719 GAINING CONTROL OVER SCIATICA ... AQUA PRO :)

Day by day, gaining control over sciatica proves a step-by-step process—slow and in need of patience ...

It's not as though I'm back to running around ... definitely not ready for full swing mobility.  Even so, this week proved a turning point in that my mind was less occupied with managing physical pain, much more ready to work at encouraging others to soothe emotional pain in hopes that logical problem solving can begin.  As timing is everything, luckily, I fielded several calls and emails requesting help.  Knowing one can be of help is good for the spirit :)

Though expressing frustration may take only a minute, an astute reply, discussed in depth, can require an hour ... Whether conversing or writing, as the case may be ... so the less the intensity of my pain, the more my minds-eye feels ready to focus on the serious work of encouraging others to discover and heal emotional wounds buried so deep within the subconscious as to emerge, feeling as raw as if those tender years of childhood were upon us, once again.

Though pain management can be an energy drainer, encouraging others to embrace courageous and thus non combative, inter connective communication techniques injects my spirit with renewed bursts of energy.  And as a good portion of this past week has seen my mind engaging with exactly that, my attitude, conscious of pain turning a corner, emanates an energetic sense of well being.  Why?  Well, it's plain to see that each time I take good care of myself and pain decreases, I feel less inclined to bench myself, more likely to run bases, again. :) I've also come to see that though I've learned to request physical help, I'm still hesitant to reveal a need for emotional support when pain is great, and perhaps that's true of many of you, as well.  Unfortunately, we are taught that exhibiting honest need for emotional support is ... weak.

Fortunately when I am down, Ellie, my right arm for many years, offers huge amounts of her time, which increases my mobility, concerning appointments.  Though Ellie's not led an easy life, her generous smile ignites so readily that I delight in her company.

Though in the past Angie had been a consistent companion when physical pain kept me housebound, in recent years her work leaves little down time; however that change offers me no problem, because I've always occupied myself with reading, writing or creating surprise gifts for several children, who, though living in a variety of states, continue to delight me as though they lived across the street and came knocking on my door eager for play dates, every few days.  Recently, a harried friend, several years younger than I am, said Annie, if you can create so many small gifts to send to a slew of kids that means you have waaay too much time on your hands.  I responded with a smile and food for thought:

Too much time?  At this stage of my life?  Not at all ... more like just the right amount of time to divide between working at what I love and entertaining myself while touching loved ones in heartfelt ways.  I mean, if I can't enjoy the best of both worlds at this stage of my life then when might anyone expect to experience a healthy sense of balance?  These are my golden years, indeed :)

Actually thinking back to those hurry-up years, when I was teaching, writing articles, sitting on boards, volunteering—all while raising a passel of 'wild and crazy', independently minded, little guys—guess what?  Neighborhood children actually rang my bell, hoping for playdates—with me :)  In fact, next week, I'm looking forward to enjoying a play date with one of my favorites, who's coming for lunch with her one year old in tow ... so if you and I were ever lucky enough to meet, it should come as no surprise if you see sunbeams of spirited high jinx shining forth from within my eyes, because my heart has never learned to cover feelings of pure delight :)

Here's another situation, which, while fueling my spirit, pushes physical pain onto a back burner inside my mind—all six of my mom's grandchildren have taken it upon themselves to plan the momentous occasion of their grandma's 100th birthday festivities.  Seriously—the fact that all six are planning this gala at a time when my energy source feels taxed injects my spirit with a healthy dose of smiles.  In addition to taking care of my sister and me, their heartfelt call to action offers my mom sound reason to feel the depths of their love.  Though leadership comes naturally to me, I'm thoroughly embracing my role of watching my sons and their cousins step up to the plate.

