First of all…I’m back. I was in Chicago taking care of a toddler whilst her mother (my cousin) was on a business trip.
Well. That. Was. Exhausting.
My friends warned me, but I thought, oh I can do this, I raised my own children didn’t I? Ahem. Within minutes of my cousin’s departure I was drawn back to the days of not being able to think a complete thought, to finish a cup of tea or read the newspaper. And: Not just a toddler, but a “missing her mother toddler.” Use your imagination.
I recall my father saying to me when he was in his 70’s and 80’s: “My skeleton hurts.” I let it slide by, not understanding, not caring to understand. That’s the arrogance and breeziness of youth.
Now I understand. My skeleton hurts. I guess I inherited it from him.
So, in addition to this being the year of living passionately, this is also the year of the bod. My bod.
One week into 2017 and I’ve chosen my theme for this year: Living with passion.
No time to waste. I feel it palpably: life is oh so short and oh so fragile. I want to hold everything close and dear. We always say, “Live in the moment.” But do we do it? Really do it?