I love today. Cold, grey, windy.
Days like these, all I want to do is curl up on the couch in my favorite blanket and read… And make soup and biscuits for supper… And stand in a long hot shower for like, an hour. Never thought of a hot shower on a cold rainy day? I think I can thank my days as a Camp Kahdalea counselor for the one. Even during the summer, it could get pretty cold on rainy days and nights in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Camp’s old, primitive, creaky wooden-door stalls in the showerhouse became the luxury of luxuries during rest-hour.
Standing under the steaming hot water, you could see the mountain laurel beyond the door pressing into the porch… huge drops of rain pattering down on the dark green leaves.
I’m rather disappointed about this year’s Halloween… I guess it didn’t count as special enough cause for my husband’s teacher to cancel tonight’s class. Boooooo.
Last year I dressed my chubby crawler in a PB kids Pumpkin costume. And even though it was already documented on fb, I may just recycle it this year. It was really cute! Besides I just don’t really feel like spending money on a new costume for Will and I just to sit in the living room by ourselves and wish Jason was there to party. So we will have to defer the Halloween blowout to next year, when hopefully we can properly enjoy the festivities.
Look at that babyyyyy! How does time fly so fast when you have a child? Seriously…
I am so sad today is the last day of October… It was glorious. Did not disappoint in the least! It appropriately inspired Will to come out with a new word… When Aunt Cela (my baby sister who is too uncannily adult-like) was visiting this past weekend, whenever we laughed really hard (often), Will let out a loud “ha-HAAA” and then said “Haa-ppyyy” with a proud little grin. Best thing ever.
There’s a lot I could be doing better as a first-time mama, but I guess I’m doing something right.
I am happy. Grateful, content, energetic, and still always aspiring for something more. Life is not ever perfect – there are fleeting moments of absolute heaven, but they must be rare and wonderful because this life isn’t it. We were not made for this life. I thought about this alot three years ago when two dearly beloved members of my family passed away too soon. The suffering and anguish was so tough, but it was so consoling to remember – this is not the end for them. It’s just the beginning. I was so comforted by C.S.Lewis then, and re-inspired now:
Today is the Eve of All Saints Day for Catholics, which is followed by All Souls Day – we are reminded to think of and pray for the souls of all our loved ones who have passed away. And to remember that “from dust to dust”. This life is fleeting. Sometimes painful, sometimes transfiguringly beautiful… But always fleeting. On this gory, ghoulish holiday, Catholics all across the world stop to remember: We will all die, pass into the next life, the life God created us for – to be with Him, with each other, for eternity.
I believe that.
It can seem morbid, how much Catholics focus on death. We revere Christ still on the Crucifix, we re-live His passion and death in the Stations of the Cross, we talk about death alot. And there’s a church in Portugal that one of ladies in my Biblestudy recently visited on her tour of Spain. It’s made of bones, with the inscription:
“Nós ossos que aqui estamos, pelos vossos esperamos:
“Our bones that are here wait for yours!”
How delightfully eery, huh?!
However morbid it may seem to a non-Catholic, its actually a safeguard from depression. Life is so short – and both the moments of sorrow or disappointment and the moments of intense beauty or exalted happiness cause a certain pain because they (we) are fleeting. The comfort in remembering “This is not it” is immeasurable… It gives a deeper peace than the pursuit of any material pleasure or temporary high could ever give.
Choosing joy has always been something very important to me. There have been many times in my life that this has been extremely difficult – but it has always been possible, with a hefty helping of grace.
And having my son pick up on that, with his delight in my happiness and his decision to share it,
is incredibly beautiful to me.