For the love of scents

It's a delicious slip of a morning. The gray kitten lies curled on the deck chair outside in the misty morning. A hot cup of ginseng tea offers itself to my left (a whiff of it takes me back to the barnyard -- decomposed manure? Yes, either that or cow's cud, but I've never kissed a cow to discover that aroma. Kicking around dry pies were common, though, particularly when bored or mad. Ah, a hot tea of crap.) A church meeting is being skipped. Pages of two books are awaiting to be turned (Red Tent; Teaching the Dead Bird to Sing), and two moist delectable apple pies are being baked. The oven hums for the love of scents. And, at 11:30, I will meet a laughing friend at a downtown ethnic restaurant.

Yet, stop.

Time won't stop. I must grasp this fully. Things could change.

Just two nights ago, my husband asked me what we would do at retirement. The thought devastated me. Retirement means a jump ahead in time. It means that those whom I cherish will most likely not be around. My dad. Mom. Some friends who are precariously fading even now. I'm afraid that I was unsupportive of his thought of release. I'm afraid that I had to go to bed early to release myself into sleep. Themes of the unlived life, the removal of loved ones, the aging, the focus on the trite (cleaning, medicine, aches, etc.) .... It was a completely negative reaction.

But mornings like this one give me hope. Apart from others and regrets, slips of still life occur. Birds still busy themselves, calling hopefully to each other. Cats still look up at you with these needful adorable eyes. Pies send out aromas for your soul. Memories of barnyards float into cul-de-sacs (or condo, or nursing home). A few friends will remain, and new ones will be made. Parents will still make their impact known.

Alright, acceptance of the inevitable is difficult. But, the morning beckons, and I can sense a source of joy to steady that which is fluid. Perhaps it dances along with the movement.

Time to read what others make of this spirit, life, and source.

Take care dear friends. You give me hope!
Fieldfleur