oh asha, there are so many ways i can concur with this sentiment ~ when people ask me how i am, my immediate response is in the form of another question:
I hate the phone, but I made those calls today. I'm looking at spring as a time of hope and fresh beginnings for my health, and the well-being of myself and the people around me. It's weird being simultaneously fearful and hopeful, but that's my truth right now. I'm trying to be grateful for little things...snowdrops in the yard, a loving moment, my little dog basking in the sun slanting in through the window.
I'm terrified. Outside of Heather Cox Richardson and Dan Rather, I only read headlines. It's like looking at everything out of the corner of my eye b/c to look straight on would blind me.
on a different note, in 1990, I traveled to Germany with my mother and a group of Lutheran pastors and organists. My father had died 6 months earlier of AIDS and my mom instructed me that I was not allowed to tell anyone in the group. In a clearly passive-aggressive response, I shaved my head (ala Sinead O'Connor, who was big at that time). When we met at the airport, my mother said nothing. One day, a full week into the trip, as we were walking down a quaint cobblestone street, three group members told me that I looked great, I could "pull it off", they said. My mom was a good 20 feet ahead of us as I thanked them and projected, "funny, my mom hasn't said anything". Hand to heart, I tell you the truth: my mother stopped, turned around, looked at me directly, waited until we got a few feet closer, and said, "Well, I was told if you can't say something nice..."
Oh, still to this day I think that’s one of the funniest things my mother ever said / did, even if she wasn’t trying to be funny. I didn’t take it personally at all.
oh asha, there are so many ways i can concur with this sentiment ~ when people ask me how i am, my immediate response is in the form of another question:
do you mean macro or micro?
pretty much says it all
YES
I hate the phone, but I made those calls today. I'm looking at spring as a time of hope and fresh beginnings for my health, and the well-being of myself and the people around me. It's weird being simultaneously fearful and hopeful, but that's my truth right now. I'm trying to be grateful for little things...snowdrops in the yard, a loving moment, my little dog basking in the sun slanting in through the window.
I made them, too. And now I’m done.
I'm terrified. Outside of Heather Cox Richardson and Dan Rather, I only read headlines. It's like looking at everything out of the corner of my eye b/c to look straight on would blind me.
on a different note, in 1990, I traveled to Germany with my mother and a group of Lutheran pastors and organists. My father had died 6 months earlier of AIDS and my mom instructed me that I was not allowed to tell anyone in the group. In a clearly passive-aggressive response, I shaved my head (ala Sinead O'Connor, who was big at that time). When we met at the airport, my mother said nothing. One day, a full week into the trip, as we were walking down a quaint cobblestone street, three group members told me that I looked great, I could "pull it off", they said. My mom was a good 20 feet ahead of us as I thanked them and projected, "funny, my mom hasn't said anything". Hand to heart, I tell you the truth: my mother stopped, turned around, looked at me directly, waited until we got a few feet closer, and said, "Well, I was told if you can't say something nice..."
and that was it. mic drop (as they say today) ;)
Oh, Jan. I’m so sorry. I bet you looked great.
Oh, still to this day I think that’s one of the funniest things my mother ever said / did, even if she wasn’t trying to be funny. I didn’t take it personally at all.