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A friend called and let me know about a craft's fair, Saturday, November 6, 2010, at the Senior Citizen's place and I'm glad about that. I called and they said, "Come on." The crafts things are not really lucrative, but just an opportunity to meet neighbors. I need to be more careful about picking up cards, names and telephone numbers.
Shut in like I am, I do understand anxiousness about what the future holds for us. I suppose aging is a universal eventuality. Different cultures handle this differently. The Natives used to have a great way, but only in my tribe, do I know of that. They grouped together and called themselves, "Little Orphans,"
and I apologize, I can't remember the Native words. It is charming to hear a young person speak of someone deceased and then add the word "thing gay."
meaning, " they are no more, or there is no more."
Dad joked about some tribes putting their parents on an ice flow.
We certainly didn't do that with Dad or Mother for that matter. They had the best our world could give them and they seemed most contented (other than Mother's natural, sometimes cantankerous ways :) She was once a captain in a military school-enough said.
My brother laughed yesterday about how Mother gave him a tongue lashing one day.
"Oh good, there's my son. I thought I ran him off for good, yesterday." She said when he meekly returned the next day.
For me, the spirit of eternal pushing and playing the part of prodding mother, I'm sure my kids will be glad to get me out of sight and mind. Daughter-in-law is non-Native, daughter tied to her responsibilities. Only the daughter in a wheelchair for 50 years is there when I get sick. She is paraplegic but manages to keep a cool cloth for my head and water beside me on the night stand. I sometimes hear her struggling at the water fountain and then coming in the wheelchair with difficulty while she balances the glass with her one partially functioning hand.
I suppose the message this morning is one of simple acceptance of known eventualities and for taking each day as it comes and reverting back to our childhood (is this what they call childishness?) in that we are extra aware of our world at the moment. That would be the joy of a lovely sunrise or sunset, sweet ways and not so sweet ways of the children around us, and any other thing to act as a diversion.
Which brings me back to the crafts fair at the Senior Citizen's Hall on Grand avenue across from the Valero station on Saturday, November 6, 2010. Come one-come all.
Shut in like I am, I do understand anxiousness about what the future holds for us. I suppose aging is a universal eventuality. Different cultures handle this differently. The Natives used to have a great way, but only in my tribe, do I know of that. They grouped together and called themselves, "Little Orphans,"
and I apologize, I can't remember the Native words. It is charming to hear a young person speak of someone deceased and then add the word "thing gay."
meaning, " they are no more, or there is no more."
Dad joked about some tribes putting their parents on an ice flow.
We certainly didn't do that with Dad or Mother for that matter. They had the best our world could give them and they seemed most contented (other than Mother's natural, sometimes cantankerous ways :) She was once a captain in a military school-enough said.
My brother laughed yesterday about how Mother gave him a tongue lashing one day.
"Oh good, there's my son. I thought I ran him off for good, yesterday." She said when he meekly returned the next day.
For me, the spirit of eternal pushing and playing the part of prodding mother, I'm sure my kids will be glad to get me out of sight and mind. Daughter-in-law is non-Native, daughter tied to her responsibilities. Only the daughter in a wheelchair for 50 years is there when I get sick. She is paraplegic but manages to keep a cool cloth for my head and water beside me on the night stand. I sometimes hear her struggling at the water fountain and then coming in the wheelchair with difficulty while she balances the glass with her one partially functioning hand.
I suppose the message this morning is one of simple acceptance of known eventualities and for taking each day as it comes and reverting back to our childhood (is this what they call childishness?) in that we are extra aware of our world at the moment. That would be the joy of a lovely sunrise or sunset, sweet ways and not so sweet ways of the children around us, and any other thing to act as a diversion.
Which brings me back to the crafts fair at the Senior Citizen's Hall on Grand avenue across from the Valero station on Saturday, November 6, 2010. Come one-come all.