Today, I am participating in Monday Listicles, a weekly creation started byStasha at The Good Life. The idea for today’s list comes from Greta atNot Enough Patience: 10 Things You Said You’d Never Do But Have Caught Yourself Doing.
Growing up, the ‘I never’ game was associated with drinking: an ‘I never” statement was made and if you had done it – you were to drink. Being a prudish wallflower, I always walked away from that game completely sober. The only way I could get a sip of anything was when statements like “I never ran a red light” were uttered.
.:: Plain and Ordinary
I sat down to write my Friday post, and I found myself struggling for content. Much, okay – all of what I write is taken straight from my life experiences, for better or worse. I love plain and ordinary weeks; however, plain and ordinary does not make for an interesting blog. So, we’ll see how this goes.
10 Things About This Plain and Ordinary Week
10. 12 days have passed since I have had ice cream.
9. My child threw a peppercorn in a teacher’s ear. SCORE!
8. I took a great picture of my boys, because they wanted to send a note to their cousin.
7. I enjoyed eating fresh, plump blueberries. (So sorry the blueberry season is over.)
6. I picked up my neighbor’s son from school, because her keys were locked in the car and she couldn’t find her spare key. (It’s nice to know it is not just ‘me’.)
5. I started watching season 4 of Dexter, thanks to Netflix. (I love Dexter.)
4. I watched my neighbor’s kids for a couple of hours, enjoying the chance to hold a baby and rock her to sleep.
3. I set up a dinner date with my friend for next week.
2. I’ve made it 12 days ice cream free. (Yes, this is mentioned twice. I’m proud, people!)
1. I had relations with my husband. Wait. Maybe that was last week. Meh, I’m still glowing, so it counts.
P.S. I hope next week is plain and ordinary, too.
.:: Seeing is Believing, and Sometimes that Stinks
As I’ve mentioned in prior posts, I have a friend whose Mom is battling Cancer. Until Thursday, my friend had not seen her Mom since learning of her Cancer diagnosis. And, since the diagnosis, her Mom has undergone two periods of chemotherapy.
Knowing her Mom was coming to town, my excitement for her has been building all week. I sent her a note asking her if her Mom was in town yet, in a similar fashion to kids asking if they are at their destination yet: “Is she there yet? I she there yet? Is she there yet?”
While letting me know her Mom had not yet arrived, she added that she was a bit nervous about seeing her. I understood. I was nervous for her. All week, my excitement for my friend was combined with anxiety, nervousness and happiness. My friend had not seen her Mom, and she had no idea what to expect.
This week I have been thinking about my Dad. Because I was living out of town, there was a period of 5 months where we did not see each other. The last time I saw him, he was in the hospital. I was not prepared for how my Dad looked. Not prepared. And, I spent this week hoping my friend would be better prepared.
Hair loss? Yes, she was expecting hair loss. I think for my friend, she was more anxious about her Mom’s overall appearance, like her weight, facial features, mobility, etc. And, as the time of her mom’s arrival neared, my friend wondered if seeing pictures prior to her Mom’s visit would have been a good idea. Regardless, it was time. As her Mom has said many times, “Let’s get this show on the road.”
My friend’s Mom arrived. Though she looked frail, my friend said her Mom looked better than she expected. The hair loss? Yes, the hair loss is evident. In fact, her Mom took off her wig early to get ‘the show on the road.” But, the anticipation and uneasiness is now gone, at least with regards to appearances.
The fact of the matter is that seeing her Mom walk through the door wasn’t the tough part. The tough part was seeing the reality. Now my friend has to be present in the moment of her Mom having Cancer. My friend has to be present in the moment of what had been only words spoken over the phone or typed via email. Now the journey becomes a tough journey – a real tough journey.
And to my friend I say, “I love you very much.”
.:: Giving Until I Get Old If you read my post from yesterday, please pardon me as I repeat a little of what I said yesterday. I spent two days helping in the call center during the WSB Talk Radio Care-A-Thon, benefiting the Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta Care-a-Thon. (Actually, day two is taking place as I type.) The Care-a-Thon benefits the Aflac Cancer Center and Blood Disorder Services. This was the 10th year for the WSB Talk Radio Care-a-Thon, and I was honored to participate.
One of the calls I received was from a 97 yr old woman. Please understand, she shared her age without me asking. As a woman, I respect my fellow women, and I respect the unwritten (but famous) rule to never ask another woman her age. This woman volunteered her age, and she let me know she has been calling in every year in support of the Aflac Cancer Center; then she apologized.
“I’m sorry. This year I can only afford $20.” The woman said to me. “I wish I could donate more, but I just don’t have the money right now.”
[Insert deliberate pause here.]
I hope I live to be 97yrs old, and I hope I am able to pull together $20 to donate to a charitable organization. God bless that 97yr old woman. Even though she is limited financially, she still made a point to give. And, I am here to tell you, every single dollar we received mattered. Every. Single. Dollar. Mattered. And that woman – that generous woman? She can teach us all a thing or twenty.