Long ago, I read a study, surmising that *it's not how much you love you child but how loved your child feels that matters.  This study suggests leadership's role in injecting healthy doses of love into each relationship, daily, while at the same time learning to discipline our young, effectively.  And as friends and family come together in celebration of our loved one's younger-than-springtime, hundredth year, it's heartening for our beloved centurian to breathe in and feel such an abundance of love flowing from heart to heart to heart—pulsing through her veins :)

The fact that I've resumed stretch sessions with my trainer, Mike, is another plus.  And I LOVE experiencing the water's gentle resistance each time Angi and I (in new bathing suit) spend half an hour gabbing away, uh, I mean walking, twice weekly, in her pool.  My recent purchase of bathing suit and an aqua pro, which allows me to walk, weighted, in water, adds to my growing sense of well being :)

All things considered (including the fact that I am driving short distances, again, which had proved beyond my reach for six weeks) the bigger picture painted, today, offers sound reason for my ending this post by summarizing my spirit's choice of consciously summoning naturally sunny smiles because—Life is good :)

718 TEARS GLORIOUS TEARS ... YET ANOTHER GIFT :)

Do you remember my take on a free flow of tears?  Tears, which have received a bad rep, are another gift by which Mother Nature provides a conveyance for the honest emergence of pure emotion to emanate freely from the depths of one's soul.  I’ve come to respect tears as the river that cleanses my heart of an emotional dam, so that once the rain washes another smoke screen out of my mind, my thoughts can flow so openly, honestly and clearly as to create a heartfelt reconnection that provides a deeply valued relationship with a path leading toward many mutually fulfilling tomorrows ahead.

I remember suggesting in a post, some time back, that tears are as healthy as smiles ... that at times of joy or sorrow, tears and smiles prove interchangeable.  Please note that others are not responsible when I tear up.  Pure and simple, the only person responsible for my expression of emotion is me.  Whereas others may yell, shut down, or deflect emotion by wearing an I-don’t care mask, it's my way to offer emotion free passage to by pass pretense in favor of flowing heartfelt and pure.  And thus do I conceive of tears as a river, directing me to attend to whatever I truly feel within my core.  Perhaps it's fair to say that at this point in my life, I have a dickens of a time not being true to myself, through and through.  Thus my need for a line of control, so that at those times when yet another subconscious dam begins to loosen up, raw emotion, tucked deep inside, emerges in bite sized portions rather than geysering up so unexpectedly that unsuspecting minds feel blown to kingdom come.

... I'm beginning to fathom that in the past, layers of numbness had served to protect me from confronting depths of emotion, reduced to being 'sensed'.  I remember a time when I'd sensed a waining connection from one I loved, which continued to widen, no matter how patiently I'd worked in hopes of closing that gap.  It was as if layers of numbness kept layering up in direct proportion to depths of emotion that my subconscious grappled with but my conscious mind feared to grasp.  And having written that insight as clear as day, common sense suggests that each time subconscious fear layers up, so do layers of self protection, which tend to build up in direct proportion to the depth of one’s heartfelt fear of impending loss.

Yesterday's numbness differs from today's line of control in this way:  Whereas numbness indicates emotion repressed within the subconscious and as such, unfelt, the line of control indicates emotion emerging so freely as to need conscious restraint.


 In truth, the fact that I can tear up, today, signals personal growth.  A couple of decades ago, when I'd had reason to grow so numb that tears remained unshed for years, I'd no clue of how often Mother Nature empowers our defense system to control our thoughts.  I had no clue that a think tank in need of hiding depths of emotion from conscious awareness proves very confused and conflicted, indeed.  The fact that I choose to acknowledge confusion based in fear, today, suggests that my tears are a healthy way to honestly communicate that which I feel deep inside, thus making certain that deeply valued relationships continue to function on a wave length where the truth emerges in it's most simplified form and is thus plain to see.  For the most part, if on lookers do not need to fool themselves for whatever reason, I prove an easy read.

With open, honest, healthy emotional connections in mind, let's consider this ...
Whereas 70 % of human communication is non verbal, meaning clarity depends upon facial expressions, body language and voice tones, we, who live in today’s world, depend heavily on the written word, flying far and wide through cyberspace, conveying the essence of what we feel and believe.  Upon taking that reality into consideration, the skill of two, navigating along the same, smooth wave length, indefinitely, proves challenging, at best.  As the importance of that insight soaks into my mind, it’s plain to see the inevitability of smooth sailing heading into stormy seas where boats may rock through rapids, which though seeming to appear out of no where, are actually caused by the fact that the depth of true emotion is all too often misconstrued.

Each time open communications makes it through another set of rapids, calm waters are enjoyed and fear of rocking boats, capsizing, is put to rest ... until life offers us reason to sail around the next bend where yet another unexpected test of inner strengths, such as courage, patience, endurance and fortitude, awaits ...

