Thanks to all of my regular readers for putting up with my ramblings and also to all of you out there who happen to drop by while surfing the web. Please sign My Guest Book on the Home Page if the mood strikes you! |
Monday, January 14, 2002 * we have today... As you can see, I'm still trying to find the new journal design for 2002. Please bear with me. I want simple, easy to read, and it must fit a certain comfort zone that's mine. Does that sound too weird? It's OK if it does. I don't mind being a bit weird. Now for today's subject. I planned to talk a little about my last week in San Antonio. In fact, I wrote a journal entry there to be posted my first day back. But this morning my thoughts took a different turn. During the night and early this morning as I lay in my bed comfortable and warm alongside my DH, I was thinking about something that I mentioned back on January 3rd - something I was compelled to do that can't be gotten into here. Anyway, I've been worrying it to death thinking maybe it wasn't the best thing to do - even though my mind tells me otherwise (one of those decisions that make sense but hurt the heart). Finally I came to this point. I can't linger over what's past or worry about what's to come. The only thing we really have is today. This is truth (or at least, this is truth for me). I believe this with my whole heart and will work on staying focused on today. What can I do today that will make someone's life a little easier, a little happier, a little better? As I've mentioned before, Mother Teresa once said that Man was not meant to do great things, only little things with great love. I like that. Art Garfunkel in his songs, "Bridge over Troubled Water" and another that I can't remember the name of - it was a love song written by Paul Simon that had the words, "there but for the grace of you, go I..." soothed my soul and comforted me in a way that was long time coming. He said that he'd had a good life - that "we" (the public) had supported him all his life and he seemed quietly grateful. I could only think how grateful I was at that moment for him and his songs. I'd forgotten the magic of music. Not that I haven't enjoyed the Symphony before. We have. We do. But his music touched my heart and... (to borrow the old phrase) set me free. And I wasn't expecting it - so it was an unforseen joy. Listening to the music, my mind wondered to my brother's illness and death in August 2000 - to doing all the things that I didn't want to do, but must either because they had to be done or because I really had no choice. Thought also about all the things that I didn't do that will haunt me for the rest of my life... and finally accepted this fact. Thought also about all the fear that surrounded me that summer with my own diagnosis of BC and how often I cried on the sofa alone in the middle of the night during that time out of fear and frustration for Bill and myself. Flashbacks of DH holding me as I said over and over, I don't want this to be happening... (remembering my brother saying the same words in the hospital towards the end). No, life isn't always easy. But then there were/are the good times. The living, loving, and laughter past (my sister - she also died of Cancer at 50 - was such a fun person, full of life. My dad - died of Cancer at 75 - had a wonderful dry English wit and was such a good man, and Bill - had an infectious laugh that would double me over in laughter and tears) and... the living, loving, and laughter now. Yes, I've had a good life too - and am very grateful. Rian |
From Dawn to Dusk... the journal |
Monday, January 14, 2002 * we have today... As you can see, I'm still trying to find the new journal design for 2002. Please bear with me. I want simple, easy to read, and it must fit a certain comfort zone that's mine. Does that sound too weird? It's OK if it does. I don't mind being a bit weird. Now for today's subject. I planned to talk a little about my last week in San Antonio. In fact, I wrote a journal entry there to be posted my first day back. But this morning my thoughts took a different turn. During the night and early this morning as I lay in my bed comfortable and warm alongside my DH, I was thinking about something that I mentioned back on January 3rd - something I was compelled to do that can't be gotten into here. Anyway, I've been worrying it to death thinking maybe it wasn't the best thing to do - even though my mind tells me otherwise (one of those decisions that make sense but hurt the heart). Finally I came to this point. I can't linger over what's past or worry about what's to come. The only thing we really have is today. This is truth (or at least, this is truth for me). I believe this with my whole heart and will work on staying focused on today. What can I do today that will make someone's life a little easier, a little happier, a little better? As I've mentioned before, Mother Teresa once said that Man was not meant to do great things, only little things with great love. I like that. Art Garfunkel in his songs, "Bridge over Troubled Water" and another that I can't remember the name of - it was a love song written by Paul Simon that had the words, "there but for the grace of you, go I..." soothed my soul and comforted me in a way that was long time coming. He said that he'd had a good life - that "we" (the public) had supported him all his life and he seemed quietly grateful. I could only think how grateful I was at that moment for him and his songs. I'd forgotten the magic of music. Not that I haven't enjoyed the Symphony before. We have. We do. But his music touched my heart and... (to borrow the old phrase) set me free. And I wasn't expecting it - so it was an unforseen joy. Listening to the music, my mind wondered to my brother's illness and death in August 2000 - to doing all the things that I didn't want to do, but must either because they had to be done or because I really had no choice. Thought also about all the things that I didn't do that will haunt me for the rest of my life... and finally accepted this fact. Thought also about all the fear that surrounded me that summer with my own diagnosis of BC and how often I cried on the sofa alone in the middle of the night during that time out of fear and frustration for Bill and myself. Flashbacks of DH holding me as I said over and over, I don't want this to be happening... (remembering my brother saying the same words in the hospital towards the end). No, life isn't always easy. But then there were/are the good times. The living, loving, and laughter past (my sister - she also died of Cancer at 50 - was such a fun person, full of life. My dad - died of Cancer at 75 - had a wonderful dry English wit and was such a good man, and Bill - had an infectious laugh that would double me over in laughter and tears) and... the living, loving, and laughter now. Yes, I've had a good life too - and am very grateful. Rian |
Thanks to all of my regular readers for putting up with my ramblings and also to all of you out there who happen to drop by while surfing the web. Please sign My Guest Book on the Home Page if the mood strikes you! |
