It was 4:30 in the morning. Something woke me from a deep sleep, though I don’t know what it was. I turned over and attempted to just go back to sleep, when a thought grew louder and louder and just kept growing in my mind. It was as though this thought was writing itself for this morning’s love letter. It was this:

We wake each day and put life on automatic pilot. We have our routines each morning and the day decides what kind of day it will be. We allow circumstances and events play out and dictate how we live our lives. And at the end of the day, we slide into home, our pockets full of the residuals of the day. At the end of the week we go, gratefully, into the weekend. And this continues until???  This is what begs the question that woke me from my sleep.  How are our lives measured?  Seconds turn to minutes, into hours and into days. Days turn to years and to seasons of our lives.

Do we measure our lives at the end?  Do we think that what we’re doing is just good enough? If we haven’t stated our goals, how will we know that we’ve reached them? How will we exceed our wildest dreams, if we haven’t actively dreamed them?

Looking life in the face I ask of it, is there more for me?  Am I swimming with the current? Is there joy? Am I happy? Am I loving?  Am I “home”?

This is not a dress rehearsal for the rest of my life. This is the only December 11, 2020 that I will ever dance on this earth to enjoy. Am I really living in this day?  Am I invested in this day? What excites me???

I know that we are all so busy with life. I look at the clock and see the seconds ticking by, but I hadn’t treasured them. I looked at the clock as a countdown to the end of the day.  In my mind, I’m hurrying it along so I can be done! Early this morning, from somewhere, the message was clear and concise. Take notice of the seconds that are passing. Don’t urge them to pass into hours and days, as those things are happening without our encouragement. This time that we have today is precious and it is holy. We can use it or misuse it, but one thing is certain. We won’t get it back. We have to make it count. You can’t un-throw a rock, or un-say something unkind or untrue. We can make conscious choices and celebrate those choices at the end of our lives.

It takes a precious second for a baby to take its first breath or for someone that we love to take their last. It takes one precious second to give someone a smile, especially when they don’t have one of their own. Only one second to open a door, to close a window when it’s just too cold. It takes a second to pet a dog, to make a decision to try harder or to call an Uber. It takes one second to wish a stranger a Merry Christmas . It takes but a second to say, “I love you.” These small ripples of love will change the world.

 I’m, consciously, going to be kinder, I’ll try harder to help. I want those that I love to feel that from me. I expect my dreams to come true each and every day, and they do. I will try harder to notice the seconds that tick by and to fill them with something that I can be proud of.   At the end of the day, what have I done that can be more important than that?

I guess the bottom line to all of this is that each and every day, we can and must decide what kind of day we are going to have. We can live our best lives. We will all find joy when and where we search for it. I expect abundance and joy and I’m rarely disappointed.  I wish the same for all of you.

“Get UP, Mommy!!!! Santa was here!!!! Come on, Mommy!!! Get UP!!!!”  I felt a warm, little hand grab mine and begin to tug as hard as he could. After assembling toys until the wee hours I felt that I hadn’t even slept yet. A little girl voice joined him in his efforts to get me out of that warm bed.  A smile crept across my face and I sat straight up and said, with all of the excitement that I felt, “YAY!!!  Let’s go see what he brought you this year!!!”

Its show time. I switched the tree to life and there it was. The picture I’d dreamed of. All of the saving and overtime hours and layaway lines…the planning and wrapping and worrying whether I could do it….All of the effort that it took to wake to a morning like this was worth every little bit of it. The gifts were wrapped in so many different colors. The bows, beneath the light of the tree, were so shiny. And they’d change their color when the lights on the tree twinkled on and then off.

My two babies were ELATED!!! They were jumping up and down and their squeaky little voices proclaiming, “SANTA was HERE!!!” I begged of them to let mommy get her coffee and I’d come in and they could start to unwrap their gifts.

I’ve always loved slippers. I remember having them on that morning. They were soft and fuzzy and warm, and wrapped in my robe I sat there on the couch, sipping my coffee, and watched them unwrap each and every gift. When they’d come across some socks or underwear, they’d look at it and chuck it over their shoulder. Clothes are boring, but this mommy was so glad that I could wrap them as gifts. I guess it was because I wanted them to know that warm, clean clothes are a gift. They truly are. But I knew that they were aching to get to the toy they’d wanted above all else. And they did find their perfect toy under that tree. I’d made sure of that.  I remember it, like it was yesterday. They’d finally unwrap their dream toy and clutch it to themselves and hug it…  “I Got IT, I GOT IT!!!” It was that unfiltered joy in the light of Christmas morning that made it an indelible memory and it’ll live in my heart forever.

Thinking back, as a single mom, I don’t really know how I did it.  I remember the worrying that I wouldn’t be able to create a Christmas morning like this one. I couldn’t afford to even take my kids to the dentist every year. If my car had broken down, I wouldn’t be able to get to work, nor could I afford to fix it. There were times that I couldn’t pay the gas bill and had to use kerosene heaters and we would sleep in one room to stay warm. So…I would put the toys on layaway first of the year and I’d pay on them until the weekend before Christmas. If the “dream toy” changed during the course of the year, I’d go and switch them in layaway. Old dream toy out and new Dream Toy IN!

It’s good to look back, sometimes. I get to feel all of the love and the magic we shared as a family of three, all over again. I’m pretty darn sure that they never even knew that we were poor. Our mom did that for us, too.  It’s Christmas Magic. Pure and simple.  