Riddle:
If baby boys cry as much as baby girls then why do women tear up so much more easily and frequently than men?

Answer:
Attitude is everything.
Another word for attitude is mindset.
A mindset determines that which is habitually accepted behavior
And as habits learned tend to imprint more deeply than we'd think
It's a well known fact that, good or bad ...
Your habits and mine are hard to break :)

My dad was a man's man—no question about that
Lucky for me
His blue eyes teared up with tenderness on countless occasions. 
As for attitude (mindsets) in need of change
Let's try this one on for size:
Hey!  Toughen up and stop that crying you sissy ... what are you a girl or a boy????

717 HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN??? MOTHER NATURES GIFTS OF CONFUSION/PAIN/GAIN :)

HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO ME???
Uh wait ... here are questions which prove more astute:
WHY DID THIS HAPPEN TO ME?
AND... WHAT MUST I LEARN ABOUT MYSELF THAT I'VE NOT YET THOUGHT TO QUESTION?

When reaching in to answer that last question for myself, this insight emerged:
Much of my inner conflict occurs when the insightful side of my mind, which quests for deeper truths, clashes with convention—hmmm ... 

At times, questions and comments are sent by folk who request privacy.  Upon replying personally to them, I request permission to paraphrase my response in a post down the road.  As today’s post is an example of that, here is my response to a classic situation where another picture perfect family is processing through major change, and while processing through change much comes undone before restructuring is complete. (Perhaps if we knew that restructuring is classic to change, the power of knowledge might shorten time spent in anguish over how the unimaginable could happen to those who prove as responsible, compassionate and charismatic as ... you and me :)

At some point in the life of every child, it is classic to have reason to feel left out of some group important to the spirit's sense of well being.  When this 'left out' feeling repeats too often, a child on the outside looking in may compensate by developing a subconscious sensitivity to taking care not to do that to others.  When insight into this reaction combines with insight into our herding instinct, we can see why emotional complexity plays a hefty part in the development of each psyche's set of internal rules.

The more painful the childhood, the more mental unrest during conflict, the greater the internal struggle, the more frustrating it is for loved ones, who attempt to help this individual's 'wounded child' wrestle with a wide variety of adult roles, today—often to the point of exhaustion.  I've long said that in the aftermath of a painful childhood, common sense suggests that we reflect over what went amiss in hopes of mindfully re-raising ourselves.

In my experience, families come undone when a major life-changing event causes the proverbial rug to be pulled aside, exposing dirty laundry hidden from the public eye so that the underbelly of family interaction can no longer be denied.  On the other hand, once dirty laundry is hanging on the line in plain sight, an anguished child's adult psyche may find itself ready to identify issues, which had felt too confounding and overwhelming to clarify at earlier stages of life.

The first time epiphany attempted to emerge from deep within me, I was in my late forties, feeling horrified to see my ‘picture perfect’ marriage unraveling more quickly than I could stop pain from bleeding through a series of desperate attempts on my part to erect smoke screens.  The second time epiphany insisted on emerging from my depths occurred when my strong willed mind wore out, and my spirit exhausted from the futility of working to save family relationships from riding through emotional rapids in the aftermath of Dad's death.

In the latter case, emotional exhaustion resulted when compassion—no, make that empathy—for loved ones ran so deep that my mind churned in time with theirs.  Though this signaled my heart's ability to love deeply, I had sound reason to quest toward clarity when dilemmas, which remained unresolved proved enmeshed with the problems of loved ones, masking my need to  address issues of my own.

In case you're beginning to wonder if your 'picture perfect' family may take its turn wandering into a maze where it seems as though those you love most are walking through Hell, you might want to consider this next train of thought more deeply than ever before:  My main reason for writing this blog is to remind myself while encouraging others to focus our minds toward carving a path that expands to include insight into that which your spirit and mine may need to thrive.  You see, when we fool ourselves by ignoring our needs, thriving transforms to surviving in the same way that we say—how ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm after they've seen Paris ...

On another note, as little peeps watch adult role models working their way toward simplifying that which, at first glance, appears too complex to comprehend, monkey-see-monkey-do may begin to absorb many of the same inner strengths that they observe developing within a deep thinking role model like you.

