tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64107635104464108352024-03-21T14:52:38.553-07:00Coffee with KathyKathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-55290740685500279532024-01-23T09:01:00.000-08:002024-01-23T09:05:26.626-08:00Embracing the Chaos<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5F9DxYMm0YLrtLrhL1rfG8AlYVCRY3cBk7QMiaYXtsrkCRqHlZeMJSt31IatbnwYnEDFTI5XIPb1WUl-MgrohdPkff70CywtSXA6msMyWWt1JJzh-_Eu4BEjLTFsU9AOZEvjmWdXB7T8Fr7nY1YgQIuYl6HvVi42pR7rWVmS8nhieD4_slfscH4oAL1d/s403/Heart%20in%20Snow.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="403" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5F9DxYMm0YLrtLrhL1rfG8AlYVCRY3cBk7QMiaYXtsrkCRqHlZeMJSt31IatbnwYnEDFTI5XIPb1WUl-MgrohdPkff70CywtSXA6msMyWWt1JJzh-_Eu4BEjLTFsU9AOZEvjmWdXB7T8Fr7nY1YgQIuYl6HvVi42pR7rWVmS8nhieD4_slfscH4oAL1d/w200-h199/Heart%20in%20Snow.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Many of us traveled home for the holidays. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Now that we’re collectively back in our little comfort
zones, taking our familiar walks and stirring our morning coffee, the unknowns
of 2024 have harbored some odd, niggling thoughts from the old year.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcn17WEOc1O-nOHv6390-TP7LsR54u4MFz9hC6R2lNL6pLhwxlISGqfONae4Kf38LLwIR74ShsR4skzTeqW1t3IIE9BbEw0jvJRUXKdtY0W7VfmVdPLTs8EEmef7_9ERkpCV5w0BJo_NwQ7NV4isYJJiUrBLb1qiNoLrPnT4TXsQR8twg6YsI8BtcsqL9/s2048/Coffee.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcn17WEOc1O-nOHv6390-TP7LsR54u4MFz9hC6R2lNL6pLhwxlISGqfONae4Kf38LLwIR74ShsR4skzTeqW1t3IIE9BbEw0jvJRUXKdtY0W7VfmVdPLTs8EEmef7_9ERkpCV5w0BJo_NwQ7NV4isYJJiUrBLb1qiNoLrPnT4TXsQR8twg6YsI8BtcsqL9/w133-h200/Coffee.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Constantia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">January, with its clean slate and championed New
Beginnings, still carries echoes of our past.</span></span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">If you traveled home – whether in real time or in your
heart’s memory, there is much to ponder.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Home.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">“Home” is a siren song, a magnetic pull to a place that
launched us out; gave us life skills; anchored our hearts and tethered our
memories.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">To come home, looks different for each of us – yet there is
a blending of shared experiences. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">To come home is to find a place at the table
with …<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Skeptics and believers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Scholars and shepherds<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Ragamuffins and the
self-righteous<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">The misunderstood, the
marginalized <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">The frightened and the furious<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">The jaded and the curious<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Those displaced by divorce or
divided by death<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">The addicted and ashamed <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">The wounded and the healing<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Those stuck inside the
In-Betweens<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">And there in the distance beyond the Not-Knowing, await the
shadowy mysteries of a New Year.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Just how do we embrace this yo-yo mix of
emotions?<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">How, I wonder, do we reconcile the co-existing of joy and
sorrow? The lingering light and the shadowy darkness? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">I say, let’s embrace it all.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">All of it.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">A new year is a mingling, a sweet and salty flavor of …<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Light and darkness<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Warmth and chill<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Pleasant and bitter <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Calm and chaos<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Anger and forgiveness<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Anticipatory and … stuck.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Why not cling tightly to it all, in one fierce group hug?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">The celebrations <i>and</i> the mourning. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">After all, grace comes in when we let our expectations go.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">We all carry a story of <u>grief-changing-everything.</u> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">My story, though now (thankfully) restored, holds sacred
space for a time when the kids didn’t want to come home.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">And they didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">It was Christmas. The first Christmas after that Shattering
August Day when their dad died.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Before Time heals, Grief
intensifies: my daughters barely recognized me as a solo parent. I was still
Mom, but I was <i>Mom Without Dad. <o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">It must have been just too
weird for them. They’d lost their dad and they’d also lost half of me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">For the girls, to be absent
from the holiday table, was not so much that they were rebellious. It was a lot
more like they were navigating their way through pain. Each of their paths was
different and each of their journeys pulled them further and further from me –
a desperate flight from the sense of family we all so keenly needed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">It wasn’t just one bereft
season – the longer we were at an impasse, the wider and deeper and more
painful the gap became. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">It would be years before we
would find ourselves around a common table again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">There was likely that secret
promise hard-wired within my children: “Mom will always be there for us. We can
return home when we are ready.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">And they did. Eventually, they
did.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Though reconfigured with an
empty chair and a heartful of memories, we are a family again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Maybe this brokenness, this
disconnect, this empty chair – will always be with us. Not prominently, not
painfully, but quietly woven into the joy as a reminder that we are made for
more than this. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">In your own flight from others
who still need you, please pause. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">In your haste to get past the
hurt, look up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Look around.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Those people at the office?
Your friend tribe? Your stand-in-the-gap families?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Let them center you.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Allow the holy hush of a quiet
evening to encircle you. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Sit leaning slightly forward <i>into mercy.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Embrace the chaos.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Let go of the expectations.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">After all, grace comes in when we let our
expectations go.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">In the grit and the dirt of
living, we have hope.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">We have fresh, earth-covering
snowfalls.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">We have …<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">New
beginnings<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Interior
reset buttons <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">The
power of forgiveness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: Constantia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Do you have an empty chair and
a heartful of memories?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Sit quietly with that discord, giving it too, a place of honor.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Are you sorting through the friction,
the disagreements inside your own family?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">I invite you to <i>lean in</i>
and be astonished when a melody emerges.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">You will sing new songs; some
will be a little off key.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Sing anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 637.65pt;"><span style="font-family: "Constantia",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 106%;">Your heart can hold it all.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBWs__K9AMHePEugvygLd1fXYuTIVk64ydGRUinvaayW2ggp0rKaukSesD4rdR_XBlsKq47gPIyvsofrzVcP0iFQvbxP5Z6uXVvPzVSUoAiFD7UoDpzsp4n39ODVGmOdy4zEFasek0e9brjjvhs2AFSZv17ANYj8z8terHzMRHUPU-WeSSRP6vEYSr-s9/s254/Heart%20and%20Girl%20at%20Shore.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="254" data-original-width="199" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBWs__K9AMHePEugvygLd1fXYuTIVk64ydGRUinvaayW2ggp0rKaukSesD4rdR_XBlsKq47gPIyvsofrzVcP0iFQvbxP5Z6uXVvPzVSUoAiFD7UoDpzsp4n39ODVGmOdy4zEFasek0e9brjjvhs2AFSZv17ANYj8z8terHzMRHUPU-WeSSRP6vEYSr-s9/s1600/Heart%20and%20Girl%20at%20Shore.jpg" width="199" /></a></div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>This blog is also published in the January 2024 edition of Silver Magazine.<p></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-44073389932336326662023-10-22T10:13:00.000-07:002023-10-22T10:13:15.521-07:00LATHER, RINSE, REPEAT<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ7-S7mfzPDziXkQxkipSA04Luxu_d7OLAuXCavuJZVTX2Bl2cRauWBtxTY7JhIceOp4NrN47O4xxa7jB15-XU-dti3l4_G1W60W0AmNTh16ARkngD5sCCz2239Zb3dpi-uHxHXjVPBocoZm1K-AA-V10AgZyDSyCGG9YYO6cuqyY5NoBj8EXdG1IQPIhY/s1600/LATHER%20RINSE%20REPEAT%20Shampoo%20Bottle.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1084" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ7-S7mfzPDziXkQxkipSA04Luxu_d7OLAuXCavuJZVTX2Bl2cRauWBtxTY7JhIceOp4NrN47O4xxa7jB15-XU-dti3l4_G1W60W0AmNTh16ARkngD5sCCz2239Zb3dpi-uHxHXjVPBocoZm1K-AA-V10AgZyDSyCGG9YYO6cuqyY5NoBj8EXdG1IQPIhY/w130-h192/LATHER%20RINSE%20REPEAT%20Shampoo%20Bottle.jpeg" width="130" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><br />It used
to be printed on every shampoo bottle: “Lather, Rinse, Repeat”. I can remember
being 14 and staying at my grandmother’s house. As a rule-follower, I did what
the label said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">“You
don’t need to shampoo your hair twice!” she would say, irritation in her voice.
“Once is plenty; we don’t need to be wasting water.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">In that
scenario and that era, repetition was considered lavish, extra, over-the-top. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Unnecessary
– at least in the realm of shampoo use.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">There
are situations, though, that call for a healthy dose of repetition. Personally,
I’m a fan of repeated family stories. If not for generations of storytelling, I’d
never know Grandma once nailed a snake to the floor, or that my great uncle
rescued a prized German violin from a neighbor’s attic (later, the violin would
become mine).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-k6BTTB40kp4SVW1EAxCOMhZAf9cA3wLGjJtket5fa7uaYHo_HQ0ZWEGN3VSJtypGSEmeG2cr1-YrGAOVXf9Tt8iSr_jeg56c4146yT1kYJA31vC1fT6U-bG-pWtBZjBMb3Rw8HzfYlIygnvY4EbZzCW2jEbCX-6yd-ww4Hp4jEJBXptVIfwW3P3kAFu/s650/violin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="650" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-k6BTTB40kp4SVW1EAxCOMhZAf9cA3wLGjJtket5fa7uaYHo_HQ0ZWEGN3VSJtypGSEmeG2cr1-YrGAOVXf9Tt8iSr_jeg56c4146yT1kYJA31vC1fT6U-bG-pWtBZjBMb3Rw8HzfYlIygnvY4EbZzCW2jEbCX-6yd-ww4Hp4jEJBXptVIfwW3P3kAFu/s320/violin.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><b><i>If not for storytelling, I'd never know Grandma once nailed a snake to the floor, or that my great uncle rescued a prized violin from the neighbor's attic.</i></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Stories
grow richer and more textured with every telling. As the decades roll out, stories
become the mainstay of our conversations. As we age, our heritage gets woven
into our DNA, adding color and depth to the family tree.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Stories
matter.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Telling
them over again, should never be squelched.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">And yet,
I have felt a growing impatience with repetition. Have you noticed this too –
this annoyance with our beloved narratives?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><i>“You
already told me that.”</i> It’s a phrase that’s been hurled in my direction, more
than once. It absolutely shuts me down. Why, I wonder, is only fresh news
relevant? Yesterday’s news matters too, if you ask me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">But
here’s the thing – nobody’s asking. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">I can
remember begging my parents to tell stories I already knew by heart. There’s
nothing like hearing it over again, anticipating the laughter, hearing familiar
details and welcoming them like old friends.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Something’s
changed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">We even
preempt our stories with <i>“Stop me if I’ve told this before…” </i>as a kind of
apology. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Repetition
is, in fact, a healthy way of processing information. It’s a way to make sense
of our messy, complex lives. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Restating
an event is like holding it up to the light, having a second look, finding
clues. Doing this <i>out loud</i> is good for the soul.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">And for
every story retold you need a good listener.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">To
listen is to hold space for that human. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">To
listen is to show simple respect for their point of view.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">To
listen is to connect in a way that’s off-the-text, away from the screen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">To actually
lean into a conversation is to feel the organic flow of the voice in all its
expressions. It’s like your favorite song – and who doesn’t want to hear that
one again and again??<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJ7b_gNAbDOyzVoJbbuclWkA-w3MINeg47AJzPUiwfM6IWHU3WKdIgLvqiiLdXbMFDFzVJtSaUg3CzN-nYjCCUr8EqdvVNZC-dlmVKU9mykV98j1iZ5dMpcj7EyXqP60nMR4QRkY1-chw10CW3WpCvNWCkl9QLY6B_oIx0XgGmYdWoJORrftoCLJ9Ujfn/s860/Treble%20Clef%20Artistic%20Pink.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="860" data-original-width="820" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJ7b_gNAbDOyzVoJbbuclWkA-w3MINeg47AJzPUiwfM6IWHU3WKdIgLvqiiLdXbMFDFzVJtSaUg3CzN-nYjCCUr8EqdvVNZC-dlmVKU9mykV98j1iZ5dMpcj7EyXqP60nMR4QRkY1-chw10CW3WpCvNWCkl9QLY6B_oIx0XgGmYdWoJORrftoCLJ9Ujfn/s320/Treble%20Clef%20Artistic%20Pink.png" width="305" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Let’s
get a bit more specific here: Older people have some things to process and it’s
not nice to overlook us as irrelevant or passe. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">During
one of my jobs as an activity assistant, I sat with residents in a nursing
home, listening to their stories. This one dear lady got right to the heart of
the matter. She very eloquently said that she had lived several decades and
acquired lots of wisdom. With a deep sigh, she confided, “I finally have some
wise things to share, but nobody wants to listen.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">I find this
profoundly sad and painfully true, now that I’m retired and losing traction in what’s
trending and who’s who in the world of social influencers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Truth
is, we are blessed with our own influencers inside our own circles of
navigation, every day. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><b><i>Truth is, we are blessed with our own influencers inside our own circles of navigation, every day.</i></b></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRwmCHvHaug631cZ3RPkdeZ8m86mUl-dhvD2N43NglJT2uYZmJRrXL6Ekj1qHnunPhPUOQkWKBWxKxGcQ5EUO-xH7Og0-nei2uarJ13jeD_LVn4a0_xR6ylOMmstuzScIMhJOJ5bRcxfN2yxWtndG4ilZ3KxyrQwLaiR_yVb76_3BcdcBIcvLXU0vkxmnY/s600/Lady%20on%20Bicycle%20Old%20Time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="475" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRwmCHvHaug631cZ3RPkdeZ8m86mUl-dhvD2N43NglJT2uYZmJRrXL6Ekj1qHnunPhPUOQkWKBWxKxGcQ5EUO-xH7Og0-nei2uarJ13jeD_LVn4a0_xR6ylOMmstuzScIMhJOJ5bRcxfN2yxWtndG4ilZ3KxyrQwLaiR_yVb76_3BcdcBIcvLXU0vkxmnY/s320/Lady%20on%20Bicycle%20Old%20Time.jpg" width="253" /></a></i></b></span></div><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Why not
lean in, linger, and listen? Honor each other’s tendency to repeat, be willing
to hear it again and again. Take joy in the familiar cadence of the myths, the
legends, the mundane and the splendid. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">It all
bears repeating. It all craves an ear to hear, a heart to listen and a voice to
echo back, “Me too!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Quit
holding your affirmations with tight fists – open your hands and let them fall like
confetti on needy shoulders. Then, be prepared to laugh or cry with the joy of
sharing a story on repeat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Addendum:<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Manis
With Grannies -- <o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">There’s
a young visionary in Warren who goes around giving manicures to
women-of-a-certain-age and inviting them to tell their stories. Her name is
Tiffany Marino, and her broadcast is a gift to us all. Listen to <u>Manis with
Grannies</u> wherever you get your podcasts. You can also find her on Facebook
by searching for “Manis with Grannies” or by visiting her website, maniswithgrannies.com.
If you know a woman 70 or older with an arsenal of stories to share, be sure to
get in touch with Tiffany – she’s always looking for the next conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Kathy
Joy is a collector of rare, splendid moments. She loves sharing these
discoveries with her readers, and welcomes your feedback via email at </span></i><u><i><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">SpeakWonder@aol.com</span></i><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></u></span></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-12613626254591348612023-07-20T23:49:00.003-07:002023-07-21T00:01:19.008-07:00She Hits the Ground Running<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">I catch the music of tires on pavement, just outside my front door. A
little squeal of delight drifts out into the morning; the car door is opened
and a beautiful toddler is lifted from her car seat.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">My day is about to begin; I’m in charge of a two-year-old
named Matilda June. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">She is my “Tilly” and I am her “Oma”. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">She hits the ground running, this tiny force of nature.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">“Oma’s House!” she calls out, filling my grandmother’s heart with
unfathomable joy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Matilda is my very first grandchild, and she has unlocked a space in my
life that’s alive with Possibility and new purpose.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPiHHQI9PKeV7VzhyzquBvDgTQdR_0GuquxWhDv3q--TtmB3526aoIaToxNIj-v_OCsEBjKEw5qvUFy_ywEyJGJU7lfCv6oFEpQAwrabXj1qBhw1dVM1Mu4pxgWqFx3HSd2PCQOF6QcH_Whej8a-a5S8y1BJeZ9V-kJyXwhjdMZcFDSygx9CUkYiQRmz_4/s4032/Tilly%20DANDELION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPiHHQI9PKeV7VzhyzquBvDgTQdR_0GuquxWhDv3q--TtmB3526aoIaToxNIj-v_OCsEBjKEw5qvUFy_ywEyJGJU7lfCv6oFEpQAwrabXj1qBhw1dVM1Mu4pxgWqFx3HSd2PCQOF6QcH_Whej8a-a5S8y1BJeZ9V-kJyXwhjdMZcFDSygx9CUkYiQRmz_4/s320/Tilly%20DANDELION.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m loving everything about grandparenting: watching her learn and
discover; seeing my daughter step into her Mothering Skills; the stirred-up
memories from when I was a young mom – lullabies returning and the mingled
smells of crayons, bubble bath and play dough.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">I embrace it all, even welcoming the realities of diaper changes,
scraped knees, tantrums and teething.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">I’ve entered a portal into the-unknown-yet-familiar. There’s no
turning back for me. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><i>I’m all in.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">This rite of passage – this mysterious journey into grandparenting
--<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>should be wholly available to All
Moms of a Certain Age.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">But, sadly, it isn’t. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">There are grandmothers and grandfathers who are denied access to
their grandchildren. For various heartbreaking reasons.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Divorce. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Family rifts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Geographical distance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Strategic rejection.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Ambiguous reasons.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Substance abuse.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Loss.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Chronic health issues.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Irreconcilable differences in parenting styles.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Financial hardship.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">The anguish of this came knocking one day in the grocery
store on an otherwise normal Tuesday afternoon.</span></i></b><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">I was in the checkout line, loading my items onto the counter, when I
overheard the conversation in front of me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Two women exchanging pleasantries – the store clerk and the customer,
doing what we women do so naturally: conversing like old friends. They were
talking about popsicles, and the store clerk mentioned her granddaughter’s
passion for ice cream treats.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Of course, I had to chime in. (As we women do). I offered up how much
I love being an “Oma”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">“Do you have grands?” I asked the customer, a tall woman, regal in
her silver-gray ponytail, her sundress, her manicured toes. I remember she
absolutely exuded warmth and nurture. In my naivete, I simply assumed she had
grandkids.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">She looked confused at my question, so I repeated it. “Do you have grands?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">That’s when her face clouded over with something like despair and
envy mixed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">“I do have grandkids,” she said, “and I used to know them.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">She paused.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">“But I don’t know them anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">The world stopped for a moment. The hum and bustle of the store
became muted as I struggled to understand her dilemma.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">“I used to know them.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">She had grandchildren but she couldn’t be with them. How awful is
that? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">This dear lady explained her son, the father of her grandchildren,
was now divorced and the mother wanted absolutely nothing to do with the
extended family; therefore, the children had been cut off from family members
they once knew and loved.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">I know this kind of thing can happen, but it’s kind of a vague blip
on my radar. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Now, here stood a pain-filled human right in front of me, a lovely
person paying for her groceries and stepping out into the summer day carrying a
certain kind of pain. The pain of severance. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">The ache of empty air where once
there was laughter.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">The echo of bedtime stories and birthday parties, shadows
of memories becoming thick like scar tissue.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Before she left, she turned around and gave me a sad smile. “I’m
happy for you, really. Please, enjoy your granddaughter. Because, well … you
just never know.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">You just never know.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">If you are reading this and you are alienated from your grandchildren,
I am deeply, truly sorry. Whatever the reasons, you have been denied the
affection of Littles, the loyalty of teenagers, the thrill of seeing young
adults launch out into the world. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">You are suffering and please know your unseen wounds are visible to
Elder Law.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">“Grandparent Alienation is a type of elder abuse that
occurs when grandparents are unreasonably denied meaningful opportunities to
have a relationship and spend time with their grandchildren.” </span></b><a href="https://www.aging.pa.gov/"><b><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">https://www.aging.pa.gov/</span></b></a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">If you are reading this and you – like me – are abundantly blessed
with full access to your offspring’s offspring … revel in that. Drink in ALL
the beauty of your situation and be keenly aware of your good fortune.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Tilly June keeps me on my toes. She has only one speed: fast-forward.
