The large coffee mug I use on Saturdays is really more like a bowl. It’s rounded and you have to use two hands to drink -which is difficult when you’re pressed for time. Thus why I save it for luxurious Saturday mornings when I can take my time. Also when Bryan’s here.
Speaking of, Bryan was originally scheduled to arrive at 6pm on Thursday. That got changed to 8pm by Megabus two days before which got pushed to 10pm due to technical difficulties which got pushed to 11:45pm due to a “medical emergency” one woman had on the bus which turned into 12am when the bus hit traffic coming in.
Needless to say, I was asleep when Bryan walked in our apartment door. But it was still nice to know he was home.
There are very few things as heart-warming and smile-inducing as a hug from a 3 year old. I receive several (unsolicited!) each day. That, in itself, might be one of the best things about my job.
I’ve begun trying to “fit in” with my colleagues. I’ve taken a few steps, namely: purchasing two maxi skirts, painting my toenails (I know …), and carrying a clipboard.
On my 5 hr drive to DC last week, a song on the radio reminded me of Nana. The memory made me feel sad and cued instant tears. The drive meant I didn’t brush away this sadness.
I miss her fiercely. But, I have a clear memory of something that still gives me joy which I hope will guide how I raise and care for my family.
We all stood in the funeral home waiting for the visitation – two of Nana’s favorite hymns played in the background while a slideshow of her life came across the screen. How blessed my Nana would feel if only she could’ve seen: Papa, Mom & Dad, Aunt Janet & Uncle Paul, all my cousins, sisters, and Bryan. We stood in our black clothes – each bearing a tissue (or two, for me). Seeing the open casket and Nana’s peaceful face drew my tears. She was wearing her favorite ring – the one with the birthstone of each of her grandchildren. But this moment of standing with my family is so cherished; it reminds me how strong, and loving my family is. I am so thankful for the leadership of my parents and grandparents. We stood together, hands held, and spoke on our fondest memories about Nana; on what we admired about her. Then my grandfather prayed over the evening.
I remember in the midst of such sadness, thinking, “This woman created this family and we have very little to be sad about. What a matriarch.”
Whenever I am sad remembering Nana I will try to recall this moment when we were all sad together – but in which we should have been rejoicing at the unity of our small family.
“Never be offended.”
I heard this thought on the radio this week and I’ve been reminding myself of it. I’m easily offended and embarrassed of myself through others’ words. I’ve noticed this tendency again with being the new person in a new job around lots of experienced teachers. I don’t know the best way to do things so I end up asking for (or receiving unsolicited) advice.
When I remind myself to take nothing personally and define myself by being unconditionally loved by GOD, then it’s easy to brush off the suggestions as helpful and not hurtful. I know that sounds trite, but this thought has been so necessary.
Is anyone else as easily offended as I am?