When I was a little girl, I cross-stitched a set of flour sack towels with the following weekly schedule:
Wash on Monday,
Iron on Tuesday,
Mend on Wednesday,
Churn on Thursday,
Clean on Friday,
Bake on Saturday,
Rest on Sunday.
My mom didn’t follow this exactly, but she set up her own schedule that worked for her. (Yes, I even remember her churning) Each day had its own task, and each season had its own necessary work. I caught her mentality as easily as one can catch a cold.
My ‘agenda mode’ comes complete with ‘ear plugs’ and ‘blinders.’ Even when it isn’t necessary, I have my days at home scheduled in my mind to the half hour.
I did it today.
Get up by 6. Get gas for the mower by 6:30. Mow the lawn until 7:30. Clean up the garden ’til 8. Work ’til 9. Buy anuals for my pots. Begin planting said plants by 9:45. Leave by 10:30 to have an early lunch with Debralyn in the city. Work from 2-4. Finish planting pots by 5. Clean up. Dinner. Ron home.
I was on schedule until Ron and I talked about the possibility of me running up to check on our new boat (after the storms and such). I felt a pause. My internal alarm clock beeped to remind me of my schedule. That darn self-imposed scheduled to make me feel necessary.
Fortunately, I’ve been growing in the ‘in the moment presence matters more than staying on schedule‘ mentality, and I honestly was so glad to run up and check on the boat. (She was fine, by the way.)
But, I still was trying to figure out how to accomplish what I wanted to do on my day off.
Then this happened.
The rain came too early. My agenda was thrown off. They’ll have to wait. So will I.
And in the waiting, I’m growing. Life is about much more than me and when I get my plants planted. I can choose to be in a hurry to fit something else in, or I can enjoy the drops of water forming on the colorful blooms on my patio.
I spent yesterday helping my dad go to his cardiologist and to his hearing doctor. I’m stunning with the grace he is handling this difficult season of being 94. He could choose to be irritated at the circumstances he finds himself in or he could admit that he needs help and graciously receive it. I’m so proud that he has chosen the latter.
I can’t help but think of him setting aside the way he’d like things to be and instead receive the little joys he gets. I watched him joke with the doctors and bring laughter into the room when he would have every justifiable reason to complain.
So, thanks Dad for showing me that it’s ok to take off my blinders and ear plugs and live in the moments I have been given.
That’s all for now, however, because Waze told me I need to leave by 10:24 to be in the city in time to see Debralyn!