Together, we go on walks in the woods, inspecting every bug and flower. She
loves dandelions. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">We make frozen treats and slurp them on the patio, dripping and
giggling to our heart’s content.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">Her parents invite me on treks to the library, the zoo, the park and the
pet store.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s all amazing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">And I know it. Every single moment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;">###<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQqRKM2xejorW5MOyYEZcLP4wqNo_5KzBOdRmnGIy1kR6mqO82rE4ewebZQbv2O_sNitInaevtQRhglIMv60Hzxu4vWnQIJd8T7934JzvhZ9ZkvaXa6RU-jSgylMqVnB-Oy2Gv33lMqua-ywYvT42h76V3mREhaz7ykRznsEWizeUYydDifkbRr1kmn3yr/s261/Boy%20Holding%20Balloon%20B&W.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="261" data-original-width="261" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQqRKM2xejorW5MOyYEZcLP4wqNo_5KzBOdRmnGIy1kR6mqO82rE4ewebZQbv2O_sNitInaevtQRhglIMv60Hzxu4vWnQIJd8T7934JzvhZ9ZkvaXa6RU-jSgylMqVnB-Oy2Gv33lMqua-ywYvT42h76V3mREhaz7ykRznsEWizeUYydDifkbRr1kmn3yr/s1600/Boy%20Holding%20Balloon%20B&W.jpeg" width="261" /></b></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><br /></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><i><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">A little checklist for the Abundantly Blessed:</span></u><o:p></o:p></b></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: courier;"><i><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">ü<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> **</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Maintain empathy
for those missing their grands. Don’t automatically assume other grandparents
have it as good as you do.</span></b></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: courier;"><i><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">ü<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">**</span>Be aware there may be legitimate reasons,
including the physical safety and emotional welfare of the child, for denial.</span></b></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: courier;"><i><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">ü<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">**</span>Be available to stand in the gap for kids who
need a grandparent-figure to influence their young lives. You just may be the
answer to somebody’s prayers.</span></b></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: courier;"><i><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">ü<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> **</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Remain locked
and loaded, fully engaged in your joy of being a grandparent.</span></b></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: courier;"><i><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">ü<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> **</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Happily maintain
your bragging rights. You’ve earned them.</span></b></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: courier;"><i><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">ü<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> **</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Here’s a great resource when you’re thinking up stuff to do
with your grands: Type "Macaroni KID" in your search bar. <u>Macaroni KID</u> is a free weekly online newsletter giving you all the kid and family friendly events in your community.</span></b></i></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini;"><span style="font-size: 29.3333px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Cavolini; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: 22pt; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJNhy7fuRUYxKoO8rr1v7Bo6yGQtBCiTfhJG_g9Waqqntsauk7T50S6YbxA83G8TG4YetT76oGk2F0GhMu76TPlhl8d011kIQH_XyPrfbHMsAiUKBms4WjEzsUURo1EJcA60AylP0Tidfmt7SzuuP7y7qqarzRVVioKqldTSbNvpG4dEd-MVFFEoz_DzD/s1865/TILLY%20JUNE%20Coloring.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1865" data-original-width="1146" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJNhy7fuRUYxKoO8rr1v7Bo6yGQtBCiTfhJG_g9Waqqntsauk7T50S6YbxA83G8TG4YetT76oGk2F0GhMu76TPlhl8d011kIQH_XyPrfbHMsAiUKBms4WjEzsUURo1EJcA60AylP0Tidfmt7SzuuP7y7qqarzRVVioKqldTSbNvpG4dEd-MVFFEoz_DzD/s320/TILLY%20JUNE%20Coloring.jpg" width="197" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>TILLY JUNE </b><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Cavolini; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">This blog supports </span></span><a href="https://www.capturemebooks.com/breath-of-joy"><span style="font-size: large;">Breath of Joy! (capturemebooks.com)</span></a><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Cavolini; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast"><b><u><span style="font-family: Cavolini; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p><br /><p></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-27452205877082369022023-01-23T11:51:00.001-08:002023-01-23T12:23:21.918-08:00WIDOWS BEHAVING BADLY<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Since
the sudden loss of my husband in 2008, I have surrounded myself with likeminded
women; tribal comrades who “get me” with a nod or a knowing look. I find this
comforting.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">There
are Facebook groups for widows and Twitter feeds about navigating life in the
absence of a soulmate. I find these helpful.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">A common
thread is the tendency for others to <i>avoid us</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">This
hurts. We feel alienated. We become less willing to tell you how it really is.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">“Once
you’re back to normal,” one person cautioned me, “things will fall back into
sync”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Um.
What?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">What
does “normal” even look like?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">FACT:</span></u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"> There is no returning to normal.
Death is a watershed moment. A seismic shift into Bewilderment. It’s not a
“journey” either; it’s a hardscrabble slog through uncharted territory.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><i>Death is a watershed moment.</i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><i>A seismic shift into Bewilderment.</i></b></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Within
days of Roger's funeral, I was told I needed to get right back to work. Being a
chronic people pleaser, I did what I was told, and regretted returning too
soon. I was emotionally catatonic, unable to make the smallest decisions.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Complete
strangers would approach me with something I call “comparison stories” and
these were not helpful.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Such as: “You should be grateful your husband’s heart
attack was fatal; my husband is hanging on by a thread and I never know when
his heart might fail…<i>can you imagine what THAT is like?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Um, no.
I can’t. But thanks, anyway, for holding space for my pain <i>(this sentiment
delivered internally, with dripping sarcasm).</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">But then
there was this one friend who materialized like a gift on my back porch. She
stood at the threshold and prayed for a buyer - - just the right family to come
up the hill and occupy this sprawling acreage with woods and a pond and a barn.
A 100-year-old homestead holding laughter in the walls.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">I was
blown away by her kindness; her refraining from advice and supplying only
affirmations. Prayers. Quiet, practical <i>support.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">It’s
probably true I’m an unruly widow, a rogue variation of who you may think I
should be. Sometimes I can be impulsive, often ornery, and emotionally wobbly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Trouble
is, I have no desire to contort myself into another’s definition of “widow”.
The business of loss and grief is a messy one. In the end, the shattered pieces
look more like a mosaic, less like a well-ordered timeline of “stages”.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnEjstFTXuu3Uwoc3xDfZw6fBe-9kbLzkVId_V55f45N-9flrX9xbHGaKCTmvwy1xbzXY_5U1wOc32AIb0-_OQLrBmY8tP8laXXUY5F11QveI49yPX9WRrgzwlrya7iv6KD4wQnkdB2DWPKvz9Q666j43RYKqRY4mF3OoEvlxQMb_p4hI2qalbK2FUqw/s640/Grief%20Mosaic%20III.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnEjstFTXuu3Uwoc3xDfZw6fBe-9kbLzkVId_V55f45N-9flrX9xbHGaKCTmvwy1xbzXY_5U1wOc32AIb0-_OQLrBmY8tP8laXXUY5F11QveI49yPX9WRrgzwlrya7iv6KD4wQnkdB2DWPKvz9Q666j43RYKqRY4mF3OoEvlxQMb_p4hI2qalbK2FUqw/s320/Grief%20Mosaic%20III.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Lobster; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>A Grief Mosaic</b></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Everybody’s
different. Loss is deeply personal to each individual. Some of us will appear
crushed, some brave, some stoic. We put on our game faces and go out into the
world. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">One day
at a time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">We’re
not asking you to <i>understand </i>us; we’re simply wanting you to walk
alongside us on the confused, zig-zaggy pathway of regrouping. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Also,
bring snacks please.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">What
widows really <i>want</i>, is for you to hold our stories. Listen to our
ramblings, even when we make no sense.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Listen –
not to fix – but to support. Without judgement.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Please
do not hold us to a tidy grief timeline. Grief is not linear. Grief is
explosive and unpredictable, splintering us and shattering our once-imagined
futures.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Grief,
kindly, is also an anthem of Resilience. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_FIFjJFCwj53PIjIX3cNm3RZDIJFyBrWXZpzfETEQeY7KTevcDsz_UZhx8C1sWUn9YlEKPJKJ_BFHI3dlDCEoVD1FPn5FtMIPIMyKlqXTZPj6svslLpIa8SQMNqe-4QYELhbsAaoLRL9A2v42tjA_JJA_ZMDEAa1RY9sEDolKKZYgW3hGXRVF0FEG2A/s960/Grief%20Remembrance%20Paper%20Art.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_FIFjJFCwj53PIjIX3cNm3RZDIJFyBrWXZpzfETEQeY7KTevcDsz_UZhx8C1sWUn9YlEKPJKJ_BFHI3dlDCEoVD1FPn5FtMIPIMyKlqXTZPj6svslLpIa8SQMNqe-4QYELhbsAaoLRL9A2v42tjA_JJA_ZMDEAa1RY9sEDolKKZYgW3hGXRVF0FEG2A/s320/Grief%20Remembrance%20Paper%20Art.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">A soft
patchwork quilt of memories.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Maybe,
at the end of the day, we are not “widows behaving badly”, but human beings carrying
painful stories. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Can you cut us some slack? Would you simply sit with us and bear
witness to our pain? Allow us, please, to be messy. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Confused. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Random. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Inconsistent.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">A fellow
sojourner once said to me, “I just wish I could spill my stories on the floor
and then have another person pick up the pieces, hold them to the light, and
see the beauty in my memories. That’s all I really want.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjblckuCZGifvdDkAtDdSFaf-GM6eTEDBY9GT6y_DUcw4aXRDb9jXSfmglM55RoCmnqAfYLcgRts9Nw0DwwapB3r4uchFBrw0-uUZ9ANGbRE_rk7T1f9rN7xpjpMorrRUChouXThPObnuJWKq2ZduuWTSLYRHGxlazt3XcDL91JDIePC9X6_7DQsFlOOw/s711/Window%20Night%20Silhouette.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="711" data-original-width="474" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjblckuCZGifvdDkAtDdSFaf-GM6eTEDBY9GT6y_DUcw4aXRDb9jXSfmglM55RoCmnqAfYLcgRts9Nw0DwwapB3r4uchFBrw0-uUZ9ANGbRE_rk7T1f9rN7xpjpMorrRUChouXThPObnuJWKq2ZduuWTSLYRHGxlazt3XcDL91JDIePC9X6_7DQsFlOOw/s320/Window%20Night%20Silhouette.jpeg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">She’s
right. A grieving person needs you to hold space for them. Not to fix, not to
advise, and especially not to correct. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Simply
to listen. And maybe bring snacks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">The
years have loosened my grip on expectations. I’m less apt to be offended by random
comments; rather, I have deeper empathy for that person’s story. Because “death”
manifests itself in many ways: loss of a job, divorce, financial hardship,
wayward children, and detoured dreams. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">My gaze
has softened into pastels of acceptance. The view from here is manageable, even
joy filled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">Pardon
me if I sometimes behave badly. This, too, is part of being a widow. You cut me
some slack; I’ll float you some grace. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">We’ve
got this.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 6.75pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: thin-thick-thin-medium-gap windowtext 6.75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: thin-thick-thin-medium-gap windowtext 6.75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";">And if you find yourself wandering the colorless
landscape that has no spouse, no hand to hold, no snacks to share … please know
I will walk beside you. In solidarity. In a quiet <i>knowing, </i>a thundering
empathy.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: thin-thick-thin-medium-gap windowtext 6.75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif; font-size: 18pt;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 18pt; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOnh-pPzrySYoIIphvz9sdi8eK1U1-sMKSeydHWuwxnVrVZkMU-s8gXlZ4aH8a_igtQk1lfdrGZXie-_Kb8wpgq0HycMam5q_n93QM3L_huyfqUV9WzdbUmnLe66q0zvchIYIw5uZ2Rq29sBvIKKZZR4abKH45k7qFwbOsqsTRCztCEfw3Yl-sDEy-w/s403/Heart%20in%20Snow.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="403" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOnh-pPzrySYoIIphvz9sdi8eK1U1-sMKSeydHWuwxnVrVZkMU-s8gXlZ4aH8a_igtQk1lfdrGZXie-_Kb8wpgq0HycMam5q_n93QM3L_huyfqUV9WzdbUmnLe66q0zvchIYIw5uZ2Rq29sBvIKKZZR4abKH45k7qFwbOsqsTRCztCEfw3Yl-sDEy-w/s320/Heart%20in%20Snow.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 18pt; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">As seen in SILVER, a magazine for seniors in Western New York and Northwestern Pennsylvania</span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Published January 2023</span></p></blockquote><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvmldZNKxuVmUZwB58NMT7gQGl15tavKM95-Ie5ixBL_MkINdNC7vsl98Cd4cUhf2gx3W7Tj5yARvbxtoQNFG4i6JkRSg9b4n8RDxTlu2Mso4I9iy_yBESMa9EsajGANTFrqe3I3gaiOthlQikQ5RRQGw-mPJGpm3k1IFwVDTSU0-4_6_N1AdpuSW2A/s4032/Silver%20Magazine%20January%202023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvmldZNKxuVmUZwB58NMT7gQGl15tavKM95-Ie5ixBL_MkINdNC7vsl98Cd4cUhf2gx3W7Tj5yARvbxtoQNFG4i6JkRSg9b4n8RDxTlu2Mso4I9iy_yBESMa9EsajGANTFrqe3I3gaiOthlQikQ5RRQGw-mPJGpm3k1IFwVDTSU0-4_6_N1AdpuSW2A/s320/Silver%20Magazine%20January%202023.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 18pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Dreaming Outloud Pro";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-65388495401122686822022-12-02T10:52:00.004-08:002022-12-02T10:56:46.892-08:00The Field Behind the Plow<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAQpCEriX2_2Md7MYM5VHu3rW6Ry5kZCJTCtQ6UYwlodQhPj7j0Sx1746d2W7A2sZ9bAhzPqyxX7eNkFN_TBXQa8LXGMlQXRVQlJq5Jeqh47GsOXli4ginfnwVWkA342qJxgwBmx8xh_-6Go72lhfAcwl61-GfzX1k85l2JCVUnFfblobM3XEA4hG2w/s1707/Farm%20Tractor%20by%20Lynn%20Marie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1707" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAQpCEriX2_2Md7MYM5VHu3rW6Ry5kZCJTCtQ6UYwlodQhPj7j0Sx1746d2W7A2sZ9bAhzPqyxX7eNkFN_TBXQa8LXGMlQXRVQlJq5Jeqh47GsOXli4ginfnwVWkA342qJxgwBmx8xh_-6Go72lhfAcwl61-GfzX1k85l2JCVUnFfblobM3XEA4hG2w/w320-h196/Farm%20Tractor%20by%20Lynn%20Marie.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Photo by Lynn Gurdak</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">A heritage of rolling
hills and farmland is a rich legacy; if you’re blessed enough to have lived
among salt of the earth people in rural places, then you are blessed enough.</span><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In many regions across our great land, one can claim “farmer” identity without having tossed a single
bale of hay; we are farmers by proxy – identifying with the fields of dry
cornstalks adorning the roadways; the smell of burning leaves is in our DNA. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">If you <i>have</i>
thrown a bale into the loft, or if you have witnessed a sunset while atop a rumbling
tractor seat, then you are stitched into the very fabric of rural life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Like the harvested
fields, we are preparing for a season of rest and quiet; a hushed interval of
waiting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;">Recently I discovered
the legacy of singer, Stan Rogers, a prominent voice of Canadian folk music. </span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; line-height: 107%;">Rogers was noted for
his rich </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baritone" title="Baritone"><span style="background: white; color: #0645ad; line-height: 107%;">baritone</span></a><span style="background: white; color: #202122; line-height: 107%;"> voice and traditional songs, inspired by the daily lives of working people -- especially
those from fishing villages and farms. Sadly, he died in a fire
aboard an airplane at the age of 33. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Rogers wrote the
lyrics to the song, “The Field Behind the Plow.” In the words, I dug out this
beautiful gem: <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;">“Watch the field behind the plow turn to
straight dark rows,</span><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">Put another season's promise in the ground.”</span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The sentiment is
about Springtime and the planting of seeds; the formation of tidy rows and the
much-anticipated harvest. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">As we hunker down and
fortify our walls against the elements, I like to cast a different light on
that line: “Put another season’s promise in the ground” might also give a nod
to a fresh blanket of snow, covering fields that have recently lined our pantry
shelves. Orchards and vineyards, soon cloaked in ice, have given us pies and applesauce;
juice and wine; preserves and jams. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Another season’s
promise becomes a provision for the winter months. We can, with abundance,
