Inertia

                                                       Everyday is a brand new day, everyday is a journey.



 
O Light that followest all my way,
 I yield my flickering torch to Thee; 
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
 that in Thy sunshine’s glow its day may brighter,
 fairer be. 
 O Joy that seekest me through pain,
 I cannot close my heart to Thee; 
I trace the rainbow through the rain, 
and feel the promise is not vain,
 that morn shall tearless be.”
George Matheson

I've have a new word to add onto my burrow. INERTIA. What is it about Winter that makes one so tired? So listless and lazy? The lack of sunshine. Ask anyone how are they doing and they will reply that they have the winter blues. Amen. Amen.

My favorite Season has always been Spring and I think I now know why. After spending a Winter of laziness, sleepiness and inertia, we want to spring into action and be active. 

I have to say that this has been the first Winter in a long time that has actually seemed like a Winter. We have had some snow and cold weather in single digits. I am saddened to find that our generation of youngsters don't know how to play outside. I've seen one single child frolicking in the snow all Season. They have no idea how to play in the mud and actually come home filthy from hard play. All children need to play outside. We're producing another lazy generation.

Inertia comes in all forms. It's not just about our lack of sunshine, it also has to do with our laziness. How do we battle this? I don't know. I can only tell you what I do whenever I get lethargic. I make myself get up. 

Yes, make myself. I'll get up and take a shower. You would be amazed what a good and hot shower does for a person's tiredness. How many times have you gotten up for work in the morning all sleepy eyed and right after a shower, you're more alert? 

After your shower, do something. It doesn't matter what as long as you start moving. Go do your errands. Put in a load of laundry. Read a book. Anything. Once you start moving, you'll resemble a locomotive. You'll pick up speed as you go. 

Have a glass of orange juice or a cup of coffee to help you get a boost of energy. Even though I have given up coffee, I still occasionally have a cup when I know my day will be tiring. Not always, just occasionally. It does work. 

Don't forget to get dressed, do your hair and put on some makeup. It doesn't matter if you stay inside and not see anyone. dress yourself as if you were. We all can have a sleep in and lazy day with our pajamas, but we cannot live that way. People notice our appearance. Always look your best. You'll feel better. 

Have a blessed day everyone. 

January Days

                                                          Everyday is a brand new day, everyday is a journey.




The tissue of the life to be,
We weave with colors all our own,
And in the field of Destiny
We reap as we have sown.

--Raphael.

I've always loved January and not only, because it's my birthday month. I've always loved this month, because a lot happens in January. It is the beginning of the Year signifying a new start. It is the middle of Winter and you know that Spring is right around the corner. 

January also brought the return of doctor appointments, three just this month alone. Ugh! I've been so spoiled! Back to rising early before the birds! Vacation time is over and back to the daily grind. I still have a colonoscopy in March and a mammogram coming up. Now, that may seem like not many, but Emily also had her appointments. Between the two of us, we were kept busy. 

As we near the end of the month, I can only express relief. It has been hectic and tiring in January as we headed back to reality with appointments. There is also some great news of my not having to come back for another Ct. scan until 2019! How awesome is that? I definitely need a break after 10 1/2 years of doctors!

I've also had two very disappointing setbacks that my heart was set on, but alas, that is the way of God's will. The way I recover is by cleaning my place from top to bottom. And that's what I intend on doing. I got my boxes from work last night and plan on rolling up my sleeves this coming weekend. Once done, I will feel much better. A sort of cleansing. It works for me. 

I have been fighting the Winter blues and not really succeeding. Winter is when we should be resting, sleeping in our burrows, but we have to work instead. Ugh! One day, folks, one day.

Have a blessed day everyone. 

A Lost Story

   

                                                                         Everyday is a brand new day, 

                                                                         everyday is a journey.

The other day, I spent the morning cleaning out files in my computer. I came across a few stories I've written during some of my past treatments. I have no idea why I never posted them. Perhaps, I had a plan of sorts to make them into a series. I thought to myself, why not post them now.  Just remember everyone, this isn't me now. This is the past during one of the 4 re-occurrences I've had. Enjoy.

