I was working as a Unit Secretary in the ER March 2020. The isolation was intensified by the fear of harming my family.
But I saw beauty.
My daughter holding her first born daughter in her arms after years of infertility. I stood outside and they were in the garage, safe from me and the elements. My heart was full and breaking at the same time.
My older grandchildren swinging on the swing set we built for their new home, not able to hug them but sitting in my lawn chair wrapped in blankets. Appreciating every moment while my arms ached.
I hope to never lose sight of living in the moment.
I was drawn in by the line courting transcendence one hot date at a time. Beautiful. I used to live in a place where I could go out my front door every day and take my dog for a walk through the woods. Now I live on a road that requires me to drive to a place where we can walk in peace. Since I’m here to care for my elderly mother I can’t do that every day. So we go for walks when we can and we will be seeking amazement. Thanks.
I have often wondered how I can walk the same path or drive the same road daily, and suddenly discover something new, that has always been there. Someone told me, during COVID, that the moment I discover something is the moment I am supposed to discover it. That brick for you...
You're wise to focus on the road when driving but on a walk I've learned to slow down and look around for what's new. I often forget or succumb to distraction, but it's all about cultivating mental focus: Seek and ye shall find. When Casey stops to pee I am tempted to check my phone. The other thing to do is look. Here's a little gallery of discoveries and new friends from our walks. https://ronamaynard.com/a-visual-dog-walk/
Oh wow, your writing and your way of thinking are delightful. The idea of being married to amazement, and courting transcendence one hot date at a time... luscious & enticing. This is truly something to aspire to. Thank you. 💜
I love this. Even in the years before Covid, my daily walks in the city to my studio provided something to be amazed at. Every single day was different yet my route was the same. On the weekends, walking by the lake we also witnessed many weddings, or post wedding photo taking sessions, that brought such joy to all passing by. Fast forward to a move to an island where we swapped city life for majestic mountains and views of Puget Sound in the PNW. This was 18 months before Covid. Retirement in sight, we moved to be closer to our daughter’s family, specifically our only grandchild. The first death in the country from Covid was in Everett, WA, a city half an hour from us. Many other cases quickly emerged in assisted care facilities. It soon became evident that this was a clear and present danger. We all put on brave faces as we said goodbye to our family in mid March of 2020, not knowing when we could be together again. They wanted to protect us and we wanted to show we were going to be OK. I remember tears of gratitude when our little local grocery store established “Senior hour” and greeted us with freshly washed grocery carts and masked employees, all kindly offering their assistance. That it turned ugly some places was an experience we did not have, thankfully. Everyone seemed to be doing their best. The first physical interaction with our family took place months later with all of us masked with hugs through a clear shower curtain. Ten months later, the first vaccination brought more tears as we all stood in our line, distanced as instructed, with the feeling we were rounding a corner. My hope was that we would never take any of it for granted again. I will add here that I am part way through “Starter Dog” and experiencing second hand the amazement you describe living with Casey. The park incident you describe reminds me that things are not and will not ever be normal again in some ways. I’m not sure how I would have managed it. Take good care out there. (Apologies for the length of this but so many emotions!)
Hugging through a shower curtain! I look back on practices we zealously observed four years and wonder how it all came to seem normal. Covid was mostly a catastrophe on many levels but it did heighten my sense of appreciation.
What a perfect thing to read on a surprise snowy Sunday when we have to figure out how to change the clocks. Thank you for spreading a little extra wonder around.
I was working as a Unit Secretary in the ER March 2020. The isolation was intensified by the fear of harming my family.
But I saw beauty.
My daughter holding her first born daughter in her arms after years of infertility. I stood outside and they were in the garage, safe from me and the elements. My heart was full and breaking at the same time.
My older grandchildren swinging on the swing set we built for their new home, not able to hug them but sitting in my lawn chair wrapped in blankets. Appreciating every moment while my arms ached.
I hope to never lose sight of living in the moment.
What a hard, hard time that must have been. I wish you many years of glad immersion in the moment.