enjoy the taste of summer in the darkness of December. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">While the earth
freezes, we can still savor the juicy delight of a garden tomato. Or Grandma’s
impossibly yummy watermelon rind pickles.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">This is what I love
about farm country. Promises abound whether it’s planting time, growing season
or harvest. Promises even thrive in winter when the fields are at rest.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">If joy is measured by
produce-laden tables, may your pearls be pomegranates; may your diamonds be
sweet corn.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Next time you see a
resting field, consider the one who planted and worried when it didn’t rain;
the family who unloaded their pickup at the farm stand, week in and week out. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In that field, deer
may be bedding down at night. Turkeys will perform their comic dance across
those brown fields. Geese will stitch seams into the sky overhead. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">These, too, are
promises of the season: things we can bank on, no matter the economic
downturns.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Savor the moments. As
Maya Angelou famously wrote, “Buckle close friends to your soul.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium; line-height: 107%;"><span>We really can have
summer memories in the raw winds of wintertime.</span><span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6J1qteFlUrqnistD3ggTZP7zUJi3PiVDGfIt55QE8rjT2r5Kfqj-avQoMNsAHA-o5vz_N6vVaNBDU-x0OF-Mq9yJcYbDNi2tw5mX4OWJTPRwtDJYEX85cG0DYAY2oy_Qu0EWkwlKG6EUpifuH7T6t-HHKjYaJ2jCEzYehabFf0gxUAXaXIgQ-GNNK8Q/s1896/Farm%20Sunset%20by%20Lynn%20Marie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1218" data-original-width="1896" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6J1qteFlUrqnistD3ggTZP7zUJi3PiVDGfIt55QE8rjT2r5Kfqj-avQoMNsAHA-o5vz_N6vVaNBDU-x0OF-Mq9yJcYbDNi2tw5mX4OWJTPRwtDJYEX85cG0DYAY2oy_Qu0EWkwlKG6EUpifuH7T6t-HHKjYaJ2jCEzYehabFf0gxUAXaXIgQ-GNNK8Q/s320/Farm%20Sunset%20by%20Lynn%20Marie.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photo by Lynn Gurdak</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">This piece also appeared in the November 2022 edition of Silver Magazine - printed by The Post-Journal, Jamestown NY</span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhirO2OpDQ6qXHdsFRDQjuxEVyyYP-_5pjRVrqvm_0epKxLksQN-kTC6Mqn-N-3MrRuO8R3EZWm8F27hs73vjXTx15Dv01NEzSF0RkMDpvuIs5KtGFevgZie9psDLTOnNES8-18xMRUXS-NHWQ3xrqDnaiQs-Wxs49FQu0w2IodNMtrINLSjpwooqhvgw/s4032/Silver%20Magazine%20November%202022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhirO2OpDQ6qXHdsFRDQjuxEVyyYP-_5pjRVrqvm_0epKxLksQN-kTC6Mqn-N-3MrRuO8R3EZWm8F27hs73vjXTx15Dv01NEzSF0RkMDpvuIs5KtGFevgZie9psDLTOnNES8-18xMRUXS-NHWQ3xrqDnaiQs-Wxs49FQu0w2IodNMtrINLSjpwooqhvgw/s320/Silver%20Magazine%20November%202022.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Kathy Joy is an Indy Writer for Capture Me Books; she eagerly awaits the debut of her new children's book in January 2023.</i></span></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 335.3pt;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p></div>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-62364579471702267932022-07-29T13:45:00.002-07:002022-07-29T13:45:52.517-07:00Traveling Solo<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwJomzYtRPULnC2IM6OmXWnHxbsRSHAzMUEHH2OvhjV58awhpmCnsG3S5eXWj15o409leimbDruH2L3dJk30EBgbhGei069g9Le8_Npy8mPQ4a6vzgfWgCc-zXfXawq3_W17UDhBKDT1wWGQcCrWd4U5Cxda6KM_gOAmmpQhx1X2FEK7X5e9atL1hCA/s1600/Country%20Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwJomzYtRPULnC2IM6OmXWnHxbsRSHAzMUEHH2OvhjV58awhpmCnsG3S5eXWj15o409leimbDruH2L3dJk30EBgbhGei069g9Le8_Npy8mPQ4a6vzgfWgCc-zXfXawq3_W17UDhBKDT1wWGQcCrWd4U5Cxda6KM_gOAmmpQhx1X2FEK7X5e9atL1hCA/s320/Country%20Road.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />As a newly minted retiree, I am happily wandering the countryside in pursuit of waterfalls, covered bridges, quaint shops and other fun destinations.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In the nine-to-five structure of my days, these mini-adventures had to be squeezed into the weekends. Now, however, I get to unfold a map of my own design. I can draw lines from here to there and in-between, putting a star next to places of interest.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A ribbon of road, a fringe of forest, an endless blue sky. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My vagabond soul.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Off-highway is my favorite choice. In "settings" I tell my navigation system to avoid freeways and toll roads. <i>And off we go. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Recently I was returning home from the Harrisburg, PA area and directed my GPS off-highway, as usual. The back roads were portals of wonder as I coasted through the Allegheny Mountains. Trees, dense and overgrown, met overhead to form a green canopy. For miles and miles, I met no other cars. I drove right into a canvas of aging barns and stately homes, hushed cemeteries and white steeples, landscaped lawns and laundry dancing in the breeze. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg9XXHdOLbw1rj5YfJ533PKTdof7dJZHU5pjt-ecQdzjyh3TLHOyRTvY2pY231rR1Wv37t1afrrnKTemcuhs9SxCL1cSY4rlnP4n0uCWfAnJPBiLIwSL8Z-Nh8263QNISzIoFYIzO3v30qNDnnl8GZ-2ZbTrEaarA4aoQ0M-qeOrmyHHHlkZzDaaZwGQ/s842/Barn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="651" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg9XXHdOLbw1rj5YfJ533PKTdof7dJZHU5pjt-ecQdzjyh3TLHOyRTvY2pY231rR1Wv37t1afrrnKTemcuhs9SxCL1cSY4rlnP4n0uCWfAnJPBiLIwSL8Z-Nh8263QNISzIoFYIzO3v30qNDnnl8GZ-2ZbTrEaarA4aoQ0M-qeOrmyHHHlkZzDaaZwGQ/s320/Barn.jpg" width="247" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Vegetable stands came into view and I slowed down so I could read signs that said, "Best Sweet Corn Ever, $3.00 a dozen" and "Leave Your Cash in the Basket if We're Not Here". </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This is the downhome rural America I love. In the cross sections of one-pump gas stations and enticing ice cream stands, I never once considered I could be doing 70 on a straight stretch of asphalt.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Meandering at 40 or 45 miles per hour, I took in acres of field corn, pastures of grazing cows, glorious bundles of hay as far as the eye could see.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As the shadows lengthened and dusk whispered in, I realized I still had hours to travel before reaching my driveway. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Reluctantly, I switched my navigation to "highway" and accelerated into the blur of traffic. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What I'd really like to see in our high tech world is a GPS that can track the intersection of Chaos and Possibility. I want to go there.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Wouldn't it be helpful if we could call a friend and say, "Meet me at the crossroads of Loss and Recovered Joy" ? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Or, "Let's have coffee at that little place on Main Street - you know the one - where you empty the dregs of cold resentment and tank up on a large cup of affirmation!" My GPS will show me the way.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Or not.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No amount of technology will locate the corner of Loss and Acceptance; it's an organic mechanism of the human heart. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No warp speed coordinates will zoom in on the corner of Anger and Forgiveness. You have to get there by fits and starts. By lurching sideways and avoiding the potholes of outrage.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Fact is, there is no straight highway, no winding back road, to a safe arrival. The best anyone can do is remain calm and trust the navigation. Oh, and take lots of stretch breaks. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3a03iLdD1rWDAeoSsDvtbEcbQ6_XhYbQBR_CeiQ6OdY3iTtodxl0YqiMLAu-O74uNUshBWPP1Vem2sp0v3wABbEz367TuM193J3waz9NpRlf9S7_P27_X6LAAGNr-reawzogq4PQu37pX_yjHLD0zakgiUYtklceiTel0AkclpTnLOXqe6sXlucP18g/s429/Abundance.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="248" data-original-width="429" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3a03iLdD1rWDAeoSsDvtbEcbQ6_XhYbQBR_CeiQ6OdY3iTtodxl0YqiMLAu-O74uNUshBWPP1Vem2sp0v3wABbEz367TuM193J3waz9NpRlf9S7_P27_X6LAAGNr-reawzogq4PQu37pX_yjHLD0zakgiUYtklceiTel0AkclpTnLOXqe6sXlucP18g/s320/Abundance.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When we get to those mile markers, we should honk and wave, so the next traveler feels not so alone.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgH70Od8eZyj9nBjSmIaaV054KYTvnotrEdnaj1wwqPbt0MQUXjog4Dfnp7RMcSkPSrZVGE89HbqjcAv-H8rP07gtmUeGqJMWXhA-py7itZ3lTd-4ELsAglDzm4wSwnpNfZZ0bOEsloZE-dKeh1CfPznSaLzAH9JyRxGob6GRVowQoTCROIyKHtd2mw/s474/dandelion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="355" data-original-width="474" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgH70Od8eZyj9nBjSmIaaV054KYTvnotrEdnaj1wwqPbt0MQUXjog4Dfnp7RMcSkPSrZVGE89HbqjcAv-H8rP07gtmUeGqJMWXhA-py7itZ3lTd-4ELsAglDzm4wSwnpNfZZ0bOEsloZE-dKeh1CfPznSaLzAH9JyRxGob6GRVowQoTCROIyKHtd2mw/s320/dandelion.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This blog supports booksforbondinghearts.com</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;"></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: start;">Please consider purchasing my newly published children's book, </span><b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: start;"><i>Will You Hold My Story? - a story about listening, for kids of all ages. You can read customer reviews by visiting </i></b><span style="background-color: transparent; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><b><i>https://www.amazon.com/Will-You-Hold-My-Story/</i></b></span></span></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-86591887141271917792022-03-29T15:44:00.001-07:002022-03-29T15:44:41.445-07:00Of Cemeteries, Selfies and Restored Barns<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01VeDeEtJUYAvkABS8hPImB3FTbeIqfOjXILbSi1JZn0L9-tz24zg_MMAOyYjE2RBRtKAnmNCtZCR_-PP5gKMosPdEunWvvoR3vgY0TUo4HyIULxCAr02JBdrMbY6EEDKUGQqvtIdYuztbskcGWc2WKUyIZ1LnEXUrAon3f0c2dbhOPmaZ_KUBMnLxg/s3016/SUNFLOWERS%20Close%20up%20Chandlers%20Valley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2572" data-original-width="3016" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01VeDeEtJUYAvkABS8hPImB3FTbeIqfOjXILbSi1JZn0L9-tz24zg_MMAOyYjE2RBRtKAnmNCtZCR_-PP5gKMosPdEunWvvoR3vgY0TUo4HyIULxCAr02JBdrMbY6EEDKUGQqvtIdYuztbskcGWc2WKUyIZ1LnEXUrAon3f0c2dbhOPmaZ_KUBMnLxg/s320/SUNFLOWERS%20Close%20up%20Chandlers%20Valley.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">On the occasion of my daughter’s wedding in June 2020, I
visited my husband’s grave. A strange place to take a selfie, perhaps – but that’s
what I did.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">After placing my mother-of-the-bride sunflowers on Roger’s
stone, I took a selfie.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I wanted to preserve the moment, to mark yet another
grief-point of Roger’s gaping impossible absence: the wedding where he – not I –
should have walked her down the aisle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The photo is my profile picture on Facebook.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNoS5C3Yi7hLlA-DiROx34sMyeOWL5bIXLZYpgJ55fzsQi3WPNvL5KU9eI7nvhW4cgTxgG3IJdWR_1pmIYx5oX-vBTqMx5UGpoziyz0b7xvIOwBUJGLN_YSt2lGtRbz0CMqloNHq06WO-B9YMOb4ZBCR9-DEOtQ7VZBQcd-gJ-JegpTFJLHzAeaoRi4Q/s959/Selfie%20in%20Cemetery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="959" data-original-width="955" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNoS5C3Yi7hLlA-DiROx34sMyeOWL5bIXLZYpgJ55fzsQi3WPNvL5KU9eI7nvhW4cgTxgG3IJdWR_1pmIYx5oX-vBTqMx5UGpoziyz0b7xvIOwBUJGLN_YSt2lGtRbz0CMqloNHq06WO-B9YMOb4ZBCR9-DEOtQ7VZBQcd-gJ-JegpTFJLHzAeaoRi4Q/s320/Selfie%20in%20Cemetery.jpg" width="319" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The response has been more than I’d expected, a generous
cluster of comments such as “you look great” and “you look fresh as springtime”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I’d taken the photo to literally make sure I was still in my
physical body, the day had been so surreal without him there. I was shadow
inside a circle of Nothingness; sorrow inside layers of regret.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">It had been the best day and the worst day. </span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></div><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNoBkLz7LY2_NjlN4Fu32BS2pkperNkQZqZRkPk3IF3ktc3X8q9fQi8ojt086S4y7KHe2z4lEYPFBrLncE2-gpbCBhAx1rIq1MzWeuOYZidBHLBfbmt7ipTPiMQ2CeYty1EkzyXAUPlxfue1ZiW7t_LsT1mNK7lfwJwpNWh8Cr1Gd_46ZdlidYZQi0_w/s828/Andrea%20and%20Mom%20Day%20of%20Wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="552" data-original-width="828" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNoBkLz7LY2_NjlN4Fu32BS2pkperNkQZqZRkPk3IF3ktc3X8q9fQi8ojt086S4y7KHe2z4lEYPFBrLncE2-gpbCBhAx1rIq1MzWeuOYZidBHLBfbmt7ipTPiMQ2CeYty1EkzyXAUPlxfue1ZiW7t_LsT1mNK7lfwJwpNWh8Cr1Gd_46ZdlidYZQi0_w/s320/Andrea%20and%20Mom%20Day%20of%20Wedding.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><o:p></o:p></i><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My carefully applied makeup had been cried into hot rivulets
of smeared mascara. A layer of sunburn tinged my skin. My hair, all done up for
the wedding, was now mashed down by my favorite sun visor.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I felt a million miles away from Beautiful.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In that moment I was bereft, lonely, a little bit mad. <i>No,
a lot mad.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Angry because another Big Life Event had come and gone.
Without him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>Without <b>us.</b></i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Since that warm June day in a cemetery in Chandlers Valley,
Pennsylvania, there have been more Life Events: our second daughter married.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A sweet baby girl arrived, christening me a grandma for the
very first time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I’ve retired.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Moved to a new place. <i>Again.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Published a new book. Working on another.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Life Events. Big Days.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Often I wonder what it might have looked like, to grow old
with this man. To grow into a season of “older love” with my husband. We’d
experienced the roller coaster of new love, the solemn and joyful entry into a
marriage covenant; the happy chaos of parenting; the chasing down of careers,
of dreams, possibilities and future hopes. We’d been naïve, thinking we would
also welcome a mellower time of Seasoned Love, of holding hands in the Silence
of Knowing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">But we didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He didn’t. He had to leave because his heart could no longer
keep pace with his intensity, his constant quest to fix things and put in hay
and build relationships and try-try-try to mend situations that were clearly
beyond mending.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I saw it. I saw it and I wanted him to slow down, to have a
seat, to find contentment, to be still. JUST BE STILL.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">And then his heart stopped.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">And ours kept beating.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Myself and our daughters, we kept moving forward because
that’s what the surviving do: they step into the tender lands of a place they
do not know, a place without him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Without his laughter, his dad jokes, his made-up silly
songs. His love of bonfires in the back, down by the barn. His good humor
toward the girls’ horses, which he often referred to as “hay burners”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>Of course he was always fixing things. </i>He shored up
the barn, the barn that everybody said should be razed. Start all over, they
cautioned. Build something new.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">But not him. No, not Roger. He gazed out our living room
window at that barn, studying the way it sagged to the one side. The graying of
worn wood from weather and wind and a ‘hundred winters.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzg77ClgnyRfV5N0IOyhfL1tIlUb2G-640nvm5olnB3dyij6O--HV9Oe0_IlY9RfHFfwmGihK4mPl3mBkBs0QN_S6SXZe5X0qyP2ZxnIa_LBVHoYU860vZrdr_B-xPoohNPJn2JXN0ikkrXrMCRWhhSfh2rbNvzr-a3baBCRVwDGQ-AByyAPE7dH56A/s842/Barn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="651" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzg77ClgnyRfV5N0IOyhfL1tIlUb2G-640nvm5olnB3dyij6O--HV9Oe0_IlY9RfHFfwmGihK4mPl3mBkBs0QN_S6SXZe5X0qyP2ZxnIa_LBVHoYU860vZrdr_B-xPoohNPJn2JXN0ikkrXrMCRWhhSfh2rbNvzr-a3baBCRVwDGQ-AByyAPE7dH56A/s320/Barn.jpg" width="247" /></span></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Then one day he began. He had help from family, but mostly
he took it on as a personal mission. Openly marveling at the dove-tailed wood
in that old barn, Roger made it sturdy again. He honored the craftsmanship that
had gone before. The barn rallied and stood strong. Impervious to the
winds, like Roger himself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">That barn? That old barn is a metaphor for the life he and I
shared. The landmark was once a New Beginning on top of a windswept hill. A
cathedral of Possibility.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">That old barn was made sturdy by times of abundance and in
lean times, too. It grew long in the tooth but proved immeasurable in
endurance. That structure held laughter in its walls, harbored tools, welcomed
children, kept all God’s creatures safe and dry.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Held secrets.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">That old barn.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Our abbreviated lives.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It’s beautiful still, that sanctuary of wood and clay and
dirt, still sheltering livestock, still smelling of hay and tractors, of oats and
manure.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I drive up there sometimes, just to be sure it’s still
there. And it is. It’s always there – like the memory of our life together. I
can count on that, at least.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">So back to the photo. A quick snapshot of myself, standing
in front of his gravestone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Maybe there is a wisp of beauty, after all – a spark of
durability; an elegance that rises from unfathomable loss.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">This is not vanity, this notion of seeing myself beautiful.
