Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend who was diagnosed with breast cancer the same time as my daughter has just been given a diagnosis of metatasized cancer in the liver. Her case, six years ago, was so unworrisome that the stage was 0-1 and she had radiation, no chemo. It's a stunner, and she is being brave and hopeful, but her husband has serious health issues and is a few years older, and I'm sure they both expected she would be his caretaker, and now this. My heart aches, and I hate breast cancer and the havoc is recks on women. It comes out of left field, and swallows you up. Being a witness, as I said to another friend, is

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm feeling a bit like I'm reeling from blows of one sort or another. You know how things come in threes? Well this is way more than three. I'm trying to settle in my equanimity, but there have been little health scares, big ones, the memorial service to get through and then thank all the participants, our credit card needing to be replaced (long story), health scares of friends, struggles of grown kids, worry over grandkids, and then the rain/flood conumdrum. I want to escape, then the phone rings, and my heart begins pounding. This time of life, I know, is when health of self and friends is relentlessly troublesome, and also the kids begin worrying and trying to micromanage our lives. It hurts our feelings, and yet, they mean well. I didn't go through this with my parents, because they died at 61 and 65, but even the little I had to take over in my father's case, offended him, like power of attorney and how I wouldn't take the furniture in their house before he was even dead. I teased him that we'd have no where to sit if I did, but he wanted to know that his possessions had value. He was letting go and not letting go. Maybe that's what I'm doing as well. Trying to take care of myself mentally has been hard lately, with all the crises and the splintering of my attention. I want to rescue and every single problem cannot be fixed by me. Prayer, that's about all I've got. Frustrating.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I spent the middle of yesterday doing cosy things. I had lunch with my Buddhist swim buddy at a Thai place she loves to eat, comforted with the suchi like rolls with a crunchy center. We took a long time to eat and catch up. Then I declined going back to her place, two blocks away and instead stopped by the yarn shop and picked out bright yellow and bright lime green yarn so I can get back to my therapy knitting. Then I stopped at the bookstore there, and chatted with two women about "The Other Black Girl", which I loved when I read it. I searched for two old Lisa Gardner mysteries, and John Grisham's new legal thriller, and lugged the two shopping bags back to the car. I came home and read and made dinner of chicken quesadillas and we watched "Seabisquit". I love that movie, just as I loved horse stories as a child. Though my parents couldn't afford riding lessons for me, I made sure my first two kids had lessons starting in kindergarden and first grade. They did western riding for five years, then, when we moved to Colorado, switched to English riding, and our older daughter continued it through college. She was on the equistrian team. I empathasize more with horses and other animals than with people, I sometimes think. The movie is perfectly cast and with the narration by David McCullough, it is a heartfelt experience. I cry a lot anyway these days, but my tears watching the little horse with a big heart are relieving. My Buddhist name, given me when I took my vows over thirty years ago, is "Great heart, silence perserverence". I try to keep my heart open at all times.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I took a two hour walk with a friend today, one who had been gone for couple of weeks. We ended up sitting on a fence and crying. She lost her mother at the beginning of Covid, not from the virus. I lost my daughter soon after. We grieve together. She loved my daughter and I loved her mother, so we feel freed up to open our ragged hearts and just MISS them. I'm glad she's back. Sorrow is or can be shared, and I'm so grateful I have people to whom I am not embarassed to reveal that entirely moving on is not an option. The pain comes back like a rogue wave, sometimes when you least expect it. But there is so much love in my life that I am anchored and mostly steady.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I took a long walk in the fall sunshine today. The leaves are gold and red and falling now. The persimmon tree in our backyard is dropping huge golden leaves. My eyes are much better and we're thinking of gifts for the holidays and foods to prepare. Our youngest grandson trick or treated with skeleton pjs on, the second youngest was a caterpillar for a second year, the third was a vampire, and the fourth a cat for the second year in a row. I have no idea what my teenage granddaughter did, and will have to beg for a photo I guess. I've already put up Thanksgiving decorations and put away Halloween ones. Today I found a huge persimmon in the yard, and when it ripens, what a treat! My husband doesn't like them, but I am a big fan. I used to make persimmon bread and pudding but there is no one to eat it. There are lots of sugary challenges for a diabetic this time of year, but I control myself. But gee, a piece of pumpkin pie sure would be nice.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had a bit of sun today, but it's still pretty gloomy. I went with a friend for a walk, which helped, then to the grocery store to get stuff. I had bought two coucous salads there, and it was so nice to have something I had not prepared. Tonight we're having Coq au Vin, which is easiest dinner to make. I wish my husband could cook, but he's tried, and several friends have tried to teach him, to no avail. He can make salads, and cook turkey bacon and do a mean grilled cheese sandwich. But anything else requires twice the time as doing it myself, because I have to instruct him every step of the way. I send him out to pick up food. But he cannot plan a meal at all. He also doesn't plan outings, or walks or gardens or anything. Yet he's not passive, and he will get up and go most places if I ask him to, but there isn no initiation. He was raised by a strong grandmother, and he just goes with the flow. At least around outings and cooking. He resists all change, out of anxiety. I pick my battles on changes and otherwise do my own thing, with my friends. That's how we cooperate. Our big compatibility was travel and art, and Covid has swept that away, but hopefully we'll resume gradually. He's got his Covid booster appointment Saturday, then we're good to go.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had to see the eye doctor again this morning, and again he was reassuring. I had this shadow thing that will take 6-12 months to go away, and now I have a syndrome that causes my brain to push up images onto my eyesight unbidden, but it will too hopefully fade. See him again in three months and try not to stress about it. In my case, seeing is not believing, and my brain wants to fill in the images that the shadow obscures. Don't believe what you see. The brain is an amazing, crazy, astounding thing! Mine especially. So don't listen to a thing I say, because what do I know?! We had a few trick or treaters last night, as we watched Mel Brooks' "Young Frankenstein". It seemed quite male adolescent oriented, but the silliness looked like it was fun to make. Great art it's not, but that wasn't what we were aiming for. Now it's November and panic time for the holidays.