Life Lessons - Learned and Still to Learn

O ne thousand ninety five days. That is how long it has been since you left me. But, then, you didn't really leave me. I feel you here beside me so often. I feel your influence in the decisions I make, the way I live my solitary life. I know you are here. As a friend said right after you died, you are right here, just out of sight, waiting for the day we can be together again. I have to believe that. There are days when that promise of an eternal reunion is the only thing that keeps me going. God, I miss you so much. I speak to you everyday. I play the music we love, look at the lovely things we acquired over the years we spent together. I speak to your children regularly, keeping up with their lives as they keep up with mine. What a blessing they are. To still have that connection with you through your beloved children. They miss you so much, too. The other day, Alice was asking about the rowan leaf necklace I wear next to the beautiful heart pendant that contains some of your ash

It is coming up really quickly - the big redo of my apartment. A week this Monday, that is when the work begins. My incredible hydrotherapy spa tub arrives on the Tuesday. Hopefully, everything will be completed by the end of the week. And this coming week, I've arranged for a life coach/organiser to come and help me do what needs to be done still to give me more peace of mind. My living room closet needs to be sorted, a cabinet in the kitchen I can't reach needs to be cleared and then reorganised. The bathroom needs to be sorted, too, as that room will be basically taken back to studs with the installation of the tub. I still need to arrange to get to The Floor Shop to look at the various heavy duty vinyls from which I can choose my new bathroom floor. (The current one is a wet room floor that would not look out of place in public toilet. Not very attractive at all.) It's all systems go. I will post about it when it is done, complete with before and after shots! The electr

When I was a kid, I loved September. I loved that change in the air - the cooling temperatures and the aroma of changing leaves. It meant new school clothes and shoes and saving the brown paper bags from the A&P so we could have the fun of wrapping our books and decorating the outside with crayons and markers. As Tom Hanks' character says in "You've Got Mail" - "Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address." Of course, with school-age grandchildren, I still feel that flutter of excitement with them as the new school year begins. But September has a sad association with it, too. And my heart knows it even before my conscious mind registers it. It was three years ago today that we started on the final part of Chris' journey towards the end of life. Callie and Catherine had been visiting for the long weekend and their visit cheered Ch