Here I am returning once again on this same road that I have traveled countless of times. Back to the oncologist for those dreaded results. These past couple of days have been murder on my nerves and in a way, I have resolved myself to the outcome.

Another sleepless night. Lord, will I ever rest again? I am so very tired. How I would love to lay my head down and sleep a peaceful and restful slumber. Overthinking is never good for anyone.

Normally, I bring along my "chemo bag" filled with books to read, puzzles and plenty of yarn for crocheting to keep my mind preoccupied at the doctors. Today none of that worked. My mind wandered hopelessly from one subject to the next, unable to focus on any one thing.

It didn't help that the waiting room was overflowing with patients.  The constant barrage of men and women between labs, pharmacy, chemo treatments and doctor visits,  felt stifling and overwhelming to me. I felt as if I couldn't breathe, feeling claustrophobic.  My brain all scattered as my eyes darted back  and forth across the crowded room. Everyone had the same monotone expression on their faces. After all, it was a cancer clinic.

Walking to the examining room with a new nurse I have never seen before, I felt a little out of place. It's been over six months since I saw my oncologist. Already there were changes evident in such a short time. I didn't recognize any of the patients in the waiting room. The receptionist at the front desk had a new procedure for me to follow. Everything seemed different somehow.

Once inside, all my beautiful and lovely nurses came rushing over to say hello. For the next few minutes, there were hugs and smiles all around. Six years, I've been coming to this clinic. We've become friends. Suddenly, I realized that the outward appearance might have changed, but the love, it never left.

My conversation with my doctor left me speechless. I knew that my cancer has returned. I expected to hear all of that. I've even made a mental preparation of what needed to be done. I was preparing myself these past few days for this consultation and she just blew me away.

No chemotherapy? No radiation? Or anything vaguely familiar to me? We're doing hormone treatment, twice daily in pill form? Starting right now? Today?

Talk about shock treatment. I sat there with total amazement written on my face and I could see by her expression, it wasn't what she expected from me at all. I think I shocked her the same way she shocked me.

Shock enveloped me as my mind tried to grasp hold of the unfamiliar territory I was entering. I knew nothing of this treatment and secretly hoped for the same old security blanket of an infusion. This? This was madness. This was the unknown.

The ride home was slow as Friday traffic ensued, the air humid from the constant threat of rain, but I never knew it.  I was all alone inside my head trying to comprehend how  a little pill resembling an aspirin was going to subdue this cancer.

Arriving home, I took my first dosage, had my supper and went to bed. That was the first time in a week that I actually slept fitfully.

Have a blessed day everyone. 

That Unpleasant Topic

                                                        Everyday is a brand new day, everyday is a journey.




What I possess, or what I crave,
Brings no content, great God, to me,
If what I would, or what I have,
Be not possest, and blest, in Thee;
What I enjoy, O make it mine,
In making me that have it, Thine.
J. QUARLES.

I stared unbelieving at my Facebook page, reading the message I was tagged in with multiple of my co-workers. Such and such died Sunday night of prostate cancer. I knew he was sick, even suspected he took a bad turn, but it never entered my head that he would die.

"Please observe a moment of silence for . . . . . . "

The voice over the loudspeaker rang out at work. Everything stopped and total silence ensued. I could feel a lump in my throat. I've known this man for all of my working life here and now he was gone. Another cancer victim, prostate this time. That's four deaths this year alone, 3 for cancer and 1 for ALS.

As a Christian, I believe in life with Jesus after we die. Yet it's sad to see someone suffer and die, where we cannot be with them any longer.

We are born. We live and then we die. Soon everyone forgets what we looked like and who we were, only mentioning us on birthdays and death anniversaries. After a couple of years even on these days we will be forgotten. 

