A Lot Can Change in A Week's Time

Christmas left me exhausted, but Monday afternoon I connected with my therapist who made some time to see me Tuesday evening. I am grateful for his listening ear. He doesn't so much give advice as ask questions and gently help me readjust perspectives. The three day New Year weekend has melted the tension away and I am looking forward to what the future holds.

Yesterday I took Number Nine to Number Ten's birthday party. I needed my GPS to find the party venue and Idris was quite taken by "Tom." The birthday party was a success. I watched my little grandson's eyes light up when he opened our gift, a Toy Story Slinky Dog and RC the Remote Controlled Car. It was priceless.

This morning I watched church online and my friend Laura picked me up for breakfast a little after 10 am. We went to the Golden Boys Restaurant in the Webster village. We were sitting at our table when another couple came in, and elderly woman and a man, probably her son. I recognized her immediately. I had seen her just last week when I'd stopped at my old church in Webster to drop off some money to my friend Lydia. I'd hugged her then, but I was wearing a mask and I'm not sure she even recognized me. Today, though, our eyes met and it was instant recognition. We shared a long, tight hug, just like we did years ago when she and her husband had sat next to James and me in church every Sunday morning. I told her I've missed her and that I love her, and I know she's missed and loved me too. She's lost her husband since I left James and started attending a different church. I can't tell her our story, I can only hope she knows how much she means to me. I missed her many, many Sunday mornings after I moved.

Laura and I decided to be brave after breakfast, and after I changed my pants and found a warmer coat, we headed down to the lake and did a little beach combing. I filled my glove with pieces of beach glass while she put her treasures in her pocket. It was cold, wet, and misty. The waves rolled in and out along the shore. Perfectly peaceful. Only a full bladder could drag us home.

Back at the house I made a pot of coffee in Dad's old stainless steel dripolator that I gifted myself from a box in the attic. Years ago when my parents lived here, Mom and Dad would make and serve her coffee in one of these old pots. The house is still loving the same friends it sheltered so many years ago. I am so blessed.