Winter Days

Winter is not my favorite season.  There are parts of winter I thoroughly enjoy.  Watching snowflakes whirl around the city streets... Snuggling up with my honey on a cold night with a warm blanket and the chick flick he picked out for me...  the crunch of the snow beneath my feet on the short walk from my car to the door... Ice dripping from barren branches the way icing drips off a warm cake.  But I digress.

Winter is not my favorite season.  Today, we caught a glimpse of what comes next.  The thermostat reached almost 70 degrees.  The ice and snow only pepper the lawns now.  There is a fresh scent in the air.  The golden sunshine feels warm on my face.  Could it be?  Dare I hope?  Is it Spring I feel lurking just around the corner?  My hopes are dashed as Brian shares the weather report.  Sixty mile per hour winds expected tonight and tomorrow... temperatures dipping into the thirties again.  

Winter is not my favorite season.  However, the seasons come and go giving us something to always look forward to.  It can't be long now..........

Time Slips By...

When my oldest son turned 25 I was slightly perplexed.  Didn't I just turn 25? Aside from a tired body that often tells me otherwise, I FEEL 25.  Okay... maybe 30.  How could I possibly have a 25 year old child?  How did we go from wiping the peanut butter and jelly from his precious face to having my cheek scratched by his whiskers when he hugs me hello? The moments in between swagger between crystal clear and clear as mud depending on the moment. Selective memory, I have found, is a wondrous gift for the mother of three (once precocious) now adult sons. 

Crystal clear is the moment I first held Matthew... hours after an emergency cesarean had been performed.  The glow of the dimly lit hallway in the maternity ward snuck into my room as did the hushed voices of the nurses on duty.  I remembered waking just long enough to hear my husband tell me we had a son... "a son with a cute button nose, just like yours." (I wouldn't call my nose a button, but relative to his... well, enough said.)  Now... alone with my hormones, a tear slid down my cheek as I longed to see my son for the first time. Did that need justify ringing for a nurse in the middle of the night?  I hesitated as I wiped the wetness from my cheek.  Wait... what was that?  Laughter coming from the nurses station.  Surely, I reasoned, if they have time to laugh they have time to bring my son to his momma.  I reached for the cord... my hand trembled.  I was about to meet my first born.  I pressed the button... I waited.  "May I help you?"  In the most motherly voice I could produce (I was just shy of 20) I asked, "Can you please bring my baby to me?"  Click.  The intercom went dead.  Did she hear me? I wondered.  I decided to be patient...   

My heart was pounding beneath the cotton hospital gown.  The anticipation was almost unbearable.  As I thought about how long I should be patient (not a virtue I ever mastered, by the way) the door to my room slowly opened.  I sat up straighter (as straight as one can sit with 28 staples across their tummy) and held my breath.  The nurse carried my baby boy to my bedside... laid some pillows across my lap... and placed my infant son in my arms.  Quiet tears slid down my cheeks now.  He gripped my finger with his tiny hand and I was amazed at his strength.  He opened his eyes and met my gaze. I don't know how long we sat there, my son and I.  We never noticed that the nurse had left us alone.  He was the most beautiful baby ever born.  As I unwrapped his swaddling blanket I found him to be perfect in every way... right down to his button nose.  I snugly wrapped him back up and held him close and whispered in his tiny ear, "Welcome to our world, Matthew James. You will be forever loved."

There are moments in life that you know you'll never forget.  Moments that are so monumental they are forever etched across the scrapbook of your soul.  This was one of them. 

Things I Love...

 I love...

the soft middle of the night kisses shared with my husband ... 

listening to the laughter of my boys when they are together.... 

the way my kitties purr when I snuggle up with them... 

crunching on the sugar crystals topping the vanilla cappuccino my bff makes me...

the soft black Hanes sweatshirt that has taken the past 20 years to get worn in... 

the slippers my favorite cousin knitted for me on my last birthday... 

watching the sun come up over the ocean on a balmy morning... 

the way the warm sand squishes between my toes as I make my way to the oceans edge... 

the fragrance of sweet vidalia onions caramelizing in my grandma's cast iron frying pan... 

snorkeling in cool blue water...

books I can't put down...

On Complaining...

Maya Angelou is the author of my favorite quote:  "Be careful about complaining.  If you don't like a thing, change it.  If you can't change it, change the way you think about it."  How profound!  It's true that the events of our lives are not always pleasant and that we don't always have the power to change them.  BUT.... it is always within our power to change the way we think.  The question is do I want to change?  For many people, the answer is no, the question even foreign.  I've witnessed people who don't seem to be happy unless they have something to complain about.  Such is the case of two elderly but feisty woman who frequent the cafe my best friend and I co-own.  The two are sisters and appear to have the kind of relationship that can only be forged through a life-time of shared experiences.  They are completely confident in their opinions and they have opinions about everything.  It's rare to hear them express a positive thought.  What causes a person to look for... even revel in the negative?  Is it possible to change a lifetime and a half of looking at the glass half empty?  

thoughts saved...

hmmm... just a simple beginning... they seem to work best...

a simple place to share my thoughts

mostly just for me

a place to say my mind is caught

too often the words flee

here they will be saved at least

trapped for another day

to add, subtract and change

the thoughts that come my way