love – Begin Again

What Really Matters?

This older me, this wiser me…

looks back before I head into this new year. This older me, this wiser me reflects on one simple question: “What really mattered in my life? What really mattered?

Was it to be popular with others my age (first in school, then in my job, then with other parents, and on and on)? I wanted so much to be popular. Did that really matter?

Was it to have nice things (clothes, cars, houses, furniture)? I longed for nice things, worked hard for nice things, my whole life. Did those things really matter?

I did so much in my life. I always wanted more. I had a career, a marriage, children. I raced from task to task, wanting to be the best for each of them; always longing to be better than I felt I was, feeling less than perfect all the time.

Did it matter? Did it really matter?

This older me, this wiser me looks back and thinks…

What really mattered was the laughter, the love, the hugs, the conversations, the moments of pure joy. None of these things had popularity or fashion or money requirements. They came to me free of charge with only one requirement; I had to give these things back to others.

This older me, this wiser me…

found peace inside, and with that peace came this simple but profound understanding. I realized, as I looked back on my memories that when I laughed, others laughed. When I hugged, I got a hug in return. When I listened to others, others listened to me. When I shared my moments of pure joy, it made others happy and they, in turn, shared their’s. When I gave love, I got loved right back.

So, what really matters in this life?

How about if you STOP! Stop trying to be… and do… and want… and need… something more. STOP! Stop wishing…and hoping… and longing…for something you don’t have. STOP! Stop believing that being popular, having a great job, making lots of money is what matters…because… it doesn’t.

In the end, the older you, the wiser you will look back… at the laughter… the love…the hugs…the conversations…the moments of pure joy.

And, they were all free to give and freely given in return.

So, this older me, this wiser me says…

This is my gift to you for the new year. You don’t have to wait to be old to be wise. Right now, today, you can bring laughter into your day, you can hug someone and listen (really listen) to someone. And then, try sharing a moment of pure joy. See for yourself. See if, by doing these things, you find love.

And, that, my friends, is what really matters…to love!

Never Leaving Home

I left a place that I called “home”
But realized that “home” is not a place at all.
A place is rooms with carpeted floors
A box with windows and paint on the wall.
A “home”, on the other hand,
Is much more than that.
A “home” is pictures, and gifts,
and stories from your past.
A “home” is the collection of treasures
from your children’s younger days.
Those things they wanted kept safe
When they moved away.
A “home” is those stubborn plants
that survive!
They must want to be with me.
They’re still alive!
“Home” is a typewriter,
an old-fashioned pair of shoes,
a harmonica, a magazine rack;
things I could never bear to lose.
“Home is all those things
that I was willing to pack and carry away.
Then, quickly take them out, place them around me.
And then I realize
“Home” never moved away.

I Want To Ask, But I Don’t Want To Know

Journal Entry July 21, 2015  

Part four of how Morning Pages(my journal)helped 
me process through a change.

I want to ask but I don’t want to know or rather, I’m afraid to know the answer. Are they or are they not moving away? I don’t know. To me no news is good news?!? I feel like I’ve been through this before. Gut aches and tears, right there waiting for those words.

Instead, the text yesterday was “Our 12 week appointment went great. All is well. Heartbeat 155. J still think’s it’s a girl. I think it’s a boy.” And I’m happy for them and I want to distance myself from falling in love again.

My day with my grandson was wonderful, as usual. He grew over the weekend. Now he walks to the refrigerator and says “Milk”. We spent the day doing little things; going to the construction site, watching a excavator dig a big hole, then swinging at the swing park.

He sat in the swing so long that I thought he was ready to sleep. So, I encouraged him to stop (“10 more pushes and then we’re going to stop.”) so we could actually get home for his nap. The ride home woke him up enough that we had time for some lunch and the read several books before his nap.

While he napped, I worked on a video of this past weekend. I had uploaded a song hoping it would be allowed. The words were perfect.

Let The River Run

by Bob Seger

I’ve seen the top, I’ve seen the view

Lately, I find, not much is new.

And there’s always a hill out there beyond

Where I could be, where I belong.

Some always take, some have to win.

They leave you with scars, again and again

As they reach for the sky, only to fall,

They never change. I’ve seen them all.

Let the rivers run, like they always do

It’s not up to me. It’s not up to you.

When we reach the end, when our time is done

Let us all be still while the river runs.

Let the rivers run from the great divide.

I’ll stay with you . I’ll be by your side.

When we reach the end, when the words are done,

Let us listen well, while the rivers run.

It’s a beautiful , truthfully peaceful song and I couldn’t use it in the video. Copyright infringement. So it’s written here as the message that came to me as I was trying to enjoy the beauty of the weekend that was so hard.

When my daughter and her family move, I will go sit by that river. I will listen, well, to the messages that flow off the surface of the water.

But for today, I will go back and enjoy that little boy who is growing right before my eyes, and I will “let the river run, as they always do. It’s not up to me. It’s not up to you.