So, though carving a path toward self discovery may prove exhausting, now and then, those of us who choose the road less taken may rejoice over this fact: Though most people feel mired deep within life's hazy mist of a maze at some time or another, those with strong team mates, who manage to hold fast to positive focus also manage to take one leap of faith after another until we come to see that wherever we're heading is actually—ALL good, as long as we don’t lose sight of the well being of everyone concerned :)

If at present you feel exhausted and/or in pain and if you're having a hard time understanding why I say pain is good then please indulge this reiteration—no pain, no gain.  You see, just as with confusion, pain is also Mother Nature's gift, suggesting that the narrow scope of your attitude may be in need of change.

In order to redirect change from a negative bent toward a positive outlook, it’s wise to work at developing our sixth sense in hopes that creative thinking may ignite insight, which recognizes positive change taking place before conventional minds begin to identify the fact that during the process of change, tons of conflict resolution may require two think tanks to work overtime.

Bottom line, if your spirit feels optimistic while your attitude is adjusting to accepting the fact that an active mind like yours has need to experiment with life in order for your spirit to thrive and if you can muster the courage to consciously walk ever so cautiously more deeply into a mind maze of your own making then what I ask, could feel better than knowing that you, like the ant moving the rubber tree plant, are inching forward—day by day, little by little—toward achieving a long range goal, which may prove far more enriching than giving up on whatever it is that makes your spirit feel fully alive!!! :) :)

And that, my friends, may be the most insightful, run-on sentence I've ever penned! :)

716 PITA :)

At times when pain is high and awareness suggests that ministering to my needs for several weeks may cause a loved one to feel weary, it's my way to approach that subject with humor.  For instance, I recently had reason to offer up this suggestion:  If you need a break, please feel free to drop this pita at a warm and cheery no kill shelter ... for a spell ... Then as we laugh at the truth, the fact that we've tapped into a touchy subject instead of pretending that this wearied attitude does not exist allows us to entertain a moment of lightness, which clears any natural sense of heaviness from the air.

Each time a spurt of positive energy catalyzes spirited feelings of loving connectedness, two are reminded that one person's needs must not supersede the needs of another, over long.  As humor injects hopeful thoughts concerning better days ahead into two minds, our emotional compasses reset toward easing our way toward tomorrow by enjoying each other's company, today :)

As time goes on I'll bet you can see why penning posts, concerning positive focus, holds deep meaning for me  :)

Riddle:
What do the letters in PITA stand for?
Pain In The AS _  :)

715 WHEN I MISS MY DAD ...

Another close friend has lost a beloved parent, which makes me want to publish a post presented some time ago, so, here it is ...

 Each time I learn that the parent of a dear friend has passed, I wonder what may be said in comfort when loss is as profound as that.  Today, this is what comes to mind ...

Once a life has been spent, our parents' spirits live in our hearts as my father's, now, lives withn mine.  While growing up,  I always felt safe, looking up at this godlike figure, with my small hand held lovingly in Dad's.  When perplexed by questions, concerning love or life ... or death ... Dad offered answers, which made sense, thus easing a small child's confusion

During his last years, Dad loved climbing the mountain behind our house; he loved grapefruit and the brilliant blue of the desert sky.  Today, when aching with missing my dear friend, I spend time with my beloved father in this way ...

While swaying back and forth, cradled on our patio swing, my gaze sweeps over to the grapefruit tree planted in his honor and up toward the mountain that Dad loved to climb with five strapping grandsons in tow.  Each time I breathe in the tree and the expanse of the bright blue sky, I see my father's smile, beaming down from the peak of our mountain, just as his smile beamed every time he walked toward me, eager to wrap his 'child' warmly within his embrace.  As this vision eases my longing for my irreplaceable friend, longing subsides and inner peace is mine.  As I've comforted myself countless times, this makes me ask ...

What did your parents love?  Did they share my dad's love of landscape and nature?  Is there a specific tree that you can plant and nurture as your parents' love nurtured you to grow into the warm and courageous souls I am happy to call friend?  If you look up at the sky, perhaps your parents' smiles will beam down upon you just as my Dad smiles at me, every day ... 

Every spring, the sight of small, green grapefruit, the size of peas on 'Dad's tree', inspires my spirit to smile with thoughts of the countless ways my father drank in the fruits of life.

