I signed up for a new writers group that had a waiting list. I called to be put on the list. Turns out I am in, if I bring my own chair. Especially if I am short legged. Don't ask but shost did. I qualify so I am pushing myself out of my comfort zone to go. Keep tuned.
I need to find a 12 step program for the undisciplined. I'd start one myself, but then I would have to be there.
Been going back to LA Fitness to be tortured by a trainer twice a week. Erratically, at that. I am learning to dislike that old cliche, no pain-no gain. Why are cliches always true? Just wondering.
Wonder how come I spent 15 minutes looking foe my glasses the other day and happened to notice I was wearing them when I passed a mirror. But then I am always looking for things, especially keys, cell phone,or purse. You know that drill if you were born when dinasaurs roamed the earth. I wish I could attach my cell phone to these things All I would have to do is I call my cell phone from my land line and follow the sound.
Unfortunately, I have my cell phone listed on my iphone in the name of Des. So every time I run around looking for it, it tells me that Des called. That bums me out, but Des is probabiylaughing up there with his angel pals. Not fair.
Another cliche. Life is not fair, followed by what is, is. I have a great granddaughter in New York who happens to be named Isis. She really is what she is.
I am in avoidance mode with this blog. So many people I love are suffering health challenges, I had to get up off my prayer knees and distract mysef silly.
So Says Sassy
er
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Giving Up For Lent
In my childhood home, lent was a somber time. You had to give stuff up and then there was Good Friday where my mom wouldn't let me listen to the radio. Of course eating meat was not to cross our lips. Boy, was she ticked when the rules got changed somewhere along the line and it was allowed after all. Those were my Catholic years when we all knew which priest gave us th least penalties for our sins in the confessional.
I abandoned the Catholic crowd when I was 16 years old, but since then a priest recently scoffed and told me "once a Catholic, always a Catholic." I didn't debate it, but I still often make the sign of the cross when I am in need of instant help.
My latest adaption of the lenten practice of givng up something for lent is not something superficial like candy or R rated movies or burning the best seller, "Shades of Gray." After I read it, of course. I am giving up Guilt.
It came to mind at a recent Ash Wednesdat at church when we were asked three challenging questions and had to write our answers in our journals. The first question stoopped me in my tracks. "What is the worst thing that ever happened to you?"
Immediately I flashed back to the day I signed Des into Treacy Villa, a residential facility after trying to care for him during difficult months of his failing health physically and emotionally. It was heart wrenching and guilt was a monstor over whelming me. I lost my job. He was my job. I loved my job and him.
Two weeks later, he had a meltdown and they called the crisis team and took him to the local hospital, and I was left to find another place to take him. The new place was Mound down the road from the other place and it turned out be acceptable--but not home. I won't dramatize the following many months that guilt rode my shoulders on my drives to see him, eat with him, read to him, and sometimes laugh with him.
The staff was loving, he charmed them all but it wasn't home. As his health deteriorated, the dreaded phone call to me from the facility..."better get here and hurry." I called my friend Jan who insisted on driving me there. I call my family and Chuck our pastor, and we all got there in time. I was able to stroke his face, whisper in his ear, tell him private memories and assured him that he was going on a glorious journey to see his brother and other family members already waiting for him. He heard me. I could tell by the was his breath paused and then resumed when I stopped and then went on with promises I believed thanks to my faith, past and present.
Later that morning while I sat in the funeral home alone waiting for decisions to be made. My eyes closed, I saw Des and heard words I never expected - not audible but in my soul. He said, "You did the right thing." His last loving gift to me. I wish I could say that released my guilt immediately. I took many agonizing months, despite assurances of family, friends and counsellors.
But this is is, my lenten promise. I am giving up guilt for lent.
So says Sassy
I abandoned the Catholic crowd when I was 16 years old, but since then a priest recently scoffed and told me "once a Catholic, always a Catholic." I didn't debate it, but I still often make the sign of the cross when I am in need of instant help.
My latest adaption of the lenten practice of givng up something for lent is not something superficial like candy or R rated movies or burning the best seller, "Shades of Gray." After I read it, of course. I am giving up Guilt.
It came to mind at a recent Ash Wednesdat at church when we were asked three challenging questions and had to write our answers in our journals. The first question stoopped me in my tracks. "What is the worst thing that ever happened to you?"
Immediately I flashed back to the day I signed Des into Treacy Villa, a residential facility after trying to care for him during difficult months of his failing health physically and emotionally. It was heart wrenching and guilt was a monstor over whelming me. I lost my job. He was my job. I loved my job and him.
Two weeks later, he had a meltdown and they called the crisis team and took him to the local hospital, and I was left to find another place to take him. The new place was Mound down the road from the other place and it turned out be acceptable--but not home. I won't dramatize the following many months that guilt rode my shoulders on my drives to see him, eat with him, read to him, and sometimes laugh with him.
The staff was loving, he charmed them all but it wasn't home. As his health deteriorated, the dreaded phone call to me from the facility..."better get here and hurry." I called my friend Jan who insisted on driving me there. I call my family and Chuck our pastor, and we all got there in time. I was able to stroke his face, whisper in his ear, tell him private memories and assured him that he was going on a glorious journey to see his brother and other family members already waiting for him. He heard me. I could tell by the was his breath paused and then resumed when I stopped and then went on with promises I believed thanks to my faith, past and present.
Later that morning while I sat in the funeral home alone waiting for decisions to be made. My eyes closed, I saw Des and heard words I never expected - not audible but in my soul. He said, "You did the right thing." His last loving gift to me. I wish I could say that released my guilt immediately. I took many agonizing months, despite assurances of family, friends and counsellors.
But this is is, my lenten promise. I am giving up guilt for lent.
So says Sassy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)