The older I get, the more I am struck by the necessity to cherish each day as it comes, to live each to the fullest, to appreciate and savor NOW…and under no circumstances—fair wind or foul—to wish the days away.
And therein lies the battle being fought in my mind and heart right now: There are seventeen of those pesky little buggers (days) between me and a long rest on a warm sandy beach. The days promise to be full enough—I have two "events" this weekend, plus a Mothers' Day Brunch to plan, execute, and survive. I think I can make it. I think I can…
But if I listen to the little guy in the red suit with the forked tail and the horns, the one who is sitting on my left shoulder whispering in my ear, I can hear, "Why not just close it up now? Who will it hurt? Why should you toss away two more weeks of your life on top of the 220 you've already dumped into this venture which…has not been exactly a success?" Oh…that little demon is making a lot of sense right now.
But no…I won't do it. I'll see this thing through to the end. Hoping the Universe will grant me deafness to that pesky little voice, and little joys and victories to keep my head above water until I reach that beach. My feet are almost touching the bottom, now…
Almost there!
ReplyDeleteAnd the Mother's Day folks will love what you do.
I hope you can hear the vibrant spirit that's in these latest posts of yours.
ReplyDelete...and here's the thing, right now those 18 days feel like an eternity, but I promise they will fly by and when you are on the other side (the beach side) looking back, you'll barely remember this....
ReplyDelete...and yes, I suspect the folks who come for Mother's Day will be grateful.
I'm betting you'll be missed. And we're all looking forward to hearing your voice again.
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