Again, Please
Prompt: Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?
The Polaroid picture above was taken in April, 1979. That’s my husband, Greg, holding our newborn first child, daughter Carly Anne. If I could re-live any year of my life, it would be the year starting that day.
I’d already suffered one miscarriage, so I was very aware what a miracle it was that a child was born whole and healthy. I was overcome with joy and love. Carly was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life.
I was blessed that I could be a stay-at-home mom. Carly and I spent every minute of every day together. I watched her with fascination.
I’d heard other young mothers say they couldn’t wait to go back to work — they were so bored taking care of a baby all day.
Not me.
I remember that year being full of magic. How quickly Carly went from a helpless, squirrelly infant to a cognizant being, growing intellectually and physically by leaps and bounds every day. I remember drilling Greg’s mom about when he achieved significant milestones. When was his first smile? How old was he when he said, “Mama,” or when he rolled over for the first time? She didn’t know. How was that possible? (In her defense, now that I’m a little past her age, I have no recollection whatsoever of when any of my children did those things.)
I think Carly’s first year was the best year of my life. Every day was an adventure. Every day I was full of gratitude. The closest I can get to that wonderful time is when I am together with any of our grandchildren. It’s like deja vu, but better.
Sense of Wonder
Prompt: What does it mean to be a kid at heart?
While raising my children and during my teaching career and now watching my grandchildren, what impresses me most about kids is their curiosity. They are eager to observe and to tinker and figure things out. They are willing to try new things. The world is their laboratory.
They employ their senses in their explorations. For the youngest ones, that means everything goes into their mouths. What does it taste like? How does it feel against my tongue? If I shake it, will it make a noise?
When my littlest granddaughter, Lily, was just one year old, she liked to play in front of a mirror. She watched carefully what happened in the reflection when she placed her ball nearer to the mirror or farther away, to the left or to the right.
When I taught, two days a week I had “morning duty.” That meant I supervised children on the playground before school started for the day. I watched as they invented games and then invited others to join them in play. I watched as they went all out running from one end of the playground to the other. I watched as they collected leaves and rocks and feathers and other treasures.
Some adults (and I confess, I am one of them) lose their sense of wonder as they age. They forget what it’s like to see everything with fresh eyes. They forget how to have fun. They forget to ponder “what if.”
And there are others who haven’t lost their childlike curiosity. They still know how to play and to laugh at absurdities. They’re the ones who are fun to be around. Even children like them.
Loss of Innocence
Today’s prompt: What major historical events do you remember?
The earliest major historical event that I can remember was the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.
My family was Catholic, and I went to Catholic school. We were so proud of Kennedy, the first Catholic president. My father cut JFK’s picture out of Life magazine and framed it. It hung in the hallway for many years.
I was in sixth grade. I remember the principal coming to the door of our classroom and talking to our teacher, Mrs. Stout, in hushed tones, and her very serious reaction. When the principal left, Mrs. Stout told us that President Kennedy had been shot, and he was dead.
Needless to say, this was shocking news. Why would anyone shoot our beloved president? How could such a horrible thing happen?
We were told we would not have any more instruction for the day, and were given the choice of waiting for the school bus or walking home. I chose to walk home. It was five miles, but I walked it frequently enough that it wasn’t a big deal. All the way home I pondered the president’s murder. How was I going to break this news to my parents?
When I got home, my parents were not surprised to see me. I blurted out that someone shot the president, but they already knew. They were following the news coverage on our black-and-white TV.
Two days later, my father was watching television and started shouting, “They shot him! They shot him!”
My mother and I said, “We know, Dad.”
But he said, “They shot Lee Harvey Oswald!” He had witnessed it live, in real time, as the police were leading the handcuffed suspect through the basement of the Dallas Police Headquarters and Jack Ruby stepped forward to shoot him. I couldn’t believe that these two violent acts had taken place in such rapid succession.
This was during the Cold War, a time when the United States and the USSR were very distrustful of each other. At school we had regular air raid drills, practicing the emergency procedure for bombings. (We would either duck under our desks or grab our coats, go into the hallway, sit on the floor and cover ourselves with our coats; or if we had several minutes warning, we would go into the basement of the attached convent, where we would shelter in place until it was safe to come out.) I thought this would be the perfect time for the Communists to attack us, during this transition period when former vice president Lyndon B. Johnson was easing into his new role as president. I felt we were in great danger.
In Favor of Lazy Days
Today’s prompt: Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive?
Yes.
I mean, one or the other, depending on the circumstances.
Generally, on days when I am lazy, and there is something I need to accomplish, I am very aware that I’ve been unproductive, and I feel very guilty about that.
But we weren’t made to work continually. We need the occasional day off to rest, relax, renew. It’s critical for our physical, mental, and spiritual health. Even God rested on the seventh day.
Even when we’re resting, we’re not doing nothing. (Unless we’re so exhausted that we’re asleep–and even that is doing something.) Sometimes we’re doing something fun, like knitting or reading or working on a puzzle. Sometimes we’re processing things that have recently happened, or remembering events of long ago. Sometimes we’re thinking up new ideas. Sometimes we’re just observing what’s going on around us. Sometimes we’re daydreaming. All of those are productive (well, maybe not the daydreaming), and restful as well.
So don’t beat yourself up if you need a break. Take it easy for a while. If there’s something you really have to do, rest a bit, then go do the thing so that worrying doesn’t ruin your day. Often, even a short break will give you enough energy to power through.
In the Meme Time
Ponder these thoughts.
You can change your life for the better.
Feel free to share these on your social media.
In the Meme Time
Some positive, encouraging, inspirational memes.
Feel free to use them for your social media posts.
How’s your day going?
Wishing you all the best.
Allison Boley
Carol Boley
dgood648
Joy
Andrea R Huelsenbeck
Betty Mason Arthurs
Linda Carlblom
Peggy Levesque
tuesdayschildren100
Judy Robertson
Doing Life Together 