Just like a Slattery

Every January, I tell myself that this year, I won’t forget to get myself a new calendar at the end of the year, and every December, I rush around and forget to get one.

Then in January, there are calendars on sale all over the place and I hate to pay full price for one, but not nearly as much as I hate having a calendar I don’t like, so I end up not only paying full price for one, but paying for shipping too.

Lord.

Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at this moment. – Eckhart Tolle

It’s considerably easier to believe that things are unfolding as they should when it’s all going you’re way, idnit?

It’s true, though. The handbone is connected to the wristbone, and things stack up on each other. So pay attention. It all matters.

Face your deficiencies and acknowledge them but do not let them master you. Let them teach you patience, sweetness, insight. – Helen Keller.

When I was little, I wanted to be Helen Keller because she was so amazing and inspirational.

Only, you know, I didn’t want to be blind and deaf.

Just in case there’s not a truth for Leap Day, I guess it’s a good thing I missed yesterday.

I missed yesterday because I made a flying trip to my hometown for Lisa’s funeral.

It was hard. I grew up with a number of elderly relatives and family friends and accustomed to going to funerals and know what to expect and how to behave myself, and I knew what was expected of me this time too, and I did it.

But this was different. I grew up with Lisa and her sisters, Elaine and Cami. We were children together. We were always together. We were contemporaries.

It was perhaps not sudden to everybody, but it was a shock to my system.

I had to go out to Elaine’s for something, and it never ceases to amaze that no matter how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other, we just start talking, and there it is, just like we were in different rooms for a few minutes.

People (and by people, I mean me) need to hold on to each other better.

Here is the truth I missed yesterday:

The years wrinkle our skin, but lack of enthusiasm wrinkles our soul. – Socrates

I like this one. I prefer it when people are either all the way in or all the way out. My sister-in-law, Marcy, says she’s going to have her tombstone read, “Go big or go home.” I might get mine to match hers.

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. – Maya Angelou

I have one of those ridiculous memories, so not only will I very likely remember what you said or did, I will also remember what we were both wearing and if food or beverages were involved. So bear that in mind before flying off the handle.

Lisa Currie Branch.

She was smart and funny and full of heart.

She was tall and gorgeous and had a beautiful smile.

She was an artist and a farmer and a nurse.

She was a mother and a grandmother and an aunt.

She was a daughter and a friend and a niece.

Lisa taught me how to drive a car and how to smoke, and how to know a watermelon is ripe by thumping it.

She paid me to babysit her kids on Saturday nights, and introduced me to the Stones and the Eagles and Creedence.

She drew wildly imaginative things on my paper-sack bookcovers and tried – Lord how she tried – to teach me to draw and dance.

Lisa was often troubled, but she was never bitter or mean, and she always made time for people.

She was always kind, and she was a hoot to be around.

There will never be another like her, and my heart just aches for her loss.

When I was little, I didn’t have friends, I had cousins, and Lisa was one of my best ones.

I’m just so sorry she’s gone.

If you’ve been following along, you might recall that back in March I had an incident in which I had to go to the emergency room for a suspected deep vein thrombosis.

It turned out to be arthritis, but nobody knew that but me, because The System was down and they’re not allowed to use telephones in hospitals anymore, I guess. So I griped and pulled my electrodes off and pulled my hospital bed around behind me until I got yelled at and somebody finally came and took an X-ray and sent me home.

I thought the whole thing was over because the claim was submitted and paid, but some sweet young thing called me today and told me that Humana had questions about the accident that led to my knee sprain in March.

Since I didn’t have an accident in March, I was puzzled and sat there like a knot on a log for a second while she peppered me with questions about my Doppler radar. Which I do not have, because I am an amateur weather guesser, using only my wet or blowing-around hair to determine what’s going on with the climate.

Then it hit me: they want to get out of paying the claim for that day I spent feeling like Liz Taylor, being wheeled around with my big pocketbook and my big hair.

I told her that I didn’t have an accident. I called my doctor because I had a bizarre ache and it was warm to the touch and they told me to stop whatever I was doing and go immediately to the ER, but don’t make any sudden moves, which instructions I followed.

This did not seem to be enough information, so I told her they were concerned I might have a DVT and that I had to have a Doppler ultrasound to determine if this was the case or not.

She asked if that was dangerous or not. I said, “The ultrasound? No. But a DVT could have killed me pretty fast.”

I could only laugh when she said, “Did you die?”

Cold. Coldcoldcoldcoldcold. Cold.

It’s going to be below freezing here tonight.

I need six dollars because the cleaning lady is coming tomorrow and I don’t want to go out and get it because it’s windy. But I have a firm belief that anybody who does things for your house or your person needs to be paid right away. I’d write a check but I don’t have any checks here.

I know, first world problems.

Here is today’s truth:

Know, oh beloved, that we were not created in jest or at random, but marvelously made and for some great end. – Al-Ghazali

Here I am, going to the ATM. Damn.

I have a box of them. 365 truths, that is.

For 2012, I aim to post one each day.

Today’s truth is:

An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break. – Ancient Chinese Belief

I also aim not to read them all at one time, tonight, but I can’t promise that (although they’ve been sitting here for two weeks now and I’ve managed not to rifle through the box, so maybe I can restrain myself).

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, aside from things like deciding to throw away pens that no longer work immediately, which has actually saved me hours each year.

But back to today’s truth. I can believe that. There are many people I know who I think I must have been meant to meet for some reason, and some of them I think I’ve gone around with before.

I just finished a novel called Breakfast with Buddha. You should read it.

I should go to bed, but there’s a Bridgette Jones movie on.