Over my lifetime, I have felt much more fortunate than not. While growing up in the Midwest, I’d never doubted my parents’ loving devotion for my welfare, and by high school, I’d had sound reason to develop an in depth subconscious awareness of the importance of nurturing lasting friendships—then, just days before starting college while living at home, true love was mine to enjoy so that by graduating with honors, I’d walked down a petal strewn aisle, a blushing bride. who had made her Yiddishah grandma clap her hands with pride being that my husband, Will, was well on his way to earning his MD.
While we chose to raise our three sons in the Southwestern desert, I was happily busy, literally, from 6am til midnight, tending to a growing family’s daily needs, teaching parenting classes at the college, sitting on boards, volunteering, taking classes, writing my positive parenting column for the magazine, leading our local Brandeis(sp?) book club, polishing my trophy, won while playing doubles tennis in a community league, down hill skiing, socializing, checking homework assignments, driving three active boys, here, there, everywhere, attending their sporting events with energy to spare, shopping, cooking, doing laundry, cleaning up with Edie’s help. (Not so fortunate with sciatica and multiple surgeries).
As three rambunctious boys grew up and left for college, my need to write began to demand more and more time in direct proportion to my need to understand my highly personal contradictions in depth. And, over time, teaching morphed into soul searching via writing, full time, filling hours with insight-driven trains of intuitive thought, every day.
Over this past year in which days, weeks and months have been consumed with tumor specialists, harsh infusions, hospitalizations and surgeons, thank goodness, my most current need to heal heart and lung by way of absorbing peace and quiet within a cloistered environment has offered me time to remain in close touch with many loved ones, both near and far, by way of —writing—and thus have I welcomed time spent with uninterrupted introspection—though admittedly, my spirit fires up, spontaneously, whenever trump and his millions of mindless cronies come to mind, reminding me of hundreds of thousands of unnecessary on-going deaths while the lethal nature of Covid, unfeelingly, sees millions of wage earners continue to lose life sustaining jobs, and ...
Millions of parents feel wracked while deciding whether to send their precious, masked children to real school or continue with virtual learning at home while those of us who are seriously physically compromised, remain 100% housebound, month after month, separated from loved ones, many of whom live alone, and though I could go on and on, I’ll end by reminding my innermost sense of gratefulness to re-emerge, being that I’m alive with Will’s love at my side, and then, I’ll contemplate my good fortune to swing on my patio, surrounded by natural beauty, greenery planted and tended with care, along with vibrantly colored silk blooms as well as an early afternoon zoom with Cath’s California family, followed by a nap, after which, a late afternoon patio visit with Andi is planned, and with hopes that the sun shines brightly overhead for you, today, I’m sending lots of TLC round the globe from my little corner of the world ... ππ»♀️❤️πΊπΈ
PS
Did I mention that my right hand gal, for close to forty years, Edie, asked her daughter-in-law, Heidi, to drive her here to visit on our patio, last week? Edie is experiencing sciatica, and though she looks well, her limp and super slow gait defines the depths of her pain.
It’s cooling off—finally—temps below 100 degrees.
What’s this I spy on CNN? Fake ballot boxes situated in front of GOP offices, scattered throughout the state of California? Why am I not surprised?
Go blue!
π©π»Annie
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