Have you received a card or note that has been handwritten? If so, I hope you felt the love that went into it. Every year since we have been married my hubby gets a birthday card with a handwritten message in it from his grandmother. They almost all start the same way: “I remember the night you were born …” These cards have been a treasure for my hubby and for me also. Through the years I learned family tales and stories and traditions were passed on.
A few years ago I did what almost every one I know does on a daily basis. I walked out to my mailbox and picked up the mail. Every day I would get excited anticipating something addressed to me. Maybe I would get an announcement from my favorite nail salon, or a great coupon for a local restaurant, or a postcard from a family member, or a “Thinking of You” card from a friend or maybe … just maybe …a hand-written multi-page letter from a friend!!!
What I found was the same old thing.There was a couple of free magazines, a few odd advertisements addressed to “Postal Customer”, and bills! The only thing that even remotely looked like a personal letter was …
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Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional. For this eternal truth I’ve got a little bit of wisdom to share with some of my young (and young at heart!) friends. Pay attention! They may help you live longer 😉
Forget the health food. You need all the preservatives you can get!
When you fall down, think about what else you can do while you’re down there.(A reminder – don’t waste the space you’re in, do something with what you’ve got where you are!)
You’re getting old when you get the same sensation from a rocking chair that you once got from a roller coaster. (No matter which stage of life you are in – let go and enjoy the ride!)
It’s frustrating when you know all the answers, but nobody bothers to ask you the questions. (Share the wisdom anyway, you never know who might be listening!)
Time may be a great healer, but it’s a lousy beautician. (So enjoy that afternoon nap, it can help you keep up a youthful appearance!)
Wisdom comes with age, but sometimes age comes alone.
25 years ago today, Matthew was preparing to come into the world. What an exciting and joyful day that day was! The birth of our first little boy. He was so wanted and his birth was so greatly expected. He was truly a bundle of joy.
1046 weeks; 7,323 days; 175,728 and some hours ago Matthew died. Yes, we count the years, the months, the weeks, the days, the hours and the minutes. We live in the awareness of our broken family.
When one embarks on the path of mourning a child, new experiences and feelings pop up constantly to suprise you. One of the feelings that I find amazing on this 5th birthday since Matthew has been in his premature grave is this: Birthdays are infinitely more difficult than death days. It is expected that you will feel sad on the anniversary of the death, but birthdays are supposed to be times of celebration. Continue reading →