Sunday, October 5, 2008

How a day turns to.......

You’re always on your way somewhere. The key is: find a way to be happy wherever you now are on your way to where you really want to be. (We’re speaking of the state of being you want.) It does not matter where you are; where you are is shifting constantly—but you must turn your attention to where you want to go. And that’s the difference between making the best of something and making the worst of something.

Excerpted from a workshop in Detroit, MI on Saturday, September 27th, 2003

Our Love,
Jerry and Esther

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(I managed to truncate the message above and it made no sense. Here is the complete text of the quote:)

"Your're always on your way somewhere. The key is: Find a way to be happy wherever you are on your way to where you really want to be. (We're speaking of the state of being you want.)

It does not matter where you are; where you are is shifting constantly--but you must turn your attention to where you want to go. And that's the difference between making the best of something and making the worst of something."


It's a bit coincidental that this message turned up in my "thought for the day" email this morning. It's a day late. I should have had this to reflect on yesterday morning and my day may have gone better. The short sentence is simply: I let a series of little things get to me yesterday morning. Later in the day when asked how I was doing with the grief thing, I had a major meltdown. Before I hardly knew what was happening, I was crying and couldn't stop.
The end result of my day was exactly the opposite of what I'd planned. I'd gone to see my elderly aunts (each 92 years young!) to give them a fun and exciting day...and they were consoling ME!

"FrogFriend" Gail and I intended to push their wheelchairs all over downtown Charlotte, feed them a nice lunch and return them home tired and ready for bed right after the evening meal.
Those old girls were up, bathed, dressed and waiting on us before 8 AM. It was not to be.

Gail had to go a different direction. Her brother had a massive heart attack and she had to go to Mercy Hospital instead. My heart and my thoughts are with her. This morning's news is that there is nothing they can do for him and it's "just a matter of time." That event, and knowing what my friend may be experiencing in the next days, brought my own grief to the surface and it went downhill from there.

The series of needling events was just that...little aggravations that, on a good day, would get no more than an exasperated sigh out of me before I continued on with the program. When I went to make my morning coffee, I noticed that the kitchen and den smelled like dog pee! Thank you little rescue babies for these "presents." No problem, I'd get the mop water ready and mop/disinfect my way out the door. (You have to admit, I gave keeping the GOOD attitude the old college try!)

When I got the call to go pick up the rescues, I was in the middle of making chicken pies for the freezer. I had the filling and the pie crust made, but no assembly had taken place yet. I put it all the fridge and jumped in the van to pick up the three whizzers. The next night was another van trip to meet their transport. Chicken pie foiled again, so I moved the bag of filling to the freezer. While mopping floors I thought, well...maybe this is chicken pie day at the old folks since our other plans didn't work out. Good idea. I grabbed the bag and the pie crust and we were good to go.

Except that as soon as I'd mopped and disinfected pee out of my house, the first thing I smelled when I got in the van...pee. One (or more) of those boys had nailed my upholstery in transport. This, I didn't have time to clean with my favorite old ladies waiting on me. They think you've had an accident if you're a little late. (The odor was really great too after mellowing in the sun for a day or two.) I drove the next hour to their house with all this, shall we say, "negative aroma-therapy" pummelling my senses. In their driveway, I was never so grateful to get out of that van and slam the door!

Inside the house, I was attempting to lessen their disappointment from the nixed outing by feeding them my world-famous chicken pie. That was not to be either. In my haste to get on my way...the "bag" I'd pulled from the freezer was NOT my chicken pie filling. It was the BONES I'd frozen for stock later. (Thank you Emeril, I will probably never freeze another chicken bone. Do you have any idea what I'd like to do with these chicken bones about now ? Here's a tip for ya. Don't bend over in front of me any time soon, now y'heah?)

My Aunt Ruth, aka "Meemaw" could see I was stressing over another foiled chicken pie attempt, and tried to change the subject. She asked how I was doing emotionally over Angie, and I had one of the worst breakdowns I've had since the funeral. The waterworks was on full blast for awhile. My apologies to my lovely sweet old aunts. I sure failed my mission of making their day better yesterday. I just made them worry about me instead.

Today began much better. I had the leisure of my morning meditations and I'm reaching for the better thoughts. There's still the negative aspect of that van though. I think the best way to deal with that is throw both sliding doors and the hatch open for a couple hours before I go near it! :)

Today, I'm back on track. I'm choosing the better way.


Barb said...

Judy, I'm so sorry about your day. Seems once it starts to go ~ the downhill slide just takes over. I have days where I just give it up and plan to start over the next day. Glad your next day was better. Hugs to you from all of us here and I've got a little something on the way to you via snail mail very soon.

Judy said...

I think that crying is necessary, as well as healing. I'd just rather it happen in a private moment at home instead of upsetting the old folks who had thought I was doing so well at adjusting. Actually, I am doing well. Saturday was the anomaly.

A surprise? Boy I love things to look forward to. THANKS! Can't wait! :)