Turning 50 isn't so bad.
Of course, I'm only one day into it, but so far, so good.
Especially when a friend gives you a CAKE.
Fifty isn't too great for my knees, though. All though, to be honest, this started in my 40's.
I helped Brenna in track and field today after school, and well,
let's say I'm not meant to try the long jump.
I think I need to stick to walking on the beach. That's a much better way to usher in the fifth decade of my life. Did I really say that??? The fifth decade? sheesh.
Better go back to the beach.
My two sisters and I are in the throws of cleaning out my mom's house for an estate sale. It's crazy emotional.
My eldest sister called from work and said my sister and I are saints for tackling this before she gets here.
I don't think you get to be a saint by using the words I had going through my head after finding yet another drawer filled with stuff. I think you have to do something a little different. Maybe if I light one of the seven hundred candles I found and said a prayer, I would have a chance. Who knows.
Does it count if you light a red and green candle?
I know it would be good to get a lot more of this out in writing...
all this going through a house,
wondering why something was put where it was,
not being able to ask.
Feeling like a wretch for taking apart your mom's home.
Feeling like a wretch for screaming at your mother in your head for owning more purses than are in any given Ross Department store.
Grieving for what never was, nor what ever will be.
It comes in small amounts. Then it gets whisked away by track and field, home life, a longing for artwork to be completed, joy in seeing my daughter home for Easter...
But I know it will come back.
It's sneaky that way.