I made it through…

…another Mother’s Day. I planned, in advance, to spend the day quietly alone, pretty much. No church. I already knew I needed to spend time with my dad.

I don’t know many women who enjoy Mother’s Day. They feel guilty, like they fall far short. They’d also prefer their family show their appreciation in small ways on an everyday basis, not some big, blowout, bash, once a year.

I woke to a dream that my mother wasn’t dead and had returned to live here. The sense of darkness and dread as she walked through the house. I thanked God she was truly gone.

A number of people, family members and family friends, have commented on how different the house feels when they visit. They’ve made a point of stating that the house is lighter and more welcoming. A sense of joy is present that never has been before.

I spent an hour renaming photos in my meme folder that were still listed as numbers. Hopefully, it will be easier to find what I want now. I deleted a few photos, too. A little painless clean up felt good.

“Cleaning out my volcanos,” I also found an inconsequential item I thought I’d lost. It was almost in plain sight, under some papers. LOL!

I watched some television, did some reading, enjoyed a hamburger for lunch, my extra croissant, lasagna for dinner, and quiet time. I made Cowboy Coffee Cake, having to find it in my mother’s recipe book, glad it was there. I also popped into social media for less than fifteen minutes and left. I’m learning to take care of me. I felt at peace.