I've always loved the baseball writing of Roger Angell in the New Yorker (my favorite magazine in any case). In a recent issue, he wrote this terrific article about what it's like to be 93 years old.
It's poignant, amazing, humorous and of course wonderfully crafted.
Here's the link: http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2014/02/17/140217fa_fact_angell
1. My health has stabilized (only occasional, and minor, heart symptoms)
2. Winter is moving along and will be over in a month
3. We are having a few days of thaw (related to #2)
4. My grief over losing my mother is fading (but I still want her back!)
5. My course load this semester is less burdensome than last semester
6. My husband loves me and tells me so all the time
7. In a few weeks, we're taking a short trip to Georgia, our first getaway since Thanksgiving
8. We have several dear friends, and I have two cherished brothers
9. I should be able to come up with 10 but will stop here.
Point being, it helps to focus on the good things.................
It's never bothered me to shovel snow. I like the exercise, the sense of accomplishment -- and of course the ability to get out of my driveway when I want to. So last Wednesday after a nasty storm of a few inches of snow topped off by several hours of sleet and freezing rain, I joined my husband for an hour of clearing our front walk and driveway.
About halfway through, I started to feel "taxed" and began sitting on the front porch for occasional breaks.
It was not a good thing to have done. Caused myself at least a couple of days of recurring heart symptoms similar to the ones I had before my recent angioplasty. Thursday and Friday, I felt awful and took nitro a few times to relieve the chest pressure.
What a dummy.
We saw "Wolf of Wall Street" Friday night -- hilarious -- and it distracted me from the discomfort. By Saturday I finally started to feel normal again.
My husband says no more snow shoveling for me, and I ain't gonna argue the point.
I went to church today for the first time since my heart procedure. It was a good service -- our pastor spoke about the amazing time he had on a recent mission trip to Africa -- Kenya and Ethiopia, to be precise. I almost always get sad in church though, and today was no exception--missing my parents. Only a few days before my mother had the stroke that led to her death on 3/21/12, she was suffering from so many pains (at 91, bless her) that she cried out "Why doesn't the Lord just take me?" It was a hard thing to hear, of course. But today I thought, oh how I hope that is where she is, with the Lord. She led a good and long life, she loved and was loved, and if there is a heavenly reward she is one who deserved it. Which of course has little or nothing to do with my headline about the dreadful winter! Ha.
As I look out my window now, it's gray on gray on gray, a chilly day in early February after a horrid January of extreme cold and significantly more snow and ice than our "normal" January. The few leaves left on the trees are shivering in the frigid wind. It's Super Bowl Sunday but we have no interest in the game, the spectacle, the media craziness, the commercials, so we don't pay attention to much of it. (I might try to see the halftime show to catch Bruno Mars though.)
Thanks to any who are reading this personal blog.
Blessings to you!