I spent part of the day yesterday on a Turkey Soup hike sponsored by Venture Outdoors. We were at Riverview Park in North Side, where, I'm told, they have more trails than any other park in the city. I'm an intermittent exerciser. I use a step counter daily because I'm ever mindful of the need to exercise and increase my steps daily. I wake up daily with good intentions. So off I went, with my sister, my cousin, and my niece on an "easy" 3.5 mile hike through the park. It was raining and cold, definitely not the most pleasant walk. But the company was good, and the turkey soup was delicious, eaten in front of the fireplace in the shelter. Unfortunately, by the time I got home the damp socks were cold and soaking my calves. I took a hot shower and dressed warm and then immediately felt the fatigue of all my muscles hitting me. Just as the Steeler game started up, I sat down and zoned out for about a 3 quarter nap. But my total steps for yesterday were over 9000, so that's good. I just need to find a way to do that without zapping all my energy.
Today is my nephew's birthday. Happy Birthday Adam! He's 32 today. This is the day I traditionally start to play my Christmas Carols. I have to admit, I'm apprehensive though. Every time I hear a line from "I'll be home for Christmas" or "Noel" or "It came Upon a Midnight Clear," I start to tear up. I know that it's partly my normal Christmas blues. I always feel sad this month missing my grandmother, who died in December in 1980, and missing my cousins who have passed away in recent years. This year, I can't even think about Christmas, without starting to cry because I miss my Mother. It doesn't matter that she wasn't herself when she died (Alzheimer's) or that I know she wouldn't have wanted to be here in that way. I just miss her. And I feel like a little girl who just wants her mama. Christmas Eve will be 6 months that she's been gone, and I want to just sit down and bawl my eyes out. It seems the numbness of her death has passed, and now there's just heart-aching pain.
I spent a couple days this past week, hand quilting on my oldest son's high school graduation quilt. He graduated in 1999. But I started hand-quilting this one and didn't really want to finish it on the machine. But he's bought a house now and is making moves in his life, so I'd like to give it to him before we reach the 10th anniversary of this graduation. My goal for the next few months is to finish this project. It's a lovely blue and white Jacob's Ladder quilt. I am such a better machine piecer and quilter now than I was when I started this, but I can't fix that now.
"Little Steps, Ellie." Mark always quotes that line from the movie CONTACT, when I'm impatient about getting something done. It's a good reminder for all that I'm trying to do. That goes for quilting, exercising, and getting through the pain. Little steps.
Monday, December 1, 2008
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1 comment:
Hi Mrs. Sal,
I was reading this blog, and it reminded me of the things my mom said the Christmas after my grandma died. The best advice she ever received is that the only way to move forward is to never forget to look back. It sounds strange when put that way, but you can never let go. Your mother may be gone in the physical sense, but it's up to you and your family to keep her alive in spirit. We always try to do something that reminds us of my grandma during the holidays. Maybe your family could add something new that can keep your memories of her alive :) Just thought you needed a little word of encouragement today. It will always be hard, but you'll slowly get strong enough to tolerate it.
Happy Holidays!
Love,
Gretchen
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