Mama would always remark that she sure was glad she was eighty because she could do what she wanted to do. People could say, “You know she is eighty.” That is what I have been doing lately –just what I want to do which is nothing. That is nothing if there is not something I am supposed to be doing. Lately I have been staying in bed until six o’clock. When I told my kids Bob said, “Mother, that is OK. You can stay in bed as long as you want to. You deserve it.” I have always been an early riser even when I worked until midnight at the hospital.
Lately I have been sitting out on the patio until the sun comes over the house spending time with nature. The birds are almost deafening which is a sound I love. There seems to be a breeze blowing every morning. What more can you ask for? I know there are a lot of people who are very unhappy when they are awakened early with a bird singing, especially a mocking bird. One summer’s night a mocking bird decided to spend the night wide awake in the tree near our bedroom window. I have laughed so much about this as Frank would fuss and fuss about that bird. He would get up, go out, throw a rock up in the tree, come back to bed only to have the bird sing louder. When I think about this I not only laugh but I can just see Frank with all his frustration. I am sure had he been one to use bad language he had cause to use them. I know most people quit feeding birds in the summer, I don’t. I know it is foolish but it brings a joy to me when I sit outside and do nothing.
Sunday, the 16th, was Father’s Day. It was a day to honor our fathers, stepfather, or granddads. It almost seems as if I never had a real dad, although I had just turned thirteen when my Daddy died. It is sad but I have always buried things in my life that have been traumatic. Daddy had been sick for a very long time with cancer. I saw him when he died which was very traumatic for a thirteen year old. Later, I had step fathers that I was very fond of. I have wondered what life would have been like if Daddy and my twin brother had lived. I know there are millions of children who never had any time with their Dads. Jane was only six when Daddy died. She had been his little nurse until starting to school just a few days before his death. She tells me so much about him the things I have buried deep within my mind.
I have no feeling about the tornado. I remember it well but no feeling. I had a psychologist tell me, when I was trying to deal with Frank’s death, that it was not good for a person to bury things. Lately when I have been doing nothing I have tried to dig up some things I have buried deep. I know I need to do something else but I am EIGHTY PLUS and I can do whatever I want to.
My little sister Jane had a birthday this past week. The birthday girls had our traditional breakfast. It seems like she might be catching up with me so it won’t be too many years that she can sit and do nothing or whatever she wants to. Was it not only yesterday I was carrying her around? That is memories that I did not bury deep. I was so proud of my little sister.
Remember, if you ever come by for a visit and I don’t answer the door, you can just leave a message in the dust on the dining table because it may be a time I am sitting out on the patio DOING NOTHING.