Archive | December, 2012

Excruciating Comfort

26 Dec

When I am at home I am seldom wearing anything that would be suitable for anyplace other than my home. I laugh telling friends who believe me when I say I have a PhD in lounging. Rather than remain in work, exercise, or out-on-the town wear, I come home and change immediately into clothing that is soft, mostly seamless, warm or cool (depending on the time of year), button-less, zipper-less, and washable. And, comfort extends to my environment as well. Oh sure, there’s the need for cushiony when it comes to furnishing, but that’s not all…

My level of comfort becomes excruiatingly comfortable at my finger tips. Unable to tolerate the same harsh lighting found in most office buildings, I instead, avoid overhead lighting and use lamps that provide a warm amber-like glow. Just one quick twist or flip of the light switch and my home conforms–making me sigh–Ah. Admittedly, the lighting is unsuitable for reading and writing–it’s what completes my comfort though. Overhead lighting is reserved for my bathroom. Kitchen and bedrooms require full exposure too and are used for scrutinizing my appearance, and ensuring food is prepared properly and delectably. And still, even in there, the lighting is only bright on demand.


Putting it all Aside

25 Dec

I was barely 12 years old when my grandmother died in 1971. She was 63. It’s Christmas morning and I began to wonder about my life, family events, and my mannerisms that are passed on to me from other family members. I wonder, who am I most like.

My mother, who at age 81, has many similarities, but mostly I resemble my grandmother. For years my mother would say, how my hair color, having a reddish tint was something inherited from my grandmother. Aside from that, I look nothing like her. I do know that like my grandmother, I love coffee. I drink it daily and unlike my mother. There are other similarities to my grandmother. And notably there are vast differences from my mother.

In school, I excelled at physical activities–While I looked forward to gym class, my mother was too sickly to participate. I became involved in any extra curriculum course that utilized my energy and spunk. Like grandmom, I was always ready to go…I drive fast like her too. My mother, on the other hand, learned to drive, but didn’t. She, instead, had patience to wait until she is offered a ride.

Patience is something I have very little of…

The point I’m making is perhaps people die before we think they should because our Saviour created us just so our loved ones live in us. And no one can have more than one persona.

I’ve invited several friends and of course my mother and nephew to celebrate Christmas Day at my home. When I began setting my table for guests and did some other chores, I thought about the significance of this day and remembered the few Christmas mornings I shared with my grandmother. When she died the family unity died too. But her life and the legacy of her remains in me.


Social etiquette

9 Dec

Social etiquette.

Social etiquette

8 Dec

From time to time, I receive email and even snail mail (US postage) from family without greetings. Sealed in a postmarked envelope is a photograph. Usually a picture of the parents with the children. The same goes for email. It arrives in my box with an attached photograph, or a link to a website with photos of a newborn.

Now I don’t know about you, but I learned to write when I was in grade school. No, I do not profess to be a great writer. However, I write something whenever there is something I believe is worth sharing with others.  And, because showing parts of my life is my way of including you in mine, I want you to know that you too are important to me even if we can’t be together. 

I know life is hectic and there is little time, but taking time to add a greeting and then adding my name, signing yours to a comment, is just and polite.

It doesn’t have to be complicated, just add a message along with the picture you send. Here’s another suggestion in case you can’t think of anything to say. How about:

Hi…thought you’d like to know we’re thinking about you.