“It’s okay, it’s going to be just fine,” I whispered. “Nobody has died here”, for God sake!  They were all packed up, the Jeep was warm and everything was ready for their long trek heading east. Everything, except for me. Kisses and hugs and thank-yous to and from one and all. Before I placed him into his car seat, he gave me one last hug. It was a doozy, as it squeezed a giant unyielding lump into my throat.  I fought the tears that were hell-bent to come. I headed into the house before they backed out of our drive. Somehow I just knew that I couldn’t watch them actually go.

Jumping the steps into the house, I walked in and looked around. Yup, lots to do. I walked from room to room assessing the “damage” brought by five glorious days of trains and tracks and books and blankets. Man, I missed them so much. You know what isn’t a great idea?  Walking around in the house remembering all of the moments that were full of everything except for silence. It was making me feel worse.

I know by experience that this is just self-inflicted torture and there was no joy in it. Only more tears…so I’d fix that.

It’s so easy to sit in my writing chair and philosophize about life and joy and share stories about overcoming challenges in life. It’s especially easy when I wasn’t having to use my own advice. So now is the time to put into use the tools that I know, for sure, will help me.

I closed the door behind me and skipped to my studio. Grabbed the remote control and turned on the Hallmark Christmas channel. I took a quenching gulp of my iced tea and felt that lump in my throat begin to dissolve. I began the process of creating a red hummingbird that held the ashes of someone’s deceased loved one. Working on this beautiful glass brought my heart back to healing mode. I had surrounded myself with all that served me. Everything inside of my glass studio brings me joy. And that was surely how I felt. Joy! And Gratitude.

The house would be brought back into shape soon enough. I would store the trains and toys in the closet, under the chairs, in good time. My job then and now- was…and is….to heal my heart and focus on what feels good and great. There’s just no time in my life to dwell in sadness or to decide to stay anywhere near there.

Yes, that little boy took a bit of Mimi’s heart when they left. But I know that he’ll keep it safe with him and he will return it to me when I hold him in my arms once again.

How blessed I am to have a family that I love so very much. I think of some that choose to hold on to grudges that separate them from one another and I wish them the grace of an open and loving heart. I am not wishing the pain of letting go on anyone, except for to say, how glorious it is to love them so much that it’s physically painful to let them go. Our lives are a collection of choices that we’ve made. And all of mine have brought me here. I’m so very grateful.

 It’s from a far better place that I write this today. Yesterday, for just a bit, I was walking thru my house as if it were a museum of Christmas’ Past. I chose to NOT STAY THERE. Don’t stay, if it hurts. Fix it, when it hurts. Fill the space with things that are wonderful. New memories will gently tap you on the shoulder and ask to come in. Let them in.

I’m so glad that I did.

I’ll tell ya what, though….this Mimi stuff isn’t for wimps. It’s hardcore heart wrenching stuff. Who knew you could have a love like that. And now that I’m on the other side of tears I’m going to go and have a glorious day, just like I’m meant to have. I’ll play with glass and feel the magic of James Taylor as he sings. And I’ll glance every once in a while to a picture of Jackson in the corner of my studio and think…oh, he’ll be back. ONWARD!!!

I try, most days, not to dread anything. It never changes a thing except that is drains the joy from the day. Yet here it is, Tuesday morning.  This day they will pack everything up and head back home.  This is the bittersweet moment that I will commit to memory every single thing that has filled my heart with so much love over the past few days. Every laugh, little boy giggle, hug and kiss, and every book read, with him snuggled up next to me will live in my memories.

To everything, turn, turn turn…there is a season, turn, turn, turn. To get a taste of life, complete with grandbaby hugs, is more than I’d ever have imagined. This Christmas season, made ever sweeter with my babies and theirs here with me.

Last night we celebrated Christmas together. Noah and Beth created a dinner of prime rib, fresh green beans and mashed potatoes and it was just delicious. We opened a couple bottles of red wine and took our time enjoying it all.

After dinner, it was time to open up the presents. We sat around the tree and I passed out the packages. Brayden had been so excited all day, having to wait and wait and Wait!!! He’d eyed the long, wrapped package with his name on it…walked straight to it, and plucked it up from among the other gifts. When he opened it the excitement was tangible. It was a Fortnight Nerf gun and it had extra “bullets”!!! Uncle Noah and Aunt Beth had found the perfect gift.

It reminded me of the Christmas Story when Ralphie got that gun he’d been wanting…the magic that lives in the eyes of a little boy that unwraps a toy like that reminds me, once again,   of the Christmas mornings that found my children sitting ‘round the tree. And if I am still long enough to search my heart, yes, I am with my sisters, sitting ‘round the tree, with the same hopping, jumping thrill and excitement of the miracle called Christmas morning. The very same joyful anticipation lives in each generation. Its hope and love wrapped in pretty paper.  

My heart is full and I am so very happy. The only thing that could’ve made it even better would have had Courtney, Carsten, and Cora sitting with us around that tree. Jackson and Cora and Brayden could’ve played together and created memories of their own. The cousin kind of memories. Those cousin memories are stronger than steel. My childhood memories are full of those. It’s how we learned to share. It’s how I learned to throw cinders far and fast enough to hit him square in the back!!!! Now THAT is talent!!! (sorry Jeff)

And Courtney and Carsten could’ve been sitting with us, telling stories and laughing until way past time to go to bed.

