Dangerous Curves Ahead

I just read in a magazine letter to the editor that life throws you curves and that it's how we persevere that makes it all worth it.

It really ticked me off.

The perseverance makes what worth it? And what curve has been thrown at this letter-writer? My guess is a fender bender or being told they need adult braces.

Because my daily and necessary perseverance during the last two and a half years has not been worth-it or worth-while or worth-anything. There is no grand reward in trying to put make-up on using the largest magnifier mirror made and still having to ask my poor husband if my eyes look too goth. Or in typing this blog post with the font so large that only four words are displayed on the iPad screen at one time.

We persevere because life goes on when the curve comes our way. There's no choice if we decide to keep going. We lightly touch the brakes. We slow down. We hold on a little tighter. We act on instinct. We pray.

It's not perseverance. It's survival. And every day we remake the decision to survive. Life has thrown the curve, and we decide to survive. We decide survival is worth it.

Now that's perseverance.

Going Nowhere Fast

Good News:

Due to vision, can no longer use a treadmill

Bad News:

Stationary bike

Looking Good . . . Or Not

People keep telling me I don't look 50. If they are being kind, I would like them to stop.

I can't really see what I look like. I haven't for two years. Should I be so fortunate to fully regain my sight and get a good look at myself, it might not be pretty.

Literally.

The Ultimate Welcome Wagon

My mom passed away three years ago. To say we were close is a major understatement.  We talked several times a day and were always doing things together. I miss her every day.

Her mother, who we called Nana, passed away 15 years before my mom. Nana and my mom had a very good relationship but geography limited their time spent together. I would have told you their bond was not as close as my mom's and mine. Now I know different.

My mom passed away at home, under hospice care. I never left her side in her final days. We knew the end was near. I held her hand and stroked her head. She was unconscious but I believe she knew I was there. I was concerned that she didn't want to leave me behind and so I assured her that I would be fine and that I understood she had to go.

In her final hours, the only word she uttered was "mom". She kept saying it over and over. The hospice nurse was wonderful and had given me instruction and confidence so that I could ensure my mom's comfort. She also provided information as to what I could expect as we got closer ro the end.

One of the things she told me was that loved ones on the other side may come for her and that my mom may begin speaking to them. I was taken aback by her matter-of-fact delivery of this possibility. I quickly tried to reconcile her words with what I believed. But all I kept thinking was this woman has seen a lot of things. Who am I to question what she said when she had seen it time and time again? And yet I thought, "What the . . . ?".

In my mom's final hours, the only word she uttered was "mom". She kept saying it over and over. Although I had been told this could happen, I was shocked. What hit me immediately after the shock was that my mom used the word "mom" instead of "nana". I had never heard my mom call her mom anything but nana. But now she wanted her mom. And based on what I experienced and what the seasoned hospice nurse told me, I have no doubt her mom came to get her. 

Events of the last few years have challenged my beliefs and my faith. But I know when my time here is through, I will be welcomed by the ultimate Welcome Wagon. After all, my mom brought me into this world, why wouldn't she be there to help me out of it and on to whatever comes next?

Happy Mother's Day Mom and Nana.

5/7/65

One day you're 49 and the next day you're 50.

Yesterday was that day.

I've never skied and I don't see very well.

But still I know it's all downhill from here. 

Dear Weather Channel:

Dear Weather Channel:

I am not a meteorologist nor do I play one on TV.

I have, however, been an eye-witness to a weather phenomenon over a twenty-year period. Feel free to rename the event, but we call it THT (Thunderstorm Humidity Tuesday).  The cause of THT? My weekday-warrior husband plays softball on Tuesday evenings beginning tonight through the end of August. You can count on lightening and/or humidity for the next 16+ Tuesdays.

 It is very warm here already and the calendar just turned to May. In further support of THT, this evening we are to have our first thunderstorm of 2015. In May. On the night of my husband's first game.

Please get the word out to your viewers. I recommend they take a black Sharpie and color in Tuesdays until September. They should make no plans for those days. I suggest that they think of Tuesdays as snow days. They can rent some movies and hunker down. They need to stay cool and dry. I'll be doing the same alone in my house while my THT catalyst takes the field in the rain and heat or waits out a thunderstorm in his car.

If Jim Cantore would like to come to investigate, we would love to have him for dinner. We"ll grill some steaks. Unless it's a Tuesday. Never on a Tuesday.

Sincerely,

Sister Rain

-0 To 80

A mere two months ago our temperatures in southeastern Pennsylvania were "how low can you go?"  brrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Today at noon we were at 81 degrees F.

There are many reasons why out-of-the-shoveling-and-into-the-sweating is wrong. None more glaring (wait for it) than this: winter white legs! Even with my vision challenges, the abundance of them running around this weekend was blinding. Oh yes I did!

Please cover those things up! We don't need the constant reminder of the white of winter every time we look below the waist. There is a reason we have four seasons even though it feels as though we have skipped one.

SPRING into summer -- in pants!