Sunday soup

Sunday soup.


Sunday soup

Everything about my day is wonderful.  The sun is shining (snow expected later), husband Jim is returning home from his out of town work project in a few hours. I’m making soup for supper and it smells wonderful.   I have not forgotten how lucky I am knowing that not everyone else can sound as happy as me right now.  Not meaning to be cocky about my good fortune but eager to say that I am sometimes too quick to complain when all is not going so well. Just lending equal time to my not so bad day.  Life is good.

Family change.

No, no break up of my happy 31 year marriage, no crazy money problems for us and despite my life with Multiple Sclerosis for which I am doing well with, it’s more personal. It’s about my son Adam. He’s 31 years old and he’s moving on and out of our home and into his own place. I know it’s a good thing for him but it makes me hurt inside real bad. I’ll miss having him near me, making meals with and for him, keeping tabs on our favorite football team together and nurturing the 3 dogs and 2 cats in our abode. He is moving only a few blocks away and still, I ache inside just knowing that. I know all this emotional drama is all about me, not him. He’s growing up and I feel lonely just knowing he continues to live his life like most young men do and I am wondering ‘now what should I do?’ I’m a mom and I love that. It’s now time for me to re-evaluate my course and turn my pain into something better.

Holiday shopping

Husband, son and I decided it was time to finish our seasonal holiday mall trek last night. Daughter Emma had party plans (lucky her) so it was just the three of us. This would officially put the’buy too much’ season in our back pocket leaving time now to clean and cook, see a good movie and laugh about having fun till our face hurts. Holidays are sweet but family fun is better. Thank goodness we are able to enjoy both. Was it just the luck of the cards or careful planning to be so extremely happy?

Good Doctor News.

I made a Dr trip yesterday, one of 2 per year for a check up with my Neurologist. Happily that’s when I got the not unexpected news. He said that I am doing as well physically this time as I was doing the last time I saw him 6 months ago with a request from Dr Bowling to make another appointment to see him again in the spring.

My assignment from Dr B is to keep swimming and walking for exercise and to walk more often and faster by using my walking sticks. When he mentioned the importance of the walking sticks he reminded me about why they’re so necessary for me. Yes, I love to walk and that’s what I do through the neighborhood whenever I can. He told me that the sticks are critical for me because of the way it has me moving not just my hips and legs but my upper body, kind of like choreographing my own private ballet. I am to swing my shoulders and arms as I do my lower body. Never really thought that would matter but now I do. The walking sticks are now a part of my daily walk or ballet if you will.

Thoughts About “Gut Feelings”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Gut Feeling.”

My gut feeling and my instincts, are they one and the same? I have had many things involving both beginning when I was a teenager.  Being the typical ‘ I can do anything I want teen’ I chose to hitchhike by myself from Massachusetts to New York on the Mass Pike by the sign that warns that hitchhiking on the Pike is not recommended.  It was the early 70’s.  I had no fear and happily my instinct turned out to be right on.  I stood on the highway, put my thumb out, got picked up with my big pink Lark suitcase  and all went well as I suspected it would.  Would I ever recommend that a teen now a days do the same?  Never.  Gut feelings have changed in the 40 something years since then when doing what I did was not what could now be an awful choice.  My gut was right-on back then but my gut feeling about doing it today would be very different.