Just for me

This post is intended just for me.  To record my thoughts and memories of the holidays and holidays past, documenting my thoughts so hopefully one day my granddaughter or grandson will read and understand more of who I was.

As I approach 61 years of age, sometimes I feel old. I look old. I worry that I will act old.  I desire to be helpful to others, to be wise in my interactions, compassionate, forgiving, and full of life and love. The reality is most times I am not those things, and sometimes it is a struggle to be those things, to determine or will to be those things when emotions get in the way.

The holidays have never been my favorite time of the year.  I grew up in a somewhat dysfunctional home, but don't most of us?  My mother loved us the best she could, but being married at 17, I don't think she ever knew how to clean house (or maybe just didn't want to do it) so it was always a wreck, unorganized, and chaotic. My dad once told me that early on he learned he could have a happy marriage or a clean house, but not both.  He was a wise man.  The state of our home bothered me as I got older.  I visited friends' homes and saw that they didn't live that way. I was embarrassed to have friends over. I did not learn how to clean or cook until an older married friend taught me as a 20 year old young bride myself. To her I will forever be grateful.

Some may say I'm rather obsessed about my home now, but you could look in my closets and know otherwise.  However I've learned that cleanliness and order bring peace. My home is my sanctity. It relieves the stresses of the world. I realize it isn't easy to keep that order and cleanliness for many, who are distracted, stressed about other things, irritated with their children or spouse, but I long to help them see how it can alleviate their disorganized and chaotic home lives. Help them not to lose things. Help them make housekeeping easier and even a joy to do for their family.

Is that what it is like when you get older?  You've learned important things in your 60 years, but no one wants to listen? I once read about an older woman who was convinced she was invisible.  No one paid any mind to her, listened to her, asked about her day, or her interests.  I worry about that for myself, but am determined not to be one of those people who does that to others.  It doesn't come easily for me as an introvert. I didn't do so well with my own mother as she aged. We never really communicated well. I harbored resentment for a lot of things.  I was the youngest of four, an "accident" and I felt like I basically raised myself.  I do have regrets that I was not attentive or compassionate enough with her. I can't change the past but I can change for the future.

I really have to work at serving others, caring for others, even talking to others, and I have to pray daily to help me be a blessing to someone who needs one. Some days I succeed, other days my own selfish interests win.

So today, I have cooked a meal for a young neighbor who came home yesterday from the hospital with her second child.  I hope she smiles and enjoys the food, and is thankful that someone cared enough to make her little family life a bit easier, if only for this day.  Thank you Father for the opportunity to serve.  Help me to focus outward and not inward and be thankful that you came to earth to save us from ourselves, to teach us a better way.

And for my heirs who may read this one day, here is my sanctity. My home. Where I long to have you visit, play games with me, talk to me, tell me about your interests, your loves, your work, your life.  Where you will let me teach you things I've learned over my 61 years.

 The pictures over the piano are you. It gives me so much joy to see them each day.

 This little bedroom was designed just for you. I long for the day you'll spend some nights here. I can almost hear the giggling, the wiggling that will happen in this little room.

 Here is where you'll bathe, and brush your teeth, getting ready for bed.

 This room, I hope, will be used to make crafts, to learn to sew....

 Here is where you'll sit and talk to me, at the island. Where I'll hear your stories. Where you'll eat food I prepare for you.

 Am I dreaming? Is this wishful thinking? Or just the simple longing of a woman growing older without little ones or family close by during the holidays.

So until you, my heirs, can come visit I will busy myself with others who may not have family living close, like us.

We shared our home with our Sunday School class last evening for a festive meal and fellowship. We will share a meal with my brother, sister-in-law, and two nephews on Christmas Eve. This is a welcomed event.  Since Mom passed we haven't gotten together at any holidays and I've really missed it.

I returned a couple of weeks ago from a visit with my son and his family, and my heart is still sore from the pain of leaving them, not to see them for several months.  I have to get over that, and I'm sure being a blessing to others will help me not to focus on my own heartaches. Everyone has pain of some kind in their lives. There are many whose heartaches are so great, I feel ashamed for being sad at this holiday.  However, feelings are feelings and we shouldn't compare heartaches.

So, if you are a casual reader, I apologize for my ramblings.  If you are an heir in my lineage, know I have loved you to the moon and back. I want you to know who I am, or who I was. Thank you for reading.

 (I print my blog every couple of years to document our lives for my grandchildren)