Paint Your Landscape

Weekend Video: Clouds

May 27, 2013LuAnn

Zach is a beautiful reminder that today, this very moment, is the perfect time to begin living.

This is a video of a song that’s currently on repeat in our house right now. It’s written and sung by Zach Sobiech, a 17 year old kid who was terminally diagnosed with osteosarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer that takes the lives of a large percent of its childhood victims. Given only months to live, Zach wrote this song for his family to say goodbye. We wanted to share this all with you, not only because we love the song and its message, but to show the amazing strength things one person can do to change the world even when they only have months to live. Zach changed us with his song. Zach changed millions of people who watched this as well. Zach gave us a new perspective and taught us that we only have so much time here, so we better get living and loving life now.

To watch…

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It’s a Balancing Act Stupid!

May 23, 2013LuAnn

I know, I know, I KNOW THIS! Then why is it so easy to slip back into old patterns? We transitioned into this caregiver role knowing the risks, but also seeing the possible rewards, and the rewards have been many. I (with extreme type A personality disorder) thought I had a firm grasp on what I needed to do to balance this new life, that fine line between taking charge and keeping things organized, and running around with my hair on fire! Just where is that darn fire extinguisher? 😉

No one who knew me from my old corporate days would have accused me of being a well-balanced gal. Ok, maybe I fooled those who fleetingly passed me in the hall, a smile on my face, a warm hello. Those who knew me more intimately saw the “get it done at all costs (now)” approach to life, stepping aside when they saw me coming, afraid I was going to combust and consume them in the ensuing flames (lol).

Seems that incorporating meditation and yoga into the retired life works to maintain balance only if you still have a regular practice (who would have thought?). Guess I should have guessed how far off course I had wandered when recently I had to blow the dust off my meditation cushion and the unfurled yoga mat refused to lay flat, wanting to curl back on itself (sounds just like me!). 😉

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the only one doing this crazy dance of running from dawn until dusk, ignoring the aches and pains, pushing at all costs to cross yet another project off the list. As I look to my right, Terry is slumped in the chair right next to me at the end of the day, both of us silently pleading for the other to pour the much-needed glass of wine. So here we sit, two with wanderlust trying to remain stationary for long periods of time. Something was bound to happen sooner or later.

This morning, amidst birdsong, I walked to the end of the drive, gingerly sticking a toe across the property line. Once I had determined there would be no electric shocks, I headed out. Six miles of country road under my feet, a whisper on the breeze got my attention. “Good morning Lulu. Welcome back”.

I had forgotten how living in the moment felt, how important it is to our well-being, and those around us. Now, if I could just get my muse to cease with the 3 a.m. wake-up call! In a later post I will share a poem she pushed me to write, one which she believes freed me to pursue a balanced life once again.

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Solitary Thoughts

May 18, 2013LuAnn

Sitting at your window, looking out at the world, what solitary thoughts hold your attention? At age 93 do you still delight in simple pleasures, those little discoveries made when I take my early morning walks? Are there mysteries yet to unravel, interests to be explored? Does the cardinal at the feeder, the sun skipping across jonquil and hosta, or a delicate raindrop cascading down the windowpane bring a smile to your face?

During these quiet times, does your mind wander to the life you have lived? Do you wonder how many more holidays yet to be shared with your loved ones, how many more crisp spring mornings, how many more golden leaves tumbling down from the canopy above, how many more first gentle snowfalls?

Are you marking time in months instead of years, fearful of what is to come, afraid of how you will exit this life? Was this journey what you had hoped for or do regrets creep into your thoughts, pangs of pathos overshadowing all else?

You have always seemed the strong, silent type, keeping thoughts buried, not eager to share. These past several weeks I have seen a much frailer man, yes, but also one who is animated, a man I am thankful to have shared a few private words, a few childlike laughs.

Since I came into your family I have chuckled at the way you seemed to have singled me out, asking my thoughts about complex issues like the death penalty and gay marriage. Even when my beliefs have run counter to your own, they have never elicited a negative reaction from you. You openly welcomed me into this family, tolerating the “huggy” kind of gal that I am. I like to think that you secretly enjoy this aspect of me.

I pray that in your solitary thoughts you still find the joy in nature’s wonders. I have discovered your love for my chocolate chip cookies, so I will continue to bake them, just to see that beautiful smile light up your face.

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She is…

May 11, 2013May 11, 2013LuAnn

She is a teacher, friend, confidante, protector, nurturer, counselor, cook, chauffeur, maid, a beacon on a stormy sea, unconditional love, a rare gem.

She is wise, compassionate, loving, patient, passionate, generous, selfless, insightful, strong, beautiful, devoted, always there to wipe away the tears, the best hugger.

She is this and so much more. She is a mother.

Growing up in the midwest, apple blossoms and lilac bushes have always reminded me of the approach of Mothers’ Day. Both are in full bloom in Ohio and tomorrow we honor all mothers, those who brought us into this world, as well as those unselfishly fulfilling this most precious of roles.

Happy Mothers’ Day!

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Foggy Country Morn

April 30, 2013LuAnn

shrouded reverence

sunlight kissing misty fronds

foggy country morn

Swirling fingers of fog caressing aging barns, dew clinging to new leaves and tightly held buds, drops seemingly suspended in mid-air – morning in the country after a soggy rain-filled day.