Uncertainty

Who knows what will tomorrow will bring? Next week? Next month? Next year? The unknown. The uncertainty. I am one of those people who dwell on tomorrow. I wonder what will happen. Obviously, there is not a lot I can do about it, I certainly cannot change my destiny, my fate. In my mind, if I think about it long enough, I can expect the worst yet hope for the best. I can play out different scenarios in my head and know what I would do in any situation. The problem is, this never works. Any scenario I have in my head is really never the same as how it actually is. The worst thing is never really ever the worst thing. I don't generally think of myself as being negative or always looking for the wrong; in fact, I am a very positive person and my cup, well, it is always half full. "That which does not kill me, makes me stronger." Even though I dwell on tomorrow and wonder what will happen and perhaps have sleepless nights, I know what will happen, will happen. The only thing I can change about tomorrow is how I choose to look at it. If something bad unexpected happens, I eat a couple of cookies and look for a solution. Not always easy, in fact, hardly ever an easy solution is found. But, I have to keep looking for that golden lining to come through. The search is probably the solution in and of itself. The search is what keeps me focused and keeps my head in the game. If something good unexpected happens...well, I eat a couple of cookies and thank my Heavenly Father. Sometimes I may let myself dwell on what could have happened, but this takes only a few moments and then I look forward; to dwell on tomorrow for yet another day.

Memories

I have been a bit...melancholy, if you will, lately. Not depressed, not really sad, just a lot on my mind I guess. My daughter informed me a couple of days ago that she will be 18 next year. Indeed she will, next December, still over a year away, but nonetheless my sweet, baby girl will be 18 next year. This makes my sweet, baby boy (no wonder they wont grow up!) 21 next year! But, alas, I remain young! I don't feel a day over 25 myself, until I look in the mirror and see that 40+-year-old woman looking back at me or until I go to stand up after sitting all day and my back hurts just a little or I find (or one of my lovely family members points out) a gray hair.

So, I have had a couple of memories of my childhood lately. I find this interesting on many levels, but mainly because I don't have a lot of childhood memories. Repressed? Dementia? Who know, but I don't really have a lot that I remember about being young. But I would like to share those couple of things that I have remembered in the last few weeks.

First, the smell of lilacs. My grandmother used to (probably still does, I don't know) have a lilac bush just outside of her house. It used to bloom in the spring and you could smell the lilac blossoms for miles. They were special to my grandmother because of the smell and because of the color of the flowers - her favorite, purple.

Secondly, I heard a song on the radio a few weeks ago, "Nobody does it better" and this reminded me of my aunt and uncle. Okay, pay attention here -- My aunt (my mother's half sister) and my uncle (my mother's half brother) are not related. They are roughly the same age, born just months apart. My uncle had been in a car accident (now that I look back, it was a rather bad accident and my aunt and I should have been a little bit more concerned over his well being, but we were not) and we dedicated that song to him. We thought it was funny and we laughed! It still brings a smile upon my face when I think about it.

Another memory, a rather odd one, is about toys that I used to have. Natalie and I were shopping and saw this shirt:



I remember playing with those little people! I don't remember what they were called - they are not Weebles. But we used to have like planes and cars and houses that they used to play in. I remember the dog and the mean kid in the hat!

Another thing, I was reading on one of my friend's Facebook that they used to have a dog named Snoopy! Oh my gosh, my uncle (the one named above) also had a dog named Snoopy. We watched Snoopy die at the hands, or tires as the case may be, of the garbage truck. I don't remember crying, but I remember my uncle, who probably was only 4 or 5 at the time, bawling his eyes out. I feel bad for him now.

There have been a few more memories, but I am boring myself! I guess it just takes a smell or a sound to remind you of something or someone. People go in and out of your life, I think it is the ones that you remember with a smile upon your face that have made the biggest impact. The ones that are in your heart as well as your mind.