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Oh my gosh! Who’s that old lady?

Looking back at me?

I’m not sure what’s going on

But there’s no way that lady’s me!

Remove yourself oh wicked one

Your sight has set me grieving

Could I have truly grown this old?

Seeing is NOT believing!

 

me thinking2015 was quite the year for me.  It was a whirlwind of activity which included getting married.  Libby Rowe.  That’s my name.  Don’t wear it out…cake cut

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have been plagued this year with a lot of rehashing and rethinking and overthinking and all that sort of thing.  It’s probably my approaching birthday.  It will be a milestone to say the least.  I’ll be 60.  I have discovered that when you reach a certain age you start to worry about everything you’ve done or not done or could have done but didn’t do.  You wonder how much time you have left and how much quality you can squeeze out of it.  Can I do some of those things I left undone?  I don’t want to waste a second because – well, who knows how many I have left?  I found myself in a serious funk about a week ago but, thankfully I don’t stay in the funk long when I let myself go there.eating pie

corvette museum shotI have always been a pretty positive person.  I’ve never understood people that whine and complain and only see the dark side of every situation.  It’s like they are incapable of seeing the silver lining.   I read a article recently about how negative thinking actually changes the way your brain works.  If you verbalize negativity you will eventually live only negativity.  There is a lot more scientific mumbo-jumbo to it but, that’s it in a nut shell.  Anyway, I enjoy life – always have.  I am especially enjoying it right now.  No matter what else I have or don’t have – I have love.  A true, rich, storybook kind of love.  I married an amazing man.  He loves me just the way I am.  He tells me how perfect I am.  He appreciates me and makes me feel valuable.  We both believe in the value of touch.  We hold hands and kiss – even in public.  I wonder sometimes what people must think since we are not the typical age for all that mushy stuff but, I don’t really care.  It’s wonderful and I wouldn’t trade this feeling for 2016anything.

I know 2016 will hold blessings for me.  I look forward to every day and every new adventure.  This is a journey and I am not yet too weary of a traveler to enjoy it!

As a child, I was convinced that the Santa in all the Coke ads was the real deal.  He looked like my ideal of Santa; big smile, red suit, white beard, and a big round belly.  Just perfect in my mind.  My mom worked in a grocery store and she would get the Coke calendars every year and I loved peaking ahead to December to see what Santa would Coca-Cola_Christmas6be doing.  It felt like I had an inside track on Christmas to come.     Every year we’d carefully put up a real tree with lights and tinsel and special ornaments.  There would be electric candles in the windows and tons of lights on the house.  My dad was in an unspoken competition with the neighbors.  I thought that was great because every year it would get bigger and better!  We’d recieve so many Christmas cards my sister and I would use them to make tree designs on the wall and we’d line several door facings too.

I remember sneaking into the livingroom in the wee hours of Christmas morning while everyone else was still sleeping to see what Santa had brought me.  The tree would be lit and everything had a mystical magical glow.  And somehow, Santa always knew what I wanted!  I’d silently squeal with delight!  I’d glance around at all the other treasures and then tip-toe back to bed to wait for everyone else to wake but, I’d be too excited to actually sleep.  Oh.  There was something extra delicious about the tangerines in my stocking. It’s laughable now, how the ones in the fruit bowl just weren’t that good.

That was so many years ago, but when I close my eyes it’s just like yesterday.  If only it could be that simple today.  What a wonderful childhood when the world was only as big as my neighhood, the only bad guys were in cartoons and Santa was real…

 

I sit by myself

In the light of my tree

It’s quiet and cozy

For my thoughts and me

     I’m lost in the past

     In a time long ago

     When moments were precious

     But I didn’t know

Trips to see Santa

Cookies to bake

Presents to wrap

Pictures to take

     Life was so busy

     Kids were so loud

     Stay on the good list

     Make Mommy proud

I quieted the laughter

And put them to bed

I shooed away fairies

That danced in their heads

     I hung up the ornaments

     Made just for me

     But carefully hung them

     In the back of the tree

My tree must be perfect

No wires must show

And nothing imperfect

I just didn’t know

     That an evening would come

     When I’d be alone

      To remember small faces

      That are now grown

Reposted from my blog December 2008.

naval hospital signI am finding it increasingly difficult to deal with the whole come and go lifestyle associated with the military.  The OB clinic here at the Naval Hospital has many corpsmen who I get to know and truly care for.  It breaks my heart to see them move on.  Of course, they have to.  It’s how they grow and develop and learn new skills.  It’s just hard on the heart.  I’m so proud of these girls.  They are perfect examples of what our young military is made of.  They are smart, respectful, dedicated and patriotic.  I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to watching them come and go but, it’s reassuring to know this is the kind of young people who are watching our backs.

I have also watched the deployment and transfer of many of our wonderful military doctors, nurses, and midwives.  These are dedicated officers who truly love their profession and make a difference by being here.  It’s always sad to see them go.  And then, there are those officers who retire after their 20+ years of giving to our country.  The whole process is amazing and although I have nothing to do with it — I find myself swelling up with pride watching how it works.  I am so thankful to witness it.

 

presentsSo, last year — almost to the day — I put up a post with almost the same title.  I can’t help it.  Something seems lost to me.

Where’s the joy and the happiness and the bright-colored lights and the presents and the hot chocolate and the wassail and the homemade candy and the warm fuzzy feeling I used to feel this time of year?  Where’s that joyous enthusiasm?  How can I get that back?  Can I?  Is it gone for good like my mom and dad and dear friends that have passed?  Has it died also?

Maybe it’s me.  Maybe I am not the same.  Maybe I need to make more of an effort.  Maybe I need to put on a bigger smile, shout Merry Christmas to strangers, go watch a Christmas concert, sing Jingle Bells at the top of my lungs.  I don’t know.  But what I do know is, it has left a hole in me that I am aching to fill.    But, how can I do that?

felt antlers

 

Might wearing some felt antlers help?

all us blondsThis life of a blond I would suspect isn’t really any different from that of most people out there.  But, it seems most blame anything ridiculous you do on the fact that you are.  Yes, I was born a blond.  I’m now leaning toward the gray area but, still blond at heart.  And truly, I use it as an excuse when I do something obviously silly.  “Excuse me” I exclaim, “you know I’m blond”!

Now, my husband has been telling me for years how smart I am.  He says it sincerely.  And, I know he IS sincere, however — I also know he was also born a blond.  HA!  And if I am truthful, there are days when I perfectly fit the stereotype.  There was an incident a while back that I can only now think of without a hot flash of embarrassment…

I had a call from an OB patient with some concerns that I felt needed immediate attention.  I promised to call right back and went prancing off to speak with the male midwife who was on call for the day. I went to his office door and knocked. He mumbled something I thought to be come in.     NOT.     I snatched open the door and there he was with his scrub pants in hand positioned to hide the important stuff. I was so mortified I started rambling on and on about how I thought he said come in — I could have sworn you said come in — wow, I thought you said come in.  Holy crap!  Finally his gaze of astonishment made me realize I was still standing there with the door open and I needed to get out! I closed the door and chastised myself for my stupidity.

Worst part — I still had to ask that question when he got his pants on…

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