Let the light in....vs National Grid

There is no avoiding sitting myself down this morning to write this post....National Grid made me do it!  I have been mulling over a post that speaks to my passion for light in January.  As I backed out of my driveway, I spied two National Grid trucks at my corner (a diagonal stretch from my bedroom window).  For the fourth time in my 28 years of living at this location, I politely approached the workman to request that no streetlight be installed at "my" corner.  In the past, I have been relieved to learn that there was no intention to do so.  This particular worker decided I needed a tease, so he put on a serious attitude and informed me that my longest running neighbors had requested two!!  WHAT!  Then he chuckled as he revealed the truth...once again, no light planned for these posts.  Whew!  

The interesting thing is...I LOVE light....just not the artificial kind that disturbs your sleep on a long winters night.  My husband and I hauled the Christmas tree out to the back porch last night (light strings in place) to mark the end of the holiday season and the beginning of our wait for Spring.  We plugged it into the outdoor socket, informing my Dad that's why we installed one there :) Each evening, the tree will glow beyond the sliding glass door...and I will not mind the early darkness  descending once again.  By the time the tree begins to shed all its needles, it will be time to chop it for outdoor firelight.

The lighting we add to our home during the late winter months helps to brighten the gap between the glow of Christmas and the firepitside chats we enjoy in later seasons.    Ever notice how one tiny tea lite can make you as happy as a roaring fire.  It's all in your perspective.

Light also seems to lend a new energy to old bones...be they 60 something or 90 something!  The sunlights rare appearance this past Tuesday inspired a field trip for my homebound folks and I.  Even  two hours out did not zap Dads energy...the sun provided the extra lift he needed to negotiate the final steps into our house...I swear!  

I do believe in letting "the light shine for all to see"... grateful when I can ignite my own interior glow on a good day, or reach for the kind I conjure with candles and cords.  It keeps me productive and hopeful, as I await the  promise of warmth and natural light-the generous gift of encroaching spring. 

Grateful thought number one for today...light is everywhere I choose to find it or create it.  Grateful thought number two...my outside space, though changed in unfathomable ways these past years, will remain subject to natural light, and National Grid will once again go peacefully into the night...somewhere else. 

To My Dad..."standing knee deep in a river of abundance"

There's a favorite author of mine, whom I have been turning to for years, as I seek to live my life peacefully, while managing the occasional chaos and angst.  Sarah Ban Breathnach authored a book called 'Simple Abundance" years ago, and I have treasured my copy since finding it in (you might guess) a local Thrift Shop.  Today's quote fits this entry well, as I intend it as a tribute to my Dad, about to turn 90 years young in two days.  
Dad knows all about abundance, and appreciates every bit that comes his way.  A new member of our household since July of last year, Dad never ceases to inspire me with his appreciation of all things beautiful, curious and mundane.  Dad is never bored, as his senses serve up a constant stream of things to speculate over, comment on or just simply observe.  Most notably, as I write, there is a hum of the local contractor's excavating equipment, heard most days from 7am to 5pm.  I have dubbed my Dad supervisor of the construction across the street, as he is so interested in whatever the "guys" are doing.  They may be inside and out of sight, but Dad is sure about what they are up to...windows, insulation, constructing a  fireplace?  Naptime requirements include my turning his bulky recliner just so, in order for him to see outside and over there!

Construction is only the latest of Dad's occupations, abundantly available in our neighborhood  since he moved here. Though Dad's knees may buckle and the shortest trips to the bathroom are challenging at times, there is always the strength to stop and notice the photos on the fridge or on the family calendar.  Occasionally, there is a new plant or a forgotten gift left under the tree or on a counter...all cause for observation.  Even the hand towels in the bathroom are not overlooked, and we frequently converse over where I found the lovely ones...can you guess? 

The more time I share a space with my Dad, the more I realize that I have learned to observe, listen to and speak of  beauty from him.  Music...whether Broadway tunes, French folk songs, operatic arias or classical hymns has pervaded our lives and our lifestyles....underscoring all our celebrations as well.  Dad was a member of the adult church choir when I too participated in the youth choir.  I remember the pride I felt in singing Gregorian Chant at Catholic Mass, knowing I was "just like him".  ...Opera on the basement radio, Gilbert and Sullivan recordings in the living room, harmonizing to "When Your Hair Has Turned to Silver" in the car with Mom...abundance of  musical opportunities...abundance of joy!

Abundant thanks to my Dad, Andre Pierre....thanks for the love of so much and so many in the simplest of places-sunsets out the car window, music everywhere, savoring "slivers" of luscious and pretty desserts, people- wherever we find them being just who they are.... 

Thanks for continuing to "stand knee deep in a river of abundance" though your legs are weakened  and your aging heart aches at times.  Thanks for not letting the depth and occasional current of life's river disturb you, but for persevering and exulting in it's abundance!

  

Perhaps change is what has prompted me to write this blog/future book.  That I have pondered doing so for over ten years confirms that I am long overdue in this endeavor.  Wish me luck...good luck says I...to write...to reflect...to perchance become the author I aspire to be!

So it begins!

write write write!