This time of year, in my hometown, it is so nice to walk outside and smell the cool crisp syrupy air. It always makes me hungry for pancakes because about one block from where I live, pure cane syrup is made. There is nothing like the sweet smell of sugarcane being cooked into sweet syrup.
Welcome To Steen's Syrup
Due to comment #7 in my last entry, it has been called to my attention by Professor Brainwhispers, that I made a horrendous error. It seems my entry evoked the possibility that I may have smelled the testicles of a moth in church.
I did not realize moths had testicles but it seems Professor (he doesn't carry this name for nothing) Brainwhisper knows and had the balls to correct me!
So I bow to his superior knowledge in these matters and will mind my spelling in future entries.
Mothballs - the smelly stuff used to preserve clothing.
Moth balls - the testicles of moths
Okay I think I got it!
I was in Mass tonight, and realized it's that time of year again, when due to the cold weather, the moth ball laden coats come out. I smelled moth balls all around me as I was kneeling and praying. Pew Wee!
How could I not love such a sweet and silly little boy?
I’ve taken a few days vacation and was blessed with having my little one from Thanksgiving night until Sunday night. What a joy and blessing he is! Even as you are teaching them they are teaching you valuable lessons as well.
I was showing him how to spell his name and when he was successful and finally did it all by himself he was so pleased.
Looking up at me, with such joy in his being, he asked, "Nammy, are you proud of me?"
And, of course, I was indeed very proud of him and let him know without a doubt at how proud I was.
This small question set off within me a few thoughts of my own about being proud. Aren’t we all still that little kid inside looking for the praise and pride of someone? Do we forget that we thrive on someone being proud of who and what we are? Sometimes we forget that others in our lives need this affirmation that indeed they are worthy of our praise no matter how small or large the feat that which has been accomplished.
I have been so guilty of not letting the people in my life, past and present, know that I am so proud of them and who they are. I realize it has been a real fault of mine in family and romantic relationships. Perhaps, my not being proud of myself, did not allow me to easily relay to others my pride in them. As I become more prideful of myself, I realize that I may never get the opportunity to tell everyone who I’ve been proud of, but in the present moment, which is all we truly have, I will be more mindful of doing just that!
What about you? Is there someone in your life that needs praise?
This reminds me of a joke I always loved which now has a totally new meaning to me:
One night, an old married couple was watching TV, as they did every night, when the wife looked at her husband and said,
"I’m so proud of you!"
The husband who was hard of hearing replied,
"I’m so tired of you too!"
Sometimes we don’t hear as well as we should and maybe we need to learn how to read lips!
My love,
The other day, for some unknown reason, I found myself in front of the greeting cards, and got this tremendous urge to buy you a card. It did not take me long to find the perfect one. It was as if God steered me straight to the one that belongs to you. The one that embodies everything I believe love is and should be. I know that is rather silly of me since I don’t know who "you" are. I do know you are out there and eventually I will give you this card that was meant for you and you alone.
I want and need you to know that I feel you right here beside me and I know that you feel me as well. We are not far from each other but as the card says, we have to wait for the perfect moment. God’s right moment. I know he is perfecting us for each other. Who knows? We may have met already but it wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t his time. I do know that I know you with my very soul and I cry when you are hurting. I feel you all around me.
It is rather strange, but every Sunday in mass, when I close my eyes, I feel you there next to me. As I look, I feel an impervious and strong connection between us. Sometimes I lay my hand to the right of me (because that is where you are) and I feel you pick my hand up and hold it tightly, as if to tell me to be patient that you won’t be long. I smile and lean slightly to my right to lay my head upon your shoulder, just for a second to let you know that I understand, and I am waiting patiently, because love is patient. Love waits.
As I look into our horizon, I want you to know that I love you and I am waiting to be with you forever. My love, with you, is where I belong and I will not completely know rest until the moment I lay eyes upon you, and you wrap me in your arms, and I lay my head upon your chest, where I’ve always belonged.
Love,
Sharlene
Jumping up and down! Oh Jimmy! I'm proud of you too!