Okay. I am going to make a prioritized list so I get done what I need to get done. Why can't I get that memories book finished? Memories too painful?

Time to get ready for the holidays. Wow! Looking forward to seeing John Ondrasik in concert soon and Rock of Ages in December. Bring it on!

Changing Seasons

The prevailing thread of "Are we there yet?" will probably never be answered, because while I'm alive we'll never be there.

As the seasons change and we get ready for another holiday season, I look forward even farther to Bunky retiring, and sooner than that, Mike and his family moving out of state. Life is constant change, and you have to go with the flow, or quit. Quitting doesn't sound like a viable option.

It seems like with each new season, I make resolutions of what I will get done, what I plan to accomplish, and sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn't. The thing of it is, as long as I'm happy and satisfied, it doesn't matter about what I accomplish.

I waste a lot of time, but as far as I'm concerned, no matter what you are doing, if you enjoy it it isn't a waste of time. I can't see any reason to use my time doing things I don't want to do as life is not unlimited. It ends. I will not be on my death bed saying, "Wow, sure wish I'd done those dishes." I hope when the time comes, I will be looking back at the fun I had with my family with no regrets.

Changes will be abundant this year: Michael and Tisha moving will be devastating for me but I know I can handle it and it will be best for them. Bunky retiring will be more difficult. That's something you can never be sure about until it happens. I'm even thinking about maybe getting a tiny part time job. But then, I have to think about that, because there is that death bed thing. . . .

Religion and Me

I was brought up by my Mother as a Baptist with a grandfather who visited on Sundays and preached fire and brimstone. I listened carefully; I asked a lot of questions. I had a little book called "10,000 Questions and Answers about the Bible". No matter what question I asked PaPa Floyd, he had an answer. But I had deeper questions. Unfortunately, my questions were considered disrespectful and I knew better than to ask them. You remember those days, don't you? Back when you really couldn't express yourself if it differed from your parents' opinions. I left home, and that little niggling question was still in the back of my mind: Is all of that really true. I read a lot, I listened a lot. I prayed and waited for answers. But, knowing how my mother felt, I just kept a lot of it to myself, and only once in a while let my doubts show. As I grew older, I kept my opinion more and more to myself, but became more and more sure that I didn't believe. I have thought and thought and read and read, and no, it doesn't make sense to me. The only person's opinion I ever really cared about was my mother's, so a year or so before she died, I told her that I just didn't believe. She wasn't happy, but she understood my feelings. And I'm sure somewhere in her mind she was thinking that I would learn better someday. It takes a lot of courage to stand up for an unpopular belief or non-belief. If you are born to believe and accept it, there is no further thought necessary. If you are born to believe and don't accept it, there is a lot of soul-searching and you have to give it a lot more thought. It wasn't an easy decision, but it is my decision and want it to be respected as much as I respect those who do believe. Live and let live.