Dealing with death is something we have to contend with, especially if we have a chronic illness. For some of us, dying is something we haven't thought about at all, claiming we are too young. The rest of us, it becomes a spiritual path leading us to Jesus in Heaven. 

Whatever journey you are on, this isn't something one can avoid. It is always lurking in the background behind the sign of unpleasant things to talk about. We are told to live each day as if it was our last. I believe it to be true. We should be ready both spiritually and mentally to face come what may. It doesn't make us morbid or as if we were quitting life. It makes us smart. Death isn't something we should be afraid of talking about, so let's start a long awaited conversation. 

Have a blessed day everyone. 

Another....

                                                                         Everyday is a brand new day,
                                                                          everyday is a journey.                               



A child's kiss
Set on thy sighing lips, shall make thee glad;
A poor man served by thee, shall make thee rich;
A sick man helped by thee, shall make thee strong;
Thou shalt be served thyself by every sense
Of service which thou renderest.
E. B. BROWNING.

Another friend being tested. Another cancer free diagnosis. Praise the Lord. 

The relief was tremendous. I could almost feel that relief from the other end of the line. She was extremely worried and afraid of having cancer. I think she forgot with whom she was speaking. Her excitement reverberated all around us as tears and relief flowed. 

I don't think I could have handled that. Anything, but cancer. Anything.

There was a moment, just a wee moment, where I wanted to say to her, What about me? Her relief somehow hurt me. I cannot explain it, but the feeling was there, unexpected. It wasn't envy of her diagnosis. I am truly happy for her, but having cancer no longer represents death. One can live quite a normal lifestyle with cancer. Yet, it remains the most feared illness.

There are many people out there who haven't made it, but passed on. They were young and taken too early. They left small children and loving families behind. They haven't even lived their life out yet. I am not making light of their struggles or their death.

 There are also people out there on the front lines, battling cancer every single day. They are making it through the grace of God who strengthens them. I'm sure they wish they didn't have to worry about treatment anymore. 

Don't misunderstand me here, but that feeling appeared out of nowhere and probably shocked me more than you right now. No one wants to be sick, but when it happens, we need to make peace with it. It is not the end of the world, just a new beginning. A new way of living. 

Have a blessed day everyone. 

Rearview Mirror

                                                               Everyday is a brand new day, everyday is a journey.




Faith that withstood the shocks of toil and time,
Hope that defied despair,
Patience that conquered care,
And loyalty whose courage was sublime;

Teaching us how to seek the highest goal,
To earn the true success;
To live to love, to bless,
And make death proud to take a royal soul.

--Louisa M. Alcott.

I've been cleaning out my files and came across the following story that I wrote for Thought Collection Notebook. I'm quite proud of this fictional story. It was my first attempt as an author writing out of the blue and based on just my imagination. I did use my own vehicle as the description of the car in the story. There is a little bit of excitement when one sees their own name in print. I hope you will enjoy. 

Rearview Mirror
 Thursday, February 04, 2016 - Lottie Krol

Looking into my rearview mirror, I saw the red 1998 Ford Durango instantly as the vibrancy of the color contrasted against the silver greys lined up in the parking lot. There he was again, so close to me and yet keeping his distance as to not to be conspicuous.

How did I get myself into this? Was I too forward with him? Did I do something to make him think I wanted his attention? Why can't he accept the no as a no?

It all began so innocently, him just talking to me in his spare time at work. It wasn't sexual in nature at all. Just two co-workers chatting away to make the workday go by faster. Then he wanted to go out for lunch once in a while. Why not? People do it all the time. It's just work. It doesn't mean anything, right?

Somewhere along the way people began whispering about us as if we were a couple. Every time we left for lunch, looks were thrown our way and snickering began as our backs were turned heading out the door. I kept telling myself that I couldn't change people's opinions. Let them think what they wanted, I knew it was innocent. I couldn't have been more wrong.

I don't know when he became more demanding of my time and jealous if any other man spoke to me or laughed with me. If I didn't go out to lunch with him, he would storm off in a rage, not even bothering to mind other people around us.

