Posted: 12 Sep 2018 10:01 PM PDT
Today’s Reflection
I GAZE out the window at the oak tree my children and grandchildren used to climb.
Now that I am alone, the memories of this house comfort me.
I wish I could roll back the clock to an earlier time when laughter and music filled these rooms, but I can’t.
On days when I feel sad and lonely, I find comfort in the familiarity of home. My home.
The kitchen window overlooks the crape myrtle that blooms every spring.
The squeaky screen door announces a neighbor’s arrival.
The workshop smells of oil and wood shavings.
My family members think it is time for me to move, but I cannot imagine my life compressed into a single-room apartment.
I have tried to digest their concerns—
I need more help; I can no longer live safely on my own; I am alone; my home is too expensive to maintain.
I know they mean well, but the idea of moving brings anxiety and fear.
O Lord, I don’t know what to do.
How can I leave the place that brings so much joy to what time I have left?
Comfort me, God, and give me direction.
Now that I am alone, the memories of this house comfort me.
I wish I could roll back the clock to an earlier time when laughter and music filled these rooms, but I can’t.
On days when I feel sad and lonely, I find comfort in the familiarity of home. My home.
The kitchen window overlooks the crape myrtle that blooms every spring.
The squeaky screen door announces a neighbor’s arrival.
The workshop smells of oil and wood shavings.
My family members think it is time for me to move, but I cannot imagine my life compressed into a single-room apartment.
I have tried to digest their concerns—
I need more help; I can no longer live safely on my own; I am alone; my home is too expensive to maintain.
I know they mean well, but the idea of moving brings anxiety and fear.
O Lord, I don’t know what to do.
How can I leave the place that brings so much joy to what time I have left?
Comfort me, God, and give me direction.
–
Voices of Aging
Voices of Aging
Today’s Reflection
ReplyDeleteI GAZE out the window at the oak tree my children and grandchildren used to climb.
Now that I am alone, the memories of this house comfort me.
I wish I could roll back the clock to an earlier time when laughter and music filled these rooms, but I can’t.
On days when I feel sad and lonely, I find comfort in the familiarity of home. My home.
The kitchen window overlooks the crape myrtle that blooms every spring.
The squeaky screen door announces a neighbor’s arrival.
The workshop smells of oil and wood shavings.
My family members think it is time for me to move, but I cannot imagine my life compressed into a single-room apartment.
I have tried to digest their concerns—
I need more help; I can no longer live safely on my own; I am alone; my home is too expensive to maintain.
I know they mean well, but the idea of moving brings anxiety and fear.
O Lord, I don’t know what to do.
How can I leave the place that brings so much joy to what time I have left?
Comfort me, God, and give me direction.
–
Voices of Aging