I’m trying to keep my heart above water, as the time clicks by and they have to go. I miss them already, and they’re still here. It’ll be time for me to go back to work in the glass studio and make up for all of the work I’ve chosen to sit aside, in exchange for every single drop of joy I’ve collected over these past few days. I think I’ll surprise Beth with a hot Starbucks for her last morning here. I love them so very much. It’s just part of hello, sometimes….saying good-bye. I’m so very thankful to have shared this time with them. I’ll cherish the memories always.

My first thought this morning was how warm I’d be in my soft, red, Christmas slippers. I turned on the fireplace and lit the tree and our home turned into my very own sanctuary. The cinnamon lingers in the air from my coffee cup and all of the magic of the last two days are just aching to make it to the page.

After over a year of planning it, Marks Surprise party was PERFECT. Thanks to the love of my friends and family, I had all of the helping hands needed to make it everything and more. At 7:00 pm on December 5 the door opened and he was greeted in surprise!!! In attendance were his lifelong friends and new friends and neighbor friends, and work friends.  There were balloons, pictures, food and his favorite band, stories shared and memories brought back to life and smiles and tears and everything in between to fill his heart and mine. Moments such as these make their mark in time and will always be a treasured memory. I’m so thankful to everyone that helped me to find his old friends , near and far. I’m so thankful to you all for helping me to pull it off. He’s a nosey sort and I still can’t believe we made it happen. And thank you, to those that came to share this special time with him, and for him. We can’t wait to see the pictures. (I’m almost afraid to)

Yesterday was full of family and fun. Noah and Beth went out for a bit and I got to have Jackson all to myself. We played trains and read books and I got to chase him through the house because, as he reminded me, he was a dinosaur and it was my job to catch him.  And if I got too close, I was instructed to slow down and not catch him. I never did catch him…and he loved that.

Brittany and Brayden came to dinner. I’m so happy when our kids are here. Noah and Beth made baked Ziti and OMG it was delicious. He makes the best sauce. Brittany made oreo truffles. Everyone loved them. She’s so creative. PLUS she makes delicious and beautiful  drinks. Like a human rolodex…she sees a cucumber and can make a drink with it as it’s feature. FANCY!!!

After dinner, we tag teamed the kitchen and I made the mistake of sitting down. All of my best efforts to stay awake were failing me badly.   I guess it all caught up with me. So, I had to say good night to everyone and give up on the day. I truly didn’t want to. At night, with my kids at home FUN and FUNNY things happen every single time! Instead of fighting it, I turned into a grown-up and went to bed. Besides, tomorrow is another day.

The feeling of knowing that my work was done for the day turned to glorious bliss as I stretched beneath the covers. I was happy and warm and full and so very grateful. I don’t remember if I got to the end of my gratitude list before my dreams took the wheel and I really don’t think it matters much. My life continues to delight me. So much love everywhere I look.

It’s 7:09 am. The sun is just about to light up the sky…I can see it at the very edges. This one should be one for the books. So far it’s a faint whisper of pale watercolor orange. I know what will surely follow….the most majestic pronouncement of the perfect Saturday, December 5, 2020, complete with deep magenta and burgundy…

And that should be just enough light to get me going, out of the door, and onto to my many stops along the way.  I can hear my car, warming up and getting ready for the ride. I think that I’ll stop for a cup of coffee and something homemade at Braun n Shorts. There’s just nothing like living in a small town to make you feel the Christmas magic growing stronger every day.   

As I sit here, in my writing chair, visions of yesterday keep circling round. each one begging my attention…and each one deserving of it.  So many wonderful memories….

Mark got home a bit early from work on his birthday.  And THAT never happens. Jackson was so excited that Grandpa was home. Noah was going to make dinner and I LOVE that when that happens.  That boy can cook.

I love it when Brittany comes over and so does Jackson.  We took turns chasing him as he yelled that he was a fireman and wanted to show us where the fires where. He delighted as we cheered for him. He and his toy fire truck put all of the fires out and saved us all.  I love how his laughter fills the room. How I love that little boy. 

Yesterday was full to the brim of everything that makes a house a home.  It was standing room only in the kitchen as Noah fried chicken wings and we ate them, every one, as he piled them on the plates.  His home made barbeque sauce was so GOOD!!! And Beth’s homemade rub was the best I’ve had. Veggies dipped in ranch and blue cheese topped it off so perfectly. 

Then to top off an already wonderful day, while Jackson was sleeping soundly (thank goodness), we grownups were fully invested in making as much noise as 5 grownups can make.  We played a game of “Freedom of Speech”. We didn’t care about the rules. We just made them up as we went along. And the laughter!!! I couldn’t catch my breath and my stomach still hurts today. JOY!

Chico, in his ever undaunted efforts to dig through his pillow bed until he finds carpet, was especially LOUD this morning. Maybe it was because I didn’t go to bed until after 1:00 this morning that it was especially annoying.  I knew that I wasn’t the only one fighting the urge to move him to any other room but ours because Mark  scolded, “CHICO!”  And today, being Mark’s 60 birthday, I decided to remove said irritant from our bedroom and let the birthday boy sleep a while longer.  Besides, by that point I was already awake. So, begrudgingly, I grabbed him like a football and we retired to the couch, where he instantly fell asleep…snoring.

