Nostalgic Nursing Refections on Life

The opposite of Present is.... Absent (Without...Alone) The opposite of Presence is... Absence (Empty...Void) When you are mom (and Santa) to twin 7year old boys... Presents are a BIG element each December 25Th! I believe this is probably the case with most children and young adults in today's world. I use to believe that well chosen sentimental gifts were an ideal display of how a person truly feels about another... Not necessarily the fiscal investment... Definitely the mental, emotional and time investment. Developing the insight to discern the best way to show how much you care... Identifying the the most appropriate physical object to provide a sensory connection... Something that can be seen, touched...smelled...tasted...heard... Then one day around 40years and six months I looked around and realized... Wow! I have a whole lot of stuff... Stuff everywhere... Too much stuff. Too much to see. So much stuff that sentimental joy had become Sensory overload! The "presents&quo

So Yesterday I had it all under control... I had gained a positive new perspective...appreciating and preserving all that is good, loving and happy... Today... I am ok...I cry...I am ok...I cry...I am ok...and on it goes. Even with LOTS of fertilizer... Sometimes it is very hard to "bloom where your planted"

About yesterday's figurative box of leftover, mismatched puzzle pieces... I have given it all more thought... If Dad could fashion "something" out of "nothing"...so can I! Back when I was a sprite young lady of five years... I lived at grandma's farm house for a spell... When our clothes were worn she would mend them... When our clothes could no longer be repaired we put them in the "rag bag"... I think perhaps that I mis-metaphored... I am not currently struggling as a "mismatched box of emotional puzzle pieces"... Instead I am an emotional bag of rags! Let me explain... Like favorite worn clothing items... emotions and feelings can become thread-bare, with holes and tattered edges... the wear and tear of life can take its toll on a person! Here's the beauty... Grandma had these big, old, heavy, metal pinking shears with red handles... Every so often she and I would sit and turn the "rag bag" into perfectly cut, evenly size

Anyone who has children has probably experienced, "the big box of puzzle pieces"... With time and living... 3 to 4 complete pictures wears down into... A big box of of incomplete...mismatched...puzzle pieces... Figuratively... I am there. I'm not sure about putting all the pieces together again... I usually throw out the literal box of pieces when we get to that point.

Loving...Kind...Thoughtful...Moral...Just...Honorable...Strong... Using mere words to describe Dad would be a kin to... Trying to capture the Wind in a Mason Jar! Dad recently sat with me and soothed my aching sadness by explaining that... Whenever I heard the wind blow... Rustling the leaves of the trees... Bringing tune to the front porch chimes... I should know that he is near. Now... Without his lap to cry on when I am sad... I will learn to turn to turn my face to the wind... And know in my heart... That I will always be with my Dad!!!

Watching "spiritual-mind" and "physical-body" become dismembered Bearing witness to human mortality Understanding the "Raw Nature" of the phases one progresses through to come to an end Holding Vigil Staying Near Professing Love Resolving Conflicts Honoring Wishes Providing Comfort Sleepless Nights...Days...Weeks A Family drawn together... a family supporting each other...working, eating, sleeping and crying together to make Dad's "Last Days" all that they should be Understanding Finding Peace Within Letting Go...