Today I sit leaning back in the recliner
Dreaming of strength
Remembering better times
And seeing myself through the eyes of others.
In my mind I see me young and slim,
Independent, intelligent, indestructible.
Was I living in my mind even then?
Was it ever true? Was I shy,
Needy and broken?
Did I accomplish, did I grow,
Or did I hide inside of myself?
Ah, well, that is the past,
This is now and now is the time
I am standing strong and tall
In my mind.
So many gray days, no blue peeping between the clouds, and then – a day of light, fluffy white clouds drifting through a blue sky and my desperate dreams of primroses and crocuses become a reality. I love planning the planting, eager to weed out the weeds and feel the soil move as I prepare it for bright and varied colors and kinds.
Though I can do so little to make this happen I will enjoy doing what I am able to do. I will enjoy teaching my grandchildren to do things for me, and it will still be my garden. I think of myself as author, producer and director. But what if it rains every weekend until June? It won’t. It can’t. After rain there is always sunshine and clouds for dreaming and trees adding leaves. It’s spring and my garden will grow and it will be watered and fed, and after the rains I will sit on the back porch and saturate my soul with sunshine and flowers.
After the rain.
It is so hard to look out at the gray rainy weather and dream. This is the day for dismal thoughts and dreary outlooks. At least it’s not a monsoon, and I’m not out in the wind. There’s the Pollyanna side. I don’t feel at all Pollyanna-ish about it. I’m ready to shop for plants and flowering shrubs full of life and color, but not in this weather. It takes the light out of the day and brings an early nightfall and I sleep when I should be lit up with the joy of writing.
Ah, I just had a gray memory that was also bright. My grandma’s eyes changed from gray to blue-gray to bright sparkling blue depending on emotional state or the color of her clothes. I had bought a gray coat that I loved. Grandma loved it, too, so I gave it to her, not because I am such a wonderful person, but because I loved Grandma more the coat. One other neat thing happened when we transferred ownership of the coat: I discovered I was as small as my little Grandma! Unfortunately, it didn’t last, but it was a sweet gray time.