Whereas many lose parents too young, I had the good fortune to nurture my dad's spirit as he'd aged just as he'd nurtured mine during my youth.  If there's one thing I've absorbed, concerning profound, irretrievable loss, it is this ... we who have been raised by parents, who nurtured family and dear friends, naturally, are on the receiving end of the best that life has to offer ... And having absorbed the loves nutrients, it's been my good fortune to offer up insights into love and life that may, hopefully, nourish hearts and spirits, reached by the posts that the communication instructor within me chooses to write, one following another, day by day.

And as with every day, I hope you can feel my friendship hugging you close wherever you may reside throughout this wide and wondrous planet, which we've named Earth.  :) Annie

714 THROW MAMA FROM THE TRAIN :)

Paraphrasing reknown psychologist, Alfred Adler:

If we have nothing to compensate for we have no way of reaching the greatness within us.  The brokenness allows one to achieve spectacular performance.

Annie's take:
Whereas ordinary experiences create an ordinary life, hardship may inspire a connection to arise between extra-sensory perception (insightfulness) and the development of extraordinary (extra/ordinary) strengths.  Perhaps this sixth sense is less apt to develop when a fearful mind clings to the safety net of a conventional life.  Give me reason to experiment with pushing past the narrow limits of my comfort zone or condemn my existential beliefs to death ... so to speak :)

Think of comedic giants, pushing past yesterday's pain ... Giants such as ... Lucille Ball, Carol Burnett, Jonathan Winters, Woody Allen, Robin Williams ... what doth thee know of broken childhoods leading toward comedic genius?  

When asked why so few break free of ghetto life, where downtrodden souls barely survive, here is my stock reply:  All a Phoenix needs to rise from the ashes is one strong, supportive hand that reaches down and never lets go ... Interestingly ... most often that hand is attached to the arm of an innocent child's beloved, stout-hearted grandma.

During the years of my secreted-tumultuous childhood, the supportive hand, holding fast to mine, had been Dad's.  Though Mom and I loved each other deeply, Dad's strength of spirit ignited my own.

Historically, my strong spirited smile has far outshone subconscious angst carried forth as baggage hidden from plain sight deep within my mind.  When asked how I know today's smile proves true rather than hinting at denial, here is my reply:

No matter how often sciatica flares ... no matter how many family festivities are missed or spent on couch or chair, here's why my smile refuses to turn upside down, over long—all in all, I consider myself a lucky duck! And that's most especially true when the subject concerns giving and receiving love—and thank goodness I've chosen to make that attitude my own for this reason:  If my face frowned, too often, then helping me through painful weeks might become a royal pain for loved ones who choose to pitch in while I'm down.

In hopes of not taking my limitations too seriously when chronic pain has reason to heighten, I'm the first to call myself PITA, thus opening the door to good-natured loved ones, who make good use of that nickname, as well.  You see, as long as my strength of spirit faces up to the truth of pita-hood with self respect intact, I can consciously stop a frown from shading the sun by choosing an attitude that shines up my smile ... And so far, this plan of pushing past certain limits while accepting limitations that prove beyond my control must be working well, because, so far, no one's threatened to throw mama from the train :)

713 MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND :)

Our holiday weekend was wonderful in every way.  And as sciatica flared, now it's good to be home. 

On Friday, our son, Barry, who met us at the airport close to dinnertime, whisked us to Chucky Cheese, where his lovely, raven haired girlfriend, Marie, and her adorable sons, three year old Tony and 20 months old Ray, were intent upon racking up points toward prizes, playing video games, which stood side by side by side in rows that seemed to cover a city block.  Upon walking over the threshold into that brightly lit emporium, this older adult felt like I'd landed in Vegas-on-steroids-for-kids. 

This was my second time at CC, the first occurring when our son, David, was about eight.  I must say that over this past quarter century, the noise has quadrupled or my hearing has magnified :)  Anyway, time spent enjoying Barry, Marie and her precious little guys far outweighed any onslaught to my senses, and over the next hour or so, a good time was had by all.