There’s something so cozy about snuggling on the couch with the softest and fuzziest of blankets and the fattest of sleeping Chihuahuas.   It was so dark in the room and I wanted to sleep just awhile longer. My mind had other ideas and did I just see a faint colored light coming through the windows?  What a pity that would have been to sleep through that glorious sunrise. The subtle light just below the tree line turned in mere moments into a symphony of color and promise. I should have known!  There was a reason for all of this.  I’m supposed to be awake so that I didn’t miss my chance to see this day being born.

So, what to do with December 4, 2020?   I’ll start it all off by wishing my husband the happiest of birthdays. Then I’ll wait to hear the sound of my grandson bouncing up the stairs, his smile lighting up the room. I’ll be digging in the toy closet to unearth the wooden trains that Brayden played with just yesterday….wasn’t it yesterday?  And he’ll be jumping up and down, as three year old little boys do.  In anticipation and excitement he will be asking me, “Did you find them yet, Mimi?”  “Did you????”

So much joy lives here. It’s in every single moment of every single day. I’m so glad that I’m up and awake while everyone else sleeps. Noah, Beth and Jackson are sleeping off the effects of a 12 hour car ride. Chico is snoring on the couch. I’ve had my first cup of coffee and that epic sunrise was like a sacred promise of endless possibility.

Oh!!!!  I think I hear Jackson on the stairs!!! Mimi Time!!!!!  I’m so happy!!!

Oh, the smell of Pumpkin Spice coffee this morning is like a pair of fuzzy slippers, warm and inviting.  I feel the chill of the morning after slipping out of our warm bed. But he’s still sleeping and that’s good. He needs the rest and it gives me the time that I claim for my own to share my thoughts. How I love this time of mine.

Before I sat down to write, I glanced at my calendar to plan my day. It’s a recurring set of circumstances that I find myself in. I have piled much, maybe too much, on my plate this December 3, 2020. I looked at the list of things to be accomplished in this day and I can feel that squeeze of pressure…that I’ve put on myself! My heart beats a little faster, my breaths get quicker, my foot starts tapping, and I think of short cuts that I could take to get to the heavy lifting to make SURE it’s all DONE by the day’s end. Wow!  Look what I can do to myself just by imposing unreasonable expectations.

Not so long ago I would’ve forgone my writing time and traded it for taking something from my list of things to do. I wouldn’t have tasted this amazing coffee nor would I be wiggling my toes in these fuzzy, warm slippers.  I wouldn’t be looking at the Christmas lights, just outside, as they glow beneath the frost, reminding me that it’s going to be just fine. I would’ve missed the school bus carrying all of my neighbor’s children to one of the last school days before their Christmas vacation. I wouldn’t have even noticed my very fat Chihuahua stretched out by the fire or my even fatter Bella, curled up in her foam bed, as she dreams of chasing something she has yet to catch.

Yes, I’ll have to scratch a few things from my list today. Yesterday, that would have been unacceptable.  I would have thought it some sort of a failure. Today, not so much.  I remember when I’d work myself to exhaustion and at the end of the day, after getting everything done, my reward was fatigue, resentment, anxiety and a clear slate to begin the next day. How arduous. There had been no blue ribbon, no trophy to put in a box for the attic. Today, looking back, I’m not proud of the old me for trading in the little things for a list of “done” My work ethic was never questioned by anyone but me! My kids didn’t cherish my completed list of arbitrary, self directed tasks each day. And now, as I am older and I choose to look back, I wonder  if I’d  made myself so “busy” so that I just  didn’t have  the time to wonder or wish for better…for joy…I wonder if, then, I even thought it would be possible. So I worked, and I worked and I missed so much of my babies growing up.  I wish I’d have read to them around the Christmas tree. I wish that I would’ve gotten the paint out more often, made cookies, played with the toys Santa had brought.  I wish I’d have slowed down.  To FEEL what really needed to be done. I needed to feel the time passing…not just notice that it had passed.

So, today, yes, I’m scratching much from my to-do list. I have my babies coming to visit and I’m going to savor every breath of it. This is the best of life. Sharing and loving and learning from the lessons taught to me by my younger self. It’s all part of the dance. I can’t change what was, but I can sure create an amazing today.  I’m so excited and grateful that I get the chance.

I heard a song yesterday and it took me along for the ride. His voice and the lyrics were of the island. Warm breezes and salty air just felt so good as the sand found its way between my toes. The palm trees swayed to the music of the steel guitars and drums and I just wanted to feel that forever. I think about what my life would be like if…would I be happy there?

I think about a little dark haired boy that is so smart and funny and so very far away. How I’d love to be in his every day memories, like I my grandmother was for me?   I’d love to be in Virginia with my son and his family, close enough to touch. I’m missing so much.  I wonder, would I be happy there?

I dream about a little girl with long blond hair, in her Frozen dresses and her sparkly shoes. How I long to be in California with my daughter and her family, sharing recipes on Sundays and playing dress up I want to hear the screen door open to see them coming in spend the day. And I wonder…is that where true happiness lives?

These days, my mother is just tired. . Her smile is still quick, and her laugh fills my heart with so much joy.  But I’m not there in her every day. My heart wants to be with my mother and my sisters in Elkhart. I miss the feeling of home at Christmas. The little girl in me wants to eat my mother’s Christmas cookies and dunk them in ice cold milk. Maybe that’s where I belong?

This moment, as I sit in my writing chair I send my spirit off to play and I visit all of the places that beg my heart to stay. It’s taken years of hide n seek for me to realize that I am home when I am happy. The here and now of it all fills me so much joy.

