I was thinking about the last 50 odd years that was in the past. I just had to take time for the simple things in life
Taking time for the simple life
Some times life throws you a curve ball. You have a hard time hitting it. You try to hit the ball like you always have - straight on! But now, you have to do something different to be able to hit the ball. God has thrown me a curve ball, in these autumn years of my life. I love to look back to early years of my life being so simple, during those Golden Years of the 50’s, especially. Life was so simple then. It was so hopeful and you were grateful for the small things, like kiddos playing in the back yard, hanging laundry on the clothesline, talking to the neighbor over the back yard fence, lying on the couch with a good book, while the children took their naps, watching Andy Griffith on our black and white 12” TV on Monday nights, and every day was the same. I loved it. It was the simple life.
Now after nearly 50 years of many adventures and surprises and life changing things in our lives, life is different. Those times were great and wonderful and difficult and tragic and had many ups and downs. I was on the go 18 hours a day, doing, doing, doing, and living life to the fullest. I never felt bored. I have done it all. Or most all of it! Still things to do! I have milked cows, rode horses, worked in the fields from sunup to sundown. I have two-stepped till 1:00 AM in dance halls in South and North Texas. I have played on championship volleyball and softball teams. I have coached girl’s softball teams and led them to State. I have played bridge in three clubs a week, until I dreamed about playing bridge all night. I have sewed until midnight making all my children’s clothes-and shirts my husband hated! I drove kids in car pools for years, till I thought I was glued to the steering wheel. I was in PTA, room mother to many, and made thousands of cupcakes and pitchers of Kool-Aid. I made home-cooked meals and gourmet meals, until I got burned out. I traveled to Colima in deep Mexico for 10 days to minister and preach in a large church, needing an interpreter to do it. There was Sunday school classes being taught, bible study groups being led, choirs to sing in, sorority meetings to go to, tennis tournaments to play in, and football games to go to, school plays to watch, graduations to go to, gardens to tend and flowers tend. For 10 years painting was my passion – seems I always had a passion – and oils and acrylics and canvasses and easels and paints cluttered up a spare bedroom, and I spent hours and days engrossed in a painting until it was finished. Finally, I was giving art lessons in my garage. The years went by and time and events changed everything. Grandchildren became my passion and even though I was called “Boot Camp Mimi”, time at Mimi and Paw Paw’s was their highlight of the summer! Months and years waiting in hospital waiting rooms, willing a child to live, just live, took a toll on my health. But life went on, and it was good.
Yes and a book published! Who would have ever thought I would see my name on Amazon.com? It has been a good life. But it is not over. I have more mountains to climb. But for right now, it’s time to enjoy the simple things. My husband of 53 years has Alzheimer’s. He needs me nearby most of the time.
The mountains will have to wait awhile, because it is time to be thankful for this time we have together. Thank goodness for a computer and my chance to stay in touch with the outside world. It’ll be a time of reflection and waiting and enjoying the wonderful fall weather, the cold days of winter, and the coming of spring.
So, today I wake up and go out on my big comfortable front porch in this little town of Roanoke in North Texas, and sit in a white wicker rocker in the cool autumn morning, listening to the birds singing and watching leaves fall from the trees.
I wrote in my journal today: “I think I need to think differently. Write differently. It is time for a change. But how and what kind of change?”
Then I wrote this: “I look over at my bright red geranium blooming by the front steps in a large clay pot, the pretty vermillion begonias mixed in with some bright pink ones and smile, because I have spent time nurturing and feeding and watering them and they look lovely. There is a fern by my side, sitting on a wire stand that is big and green and lush, which I have watered and cared for, and also I see large fichus in a copper pot by the porch post. It looks so healthy and green and is growing so big! Oh, I see that rubber plant that someone gave to us at my granddaughter Lacey’s funeral two years ago. It never grew much and almost died, but it is finally growing and getting tall and strong. A good sign?