As Marie was baby sitting for close friend, Louise's eight year old son, Lee and six year old daughter, Rose, our group numbered eight.  Once the adults had their fill of this high energy experience, which never fails to delight the young, we returned to Marie's new place, a small, snug, two bedroom house with a huge yard, offering little ones a secluded park-like setting in which to play.  Their new home is on a charming street to which Marie and the boys had moved the previous week while Barry had been traveling throughout South Africa after 'best-manning' at the wedding of a close friend in Cape Town. 

Happily, this cheery house provides Marie and her precious peeps a cozy retreat from the world at large, and the spacious park-like setting in the back offers two active, little guys with energy to spare plenty of space to run around from daybreak till dusk when bath and bedtime draw near.  Upon returning to their new home, Tony, Ray along with Rose and Lee were sweet and funny ... and though thoroughly exhausted, no melt downs occurred while roughing housing with the men.  And as laugh followed laugh, pretty much non stop, a good time was had by all, again :) 

Later, while driving from Marie's to Barry's house where we stayed over the weekend, laughter bubbled up while recapping the children's antics as well as their squealing delight in response to trying, unsuccessfully, to escape The Tickle Paw, which everyone knows mere mortals cannot control.  Then, while unpacking in eldest son Barry's guest room, our youngest son, David, a screen writer, rang the front bell after having driven down from L.A. to join in the fun. 

Needless to say, welcoming David widened my smile, because he's smack in the middle of penning a script for an upcoming episode of a hit tv show, and we've come to know that during this creative process a writer's mind offers little downtime.  So the fact that David had reached a point in writing this script where his mind felt free to join in the festivities set my spirit dancing :) 

While listening to David hint at new story lines spicing up this season's episodes, which begin to air in two weeks, it was obvious that his spirit was thriving, as well.  When asked to offer specifics, my youngest son grinned like the cheshire cat while responding—you'll have to wait and tune in, week after week.  His reply, which came as no surprise, made me laugh for this reason:  Though my curiosity always peaks, causing me to beg for inside info right before the start of each new season, David's stock reply remains unchanging.  So while falling to sleep that night, my spirit continued to sparkle, because coveted time spent with each of our sons enriches my heart :) 

As for second born, Steven, he and his wife, Rachel, had chosen to enjoy the weekend relaxing at our cabin, a mountain retreat ... though I'm not sure how relaxed this holiday proved to be, because we kept receiving calls concerning exterminators and electricians.  As our 'kids' dealt cheerfully, thus admirably, with disposing of carpenter ants and electrical problems—both of which attach to the enjoyment of owning a get-away home—my heart felt light and mind carefree :)  

Anyway back on the coast, Saturday morning saw the rest of our gang, as well as Marie's high school friend, Louise and her kids, Lee and Rose, out to brunch.  As the coast offers many charming breakfast nooks, we congregated in one before embarking upon a two hour boat ride on the placid bay in a covered Duffy, which, resembling a mini house boat, may be likened to drifting peacefully on a well padded couch in an open aired living room while cruising past one luxurious mansion after another, each with its own yacht, moored at the shoreline ... while munching on veggies, dip, cold meats, cheese, water, wine and beer ... because Barry—whose patient, playful eye carefully maneuvered around other boats and wind surfers with each of the kids on his lap taking turns steering our craft—knew, along with Marie, that the best way to keep loved ones—including a favorite gimp, whose sciatica tends to flare—entertained, was by providing munchies ... so as you shall see, we grazed, all day :)

By 1pm, leg over ready to elevate on pillows on Marie's spacious, L-shaped couch, which, thankfully, offered plenty of seating for others, as well.  So after docking the Duffy, a BBQ followed at her house ... kids in yard, tumbling all over each other.  And throughout the weekend, we enjoyed food, glorious food and weather blessed by the gods.

As Louise, newly divorced, had just moved out of her house, she and her small peeps stayed overnight at Marie's throughout the weekend.  Watching Marie, a single mom who works full time, take her friend's family under her wing without losing her heartfelt stride, made my heart surge with warmth.  And from my perch on the couch, I reminisced back to those times when my mother-in-law had come to stay with us for a week to ten days.  After several non-stop days, she'd say, Annie ... please sit down!  Watching you spin from here to there like a top, non stop, is exhausting me to the point of dizziness.  Once she'd asked, are your washing machine and dishwasher broken?  No I replied, what made you ask that?  I don't hear them running, and they're always running!  Then, we laughed at the truth :)

Sunday offered the delights of back yard BBQ number two, where we enjoyed meeting Marie's extended family.  She and Barry invited several of her friends and his as well as our niece, her husband and their three sons, who remind me of younger versions of ours.  As over twenty adults joined in the fun with kids in tow, the yard swelled with folks of every age, switching tables in hopes of making friends of strangers, offering yet another good time to one and all. 

