Happy New Year

At midnight I will open my door in an old Irish Tradition to let the old year out and the new year in.

I say good riddance to this year, although the past month has been pretty stellar, the prelude was grim.

Going back to work may have put the final touches on my life.

I caught Covid from a student and in the end had to give up my job, my home and my life as I knew it. 

I may never recover completely. I am truly less than half the person I was before,

But I am not giving up!

Every morning I think over the past twenty four hours looking for some kind of improvement and occasionally I see some. It may not last, but at least it was there for a bit.

Last year my goals were to walk five miles a day and I was succeeding until Dec.25th.

Now my goal is to do the things that are necessary. Vacuum. Dust. Shower. Wash the dishes. Grocery shop, and feed my soul.

I am welcoming the new year with John William's Tokyo concert. Music that stirs the soul.

It seems like a good start.

The best Christmas ever

 

This has been an amazing Christmas. 

Some past years saw me completely alone, or even sick.

This year I was among family and friends three separate, wonderful times.

First the community I live in celebrated in a warm and caring congregation of men and women who have much in common and nothing at all in common.

Next there was a family Christmas with my nephew and niece's family that left me feeling very loved (and very stuffed!)

And on Christmas day, my granddaughter and her fiancee drove all the way down here to spend a lovely seven hours with me before driving home. We video chatted with my daughter and her fiancee and my oldest granddaughter while we all opened gifts and caught up. 

My oldest son sent a charming video from him and my two youngest grandchildren that simply made my day perfect.

And of course, my youngest son never fails to keep in touch nearly every day, all year long.

It was a Christmas season filled with those loving moments that mean more than anything else in the world.

Christmas

 

I have to remember to follow my own advice at Christmas.

Don't do anything unless it is out of love.

And, love means not injuring myself by over doing.

Simplicity is the key word.

Keep things simple.

It is the people and the joy that matter, not the decorations or the food, or the gifts. They may add to it, but if they begin to become an issue? Drop them!

The love that holds people together is the main reason for any holiday that is worth celebrating.

Money

 

Having money is like breathing for the insanely rich. Their frame of reference is so far removed from the world most of us live in that we will never really understand them, or them, us.

The newly rich fall into two categories. Those who need to flaunt their success and those who are mindful of the good their money can do.

As a child who thought she was wealthy I found it easy to spot the nouveau riche. They generally seemed to lose more than they had gained. Too much was the best description I can come up with. They over dressed, over bought, over acted. Having money seemed to have distorted their outlook. It was the last thing I wanted to be.

Today many people have more money than sense. Like the play says, "If you're rich they think you really know." Or perhaps that phrase could be altered to "If you're rich you think you really know," because we are going to reach a point in our society where even money won't buy you what you need to survive.

And the sad truth is, those who got us there will not even understand what they did. Money does not buy emotional intelligence, or really intelligence at all.

Park Glen

 

I like the name Park Glen. It has overtones of something Scottish or Gaelic, two things that have always fascinated me, but this is not in the magical Highlands. It is right here in the heartland of Illinois.

Last night we had our Christmas Party, a beautiful event surrounded by tall decorated trees and lovely evergreens. There were Santas and lovely decorations on tables covered in green tablecloths with decorative runners down the center.

The room was alive with a huge crowd of people dressed to celebrate the holidays together. There were service dogs, wheelchairs, walkers, and people as mobile and dapper as anyone anywhere.

We were served Chicken Cordon Bleu, cheesy corn, and augratin potatoes, along with a salad, and a roll with butter and salad dressings of your choice.

Dessert was a choice of scrumptious Italian creme, red velvet, rich chocolate, or pound cake.

There were prizes, a voluntary gift exchange and joyful moments galore.

And it was all planned and served exclusively by the four lovely people who take care of this building and us twelve months a year, in person, except for the one who was having an emergency appendectomy.

Park Glen is a high rise apartment building with every amenity for people over fifty or with disabilities, but I have never lived in a nicer apartment anywhere else. The staff here is what makes the difference. They care! They know people by name and they really go above and beyond to make this a place to be proud of,

It may not be in the Highlands, but it just might be magical in today's world where so many places are just out to make a buck. 