This is grit and moxie and a gutsy refusal to lose hope.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A striking kind of loveliness. Harvested from suffering. I’ve
seen this in the eyes of other widows, this odd, reflective beauty. The pain is
there, but so is the hope – that relentless belief that as long as you cherish
the memories, that person lives on inside your own heart.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_fq_xQ9qiiKD9hFD0sB9R8Yk8dNOKn2rBqkdelckvHno9ENIGAiPCsdNQbxlHrP_iyaZdNRK4yV4KsTLO0gPCS2_wiJ05qtUHTVlLNNTim0SxI9bRK3hYubHBourdwl59YHqK_xBa1sZadjGjhHF5jUacWg1wXD4rctnm-wg6tw5oka7dhu6MmHEEw/s475/OLDER%20LOVE%20Book%20Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="361" data-original-width="475" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_fq_xQ9qiiKD9hFD0sB9R8Yk8dNOKn2rBqkdelckvHno9ENIGAiPCsdNQbxlHrP_iyaZdNRK4yV4KsTLO0gPCS2_wiJ05qtUHTVlLNNTim0SxI9bRK3hYubHBourdwl59YHqK_xBa1sZadjGjhHF5jUacWg1wXD4rctnm-wg6tw5oka7dhu6MmHEEw/s320/OLDER%20LOVE%20Book%20Cover.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<p class="line" style="background: white; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">For everything there is a
season,</span></span><span style="color: black;">
<span class="text">a time for every activity under heaven.</span><br />
<span class="text"><span id="en-NLT-17338">A time to be born and a time to die.</span></span><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">A time
to plant and a time to harvest.</span></span><span style="color: black;"><br />
<span class="text"><b><sup><span id="en-NLT-17339"> </span></sup></b>A
time to kill and a time to heal.</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">A time
to tear down and a time to build up.</span></span><span style="color: black;"><br />
<span class="text"><b><sup><span id="en-NLT-17340"> </span></sup></b>A
time to cry and a time to laugh.</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">A time
to grieve and a time to dance.</span></span><span style="color: black;"><br />
<span class="text"><span id="en-NLT-17341">A time to scatter stones and a time to
gather stones.</span></span><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">A time
to embrace and a time to turn away.</span></span><span style="color: black;"><br />
<span class="text"><b><sup><span id="en-NLT-17342"> </span></sup></b>A
time to search and a time to quit searching.</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">A time
to keep and a time to throw away.</span></span><span style="color: black;"><br />
<span class="text"><span id="en-NLT-17343">A time to tear and a time to mend.</span></span><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">A time
to be quiet and a time to speak.</span></span><span style="color: black;"><br />
<span class="text"><b><sup><span id="en-NLT-17344"> </span></sup></b>A
time to love and a time to hate.</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">A time
for war and a time for peace.</span></span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="top-1" style="background: white; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span class="text"><b><sup><span style="color: black;"> </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">What do
people really get for all their hard work?</span></span><span style="color: black;"> <span class="text"><b><sup><span id="en-NLT-17346"> </span></sup></b>I have seen the
burden God has placed on us all.</span></span> <span class="text"><b><sup><span id="en-NLT-17347"> </span></sup></b>Yet God has made
everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human
heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from
beginning to end.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="top-1" style="background: white; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black;">Ecclesiastes 3:1-11 New
Living Translation</span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The book, “Older Love” by Warren Hanson, is a lovely
collection of thoughts and illustrations celebrating the mellowed love of old
age.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The photo of the old barn is a Google image – although it
strongly resembles our hilltop barn before it was fixed up.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-12789826806033828642021-08-17T13:55:00.001-07:002021-08-17T13:55:03.689-07:00Digging for Gems<p> </p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" class="MsoNormalTable" style="background: white; mso-cellspacing: 1.5pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184; width: 100%px;">
<tbody><tr style="height: 92.25pt; mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0;">
<td style="height: 92.25pt; padding: 0.75pt 53.8pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 3.0pt; margin: 3pt 0in 9pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Aparajita",serif; font-size: 20pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Aparajita",serif; font-size: 20pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsShPkwu_jAlp0hqzYVGCLZR4CRCplxEbnYWW2ra_v3aw-RveTNzX4i2S0D-z-nIt5rK_YTcbutmAKFIqCjaqv4SMqUtCUNRTYFq5OqvheAvyVMpDH4LlVmXPCIISjm6qj12sh0ZXTD749/s750/jewels-glass.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="750" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsShPkwu_jAlp0hqzYVGCLZR4CRCplxEbnYWW2ra_v3aw-RveTNzX4i2S0D-z-nIt5rK_YTcbutmAKFIqCjaqv4SMqUtCUNRTYFq5OqvheAvyVMpDH4LlVmXPCIISjm6qj12sh0ZXTD749/s320/jewels-glass.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Aparajita",serif; font-size: 20pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and
then stands back to see if we can find them.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 1; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;">
<td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top">
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 20.25pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #767676; font-family: "Aparajita",serif; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-transform: uppercase;">ELIZABETH
GILBERT</span><span style="color: #767676; font-family: Aparajita, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-transform: uppercase;"> </span></p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Sans Typewriter"; font-size: 18pt;"><i>Dear humans in the relentless industry of helping people:</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Sans Typewriter"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Sans Typewriter"; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><i>Just remember, while you are excavating hopeful shiny
gems that surface under your careful surveillance ...
there are also impossibly exquisite jewels emerging from your own heart.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Sans Typewriter"; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Sans Typewriter"; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Remember that.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8iHzXsRQOpRq6Wbb73WgjXtSLzf8B6f7Iv-rE1jLhiYDuhC2DFPWoj6l2FSVzNMGXGDkTuJ0qnrRBA2YsLEDXiFap0d8LYqd-skZmg7EwKtPEtToe5X-GZtEM7UfGWiBlhC284S33gqWR/s1024/heart+necklace+in+hand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1024" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8iHzXsRQOpRq6Wbb73WgjXtSLzf8B6f7Iv-rE1jLhiYDuhC2DFPWoj6l2FSVzNMGXGDkTuJ0qnrRBA2YsLEDXiFap0d8LYqd-skZmg7EwKtPEtToe5X-GZtEM7UfGWiBlhC284S33gqWR/s320/heart+necklace+in+hand.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This blog supports booksforbondinghearts.com</span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600"
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</v:shape><![endif]--></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: start;">Please consider purchasing my newly published children's book, </span><b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: start;"><i>Will You Hold My Story? - a story about listening, for kids of all ages. You can read customer reviews by visiting </i></b><span style="background-color: transparent; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><b><i>https://www.amazon.com/Will-You-Hold-My-Story/</i></b></span></span></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-78158814985864116592021-05-19T12:16:00.000-07:002021-05-19T12:16:21.617-07:00Matt's Pen<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some childhood stories stick with you like bright, bobbing
buoys in uncharted seas. They serve as vivid markers as we navigate our days.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnS0TPxAN3CA53bQguYqcanohXzRcNUnu5ISud8gzOeNwbRbN0gQFXmzsh-u04erNst4qLa61s-trQWQWkQmlGEZK9aoIhfhyphenhyphenf2EQpYgGCGOOHRKLSvDt27nJj5UYVa7iobWU8zyO_frX/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="227" data-original-width="288" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnS0TPxAN3CA53bQguYqcanohXzRcNUnu5ISud8gzOeNwbRbN0gQFXmzsh-u04erNst4qLa61s-trQWQWkQmlGEZK9aoIhfhyphenhyphenf2EQpYgGCGOOHRKLSvDt27nJj5UYVa7iobWU8zyO_frX/" width="304" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One story, for me, is about a worker who lost his job.
Everything was gone: his income, his years of education, his sense of purpose.
He’d been a well-known businessman. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But the one thing he took away from that career was his pen.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinxAbAoUIuMDFCs44brYB4a7_7WxY5UYvfrshyWy9icyv8XvUjZOKXNIKlblyvvdLiT833ZQnwPu7CA-_s3G_iEZ0PkCFM-buyyzJFOLL7kFwAwMyG5EIulzzzwFuOXs17yF8V0_K_u87u/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="190" data-original-width="265" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinxAbAoUIuMDFCs44brYB4a7_7WxY5UYvfrshyWy9icyv8XvUjZOKXNIKlblyvvdLiT833ZQnwPu7CA-_s3G_iEZ0PkCFM-buyyzJFOLL7kFwAwMyG5EIulzzzwFuOXs17yF8V0_K_u87u/" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That pen? This guy repurposed it for writing stories that
would be published and passed down to generations of readers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By all accounts, this author did not make money from his
stories. Something of greater value emerged: his legacy. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The stories became powerful influencers for good:
affirmations, encouragement, purpose-filled texts to uplift, to sustain.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’ve always liked this story. It is timeless. Relatable.
Unique yet universal.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We are all repurposing our gifts, just like this writer dude
from ancient times.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sewing machines are being regenerated into mask factories.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Fitness coaches are upping their game - moving their services
to interactive video sessions.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Boardroom meetings are expanding into Zoom extravaganzas –
wonderfully unexpected, often funny, exchanges among colleagues.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">First Responders are keeping us safe in challenging
conditions.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Team Leaders are repurposing and expanding their skills to
maneuver the platoons and keep everyone focused.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s amazing, really, this human capacity to adapt and
redirect and manage and breathe; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To release what we’d planned on and embrace what <i>is.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To be grateful we have paychecks, while others are still
waiting for help.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To shift our perspective from Planning to Adapting.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To walk away from everything familiar and step into the
Unknown.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Perhaps, in a way, we are plying our pens – writing our own stories
for our children to read and re-read.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">These heirlooms handed down will far surpass any Roth-IRA,
401-K or Estate provision.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Treasures of survival are the currency that can never be
stolen, lost or wrongly invested.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You have more abundance than you know. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">With reserves to bank on when times are lean.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1WovTuREtoEjJhjPaL3kU3MVUOGPoY8EzkPKIn0Tpr5TAVb3TU-t19-bNYRd0MUe5noWYDh6gjURXA_T4RcDWrXruMEMCFA4VgUjIQjtdwbR6-2srFf16YOViVAHuANxYL6U6rs0xh5s/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="221" data-original-width="332" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1WovTuREtoEjJhjPaL3kU3MVUOGPoY8EzkPKIn0Tpr5TAVb3TU-t19-bNYRd0MUe5noWYDh6gjURXA_T4RcDWrXruMEMCFA4VgUjIQjtdwbR6-2srFf16YOViVAHuANxYL6U6rs0xh5s/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Kathy Joy<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Another look at the gospel of
Matthew<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">May 20, 2020</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">
<o:p></o:p></span></p></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /><br /></span></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-59866983742646996072021-05-12T13:39:00.002-07:002021-05-12T13:42:03.404-07:00With Every Heartbeat<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wc-DmYOMrvkCtRfnjEiR7_9cWy_1Una5ebENk9lx0ETy6l5U4vwD7xYRj7HpW4ztvLA1u_4pwVvVoI26dYXFZLlG4S0L2j89QjB2djdjjQgRxgPD0oyL8kQP0qfak_NcKjwOX-6NhWYr/s1419/Heart+Toward+Healing.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1419" data-original-width="1408" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wc-DmYOMrvkCtRfnjEiR7_9cWy_1Una5ebENk9lx0ETy6l5U4vwD7xYRj7HpW4ztvLA1u_4pwVvVoI26dYXFZLlG4S0L2j89QjB2djdjjQgRxgPD0oyL8kQP0qfak_NcKjwOX-6NhWYr/s320/Heart+Toward+Healing.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt;">In small incremental ways, we are returning to
“normal”.</span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Will we ever experience the “normal” we knew
pre-pandemic? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Impossible to know.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">But, really – how much joy we are finding in the
small things, things like actual salt and pepper shakers in the restaurant,
instead of those ridiculous tiny packets that scatter everywhere when torn
open.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">We’re getting outside more. Enjoying nature.
Stubborn Northerners, we are waiting out the lingering chill in May, certain
that flip flop weather will finally return.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Making plans, feeling hopeful.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Alongside this buoyant feeling we have little
remnants of dread, torn bits of anguish hovering in our peripheral vision. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">“It’s complex,” a co worker remarked. “We want to
believe we can step out, but there’s that little bit of hesitation.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">She’s right. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">With every heartbeat there is a silent pulse of
“what if”. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Another friend commented on an image of the heart, much like the one in this piece. She remarked, “It makes me think of all the ways our hearts are
impacted, for good or for bad. And in this you see the scars, and the signs of
growth”. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">We are seeing and hearing and tasting bright ribbons
of optimism. Yet some days, all we can taste of life is what isn’t here anymore.
That’s a longing, a vague hankering for something we can’t even identify.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The heart is a <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">labyrinth, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">a <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">maze <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">of <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">passageways <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">and <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">chambers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt;">One of my favorite authors, “Anonymous”, describes
how the channels of the heart are formed:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">“Sorrow with his pick mines the heart, but he is a
cunning workman. He deepens the channels whereby happiness may enter, and he
hollows out new chambers for joy to abide in when he is gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Could it be? Could we actually be carriers of a <b><i>deeper
capacity for joy,</i></b> now that we are slowly emerging from a global
pandemic?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Is it possible? Is it imaginable that we are
organically vaccinated against anguish? Are we building immunities against
despair?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Let’s hope so.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">When humans experience loss together, a new
passageway is formed. It’s an alternative path toward repair, and it is made of
the bone and sinew of sheer will, a spark of unmatched creativity and the kind
of humor that has the guts to show up in the dark. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">There is uncertainty, sure – clouds roll in, people
die, the phone rings and resets your heartbeat forever.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Yet in the scrambled, confusing network of pain and
joy mingled, there are markers of growth. There are signs of achievement. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">There are strong sutures of binding up, of healing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I’d never before considered</span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">
laughter</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">
a weapon. It’s our first line of defense, portable and accessible whenever
darkness dares sneak in sideways.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium; line-height: 107%;"><b>Proverbs 17:22, The Message "A cheerful disposition is good for your health; gloom and doom leave you bone-tired."</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">We, like the heart, form a complicated and irregular
network of pathways and mysterious chambers. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">If we stop to learn about each other, we will see
the scars, the signs of growth, the purpose and the destination.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">That’s the kind of “normal” I hope we are moving
toward, arm-in-arm and mindfully matching our strides to each other’s.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVsmytCtlcG8JAMF_ZgB3Be2ta_PVlf9aZLYi3Ebst6r0tBgTzalmwmpCAXe_sAjvPhpkasOuv1DCPiu_mHp_RXTf1AkR0xz0BQWQKjkcj7WeU5bRqhV8VIBPHtLfOjF7X6vci259RncZ/s800/Walking+Together+Families.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVsmytCtlcG8JAMF_ZgB3Be2ta_PVlf9aZLYi3Ebst6r0tBgTzalmwmpCAXe_sAjvPhpkasOuv1DCPiu_mHp_RXTf1AkR0xz0BQWQKjkcj7WeU5bRqhV8VIBPHtLfOjF7X6vci259RncZ/s320/Walking+Together+Families.jpg" /></a></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">This blog supports booksforbondinghearts.com</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: start;">Please consider purchasing my newly published children's book, </span><b style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: start;"><i>Will You Hold My Story? - a story about listening, for kids of all ages. You can read customer reviews by visiting </i></b><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><b><i>https://www.amazon.com/Will-You-Hold-My-Story/</i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-39479189713916317812021-04-27T07:56:00.000-07:002021-04-27T07:56:04.532-07:00The Humor Vaccine<p> </p><div class="WordSection1">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">It was more than a year ago that we found ourselves
in a peculiar lockdown with many unknowns.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">A colleague at my office reached out to me with a
suggestion we send words of encouragement to the now-disjointed staff.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">And so it began: The Daily Jab. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Now pared down to a less frequent occurrence, the
“jab” has made attempts to soften the edges of a scary and long pandemic.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I looked back on the jabs from a year ago and
thought you might like to read the one on humor.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">With some fine-tuning and a few updates, here we go.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Humor is the antitoxin to sadness – and we’ve all
had more than our share of grief.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Please, let’s not go it alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">With over a year of restrictions, cancelled events
and masking up, we’ve all become travelers on a journey we never signed up for.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">So many detours, too many roadblocks. Our resilience
has been tested and found stronger, yet we are a bit bedraggled and road-weary.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Laughter, however, knows
no boundaries; it refuses to be contained or dispersed in measured doses.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: "Ink Free"; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Laughter spills out everywhere, with little regard for
policy and procedure. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #00b050; font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">How lovely is that?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div style="border-bottom: 1pt solid rgb(68, 114, 196); border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: 1pt solid rgb(68, 114, 196); margin-left: 0.6in; margin-right: 0.6in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid #4472C4 .5pt; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-border-top-alt: solid #4472C4 .5pt; mso-border-top-themecolor: accent1; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 10pt 0in;">
<p class="MsoIntenseQuote" style="margin-bottom: .25in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .25in; margin: 0.25in 0in;"><span style="font-family: Algerian; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Humor is an audacious display of endurance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Laughter is the music of saying, “I care, and I want
to see your smile.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p class=MsoNormal><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bottled_water"><span
style='font-size:9.0pt;line-height:107%'>This Photo</span></a><span
style='font-size:9.0pt;line-height:107%'> by Unknown Author is licensed
under </span><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/"><span
style='font-size:9.0pt;line-height:107%'>CC BY-SA</span></a><span
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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: Harrington; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Laughter is a generous glass of mineral water:
bubbly, effervescent and delightfully hydrating!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5N4Ea_qMkeuOBDtJHjxz5Dt5Bai9XtFp1ENwiX-1GCOYAdOVnUjr3oMSpvuC5drHEfjpK57LHuUq9N07lxmHvSF_LYw8FXHXBeJHvy5-vyR8vzbP0iZt8DCqUwhvj5K0VTvrLZr-PAntP/s1200/carbonated-water.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="879" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5N4Ea_qMkeuOBDtJHjxz5Dt5Bai9XtFp1ENwiX-1GCOYAdOVnUjr3oMSpvuC5drHEfjpK57LHuUq9N07lxmHvSF_LYw8FXHXBeJHvy5-vyR8vzbP0iZt8DCqUwhvj5K0VTvrLZr-PAntP/s320/carbonated-water.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The memes and jokes floating around are surely a
healthy antidote to boredom: a ripple of laughter becomes a hug of affirmation;
a giddy embrace of joy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Someone once said laughter is “jogging on the
inside”. That’s a good strategy as we continue figuring out how to keep
ourselves healthy while leaning toward normal days.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: #00b0f0; font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Cordia New";">What
we need most these days is a hug.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: #00b0f0; font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Cordia New";">Recently
I listened to a podcast about a woman who just wanted to be held. It broke my
heart.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJc86HV0ZsVubtooy5YUbGCpphtQiUfa7aPa0qzZhr6m_pkWx6McYy3Z1iVWgAjWdaKthWESSk-dVhxaCQeM95Eg5xO_1zjqZiU4RSbDhbEzSEevu3PdNaPUtHOe5ebyg8rzZNK47gMhG/s2048/Hug+Therapy+Elderly+Woman.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1451" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJc86HV0ZsVubtooy5YUbGCpphtQiUfa7aPa0qzZhr6m_pkWx6McYy3Z1iVWgAjWdaKthWESSk-dVhxaCQeM95Eg5xO_1zjqZiU4RSbDhbEzSEevu3PdNaPUtHOe5ebyg8rzZNK47gMhG/s320/Hug+Therapy+Elderly+Woman.jpg" /></a></b></div><b><br /><span style="color: #00b0f0; font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Cordia New";"><br /></span></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">Until we can go back to our social norms of meaningful connection, let’s
continue sending ripples of humor into the unknown.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: Cavolini; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">Let’s stay connected in playful,
childlike ways.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">A good belly laugh releases endorphins, and those are natural inhibitors
of pain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">Even a quiet chuckle gives you an upswing of wellbeing for the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">Moment by moment – that’s how we’ll continue navigating this foggy voyage,
this weird interval in history.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">Because, you know what?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><b>We are pathfinders.</b> We’re doing this together, this off-kilter Covid
dance, and we will emerge strong. We’ll gather like superheroes at a comic con
jubilee: caped up, compassionate and absolutely intrepid.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIF8U4fDDltmEQh_-Nikol0-Lg7ZcEGCUao6SnrprkBHcA0g-SaFuyozeYierWhyphenhyphenN0ho9gWLGIjZIJJZ4y5B5_HgeKM0FwBq2IiKpky7ST-xCdnJYyLcvnuwZVeBVA9YoXmu1rA8HujGbF/s1500/Nurse-Superheroes-Poster.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1003" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIF8U4fDDltmEQh_-Nikol0-Lg7ZcEGCUao6SnrprkBHcA0g-SaFuyozeYierWhyphenhyphenN0ho9gWLGIjZIJJZ4y5B5_HgeKM0FwBq2IiKpky7ST-xCdnJYyLcvnuwZVeBVA9YoXmu1rA8HujGbF/s320/Nurse-Superheroes-Poster.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Lobster; font-size: large;">Infectious humor is the vaccine. Laughter inoculates against despair.</span></span></div></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">It’s available in unlimited supply. Organically dispatched through real
time, Zoom, phone calls, texts and other passageways toward human beings. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">Including elbow bumps and rogue hugs. <i>Especially the hugs.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">We’re all in need of a boost.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">“Laughter is the shortest distance between two people.” </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">>Victor Borge,
comedian/pianist<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><br /></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcysbvnbu-0VSyCRSoO9ttmgR27gysZDozU8H-D9ED0T-axWYXNTuZfZQMGJ0dU4QLoEPpJtWiEtWJ-lriEPMOlJEHbLhD9LXkfJiuXdaFljJZ-ynR4v1_Z9LofOQ38im03cVrxiovvFct/s1300/Boys+laughing+with+play+phone.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="1300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcysbvnbu-0VSyCRSoO9ttmgR27gysZDozU8H-D9ED0T-axWYXNTuZfZQMGJ0dU4QLoEPpJtWiEtWJ-lriEPMOlJEHbLhD9LXkfJiuXdaFljJZ-ynR4v1_Z9LofOQ38im03cVrxiovvFct/s320/Boys+laughing+with+play+phone.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><br /> </span><p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="q-text" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">This blog supports https://booksforbondinghearts.com/</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: start;">Please learn more about my newly published children's book, </span><b style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: start;"><i>Will You Hold My Story? - a story about listening, for kids of all ages. You can read customer reviews by visiting </i></b><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><i>https://www.amazon.com/Will-You-Hold-My-Story/</i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-46124521619219131792021-03-16T11:46:00.004-07:002021-03-16T11:52:22.662-07:00Take a Minute<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Some of the most persuasive people I know are the quiet
ones. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Quiet people are a stabilizing influence in a world jangling
with noise.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">A Spanish proverb says it like this: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">abre la boca solo si lo que vas a decir
es más hermoso que el silencio<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p><span style="color: #161616; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">(“Open your mouth only if what you are going to say is
more beautiful than the silence.”)</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p>Silence helps us understand ourselves. We can be fully present and connect
with others. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p>When we are stuck or confused, silence brings us little epiphanies.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Silence can be a life-long friend. But we need to pay attention to it. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p>For some of us, solitude is water to a parched soul; we must have it. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p>For others, solitude is too deep, too sad, too isolating. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><i>But it can be a shared place for
hunkering down and listening.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" class="MsoNormalTable" style="background: white; mso-cellspacing: 1.5pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184; width: 100%px;">
<tbody><tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0;">
<td style="padding: 0.75pt 53.85pt;">
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 9.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 3.0pt; margin: 3pt 0in 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Perhaps the
most important thing we bring to another person is the silence in us, not the
sort of silence that is filled with unspoken criticism or hard withdrawal.