The whispers grew louder and so did the glances our way. Gossip ran rampage throughout the company of our supposed affair. There was nothing going on, let them think whatever they wanted. I knew better. I can't help what their minds conjure up. No matter how much I tried to defend our friendship, people thought otherwise.

Every time he stormed off mad, he would come back apologizing that he knew we were only friends, but he had a bad day and asked for my forgiveness. I believed him the first couple of times it happened, but his outbursts kept getting worse, louder, and more frequent. It didn't matter to him whether we had an audience or not. His emotions took over exploding into angry outbursts providing entertainment to our fellow co-workers.

At that point, I've had enough. I could talk to whomever I wanted to and when I wanted to and I definitely didn't need someone thinking that they owned me. Especially since this person was only a fellow co-worker.

I confronted him face to face, telling him we could not have lunch any longer, nor did I want him hanging around all the time. He became very angry, angrier than I've ever seen him, accusing me of having a relationship with another man at work. I was stunned at his behavior. Why was he acting this way? We were just friends! 

Where did he get off acting like a jealous boyfriend?

Did my acceptance of his offer of lunch everyday cloud his romantic judgment? Did he think I was his woman? Apparently, his lunch as well as his friendship, came with a price, a price I wasn't willing to pay anymore.

That was more than a year ago. I can now see that my desire not to hurt him only fueled his belief that I could be his for the taking. The more I protested for him to stop, the more he cried that he wanted only my friendship, promising he would stop being so clingy. It never lasted long before his jealousies erupted over and over again.

I spent these past months avoiding him at all costs. His pitiful excuses to come over to my desk for business reasons are so cliché in their absurdity. I could so easily have him fired for sexual harassment, yet, I still feel sorry for him and his obvious need to be loved by a woman half his age. A man in his fifties going through a midlife crisis.

Perhaps, I still feel guilty for accepting his attentiveness in gestures of a lunch or a coffee? Should I not have accepted the flowers for my birthday? Or just because? I have learned not to do that again. Work is work and any relationships formed there are professional in nature from now on.

As to him, I just pretend he doesn't exist even as I can see him peeking in the distance, always there and always watching me. As long as he doesn't threaten my life nor my family’s, I can pretend he never happened. Will he ever stop? Will I ever not see him in my rearview mirror?

Go ahead and watch me, because I'm watching you, too. One misstep in the wrong direction and he'll be looking in his rearview mirror. 

A Story Of Two Women

  

                                                               Everyday is a brand new day, everyday is a journey.



Quench thou the fires of hate and strife,
    The wasting fever of the heart;
  From perils guard our feeble life,
    And to our souls Thy peace impart.
J. H. NEWMAN, Tr. from Latin.

This is a story of two women. The woman I used to be and the woman I have become. There was a time where I felt offended if someone remembered the woman I used to be. I didn't want to accept who I was back then and when I was reminded of it, I couldn't believe it to be true. I was never like that became a commonplace defensive statement. The truth was that I was that person at one time. 

We never really see ourselves, do we? It's hard for us to imagine that we weren't as good as we thought we were. I was a sinner, plain and simple. I wasn't nice back then. I wish I didn't do or say a lot of things back then. I can't take any of it back, but I can change what I say or do moving forward. 

I think that all of us have felt that way at one point or another. We have a dual personality, our twin, that used to reside inside of us. For some of us, they're still there and sometimes they come out when we least expect it. Usually it involves a passionate encounter. We may become angry or feel intimately safe to bring out that person hidden within us. 

I think the question becomes, how do you want to live your life? If you are tired of living as that other woman, you will have a natural desire to change. Our attitude affects others, not just us. The next time that demon wishes to emerge, think about the cause and effect it will have on you and your loved ones. If they do come out by accident, forgive yourself and move on. We all make mistakes.

Have a blessed day everyone. 

