Click

This is Martha's place. In her sunroom, I see containers that house so many decorations for she was a festive person. I see artificial flowers and many other tools that one would use for entertaining. For 10 years, we met under an old oak tree at our shared fence line. We talked about all of the pleasantries that neighbors do. She traveled the world through her middle aged and senior years, and I loved to hear about her voyages. She gave me landscaping/gardening tips, and Feverfew flower buds for my yard. Every Easter and Christmas, she and her daughter would give me homemade chocolates in adorable seasonal molds. Martha constantly told me not to quite my children as they ran though the yard screaming and playing. "It's a symbol of life and vitality," she would say. She felt that the laughter of a child was one of the most beautiful sounds a person could hear.

This is Joe's garden. For 11 years, I have gorged myself on fried green tomatoes, and made special spicy pasta sauce courtesy of his peppers, for my husband from this garden. We met at our shared fence line, and he would do his best to teach a younger generation all he had learned about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. During the holidays I could often look forward to a bottle of Joe's homemade wine. It never disappointed. Joe was a tailor by trade. I watched him come and go from Mass many a time. Never a sharper suit or top coat existed. But, he was just one of those people that had the golden touch. Be it a pair of trousers, a garden, his hedges, or the Italian tiles in his kitchen. Everything he touched turned to gold.

Martha died a year ago last month. Joe passed at the end of this summer. I now look out of my kitchen window and think about the ever increasing amount of worldly possesions that are piling up in Martha's sun room. I think about how the garden Joe personally tended, has been turned over for the last time. And, it has me thinking of how I will be remembered by others some day. 

If someone where to take one snapshot of MY life, what would it be? What will their description of who I was encapsulate? I want to be thought of a person who was passionate in my conviction for connecting with others and making them feel......better than they did before we interacted. 

Life is so often boiled down to what you do for a living, and what things you have. I love what I do, and I am happy with my possessions. But those two things in no way drive my overall life conviction, or my above stated goal. 

No, I think the only way to accomplish my goal is to continue to develop an honest understanding of who I am as a person. I accept the good and bad about myself. I feel that being firmly rooted in who you are allows you to connect with others, yet not be swayed into actions and activities that are not best for you. How often times, we make friends with others and are unduly influenced to live and participate in activities that are not conducive to who we are. If I don't like to ski, then I am not going to be roped into constantly skiing with a friend because it is a passion of theirs. That's a petty insignificant example, but you can see how it could translate into larger more important arenas. Hopefully, I will remain true to myself and connect with people on areas of commonality. 

Secondly, I hope to make genuine connections with others. That is not to say that they are always deep connections. But, true, honest, real connections with people I interact with, and a motive of disseminating goodness; That's my current method of operation to reach my goal. 

Someday, if someone decides to take a snapshot of my life, I wonder what it will be. Tomorrow is not promised. I supposed I better keep working my plan....peace.