SOmetimes doing what needs to be done is hard.
Sometimes doing what's good for you is hard too.
Small steps are amazing. You can look back a million steps ago and see all of your progress and at how long it took you to get here.
My life right now seems to be full of small steps. Small steps at work, small steps to get out of school debt, small steps to creating a vision of a home in the near future, small steps in traveling, some leaps here and a few jumps over there. I often forget to just keep looking forward. Oh how I love to dramatize the moment eh? I look around and freeze and forget to keep moving. It seems I want everything right now---and reality smiles at me and says, keep doing that moving forward like everybody else!
So here's to trucking forward. I am surrounded by family and friends who are currently all in the same position as I am. We are all trying to get somewhere and sometimes the road seems blurry and it's hard to figure out the direction to head into. Thank goodness for get together's and chats because it helps to reinforce the energy to try and try again.
Last night shift tonight and then it's free time!
Dd
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
November 28th 2009
It's Saturday morning and it's raining---no surprise here at all.
I had breakfast with Mom and Dad and looked into the large aquarium tank that looms over the dining room table. In there swims a new family, one that my parents take diligent care to watch over. All the little fish have a name and my parents know who is the bully, the happy go lucky, the timid, and the loner. Each little fish has a color, a sex, and a preference for space in the tank. It's really quite something to see.
I'm so happy to see my dad looking so healthy and happy. Just last month he was laid up in a hospital bed. What a difference it makes to see ones family member in the hospital. That little glimpse of reality makes me a bit of a better nurse. I remember creeping upstairs after a night shift to go and see if my dad was ok. Visiting hours are not at 0700! The room was dark and he was sitting up in his chair. His hair was tussled and his eyes were closed. Hands crossed over his abdomen and mouth open. He was sleeping sitting up. I stood for a while and watched him. I wanted to remember how human, how fragile, and how vulnerable we all are. His unshaven face made him look old, tired, and like another man I didn't know. I thought to myself, how many of my patients look like this everyday? I don't see them that way at all. I woke my father up and he lit up to see me. I couldn't help myself so I shaved him, wet his hair and combed it, straightened out his bed, and when all seemed right, I was able to leave. He looked like himself again but tired and that was ok.
Momo's here---gotta go---no time for proof reading---Dd
I had breakfast with Mom and Dad and looked into the large aquarium tank that looms over the dining room table. In there swims a new family, one that my parents take diligent care to watch over. All the little fish have a name and my parents know who is the bully, the happy go lucky, the timid, and the loner. Each little fish has a color, a sex, and a preference for space in the tank. It's really quite something to see.
I'm so happy to see my dad looking so healthy and happy. Just last month he was laid up in a hospital bed. What a difference it makes to see ones family member in the hospital. That little glimpse of reality makes me a bit of a better nurse. I remember creeping upstairs after a night shift to go and see if my dad was ok. Visiting hours are not at 0700! The room was dark and he was sitting up in his chair. His hair was tussled and his eyes were closed. Hands crossed over his abdomen and mouth open. He was sleeping sitting up. I stood for a while and watched him. I wanted to remember how human, how fragile, and how vulnerable we all are. His unshaven face made him look old, tired, and like another man I didn't know. I thought to myself, how many of my patients look like this everyday? I don't see them that way at all. I woke my father up and he lit up to see me. I couldn't help myself so I shaved him, wet his hair and combed it, straightened out his bed, and when all seemed right, I was able to leave. He looked like himself again but tired and that was ok.
Momo's here---gotta go---no time for proof reading---Dd
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
November 25th 2009
It's been a while eh?
Where has all the writing gone?
The urge to write has shown up again and I must say it's a marvelous thing. Yesterday I packed my little bag and walked five minutes up the road and found a cozy spot in the Cornerstone Cafe, ordered a hot coffee and a muffin, looked around like a pleased cat, and began writing whatever came to mind. I was really happy.
Tonight I'm off to Uvic in a short while to take a continuing ed class on geriatrics---it's been a while since I've carried on with these classes. I'm listening to some great music. Chris Botti is a phenominal trumpet player. In the 'Italia' CD there are a few tunes that knock me off my feet. 'Deborah's Theme' reminds me of Omaha Beach. When I listen to this piece I am transported back to a sunny beach with a history as deep as the ocean. The piece is uplifting and powerful and it reminds me of the wind, the crashing waves, and the range of emotions I felt thinking about the young lives that departed long ago. 'It never entered my mind' makes me ache for something---it feels like Christmas and of something else I haven't quite found yet. And 'Nessum Dorma' I listen to full blast in order to vibrate along with the rise and fall of the song. I must discover his other albums because this man is gifted, smooth, and sooooooooooooooooo easy to listen to.
Well---it's raining enough for three provinces here and I must find parking---so I must go.
Dd
Where has all the writing gone?
The urge to write has shown up again and I must say it's a marvelous thing. Yesterday I packed my little bag and walked five minutes up the road and found a cozy spot in the Cornerstone Cafe, ordered a hot coffee and a muffin, looked around like a pleased cat, and began writing whatever came to mind. I was really happy.
Tonight I'm off to Uvic in a short while to take a continuing ed class on geriatrics---it's been a while since I've carried on with these classes. I'm listening to some great music. Chris Botti is a phenominal trumpet player. In the 'Italia' CD there are a few tunes that knock me off my feet. 'Deborah's Theme' reminds me of Omaha Beach. When I listen to this piece I am transported back to a sunny beach with a history as deep as the ocean. The piece is uplifting and powerful and it reminds me of the wind, the crashing waves, and the range of emotions I felt thinking about the young lives that departed long ago. 'It never entered my mind' makes me ache for something---it feels like Christmas and of something else I haven't quite found yet. And 'Nessum Dorma' I listen to full blast in order to vibrate along with the rise and fall of the song. I must discover his other albums because this man is gifted, smooth, and sooooooooooooooooo easy to listen to.
Well---it's raining enough for three provinces here and I must find parking---so I must go.
Dd
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