A friend once told me “NO MATTER WHERE YOU GO, THERE YOU ARE!”

Those words are so profound. I’ve traveled around for years. I’ve sampled life in measures great and small. I’ve hung the curtains in every place that I’ve called home. The greatest comfort of my 63 years is realizing that happiness is inside of me. It’s a choice that I make each day. When the dark clouds roll in, as they sometimes do, I have the choice to sulk in the dark or dance in the rain.

I am home in my heart. No matter where that may be. Today, right now, I am the happiest I’ve ever been. And because that feels so wonderful…so darn wonderful…I’m going to try to keep it that way.

It almost sounds like an alarm bell. It’s the countdown to Christmas. This is where my dreams for the perfect Christmas and the expectations that I’ve created for myself are going to meet for a little chat. It’s entirely possible, as I’ve seen it happen every single year, that my expectations think that they are going to run the show. I’ve allowed that to happen every year. Every minute of every day, from December 1 until the ending bell on December 24 at midnight has been a race to get it done. Somewhere in time, in my mind, the perfect Christmas morning was born. And each year I’ve appointed myself QUEEN LYNEE’, making it my job to recreate said perfect Christmas morning. This year things are going to be just a bit different. Why, you ask? The answer is because this is the season that holds all of my little girl magic and I want to slow down long enough to savor the flavors of it. I want the smells of it to linger in the air. I want to notice the glint of silver on freshly fallen snow.

A count down screams that the end looms near. It’s a giant clock that ticks away time.  I’m not going to do that to myself. Not anymore.  This is December 1, 2020. Today the world turns a page to Christmas stories, young and old. It’s time for songs to play that we learned for our school Christmas programs. It’s time to sit under a soft and cozy blanket and watch the fire.  Today begins the season where we all slow down to say Merry Christmas to one another and smiles are given to strangers and our hearts mend and our love grows.

This year I’m going take the time that my tears have needed…let my tears have time to fall and allow my heart to yearn to see the faces of my loved ones that won’t be here this Christmas. It’s a blur…Christmas. So many people that I love that have transitioned before me. I miss them every year, but at Christmas…I miss them with my very soul. I can feel them near, and my memories of them makes me whole again. Tears are healing when we allow them time to fall.

The perfect Christmas morning is a feeling of being home again. It lives in my little girl memories where we would wake early and run to see what Santa had left for us. Our mom always found a way to make it so very special. We never even knew that we were poor. Now that is Christmas magic.

My desire to create the magic for my family and friends is strong. It’s what beats my heart at Christmas time. But, when I feel that all too familiar squeeze of anxiety…well, that’s the moment that I throw off my Queen of Christmas hat.   There’s no joy in failed expectations.  I just have to remember what is truly important is the time I’ll take to make treasured memories. I’ll cook the dinners and slow down enough to taste it. I’ll make the cookies and take the time to enjoy decorating them…and I’ll enlist my family to help. I want to be in the pictures this year. I want to look at old family pictures and share stories of my grandmother’s perfect Christmases and the joy that I had and have today because of her and because our mom worked so hard to prove that magic does exist. And it did and it does.

They say Christmas is for children and maybe so…but it’s for me and for you, too. The light that lives in the eyes of a child when Santa has come is the brightest of lights. It’s that light that begs to be replayed over and over that keeps me just wishing for those moments again and again. That light…..it’s love. That’s what it is. It’s unbridled and unapologetically love.  And that love is contagious. It’s why I’ve worked so hard every year, to create the place and time so that love has a safe place to live.  And it’s Christmas time that warms the heart and allows us to be kind…all of us. Kindness is love, too. Isn’t it wonderful to see it on every corner? A smile and a wish for everyone to have a Merry Christmas.  Yeah, I don’t think that I’ll work so hard this year. I think that love will find its way. My job will be to enjoy this Christmas season. Oh, I’ll do my part, for sure, so I’m going to check my list and check it twice and then sit with a cup of eggnog and watch Elf for the 100th time and I’ll laugh and  leave the rest to Santa.

They say it happens when you get older. I looked into the mirror and my dad was looking back at me. . I can also see my grandmother in my eyes. 

At first it made me feel sad. Gone is the clear, smooth skin that I never even noticed until it was gone.  And no amount of money can bring it back.

Just yesterday I looked down at my hands. They are my mother’s hands and also, the hands of my grandmother.  When did that happen? Gone are the straight, strong fingers that I never bothered to notice and cherish. I guess I never really believed that someday they’d change.

So here I sit, at a crossroads. And I ponder what happens from here? Since this is the youngest I’ll ever be, today…right now….it stands to reason that this is the best it’s going to be.   So, shall I focus on what is lost or on what is gained? One choice makes me feel bad, and the other makes me feel good. I know which choice I’m making.  Feeling bad does not change one thing, except that I would have given my joy away on this only November 30, 2020 that I’ll ever have.

So yes, gone is my youth, at least physically. Gone are my young hands. And as much as I’d love to, sometimes, I can’t go back.  So I look, again, at my hangs, and I understand. My hands have held my new born babies and now have held their babies, too. These hands have made rv roofs and trumpets and they’ve painted and cleaned home after home. They have cooked and repaired and made beds with precision. My hands are been cut and bruised and burnt and still they are ready for more.

