agnestirrito

"Whatever you think you can do, or believe you can do, begin it, because action has magic, grace, and power in it." Goethe


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Friday’s Five

There may be more than five today…just a friendly warning for the counter types among us.

I’ve fallen off the regular blogging bandwagon, and that’s okay.
It’s all ok…that’s #1. Also known as “it is what it is”–” life goes on”–and other equally obnoxious sayings that really say nothing. I like them though. They’re fillers for what we can’t or won’t say, or for when there really is nothing else to say.

#2: I made my kids mac and cheese from a box and watched them eat it at my kitchen bar the other day. They’re adults now. There was something sweet in that moment. You might get it if you have kids. Or even if you don’t.

There was a baby monarch today. Tiny, tiny. It followed me all over the yard. Leaves have started falling. Another season.

I think that was # 3. Sometimes I combine the goodness.

Oh, a movie with a friend. That was wonderful. Just knowing you have a friend who will go to any movie, any time, any day. That’s something.

Ok, one more. Wow. Maybe I am sticking with five tonight!
Thunder in the distance. That’s my #5.
There’s something comforting about a rainy night, and knowing tomorrow is a day at home to catch up to the sound of rumblings and rhythms of raindrops. I’ll take it.

I’ll take every day we are left to get. We only get so many, after all.

Have a good weekend, a great week, and be good to yourself.


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Friday’s Five

Five different kind of blessings this week, dear reader. I’m thinking of my Sam and the many memories we shared. Our 26th anniversary was Wednesday. I don’t know how to count it now that he’s gone. I get the ” ’til death do us part” thing, but my heart says I’m still married.
I recall five sweet things about Sam:
How he’d grip two pecans in his palm and crack them for us to taste as we walked under the trees…
How he’d come checking to see that I was safe on my solo walks around the place…
How he’d hum and sing a bunch of different lines to different tunes all day…
How he’d remind me to remove the lint from the dryer screen—I still say, ” Honey, it’s cleaned.” I can almost hear his affirmations.
How his old high school football team beat the cross town rival tonight for the first time in 14 years. I listened to the game like he used to do– on the radio–can picture him smiling tonight.
Sweetest guy. Sweet memories.
I hope I’ll always remember.


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Sunday’s Song: God, Grief, Grammar, and Grace

It’s been an interesting week, dear readers. If you have experienced grief, you know it has a way of reminding you it’s always there; it never leaves you completely.
You deal with that reality. You accept it on some level. It’s the new normal people talk about. Some people talk about it without having experienced it, though. You really do hear everything.
It becomes tiring.
The fact is: grief reveals truth. There is a transparency about everything that is evident once you experience this loss. You see the liars, the pretenders, the ones who want to help but don’t know how. You see it all. It’s the weirdest thing.
There is still the fog element, where you are between worlds. Where you are sure part of you must exist now…in that other world place…because she is surely gone, the person you once were. She’s not here.
Then when you think you’ve dealt with quite a bit, you get a few more surprises. Really, just annoyances, but I’m going to discuss them.
I am a faithful person and a spiritual one. I do not care to defend my beliefs. They are mine. I know what I believe. I know where I’m going. But I will not stand by when someone posts on a social networking site that “this is serious, people”… and proceeds to tell us all that the deceased are no longer with us. Can’t see us. Can’t hear us. Can’t intercede for us. That anything differing from that view is conversing with demons. I’m sorry. That’s baloney. Or it is to me. And what I think matters, too.
I know very little about a lot of things but I know what my God provides for me to make it through this walk of grief. I’ve walked it several times in 51 years. This time has been the hardest for sure, and no I haven’t had visions or unexplained communication. But some people might! And that is their gift of grace to know. I have had gifts of grace and peace that I understand are from another place.
Then, a few days later I posted an article about grief that helped me. I mentioned that it was one of the better pieces I’ve read on the subject.
Instead of reading the article, someone immediately called me to task for my use of the word “better” instead of “best” … I know.
Both comments came from people I’ve known for a long time. Still, I do not like what they said. And the reality is I don’t have to. They have the freedom to speak and I have the same freedom to reply.
People are people, after all. A lot of us are walking toward a place where I can guarantee you it won’t matter whether we choose the preferred form of an adjective to use. I like to think my better angels are with me anyhow.
And as for those demons some folks are worried that some of us might be conversing with? No worries there either. Better angels to the rescue again.
As an aside: both of the people who wrote these things still have their spouses. That in itself explains quite a lot. And, truly, would either comment have bothered me a year ago? I don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe so.
Sometimes we truly do not know how to act until we’ve been instructed. My prayer is that they can leave this world without learning that lesson. I wouldn’t wish this learning experience on another living soul, regardless of their language use proficiency or their religion.
Good night. God bless.
Dear Lord, Give us all the grace we can handle. Amen.


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Friday’s Five

I didn’t post the past couple of Fridays, but not because there wasn’t anything good to say. On the contrary, I found myself mentally cataloging gift after gift.
I’ve spent some precious time on the beach since the last time I wrote, met some interesting people along the way–in my travels as well as in a new class I’m teaching at the local college, learned a new stitch with my wonderful knitting group, literally stopped to smell some August flowers, and today–I’m taking note of the pumpkin patch that decided to spring to life in the backyard from the jack-o- lantern Sam carved for us last October. Guess those discarded seeds took hold.
Glad for nature and good people and the memories we get to keep.
Whatever is good for you… I hope you are always able to find it.
Blessings and peace.


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Friday’s Five

A review of five of the week’s gifts:

One, quite surprising:
A person from my past crossed my path, found herself telling me all of the drama going on in her life, and then stopped mid sentence to tell me what a good listener I was.
I have to smile at that because even I know nothing could be further from the truth. I have to really work at paying attention. But, maybe God decided to show me it is possible.

My friend D and I are reading One Month to Live by Kerry and Chris Shook. We are off schedule because it’s designed to be read in one month, after all. But we are lenient with one another. I hope we always have a book we are reading together. I highly recommend it as a way of staying connected and honoring the gift of friendship.

Speaking of friendship, my pen pal for forty plus years and I have decided it’s getting time to meet in person. Can you imagine what that will be like? We are proof you can form a precious bond with someone you’ve never met. Our letters are a lifelong diary of sorts. It’s amazing to think we may really meet.

I sat on another friend’s porch this week and learned the process of mosaic work. The result was beautiful, but I was most struck by the fact that several of my friends are artistically gifted and each one of them shares that gift freely. There is a level of self assurance in that, and I like being around it.

Finally, porches and pets. A summer ritual has been spending at least part of each day outside, either noticing nature or feeling the porch tile under my bare feet. The trio of dogs shows up without fail, each one getting her moment of ball throwing, ear scratching, or belly rubbing. I just sit without rushing and realize the gift of that. A swallowtail usually flutters by. Today, a hummingbird made her return visit to the red geranium on the front steps. Peaceful moments. Gifts.
Find yours.
God bless…

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