If you ever had the chance to meet my dad, it is unlikely that you would have forgotten him. For those who knew him and loved him, don’t be sad that he is gone. Be happy that you knew him. What an amazing life. From plowing fields behind horses and delivering milk in wagons, the…
The author reflects on their journey of journaling and note-taking during PTSD treatment, rediscovering writings in a cherished purple notebook. They plan to compile these writings for personal revisitation, emphasizing self-discovery rather than seeking external validation. The content includes poetry and a personal mission statement centered on kindness and self-love.
#ProjectZen #Day23 #GratitudeProject Yesterday we received food from the Eastern Illinois Foodbank pop-up pantry in Champaign, Illinois. We are so thrilled! Produce, frozen chicken, snacks, canned goods, and smiles. With me not being able to work right now and as of yet not eligible for aid of any kind, getting a little help and love…
#ProjectZen #Day22 #GratitudeProject 60 F. degree days amaze me in the middle of Winter. It’s February 22, 2017 in Champaign, Illinois and I have my front door open, and the screen door window is cracked open. The windows in my kitchen are open. Stale indoor air baked by our furnace is filtering out and fresh…
#ProjectZen #Day16 #GratitudeProject Here we are in mid-February in the northern hemisphere, Winter blowing her final fury in many parts of the country. This year, where I live, it’s been very mild with little snow at all. It’s been more wet and messy here with lots of rain, but you won’t hear me complaining about…
#ProjectZen #Day12 #GratitudeProject In 2014 I was diagnosed with COPD after two lengthy hospitalizations, at the age of 48. My life, as I knew it, came to a grinding halt (or so I thought at the time). I’m not ready to share the daily living with COPD yet, but I’ll get there. Eventually I will…
There are precious moments when you’re given a chance to see into another person’s life and gain an understanding of their heart. If that door opens, walk through it. You don’t have “to do” anything other than to “be there”. You don’t have “to say” anything. Just care. Sometimes you don’t have the answers, but…
Today I am going to take you on one last ride. You so love to “go bye-bye” in the truck with the windows down, air rushing past your face, as you sit right next to me, and “daddy” drives. I gaze at you sleeping near me in the corner on the kitchen floor. I am…
My mom passed away in October 2007, the day of her funeral left us unexpectedly blessed.