Barry had purchased two large kiddy pirate ship pools, each equipped with cannons, which, when attached to a hose, sprayed water at the 'crew' on the other ship, as well as a slip-n-slide, so the kids were happily engaged for hours.  And having hungered for grandkids, this couch potato's senses were delighted each time I ventured off off the sofa and sat on a chair, set out of the sun in the shade for a spell.  I mean, sciatic nerve having had the nerve to act up was not about to stop me from enjoying the company of so many people I love as well as those I'd yet to meet :)

Monday offered a day of rest—not by choice—by way of gastrointestinal unrest, and thus did balance in all things come into play :)  So Memorial Day found the couch potato ensconced on the guest bed at Barry's ... not a bad thing considering the previous three days, and perhaps that complete day of rest is why pain did not elevate to the point of setting my longing for independence even further back.  The fact that I've been unable to drive for the past month makes me focus on elevating leg in hopes of flying to the midwest to enjoy time with my mom in June.  As you can imagine, looking ahead at what's coming up helps to minimize any angst, concerning whatever I can't do, right now.

Memorial Day evening saw Carrie, one of my two 'daughters' by mutual 'adoption' ringing Barry's front door bell.  She and I have engaged in a mutual admiration society since Barry brought her home  at fifteen when they were classmates in high school.  I remember Carrie's expressions of delight when she and Barry, both student body officers, were leading a student council meeting in May of their senior year, and while taking her place at the table, Carrie was surprised to see a giant chocolate chip cookie that said—Carrie, will you go to the prom with me? Barry. 

While reflecting back and finding reason to laugh again, I said to Barry—I always relaxed when you went out with Carrie ... she was so responsible.  At that, Barry replied with a chuckle—Mom, of all my friends, Carrie looked more mature and had the best fake i.d.  Oy!  Just goes to show how little we know about what's really taking place right under our noses :) 

Having married and moved to the coast about a dozen years ago, Carrie, also a single mom of two precious boys, had spent the weekend packing to move in with her fiancé, who had been her college love.  So happily, talk of rekindled love filtered into a weekend already bursting with happy thoughts of each one's future unfolding in ways that offer every spirit reasons to thrive.  As awareness suggests that life does not often paint a picture of bliss, appreciation for these particular moments continued to deepen. 

Carrie and I enjoyed private girl time on the bed, where her questions asked for insight concerning melding her two boys and her fiancé's two girls into blended family life.  It should come as no surprise that our conversation highlighted the significant roles played by patience and positive attitude while six stouthearted sailors sail a shipshape craft into this real life adventure—sure to offer surprises around every bend.

While Carrie and I were enjoying each other, Barry recovered from his gastric upset enough to run over to Marie's, and my heart overflowed with love when the two of them, each carrying a small smiling boy, surprised us by returning with ice cream, so that Marie and her munchkins could hug us good bye, right before Tony's and Ray's bedtime.  In short order the ice cream was gone, and it was time to hug and kiss Marie and two little guys, who'd begun to yawn while rubbing their big, brown eyes—so long till next time—which we hope will be soon :)

So, having read this post, describing moments, which grew, hour by hour, day by day, into a weekend in which many hearts and spirits felt well nourished, it's plain to see why this Memorial Day weekend proved memorable in countless ways :)

Then, while awaiting our plane on Tuesday, came the cherry atop the sundae when this text came from best-girl bud, Angie—Hey Annie ... missing you ... girl's night out, Wed.?—offering my spirit's smile reason to look forward to enjoyment, again.  Guess the trick to getting the most out of life, painful limitations withstanding, is to figure out how best to feel relaxed with limitations, beyond control, while fully appreciating the people we love and enjoy.

 Upon embracing this attitude of pain as part of life, you can see why I see   myself as a lucky duck, because, all told, life is good—wait—make that great :)