My hands have caressed and expressed my every emotion. They have created magic in glass and have played the guitar and insisted that I sing.  They have drawn the bow over the strings of my viola and understood as I wept from the beauty of it all.   They have laid sod, hug holes, thrown rock, served coffee and made Christmas cookies. They have clapped so loudly for things that are right and have been clenched in fury and rage when the world is unfair and unjust. And they have come together for prayer in thanks and gratitude. I’d say it was a fair trade. Wisdom and delight today leaves in it’s wake wonderful memories of my youth. And this day holds all possibility. I think I’ll go after it. Blessings to you.

Oh how I love Sunday mornings, with its lowered expectation of much getting done too early. It’s just fine on this day that I sit here in my writing chair, sipping hot coffee, and visualizing what this day will hold. I often do that. I close my eyes just for a moment and I see the project I’ve been working on as completed. I see my friends and family, individually, feeling well and smiling as they’ve survived being held captive by COVID19.  I feel that grateful feeling that I know so well and I count my blessings….only then will I begin my day in earnest.

Feeling grateful wasn’t always easy, and yes, when I let something get under my skin, I’m not practicing gratitude. When I first realized and understood that having a good day was a choice…not just luck or serendipity, but a choice that I make each and every day, I began my practice in being grateful. To help me make it so, I use affirmations and I believe them with my whole heart. I repeat them every day. Something like,

 “I am whole and I’m so happy. I have everything that I need. I am healthy and I am successful. Money always finds me. My business is growing every day. I am more than enough.  I see the good in everyone today. Everything happens in my favor! Today is mine and I’m so excited to see what happens next.”

At first I did this through tears and fear and sometimes untold sadness…today I say these things and I believe them to my very core. Our lives are to be enjoyed and to every degree that I can I reach for it…I strive to live my best life by observing the details and celebrating them.  My days start out happy and I keep them this way by listening to music, playing with glass, writing these letters to and to me, too.

If, sometimes, the world gets too loud…if the sounds are like nails on the chalkboard, if I need to escape and find the peace that my soul needs, I know where to go. I go inside of me and find another way to look at it. My place to reset my perspective lives in me. Like my mom told me, as the shutters would bang against the house during a storm….”Lynee’, just make music of it.  Turn it into music. “And that’s what I do…I just turn it into music.  I hope that you can, too. Our lives are too short to be unhappy or to hate. Today, you can start again.

The world outside my window is covered in a frosty blanket…white and crisp. It covers the Christmas lights that were hung in sunshine just yesterday. As November slides into December I think about how most everything moves in an ever-changing circle…Spring into summer into fall and now…into winter.

I’ve loved watching as my babies grew and played and chased their dreams and now have babies of their own.  Someday, before they can even believe it, their babies will have their own…and on and on in an incredible exercise in all things being possible.

As I grow older, what is well with my soul speaks loudly and clearly.  I cherish the time that is today and don’t give much of my precious time or energy to any trouble that lived in my yesterdays.  It’s just not worth the effort. As much as I have tried, I have yet to be able to change any of the events of the days before.

So, onward and upward, as I hold on the moments of this day; this, the only November 28, 2020 that I’ll ever have.  I will fill with it with magic.  I will fill it with kindness and love and know that in my universe it will return to me each and every time.

May you find in this day all that makes you whole and happy. May your every wish come true.

Days, like yesterday, come and they go with only the highlights lingering long enough to be able to look them over a time or two. Spinning round, replaying sights and sounds as that day ends to make room for the next, off they go to collect in the corners of my memories.

What a lovely day it was. The smell of turkey, the Thanksgiving Day Parade could be heard through the house.  The table was set, complete with candles in my turkey candle holders. My intention was to actually light those babies this year. Yet as we ate our last bites I realized that I’d forgotten to light them again. So back into the drawer to keep for another year…oh well.

After dinner, my grandson was so excited to help to decorate the Christmas tree. I remember that, as a child. It would take forever, it seemed, for mom to wrap the tree in lights and space them just right…to make sure the bulbs were working before we would finally be allowed to hang the ornaments on the tree…and then the tinsel…one strand at a time to make the tree come to life. Those memories were front and center last night as he delighted in hanging the ornaments just right and thanks to Brittany it was done in good time. Today, our family Christmas tree is lit; it shines as all of the love from all of the years hangs from its branches.

It was a smaller version of the Thanksgivings in our past. Part of our family has COVID19 and the rest are afraid of getting it. Believe me, I don’t blame any of them for anything. They were missed. Next year will make up for it, I promise.

I had some help this year and that was so NICE! I mean, he’s a chef, for Gods sake!  He did the turkey on the grill and that was a first! It was delicious and I had my whole oven for anything and everything else.  Mark was busy hanging things and fixing things and getting our home ready for the Christmas season which is…NOW!

After the kitchen was clean and shiny once again, thanks to Paula, I sat down at the end of a wonderful day. With my grandson sitting right next to me we watched our new addiction, Super Natural. Today we will marathon watch Harry Potter and maybe make some Christmas cookies. Making Memories is the plan for the day. He’s just asked for Blueberry pancakes…Gotta Go!!!This feels so good.