Fair

 

Life is not fair.

If life were truly fair it would be very different.

People say "fair" but what they mean is their version of fair, what they imagine, or want, or need it to be.

If life were brutally fair we would suffer the consequences of our behavior in unfiltered justice.

Parents who spoil their children thinking that it is a form of love would actually see clearly how those same actions destroyed the lives of their children in the end.

Companies who produce inferior goods would suffer the same problems their customers do.

People who destroyed the environment by producing or using harmful things would be the first to reap the horrors of climate change.

Most of us do not realize how much leeway "fair" gives us. We squeak by doing those things we always do and think that we are the exception.

And we often are, because life is not fair.

Do it with love

 

There are people who do lots of things for lots of people, but they have got it all wrong.

Just getting something done may be a step, but it is not THE step that makes people feel grateful.

I know someone who is always helping people, but she leaves them feeling bad when she is finished because she is simply doing it to get it done. It may be a habit born out of need, but it still doesn't work.

It is not enough to cook a big dinner. The cooking needs to be done with love. Attention to detail is important. Unless the people are simply starving, just throwing lots of food on the table leaves a kind of hollow feeling. Overcooked meat, poorly prepared side dishes, hard as a rock rolls, these are not the signs of a lovingly prepared feast. It would be better to have just a couple of wonderful dishes made with great care.

The same goes for other so-called loving acts. If you are celebrating someone do it right, or just don't do it. If it isn't fun and sweet and, well, loving, it doesn't feel that way to them.

And if you are helping someone move house, do it with care. Just getting things from A to B is not the same as getting them there undropped, unbroken, uncared for.

It is good to help people and good to celebrate people, but if your heart is not in it, don't do it, because in the end no one will feel really good.

Winter Blessings

 

We are about to enter one of my favorite times of the year. Not THE favorite, that is the cold crisp days of Fall, which seem to have eluded us this year, but my second favorite. Winter.

There is nothing more serene or pristine than snow falling on ground ready to sleep peacefully for the next few months.

It is like a wedding born of maturity and wisdom.

We turn away from the steamy, sweaty days of summer and lean in toward the warm cozy fires in our hearths.

Surrounded by the smells of home style cooking, drawn into the flames that speak to us of romance and warmth, we gather with our friends and families to enjoy the simple pleasures of life among loved ones.

Board games, puzzles, books to read and movies to snuggle by, fill our time now that the weather is better viewed through a window darkly. Knowing that the beauty of ice and snow harbors death and discomfort for those who violate the age old customs of hibernating with joy.

There are those who venture out to ski, or sled, or even build creatures of snow, but eventually it is back to the timeless contentment found in mugs of hot cocoa or pot roasts with fresh bread, and the comfort of beds piled high with comforters and quilts.

Preferences

 

I have pretty consistent choices when it comes to things I find beautiful or attractive, but it makes me wonder how these come to be.

People are influenced by everyone and everything around them, but most people appreciate things that are balanced and even. They find them more attractive than their counterparts.

As small children we usually have a favorite color that matches our mom, or dad, or grandma or some other favorite relative or person in our life.

It is when we grow older and show a preference for a particular color or style that interests me. Not teenagers who are often influenced by peer pressure, but adult minds beginning to form definite personalities.

I know some people choose colors and styles that aid in making money. Dark business suits, goth makeup, black clothing, glitzy revealing outfits, it all depends on what you are willing to wear for the dollars. Need, greed, and insecurity can be powerful influencers.

I want to know what makes me love forest green and cerulean blue and one of my sons love deep dark brown. Is it just that they are primary earth colors, or is there something more to it? 

I find it interesting that many people will claim they have a favorite color, but it does not figure prominently in their lives. It isn't in their home, or clothing or art work.

I think people tend to automatically lean towards their favorite colors when they pick something out for no other reason than they love it. That is how I discovered my favorite colors. I looked around me one day and realized that I had collected things in forest green and cerulean blue over many years. Up until then I was still saying I loved red, which was a color I picked out as a child because my grandmother liked red.

Do you know why your favorite color is what it is?