I just wanted you to have these words. I needed them and wanted to keep them where I can return to them.
Each line is one to meditate on:
Trust the wait (Sometimes life gives us no other option but to do so).
Embrace the uncertainty (So hard to do – I’ve learned to “put up with,” but embrace? wow!).
Enjoy the beauty of becoming (This is where I’m living these days and the past few years).
When nothing is certain, ANYTHING is possible (Keeping these words before me and probably inking them on me – not permanently).
These words are for you and for me. For this week and next. And all the seconds we are sitting in.
xo . Trina
Image via La Dolce Vita
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Heaven knew we needed each other.
In the 1980’s and the here and now.
This is a story, a tribute, a mini-memoir, of my relationship with grandma who spent the last year of her life mentoring me.
It’s Sunday. I wake up before anyone; only to doze off for a wild dream and abruptly come to – rendering sleep to where it now shall wait, the days end.
I make a coffee. Decaf unfortunately. But because the headaches were even more unfortunate, I’m faithful and married to this hot cup of “I wish you’d wake me up.” Hazelnut creamer and in comes the cat.
The last few weeks have felt like pseudo summer. Living in the half relax. It feels like summer, but it doesn’t. We swim. We play outside. We eat ice cream. And, then we spend equal amounts of time at Doctor’s offices and stores stocking up. Ella needs braces and Rocco needs glasses. I need a second opinion for both. We tired in trying on clothes to see what still fits and what we grew out of. Legs grew longer than the weeds this sticky summer. We made it through shots without any tears, which was a first in my thirteen years of motherhood. We stayed up late and thought, with contempt, about how, in days, we’d be getting up early, again.
This is what I call pseudo summer.
The long days, late mornings and twist cones trick us into thinking it will never end, but school supplies, shots and sports practices tell us otherwise.
Every year I’m racing the clock to get all of the “to dos” that need doing done. I don’t call it procrastination, I call it . . .
tears of grief
i’m fascinated by the research of rose-lynn fisher on the topography of tears. have you seen this?
it’s a study of 100 photographed tears through a standard light microscope. going through a period of change and loss. rose-lynn wondered if tears of grief differed from tears of happiness. and, as you can see the images are nothing short of beautiful, some evoking the look of a map or landscape (thus the name of the project, topography of tears). Take a look at what our tears tell us.