Today was our last day of quarantine. It’s back to work tomorrow! Three of us have been together in this house for three weeks. All of us sick, but all of us together. And quite often, we were sitting in front of a warm fireplace.
As I sat down to write, I couldn’t seem to find the right words. So, I decided to read this precious book my daughter gave me for my birthday. I had read some of it before, but this time I read cover to cover. And there was only one word that would do.
Discovered a New word today Whose quirky Appearance Caught My eye Attempting Pronunciation Brought a chuckle I read it fast Inglenook…inglenook I repeated it slowly- In-gle-nook As quickly as Articulation Made me laugh Meaning Made me smile- Picture a bench Nestled by a cozy fire Imagine yourself Sitting there But not alone A beautiful space Happily shared Your very own Inglenook- I like the way that sounds!
Didn’t take long A few minutes Maybe five My face turned Toward the sun Soaking up its Light and warmth Shifting my Response To this day Cold air was Not a deterrent Favorite blue sweater And soft grey slippers Made certain of that Back inside Warm and cozy Still wearing my Favorite blue sweater I continue to feel The sun on my face Though no longer Standing in the Path of its rays- Didn’t take long A few minutes Maybe five
I guess it’s my word of the day. I can’t seem to get it out of my head. The thought of it first came with my morning coffee…
I love coffee in all forms. My day usually starts with a simple cup of hot, black coffee. Yes, there are hints of bitterness, but a taste for them has developed over time.
Thanks to COVID-19, my taste and smell are almost zero. It is a strange sensation, obviously making it impossible to enjoy any food or drink.
In my current state, bitterness was the only taste in my morning coffee. No hints of anything else. Kind of like drinking hot water with an aftertaste of cough syrup.
Yesterday, I noticed a slight recognition of sweet. It was subdued but present. That gave me an idea. Coffee creamer to the rescue? It was worth a shot!
I filled the bottom of my cup with vanilla creamer. And then poured in the hot, steaming coffee. The result? Bittersweet. And that is not a bad thing. Today, it counts as an improvement!
FYI-It has been a tough week. No need for a symptom list. I’ll just say I am beginning to feel better. This virus is no joke, and it is so important to remain vigilant. Protect yourself and the ones you love by wearing a mask and taking precautions. ❤
The mountain comes into view, As I drive across the river bridge. A drive I’d love to take today. To me, a majestic outline, though Small in comparison to other mountains Barely high enough to garner the name
Hiking to its peak as a child was Like standing on top of the world Peering out over tops of trees Roads, cars, and houses below Appearing as toys in a tiny Land of make-believe
Was home really as small as it appeared?
Time for exploring always Ended too quickly-never enough Time to stand on the edge. But laughter followed as we Made our way down the steep trail Into the green valley below
The world again at eye-level My head forever in the clouds
Time is a funny thing. Looking at the clock, I see the seconds ticking away. Always the same, steady beat.
And yet, I foolishly think I have some control over its passing. Certain moments I try my hardest to slow down as if they will last longer. Others I try to push ahead, wanting them to be over already.
Here’s to taking each moment as it comes-all steady, sixty-seconds of it.
What if I lie Perfectly still In the dark Breaths shallow Muscles relaxed Surely time will Stop for a moment Allowing me a Space to hold One single note Ringing in the air A reminder of Joy that sings Even when Days are hard A simple request One moment Frozen in time Melting away only As your hand reaches Through the darkness To take hold of mine
Looking for the Fast-forward button Feeling like life Is busy taking Seldom giving Desire to connect Difficult to maintain When physical touch Is discouraged- But time passes No faster than On the days We can walk Hand in hand Arm in arm Whispering in One another’s ears No-there is no Fast-forward button To be found So, I wait Ready for Winter to pass Flowers to bloom Friends to embrace
Traditions washed away Left with a choice- Create new ones Or spend hours Grieving the old Left with a choice- Sprinkle drops of Sadness on those I love or shower Them with love That transcends Traditions Left with a choice- Allow the temporary To weigh down or Be lifted up by Treasures of The heart Mingling joy With sadness While celebrating The mysteries of Faith, hope, love Family, friendship- Understanding Today’s choices Will become Tomorrow’s Memories
I snapped this picture on a recent weekend getaway with my husband, Gart. The lodge we visited was built on the edge of a cliff. Views of the valley below were breathtaking. Birds flew all around. It was a perfect spot for some quiet relaxation.