The sort of silence that is a place of refuge, of rest, of acceptance of
someone as they are. We are all hungry for this other silence.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="mso-yfti-irow: 1; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;">
<td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top">
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 20.25pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #767676; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-transform: uppercase;">RACHEL NAOMI REMEN, author<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 20.25pt; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2xbMOcG8hDJ3qx35giqKUmdjnfyzhZZXQixPpWP3mPKjOXaKCINHmgoPb1VIE0Par_Cq0BQXJcbCk6DzCwrW-FIluZdthR5XgYqZeHz2Puwsnxixk1AQI6cPVp_EjbVHjAp6LTPR1yrL/s2000/Bench-Woman-City+Skyline.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2xbMOcG8hDJ3qx35giqKUmdjnfyzhZZXQixPpWP3mPKjOXaKCINHmgoPb1VIE0Par_Cq0BQXJcbCk6DzCwrW-FIluZdthR5XgYqZeHz2Puwsnxixk1AQI6cPVp_EjbVHjAp6LTPR1yrL/s320/Bench-Woman-City+Skyline.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #767676; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-transform: uppercase;"><br /></span><p></p><p>Silence is a patient friend. Waiting always, watching over your comings and
your goings, hoping you will join the hush and wonder.<o:p></o:p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ-9D4yjnfje6wpj01ctCNBMf2w50LaUG-ndgqHgbOUQ4nq0J3i4Zee-6IqEBPxYT4O30XUXopKmznecipbOYrzaiEKmo0jjwiggsY0dMhJBT5xnXNTENlNab4NMVI-DT4QO9qRBZNnnsC/s806/Clock-Stopwatch-Vintage-Artsy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="570" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ-9D4yjnfje6wpj01ctCNBMf2w50LaUG-ndgqHgbOUQ4nq0J3i4Zee-6IqEBPxYT4O30XUXopKmznecipbOYrzaiEKmo0jjwiggsY0dMhJBT5xnXNTENlNab4NMVI-DT4QO9qRBZNnnsC/s320/Clock-Stopwatch-Vintage-Artsy.jpg" /></a></p><div class="WordSection1">
<p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #282829; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Here’s what
happens during <i><u>just one minute</u></i> while you remain quiet:<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>>
255 babies will be born <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> Your Heart
will pump 83 Gallons Of Blood<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #282829; font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> A hummingbird will flap its
wings 4,000 times<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">
<span style="font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">>> 31,600 tons
of water will flow over Niagara Falls</span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> 1,800 stars will explode<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> 4,500
McDonald’s burgers will be eaten<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> UPS will
deliver 11,319 packages <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> 243,000 photos
will be uploaded to Facebook<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> Americans will
Eat 21,000 Slices of Pizza<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> 4,310 people will
visit Amazon<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> Twitter users
will send 347,222 tweets<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print";">>> Uber
passengers will take 694 rides<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">**Research from Pawan Patar<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><a href="http://www.https/artplusmarketing.com/"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif;">www.https://artplusmarketing.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">If this much happens inside the space of 60-seconds, then maybe you
can take a little break.</span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">It’s pretty obvious the world will keep churning if you step away
from it.</span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Take a pause for <i>you.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Notice your own breathing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Consider the hummingbird, who flaps and grabs the nectar.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">We, too, can join that dance.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">We, too, can taste the wonder and the sweetness and come back for
more.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></i></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">We, too, can rest a minute and enjoy the quiet.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtlDgDylFurlK7fHDFC4B_hFuZbsik5XWnNh4nJ2oZib2dQa7AOZhBQPMHSfUqVzTk_ffqLvs-0JH2Ri8JnJBiHGOF32Y2mlw8ZnmG1uYeKkk4MTb9t0MZe6ZXG3_dv7fROp14xDXLmzC4/s1600/hummingbird+-+claudia+ricci+photographer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtlDgDylFurlK7fHDFC4B_hFuZbsik5XWnNh4nJ2oZib2dQa7AOZhBQPMHSfUqVzTk_ffqLvs-0JH2Ri8JnJBiHGOF32Y2mlw8ZnmG1uYeKkk4MTb9t0MZe6ZXG3_dv7fROp14xDXLmzC4/s320/hummingbird+-+claudia+ricci+photographer.jpg" /></a></i></div><i><br /><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Photo credits to Claudia Ricci mystorylives.blogspot.com</span></i></div><div class="WordSection1"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><br /></span></i></div><div class="WordSection1"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><br /></span></i></div><div class="WordSection1"><p></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">This blog supports https://booksforbondinghearts.com/</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: start;">Please visit the link to join my book launch tour, </span><b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: start;"><i>Will You Hold My Story? - a story about listening, for kids of all ages.</i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b><i>https://booksforbondinghearts.com/book-launch-tours/</i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 14.85px; text-align: start;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></p><p class="q-text" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #0a0a0a; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe Print"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">
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<b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #282829; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br clear="all" style="break-before: auto; mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: auto;" />
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</p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #282829; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></b></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #282829; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #282829; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #282829; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span></p></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-28548950703296484712021-02-13T22:36:00.000-08:002021-02-13T22:36:24.375-08:00Bidet Shopping for Dummies<p>On a bright winter Saturday, I got in my car and headed to Lowe's. I welcomed the prospect of shopping in a real store versus online. A freshly laundered mask gave me a little boost of confidence. The sun was shining and it was the weekend. Possibilities seemed endless.</p><p>I was on a mission to find a bidet and install it myself. In less than ten minutes, like the website promised. "A luxury you can afford!" the ad said. "Try the Tushy Classic" advised another consumer blurb.</p><p>I'd just celebrated a 60-something birthday and wanted to mark the occasion with a toilet accessory. I'd been mildly curious about the virtues of the bidet and now I wanted to unravel the mystery. </p><p>It was time.</p><p>Today was The Day.</p><p>What I didn't bargain for, though, was the ordeal I would have finding the doggone gadget. </p><p>Head for Plumbing, I reasoned, steering my cart like I actually knew my way around the big box store of All Things Hardware.</p><p>Finding the toilets and all the accoutrements, I felt sure I could locate the bidet section. The hunt, however, proved elusive. </p><p>I'd have to ask for help.</p><p><i>Discreetly.</i></p><p>Before I could go searching for a red-vested associate, a red-vested associate approached me. A bearded one, with a helpful smile and a booming voice: "May I help you, ma'am?" he thundered. </p><p>I wanted to disappear. </p><p>How could I tell a <i>man </i>I was shopping for a bidet?</p><p>I hadn't figured in the plethora of red-vested men for my plumbing safari.</p><p>"Just browsing, thanks!" I breezily replied.</p><p>Oh, great.</p><p>I'd need a woman for this. A woman would understand these things.</p><p>Steering my cart through the aisle with a million PVC pipes, I persevered until I saw the Customer Service Desk. I waited in line, standing dutifully on the six-feet-apart-X, rehearsing what I would say.</p><p>"Where do you keep the bidets?" I'd say. Like I was asking for cabinet knobs, or area rugs. I'd say it calmly, casually.</p><p>Finally it was my turn at the counter and thankfully, a woman greeted me behind the Covid-issue plastic.</p><p>"Where do you keep the bidets?" I asked. Only, through the cloth mask I wore, it sounded more like, "Whar do you sheep the Big A's".</p><p>"WHAT?" she said through the muffle of her mask, "The filets?"</p><p>I hadn't counted on this. My plans to casually whisper were thwarted. </p><p>WHERE DO YOU KEEP THE BIDETS? I repeated. DO YOU HAVE BIDETS? I shouted through my mask, through the plastic barrier, to the Entire Universe.</p><p>"Oh," she said. </p><p>And then, turning to another female associate, she hollered, "WHERE DO WE KEEP THE BIDETS!"</p><p>This was going downhill fast. I considered disappearing through the floor. Instead, I felt my ears turning red, burning with shame and regret.</p><p>Before I could plan my escape, I heard the female associate tap-tap-tapping her computer screen, determined to hook me up with my very own toilet seat attachment.</p><p>"Aisle 40-B, look for the end cap. We have a couple of different styles."</p><p>Great. </p><p>Pushing my cart through a ridiculous amount of light switches and dimmers, I felt my shopping savvy ebbing away. Now <i>everybody knew why I was there. </i></p><p>When I finally located my quarry, it was a disappointing selection of hand-held sprayers. I wanted a button system, preferably with temperature control. </p><p>They didn't have the one I wanted.</p><p>Defeated and deflated, I pulled my mask down for a quick breath of air. Inhaling a combo of sawdust, oil, paint and testosterone, I headed for the garden department. I just wanted to leave the store with some of my dignity intact.</p><p>I selected a small succulent for my desk at the office.</p><p>At the checkout, I noticed the irony of my huge red cart with just one small plant in the child seat. </p><p>Walking to my car, I promised myself all future bidet-hunting would take place online. </p><p>Thank you very much and have a nice Bid-Day.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSwtyUzcN86EKlx67dKOpG5HSSiX83CeUYl9o9FzNPyXEaMnTLaTgJst1LiEuALyAsWfOTRZCpFkmywfqtE_Rw7RnAls2nI6oFTljkdq8RTubfOdv1f0tOmY5RinMNwlxuGtRhWvtUqRN/s474/Lowe%2527s+red+vest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="474" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSwtyUzcN86EKlx67dKOpG5HSSiX83CeUYl9o9FzNPyXEaMnTLaTgJst1LiEuALyAsWfOTRZCpFkmywfqtE_Rw7RnAls2nI6oFTljkdq8RTubfOdv1f0tOmY5RinMNwlxuGtRhWvtUqRN/s320/Lowe%2527s+red+vest.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://myfreebookgift.com/558/will_you_hold_my_story_landing_page/index.html" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration-line: none;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">https://myfreebookgift.com/558/will_you_hold_my_story_landing_page/index.html</span></a><u><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></u></p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: start;">This blog supports https://booksforbondinghearts.com/</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: start;">Please visit the link to see my latest book launch, </span><b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: start;"><i>Will You Hold My Story? - a book for reading out loud for kids of all ages. </i></b></p></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-9110271917096288372021-01-07T07:23:00.004-08:002021-01-10T07:23:59.644-08:00Coffee Rings and Comfort Zones<p> <span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Your living room is arranged exactly the way you
like it. Now suppose a guest drops in, moves your favorite chair, sits in it,
and puts a damp glass on your favorite wooden table without even bothering to
use a coaster. You might be taken aback, even though you had invited your
friend to make himself at home.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">A similar thing can happen in conversation. Your
precious notions are moved across the room. Someone carelessly leaves a ring on
your wooden beliefs. You find this maddening, even though a conversation is an
invitation to rearrange one’s mental furniture. If a home is perfectly arranged
with no blemish and nothing out of place, it’s probably a show home. No one
lives there.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif;">Beryl
Barclay, Daily Scoldings, copyright 2010</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCsttlIFlbrDWsx3TtDh-M7y94eD19t0mKrdbAUVM7sWjX_d799QrM0PhyNE5HOcwveSmehvbrSisrfFmErbCT5BkKGyf5-tzVObdaQrQPaLdFkJ06w4E82zpPjUH5pYRhqs5R8oWkbnVQ/s2048/Book+to+Scold+Coffee+Table.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCsttlIFlbrDWsx3TtDh-M7y94eD19t0mKrdbAUVM7sWjX_d799QrM0PhyNE5HOcwveSmehvbrSisrfFmErbCT5BkKGyf5-tzVObdaQrQPaLdFkJ06w4E82zpPjUH5pYRhqs5R8oWkbnVQ/s320/Book+to+Scold+Coffee+Table.jpg" /></a></i></div><p class="MsoNormal"><i><i><br /></i></i></p><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif;"><br /></span></i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3K-50RbofNwpO2t4EF_ux0kyzNTE34jwh8NbBg-VlsAdeP-xWMA92AG0uYuQWnaK5De1_mdtEBg7Enn-NdMaLimu9ZBIfNDelKLlTfR3t-qCfybIiGepgJiExdlstwRNur9m_Fve4lS9X/s2048/Daily+Scoldings+Sample+Page.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3K-50RbofNwpO2t4EF_ux0kyzNTE34jwh8NbBg-VlsAdeP-xWMA92AG0uYuQWnaK5De1_mdtEBg7Enn-NdMaLimu9ZBIfNDelKLlTfR3t-qCfybIiGepgJiExdlstwRNur9m_Fve4lS9X/s320/Daily+Scoldings+Sample+Page.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I discovered this salty little book of gentle
chastisements at a friend’s house and immediately went out to buy one for myself.
