Enjoying the season

Everywhere I look, flowers in bloom

It's the middle of April already, and everywhere the flowers are bursting forth with fragrance and beauty. It's enough to make anybody smile, and it doesn't take much for me to enjoy the season. Even with all the rain we've had lately, it only makes me feel happy to be in the Pacific Northwest. A couple more weeks and I'll be able to finish planting my vegetable garden. What's out there right now is able to withstand the cold rain, anyway I hope so.

We've had almost two inches of rain in the past three days, which is considerable for a place that often gets precipitation at this time of year, but only a drizzle or mist, not a downpour. However, when I set out to walk yesterday morning, it was raining. Not a sprinkle or two, but real rain. I wore my rain pants, my newest rain jacket, a rain hat, and my waterproof shoes, so I was pretty dry, considering, but it's still not my favorite weather. I went to the movies with my friend Judy yesterday, and when I walked out of the theater, the clouds were gone and brilliant sunshine greeted me.

Lately I've been wondering how much of my disposition is innate, and how much of it is a choice I make. I am usually happy when I wake up in the morning, with only a few aches and pains that dissipate as I move around, and I look forward to the day. It's Sunday and this post is the only obligation on my schedule for the day. Of course, I'll get up and do my morning exercises, dress and make my way to the coffee shop, and I look forward to that, but that's it. The whole rest of the day stretches out in front of me without a plan. That's not usual for me, but I'll enjoy being able to make it up as I go along.

My sister and I were discussing our family the other day, and it came as a bit of a shock to realize that she and I are the only ones left who remember our grandparents. My maternal grandmother lived with us for awhile, as well as our paternal grandmother long ago. We were both quite young; Norma Jean was a preteen and I was lost in the drama of being a teenager when Mommy (that's what we called our dad's mom) lived with us. She had suffered a stroke and was unable to live alone and somehow she stayed with us until she was either moved to an institution or died, I don't remember which. She is the only relative that I ever remember having gone into a nursing home, if indeed she did.

I was involved with my own life and didn't spend any time that I remember talking with Mommy when she lived with us, but Norma Jean did. My sister was much more empathetic, while I fear I wasn't interested in spending time with old people. There's a bit of regret involved in my memories of those years, because I see how self-centered I was, unwilling to consider that she might have been an interesting person. Mommy told Norma Jean that she wasn't afraid to die, and that she had lived a good long life and was content with that. To a young girl with her whole life ahead of her, that was unfathomable.

Daddy, Mommy, Norma Jean, PJ, and me

As I sit here thinking about the past, I realize I have only a few pictures of Mommy. Our mother must have been behind the camera in this picture from long ago. This was before Mommy had moved in with us, but she visited often during these years. I don't know why she insisted that we call her by that name, but it's the only one I have ever associated with her. Her actual first name is the same one I share with her: Dorothy. She is the reason I was saddled with such an old-fashioned name, but I have always been called by my middle name, Jan. It wasn't until I grew much older that I decided to incorporate the first initial into my name, and now as I settle into old age, I'm simply becoming "Jan" again, and I don't mind. I still get an internal smile when someone calls me "Dee-Jan" instead of the much less distinctive "Jan," but these conceits are falling away as the years pass.

Now that I am old myself, I understand somewhat the idea of having lived a good long life and being unafraid of dying. However, it's not something I look forward to. I am so enjoying being in relatively good health and being able to plow through the days and months with a look forward towards the future. At some point that will change, but for the moment it's springtime in the Pacific Northwest. I've got friends and family, and a partner who is much more of a sweetheart than I deserve. Although I'm no longer that self-centered teenager, she still lives inside me. Fortunately for me, life has given me enough fodder to grow into an interesting person myself.

A person with a blog, too. Something that I have enjoyed for more than a decade now, and it certainly helps me discipline my errant and active mind into a single direction once a week. Writing all this down does help me to consider who I am today and who I once was.

By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest. – Confucius

And with that, I conclude this foray into my Sunday deliberations. It is now time for me to take a look around and start moving into the day's activities. Tea is gone, partner still sleeps next to me, and the sun is actually going to shine for at least a portion of my day. Rain is still in the forecast, but it's much less and I might actually be able to get into my garden today.

Until we meet again next week, I wish you, my dear reader, the best of weeks ahead, with lots of love and blue skies in your forecast. Be well until then.