Ode To Mother

                                                              Everyday is a brand new day, everyday is a journey,



My Father! what am I, that all
Thy mercies sweet like sunlight fall
So constant o'er my way?
That Thy great love should shelter me,
And guide my steps so tenderly
Through every changing day?
ANON.

 Ode To Mother

by: Lottie Krol

Sitting in my mother's living room, watching Polish satellite cable, I couldn't help but admire her. Here she was in her early seventies looking anything but that age. Her hair always immaculately done up by weekly visits to the hairdressers. Her wardrobe consisted of dress slacks and silky print blouses, mother never wore jeans in her life.

She sat perched on the edge of her couch, talking about everything and everyone she has encountered in the last few days. She kept chattering away not even noticing my deep concentration upon her person. I couldn't help, but admire her after all she has encountered in her life and yet, one couldn't see all that strife upon her face. She looked beautiful, her age not evident upon her face nor the struggles she endured. 

My mother not only looked beautiful on the outside, but also on the inside. I don't believe I have ever met anyone who didn't like her or had anything bad to say of her person. She lived by the creed of never burning your bridges and always acting with dignity. It didn't matter how she really felt about others, she never shown it, always behaving in a courteous way.  

I'm in awe of her and all that she has accomplished, this small and elderly woman that has shown more bravery than I'll ever be capable of in my lifetime.Yes, bravery.

How many women of 30 years of age would travel across the ocean with their husband and three children to a country where she does not speak the language? Very few, indeed. Yet, my mother did just that. She traveled here to a country where her mother-in-law and a distant cousin she never met were the only people in her life.

Where would we all be if our ancestors never ventured out boldly into the world so their families can have a better life? They endured hardships so we could prosper. My mother is one of those pioneers who paved the way for all of us. No wonder I am in awe of her bravery.  Could I do the same? Could I be that brave?

I doubt that very much. There is a story she tells often of us first setting upon the new country. We didn't port in New York as did many others before us, but in Canada. As we waited for the Greyhound Bus to arrive to take us to Chicago, my mother wandered off to a tiny cafe within the area to purchase sandwiches for all of us. As she struggled to communicate with sign language to the woman behind the counter, she realized the enormity of her endeavor. 

"How in the world will I be able to live here?" For the first time since making this bold decision, she became afraid. No close friends nor family. Not even an apartment to live in, nor a job and definitely no knowledge of the English language. The enormity of the situation both frightened and overwhelmed her.  Yet, she overcame it. 

 

Mother took the jobs that no one else wanted, cleaning the Willis Tower at night and wealthy people's homes during the mornings. As she learned the language at a nearby Community College, she progressed into finding a job in a factory. She moved up, little by little, finally retiring at the age of seventy in the healthcare profession as a Data Entry Clerk. 

So I'm sitting here in her tiny living room of her one bedroom apartment, really seeing her for all she has been and continues to be. Our mothers can frustrate us with their high expectations that somehow we never quite feel we can fill, yet deep inside, I know they only want us to be better by taking the path that has been paved new. 

"Lottie, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, mother. I am listening to you."

Have a blessed day everyone. 

Simply Feet

                                                                         Everyday is a brand new day,
                                                                         everyday is a journey.


Side by side
In the low sunshine by the turban stone
They knelt; each made his brother's woe his own,
Forgetting, in the agony and stress
Of pitying love, his claim of selfishness;
Peace, for his friend besought, his own became;
His prayers were answered in another's name;
And when at last they rose up to embrace,
Each saw God's pardon in his brother's face.

--John G. Whittier.

Lord knows, I could write a whole book on this subject. My feet have caused me multitude of pain. There have been numerous ointments that I have used, massages and soaks. Let's not forget how many pain relievers I've taken orally. I know all about hurting feet.

Even though my feet felt good while I did any of the above, it didn't have a long lasting effect. I guess, in a way, I was searching for a cure all to the leg pain. Of course, that's not possible. 