Happy Thanksgiving

I wonder if this is how my grandma felt…I know what needs to be done and I know how to do it. Everything is right where I put it and it feels like I’ve made this Thanksgiving dinner hundreds of times…yet I know that’s not really true.  The young mother that was me is tapping me on the shoulder and reminding me that it wasn’t all that long ago that I was so afraid of messing things up. I remember my mother and her sisters in grandma’s kitchen, scurrying around and never missing a beat. They all just seemed to instinctively know what to do…I wondered if I’d ever have that level of confidence in the kitchen…

I stood in the middle row; we’d been practicing for months! Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother’s house we go. The horse knows the way to follow the sleigh over the white and drifted snow….

Each grade did their own songs and I wanted our class to be so good! I was afraid I’d miss a note or forget the words…We were great and I never missed one word.  I’m so glad that I still remember that song, not only the words, but the feeling I always had when we sang it.

Looking back, I wonder how many incredible moments in my life were wrapped in fear or self-doubt. And I wonder if I can hold tightly enough to this lesson to remember it the next time I feel challenged by something new. Would it be even more wonderful if I just kick fear to the curb!? Just dive right in and know that it’s going to be great!!!

Oh, I’m sure I’ll make a few mistakes as I go…at least this year, I didn’t forget to take the bags of mystery meat out of the turkey. I’ll never forget the feeling I had when my mom called (too late) to ask me if I’d remembered to do that….nope. Life is so good. I’m so grateful! Love to you and yours.  

What is it about this time of year that makes me homesick…when I’m home???  The turkey is ready for tomorrow and I have everything that I need to create a Thanksgiving Day feast. My mom used to always make sure that the parade was on the television and we would be so excited to see Santa Claus at the end of it, proclaiming to every child that was watching that Christmas was on the way.

 Home is where your heart is…Home is where you hang your hat…There’s no place like home…When this happens, when my heart yearns for yesterday and yesteryear I find myself straining to hear my children’s laughter or smell the sausage casserole that my Mother always made the day before Thanksgiving. Tears of grateful days gone by visit me today…just for a little while, as I live those days from my life all over again, I guess because once wasn’t enough…because I miss it.  I miss my mom and my sisters. I miss my children running around the kitchen, driving me absolutely crazy as I worked to create their memories of the holidays. The familiar love that filled my heart as a little girl remains full today.  

For now, I’ll tuck this away and get on with today’s mission of bringing yet another Christmas into our home. The tree will be well dressed for the occasion and by this evening I’ll be sitting by the fire, watching the lights chase round the tree.

Life goes on for the lucky ones, lucky and blessed for another Thanksgiving. The world turns and days pass into nights before we slow down enough to see all of the magic and love that gets sprinkled round, like glitter!   “These are the good old days”…a song from years ago told me. The older I get the more that I know that it’s true.  These are the good old days… Yesterday was wonderful and so is today. I have plenty to do, my hands will be busy this day and next, I am warm and loved and happy. Next year’s memories will be full of what I choose to do today and tomorrow. So I need to get cracking!  Laugh and Love! Let’s do that!

So, yes, though I am missing my babies and theirs this morning, I am so happy here. I have everything that I need and more than I ever imagined.  It is home. I am home. And my heart can live in more than one place.  I send my love to those of you that are missing loved ones. May your memories of joy and love sustain you today.

Happy Day before Thanksgiving.

Yesterday he told me that he had everything that he needed and he thanked me for asking. He was in a hospital bed, in the ICU.  Today he is gone from this Earth. COVID19 has taken yet another friend.

He lived his life as a Christian. He was kind and sweet and he loved his family with his whole heart and soul. He loved to ride and he loved life.

Isn’t it sad that that’s all that I really know about him? He was my age and I’ve known him since school days. But I really didn’t KNOW him very well.   And it’s more than the fact that he’s gone that is hurting me, squeezing my heart, it’s the fact that he is gone and now I will never get another chance to know who he was. I know that we can’t KNOW everyone…but the finality of their death calls the question...who do I care to know?

Sitting, now, in my writing chair I open my heart to inspiration.  The warmth of my coffee is comforting this morning. I hold my cup with both hands and I inhale, breathing in the familiar aroma of pumpkin spice. As happens when someone that I care about transitions from the physical, I search my memories to find a way feel them near…to sense them…to beckon to them, please come back if only for a moment. So I whisper to the angels to hold on to him in his transition and ask that he visit us now and again. I ask him to watch over us and to say hello to my loved ones that have gone before.

Always seeking answers to my wonderings, what is the lesson in this? Whenever and wherever there is pain, hurt, disappointment, tragedy, loss, scare, near miss, or heartbreak… there is a lesson for us to learn. Some new way to look at things…

And instead of allowing these things to scar us and to callous our hearts, we can choose to find a quiet place where we are warm and safe and we can ask our better angels for clarity.   Sometimes it takes just a breath, a mere moment to hear the answers and other times…with an open heart and a spirit that is hopeful, I wait.

I mean, I’ve known her for years! I have memories of her that I treasure and so I keep them safely in my heart. As young children we would hold each other by our sweaty, earthy little hands and we would try to race the wind. Our laughter still rings in my ears. I knew that we would be friends forever. In the heart and mind of a little girl I just knew that I loved her. I shared every single day with her. She was the keeper of my secrets and life was just so, so good.

I’m not really sure how it happens that close friends drift apart. That that same racing wind became the wind that scattered, separated us and sentenced us to become mere memories. And as wise people over the years have tried to console my occasional broken heart, they’ve reminded me that some people are in our lives but for a moment, others for just a season and some until the very end.

