My hope is to make Wednesday’s Words an every now and again event. These posts will feature the words of others in writing or other art forms.
Today’s words are words fitting for the times we are living in and should all be putting into action.
Image attribution (dictionary/lamp): Flickr via Brian Sawyer
In January, I posted this update relating to my site and my thoughts on future writing plans. At the time, I chose a new title for my site. That was not to imply I wasn’t happy with the previous title, The Writing Studio. It didn’t seem to fit my online persona as well as it did the actual studio my husband designed and built for me.
- Wake up every morning looking forward to spending each day with the love of my life, 24/7, no less.
- Listen to classical music every day, whether via radio, CDs, or Bob practicing one of his many horns.
- Love our home and care for it as I have always done, except when unable to because of pain.
- Spread our love to our kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids despite the miles separating us.
- Gardening! I haven’t been able to dig in the dirt and garden for so many summers now. I’ve watched Bob do it all and longed to be out there with him.
- Volunteer my time as I am able, especially with the Mothers of Preschoolers program.
- Ride in our red convertible come spring and summer down those long, lazy country back roads.
- Write, write, write! Whatever I choose to write. Whatever I want to write. Simply because I want to write. Not because I’m looking to make a name for myself as a writer, or get rich as a writer, or whatever. I love words and writing them down. And I love telling stories.
- And whatever I’m doing I want to do it all giving the credit and glory to God.
Ever notice how memories slip into the activities of our everyday lives? Things we don’t think of until something or someone triggers that long ago memory and it rushes to the forefront of our minds.
Several years ago while caring for my mother, near the end of her life, I wanted to help get her to eat. She’d suffered another of several congestive heart failure episodes, and the nurses encouraged some fruit. I brought bananas, something I knew she enjoyed.
Recently staff had begun mashing her food, so I mashed the bananas. Their aroma overwhelmed my senses. You know…that smell only a fresh banana has.
As I continued mashing, I remembered doing the same for my son when he was an infant. No doubt Mama had mashed bananas for him, and other grandchildren, and for her children.
My next thoughts moved to contemplate how the cycle of life catches up with us in the mundane. As my mind wandered back through generations, I imagined my grandmother engaged in the same activity, and her mother, and on and on.
Among my thoughts was the process of aging. As we age our bodies and our abilities revert to how we were as children. Unable to care for ourselves. Unable to read or write. Even in our eating things change.
Life — its beginning and ending so similar.
The word “writing” above could refer to many forms of writing. Handwriting, cursive writing, writing checks, writing the grocery list, writing a book, and I could go on.
But the writing I’m talking about isn’t listed above. I wonder what happened to handwritten letters and notes. You know–the kind you place in an envelope and mail with a stamp?
I remember as a young woman in college in the mid-1960s running to the student union where our mailboxes were built into one wall. A peek into the small glass window revealed whether or not to waste your time unlocking the box.
Most of us longed for letters from anywhere or anyone, even our parents and siblings. Letters from our parents were at the top of the list if a check was also enclosed.
Favored above all were letters from high school friends or friends serving in the military. For me, it was a cousin serving in the Navy who told of exciting days and nights while stationed off the coastline of Greece.
Wayne could tell me of things he saw and visited that I would never travel to see. He wrote of Greek meals that made my mouth water. His description of life on the aircraft carrier was almost as foreign as the culture of the Greek people.
I rarely receive a handwritten letter or note anymore. It’s an element of our social upbringing that I truly miss. Email and the Internet have effectively almost eliminated this custom.
Image attribution: Via Pixabay; no attribution required.