If you can take the occasional pang of uncomfortable truth, it’s great for your
bedside table. Or maybe a conversation starter, on display in your living room.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjmmutXqa-VeP5Umc_1dl3ylSBbrVoCcZpwUqwWKAZown6EvAbm8ddrtGON1WyFqp7NuEzgDCP6wGg-wRIENVevEkWjM7TsPwj8zISTVMb2os6kpyc0pELUuxyquHK-VkOLUkt9L29-ZBV/s750/Unsplash+Pristine+Living+Room+by+Sidekix+Media.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="750" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjmmutXqa-VeP5Umc_1dl3ylSBbrVoCcZpwUqwWKAZown6EvAbm8ddrtGON1WyFqp7NuEzgDCP6wGg-wRIENVevEkWjM7TsPwj8zISTVMb2os6kpyc0pELUuxyquHK-VkOLUkt9L29-ZBV/s320/Unsplash+Pristine+Living+Room+by+Sidekix+Media.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Now isn’t this a revealing glance into our internal
dialogue? We have a schematic view of how the room should look. Of whom should
believe what, and why. Of where everybody should stand. Of how we insist on the
most attractive pairing of color and texture; the exchange of surface pleasantries,
no discord and thank-you-very-much-for-stopping-in.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">When that visitor leaves, the room looks quite the
same. How much more interesting would it be then, if we invited wild polka dots
into a beige living room? How disarming if we allowed shabby chic throw pillows
against a palette of unwrinkled monotony?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;">It’s possible – someone may leave a coffee ring on
your polished opinions. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchCcuhfilDjJeQDzBa2C8s_aO3WycxLIffyPv43lvw-AXgyCQSFTeqihQ9fG16qIaKuSTAtqxVo4_VoO2RY1kwI-QBgKFgAaiEskktn2b4dROGF9TQyLZgeY62X0kbWMoYLYoSnov9fAn/s474/Coffee+Ring.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="316" data-original-width="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchCcuhfilDjJeQDzBa2C8s_aO3WycxLIffyPv43lvw-AXgyCQSFTeqihQ9fG16qIaKuSTAtqxVo4_VoO2RY1kwI-QBgKFgAaiEskktn2b4dROGF9TQyLZgeY62X0kbWMoYLYoSnov9fAn/s320/Coffee+Ring.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Let that be an invitation to an honest conversation.
<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Listen now. Rearrange later. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Bring the cream, stir, and relax.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Or you may decide to keep the room in its more
cluttered state -- the look is more lived-in, and the welcome is real. Shoes
are kicked off; feet are propped comfortably on the sofa.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">How many of us have tip-toed into an immaculate
house, unsure of where to put our things or how best to vanish into the
woodwork?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">We want to avoid rearranging the space with our
messy ideas, our unique impressions of life. We become beige, conforming to
what’s already in the room.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">We depart unchallenged and unheard, blending into
the vanilla-flavored world outside. Conversations are safe but brittle.
Predictable but dull. Pleasant but sadly lacking in spice and flavor.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Recently I enjoyed the generous hospitality of
friends around a table of plenty. By “plenty” I mean tasty food, thoughtful discussion
and raucous laughter. Our words blended and spilled, mixing themselves into
affirmations of life: what we think matters and what we say is worthy of hearing.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Instead of comparing this boisterous exchange to my
ultra-quiet life in my tiny apartment, I choose something else: I will opt into
hosting more, holing up less. I choose hospitality over perfection, invitations
over hesitation, spontaneity over well-executed planning. The menu will be simple,
and I hope our blended words will be the tastiest of morsels.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">In this new year of blank pages waiting to be
filled, I hope I will color outside the lines.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I hope you will, too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Trust your tribe – your pod – your friends. They
already welcome you with open arms. Speak your truth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">In less familiar situations and more structured
rooms, try scooting the furniture around a bit. The results will be refreshing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Coffee with Kathy<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Inspired by Messy,
Meaningful Conversation<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://myfreebookgift.com/558/will_you_hold_my_story_landing_page/index.html"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">https://myfreebookgift.com/558/will_you_hold_my_story_landing_page/index.html</span></a><u><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></u></p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: start;">This blog supports https://booksforbondinghearts.com/</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: start;">Please visit the link to see my latest book launch, </span><b style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: start;"><i>Will You Hold My Story? - a book for reading out loud for kids of all ages. </i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></p></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif;"></span></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><i><br /><br /></i><p></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-41181863218866143412020-11-02T13:49:00.000-08:002020-11-02T13:49:54.246-08:00The Trouble with Dogs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBvmfuTraXz6103q-aatv0HnsYMSZrkQMwTVqSHeYhZJURs45VqYWCan9bypFGuOdvsxPN8xVewmnIpOu7WUygUHwBLbGsjUzWf8di7FuVgMzLCaaV7V_P9eWcH71gNfUnqKyXno1kHejU/s452/paw+prints.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="452" data-original-width="236" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBvmfuTraXz6103q-aatv0HnsYMSZrkQMwTVqSHeYhZJURs45VqYWCan9bypFGuOdvsxPN8xVewmnIpOu7WUygUHwBLbGsjUzWf8di7FuVgMzLCaaV7V_P9eWcH71gNfUnqKyXno1kHejU/s320/paw+prints.jpg" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 16px;">The gift of connection is fraught with the grief of separation.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">Simply put, we
outlive our dogs, and it’s just not fair.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">When I met my dog
for the first time and knew she would become my companion, there was an element
of loss in the joyful mix; I did not feel it, could not have identified it at
the time. But there was a wiggly layer of sadness inside our first meeting, and
that niggling thread would follow us through the five years I had her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">The grief would grow
more insistent the day the vet told me my girl had Canine Degenerative
Myelopathy, a condition which would cause some pain and possible paralysis in
her hindquarters.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">The sting of losing
her this way, in slow dribbles, tracked us like a cold shadow. Our walks became
shorter. She accepted my help getting into the car, out of the car, up the
steps, into the apartment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">Many things were the
same, but even the familiar rituals felt short-lived, more precious. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">Brief walks along
the lakeshore, lurching along like a couple of mellowed oldsters, just sniffing
the breeze and hoping for polished beach glass along the way.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">Lots of treats. More
than necessary.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">Head pats, ear scratches,
belly rubs. Little luxuries to ease the pain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">Small affirmations
whispered into a world of <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">gifts and goodbyes, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">homecomings and
heartaches, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">rescuing and relinquishing, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">mending and
mourning.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">I lost her in
February.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">In March, the world
shut down. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">The emptiness in my
apartment became a thundering silence; a constant reminder of
she’s-not-here-anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">The sequester was deeply
solitary for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">It’s been good to
return to the office. The place is far from “normal days”, but still there are
ripples of laughter. There is kindness. A sense of endurance, of pulling
together.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">It’s been a strange
journey this year. I’m doubly sorry I’ve had to traverse it without my sweet
girl, Reina.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHqYNt5V7US3jrs_ZigGKkGJ4T5JAre8W8u_XVJCHQiRrDZFolgyaDQOK1oFgzi0FEakHSwOWVA0-LBJbuDCAqkTT8TFngfGs5HHMCzvRMNHoDZLXIjJhM0VHCkOhH_IqeBMyJwctv6YJ/s846/REINA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="846" data-original-width="601" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHqYNt5V7US3jrs_ZigGKkGJ4T5JAre8W8u_XVJCHQiRrDZFolgyaDQOK1oFgzi0FEakHSwOWVA0-LBJbuDCAqkTT8TFngfGs5HHMCzvRMNHoDZLXIjJhM0VHCkOhH_IqeBMyJwctv6YJ/s320/REINA.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Ink Free"; font-size: 21.3333px; text-align: left;">“Reina”</span></div><br />Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-82586296061905511212020-10-28T09:13:00.000-07:002020-10-28T09:13:01.109-07:00Rx for Rest<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #444340; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444340; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvs-hknxLMQyY0ygqCAJ8kwj0SxtGd0gbEiS6wjLJuEgm391lSnB5J8k8QG5VZaS34zIoQoOUU_dxIhDX0_fyGFHPenbiXxZnjG68r1p091iXQeCNSGEKayqn0X8vuLYuO3e21m7t7EOrc/s1650/Ah+Autumn+Harvest+Page.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvs-hknxLMQyY0ygqCAJ8kwj0SxtGd0gbEiS6wjLJuEgm391lSnB5J8k8QG5VZaS34zIoQoOUU_dxIhDX0_fyGFHPenbiXxZnjG68r1p091iXQeCNSGEKayqn0X8vuLYuO3e21m7t7EOrc/s320/Ah+Autumn+Harvest+Page.jpeg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #444340; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />Harvests are mostly gathered and stored for winter by now.
Unbelievably, Thanksgiving will be here soon.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #444340; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We will
celebrate Abundance and gather in the fruits of our farming community’s labors.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our tables will stagger under the weight of Plenty; traditions
will keep us grounded during the niggling uncertainty that is Covid.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3" class="MsoNormalTable" style="border-bottom: solid #EEEEEE 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid #EEEEEE .75pt; mso-cellspacing: 1.5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184; width: 614px;">
<tbody><tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;">
<td style="border-top: solid #EEEEEE 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-top-alt: solid #EEEEEE .75pt; padding: 4.8pt;" valign="bottom">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i>What gets lost in the thrill of costumes, bags of sweets, traditions, then the whipping of Thanksgiving spuds and cranberry sauce, is the
season of rest to follow.</i></span><span style="font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I didn’t really want to mention it, but Winter is coming – this
season of slumbering bears and soft flannel; an interval of climbing in and
hunkering down.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dormant crops will pause beneath the frozen earth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It’s a time for rest, a well-deserved respite for planters,
reapers and gatherers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Symbolically, we’re all in the business of planting, reaping and
gathering.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRVOUwD55LBgqLMkUh5c_imZRQKDTzMzeRPN-_2v8yVQw39pna6g5AFLeyFBVIpKD30tKpITmNo-9c0UUpb4uWSnIkTRFAnf_5Sn9qtBd3ZU2GfTR1gO2lwLQudWDxXkox6yPtpLLRFLd/s1650/Ah+Autumn+wood+pile.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRVOUwD55LBgqLMkUh5c_imZRQKDTzMzeRPN-_2v8yVQw39pna6g5AFLeyFBVIpKD30tKpITmNo-9c0UUpb4uWSnIkTRFAnf_5Sn9qtBd3ZU2GfTR1gO2lwLQudWDxXkox6yPtpLLRFLd/s320/Ah+Autumn+wood+pile.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Seems logical, then, that we should plan for rest, and lean into
it like a comfy quilt.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But we don’t.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rest, in our industrious, git ‘er done culture, is the Last Stop
on a Fast Track.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In some ways, the year 2020 has forced many of us to rest from
something, open our hands, wear some masks, separate from all the parties and
associations of labor, and receive something very new. Some new growth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New perspective. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">New value. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">New understanding.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rest is too often frowned upon, equated with “lazy”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That’s just sad. I know a woman who never tells her mother that
she has been reading for hours, or drawing, or quietly designing something. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This would be frowned upon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What’s worse is, we often feel guilty for getting some downtime
when there’s so much yet to cross off the daunting To-Do List.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">People who own their own company rarely get to just shut down
and go to the beach for a week. Others feel their vacation time must be spent
with family when they would rather explore a mountain retreat alone. Is that
kind of vacation commitment more productive?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Give yourself permission to relax. Schedule downtime and honor
that impulse to shut all the clamoring needs out. As a colleague is fond of
saying, “You’re not lazy – you’re spent!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She’s right — we’re operating on two cylinders and still hoping to
put more miles on before bedtime.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Are.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 19.2pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Spent.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #444340; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">No judgement here.</span></i><span face=""Source Sans Pro",sans-serif" style="color: #444340; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #444340; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">You can’t serve from an empty
vessel.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #444340; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">This blog supports </span><a href="http://www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop" style="color: #6699cc; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: none;">www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop</a><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">, timely gifts for all seasons. Please visit the link to see my seasonal books, the "Breath of Joy! series. Breath of Joy! Ah, Autumn celebrates the robust season of fall and Breath of Joy! Winter Whispers throws a memory quilt over your grateful shoulders!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggoJwt1-J0WVZcyp0jsEnja_BoHdaVHH-o4SBfme5belU1r9ZZAj7LKbSLnRaMDMNHx7NeF7JV7HwXLqXn2-OPvrGfL-hKffXZGy_42-OFdH0BDaoFS_NswltBCLf1d8agKJzmNnaosijU/s2400/Winter+Whispers+Rev1+For+Promo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="2400" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggoJwt1-J0WVZcyp0jsEnja_BoHdaVHH-o4SBfme5belU1r9ZZAj7LKbSLnRaMDMNHx7NeF7JV7HwXLqXn2-OPvrGfL-hKffXZGy_42-OFdH0BDaoFS_NswltBCLf1d8agKJzmNnaosijU/w320-h125/Winter+Whispers+Rev1+For+Promo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-79109522490415629522020-10-04T21:03:00.002-07:002020-10-04T21:03:54.611-07:00Buddy and the Last Great Chase<p>"I think I'm dying," I confided to my editor.</p><p>"What?! Why?" she wanted to know.</p><p>"Because I'm having a really productive writing season. This might be my last gasp."</p><p>She wasn't having it. Not any of it. </p><p>"Please let me explain," I said. </p><p>And I told her about Buddy the cat.</p><p>Buddy, an orange tabby, became my parents' house cat after a hardscrabble start in a litter behind the barn. </p><p>Buddy grew into a well-fed member of the household, but he kept his hunting prowess intact, occasionally depositing a dead chipmunk at the back door for all to admire.</p><p>For the most part, though, Buddy was domesticated. Pampered. Neither affectionate nor mean, Buddy just blended in. Other than a chin scratch now and then, he kept to himself, alternately sleeping and staring out the front window.</p><p>He did develop a fondness for Morgan, my great-niece, and the two of them were pals through all the years and seasons.</p><p>When Buddy grew quite elderly and thin, Morgan began to grieve. </p><p>That's when he surprised us all with a final hunting tour that netted dozens of chipmunks.</p><p>Buddy would hunker down in the back yard and wait patiently, pouncing with precision and skill. Those critters thought they could outsmart Buddy, but they didn't stand a chance.</p><p>Not that summer.</p><p>His last summer.</p><p>One day he stopped eating. He became weaker. My folks noticed he would drink water, but he was not interested in food. His singular mission, day after day, was to vanquish the chipmunk population in the entire county. Hell bent and spring-loaded, Buddy piled up the chippies like little trophies, there on the back porch.</p><p>It was weird; that cat was enjoying his most productive season as a hunter. He was wasting away physically, but he had the stamina of a young feline on the prowl. </p><p>It was a good run. Another chippie, another victory lap.</p><p>This went on for most of that summer.</p><p>And then he died.</p><p>Morgan was beside herself - it was hard to watch her mourn, after seeing the two of them grow up together.</p><p>"So this is why I think maybe I'm dying," I explained, after I told the story of Buddy the cat.</p><p>"I'm somehow cranking out a blog a day for my work."</p><p>"Basically I'm bringing chipmunks to the back door and it's been a really good run.</p><p>I must be at the end," I lamented.</p><p>There was laughter on the other end of the phone line.</p><p>Laughter!</p><p>She thought the analogy was a real stretch. When she came up for air, she said, "When you write something, it should not be viewed as an ending. It's an arrival. Just keep going on that journey."</p><p><i>I'm not at the end, I'm at the threshold.</i></p><p><i>I'm not Buddy-the-chipmunk-slayer. </i></p><p><i>I'm Kathy, the word-chaser.</i></p><p><i>I chase after words and I carry them to the door, hoping upon hope I can write them down and give them to a reader who needs them.</i></p><p>Poor sweet old Buddy. He had a job to do and he did it like a champion. Even at an age when nobody thought he had it in him.</p><p>I think I'll learn from his blazing exit, and from my editor's sage advice: Keep showing up. Find the words; wait for them and pounce with precision and skill.</p><p>Write them down.</p><p>Wake up tomorrow. And do it all over again.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8Ppo_E-ZaOqp17iw3irEZ4fYDsXFKIpR8bqAGwGmZw16k-OEikZ2I_Zcf1iBAsfIiXqzxY2V5y9mEr1BN9g8kV7-FZaie4glV7zAT77L5Wb55PMXn0BKPYBVv9UuRrNU5FUp1W-JA2qG/s400/Watercolor+Tabby-original-art-painting-by-Mary-King.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8Ppo_E-ZaOqp17iw3irEZ4fYDsXFKIpR8bqAGwGmZw16k-OEikZ2I_Zcf1iBAsfIiXqzxY2V5y9mEr1BN9g8kV7-FZaie4glV7zAT77L5Wb55PMXn0BKPYBVv9UuRrNU5FUp1W-JA2qG/s320/Watercolor+Tabby-original-art-painting-by-Mary-King.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC4Dp3sdTwdSVq_G-rM-mNcsPq31fk38RDtwzi7CUW5PeLtfcvduE1buf2kNbK487f9Ubq3B3WXnkTrM0sRuZ3hWQBWAQz-6nnq-_qAwAHcSmuTrbf9OdSu-rkncvj6fuzywbc76aeupij/s257/Quill+and+Ink-woman-writing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="196" data-original-width="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC4Dp3sdTwdSVq_G-rM-mNcsPq31fk38RDtwzi7CUW5PeLtfcvduE1buf2kNbK487f9Ubq3B3WXnkTrM0sRuZ3hWQBWAQz-6nnq-_qAwAHcSmuTrbf9OdSu-rkncvj6fuzywbc76aeupij/s0/Quill+and+Ink-woman-writing.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><a href="http://coffeewithkathy.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #15b6b8; font-family: "Source Sans Pro", Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Kathy Joy</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #444340; font-family: "Source Sans Pro", Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">, wordsmith, event speaker</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 18px;"><span style="color: #444340; font-family: Source Sans Pro, Helvetica, sans-serif;">https://booksforbondinghearts.com/</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIsibLxFxyJZ7Wwf1mQuviBnWTHAdJHadrfUF6OQKkXSrVlphVnqu0D1-fcdaQ09WKQqOhNHRS7KMAJHxMu6twv4QiueMAXcgtIX2EcfS4tBqErvtQ7hYaF2glWwGvWTrgOWQMSr8yBmr6/s463/Ah%252C+Autumn+Book+Cover+Photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="380" data-original-width="463" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIsibLxFxyJZ7Wwf1mQuviBnWTHAdJHadrfUF6OQKkXSrVlphVnqu0D1-fcdaQ09WKQqOhNHRS7KMAJHxMu6twv4QiueMAXcgtIX2EcfS4tBqErvtQ7hYaF2glWwGvWTrgOWQMSr8yBmr6/s320/Ah%252C+Autumn+Book+Cover+Photo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-53084351124172136292020-08-31T13:25:00.005-07:002020-08-31T13:31:53.988-07:00Why Am I So Angry?<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: georgia;">Has anybody else noticed it? The anger?</span></p><div class="WordSection1">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: georgia; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I thought I had my emotions in check until some guy cut me off in
traffic. That did it. Within minutes, along the same road, a grown adult
bicyclist swerved into my lane. I swung wide to avoid hitting him. <i>Has
everybody on wheels lost their driving skills? What is happening!<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: georgia; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">There’s an edge of irritation creeping into our voices. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: georgia; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">There’s a thinner layer between civility and rage.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">But why now – after all these months of adapting, merging, learning,
accepting and forging ahead?</span><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;"><o:p style="font-size: 12pt;"></o:p></span></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifTSn4XZaMvlpmgNaPYj1W6ktkE9CYp09bZ5zJmsqTfEqI1Bva_T8ggFcMZVSlxN-AGwiwVPToKe_vwdvPXa9KD5QRbGdLY8c8OtFsP98OoZaXcG7Ugei5-H7zony75pA9kWSA2e1-hmNU/s951/Unsplash+Road-Fog+by+Katie+Moum.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="951" data-original-width="634" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifTSn4XZaMvlpmgNaPYj1W6ktkE9CYp09bZ5zJmsqTfEqI1Bva_T8ggFcMZVSlxN-AGwiwVPToKe_vwdvPXa9KD5QRbGdLY8c8OtFsP98OoZaXcG7Ugei5-H7zony75pA9kWSA2e1-hmNU/s640/Unsplash+Road-Fog+by+Katie+Moum.jpg" /></a></div><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Unsplash photo by Katie Moum</span></div>
<div class="WordSection2">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Maybe that’s just it: we’ve been twisting ourselves into the
uncomfortable seasons of Covid and it feels like a long road into an uncertain
future.</span></p></div><div class="WordSection3">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #111111; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Freestyle Script"; font-size: 28pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Profound Uncertainty<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOXpBvEMaLY_B5pn02hyphenhyphen3FgpaA0-AEq2bc3h9ViJe65UF8t15YKt1pvibqCcUayNwB1A56uJpo0apqg8zaUMr_kNJXJD9Qj8Y6WRy7CI5TWPFD8uZAQQ4oQdPmE3wPZVG_7iMxZh4f4yf/s860/Confusion+-+Person+-+Silhouette.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="618" data-original-width="860" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOXpBvEMaLY_B5pn02hyphenhyphen3FgpaA0-AEq2bc3h9ViJe65UF8t15YKt1pvibqCcUayNwB1A56uJpo0apqg8zaUMr_kNJXJD9Qj8Y6WRy7CI5TWPFD8uZAQQ4oQdPmE3wPZVG_7iMxZh4f4yf/w410-h294/Confusion+-+Person+-+Silhouette.png" width="410" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;">There’s a new term floating around these days: Profound Uncertainty.</span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>We are trying to plan our days, yet we are measuring what we don’t know.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">It’s annoying.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We try to be nice.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Being kind, doing good, is usually not that hard – but it’s really
difficult in a hostile world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I had a meltdown in the Aldi’s parking lot, when I realized my container
of fresh mozzarella cheese was sliced open. Water was dripping everywhere, onto
my flip-flopped feet, into my car. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I became angry at everything. The normal way of exchanging a product was
now complicated further by putting on the mask, going back in and waiting in a
line dotted by 6-foot gaps.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">But really, the anger didn’t come from a broken package of cheese – it
sprung up and erupted from the sleeping volcano inside – the hot lava had
reached the out-spout and out-it-spouted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Thing is…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">the<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">world <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">was <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">uncertain <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">before Covid. <o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Still, what we’re now experiencing is deeper and more ambiguous, with no
visible end.</span></p></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_s2qWoOaVE1M4CXs4Aa0XjY0kkfmMA_PihaVe7oEHiUqypgmK7h64nJCi_THOggpBZT8vgRSIxhmJ-zVKP27Ogbv3H98vl3LXmzebExXDJMIUP84hRHWfqnlzbE0XcEVyqN4Xev8gC5C/s1050/UNSPLASH+Person+on+Bench+by+water+by+Mark+Timberlake.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1050" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_s2qWoOaVE1M4CXs4Aa0XjY0kkfmMA_PihaVe7oEHiUqypgmK7h64nJCi_THOggpBZT8vgRSIxhmJ-zVKP27Ogbv3H98vl3LXmzebExXDJMIUP84hRHWfqnlzbE0XcEVyqN4Xev8gC5C/s640/UNSPLASH+Person+on+Bench+by+water+by+Mark+Timberlake.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; text-align: left;">Photo by Mark Timberlake</span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Is there a way to manage our irritation?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Think of the positive things,” my mom is always saying. This helps, but
only until we spill the cheese-water. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Maybe, just maybe -- we need to stop pushing down the negative emotions.
