Estimated reading time: 2 min.
She was someone who threw her arms open wide and embraced adventure. Like that relative that isn’t afraid to wear bright lipstick, a wide floppy hat and linger in moments of joy (and the sunshine). When a new opportunity came up, she turned me towards it, but not so fast that I resisted. It was a good thing too, because trying something new unlocked a well of contentment in me that I never knew was there.
She was kind, crocheting quietly while I began to understand our cat had suffered too much and needed to depart. She gave me time and space when grief hit me full force. I was afraid I would fall into the cavernous hole of that absence, but she squeezed my hand and I kept on.
She was patient when I wanted things to happen NOW: all the projects that needed coordinating, fixing and doing. It was enough to raise my blood pressure, but not hers. No. She smiled and sipped her iced tea on the veranda. It will all come in it’s time darling, I could almost hear her say. She was right of course. In a few months it did come together, and so nicely that I had (almost) forgotten my impatience.
She was wise, pointing me to the help I needed just in time. For a while, though, everything became complicated and overwhelming. It was as if a thick fog obscured my every thought. But she gently turned on a light and didn’t give up hope. She told me over and over the things that truly matter: relationships, love, self-acceptance. These are the things that will always make you free, I imagined her saying with such conviction.
She was generous. One evening she unexpectedly pulled an envelope from her flowing sleeve. It was an invitation to a family wedding, a plane ticket and the courage to go. The twinkle in her eye said, Places to go and people to see! The surprise and joy of it felt like merriment singing in my bones.
She is sadly leaving soon. But I think I will be all right. I just might have caught a bit of her determination and bravery…
_________________
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "365 Words".
She was someone who threw her arms open wide and embraced adventure. Like that relative that isn’t afraid to wear bright lipstick, a wide floppy hat and linger in moments of joy (and the sunshine). When a new opportunity came up, she turned me towards it, but not so fast that I resisted. It was a good thing too, because trying something new unlocked a well of contentment in me that I never knew was there.
She was kind, crocheting quietly while I began to understand our cat had suffered too much and needed to depart. She gave me time and space when grief hit me full force. I was afraid I would fall into the cavernous hole of that absence, but she squeezed my hand and I kept on.
She was patient when I wanted things to happen NOW: all the projects that needed coordinating, fixing and doing. It was enough to raise my blood pressure, but not hers. No. She smiled and sipped her iced tea on the veranda. It will all come in it’s time darling, I could almost hear her say. She was right of course. In a few months it did come together, and so nicely that I had (almost) forgotten my impatience.
She was wise, pointing me to the help I needed just in time. For a while, though, everything became complicated and overwhelming. It was as if a thick fog obscured my every thought. But she gently turned on a light and didn’t give up hope. She told me over and over the things that truly matter: relationships, love, self-acceptance. These are the things that will always make you free, I imagined her saying with such conviction.
She was generous. One evening she unexpectedly pulled an envelope from her flowing sleeve. It was an invitation to a family wedding, a plane ticket and the courage to go. The twinkle in her eye said, Places to go and people to see! The surprise and joy of it felt like merriment singing in my bones.
She is sadly leaving soon. But I think I will be all right. I just might have caught a bit of her determination and bravery…
_________________
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "365 Words".