The New Year arrives without pause, leaving little time to reflect before we jump into resolutions and fresh starts. But what if we allowed ourselves a moment to breathe? Instead of rushing into unrealistic goals, we can transition with intention—reflecting on the past, setting mindful intentions, and embracing the year ahead with grace. My word for the year is FORWARD. What’s yours?
America is the only country I know of that has a national holiday set aside for the purpose of giving thanks. Starting in 1691, a day has been dedicated to food, family and friends gathering together. The Plymouth colonists shared from the bounty of their harvest to celebrate with neighbors, a feast.
Everyone has a story to tell and there is someone that needs to hear it.
Have you ever found yourself in a place of life transition, change that you didn’t ask for or want?
I have and that’s what happened to me. I suddenly found myself facing life alone in the circumstance I didn’t ask for.
I realized when faced with unwanted choices in life, there’s a choice to be made.
The first thing I learned is that grief isn’t fair. It can hit you more than once and can take prisoners.
It’s that time of year again. My screened-in porch gives a new spot for living. This week I washed the furniture, vacuumed all the cushions of winter partials and scrubbed the floor with a solvent that left a squeaky clean feel to bare feet. The ceiling fan ensures a soft constant breeze. Today the humidity is cooperating and is comfortable. The wind passing by comes in ribbons of strength that have tree leaves dancing and shaking, lifting their heads to sound like the waves of the ocean.
The month of May has the distinction of hosting a national holiday, Mother’s Day. The modern celebration was first established in 1908, by Anna Jarvis as a memorial for her mother Anna Reeves Jarvis. She died in 1905 and a day was proclaimed to honor the sacrifices mother’s make for their children. The rest is history. We honor our Mom’s the second Sunday in May.
I find myself a back seat passenger in my car. For the last 10 years, since my husband passed away, I’ve been the driver. I’ve gotten used driving now, out of necessity. Before, George always drove. I loved being the passenger. I could look around, discuss interesting observations, knit, read, and enjoy the easy company of sitting next to my husband for six or seven hours.
I’ve had my fill of holiday made for TV movies. The Hallmark channel can rest until next December, as far as I’m concerned. This month has 18 days left of non-stop Christmas time romance and I can’t take it. I know I could change the channel, there are plenty of offerings on Netflix to keep me glued to the couch. But, something happens to my TV remote and the next thing I know, I’m watching the same holiday Hallmark movie I’ve seen 6 times already. What’s wrong with me?
