There's nothing to eat. But wait. I'm good at creating meals from tidbits. I have a potato and some left-over chicken. With a spoonful of raisins and nuts and a bit of veg, I can make a curry sauce. Or eggs. There's always eggs. Or pancakes, even better.
The whole house is dirty. But I love this house. It's bright and open. A swiffer, Endust, Windex, a mop and vacuum won't take long at all. The clean floors will feel smooth under my bare feet. The glass will shine. Everything will smell lemony. I'll get some bending in, and it won't cost me a dime. I'll put on music--good idea.
My dog needs a bath. Mr. Wiggles can't help being stinky sometimes. And he's such a sweet boy. A bath only takes 10 minutes, and he knows I do it with love. Then he'll be soft and fragrant and nicer to pet.
What happened to the laughter that filled the house? It's true, most days are the two of us. Well, three if you count you-know-who. But calm has replaced hectic. Low stress has replaced rushed. And let's tell the truth: freedom has replaced responsibility. All stages of life are precious, this one no less than the parenting stage. Two can also fill a home with love, quite nicely. It's not routine, it's practiced. And honestly, there's still a lot of laughter.
I'm growing old. Yet my days are longer not shorter. With less to do, they lengthen; more time to savor. I must remember that. The years might fly, but not the days. Plus, I am so lucky to have earned and saved enough to retire. My losses have not overwhelmed me. God is with me every day; when I sit still and write this, I can feel God's presence. As we grow older other things diminish, but not our faith. Prayers are more intentional. No more "Now I lay me . . . " * without a thought that in fact I might die before I wake. There's no greater gift than long life.
Nina Naomi
*"Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take."
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