Excess

I purchased mini blinds for all of the windows in my house. I felt that this was the easiest way to go since I needed eleven of them. They come as a standard of 64" long. I fitted each one to the window and threw the excess slats in a pile. When I was done, I looked at the pile of slats. There must have been over a hundred slats lying there. It looked like such a waste. Not many windows are 64" long, so who decided that should be the measurement? I feel like I am being wasteful throwing away brand new materials but there is no other use for them. There should be a slat buy back program.

Hand Kisser

My grandmother died when I was ten years old. Certain things I clearly remember about her. She was a small woman but she had muscles. She said they were from working hard. When I was a toddler she used to rub my back and say "rusty, rusty, rusty" or something that sounded like that. I never knew what that meant. She also used to hold my hand and kiss the back of it. I never knew why she did that until I had grandchildren of my own. I have become a hand kisser. I hold my grandson's hand and kiss the back of it. Last night he came over after dinner and I kissed his hands. They smelled like broiled steak. He had just eaten out at a local steak restaurant and had a skirt steak. His hands smelled delicious. I wanted to dip them in ketchup and kiss them some more.

Official

Last night was my husband's retirement dinner. It was at his favorite Italian restaurant. Fifteen of the most special people in his life were there. After dinner, back at my house, we Skyped with my son and granddaughter. Everyone walked by the screen and talked to her for a minute. My sister took a few screen shots so as far as we are concerned, they were virtually here. My parents were able to see her smile and talk and jump up and down. Even though she was 300 miles away, it was a quality visit. It is now official. His dinner marked the end of one era and the beginning of the next.

Man Plans

"In his heart a man plans his course but the Lord determines his step". (Proverbs 16:9) For weeks I have planned my husband's retirement dinner. I redid everyone's schedules to make sure that my both sons would be there. It was not an easy task. Last night my older son called me to say that due to work responsibilities, he would not be coming. He felt worse about it than I did and I felt as bad as I could. All of my plans were for nothing. The dinner would still be missing an important person. My parents have not seen their great granddaughter for months and in my mind seeing her was more important than the retirement. I am a spiritual person and never question fate. There is a reason for everything even if I do not understand it at the moment. Maybe I am not meant to understand. Later in the evening, my son called so I could Skype with my granddaughter. He knew that was what I needed. Hopefully this evening we can do the same with my parents. The party will go on, just not as I wished it would.

There Is No Normal

People use the expression, "Normally". Years ago, there was a normal. Not any more. The world has changed and our comfort zones have gone with that. Years ago, normally, moms stayed at home. Years ago, normally, you respected authority figures. Years ago, normally, a family unit was close. Years ago, normally, you chose your doctor by whom you liked and not by who accepted your insurance. Years ago, normally, we cared about each other. When you take away normalcy, you bring in uncertainty. You never really know where you stand, because what is good one day is unacceptable the next. Normalcy was a gift that we no longer have the pleasure of receiving.

The Mouthpiece

I grew up as a shy child. I was never the kind to raise my hand in class. I liked to blend into the background. As I grew older, I was forced into becoming more vocal. I had a job where I was a liaison for a textile company and I had to make sure things ran well. That is where I honed my communication skills. When I got married, I became the spokesperson for the family. The mouthpiece. It has lasted for thirty five years. I have heard the phrase,  "Speak to my wife" a million times. Many times being the spokesperson means being the bad guy. When situations get tough, my husband hands them over to me and I mop up the mess. Yesterday there was a misunderstanding with the painter. As soon as my husband saw that it might be a problem, he called me at work. He handed the phone to the painter and said the usual "Speak to my wife" line. I informed the painter of what I understood the situation to be. He turned very meek and agreed with me. When I came home and saw the man, he looked scared of me. Sometimes I wish I could just be a trophy wife.

A Mitzvah

Doing a mitzvah means doing a selfless act that helps another person. The only thing you get out of it is a good feeling, which is better than any other reward. Yesterday my sister did a mitzvah. She had been in a doctor's office for a few hours and when she was finally done she went to her car to go home. She noticed an elderly man at her car window. She asked him if anything was wrong. He told her that he could not find his car. He walked around the lot twice, in 90 degree heat, with a medical boot on his foot but did not see his car. He said that he just lost his wife of 40 years and his mind was not clear. He said he did not know what to do. He asked her to drive him around the lot and said he would pay her. It seems that the building had four entrances with four identical lots, so if you did not know which entrance you came in, it could be confusing. She told him to get into her car but that she would not accept money. They drove up and down the aisles of the four lots for about 20 minutes when he finally spotted his car. He was so relieved. Again, he offered her money. She said she did not want money. The only thing she wanted was for him to wish her and her family good health. He said he would wish for her, what he wishes for himself.