So, my thoughts aren’t about what I’m missing in my life and I don’t sit here, drinking this decadent spiced tea, lamenting the fish that got away…instead, it’s thinking about what skin I have in the game as I’ve let yet another friend slip into my memories. Did I place a label around their neck and decide what group they were in by some comment they’d made or the way that they voted? Did I judge them and take their inventory and decide their worthiness…did I imagine my life without their constant messiness? Did I forget what I had loved about them and about what, in their trust in me to love them no matter what; they’d shown me in their raw nakedness? What about me is so “perfect” that I can walk in their shoes and make decisions for them that they know nothing about? And when they fail me, in my arrogant expectation, why would I just wipe my figurative shoes and walk away?

 Have I forgotten how to love my friends and family without expectation of love in return? If, indeed they are toxic to my soul, I agree I need to wipe my feet and walk away. But why not sit for a moment and remember those good times?  Remember those moments that made us laugh and love and think how lucky we were that our paths had crossed in our journey that we call life. I want to be a kind and safe place for the people that I love. They can trust that their hearts are safe with me. I’m not naïve. I know that people change; life changes, and if, at the end of the day, too much separates you, by all means, follow the wind. But at least give it a try. Reach out, speak your truth and don’t forget to love. Namaste

My first thought this morning, even before opening my eyes was, “I’m tired, I

don’t want to get out of this bed.” That first thought led to the next, “Owww, my

neck hurts…what the hell time is it anyway!? I’m still tired.” Not exactly the dialog

I wanted to have to begin my day, even if it was only with myself. This has

happened before and I wasn’t about to let it happen again. My negative thoughts

conspire with one another and it’s always a prelude to a challenging day devoid of

gratitude and warmth. Rhonda Byrne wrote that before getting out of bed I need

to think of things for which I am grateful. She wrote that when one foot hits the

floor I should say, “Thank” and when the other foot follows I should say, “You”. I

admit it sounded pretty ridiculous, but when I tried it I can honestly say that it

works. Thank-you! That I have this brand new day to fill with wonder and lovely

sights and smells. Thank-you! That I am warm and happy and that I have this

delicious hot cup of cinnamon coffee that reminds me of my grandma’s cinnamon

rolls when I was just a little girl. Thank-you! That when I look out of windows of my

home I see the houses of the most wonderful people on this planet! Our friends

live all around us. I love them with all of my heart…every single one of them.

Thank-you! That today I will be in my glass studio and I’ll be teaching brand new

students to create their own glass art and by the end of the day, they will be new

friends. Thank-you! I am healthy, my husband is healthy, our children and their

children are healthy.

If my first thoughts of the only November 22, 2020 that I’ll ever have had been left

unchallenged I would have started it off with grumpy, complaining, and unhappy

feelings and thoughts. We all know that leads to more of the same. I’m not

wasting one day. I pulled my feet back up from the floor and tucked them under

my sheet and began anew. My new thoughts came. I am so grateful to have this

day. I am so excited to see what it will hold. Thank-you for my life and for my

chance to start it over again. Today, thoughts of my son and his family will keep

me smiling and exited because they are coming to visit soon. I’ll be playing with

wooden trains and coloring on the pages of my very own grandson’s memories.

It’s so much more than I ever imagined. My hearts feels so full as I write this. I

wanted to share this with you. It’s magic, really, how we can create our lives, one

day at a time, with intention and purpose. Today, I intend to remember that

having a great day begins with great thoughts and acts. I’m ready! Are you?

The world sleeps and the silence is palpable…I feel my heart beating and I search

for the perfect song to keep time with it. As one does when sleep eludes them, I

play with my memories and dream of days to come. It’s almost predictable when

I’m awake and passively perusing my memories that I land on something that I’ve

said or done and regretted. I relive those moments and suffer the feelings of

regret over and over and endlessly over again. I feel the sadness, my heart shrinks

and I hear myself speaking aloud, as if I was there…again…..still….

Being stuck, though self imposed, in those memories begs the question, Why? Is

there a life lesson to be gained by visiting these times in my memory? I’ve certainly

forgotten wonderfully glorious times in my past. Why can’t I get stuck there? I am

63 years old and I’ve been awake in a sleeping world many, many times. I do know

how to travel my own mind and I will escape the misery of being stuck in the mire

of regret. Yet, I wonder why these same moments in my memory entice me to visit

once again. An even bigger question is why I choose to stay…that maybe the

memory will change? That maybe now I will have learned something from it?

Once I’m there, I relive the regret in real time, feel the feelings and know that I

don’t belong there. I focus intent to return to joy and the abundance there and off

I go. What a relief. I am keenly aware that some people may get stuck there and

are unable to fly away.

It’s a choice. I know this. When I choose to stay, even for a moment, in those

memories, I know that nothing changes…It’ll be regrettable…so, in the light of this

new day, I can only surmise that the lesson is to know that regret of something in

my past belongs where it is, where it lives, behind me. I’ve been sorry long

enough. I’ve tried to fix it if it was fixable and sometimes it just isn’t. I am

sorry…I’ve been sorry and that’s enough. Losing another moment of joy by living

through the regrets of my past is a fool’s errand. So as of today, if my toe gets

even close to the line of yesterdays sadness…I’ll choose today. I have the power to

do that. We all have that power. I takes practice and self-awareness. When I feel

the negative feelings I can choose to stay or I can choose to leave. If I can’t control

my mind, who can? I can make today decisions and feel joy in them. I’d say that’s

a much better use of my time.