"Your mother believed in playing" my grandmother said on my visit home last weekend. It brought tears to my eyes-- the faint memory of my mother's smile, the time she made snow angels with my sister and me in the backyard, a couple months before her death. I wonder if she somehow sensed how short her life would be? She died at the age I am now, 28.
I want to be remembered this way also. I'm taking a few days off work to try to get a grip on what really matters. I'm trying to slow down. I know I can do more by doing less. Everything is meaningless without focus and intention behind it and lately so much of what I do feels meaningless. So the next few days of meditation and intention are dedicated to you, Mom. Teach me how to play again.
I want to be remembered this way also. I'm taking a few days off work to try to get a grip on what really matters. I'm trying to slow down. I know I can do more by doing less. Everything is meaningless without focus and intention behind it and lately so much of what I do feels meaningless. So the next few days of meditation and intention are dedicated to you, Mom. Teach me how to play again.
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