How are you? I'll discuss today's topic after my gratitudes.
I've been on the go for several days. Thursday, I met with friends. Afterward, some of us took in a movie: "Thor." My oldest son is a manager at a twenty-five-screen theater, and I get to see first-run movies for free. It makes me a popular date. :-> (Free large bag of popcorn and soda too, if desired.)
My Gratitudes Before Saturday Rolls Around:
1. I rested today. Nice. I stayed home this evening; I'm gearing up for Saturday, which will be eventful and carry on until late.
2. I visited with my oldest son Thursday. I'm proud of him: he's working hard: he's completing college, works a job, and now has been elected as president of the local chapter of the American Marketing Association. (He's a business major.)
The honesty and openness we share are heartening. It was good hearing my son laugh while we visited. Stress is an ongoing part of his life. Sharing light-hearted moments was good for both of us. Connecting and discussing any issue is easy for us; our bond makes my heart smile.
3. I purchased a book to replace one of the seven vital books I lost recently. I've been eking out my studies for my personal growth. I now have three; I borrowed two others from a friend.
The ones lost are irreplaceable. Hundreds of cross-references I hand wrote in each. 300-500 added entries to the indexes I also had in them. Not to mention my marginalia, which was microscopic and copious. I've studied these books daily for years, close to a decade. They each had more than three thousand+ hours of notes in them. They are what contribute the bulk of what you hear from me when you visit me here.
These books stirred my personal growth, offered wise perspectives, and provided inner healing and clarity. I suffer not having them. It's challenging opening up "naked" unmarked books. They're not the same. Insights captured over the years and embedded in them are gone. It's hard starting all over again. But...........
4. I'm glad that I'm gradually rebuilding my library's vital, integral core.
Making the Most Out of Our Lives
Tomorrow is Not Guaranteed
Seeing friends last night was a great way to conclude the week. They're beautiful people. What I like best is that everyone is emotionally healthy. They've worked through their issues. I value their warmth, insight, and kindness.
There was a shocker to this week's gathering. One person blithely shared she recently visited the doctor. Armida fell and thought she had cracked vertebrae. The hospital did an MRI, finding out that was the least of her worries: she's severely riddled with cancer. This voracious disease is in her bones, lymph nodes, and lungs. It may travel to her brain. They've given her 3-6 months to live.
Tears streamed down my face as she calmly shared the news with a bright, sincere smile. Gosh. In shock, unable to comprehend what she said, I was. "This could not be??" I thought. What she shared was incongruent with her calm and positive demeanor.
Speaking with her, one-on-one, later, culminated in giving Armida a big hug----a request of hers. Visiting her, bringing mutual friends, I intend on doing. I'll act soon, while she's mentally clear, and even after when she isn't. Guitar I'll bring. Music comforts the soul, don't you agree? Her illness strikes an emotional chord; I've been assisting someone who's recovering from cancer surgery on her leg since last July. Also, my dad died from prostate cancer not long ago.
We want to let our loved ones know we love them; tomorrow is not guaranteed.
How About You?
1. Who is someone you feel strongly prompted to visit? My encouragement is to do it.
2. What has been a big shock you've experienced lately? If you feel comfortable sharing it with us, that would be great. If not, you may want to get it out of your system by sharing this disturbing news with a caring, empathetic friend. It works. I know from personal experience
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Update: 8/4/11 My dear friend Armida died Monday, 8/1/11, at 12:55 p.m., surrounded by family and loved ones. I was fortunate enough to serenade her twice this month. Most recently, Sunday, the night before her departure.
Armida's irrepressible spirit left an indelible imprint on this writer. Her death is my loss and that of those who knew her. You can read the story about the innkeeper serenading her, her dancing eyes, and an unexpected but comforting guest here.
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