The front is big and black, predicts that the early part of winter will be severe. Look out east coast, as the storm rises from the south, working its way up the coast!
I think I may have had a revelation in the wee hours of this morning.
Now and then I read about slowly waking up and becoming aware of your surroundings. I don’t. I just POP and I’m awake. I never even realize I’m awake, I just am. My thoughts do not idly turn toward the day. They just are. A mile a minute. Then the cats come up to pretend their snuggle, when in reality they want to be fed now. I’ve got to hand it to them, they are shrewd!
Anyway, I’m thinking that this is what happens when you die. You don’t slowly and painfully realize it, you just are. You don’t even arrive bag in hand and say “where am I?” You just are there. It’s so ordinary it’s probably too profound to realize.
I’m guessing that my friend, Ruth, went through that. She had a cold (flu?) and wanted the comfort of her cot by her wood stove. She had her tea and her daughter helped her lay down. She shuffled to become comfortable. She slept. I can just see her now popping up and saying, “oh!” and looking around her. And then she got up and, I don’t know where she went, but assume she resumed her journey into afterlife. It would be nice to run into her and talk about it, but I’m not sure that happens. I know I will find out!
“Oh shoot! I should write about this! Let others know!” are my first thoughts (hence this post). Heck, I bet you don’t need me to tell you that. We will all find out on our own! I’m only letting you know in case you have concern, and just want you to rest easy. It will be okay.
Remember this old house? Still working on it.
I cannot say “we,” but he has been working onward with this house. Walls have been stripped to the board, windows removed, flooring taken up. Electrical wiring (mostly) removed. Exterior siding and tin roof removed.
This has been an experience and a long walk down memory lane for this man. Perhaps just short of a spiritual experience as he tears down this childhood home, to prepare for our future.
I’d love to take this into the woods and become Thoreau. Wouldn’t you?
I realize that all of my life I’ve been striving to not miss anything. I have almost missed it all, by this striving! Work, play, keeping up with the Jones’. It sneaks up on you.
In my old age, I now realize the importance of living in the day, and while planning for the morrow, to just take it one day at a time. It sort of sneaks up on you and it took me about 62 years to realize it.
Sir Hector, the derelict tomcat, sits by my doorstep, his food is gone in the barn. I feed him and he leaves. He comes back awhile later, he is hungry again. I feed him, he leaves. So I went downtown and bought “barn food” (aka cheap cat food) and he followed me back to the haymow, where the cats normally eat. He was the only one who steadfastly waits. He must be the king of the clan, you think? However, this simple act alone, has taught me something, and I’m grateful for it.
We only need to take care of today. Tomorrow has more, but today’s grace is sufficient.