Muddle through somehow

Yesterday, I placed my mother’s glasses in their own antique glass casket that I bought at a local antique shop. The salesclerk was certain to tell me that the crystal had a crack in it and that it was discounted because of that. I had just had a car kick up a rock, strike and crack my windshield on my way home from helping my father so this seemed about right. 
For a dark and macabre treat, read this piece on the original lyrics. I admit that I rather like them. 

Dad always talks about “The Pajka luck,” but I find myself to be lucky and very fortunate. Life has a way of tossing lemons that I have made into lemonade slushies. Rocks are thrown. Glass breaks. Crystal breaks. This is all part of life. 

It's been a challenging year. I am so f*ck%&g tired of saying that. I’m tired of quietly asking for grace from others and myself. I’m tired of telling myself it’s going to be okay when what does that even mean. I use my words. I dissect my words. I want my words to matter and not hurt anyone including me. 

My mother called me many names. Stubborn was one of them. I’ve always tried to transform that into perseverance, a characteristic that I have always admired in others and myself. No matter the difficulty or delay in fruition, I have muddled through somehow. Just like the lyrics from one of my favorite Christmas songs—“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” 

Have yourself a merry little Christmas.
It may be your last.
Next year we may all be living in the past.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas.
Pop that champagne cork.
Next year we may all be living in New York.
No good times like the olden days.
Happy golden days of yore.
Faithful friends who were dear to us.
Will be near to us no more.
But at least we all will be together.
If the Lord allows.
From now on, we’ll have to muddle through somehow.
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

Life isn’t all stars and sunshine! Judy Garland knows.

Since April, I have been driving around with my mother’s glasses in my car. What do you do with something that had been so precious and necessary to her life? She read two hundred books while in memory care through these glasses. She looked at her family for the last time through these glasses. For the last few years, I have cleaned them for her several times and upon her passing, they ended up in my car where they have remained. I was unable to move them.

Now they rest surrounded on a bed of dried flowers including hydrangeas and various wildflowers. Not quite a #spelljart but still a manifestation sent into the universe.

Dad and I have kept going. Muddling through without a clear check-list that we each like to keep in our planners.

Sabbatical Wrap Up