I do soak my feet quite a bit and have tried way too many of foot soaks that claim results. I have not seen any of these results to date. I do love four things I place in my soak that I feel do relieve some discomfort. 

First one is Epsom salts. They are really inexpensive and come in several scents like lavender. Epsom salts work great on tired and achy muscles. Good for swelling, too.

Second one is Apple cider vinegar. This is a favorite of mine. It's good for the same as the one above, but for some reason, I actually feel the difference.

Third one I do is use the flower petals from any flowers I have in the house. I only do this when I receive flowers and want them to last or at least, have another purpose. If anything, I feel like my feet smell nice. 

Fourth one is baking soda. Baking soda has multiple uses and one of them makes a great foot soak. Feel free to try any of these at your leisure. I think a foot soak in itself, is relaxing and comforting to our aching feet. 

Have a blessed day everyone. 

The Miss Marple In Me

                                                            Everyday is a brand new day, everyday is a journey.



When spring unlocks the flowers,
 to paint the laughing soil;
When summer's balmy showers
 refresh the mower's toil;
When winter binds in frosty chains
 the fallow and the flood,
In God the earth rejoiceth still,
 and owns its maker good.

--Reginald Heber.

Coming to this Country as a small child, I grew up unlike other children, not knowing how to behave as an American. We truly were Greenhorns, not letting go of our Polish culture. The older we became, the more we changed aligned more with our fellow Americans.

My love affair with Literature began in High School in the Freshman year with a Lit. teacher that I adored. Every single morning, she would write on the blackboard a famous line or verse such as " The early bird gets the worm" or something similar. I loved to see what the new verse would be and as a Greenhorn, it opened up a whole new world to me.

During those four years, we kept journals, dutifully read our book lists, explored poetry and my favorite . . . .reviewed book reports. The very first books I've ever read were the Sherlock Holmes Mysteries and my love of murder mysteries took root.

I believe that it is not only the solving of the mystery that I enjoy, but also the entire era. They way people dressed, the morals that were presented and valued such as family and virtue. The Norman Rockwell version of life or at least that's how it appeared.

Yet, my favorite scenes were the small villages that these murders occurred in. The cottages were very old fashioned and the gardens supreme with the aromas of roses over spilling into lush landscapes of various color and structure. Beautiful vines scattered up and down the sides of the brick cottages. Cobblestones lined the streets and everyone rode a bicycle with a basket in front.

The images of Norman Rockwell come alive with those perfect images of the perfect life. Who wouldn't be drawn to such a life? I know I definitely am.

I've always imagined myself as Miss Marple, living in a quaint little village, taking residence in a lovely cottage surrounded by every flower known to men. That English Country life is shown as a peaceful life where manners and etiquette were everything. The entire village showed up to Church on Sunday or a Funeral of a friend or any other village function. Everyone knew everyone else, right along with their personal business.

That's exactly how I see myself living during the last years here on this Earth. I want to live in a small town where I can sit on the front step watching the life around me while a skein of yarn rests at my feet, my fingers working nimbly. I could host tea time parties for fellow women or perhaps a bible study. Of course,  there has to be a crocheting ministry.

I could write stories using as characters all my neighbors and fellow townspeople. I've always felt there was  more life in a small town than a big city.  In the city, people really don't get to know their neighbors opting instead for a quick hello and have a nice day.

But a small town is full of gossip! You can count on it!

I haven't always felt this way. There was a time where only the city appealed to me. I wanted to live in an area where everything I needed was within six blocks in any direction. I loved the hustle and bustle of being able to access anything I needed or wanted even at 3 a.m. in the morning. Only in the city could one find 24 hour service of any kind. I expected the streets to be cleared of snow and salted during winter and any power outages to be restored within the hour.

That was then, nowadays, all I want is peace and quiet living as Miss Marple did in her quaint little village. Sitting in her rose garden with a ball of yarn in her lap observing the coming and going of ordinary and simple people. I want to be simple and ordinary. I want to be Miss Marple.

Have a Blessed day everyone.

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