Start running toward our feelings, not away from them. Quit pretending we have
it all together. Start accepting that we feel messed up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">It’s time to be REAL. In those scary, uncovered moments, we can sit in a
huddle and say, “me too!” and float each other lots of grace.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“You get a free pass!” the mechanic said to me, after my inspection sticker
had long-since expired. It was as though he’d handed me a gift: a free pass for
procrastination, for forgetfulness, for being stuck in a weird time-loop; he
floated me some grace.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Let’s be authentic and let the hot lava gush out. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Once released, there’s more room for joy; for adapting; for doing the
next uncomfortable thing.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“It’s good to do uncomfortable
things</span></strong><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">. </span><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">It’s weight training for life.” >></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: x-small;">Anne Lamott</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"></span></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 15.8895px;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">This blog supports </span><a href="http://www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop" style="color: #6699cc; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: none;">www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop</a><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">, timely gifts for all seasons. Please visit the link to see my seasonal books, the "Breath of Joy! series. Breath of Joy! Ah, Autumn celebrates the robust season of fall.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><br /></span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-55014168259782166792020-08-27T13:47:00.003-07:002020-08-27T17:35:02.323-07:00Death By Despair<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><a name="_Hlk49341925"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #34383c; letter-spacing: 0.7pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It’s the thing we don’t like to talk
about: Despair</span></span></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a name="_Hlk49341925"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #34383c; letter-spacing: 0.7pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></a><a href="https://breakpoint.org/breakpoint-the-so-called-deaths-of-despair/">https://breakpoint.org/breakpoint-the-so-called-deaths-of-despair/</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341925;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">America,
by most accounts, is a loneliness-producing machine. We seem to have a deeply
rooted sense of individualism. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341925;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">When
help is offered, we often detach. We detach, even when everything inside us is
screaming for rescue.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341925;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“I’m
fine,” we quickly say, when asked how we’re doing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341925;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“I’m
fine” is a reflex; a façade over our brokenness; a get-out-of-jail-free card
for those of us who don’t want to be trapped inside a bubble of compassion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341925;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Because
it’s scary to reveal our broken bits – we might be judged or categorized.
Examined. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341925;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Minimalized. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341925;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Misunderstood. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341925;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Excluded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341925;"></span>
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><a name="_Hlk49341959"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It’s just too risky to
go there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341959;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Detachment,
then, is our Go-To mechanism. Mix in Covid-19, and you have Detachment-plus-Isolation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341959;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Add Depression to that equation, and you have the perfect storm.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk49341959;"></span>
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Why am I bringing this up? Why today?<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Because 12 years ago today, a loved one died. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The coroner said it was his heart. I think it was
Despair that took him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Silently, he endured hardships and disappointments. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Bravely, he soldiered forward under the burden of
family betrayal, misplaced anger, being marginalized by the people he loved.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He did not take his life, but Despair claimed him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He was my husband.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">His name is Roger and his memory is a daily gift to
my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfFy36v7chWA7MY1QqOa2iqUKdfYGi3B69Lh84_PtUDIGykqds8hJf_mU6VWqbot-5dxTI9DhJnDstDP0Wygd5cWswZ_2lyhGrnBbOzWTRquFMmHOVHwYpkialX98lse43508bTK2pr7M4/s650/heart+on+barn.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfFy36v7chWA7MY1QqOa2iqUKdfYGi3B69Lh84_PtUDIGykqds8hJf_mU6VWqbot-5dxTI9DhJnDstDP0Wygd5cWswZ_2lyhGrnBbOzWTRquFMmHOVHwYpkialX98lse43508bTK2pr7M4/s640/heart+on+barn.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Roger’s life is an affirmation of my own life, and
his easy laughter lingers when I’m really listening, leaning into a zephyr
breeze.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">His voice is waiting inside little emotional pockets
of surprise and discovery.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">His mannerisms will often materialize in a family
member or even a stranger – the way he would stand out back and survey the farm property, jamming
his thumbs into his belt loops.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">If I see a package of red Twizzlers, I think of him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">When I hear a guy whistling … I remember Roger’s full-bodied,
vigorous whistling.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">When I see a hay wagon staggering under the weight
of stacked bales, I think of him; when a newly-mown hayfield lifts its potent aroma to
my nostrils, I want to cry.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">And tractors. Especially tractors. His favorite mode
of transportation, his getaway car, his chariot. When I see a tractor, a red
one, I time-travel to our wooded acreage on top of a hill in the middle of
Nowhere.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He loved Twizzlers and salted cashews. He ate mounds
of mashed potatoes and he could make the best burritos on the planet; to this
day, the girls and I cannot duplicate them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Memories are the two-sided coin of warmth and chill,
of comfort and alarm, of strength and instability.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Memories both tether and detach, all in one salty heave.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A loose thread has been hanging from my memories
during his aching, gaping absence, and this year – the 12<sup>th</sup>
anniversary of his Abrupt Departure – is the year I have finally untangled that
thread.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">And the answer is Despair. It’s been quietly revealing
itself to me over the past decade in soft, elusive waves. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">This year, the veil has lifted, and I am peering
into the Truth, the raw certainty of it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Roger was of German descent, and the stoicism was
strongly rooted in him; he kept quiet about the things that bothered him. He
had the appearance of a giant who could carry any burden with ease.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">But then.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A growing Pile of Disappointments crushed his heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A thundering Echo of Indifference bounced back from
his own siblings, and it just wore him out, trying to fathom the shrugs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Some political maneuvering resulted in misunderstandings, costing him a job he loved.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">That day, the day he resigned, I watched the air go out of him; his resolve collapsing.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I watched it all unfolding. I saw, as he whistled
less, laughed rarely.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The thing is, you can’t just rush to the scene and
rescue someone in the grip of Despair.
It creeps into a person with artful, crooked maneuvers. It whispers inside a
person’s head so faintly, we hardly notice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Despair claims a life in small bits, and these bits
gather momentum while we go about our daily business.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">But I noticed the shades, the hints, the shadows of
letting go. After 23 years inside the sanctity of marriage, a spouse knows.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">We had recently talked, long and deep, about our
family, our dreams. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Both Roger and I had just gotten new jobs, and there
was a flutter of optimism there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Inside of a summer twilight, the two of us had heaved hay bales onto a wagon, rushing under the fading daylight. We lingered in the orange-pink glow of a hilltop sunset.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I now see all these singular moments as treasures:
little gems sparkling in the midst of our everyday living and paying the bills
and picking up the girls from school.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">These moments are my beach glass, my time-worn,
wave-tossed fragments. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I couldn’t save him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He didn’t want to leave us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Despair finally ran out of storage space in his
great big heart, and it just stopped beating.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The death certificate says “acute aortic occlusion” –
the clinical term for “massive heart attack”. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I was the one who found him, awkwardly slumped over
on the sofa, the TV remote still in his hand; he’d been watching Gunsmoke.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It seems fitting that Roger, a career Peace Officer, should be watching
Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshall, preserving law and order in the western frontier.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Sergeant Hoffner and Marshall Dillon were cut from the same cloth:
decent men, larger-than-life, lovers of justice, loyal to the very end.</span><span face=""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DHy4kPaw5AQZ-Ewh8-WjfbiUk0FpwqI81OqFAWrigUiLbZmFmjfxqFBZrPUeATACRwO4LK8qEYl3cDvNCj31P-sY3pZ94BOM04yF_KWva2JI_xc6YGKT9Hcpbp6jcnpk6o0XvlJme5FB/s225/Badge.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DHy4kPaw5AQZ-Ewh8-WjfbiUk0FpwqI81OqFAWrigUiLbZmFmjfxqFBZrPUeATACRwO4LK8qEYl3cDvNCj31P-sY3pZ94BOM04yF_KWva2JI_xc6YGKT9Hcpbp6jcnpk6o0XvlJme5FB/s0/Badge.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-20247182893961159892020-07-19T10:59:00.001-07:002020-07-19T11:05:15.512-07:00Ordinary Today<br />
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Everyone’s
talking about the “New Normal”. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s
important, though, to remember the former elements of “normal”
are still with us, if we will only take a minute to notice.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There’s
a quote that’s traveled with me for a long time. It’s on my
fridge:</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Normal
Day,</b></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Do
not let me pass you by in search of some Rare and Perfect Tomorrow.”</b></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>>Mary
Jean Iron</b></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This
power-packed memento has been a mainstay through all of life’s
seasons. With every move, every new fridge, this little saying is a visual reminder of the splendor in ordinary moments. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
little moments are ever-present while we sigh and long for:</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Brighter
tomorrows, </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">better sleep, </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">happier children, </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">perfectly manicured lawns, </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">stronger connections, </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">brighter lighting, </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">exotic destinations, </span></span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: medium;">flawless skin, </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">shinier memories…</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Here’s
the thing. When we are off chasing after a happier reality, the one
we’re IN is quietly passing us by.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
not asking you to embrace The Summer of Covid, but I am suggesting
you uncover the good stuff inside this odd interval.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Your
“normal” will look different than mine.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Here’s
mine:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
texture of my kiddo’s voice on the phone; it doesn’t matter what
we’re talking about – the sound of her voice is life-affirming.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
smell of towels that have been line-dried in fresh air and sunshine.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6c601rCtVagJTNrypZBA0-WYCgXYvIfr7QmgIn40QpQKAFTn4sUeUtlffg1AC8t3Mh3bXAPJjh2gO8jc7I99iWYPTuqHlavq-RJCwSbkPHvAozrcVGP7yKb_wiuXva612an_CReJQVVP/s1600/Towels+Line+Dried.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="499" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6c601rCtVagJTNrypZBA0-WYCgXYvIfr7QmgIn40QpQKAFTn4sUeUtlffg1AC8t3Mh3bXAPJjh2gO8jc7I99iWYPTuqHlavq-RJCwSbkPHvAozrcVGP7yKb_wiuXva612an_CReJQVVP/s320/Towels+Line+Dried.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: medium; text-align: start;">Summer kids riding by my window on their bikes and skate boards.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdmuP7bsDTv6qprbTY_6HVQnGe9T_fMy_KJOslgmYC3Tu_hCxQZ20QHMowhWUotuszv3KEOjYiV2xw4UBEAbYFqHfg3GrwQMc38dgzggJNxL8BYN6EMRr11bzztzyU6fpJhq5HxWGyaTkJ/s1600/Bicycle-pink-girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="329" data-original-width="340" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdmuP7bsDTv6qprbTY_6HVQnGe9T_fMy_KJOslgmYC3Tu_hCxQZ20QHMowhWUotuszv3KEOjYiV2xw4UBEAbYFqHfg3GrwQMc38dgzggJNxL8BYN6EMRr11bzztzyU6fpJhq5HxWGyaTkJ/s200/Bicycle-pink-girl.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: medium; text-align: start;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dandelions
gone to seed.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM-lOor9f96UmKs7EsXdDpyol6hwFqIiV0UmYBvuvrLKuassVthgNHP0-qvo8kIwkfDKCmYYuTEddsuhQ8nZu580UaeHV0XIIltVPfnNbLOHzVP0pg3ubQT4rLnzqE47OwXhXvhDcuilcM/s1600/Dandelion-clip-art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="591" data-original-width="627" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM-lOor9f96UmKs7EsXdDpyol6hwFqIiV0UmYBvuvrLKuassVthgNHP0-qvo8kIwkfDKCmYYuTEddsuhQ8nZu580UaeHV0XIIltVPfnNbLOHzVP0pg3ubQT4rLnzqE47OwXhXvhDcuilcM/s320/Dandelion-clip-art.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: medium;">Old
Glory rippling in the breeze.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6CzuSRv9tck6KqUiHF1jnCrjEJYzZc42QpZGQmiRsxLJR7PhBhvNNeeCtTmqEO1m4PjbGolXfkmFKZfxQpjrKKZvYYok1aRWITDfBskwGTQUx2afaOc_u9VT16NbnMSdeO6M37X9a0KT/s1600/Flag-American-Porch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="427" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6CzuSRv9tck6KqUiHF1jnCrjEJYzZc42QpZGQmiRsxLJR7PhBhvNNeeCtTmqEO1m4PjbGolXfkmFKZfxQpjrKKZvYYok1aRWITDfBskwGTQUx2afaOc_u9VT16NbnMSdeO6M37X9a0KT/s320/Flag-American-Porch.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
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</div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That
first sip of coffee, waking to sunlight, the hypnotic hum of a
lawnmower, a real letter in the mail, curbside pickup, silence, my
music </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">jam, fireflies.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMkHb-_Lfw5cpaiIED1sTQMLBcwXqhPYI5ev254JZx5210pe_MAfCSe54vw6MWNTFt_GGySHbI-oYmU7Xr0kSeyTOYPRjhFRtE5kkLZYcW6tPxyUnHTR69yGZ2XiqUFoZDOvlU-1MirCv0/s1600/Dandelion-in-Dusk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="735" data-original-width="1087" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMkHb-_Lfw5cpaiIED1sTQMLBcwXqhPYI5ev254JZx5210pe_MAfCSe54vw6MWNTFt_GGySHbI-oYmU7Xr0kSeyTOYPRjhFRtE5kkLZYcW6tPxyUnHTR69yGZ2XiqUFoZDOvlU-1MirCv0/s320/Dandelion-in-Dusk.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The
whisper of dusk</i></span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 107%;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Not
everything is a joy-bringer; some things are a slog through scary
passages. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But
still – not everything is skewed into some narrow margin of “the
New Normal”.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
can always count on the ordinary things to fill our hearts.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And
those will sustain us.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 107%;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.85px;">This blog supports </span><a href="http://www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop" style="background-color: white; color: #6699cc; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: none;">www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.85px;">, timely gifts for all seasons. Please visit the link to see my seasonal books, the "Breath of Joy! series. Breath of Joy! Simply Summer is a favorite lounge & browse this time of year.</span></div>
<br />Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-48255177843391180142020-06-25T08:10:00.002-07:002020-06-25T08:19:52.717-07:00Rain Washed Air<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Don’t you just love the smell of rain? </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-fqbU1A_KCtKZgh7KLOC0ydoM4oic1JG_V2yBs7vd2Kzdnb3mYWjHcnCj-r3wUz2pPMVa8B77aMooCrTQldyEOAaBhkbd4q9QgMXAI761Du-AR2SAsnV2pgd-y9f0lun0ARdMv2sp4CA/s1600/jordan-whitt-FKBg2JNYFFc-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-fqbU1A_KCtKZgh7KLOC0ydoM4oic1JG_V2yBs7vd2Kzdnb3mYWjHcnCj-r3wUz2pPMVa8B77aMooCrTQldyEOAaBhkbd4q9QgMXAI761Du-AR2SAsnV2pgd-y9f0lun0ARdMv2sp4CA/s320/jordan-whitt-FKBg2JNYFFc-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Rain when it’s being held in the air – that pungent whiff of earth and
sky mingled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Rain after it has drenched the ground and started laughing rivulets in
drain pipes, streams and driveways.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Rain as it pulls itself upward, trailing the skies to the next
cloudburst party.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Rain in all its delirious, delightful forms: sprinkles, dribbles, droplets,
exclamation points, sloppy blobs of hydration on our faces, our skin, our
