Musings at 50

For as long as I can remember, I do not trust when I am in pain. From my earliest memory of falling and scraping my knees on the asphalt pavement to my recent fall in Hoh Rainforest, I do not trust when I feel pain. I am super curious about this - where did this come from? I remember being told you are okay after a fall - did I feel okay? Was that words of reassurance or did I take it to mean that though I feel pain, you're okay so quit crying and continue on. I have these moments I remember - like the one where I was crying while cutting wooden names on a scroll saw at Kings Island, my boss asking me what is wrong. I tell him my arm hurts and he takes one look and sends me to the ER. Someone at the ER tells me "It's just a kidney stone, nothing to worry about. It will hurt, that is normal." I took that to mean, why would you bother us with something so trivial. We learn that pain is an indicator of something - but we also hear no pain no gain when it comes to working

#30/30April8 A good day My feet hit the wood floor Cool and dark Fuzzy robe on I Walk to the kitchen To start tea I stare out the kitchen window The darkness starts to Lift as pale grey and blue Lightens to white and yellow The birds begin their chorus Nesting my tea cup in hands I sit and stare out into The backyard as it awakes Wet pine branches sparkle As the morning sun hits What will I do today? Full of hope and possibilities  Whatever happens I am breathing and can see Today is a good day

I once had this friend - or shall I say friends - they were sisters (are still sisters).  My brother texted me this week that their mother is battling cancer.  She has to be about 80 or so by now.   It brought back so many memories of our friendship - the hikes at Old Man’s cave and Blackhand Gorge, the visits to their grandparents farm and land with its handmade log cabin.  The slumber parties where we stayed up late into the night watching Night Owl Theater and the slow mornings ended by a rush to gather all of my stuff so I could get ready for my dad to pick me up and take me to work in the garden for the day. They had these metal colored cups we drank from, I remember the cool feel of them in my hand. I remember the obsession of Star Wars and the backyard where we transported ourselves to the Millenium Falcon or the Death Star.  I was able to take my first trip to Florida with them and their parents - in their large wood panelled station wagon - stopping for McDonalds on the way do