My calendar hanging on the wall reminds me that today is Monday. For the past several weeks the days just seem to be a total blur. They have become all too similar. Yet they pass by so quickly.
I was talking to a friend in Canada last night. She travels regularly to her cottage from her home in the city. I haven’t traveled anywhere in over two months. Not even to one of the pueblos mágicos that are so close by. My plan for this winter had initially included exploring more of central Mexico. Maybe next winter.
I checked my email earlier today. I found yet another job offer from China. Aside from the fact that I’m retired, I have absolutely no desire to ever even visit China.
Memorial Day weekend is coming up in the USA. I wonder what I’ll be missing in Washington. From what I hear things are starting to open up again. One of my friends has plans to go to her daughter’s in Seattle for a family gathering.
Yet when I check the COVID-19 USA map daily, the numbers are still on the rise. Not that I truly value the accuracy of these statistics. This pandemic is so widespread that I don’t believe it is measurable anymore.
I will soon don one of my masks and head out for my morning walk. The sun is shining brightly and it’s another gorgeous day here in paradise.
Have a great Monday!
As I sit here with a sappy Hallmark Christmas movie on in the background, my thoughts wander back to a conversation I had with my friend Florence when I was in Leavenworth this summer. Maybe it’s a combination of the holidays and the family Christmas in the Hallmark movie. But sentimentality is on my mind.
Florence was about to move out of her home in Leavenworth, a home she had lived in for 35 years. She lamented the fact that her children wanted nothing although she had offered them so many things that she and her husband could not take with them to their new home in Wenatchee. I could so identify with that. My experience was similar when my marriage ended. It’s obvious that the next generation is not in the least interested in the treasures we have accumulated. That sense of sentimentality is definitely missing.
I remarked about how in my past I had been extremely sentimental and how I no longer have those feelings about “things.” While I do have fond memories of my china and silver, I also have no need to host formal dinners anymore. The Moorcroft and other antiques belong to another life that ended when my marriage ended. In actuality, the hardest items to part with were the handmade birthday and Valentine’s cards my children had lovingly given me over the years.
But I do recall many a time when I used my mother’s or my grandmother’s china. I recall polishing the silver tea service my aunt and uncle had given us for a wedding gift. And so much more.
Florence and I agreed that our children will never know these feelings. And we wonder if someday our children may regret that they didn’t keep some of these things…..