Bubble Baths and Me Time

I remember the days of interruptions, squabbling children, meals to fix, housecleaning, laundry, endless hours of being a mother, housekeeper, bookkeeper, cook and chauffer, all on top of working outside the home at a full-time job.

So many times I longed for peace and quiet…a few hours to rest quietly and regain energy. Usually those moments were found in a bubble bath behind a bathroom door that didn’t lock. During two plus years of that time, there were studies for a college degree.

How did I manage? It seems God gives us the strength to persevere and endure. I hear many young mothers complaining and longing for respite. Perhaps it is a perpetual desire for “me” time.

I have all the “me” time I could ever desire in this stage of life. If only I could have foreseen this time coming and all it meant, I might have taken more pleasure in the hectic years of raising a family. Or not. For there was little free time to think what the future might hold.

Quiet surrounds me. I hear only the tapping of the keyboard and the sound of raindrops on the window of this rainy morning. I talk to myself because I need to hear the sound of voices.

I sip my tea in silent pleasure and wish my husband would wander to the doorway to read me something from the morning newspaper. I miss his voice. I miss his embraces. I miss the warmth of his body next to mine in the bed at night. Despite these things, life moves on. And God continues to provide strength to persevere and endure.

Years of Blessing

I think my mom would have enjoyed living here. The last years of her life, she spent all day and evening watching television and solving word search puzzles. I can see her sitting on the porch and passing time. Add my late husband to a chair beside her and I can hear them exchanging stories. I’d be sitting across from them and listening with a happy heart. It might encourage me to put bird food out to draw the birds closer since both of them liked to watch birds.

Mom lived in a wooded valley and often had visitors of the furry masked kind. She fed the racoons bread and leftovers and always had a pan of water for them to wash their hands. When we’d visit, it was a treat for us when they would knock on her door asking for dinner. We’d stay inside and watch them with awe since we were city dwellers.

Some mornings I watch my quiet landscape and enjoy happy memories. Sipping a cup of tea with gratitude for the years of blessing in my life.

Night Time Battles

Dear Reader,

My hubby could always lay his head on the pillow at night and be asleep in less than five minutes. Every single night. I never understood how he could do this. I wish I did.

My sleepless nights are many. This morning I’m moving with three hours sleep. I’m surprised I got that much! After turning off the lights last night at my normal bedtime, I couldn’t remain still long enough for sleep to capture me. I had to move. I tried mind over matter, but my mind wouldn’t focus on anything except the need to move my leg! Finally, I gave up and turned on the television. I began watching episodes of “Call the Midwife” which sometimes will cause my eyelids to droop. Not so last night. I watched one episode right after another until three a.m. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep in because Templeton (my cat) has a built-in body clock which insists I rise no later than six thirty a.m.

Aging gracefully requires getting a good night’s sleep. This morning I’m suffering with foggy brain and a very bad hair day. I would be poor company for anyone who would be living with me today. Doesn’t help that outside my window I see dimly through a dense fog. On days following sleepless nights, my brain works in slow motion. There will be no writing today.

Many seniors experience sleepless nights or so I’ve read or heard. In my younger years, I stayed up until one or two in the morning writing and then slept for four or five hours, rose bright-eyed and ready for my job in the corporate world. Now that I’m retired with no daily outside commitments, one would think sleeping would come easy. I require seven to eight hours of sleep every night now. Sigh. The pattern following a sleepless night usually is another night or two the same followed by a night when I can’t keep my eyes open after seven p.m.

How about you? Do you suffer with night time battles? Do you have a remedy? If so, please share. And now I’ve got to brew a cup of tea…which normally would be sitting beside my laptop. Foggy brain is to blame. And so, dear reader, I will be eagerly looking forward to any suggestions to combat my sleepless nights. Signing off until next week,

Love, Carol Ann

Aging Gracefully as a Writer

I pray for God to lead me when I write, whether it be a blog post, a Facebook post, or a book scene. I’m nothing without Him. He called me to be a writer long ago. Even though I’ve said no and turned my back on doing His will many times, He is still faithful. My senior years provide uninterrupted time to devote to writing, and writing makes me happy. Through writing for Him, I am blessed.

Yesterday I was grateful when my characters took the lead, surprising me with whose point of view I’d write in! I wasn’t sure how the scene would play out or end. The scene seemed to write itself. I’ve learned long ago, to let God lead my characters through my writing. After all He is the Author of Creation!

Having lived through more than half of last century and over twenty years in this one, I’ve learned lessons along the way. God teaches me through daily life because I’m willing and eager to grow and become the person He wants me to be. Why now when I am considered old?

Younger people might see me as having already lived my life, as one who is resting each day, rocking and waiting to join Jesus. I do rest each day, and I do rock. I’ve always loved to rock. I rocked my babies, my grandbabies, and now I rock to meditate and to read. Those times, though, do not dominate my daily routine, but are vital to do my best. With my eyes open, the Holy Spirit shows me opportunities missed and those I didn’t. And I learn from these moments. I learn I’m still a work in progress, and God’s given purpose for me has not yet been completed. It’s all part of aging gracefully.

One Foot in Today, One Foot in Yesterday

So here it is April 1st of 2022. Amazing. Twenty two years plus into this century. I never in my wildest imagination saw me in this year prior to the turning of the century. The word century makes me think old. I am old in the eyes of those born in this century. I’m a relic.

This makes me laugh. My mind doesn’t see old any longer. Each day is an awesome gift to be savored and cherished. My body ages but my mind sees only possibilities in each given moment. Life is beautiful.

I’m happily sipping on my morning cup of Earl Grey Decaffeinated tea. My morning indulgence. In 1950, I never thought I’d have a machine to brew my tea. Maybe that’s why I place a tea bag in my mug and use the machine to add the hot water. I can’t see purchasing those little pod things when I can get a box of tea bags less expensive. LOL! But I’m buying into the faster cup of tea instead of wasting electricity while my teakettle heats for 10 minutes or more. I have one foot in 2022 and one foot in 1950.

Outside I watch a light rain falling with no hint of the snow flurries mixed in earlier. It’s a new day, a new month, and God woke me to be part of it all. I smile as I give thanks for this day, this moment, and this soothing cup of tea.