But that sign…I chuckled the first time I walked past. I even witnessed several people coming and going safely from the entrance to the trail. Still, I was hesitant.
After breakfast on our first morning, we ventured toward that sign. We walked the short distance down to the edge of the cliff. It was a narrow trail, but not scary, except for that “edge of the cliff” thing.
When we reached our stopping point, there were several big rocks- perfect places to sit and rest. Some seats were closer to the edge than others. No surprise, I chose the first available seat. Gart, however, picked one just a few steps further.
The logical part of my brain knew he was in no real danger. But the anxiety, afraid of heights part of me-well, it struggled. We were both seated, taking pictures, enjoying the scenery. Both perfectly safe. Yet, my imagination had him slipping and falling off the edge.
Later in the day, I thought about that hike and the warning sign. Life kind of feels that way right now. Like there is a danger sign around every corner. It is easy to become fearful and anxious.
At this moment, I am safe and healthy. My family is safe and healthy. But the news reports daily virus increases. There are increased warnings about travel, the importance of masks, and social distancing. Not to mention the impossible questions concerning a return to school.
Like the edge of that cliff, the potential for danger is real. And just like the warning sign at the trailhead, there are potentially life-saving signs offering help through the pandemic. But only if I read and follow the signs.
We are currently in a state of constant, overwhelming information. And though I try to limit my intake, anxiety has a way of creeping in. It is easy to lose sight of what truly matters.
These two poems provide a glimpse into how quickly my state of mind changes. Some days are a constant battle between worry and trust-anxious and calm. Can you say rollercoaster? 😉
Maybe you can relate. ❤
The pressure Begins to build In the center Of the chest Pushing past The heart Welling up In the throat Seeking an Escape route- Tears falling From my eyes- No consequence Weight remains Reason requires Assistance A temporary Reprieve Help from the Unexpected A song playing On the radio Laughing, I Shake my head Momentary release From the gravity
Not considering Personal gain Instead, seeing Another in the Light of grace The same grace Through which Each one of Us desires To be seen Grace that places Selfish interest Out of sight Out of mind Where it belongs Two people Face to face One saying I see you I hear you And I want To know you Not a request An offering Of friendship
I left home at the mature age of seventeen and, except for one summer, never came back. My mom often reminds me. 😉
Before college, I had lived in the same house my entire life. I attended the same school, first grade through senior year, and was surrounded by extended family.
And even though I needed to find my own path, the place where I grew up would always be home.
A recent visit with my parents caused me to think about the word home. Especially the idea that home has little to do with the actual place.
As I pulled up in the driveway, my dad was waiting under the carport. Mom came right out as if she’d been listening inside for my car. Soon, we were talking about everything from the kids to work, politics, church. And, of course, the pandemic and quarantine.
As an adult, I enjoy this time alone with my parents. Being there by myself means my only role at that moment is a daughter. Even if this visit brought some adult daughter anxiety.
Due to the current pandemic, I had to be very careful about where I stopped on the four-and-a-half-hour drive from our house to theirs. My parents are over seventy, Mom a breast cancer survivor and Dad with diabetes and kidney disease. Their health is currently good, and I couldn’t bear the thought of exposing them to this virus.
My anxiety quickly faded as Dad asked, “How’s my little girl?” Mom said more than once, “I’m so glad you came.” At face value, simple phrases. Yet, they wrapped me in the love and security I experienced growing up.
When going to visit my parents, I say I am going home. And when it’s time to leave, I use the same phrase. I guess both are true. Home is about the people not the places.
I may have to leave tiny pieces of my heart behind when leaving one, but I know they will be refilled upon arrival at the other. Not the same, but new, and whole.
A sweet paradox, traveling from one home to another. ❤
Green Green Grass of Home by Claude “Curly” Putman, Jr.
Question of the week-
Which is harder
Only seeing faces
On a screen
Or seeing faces
From a distance?
The computer screen
Filled with little faces
Smiling, waving, singing
No group hugs
Yet, welcome connection
The short visits
No pats on the shoulder
Yet, beautiful smiles
Bring a rush
Tears, happy and sad
Despite attempts to
Swallow the lumps
In my throat
Maybe it’s not
A question of difficulty
Instead, a reminder
Of how desperately
We need each other
Up On the Roof by Carole King/Gerry Goffin"And if this world starts getting you down
There’s room enough for two…"