memories, more days of luscious participation. More days.
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