I was drawn in by the line courting transcendence one hot date at a time. Beautiful. I used to live in a place where I could go out my front door every day and take my dog for a walk through the woods. Now I live on a road that requires me to drive to a place where we can walk in peace. Since I’m here to care for my elderly mother I can’t do that every day. So we go for walks when we can and we will be seeking amazement. Thanks.
Seek and ye shall find. It’s true but not easy to keep your senses open to the world.
What evocative writing! I hope to approach your command. Please carry on.
Can’t imagine NOT carrying on. Thank you!
I have often wondered how I can walk the same path or drive the same road daily, and suddenly discover something new, that has always been there. Someone told me, during COVID, that the moment I discover something is the moment I am supposed to discover it. That brick for you...
You're wise to focus on the road when driving but on a walk I've learned to slow down and look around for what's new. I often forget or succumb to distraction, but it's all about cultivating mental focus: Seek and ye shall find. When Casey stops to pee I am tempted to check my phone. The other thing to do is look. Here's a little gallery of discoveries and new friends from our walks. https://ronamaynard.com/a-visual-dog-walk/
I sigh when I see someone walking their dog while scrolling on their phone. Poor dog. Always enjoy reading for an uplift.
I hang my head.
Lovely
Thanks, Amy.
If you open your eyes, there’s always something to be astonished about. Thanks for taking us with you today,Rona.
My pleasure, Monica. Here’s to exploring with open eyes
Oh wow, your writing and your way of thinking are delightful. The idea of being married to amazement, and courting transcendence one hot date at a time... luscious & enticing. This is truly something to aspire to. Thank you. 💜
Thank you, Phoebe. “Luscious and enticing” made a hreat start to my day.
I love the way you meander on this walk, as we wander thoughtfully to its conclusion.
Just the effect I was going for. Thanks.
Rona, love love love your writing. A gift!
What a heart-warming comment. Thanks, Debbie.
Love love your writing!
Thank you, Joan!
Bruno definitely was a Boston Terrier.
Little dog, big heart.
I loved a Boston Terrier, not mine.
I love this. Even in the years before Covid, my daily walks in the city to my studio provided something to be amazed at. Every single day was different yet my route was the same. On the weekends, walking by the lake we also witnessed many weddings, or post wedding photo taking sessions, that brought such joy to all passing by. Fast forward to a move to an island where we swapped city life for majestic mountains and views of Puget Sound in the PNW. This was 18 months before Covid. Retirement in sight, we moved to be closer to our daughter’s family, specifically our only grandchild. The first death in the country from Covid was in Everett, WA, a city half an hour from us. Many other cases quickly emerged in assisted care facilities. It soon became evident that this was a clear and present danger. We all put on brave faces as we said goodbye to our family in mid March of 2020, not knowing when we could be together again. They wanted to protect us and we wanted to show we were going to be OK. I remember tears of gratitude when our little local grocery store established “Senior hour” and greeted us with freshly washed grocery carts and masked employees, all kindly offering their assistance. That it turned ugly some places was an experience we did not have, thankfully. Everyone seemed to be doing their best. The first physical interaction with our family took place months later with all of us masked with hugs through a clear shower curtain. Ten months later, the first vaccination brought more tears as we all stood in our line, distanced as instructed, with the feeling we were rounding a corner. My hope was that we would never take any of it for granted again. I will add here that I am part way through “Starter Dog” and experiencing second hand the amazement you describe living with Casey. The park incident you describe reminds me that things are not and will not ever be normal again in some ways. I’m not sure how I would have managed it. Take good care out there. (Apologies for the length of this but so many emotions!)
Hugging through a shower curtain! I look back on practices we zealously observed four years and wonder how it all came to seem normal. Covid was mostly a catastrophe on many levels but it did heighten my sense of appreciation.
What a perfect thing to read on a surprise snowy Sunday when we have to figure out how to change the clocks. Thank you for spreading a little extra wonder around.
My pleasure, Catherine!
I'm not a writer, just love reading YOUR writing. Your post brought tears to my eyes. It's important to marry amazement, thank you.
Smiling…
Good wishes always welcome.