Even in Winter

enjoying the barrier beach

We escaped from winter in Virginia to winter in Rhode Island, though people who know me, know the trip is not about the weather. I consider this place home, and I need to check in every now and again. My son’s family decided to come along, and his daughter Annie LOVES the water.

When we made a quick stop to see the beach, she asked if she could put her feet in the water. 30 degrees!! But she did, and she came back with a huge smile on her face. As long as I am with them, I will never say no to a passion or interest.

Today it is raining/snowing, and we’ll do crafts at the dining room table.

I am enjoying each moment.

This is it.

A friend pulled me up short the other day.

“This is it,” she said. “Stop planning your death.”

I hadn’t realized how much I talk about dying: where, when, how. All the details.

In some ways, I believed that planning would make it seem less stressful. But what has happened is that I focus so much on the end, I forget I am here now. This poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer says it all:

This is it, I think, as I lie in bed, not wanting to leave the warmth.

This is it, my feet meet the cold wood.

This is it, I water the orchid.

This is it, I boil water, make tea.

I think, I’ll be a better person tomorrow.

This is it, me dreaming of fresh starts.

This is it, defuzzing the sweater.

This is it, paying bills, answering mail, frying eggs, washing pans.

No life but this one.

No fresh start but here.

This is it, the cat sits on my papers.

This is it, the phone doesn’t ring.

This is it, the floors need mopping,

the letter needs written, the class needs planned.

This is it, me wishing I could be more perfect.

This is it, this. This only. Only this.

This is it, this flutter in my chest

when the sun enters the room,

the natural leaning toward the light.

This is it, this silence.

This cold. This warmth.

This longing. This song on my lips.

Sharing My Walk

City Dock

My friend (and photographer) Donna suggested I post one of my photos from my foggy morning walk. I even worked at trying to crop it appropriately, to frame what I think is most important.

Fog dissipated as we walked, lifting to a beautiful sunny day. I thought of Ralph Waldo Emerson and this quote:

The older I get, the simpler life becomes and all I yearn for is wholesome food, an early night and walking in the countryside.


Today I am feeling so grateful and full of privilege to be able to retire, travel, eat well, and spend my days as I wish.