It's been a country song kind of week. Handy Smurf and I got into a knock down, drag out (figuratively speaking) my sister had a baby, my uncle had a heart attack, and my dog ran away. Oh and somewhere in the middle we are having financial specialist look into our mess, a pillow blew up in the washing machine, oh, and my daughter wore the shortest skirt in the world, to school!
It took two days of dancing to expend all my pent up frustration! A few pounding and screaming into my pillow scenarios. And one small "mom moment' cry over where my lil baby girl went.
***Insert big sigh here***
There are so many stories within stories here. I could write about how I forgave Handy because I don't want to waste energy being mad. I could write about the cute, pudgy baby.
I could write how scared I was about the heart attack. How it makes one realize how fleeting life really is. I could write about the panic I held in when I realized the dog was missing. How the finacial specialist got me thinking about money, and the lack there of, and how important, or unimportant it really is. About how fast they grow up. About how the exploding pillow was a metaphor for how I felt inside.
Instead I wanted to remind anyone who reads this (come on....where are all my followers!!!hint intended) to not loose the lesson.
We do not remember days, we remember moments-Ceasar Pavese
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