So, the week before last, was when I finally organized my laundry room. And I use that word, “room”, lightly. It’s been the space, since I returned to my post-Florence home, where I stashed The Stuff I didn’t know where to place. That week, I spent an hour a day, five days in a row, and

In the midst of getting it done, I discovered a box my friend Jo and I packed, when Mom moved from ‘senior independent living’ to ‘assisted living’. That was almost eight years ago. When The Florence Flood happened, I thought all of my Mom boxes went away with it. This one made it.

And this box was full of memories and treasures! It gave me great pause. I won’t tell you about everything in the box right now. I do want to share the feast it offered me, one morning, this week.

Mom had this awesomely bright set of egg cups, with their own groovy wooden holder even! Pictured here are two of the cups. As I ate this breakfast of soft-boiled eggs, whole wheat English muffins, and a clementine, I paused to remember the many ‘breakies’ like this, I shared with Mom.

I gratefully celebrate how pausing is reconnecting me to who I am and from where I came. It’s helping me hang in there and roll with it.

I hope you’re hanging in there rolling with it, too. Feel free to let us know.

One thought on “Pausing

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