Has been almost a year since I posted. I am probably talking to myself. Nothing unusual.
I am in the process of cleaning out my upstairs office. I have collected much stuff up there. One of the dusty boxes contains many, many photos. I spent last eve looking through them. Painful, very painful. I used to be happier. I was also fatter, thinner, fattest, thinnest, and fatter again. As I was viewing all those past images Honey Bunny looked over my shoulder and said, "cute." It was a picture of me at my fattest. What he saw was a smiling tan woman with her feet in the ocean. I saw a blob in pink hat. Must give us pause....
Since moving to our snowbound valley I have been hopeless. I have not been able to gin up any cheerful expectations of the future. Why?
Immaturity. The blob in the pink hat was younger. She looked at life through American, Protestant, baby boomer, rose colored glasses. The smiling older woman with her feet in the snow now is on the cusp of seeing life through different lenses. It makes all the difference.
Next time: Grow Me Up God. God bless us everyone, Bea.