thoughts on a saturday – make it rain

Ed says I am the most hopeful person he knows, that I can turn anything around. I can – and do – see the good everywhere.

Kristina says I am a glass is 90% full person. She’s right. I see the best in people. I live in hope.

But I am no saint. I hope they would tell you that, too.

I can be cranky. Irritable. Defensive. But not for long. Ed says my cranky is more cheerful than most people’s good day.

Not so. I can be bitchy. But not very often.

The fact is, I am terrified of wasting my time on cranky and bitchy.

One day, two towers came down. Four planes crashed. Many people died.

And of course, people die every day. Every way, sometimes, in awful ways – illness, accident, intentional harm.

This is not to minimise that.

But that day when the towers fell and the planes crashed?

Something changed in me.

  • I want to never be the person who regrets always remember fondly the way I left a loved one. (Thank you, Kristina.)
  • I want my last words, my last memories to hold or to leave behind, to be ones of hope, of love, of joy.
  • I want to celebrate life, to savour every last sweaty drop, to breathe in colour and light, to exhale compassion.

We have right now in front of us.

Do we really have time to give it any less than our whole hearts?

4 Comments

  • I would change one thing–you say you “want to never be the person who regrets the way I left a loved one” but why not rephrase that in the positive? Do you want to never regret, or do you want to always remember fondly the way you left a loved one?

    • I appreciate that edit so much – it feels much more like me to phrase it in the positive, and captures what inspired me to write that idea at all.

      We watched a 9/11 anniversary show last fall, including an interview with a man who lost two grown sons – one a firefighter, one a police officer – that day.

      The father had seen or talked to each of his adult sons in the few days before. His last words to – and from – his sons were, “I love you.” No tough guy reticence there.

      He keeps fond memories. And they have helped to heal his heart and his loss.

      I love you, Kristina.

    • I’m glad the words found you, then. We are all reaching out to each other. Thank you for stopping by. I’m excited to get to meet you soon.

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