Thursday, December 31, 2015
Wrapping up the year can be anxiety producing. We hope to accomplish so many things in a new year, but sometimes life gets in the way of our plans. I guess it is good that one year has only 365 days! 2016 will be a leap year, so the year will have one extra day on February 29th! Each new year offers us a new start. So, it is out with the old and in with the new!
An altered jar holds our little notes of thankfulness. During the past year, we each jotted down things that we were grateful for and placed them in the "thankful" jar, as they occurred. We will open that jar tonight and reminisce. Tomorrow we will restart the process.
We will open our other altered jar of resolutions tomorrow. In the meanwhile, I am taking time today to assess what I have accomplished in the past year. I will make some plans and set some goals. I will write them down on little pieces of paper, just like I did last year, and place them in our jar. My husband and I enjoy this new tradition.
I posted photos of these jars, here on my blog, last year. If you would like one, please let me know. I will be happy to make one or both for you. They are a nice way to remind us of what is important. Here they are again:
I had surgery this year in September, and by the time I was well enough to work in my studio, it was almost Christmas! I managed to make a few cards for special orders. I will have a lot more ready for next year, as I am planning to ramp up my card making. Here are a few that I made this year:
There are just a few hours left in 2015. It has been a year of learning and coping for my husband and me as we spent the entire year focused on my health. I have been given the green light by my surgeon to resume a normal life. I am ready. I could never have gone through the surgeries and recovery without the loving care that my husband bestowed on me. He dedicated himself to taking care of me, the house and our real estate business. He needs a rest and I hope this year will bring him the rewards he deserves for his selflessness.
With all best wishes for the new year, and until we meet again, may the Lord hold you in the hollow of His hand.
Thursday, December 17, 2015
It feels nice to be remembered. You know . . . the feeling you get when you receive a card or phone call out of the blue. . . or, these days, an email or text message, from a friend who just wanted to say, "I'm thinking about you". Perhaps it has been a while since you were remembered this way. If so, you are not alone. People are not reaching out directly to others as much as in the past, due in part to the phenomenon of social media. Most days, the best you can hope for is to be tagged so a friend's post catches your eye when you check your Facebook account!
I was thinking about this while I was in my studio making Christmas cards. I used to send greetings out in the mail a lot, and for all occasions . . . or no occasion at all. But the ease of grabbing my tablet or phone changed that. I can make a quick post telling the world about the oh-so-interesting thing I just did, ate, or saw. I can tag friends so they feel included. But is that the way I should be reaching out? I think l have been duped by technology to believe I am in touch with my friends by tagging them in my posts!
There are times during the day or evening that someone pops into my head and I think about them for a minute and maybe say a little prayer for them. I might think of how nice it would be to see them for coffee or something, but the thought leaves me and I get absorbed into whatever I am doing; and at that moment, I don't even contact them electronically.
I have decided it is time to act when thoughts of others come to mind. Today I put a little stack of cards on my studio work table. The pens are there already, so I can sit down anytime of the day or night and write a note. I will buy some stamps today and keep them right there with the cards. This will be my new habit. I am getting better at following through on establishing new habits, so this should be relatively easy. I mean . . . how long can it take to walk into my studio, take pen in hand, and write a thoughtful note? Ten minutes? Fifteen minutes? What a nice way to take a break! It should also release me from the guilt I feel when I look at my TO DO list and see friends names penciled in along the margins. My friends deserve more than a faded penciled in note along the margins of my TO DO lists.
I mentioned I have been making Christmas cards. They will appear in a post after Christmas. I know that some of my blog readers will be receiving them from people who placed orders with me and I don't want to show them here before they receive them. :-) I do have a couple photos to share with you, though.
|It isn't really a Christmas card, but I like it and will make more for Christmas!|
This was sent to a friend who thought of me while I have been recovering from surgery and sent me a special gift.
|My annual winter scarf project is going a little slow!|
Between drowsiness and watching Christmas movies on ION and the Hallmark Channel,
I cant count my stitches unless I stare at my needles. This might be done by the time we actually have snow this winter!
