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Looking Back Last Month and Beyond

I revisited this blog after many months of abandonment. Somebody had to check it. It is still here. I had been occupied with work, family, and volunteer nursing activities. In my little free time, I admit, I tried and did escape to the tropics. I am thankful for that that because back home in beautiful Colorado, the red rocks had been covered with snow. It has been a cold, white winter. There is beauty in it, somehow. Cold, simple, and pure. ---- My stevia plant died after I have not watered it enough for many days too often. I have the backup, no-care-needed sweetener in a herb-like container. It does the job to sweeten my drink. === I had been drinking more hot drinks lately. More, I mean twice a day. This cappuccino from home is as good as some famous coffee shops. Paul and I invested in a small frother and cappuccino for home. --- I have been cooking more at home, as both my husband's and my blood pressure were higher than we want. We are lessening our sodium intake. Here I add

Mother

You are the one, my mentor, my mother, my mom.

You are my guide, my anchor, and the one I will forever admire.

Under a rainstorm or darkness, you went on with your routine as I have grown mature in mind.

You were a
R-EGULAR
O-RGANIZED
U-NEXCITING
T-YPICAL, but
I-MPORTANT
N-ORMAL
E-VERYDAY kind of mother, so I thought.

How silly I was as a young lady tall enough to be an adult, yet very short in mind to wish you were just like other moms wearing business clothes, high heels, and makeup?

Now I still have many more years to be half as good as you, mimicking your routine as a great nurse many look up to.

Comments

  1. This is beautiful Carin. What a wonderful homage. Funny, it pretty much takes until we become adults to fully recognize the impact our parents had. On us, other people, and just how extraordinary "ordinary" often is :)
    Thanks for linking up.

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  2. Really lovely. There's not a day goes buy that I don't have a question for Mother. But, she's no longer here to ask. I asked a plenty when she was, but not enough. This made me sentimental, not sad, just wistful.

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