Oh, I see a big pot of bright yellow chrysanthemums, that I planted last fall and it is so beautiful sitting there in the back of all the other flowers that are in pots in front of it. Like it is the King. What a beautiful group of flowers, sort of like people, so full of individuality. Each different in its own way. Just like our children and grandchildren. All different but beautiful.
Now I see something else, a small shamrock plant that I am trying to bring back to life, it almost died, but with some loving care, it is finally growing and putting out a few tiny white blossoms. It will live! It has struggled so long!
Oh and there is that tall green caladium that I bought earlier this summer, it is sitting tall in the midst of all the other bright colored flowers, saying, “Look at me, I am different, but I am very handsome”. Yes you are, Mr. Caladium.
Now Brad’s kitty comes and rubs against my legs and needs petting. I call him George. I don’t know what Brad calls him. I rub his head and his belly and now he is purring and happy. Darn! He reached out to put his paw on my hand and suddenly dug a claw in my finger! Stupid cat! My hand is bleeding! I slap his head and he runs away!
Just like people! They don’t know how to love or to show affection. They try to be friendly and then wind up hurting you. They run off.
Now he is rolling on the sidewalk in the sun among the leaves. He grabs one and tosses it around and plays, perfectly happy and unconcerned that he has hurt me. Well, I need to forgive, right? Just like people.
There is a bright orange Monarch butterfly flitting around. How beautiful. He must be lost! The migration of Monarch butterflies to Mexico began a couple weeks ago. How did this one get lost from the rest of thousands that were seen flying over North Texas? Well, he must have taken time out to go out on his own, leaving the flock, now he is trying to find his way to Mexico, where the rest of the family and friends are spending the winter. I hope he catches up with them soon. Winter is coming! God, how we find ourselves in that same place sometimes! All alone and can’t find our way home.
Yes autumn is here, just like the autumn in my life. There are leaves drifting down a lot now, brown dead leaves. I see one lone dead leaf struggling to hang on. It is waving and trembling in the slight breeze. How long? How long will it hang on? It hangs among the pretty green leaves, but is not yet fully dead. Wishing it had a little more time. The wind blows it over a little, and it touches another leaf that is green and strong and healthy, as if to say, “Hold me, don’t let me go. You are strong!” Then it floats back and hangs there. It is in the autumn of its years too, just like me. Soon it will be there on the grass, piled up with all the other dead leaves in the graveyard where all the dead leaves go. Hang on little brown leaf. Maybe you have another hour, another day, or another month. But maybe it is only a minute. So why don’t you just live now?”
I am thankful for the small, simple things. I look around and see the sun, the blue sky, hear the birds singing, and smell the smell of damp earth after a rain, and listen to that rooster crow in the distance. It is the sound of hope. It is morning and today will be a good day.
You covered a great deal of territory in a very short and so beautifully written description of how fulfilling a simple life can be. I found myself reading it to my partner as she busied herself around the house getting ready to go off and work in her shop for the day.
Just this morning she was telling me she wanted us to sell what we have and buy an acre of land somewhere near (hopefully not near all of the flooding rivers, streams and bayous we have around here) so that she can grow much more than she does now. I told her that we should stay here with our simple micro-backyard, side yard, and front yard. With our bird feeder we have a variety of birds around most of the day, almost all of the flowers you described so beautifully, cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, and squash in abundance, and exotic plants that she gets from other Vietnamese and then reproduces to share with others.
It's a busy life for her. Taking care of me, running the shop, tending to the yard, cooking, and tending to the many details of life. We have no children but there are many in her extended family. It's a good life. It's a simple life.
A beautifully written reflection. Life truly does get harder as we advance along the mountain, but like some of those stubborn autumn leaves, will and determination behooves us to cling to dear life and persevere for ourselves and for those we care for.
After a long awaited weekend visitation caused by false allegations of sexual abuse, Glen got to see his children for the first time in over two months. He promised them that they would never be apart again and then they disappeared.
Taking time for the simple life