Christmas Eve is just one week away. I love all the excitement of the season with special shopping, making gifts, sending cards, listening to beloved carols and watching heart-touching movies. But more than all of that, I love the Season of Advent and what it promises: Christmas Day and the birth of our Savior. I am hoping I will keep up more with friends in the coming year and until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of His hand.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
It is finally cold enough to get all the winter clothes unpacked and into the closet. Even though I tried to be ruthless when I sorted, donated, tossed and packed them last spring, I have discovered some weary-looking garments in my winter wardrobe. I shudder as I think that I actually went out the door last winter wearing them....thinking I looked good!
Wait....I didn't go anywhere last winter, except to the hospital and doctor's office! At the time, I must have thought it would be okay to wear such tired out clothes. It matched how I felt, and I really didn't look good anyway! Illness and surgery have a way of taking away the idea of dress to impress. Instead, last winter, I dressed to survive. I felt marginal and the weather was brutal. I wore layers and layers of clothes. Polar fleece was my best friend. Elastic waists and sweatshirts and sweatpants one or two sizes too big were the norm for comfort due to bandages. Anyone who saw me didn't see the real "me"...or at least, that's how I felt. Yet, what they saw was probably more the real "me", than I would care to admit! The no makeup me. The no hair color me. The baggy sweatpants me. The zapped energy me.
I learned a lot of new things about myself through my illness and surgery last winter. I also observed the world around me with a new understanding of what it is like to be compromised by health issues and totally reliant on others. I thank God for my compassionate and capable husband.
I had usually been on the helping side of sickness, not the patient side. Except for a few out-patient surgeries, and some bad cases of the flu, my health had remained good for six decades. I knew how to help an ailing friend or family member. I received my training at an early age, when my mother's parents moved in with us.
I was 7 years old when my grandmother had a stroke that left her paralyzed on one side and unable to do things on her own. My grandfather was unable to take care of her by himself, so they came to live with us. The big table with its six leaves, the buffet, the china cabinet, and the piano were all moved to one end of the dining room in our farmhouse; and the room became their quarters, complete with hospital bed, wheelchair, commode and overstuffed rocking chair for Grandpa's naps. My father and mother cared for Grandma and I helped out as much as a 7-year old could. I learned how to make a bed, how to make up a sick tray, (as my mother called it), and how to make someone comfortable. I learned to listen for signs of distress and would run to their room if I thought they needed something. I enjoyed being their helper.
My mother needed me. She was strong, but she was small and handicapped. Years later, when in her 70's she learned that what she referred to all her life as her affliction was the mildest of the three types of cerebral palsy. Her condition never deterred her from having a normal life. She just improvised a lot. She got the job done.
Watching what my mother could accomplish in a day was really quite amazing. Small and "afflicted", she did more than many able-bodied women. At the time, she was raising children, cooking big noon-time meals for my father and the hired men, doing lots of laundry , and was nursemaid to her parents.
A bit of an aside, but a recent observation. . . We learn from our parents and we pattern our mannerisms after them. I noticed that when I cook at the stove, I stir with my right hand while I "hold on" with my left. My mother had to hold on to keep her balance, but I don't need to. I do it because I learned it by observing her. Now that I noticed it, I think of her whenever I cook and a little smile graces my lips. ♡
Back to my understanding of what others are going through when stricken by illness or a disability . . . Even though I was my mother's helper and I was aware of her small size and her limp; as a kid, I never really considered the effort it took for her to do things. She just did what needed to be done. Period. Now I have some idea of what it was like for her, and not just for a year, but for her entire life. I am more appreciative of the effort she put into raising me and guiding me. My childhood was normal because she didn't let her disability dampen her spirit or her will.
Almost all healed from my surgeries, I have a renewed spirit and a fresh perspective. I want to accomplish so much more in the coming year than I have been able to in the past few and I am more inspired than ever because I know what it is like to be physically down and out. I will not take my health for granted . . . or my wardrobe... I need to work on both.