On this last day of Pain Awareness Month, I wanted to end with some final thoughts. Pain may not be our choice, but how we deal with the pain in our life and how we respond to our pain is our choice. Attitude matters.
I am not my pain. I choose not to let it define me.
The reality of fibromyalgia is that you just don’t know when the symptoms will subside.
Pain is exhausting. It can take over your thoughts and be all-consuming. Those with a chronic illness know this all too well, coping with the often debilitating pain, while trying to carry on with their lives.
There’s a coffee shop in my little town called “Conversations Coffee” that is a friendly little place to get something to drink and catch up with friends. In this modern age of electronic communications, I sometimes think the art of conversation is dying. So on this first day of the new year, I think we should all resolve to…
Openly and frequently, with friends and family,
Near and far.
Grab a cup of coffee with a friend,
Just to catch up.
Call a family member you haven’t talked to in awhile.
“Conversation is food for the soul.” ~ Proverbs
Conversation fuels the brain and feeds the soul.
It keeps us connected and grounded.
It helps us learn and grow.
So say hello. Reminisce.
Share a cry. Tell a joke.
Exchange ideas. Give feedback.
And now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to make a phone call….and enjoy the conversation.
While I know my great-grandmother’s garden is long-gone, I can only hope some of the golden poppies, purple daisies, or fuchsias still remain.
Do fragrances ever evoke memories for you? Our sense of smell is in close proximity to our memories in the brain. For me, certain floral perfume smells remind me of the beautiful and fragrant flowers growing in my Great-Grandmother’s garden when I was a kid. I am a “California girl living in Texas,” having moved to Texas over 20 years ago, and oh, how I miss my home state. If I could live anywhere, I would probably move back to California near the coast.
My mother grew up in Pacific Grove. My grandmother taught at the elementary school for years. My great-grandmother had a little house there with a big garden. I think that is where my love of gardening and growing flowers and looking at things bloom and thrive comes from. It seemed like my great-grandmother could grow anything IN anything. I remember succulents growing in old shoes and frying pans! She grew succulents way before it became trendy and cool.
She was still tending her garden, even into her 90s, when she passed in 1974. And in the winter of 1975, an article was written in the San Jose Mercury NewsCalifornia Today section called “Moods in Haiku” by Peter DiVenere. He took several wonderful pictures of my great-grandmother’s garden and her tending to it, and wrote the following haiku:
Gold long forgotten Beauty and riches remain California poppy
Flowers everywhere | In the garden a painting | California poppies
Wild upon the hills | As in days long gone today’s | Poppies embrace you
The garden path ends | She gathers blossoms with her smile | Autumn of the year
Thorny thistles thrives | Old post reflects all past glory | Purple beacon shines
The tale of Genji | The charm of his disposition | Lady Murasaki
By the garden fence | Purple clusters feel the breeze | Safe from the mower
Pink blossoms aglow | Anticipating stories of | Far flown places
Hanging from a branch | Fuchsias are doing nothing | On a summer day
Tiny little fuchsias | Dangling from tender branches | Just before the dawn
I would love to go back to Pacific Grove to see where my grandmother’s house was, to see if the old brick wall surrounding it still stands. And to go to my great-grandmother’s house to see if any of the flowers remain. While I know her garden is long-gone as the lot was sold to build another house on after she passed, I can only hope some of the golden poppies, purple daisies, or fuchsias that she tended to still remain.
In so many ways I am like my great grandmother. We were both only 5’4″ in a family of tall people. My mom now thinks her grandmother also suffered from fibromyalgia. It would be interesting to find some genetic link to this condition.
Oh, how I wish we had kept that property and still had my great grandmother’s beautiful garden…oh the memories that can be stirred up from a scent of a flower or of a perfume…
Do perfumes or smells bring back memories for you?