grateful noggins.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>Rain.</b></span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOYiUmIeFnW8Zb7CN9uMqacNBEyYQFn9RiVlcnRvyT-L02ScnADV6Bc08XtrgcYhpLibGlwzo0l5iYTBehl9FLj1nNzpwdMFGNzxtNhinXDE74GyiP2ASge8RBsaza2VeicAdFtoBxP_Zv/s1600/aline-de-nadai-motsTck381I-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1105" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOYiUmIeFnW8Zb7CN9uMqacNBEyYQFn9RiVlcnRvyT-L02ScnADV6Bc08XtrgcYhpLibGlwzo0l5iYTBehl9FLj1nNzpwdMFGNzxtNhinXDE74GyiP2ASge8RBsaza2VeicAdFtoBxP_Zv/s320/aline-de-nadai-motsTck381I-unsplash.jpg" width="221" /></a></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a pretty nice stretch of sunny days, we got some rain this week. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype
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style='width:207pt;height:206.25pt;visibility:visible;mso-wrap-style:square'>
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</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--></span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I did a Google search on the smell of rain, and it turns out the scent
that fills the air before a rainfall is called “petrichor”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This distinct smell, petrichor, is described as earthy, musky and fresh,
and tends to be stronger after a lengthy period of no rainfall.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The storm’s downdrafts carry the smell from high altitudes to nose
level. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Isn’t that great! </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rain-washed air is delivered from the heights, </span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> down</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> down</span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> down </span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">to your nose – a fresh and fragrant party for your olfactory nerves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Life is full of
beauty. Notice it. Notice the bumble bee, the small child, and the smiling
faces. <b>Smell the rain, and feel the
wind.</b> Live your life to the fullest potential, and fight for your dreams.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">(Ashley Smith)</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">(Image - Umbrella by Unsplash Photographer Aline de Nadai)</span></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">(Image - Child Splashes in Puddle by Unsplash Photographer Jordan Whiff)</span></span></div>
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<br />Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-20086144648565604672020-05-19T11:23:00.001-07:002020-05-19T11:23:31.364-07:00House Plants & PeopleDo you ever feel like a neglected house plant?<br />
<br />
I do.<br />
<br />
I do, right now. Having worked for two months from home now, I'm in a surreal void, enduring a lack of light and attention, pushed to a smaller world with no human touch, no texture of voices, no ribbons of laughter festooning the hallways.<br />
<br />
Many are saying they enjoy working from home, but being a social butterfly, I like to share a space with my co workers, grabbing a coffee at break time, taking the stairs, replenishing my motivation in the physical surroundings of a workplace.<br />
<br />
But, like a sad little house plant, my leaves are yellowing; I'm feeling a bit droopy around the edges, and terribly parched.<br />
<br />
There's this Dracaena (pronounced "Driss-seen-nuh") plant quietly occupying a table in my spare room. Even during this shelter-at-home season, in a state of being hyper alert about everything, I'd forgotten it.<br />
<br />
The poor thing was so brittle, so needy - like us.<br />
<br />
I wondered if it could be restored.<br />
<br />
Setting to work, I couldn't help thinking we all need a bit of re-potting, some fresh water … lots of TLC.<br />
<br />
Like a house plant, we need some tending-to these days.<br />
<br />
Especially these days.<br />
<br />
Our root system is aching for community.<br />
<br />
Our leaves are yellow - we need a careful touch to pull them away.<br />
<br />
Our soil is dry - we need an organic compost of compassion.<br />
<br />
Nutrients should be mixed in. Things like good humor, a phone call, a letter, a song.<br />
<br />
It might be nice to have an aeration to help our roots grow deep; to enable a stronger, more vigorous life.<br />
<br />
Leaves that no longer serve us should be thoughtfully pruned. Cut away dry petals of anger, bitterness, resentment and unforgiveness.<br />
<br />
Like the little struggling plant, we need recovery time. When we have lacked the light and regularity of "normal days", it will take time and patience to reach upward and to trust once more.<br />
<br />
Take care of your plants, yes.<br />
<br />
Take care of yourself, too: hunker down in a larger pot, giving yourself extra space to expand and thrive.<br />
<br />
Break up the old soil; infuse it with good nutrients.<br />
<br />
Take away all that is no longer serving you.<br />
<br />
Add water.<br />
<br />
Drink, absorb life, and drink some more.<br />
<br />
Place yourself in the environment you need, one with plenty of light and love.<br />
<br />
I'm pleased to tell you my house plant is coming along nicely, showing some gumption, reaching toward the light. I've named her "Endurance" because she is making a comeback after a drought of neglect.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUNs3Na3r4e7ncxRMDCx6BTsQL7mGMLZ3dYSkohVpkCCQru3HD7KfVxGAAERVoWwcBn9ZGhGlFA3i3zS4f7qkLR_1HaY4dzFekyuox4DVQSYHzdJ5zcHjaPG9mjqPSKZBA3IQu7JOnr-y/s1600/Dracaena+House+Plant+Blue+Pot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUNs3Na3r4e7ncxRMDCx6BTsQL7mGMLZ3dYSkohVpkCCQru3HD7KfVxGAAERVoWwcBn9ZGhGlFA3i3zS4f7qkLR_1HaY4dzFekyuox4DVQSYHzdJ5zcHjaPG9mjqPSKZBA3IQu7JOnr-y/s320/Dracaena+House+Plant+Blue+Pot.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
There's always hope.<br />
<br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">This blog supports </span><a href="http://www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #6699cc; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop</a><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">, timely gifts for all seasons. Please visit the link to see my seasonal books, the "Breath of Joy! series. Breath of Joy! Singing Spring is a favorite this time of year.</span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-14216838829011448742020-05-12T13:32:00.000-07:002020-05-12T13:32:27.217-07:00A Hope Deferred - Hanging On and Letting GoThis week I'm supposed to be in Colorado.<br />
<br />
But I'm not.<br />
Because of COVID-19.<br />
<br />
My daughter's wedding plans got reconfigured to a different venue with fewer guests.<br />
Because of COVID-19.<br />
<br />
Your plans, too, have been sidetracked, cancelled, postponed and redefined.<br />
Because of COVID-19.<br />
<br />
Graduates are capped and gowned and smiling from their front yards instead of walking with their class.<br />
<br />
Birthdays are celebrated with car parades, honking horns and waving well-wishers from a safe distance.<br />
<br />
Food is delivered curbside or picked up or sought out like a scavenger hunt as supplies dwindle and then replenish.<br />
<br />
Zoom knows no demographics -- families now gather on the screen, a 2020 version of the Brady Bunch.<br />
<br />
All because of COVID-19.<br />
<br />
A good chunk of our time is spent consulting our calendars: rescheduling, cancelling, speculating … hoping.<br />
<br />
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<i>Hoping</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
A long time ago I read a little book titled, "A Hope Deferred", which is no longer in print. It's a bittersweet story about a young bride who discovers she cannot bear children; the world as she dreamed it is forever altered. Reluctantly, she learns to make peace with that reality.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>If the virus has taught us anything, it is how to grapple with deferred hopes -- suspended plans, stolen benchmarks, cancelled flights.</b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
It's not that we aren't adaptable, it's just that we're weary of all the adapting.<br />
<br />
It's not that we aren't willing to stay safe for the sake of others' health -- it's just that we've been connecting via high tech when we'd rather fall into a warm substantial hug.<br />
<br />
We're not necessarily afraid of the endless news stream; we're simply tapped out.<br />
<br />
Some of us are surprised we can be so exhausted after a full day of couch time - it's the laptop that's sucking out every fiber of energy.<br />
<br />
We are spent.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneEiNlf6BUho8BL9RSRTcbqwj3A4N6P8IOOT0FlO65Ux9oEsQmD_vAMoHg_FESnDz4aJRqpWFYiLtR3oMXkxk2d5gDP7hH91tFZXuurhYXm527sBxAwI_6RbjiFKE-KCPdOdxTSz5sB9i/s1600/Sunlight+Spills+into+Window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="485" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneEiNlf6BUho8BL9RSRTcbqwj3A4N6P8IOOT0FlO65Ux9oEsQmD_vAMoHg_FESnDz4aJRqpWFYiLtR3oMXkxk2d5gDP7hH91tFZXuurhYXm527sBxAwI_6RbjiFKE-KCPdOdxTSz5sB9i/s400/Sunlight+Spills+into+Window.jpg" width="255" /></a></div>
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A hope deferred is also an invitation - an offer to sit tight and wait for the light of day. It always shows up, spilling onto our weary bodies and gently asking us to get out of bed and move toward <i>possibility</i>.<br />
<br />
And, somehow, we do.<br />
<br />
We show up, help out, begin the next task, fix the meal, feel the disappointment and hang onto hope.<br />
<br />
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<i>Hope</i></div>
<i></i><br />
It may be muted just now, but it's always here.<br />
<br />
When this is over, Hope will spread its wings and carry us into new possibilities.<br />
<br />
"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life." Proverbs 13:12<br />
<br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia,&quot; font-size: 14.85px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">This blog supports </span><a href="http://www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #6699cc; font-family: georgia,&quot; font-size: 14.85px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop</a><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia,&quot; font-size: 14.85px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">, timely gifts for all seasons. Please visit the link to see my seasonal books, the "Breath of Joy! series. Breath of Joy! Singing Spring is a favorite this time of year.</span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
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<br />Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-36843681626329108302020-05-07T12:56:00.003-07:002020-05-07T12:56:37.967-07:00Beautiful Feet<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>"How beautiful are the feet of the messenger who brings good news!" Romans 10:15</b></span><br />
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<b><span style="background: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One thing we’re not using much of these days,
is shoes. I don’t know about you, but I’m mostly going barefoot around the
house. <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Shoe wear is optional while we remain sequestered in our homes.</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A comfy pair of sneakers stays parked at the door for the walk to
the mailbox, or a walk around the block; other than that, my work shoes are lying
dormant in the hall closet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There's an artist in Fort Myers, Florida, who is busy painting sandals with messages of love and hope, decorating them with jewelry and then stringing them onto a line. Her name is Annette Brown, and her message is simple: "I think everybody needs to reach inside themselves and create something because we are all artists in whatever form."</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Annette's neighbors are stepping up, decorating sneakers and pumps and sandals, creating visual reminders of creativity and survival. </span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It has become an outdoor gallery of curated shoe art. People are out walking, and they are looking up.</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Life-giving messages are written, painted and glued onto the shoes to spread cheer for all passers by.</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Shoes are a pretty accurate reflection of our personalities – much like your own hand written signature, they are a unique
identifier.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">On a walk recently I
came across an old, worn out pair of men’s work boots on a neighbor’s front
porch. The leather was cracked, their soles were split and their laces tattered.</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Even so, they looked amazing. </span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Because inside of them, some creative person
had planted a bright bunch of impatiens. <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The flowers nodded in
the breeze as if to say, “Look! We can re-purpose anything, even this old pair
of shoes!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">New life inside of
worn out containers. <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">No longer serviceable
for feet, yet perfectly whimsical to hold a cluster of perennials.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We’re kind of like
that: our bodies feel worn out at times, like a pair of old shoes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></i></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tired, achy, holding
the shape of a hug from six feet away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If we think of our
weary souls as conduits for beauty, then maybe we can feel a new infusion of
love, peace, kindness and growth. With good soil, water, sunshine and God's provision, a worn out soul can be rejuvenated.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We, like that shabby
pair of work shoes, are quietly being re-purposed for the future. <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Things are being
planted in us that will declare our resilience and delight others when we are all back together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<br />
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Wiggle your toes and
step into <i>that.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii5ULSbz3Mvrdx1q11kFnGlYiRz3tV9hgsVBcphipkU9O8RTVEH2NtaQW4Ys0EmIehLB2Vxs5K9lhF7Wgmw-ZmevhjURVZo69MRMaNmY7SdBTgezdjgLGNKl8i7IrsG1zh_g1c50vhwoVh/s1600/Old+Boots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="236" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii5ULSbz3Mvrdx1q11kFnGlYiRz3tV9hgsVBcphipkU9O8RTVEH2NtaQW4Ys0EmIehLB2Vxs5K9lhF7Wgmw-ZmevhjURVZo69MRMaNmY7SdBTgezdjgLGNKl8i7IrsG1zh_g1c50vhwoVh/s200/Old+Boots.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="background: white; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: 700; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Good Shoes Take You To Good Places"</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #5d5d5d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: 700; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Seo Min Hyun</i></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPbfcmnEwHkwxXg2qgMI0EN4N-bx4mPkypY3V01yrNFrHGKZQo7B4BrlHJmxOrfcCKW_GTqjKrz7rD8WZLGDtFnYK5qO7hQzL1QfcF2qJKLDUgKRT7_dR6e1CuNmicdYYDYrpki2C_HgNk/s1600/Impatiens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="336" data-original-width="473" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPbfcmnEwHkwxXg2qgMI0EN4N-bx4mPkypY3V01yrNFrHGKZQo7B4BrlHJmxOrfcCKW_GTqjKrz7rD8WZLGDtFnYK5qO7hQzL1QfcF2qJKLDUgKRT7_dR6e1CuNmicdYYDYrpki2C_HgNk/s320/Impatiens.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Jodi Jensen, watercolor artist</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">This blog supports </span><a href="http://www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop" style="background-color: white; color: #6699cc; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-decoration-line: none;">www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">, timely gifts for all seasons. Please visit the link to see my seasonal books, the "Breath of Joy! series. Breath of Joy! Singing Spring is a favorite this time of year.</span></div>
<br />Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6410763510446410835.post-18256128153674490912020-05-04T10:53:00.000-07:002020-05-04T10:53:09.620-07:00Bread for Tomorrow<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some foodies are posting on social media about a renewed
interest in baking bread. In our unique time of sequestering, bread machines
are coming back into service, rolling pins are getting a workout and children
are learning there are delicious, crusty pre-cursors to packaged bread. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Just think of the simple goodness of a slice of
fresh bread with a slather of real butter. For many of us, it’s a journey back
to the farm, to Grandma’s kitchen, to a sacred place in time when a slice of
homemade bread was a synonym for home; for security; for safety and well being.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is a slim little paperback titled “Sleeping
with Bread”; a book that has sustained and quieted me in good times and in
times of uncertainty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A collaborative work by Dennis Linn, Sheila
Fabricant Linn and Matthew Linn, this dog-eared collection offers tasty morsels
of wisdom I return to again and again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The opening page explains what it literally meant,
once, to sleep with bread – sometimes, an entire loaf of bread.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGfdAPxpvkYcEdppyneV-bixBZcoMmo0ie90l0MTzzaRBCpBf9SobpfJq4M_ofKLfyuzvV65ix4Q5gGLl94fUtPGf3kecINVJviS3pFvvSnD3cQ9XLNS9YpdHpZV2YZ3404WSANsmewtu/s1600/Bread+Loaf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGfdAPxpvkYcEdppyneV-bixBZcoMmo0ie90l0MTzzaRBCpBf9SobpfJq4M_ofKLfyuzvV65ix4Q5gGLl94fUtPGf3kecINVJviS3pFvvSnD3cQ9XLNS9YpdHpZV2YZ3404WSANsmewtu/s1600/Bread+Loaf.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">During the bombing raids of World War II, thousands
of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued
and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But many of these children who had lost so much
could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again
homeless and without food. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Nothing seemed to reassure them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each
child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Holding their bread, these children could finally
sleep in peace. The bread reminded them, “Today I ate and I will eat again
tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What a powerful word picture. A child, cared for but
alone in the world, clutching a crust of bread to get through the night. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As we are hopefully nearing an end to our isolation,
the symbolic idea of sleeping with bread, seems particularly fitting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>“Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow.” <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There was uncertainty in the day, perhaps pockets of
emotional scarcity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Even so, today took care of itself – tomorrow will
be enough, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Enough” becomes a warm-from-the-oven slice,
buttered generously with the good stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And yes, it’s plenty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikn-RiCO0XHadb4SmnxUTeF4KI77qHQzjvg9xaYZBfZGXlrbjlxmkB3Xbb7QwEM-fFJvXhReDLsquO63HvHBkJupAg7JvIoJIObSkzaIbzLNbNYSHumTsDH-8-F8WCVk0I48UJPW6gjhU8/s1600/Bread+Loaf+Girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="572" data-original-width="350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikn-RiCO0XHadb4SmnxUTeF4KI77qHQzjvg9xaYZBfZGXlrbjlxmkB3Xbb7QwEM-fFJvXhReDLsquO63HvHBkJupAg7JvIoJIObSkzaIbzLNbNYSHumTsDH-8-F8WCVk0I48UJPW6gjhU8/s320/Bread+Loaf+Girl.jpg" width="195" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">This blog supports </span><a href="http://www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop" style="background-color: white; color: #6699cc; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-decoration-line: none;">www.booksforbondinghearts.com/shop</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.85px;">, timely gifts for all seasons. Please visit the link to see my seasonal books, the "Breath of Joy! series. Breath of Joy! Singing Spring is a favorite this time of year.</span></span></div>
<br />Kathy Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03418368273600479544noreply@blogger.com1